"*^<<L_ 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 
 HORACE GREELEY, 
 
 EDITOR OF THE NEW YORK TRIBUNE. 
 
 By JAMES PARTON. 
 
 " If, on a full and final review, my life and practice shall be fcund unworthy my prin- 
 ciples, let due infamy be heaped on my memory : but let none be thereby led to distrust 
 the principles to which I proved recreant, nor yet the ability of some to adorn them by a 
 suitable life and conversation. To unerring time be all this committed." — Hokacb 
 Greeley in 1S46. 
 
 6. 
 
 ^K 
 
 BOSTON: 
 FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO., 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO TICKNOR AND FIELDS. 
 1869. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by 
 
 MASON BROTHERS, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 
 
 Sn the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Maasachoaetts. 
 
retard. 
 
 Justice, nlike to the author and to his subject, demandij 
 the explicit statement or a fact. 
 
 Horace Greeley is wholly innocent of this book. Until I 
 had determined to M^ite it, I had no acquaintance with him of 
 ;i personal nature, and no connection except that which exists 
 between every subscriber to the Tribune and its editor. 
 Since that time, I have had a few short interviews with him — 
 heard and overheard a few facts of his career from his own lips 
 — 'had two or three of my best stories spoiled by his telling 
 me that that part of them which redounded most to his credit 
 was untrue. He has had nothing whatever to do with the com- 
 position of the volume, nor has he seen a page of it in manu- 
 script or proof, nor does he know one word of its contents. 
 
 I undertook the task simply and solely because I liked the 
 man, because I gloried in his career, because I thought the 
 story of his life ought to be told. 
 
 The writings of an editor usually pass away with the occa 
 sions that caded them forth. They may have aroused, amused, 
 
\1 PREFACE. 
 
 many other t.iings, this might be replied : If the lives of pol 
 iticians like T^'ler, Pierce, and others, may be written in 
 their lifetime, with a view to subserve the interests of party, 
 why may not the life of Horace Greeley, in the hope of sub- 
 serving the interests of the country ? Besides, those who think 
 this work ought not to have been written are at liberty not to 
 read it. 
 
 There are those who will read it ; and, imperfect as it is, with 
 pleasure. They are those who have taken an interest in Hor- 
 ace Greelej'^'s career, and would like to know how he came to 
 oe the man he is. J. P. 
 
 New YoiiK, December, 1854 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE NEW EDITION. 
 
 The first edition of this work appeared in the year 1854, 
 and found much favor with a part of the public. During the 
 last ten year6 it has been out of print, and I did not suppose 
 there would ever be occasion to revive it. It appears, how- 
 ever, that it is still frequently called for, and I do not see any 
 good reason why those who desire copies should not have their 
 wish gratified. I have been repeatedly informed that the book, 
 with all its crudities and imperfections, has been of some ser- 
 vice to the young men of the country. I therefore willingly 
 consent to the publication of a new edition, which was sug- 
 gested by valued friends. To make the work somewhat less 
 incomplete, a few chapters have been added, in which the 
 more recent events of Mr. Greeley's life are related, chiefly 
 in his own words. After the lapse of so many years, it would 
 be impossible for me to continue the work in the spirit in 
 which it was conceived ; and as the editor of the Tribune is 
 generally compelled to relate and explain his own actions, it 
 is altogether best to use his own graphic and lively nar- 
 ratives. 
 
 I should add, perhaps, that this new edition was prepared 
 for the press, and in the printers' hands, before the publica 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HIS FATHER RUINED. — REilOVAL TO VERMONT. 
 
 I'AQE 
 
 New Hampshire before the era of manufactures — Causes of his father's failure— Rum 
 in the olden time— An execution in the house — Flight of the fiither — Horace and the 
 Rum Jug — Compromise with the creditors — Removal to another farm— Final ruin- 
 Removal to Vermont—The winter journey— Poverty of the family— Scene at their new 
 home — Cheerfulness in misfortune 52 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AT ■\VESTHAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 Description of the country— Clearing up Land — All the family assist a la Swiss- Family- 
 Robinson — Primitive costume of Horace — His early indifl'erence to dress — His manner 
 and attitude in school — A Peacemaker among the boys — Gets into a scrape, and out of 
 it — Assists his school-fellows In their studies — An evening scene at home — Horace 
 knows too much — Disconcerts his teachers by his questions — Leaves school — The 
 pine-knots still blaze on the hearth — Reads incessantly — Becomes a great draught- 
 player — Bee-hunting — Reads at the Mansion House — Taken for an Idiot — And for a 
 possible President — Reads Mrs. Hem.ans with rapture — A Wolf Story — A Pedestrian 
 Journey — Horace and the horseman — Yoking the Oxen — Scene with an old Soaker — 
 Rum in Westhaven- Horace's First Pledge — Narrow escape from drowning— His 
 religious doubts — Becomes a XJniversalist — Discovers the humbug of "Democracy" — 
 Impatient to begin his apprenticeship 67 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 The Village of East Poultncy— Horace applies for the Place — Scene in the Garden — 
 He makes an Impression— A difBculty arises and is overcome — He enters the office — 
 Rite of Initiation— Horace the Victor — His employer's recollections of him— The Pack 
 of Cards — Horace begins to paragraph — Joins the Debating Society— His manner of 
 Debating— Horace and the Dandy — His noble conduct to his father— His first glimpse 
 of Saratoga — His manners at the Table— Becomes the Town-Encyclopedia — The Doc- 
 tor's Story — Recollections of one of his fellow-apprentices — Horace's favorite Poets — 
 Politics of the time — The Anti-Mason Excitement — The Northern Spectator stops — 
 
 The Apprentice is Free 2S 
 
 ] 
 
 -a 
 
CONTENTS. XI 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HE WANDERS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Horace leaves Poultncy— His first Overcoat — Home to his Father's Log House- 
 Ranges the country for work— The Sore Leg Cured- Gets Employment, but little 
 Money— Astonishes the Draught-Players— Goes to Erie, Pa.— Interview with an 
 Editor- Becomes a Journeyman in the Office— Description of Erie— The Lake— 
 His Generosity to his Father— His new clothes— No more work at Erie— Starts for 
 New York 100 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. 
 
 The journey — A night on the tow-path— He reaches ttie city— Inventory of his property — 
 Looks for a boarding-house— Finds one — Expends half his capital upon clothes — 
 Searches for employment— Berated by David Hale as a runaway .apprentice- Continues 
 the search — Goes to church— Hears of a vacancy— Obtains work— The boss takes him for 
 
 a ' fool,' but changes his opinion— Nicknamed 'the Ghost '—Practical jokes — 
 
 Horace metamorphosed- Dispute about commas — The shoemaker's boarding-house — 
 Grand banquet on Sunday s 118 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FROM OFFICE TO OFFICE. 
 
 Leaves West's— Works on the 'Evening Post'— Story of Mr. Lcggett—' Commer- 
 cial Advertiser'- 'Spirit of the Times '—Specimen of his writing at this period— 
 Naturally fond of the drama— Timothy Wiggins— Works for Mr. Redfleld— The 
 first lift 133 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FIRST PENNY PAPER — AND WHO THOUGHT OF IT 
 
 Importance of the cheap dally press — The originator of the idea — History of the idea — 
 Dr. Sheppard's Chatham-street cogitations — The Idea Is conceived— It Is born— Inter- 
 view with Horace Greeley— The Doctor thinks he is ' no common boy '—The schemer 
 baffled- Daily papers twenty-five years ago— Dr. Sheppard comes to a resolution — 
 The firm of Greeley and Story— The Morning Post appears— And fails— The sphere of 
 the cheap press— Fanny Fern and the pea-nut merchant 137 
 
Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 CEAPTER XI. 
 
 THE FIRM CONTINUES. 
 
 PAoa 
 
 Lottery printing— The Constitutionalist — Dudley S. Gregory — The lottery suicide — 
 The firm prospers— Sudden death of Mr. Story— A new partner— Mr. Greeley as a 
 master — A dinner story — Sylvester Graham — Horace Greeley at the Graham House — 
 The New Yorker projected — James Gordon Bennett 140 
 
 CnAPTER XII. 
 
 EDITOR OF THE NEW YORKER. 
 
 Character of the paper— Its early fortune.'!— Happiness of the Editor — Scene in the 
 Offlce— Specimens of Horace Greeley's Poetr)- — Subjects of his E.ssays — His Opinions 
 then— His Marriage — The Silk-stocking Story— A day in Washington— His impressions 
 of the Senate— Pecuniary difficulties— Cause of the New Yorker's ill-success as a 
 Business — The missing letters — The Editor gets a nickname—The Agonies of a Debtor — 
 Park Benjamin- Henry J. Raymond 161 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE JEPFERSONIAN. 
 
 Ohjects of the Jeffersonian— Its character — A novel Glorious- Victory paragraph — The 
 Graves and Cilley duel — The Editor overworked 174 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE LOG CABIN. — "TIPPECANOE AND TYLER TOO." 
 
 Wire-pulling- The delirium of 1840— The Log Cabin— Unprecedented hit— A glance at 
 Us pages — Log Cabin jokes— Log Cabin song— Horace Greeley and the cake-basket — 
 Pecuniary difficulties continue- The Tribune announced 180 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 STARTS THE TRIBUNE. 
 
 The Capital— The Daily Press of New York in 18-11- The Tribune appears— The 
 Omens unpropitious— The first week— Conspiracy to put down the Tribune— The 
 Tribune triumphs— Thomas McElrath— The Tribune alive— Industry of the Editors— 
 Their independence— Horace Greeley and John Tyler- The Tribune a Fixed 
 Fact Ml 
 
CONTENTS. Xlll 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIER ISM. 
 
 TAOB 
 
 What made Horace Greeley a Socialist— Tlie hard winter of IfflS— Albert Brisbane— 
 The subject broached— Series of articles by Mr. Brisbane begun— Their effect— Cry of 
 Mad Dog— Discussion between Horace Greeley and Henry J. Raymond— How it 
 arose — Abstract of it in a convers;itional form 199 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE tribune's second YEAR. 
 
 Increase of price — The Tribune offends the Sixth Ward flghtinfj-racn — The office 
 Threatened— Novel preparations for defense— Charles Dickons defended— The Editor 
 travels — Visits Washinf;ton, and sketches the Senators— At Mount Vernon — At 
 Niagara — A hard hit at Major Noah 217 
 
 CHAPTER XVril. 
 
 THE TRIBUNE AND J. EENIMORE COOPER. 
 
 The libel — Horace Greeley's narrative of the trial— He reviews the opening speech of Mr. 
 Cooper's counsel— A striking illustration — He addresses the jury — Mr. Cooper sums up 
 — Horace Greeley comments on the speech of the novelist — In doing so he perpetrates 
 new libels — The verdict — Mr. Greeley's remarks on the same — Strikes a bee-line for 
 New York — A new suit — An imaginary case 224 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE TRIBUNE CONTINUES. 
 
 The Special Express system — Night adventures of Enoch Ward — Gig "Express— Express 
 from Halifax— Baulked by the snow-drifts — Party warfare then — Books published by 
 Greeley and McElrath — Course of the Tribune — The Editor travels — Scenes in Wash- 
 ington — An incident of travel— Clay and Frelinghuysen — The exertions of Horace 
 Greeley — Results of the defeat— The Trihune and Slavery — Burning of the Tribune 
 Building— The Editor's reflections upon the fire 2-tO 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 Her -writings In the Tribune— She resides with Mr. Greeley— His narrative — Dietetic 
 sparring— Her manner of writing— Woman's Rights — Her generosity — Her Independ- 
 ence — Her love of children — Margaret and Pickie — Her opinion of Mr. Greeley — Death 
 of Pickle 253 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 PAOI 
 
 At war with all the world— The spirit of the Tribune— Retorts vituperative— The Tribune 
 and Dr. Potta— Some prize tracts suggested— An atheist's oath— A word for domestics- 
 Irish Democracy— The modern drama— Hit at Dr. Hawks— Dissolution of the Union- 
 Dr. Fr.\nlclin's story— A Picture for Polk— Charles Dickens and Copyright— Charge of 
 malignant falsehood— Preaching and Practice— Col. Webb severely hit— Hostility to 
 the Mexican war— Violence Incited— A few sparks— The course of the Tribune— Wager 
 with the Herald 263 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 18481 
 
 Kevolution in Europe— The Tribune exults— The Slievegammon letters— Taylor and 
 Fillmore— Course of the Tribune— Horace Greeley at Vauxhall Garden— His election to 
 Congress 239 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 His objects as a Member of Congress — His first acts — The Chaplain hypocrisy— The Land 
 Reform Bill— Distributing the Documents— Offers a novel Resolution— The Mileage 
 Expos^- Congressional delays — Explosion in the House- Mr. Turner's oration — Mr. 
 Greeley defends himself— The Walker Tariff— Congress in a pet— Speech at the 
 Printer's Festival — The house in good humor— Traveling dead-head— Personal expla- 
 nations — A dry haul — The amendment game— Congressional dignity— Battle of the 
 Books— The Recruiting System— The laft night of the Session— The ' usual gratuity '— 
 The Inauguration Ball — Farewell to his constituents 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ASSOCIATION IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 Accessions to the corps — The course of the Tribune — Horace Greeley in Ohio— The 
 Rochester knockings — The mediums at Mr. Greeley's house — Jenny Lind goes to see 
 them — Her behavior— Woman's Rights Convention— The Tribune Association — The 
 hireling system 319 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 ON THE PLATFORjr. — HINTS TOWARDS REFORMS. 
 
 PAOK 
 
 The Lecture System — Comparative popularity of tlie leading Lecturers — Horace 
 Greeley at the Tabernacle — His audience — His appearance — His m.anncr of speaking — 
 His occasional addresses— The 'Hints' published— Its one subject, the Emancipation 
 of Labor— The Problems of the Time— The ' successful ' man— The duty of the State— 
 The educated class — A narrative for workingmcn— The catastroiihe 326 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 The Voyage out — First impression of England— Opening of the Exhibition— Char- 
 acteristic observations — He attends a grand Banquet — He sees the Sights — He speaks 
 at Exeter Hall— The Pl.ay at Devonshire House— Robert Owen's birth-day — Horace 
 Greeley before a Committee of the House of Commons — He throws light upon the 
 subject — Vindicates the American Press — Journey to Paris— The Sights of Paris — The 
 Opera and Ballet — A false Prophet — His opinion of the French — Journey to Italy — 
 Anecdote — A nap in the Diligence — Arrival at Rome — In the Galleries — Scene in the 
 Coliseum — To EngLand again— Triumph of the American Reaper— A week in Ireland 
 and Scotland — His opinion of the English — Homeward Bound— His arrival— The Extra 
 Tribune 346 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 RECENTLY. 
 
 Deliverance from Party — A Private Platform — Last Interview with Henry Clay — Horace 
 
 Greeley a Farmer— He irrigates and drains — His Advice to a Young Man — The Daily 
 
 Times— A costly Mistake — The Isms of the Tribune— The Tribune gets Glory — The 
 
 ^ Tribune in Parliament — Proposed Nomination for Governor— His Life written — A 
 
 Judge's Daughter for Sale 375 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 DAT AND NIGHT IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 The streets before daybreak — Waking the newsboys — Morning scene In the press- 
 room — The Compositors' room — The four Phalanxes — The Tribune Directory — A 
 lull in the Tribune office — A glance at the paper — The advertisements — Tele- 
 graphic marvels — Marine Intelligence — New Publications- Letters from the peo- 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 pie — Editorial articles — The editorial Rooms— The Sanctum Sanctorum — Solon 
 Robinson— Bayard Taylor — William Henry Fry— George Ripley— Charles A. Dana 
 — F. J. Ottarson — George M. Snow — Enter Horace Greeley — His Preliminary both- 
 eration — The composing-room in the evening — The editors at work — Mr. Greeley's 
 manner of writing- Miduight^Three o'clock in the morning — The carriers 391 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. ' 
 
 HORACE GREELEY IN A FRENCH PRISON. 
 
 Voyage to Europe — Visit to the exhibition — At the tomb of Napoleon — Two days in 
 the debtors' prison — In London again — Comments of the editor on men and things 412 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 ASSAULTED IN VTASHINGTON BY A MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 
 
 The provocation — The assault — Why Mr. Greeley did not prosecute — The Tribune in- 
 dicted in Virginia — Correspondence on slavery — Slavery ex labor 435 
 
 CHAPTER XXXT. 
 
 ACROSS THE PLAINS TO CALIFORNIA, 
 
 Farewell to civilizatiou — The buffaloes on the Plains — Conversation with Brigham 
 Young — Remarks upon polygamy — Visit to the Yo Semite Valley — Reception at 
 Sacramento — at San Francisco 451 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 HORACE GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTION OF 1860. 
 
 Mr. Greeley's reasons for opposing Mr. Seward — Mr. Raymond's accusation — The pri- 
 vate letter to Mr. Seward— The comments of Thurlow Weed— The three-cent stamp 
 correspondence— Mr. Greeley a candidate for the Senate — He declines a seat in Mr. 
 Lincoln's Tabernacle 476 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 Mr. Greeley's opinions upon Secession before the war began — The battle of Bull 
 Run — Correspondence with President Lincoln — Ilis peace negotiations — Assault 
 upon the Tribune oftice — Indorses the proffer of the French mission to the editor of 
 the Herald — He writes a history of the war — He offers prizes for improved fruits. . . 496 
 
CONTENTS. XV]i 
 
 CHAPTEIl XXXIV. 
 
 RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 PAQB 
 
 Horace Greeley's plan — His mediation between President Johnson and Congress — He 
 joins in bailing Jefferson Davis — Ilis speech at lUchmond 626 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Horace Greeley upon poetry and the poets — lie objects to being enrolled among the 
 poets — His advice to a country editor — His religious opinions — Upon marriage and 
 divorce — His idea of an American college — How he would bequeath an estate — 
 How he became a protectionist — Advice to ambitious young men — To the lovers 
 of knowledge — To young lawyers and doctors — To country merchants — How far 
 he is a poUtician — A toast — Keply to begging letters 552 
 
 Cn^iPTER XXXVI. 
 
 CONCLUSION, 
 
 Mr. Greeley's appearajicc and phrenology— A visit to his residence— His ambition- 
 He does not couii'. raajorilios g^ 
 
 APPENDIX 
 HORACE Greeley's advice to American farmers. 
 
 An Address at the Fayette County Agricultural Fair, Connersville, Indiana, Sep- 
 tember 8, 1858 583 
 
[lIORATE CKKKLEY IX 1854 
 
THE LIFE OF HORACE (JREELEY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SCOTCH-IRISH OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 L ^donderry in Ireland — The Sie?c— Emigration to Now Eugliiid — Setlloment of 
 Loiiiloudeiry, New Hampshire— The Scotch-Irish introduce the cullure of th« 
 potato and the manufacture of linen — Character of the Scotch-Irish— Their sim- 
 plicity—Love of fun — Storiea of the early clergymen — Traits iu the Scotch- 
 Irish character — Zeal of the Londonderrians in the Revolution — Horace Greeley's 
 allusion to his Scotch-Irish ancestry. 
 
 New IIampshiee, the native State of Horace Greeley, was set- 
 t!»-(l in part by colonists from Massachusetts and Counecticut, and 
 in part by emigrants from the north of Ireland. The latter were 
 called Scotch-Irish, for a reason which a glance at their liistory 
 •will show. 
 
 Ulster, the most northern of the four provinces of Ireland, has 
 been, during the last two hundred and fifty years, superior to the 
 rest in wealth and civilization. The cause of its superiority is 
 known. About the year 1612, when James I. was king, there was 
 a rebellion of the Catholics iu the nortli of Ireland. Upon its sup- 
 pression, Ulster, embracing tlie six northern counties, and contain- 
 ing half a million acres of land, fell to the king by the attainder 
 of the rebels. Under royal encouragement and furtherance, a com- 
 pany was formed in London for the purpose of planting colonies in 
 that fertile province, which lay waste from the ravages of the re- 
 cent war. The land was divided into shares, the largest of which 
 did not exceed two thousand acres. Oi lonists were invited over 
 from England and Scotland. The natives were expelled from their 
 fastnesses in the hills, and forced to settle upon the plains. Some 
 
20 THE SCOTCH-IRISH OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 eflforts, it appears, were made to teach them arts and agriculture. 
 Robbery and assassination were punished. And, tlius, by the in- 
 fusion of new blood, and the partial iinproveineiit of the ancient 
 race, Ulster, which had been the most savage and turbulent of the 
 Irish provinces, became, and remains to this day, the best culti- 
 vated, the richest, and the most civilized. 
 
 One of the six counties was Londonderry, the capital of wliich, 
 called by the same name, had been sacked and razed during the 
 rebellion. The city was now rebuilt by a company of adventurers 
 from London, and the county was settled by a colony from Argyle- 
 shire in Scotland, who were thenceforth called Scotch-Irish. Of 
 what stuff these Scottish colonists were made, their after-history 
 amply and gloriously shows. The colony took root and flourished 
 in Londonderry. In 1689, the year of the immortal siege, the city 
 was an important fortified town of twenty-seven thousand inhabit- 
 ant«, and the county was proportionally populous and productive. 
 William of Orange had reached the British throne. James II. re- 
 turning from France had landed in Ireland, and was making an 
 effort to recover his lost inheritance. The Irish Catholics were 
 still loyal to him, and hastened to rally round his banner. But 
 Ulster was Protestant and Presbyterian ; the city of Londonderry 
 was Ulster's stronghold, and it was the chief impediment in the 
 way of James' proposed descent upon Scotland. With what reso- 
 lution and daring the people of Londonderry, during the ever-mem- 
 orable siege of that city, fought and endured for Protestantism and 
 freedom, the world well knows. For seven months they held out 
 against a besieging army, so numerous that its slain numbered nine 
 thousand. The besieged lost three thousand men. To such ex- 
 tremities were they reduced, that among the market quotations of 
 the times, we find items like these:— a quarter of a dog, five shil- 
 lings and six-pence ; a dog's head, two and six-pence ; horse-flesh, 
 one and six-pence per pound ; horse-blood, one shilling per quart ; a 
 cat, four and six-pence; a rat, one shilling; a mouse, six-pence. 
 When all the food that remained in the city was nine half-starved 
 horses and a pint of meal per man, the people were still resolute. 
 At the veiy last extremity, they were relieved by a provisioned 
 fleet, and the army of James retired in despair. 
 
 On the settlement of the kingdom under William and Mary, the 
 
EMIGRATION TO NEW ENGLAND. 21 
 
 Presbyterians of Londonderry did not tind themselves in the en 
 joyment of the freedom to "which they conceived themselves enti- 
 tled. They were dissenters from the established church. Their 
 pastors were not recognized by the law as clergymen, nor their 
 places of worship as churches. Tithes were exacted for the support 
 of the Episcopal clergy. Tliey were not proprietors <.A' tiie soil, 
 but held their lands as tenants of the crown. Tliey were liated 
 alike, and ccpially, by the Irish Catholics and tlie Eiit^^lish Ej)iscopa- 
 lians. When, therefore, in 1G17, a son of one of the leading cler- 
 gyman returned from New England with glowing accounts of that 
 ' plantation,' a furor of emigration arose in the town and county 
 of Londonderry, and portions of four Presbyterian congregations, 
 with their four pastors, united in a scheme for a simultaneous remo- 
 val across the seas. One of the clergymen was first despatched to 
 Boston to make the needful inquiries and arrangements. lie was 
 the bearer of an address to " His Excellency, the Right Honorable 
 Colonel Samuel Smith, Governor of New Enghxnd," which assured 
 his Excellency of " our sincere and hearty inclination to transport 
 ourselves to tiiat very excellent and renowned plantation, upon our 
 obtaining from his Excellency suitable encouragement." To this 
 address, the original of which still exists, two hundred and seven 
 names were appended, and all but seven in the hand-writing of the 
 individuals signing — a fact which proves the superiority of the emi- 
 grants to the majority of their countrymen, both in position and 
 intelligence. One of the subscribers was a baronet, nine were cler- 
 gymen, and three others were graduates of the University of Ed- 
 inburgh. 
 
 On the fourth of August, 1718, the advance party of Scotch- 
 ■ Irish emigrants arrived in five ships at Boston. Some of them re- 
 mained in tliat city and founded the church in Federal street, of which 
 Dr. Ciianning was afterwards pastor. Others attempted to settle in 
 Worcester ; but as they were Irish and Presbyterians, such a 
 storm of prejudice against them arose among the enlightened 
 Congregationalists of that place, that they were obliged to flee be- 
 fore it, and seek refuge in the less populous places of Massachusetts. 
 Sixteen families, after many months of tribulation and wandering, 
 selected for their permanent abode a tract twelve miles square, 
 called Nutfield, which now embraces the townships of Loudon 
 
22 THE SCOTCH-IRISH OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 derry, Derry and Wiiiliam, in Rockiiigliam county, New ITamp 
 shire. The land was a free gift from tlie king, in consideration ol 
 the services rendered liis throne by the people of Londonderry in the 
 defense of their city. To eacli settler was assigned a farm of one 
 hundred and twenty acres, a house lot, and an out lot of sixty 
 acres. The lauds of tlie men who had personally served during 
 the siege, were exempted from taxation, and were known down to 
 the period of the revolution as the Exemjjt Farms. Tlie settle- 
 ment of Londonderry attracted new emigrants,- and it soon became 
 one of the most prosperous and famous in the colony. 
 
 It was tliere that the potato was first cultivated, and there that 
 linen was first made in New England. The English colonists at that 
 day appear to have been unacquainted with the culture of the po- 
 tato, aiul the familiar story of the Audover farmer who mistook the 
 balls which grow on the potato vine for the genuine fruit of the 
 plant, is mentioned by a highly respectable lustorian of New Hamp- 
 shire as " a well-authenticated fact." 
 
 Witli regard to the linen manufacture, it may be mentioned as a 
 proof of the thrift and skill of the Scotch-Irish settlers, that, as early 
 as the year 1748, the linens of Londonderry had so high a reputa- 
 tion in the colonies, that it was found necessary to take measures to 
 prevent tlie linens made in other towns from being fraudulently sold 
 for those of Londonderry manufacture. A town meeting was held 
 in that year for tlie purpose of api)ointing " fit and proper persons 
 to survey and inspect linens and I'ollands nuvde in the town for sale, 
 80 that the credit of our manufactory be kept up, and the purchaser 
 of our linens may not be imposed upon with foreign and outlandish 
 linens in the name of ours." Inspectors and sealers were accord- 
 ingly appointed, who were to examine and stamp "all the hollanda 
 made and to be made in our town, whether brown, white, speckled, 
 or checked, that are to be exposed for sale ;" for which service they 
 were empowered to demand from the owner of said linen "sixpence, 
 old tenor, for each piece." And this occurred within thirty yeara 
 from the erection of tlie first log-hut in the towns"*jip of London- 
 derry. However, the people had brought their spinning and weav- 
 ing implements with them from Ireland, and their industry was not 
 once interrupted by an attack of Indians. 
 
 These Scotch -Irish of Londonderry were a very peculiar people. 
 
CHARACTER OF TUB SCOTCH-IRISH. 23 
 
 They were ScoicJi-Irish in character and ia name ; of Irish viva- 
 city, generosity, and daring; Scotch in frugality, iu(/ustry, and reso- 
 lution ; a race in whose composition nature seems, for once, to have 
 kindly blended the qualities that render men interesting with those 
 that render them prosperous. Their habits and their minds were 
 simple. They lived, for many years after the settlement began to 
 thrive, upon the fish which they caught at the falls of Amoskeag, 
 upon game, and upon such products of the soil as beans, potatoes, 
 samp, and barley. It is only since the year 1800 that tea and ooftee, 
 those ridiculous and effeminating drinks, came into anything like 
 general use among them. It was not till some time after the Revo- 
 lution that a chaise was seen in Londonderry, and even then it ex- 
 cited great wonder, and was deemed an unjustifiable extravagance. 
 Shoes, we are told, were little worn in the summer, except on Sun- 
 days and holidays ; and then they were carried in the Tiand to within, 
 a short distance of the church, ichere they were put on ! There was 
 little buying and selling among them, but much borrowing and 
 lending. " If a neighbor killed a calf," says one writer, " no part 
 of it was sold; but it was distributed among relatives and friends, 
 the poor widow always having a piece; and the minister, if he did 
 not get the shoulder, got a portion as good." The women were ro- 
 bust, worked on the farms in the busy seasons, reaping, mowing, 
 and even ploughing on occasion; and the hum of the spinning- 
 wheel was heard in every house. An athletic, active, indomitable, 
 prolitic, long-lived race. For a couple to have a dozen children, 
 and for all the twelve to reach maturity, to marry, to have large 
 families, and die at a good old age, seems to have been no uncom 
 mon case among the original Londonderrians. 
 - Love of fun was one of their marked characteristics. One ot 
 their descendants, the Rev. J. H. Morrison, has written — " A proui 
 inent trait in the character of the Scotch-Irish was their ready wit 
 No subject was kept sacred from it; the thoughtless, the grave, the 
 old, and the young, alike enjoyed it. Our fathers were serious, 
 thoughtful men, but they lost no occasion which might promise sport. 
 Weddings, huskings, log-rollmgs and raisings — what a host of queer 
 stories i? connected with them ! Our ancestors dearly loved fun. 
 There was a grotesque humor, and yet a seriousness, jiathos and 
 strangeness about them, which in its way has, perhaps, never been 
 
24 ' THE SCOTCH-IRISH OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 equaled. It was tlie sternness of tlie Scotch Covenanter, softened 
 by a century's residence abroad, amid persecution and trial, wedded 
 to the comic humor and pathos of the Irish, and then grown wild 
 in the woods among their own New England mountains." ' 
 
 There never existed a peojjle at once so jovial and so religious. 
 This volume could bo filled with a collection of their religious re- 
 partees and pious jokes. It was Pat. Larkin, a Scotch-Irishman, 
 near Londonderry, who, when he was accused of being a Catholic, 
 because his parents were Catholics, replied : "If a man happened 
 to be born in a stable, would that make him a horse ?" and he won 
 his bride by that timely spark. 
 
 Quaint, bold, and witty were the old Scotch-Irish clergymen, 
 the men of the siege, as mighty with carnal weapons as with 
 spiritual. There was no taint of the sanctimonit)Us in their rough, 
 honest, and healthy natures. During the old French war, it is re- 
 lated, a British officer, in a peculiarly "stunning" uniform, came 
 one Sunday morning to the Londonderry Meeting House. Deeply 
 conscious was this individual that he was exceedingly well dressed, 
 and he took pains to display his finery and his figure by standing 
 in an attitude, during the delivery of the sermon, wliich had the 
 effect of withdrawing the minds of the young ladies from the same. 
 At length, the minister, who had both fought and preached in 
 Londonderry ' at home,' and feared neither man, beast, devil, nor 
 red-coat, addressed the officer thus : " Ye are a braw lad ; ye ha'e 
 a braw suit of claithes, and we ha'e a' seen them ; ye may sit 
 doun." The officer subsided instantly, and old Dreadnought went 
 on with his sermon as though nothing had happened. The same 
 clergyman once began a sermon on the vain self-confidence of St. 
 Peter, with the following energetic remarks : " Just like Peter, aye 
 Euair forrit than wise, ganging swaggering about wi' a sword at his 
 side ; an' a puir hand he made of it when he came to the trial ; for 
 he only cut off a chiel's lug, an' he ought to ha' split down his 
 Jiead.^'' On another occasion, he is said to have opened on a well- 
 known text in this fashion : " ' I can do all things ;' ay, can ye 
 Paul? I'll bet yea dollar o' that (placing a dolUir on the desk). 
 But stop! let's see what else Paul says: 'I can do all things 
 through Christ, which strengtheneth me ;' ay, sae can I, Paul. I 
 draw my bet," and he returr'^d the dollar to his pocket. Thej 
 
TBAITS IN THE SCOTCH CIIARACTEH. 25 
 
 prayed ji j( >ke soinetiines, those Scotcli-Iri.sh clergymen. One pastor, 
 dining with a new settler, wlio had no table, and served np his 
 dinner in a basket, implored Heaven to bless the man " in his hasket^ 
 and in his .-tore;" which Heaven did, for the man afterwards grew 
 rich. " What is the difference," asked a youth, "between tlie Con- 
 gregationalists and Presbyterians?" "The difference is," replied 
 the pastor, witli becoming gravity, "that tiie Congregationalist 
 goes home between the services and eats a regular dinner; but the 
 Presbyterian puts off his till after meeting." 
 
 And how pious they were ! For many years after the settle- 
 ment, the omission of the daily act of devotion in a single household 
 would have excited general alarm. It is related as a fact^ that 
 the first [)astor of Londonderry, being informed one evening that 
 an individual was becoming neglectful of family worship, imme- 
 diately repaired to his dwelling. The family had retired; he called 
 up the master of the house, inquired if the report was true, and 
 asked him whether he had omitted family prayer that evening. The 
 man confessed that he had; and the pastor, havmg admonished him 
 of his fault, refused to leave the house until the delin(|uent liad called 
 up his wife, and performed with her the omitted observance. The 
 first settlers of some of the towns near Londonderry walked every 
 Sunday eight, ten, twelve miles to church, taking their children 
 with them, and crossing the Merrimac in a canoe or on a raft. 
 The first public enterprises of every settlement were the building of 
 a church, the construction of a block-liouse for defense against the 
 Indians, and the establishment of a school. In the early times,of 
 course, every man went to church with his gun, and the minister 
 preached peace and good-will with a loaded musket peering above 
 the sides of the pulpit. 
 
 The Sci>t(;h-Irish were a singularly Aanesf people. There is an 
 entry in ilie town-record for 173-4, of a complaint against John 
 Morrison, that, having found an axe on the road, he did not leave 
 it at the next tavern, ' as the laws of the country doth require.' John 
 acknowledged the fact, but pleaded in extenuation, that the axe 
 was of so small value, that it would not have paid the cost of pro- 
 claiming. Tlie session, however, censured him severely, and ex- 
 horted him to repent of the evil. The l\)llowing is a curious extract 
 from the records of a Scotch-Irish settlement for 1756 : " Voted, to 
 
 2 
 
26 THE SCOTCH-IUISU OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 give Mr. John Iloustiui oqual to forty pounds sterling, in old tenor, 
 as the law shall find the rate in dollars or sterling money, for hig 
 yearly stipend, if he is our ordained minister. And what number 
 of Sabbath days, annual!}', we shall think ourselves not able to pay 
 him, he shall have at his own use and disposal, deducted out of the 
 aforesaid sum in proportion." The early records of those settle- 
 ments abound in evidence, that the people had an habitual and 
 most scrupulous regard for the rights of one another. 
 
 Kind, generous, and compassionate, too, they were. Far back in 
 1725, when the little colony was but seven years old, and the people 
 were struggling with their first ditticulties, we find the session or- 
 dering two collections in the cliurch, one to assist James Clark to 
 ransom his son from the Indians, which produced five pounds, and 
 another for the relief of William Moore, whose two cows had been 
 killed by the falling of a tree, which produced three pounds, seven- 
 teen shillings. These were great sums in those early days. We 
 read, also, in the History of Londonderry, of MacGregor, its first 
 pastor, becoming the champion and defender of a personal enemy 
 who was accused of arson, but whom the magnanimous pastoi 
 believed innocent. He volunteered his defense in court. The mau 
 was condemned and imprisoned, but MacGregor continued his ex- 
 ertions in behalf of tlie prisoner until his innocence was established 
 and the judgment was reversed. 
 
 That they were a brave people need scarcely be asserted. Of 
 that very MacGregor the story is told, that when he went out at 
 the head of a committee, to remonstrate with a belligerent partj', 
 who were unlawfully cutting hay from the out-lands of London- 
 derry, and one of the hay-stealers, in the lieat of dispute, shook his 
 fist in the minister's face, saying, " Nothing saves you, sir, but your 
 black coat," MacGregor instantly exclaimed, " Well, it shan't save 
 you^ sir," and pulling oti' his coat, was about to suit the action to 
 the word, when the enemy beat a sudden retreat, and troubled the 
 Londonderrians no more. The Scotcli-L-ish of New Hampshire 
 were among tiie first to catch the si)irit of the Revolution. They 
 confronted British troops, and successfully too, lef'ore the battle of 
 Lexington. Four English soldiers had deserted from their quarters 
 in Boston, and taken refuge in Londonderry. A party of troops, 
 dispatched for their arrest, discovered, secured, and conveyed them 
 
HORACE GREELKY S ALLUSION TO HIS ANCESTRY. 27 
 
 part of tlio way to Boston. A band of young men assembled and 
 pursued them ; and so ovevAAved the British officer by the boldness 
 of their demeanor, that he gave up his prisoners, who were escorted 
 back to Londonderry in triumph. There were remarkably feW' 
 tories in Londonderry. The town was united almost us one man 
 on the side of Independence, and sent, it is believed, more men to 
 the war, and contributed more money to the cause, than any other 
 town of equal resources in New England. Here are a few of tha 
 town-meeting "votes" of tlie first months of the war: " Vofed, to 
 give our men that have gone to the Massachusetts government 
 seven dollars a month, until it be known what Congress will do in 
 that affair, and that the officers shall have as much pay as those in 
 the bay government." — " Voted, that a committee of nine men bo 
 chosen to inquire into the conduct of those men that are thought 
 not to be friends of their country." — " Voted, that the aforesaid com- 
 mittee have no pay." — " Voted, that twenty more men be raised im- 
 mediately, to be ready upon the first emergency, as fuinuto men." — 
 " Voted, that twenty more men be enlisted in Capt. Aiken's com- 
 pany, as minute men." — " Voted, that the remainder of the stock of 
 powder shall be divided out to every one that hath not already re- 
 ceived of the same, as far as it will go ; provided he produces a guu 
 of his own, in good order, and is willing to go against the enemy, 
 and promises not to waste any of the powder, only in self-defense', 
 and provided, also, that he show twenty good bullets to suit his 
 gun, and six good flints." In 1777 the town gave a. bounty of 
 thirty pounds for every man who enlisted for three years. All the 
 records and traditions of the revolutionary period breathe unity and 
 determination Stark, the hero of Bennington, was a Londou- 
 derrian. 
 
 Such were the Scotch-Irish of New Hampshire ; of such matei-ial 
 were the maternal ancestors of Horace Greeley composed ; and 
 from his maternal ancestors he derived much that distinguishes him 
 from men in general. 
 
 In the "New Yorker" for August 28, 1841, he alluded to his 
 Scotch-Irish origin in a characteristic way. Noticing Cliarlotta 
 Elizabeth's " Siege of Derry," he wrote : 
 
 " We do not like this work, and wo choose to say so frankly. 
 What is the use of reviving and aggravating these old stories (akial 
 
28 THE SCOTCH-IRISH OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 how true !) of scenes in whicli Christians of diverse creeds lia\e tor« 
 tured and butchered each other for the glory of God ? We had an- 
 cestors in that same Siege of Derry, — on the Protestant side, of 
 course,— and our sympathies are all on that side; but we cannot 
 forget that intolerance and persecution — especially in Ireland — are 
 by no means exclusively Catholic errors and crimes. Who j)erse- 
 cutes in Ireland now? On what principle of Christian toleration 
 are the poor man's pig and potatoes wrested from him to pay tithes 
 to a church he abhors? We do hope the time is soon coming wlien 
 man will no more persecute his brother for a difference of faith ; 
 but that time will never be hastened by the publication of such 
 books as ^he Siege of l)erry." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ANCESTORS, — PARENTAGE. — ^BIRTH. 
 
 Origin of the Family — Old Cnplniii Ezekiel Creeley — Zaccheus Greeley — 2kiccheus 
 the Secimd — Rougluiess and Tenacity of the CJri-eley race--Materiml Ancestors of 
 Horace (irteley — Jolm VVoodbiirii — ('haracler of Horiice Greeley's Great-graiid« 
 mother — Mis Graiidiiiolhcr — Romanlii- Incident— Horace Greeley is born "as black 
 as a chimney" — Comes to liis color — Succeeds to the name of Horace. 
 
 The name of Greeley is an old and not uncommon one in New 
 England. It is spelt (ireeley, Greely, Greale, and Greele, but all 
 who bear the name in this country trace their origin to the same 
 source. 
 
 The tradition is, that very early in the history of New England — 
 probably as early as 1650 — three brothers, named Greeley, emigrat- 
 ed from tlie neighborhood of Nottingham, England. One of them 
 is supposed to have settled finally in Maine, another in Rhode 
 Island, the third in Massachusetts. All the Greeleys in New Eng- 
 land have descended from these three brothers, and the branch of 
 the family with which we have to do, from him who settled in Mas* 
 sachusetts. Respecting the condition and social rank of these broth- 
 ers, their occupation and character, tradition is silent. But from 
 
\ ! 
 
 
cJjtLQ 
 
 / 
 
 > 
 
 ] 
 
CAPTAIN EZEKIEL GREELEY. 29 
 
 the fact tliat no coat-of-anus lias been preserved or ever lie;., i of 
 by any nicinber of tlie family, and from tlie occupation of tht ma- 
 jority of their descendants, it is plausibly conjectured that Ihoy 
 were farmers of moderate means and of the middle class. 
 
 Tradition further hints that the name of the brother who f amd 
 a home in Massachusetts was Benjamin, that he was a farmer, that 
 he lived in Haverhill, a township bordering on the south-eastern cor- 
 ner of New Hampshire, that he prospered tliere, and died respected 
 by all who knew him at a good old age. So far, tradition. Wo 
 now draw from the memory of individuals still living. 
 
 TChe son of Benjamin Greeley wasEzekiel, "old Oai)tuin Ezekiel," 
 who lived and greatly flourished at Hudson, New Hampshire, (then 
 known as Nottingliam West,) and is well remembered there, and in 
 all the region round about. The captain was not a military man. He 
 was half lawyer, half farmer. He was a sharp, cunning, scheming, 
 cool-headed, cold-hearted man, one wlio lived by his wits, who always 
 got his cases, always succeeded in his plans, always prospered in his 
 speculations, and grew rich without ever doing a day's work in his life. 
 He is remembered by his grandsons, who saw him in their childiiood, 
 as a black-eyed, black-haired, heavy-browed, stern-looking man, of 
 complexion almost as dark as that of an Indian, and not unlike ati In- 
 dian in temper. " A cross old dog," " a hard old knot," " as cunning 
 us Lucifer," are among the complimentary expressions bestowed upon 
 him by bis descendants. " All he had," says one, " was at the service 
 of the rich, but he was hard upon the poor." " His religion was nom- 
 inally Baptist," says another, " but really to get money." " lie got 
 all he could, and saved all he got," chimes in a third. He died, at the 
 age ot sixty-five, with "all histeetli sound, and worth three hundred 
 acres of good land. He is spoken of with that sincere respect which, 
 in New England, seems never to be denied to a very smart man, 
 who succeeds by strictly legal means in acquiring property, however 
 wanting in principle, however destitute of feeling, that man may 
 be. Hai)pily, the wife of old Captain Ezekiel was a gentler and 
 better being than her husband. 
 
 And, therefore, Zaccheus, the son of old Captain Ezekiel, was a 
 gentler and better man than his father. Zaccheus inherited part of 
 his father's land, and was a farmer all the days of his life. He was 
 not, it appears, " too fond of work," though far more industrious 
 
30 ANCESTORS. PARENTAGE. BIRTH, 
 
 tliaii his father ; a man who took hie easily, of strict integrity, 
 kiiul-liearted, gentle-inanoered, not ill to do in the world, but not 
 •what is called in New England " 'fore-handed." He is remembered 
 in the neighborhood where he lived chiefly for his extraordinary 
 knowledge of the Bible. He could quote texts more readily, cor- 
 rectly, and profusely than any of his neighbors, laymen or clergy- 
 men. He had the reputation of knowing the whole Bible by heart. 
 He was a Baptist ; and all who knew him unite in declaring that a 
 worthier man never lived than Zaccheus Greeley, He had a large 
 family, and lived to the age of ninety-five. 
 
 His second son was named Zaccheus also, and he is the father of 
 Horace Greeley. He is still living, and cultivates an ample domain 
 in Erie County, Pennsylvania, acquired in part by his own arduous 
 labors, in part by the labors of his second son, and in part by the 
 liberality of his eldest son Horace. At this time, in tlie seventy- 
 third year of his age, his form is as straight, his step as decided, 
 his constitution nearly as firm, and his look nearly as young, as 
 though he were in the prime of life. 
 
 All the Greeleys that I have seen or heard described, are persons 
 of marked and peculiar characters. Many of them are " charac- 
 ters.'''' The word which perhaps best describes the quality fo 
 which they are distinguislied is tenacity. They are, as a race, tena- 
 cious of life, tenacious of opinions and preferences, of tenacious 
 memory, and tenacious of their purposes. One member of the 
 family died at the age of one hundred and twenty years; and a 
 large proportion of the early generations lived more than three 
 Bcore years and ten. Few of the name have been rich, but most 
 have been persons of substance and respectability, acquiring their 
 property, generally, by the cultivation of the soil, and a soil, too, 
 which does not yield its favors to the sluggard. It is the boast 
 of those members of the family who have attended to its geneal- 
 ogy, that no Greeley was ever a prisoner, a pauper, or, worse than 
 either, a tory ! Two of Horace Greeley's great uncles perished at 
 Bennington, and he was fully justified in his assertion, made in the 
 heat of the Roman controversy a few years ago, that he was " born 
 of republican parentage, of an ancestry which participated vividly 
 in the hopes and fears, the convictions and efforts of the American 
 Havolution." And he added : " We cannot disavow nor prove rec- 
 
TOUGHNESS OF THE GREELEY RACE. 31 
 
 reant to the principles on wliicli that Eevolution was justified — on 
 which only it can be justified. If adherence to these principles 
 makes us 'the unmitigated enemy of Pius IX.,' we regret the en- 
 mity, but cannot abjure our principles." 
 
 The maiden name of Iloraco Greeley's mother was Woodburn, 
 Mary Woodburn, of Londonderry. 
 
 The founder of the Woodburn family in this country was John 
 "Woodburn, who emigrated from Londonderry in Ireland, to London- 
 derry in New Hampshire, about the year 1725, seven years after the 
 settlement of the original sixteen families. He came over with his 
 brother David, who was drowned a few years after, leaving a fam- 
 ily. Neither of the brothers actually served in the siege of Lon- 
 donderry ; they were too young for that ; but they were both men 
 of the true Londonderry stamp, men with a good stroke in their 
 arms, a merry twinkle in their eyes, indomitable workei's, and not 
 more brave in fight than indefatigable in frolic ; fair-haired men 
 like all their brethren, and gall-less. 
 
 John Woodburn obtained the usual grant of one hundred and 
 twenty acres of land, besides the " out-lot and home-lot " before 
 alluded to, and ho took root in Londonderry and flourished. lie 
 was twice married, and was the father of two sons and nine daugh- 
 ters, all of whom (as children did in those healthy times) lived to 
 maturity, and all but one married. John Woodburn's second wife, 
 from whom Horace Greeley is descended, was a remarkable wo- 
 man. Mr. Greeley has borne this testimony to her worth and in- 
 fluence, in a letter to a friend which some years ago escai)ed into 
 print: " I think I am indebted for my first impulse toward intel- 
 lectual acquirement and exertion to my mother's grandmother, who 
 came out from Ireland among the first settlers in Londonderry. 
 She must have been well versed in Irish and Scotch traditions, 
 pretty well informed and strong minded; and my mother being left 
 motherless when quite young, her grandmother exerted great influ- 
 ence over her mental development. I A'as a third child, the two 
 preceding having died young, and I presume my mother was the 
 more attached to me on that ground, and the extreme feebleness of 
 my constitution. My mind was early filled by her with the tradi- 
 tions, ballads, and snatches of history she had learned from her 
 grandmother, which, though conveying very distorted and incorrect 
 
32 ANCESTORS. PARENTAGE. BIRTH. 
 
 Ideas of history, yet served to awaken in me a thirst for knowledge 
 and a lively interest in learning and history." John Woodburn died 
 in 1780. Mrs. Woodburn, the subject of tlic passage just quoted, 
 sui'vived her husband many years, lived to see her children's grand- 
 children, and to acquire throughout the noigliborhood the familiar 
 title of " Granny Woodburn." 
 
 David Woodburn, the grandfather of Horace Greeley, was the 
 eldest son of John Woodburn, and the inheritor of his estate. He 
 married Margaret Clark, a granddaughter of that Mrs. Wilson, the 
 touching story of whose deliverance from pirates was long a favor- 
 ite tale at the firesides of the early settlers of New Hampsliire. 
 In 1720, a ship containing a company of Irish emigrants bound to 
 New England was captured by pirates, and while the ship was in 
 their possession, and tbe fate of the passengers still undecided, Mrs. 
 Wilson, one of the company, gave birth to her first child. The cir- 
 cumstance so moved the pirate captain, wlio was himself a husband 
 and a father, that he permitted the emigrants to pursue their voyage 
 Kinharmed. He bestowed upon Mrs. Wilson some valuable pres- 
 ents, among others a silk dress, pieces of which are still preserved 
 among her descendants; and he obtained from her a promise that 
 she would call the infant by the name of his wife. The ship 
 reached its destination in safety, and tlie day of its deliverance from 
 the hands of the pirates was atmually observed as a day of thanks- 
 giving by the passengers for many years. Mrs. Wilson, after the 
 death of her first husband, became the wife of James Clark, whose 
 son John was the father of Mrs. David Woodburn, whose daugh- 
 ter Mary was the mother of Horace Greeley. 
 
 The descendants of John Woodburn are exceedingly numerous, 
 and contribute largely, says Mr. Parker, the historian of London- 
 derry, to the hundred thousand who are supposed to have de- 
 scended from the early settlers of the town. The grandson of John 
 Woodburn, a very genial and jovial gentleman, still owns and tilla 
 the land originally granted to the family. At the old homestead, 
 about the year 1807, Zaccheus Greeley and Mary Woodburn were 
 married. 
 
 Zaccheus Greeley inherited nothing from his father, and Mary 
 Woodburn received no more than the usual household portion from 
 hers, Zaccheus, as the sons of New England farmers usually do, 
 
HORACE GREKLEY IS BORN BLACK. 83 
 
 or did in (h i?c days, went out to work as soon as Jie wa" old 
 enough to do a day's work. lie saved his earnings, and in his 
 twenty-fifth year was the owner of a farm in the town of Auilierst, 
 Hillsborough county, New Hampshire. 
 
 There, on the third of Fel)ruary, 1811, Horace Greeley was born. 
 He is the third of seven children, of whom the two elder died be- 
 fore he was born, and the four younger are still living. 
 
 The mode of his entrance upon the stage of the world was, to 
 say the least of it, unusual. The eftbrt was almost tot) much for 
 him, and, to use the language of one who was present, " he came 
 into the world as black as a chimney." There were no signs of 
 life. He uttered no cry ; he made no motion ; he did not breathe. 
 But the little discolored stranger had articles to write, and was not 
 permitted to escape his destiny. In this alarming crisis of his exist- 
 ence, a kind-hearted and experienced aunt came to his rescue, and 
 by arts, which to kind-hearted and experienced aunts are well 
 known, but of which the present chronicler remains in ignorance, 
 the boy was brought to life. lie soon began to breathe ; then he 
 began to blush ; and by the time he had attained the age of twenty 
 minutes, lay on liis mother's arm, a red and smiling infant. 
 
 In due time, the boy received the name of Horace. There had 
 been another little Horace Greeley before him, but he had died in 
 infancy, and his parents wished to preserve in their second son a 
 living memento of their first. The name was not introduced into 
 the family from any partiality on the part of his parents for the 
 Roman poet, but because his father had a relative so named, and 
 because the mother had read the name in a book and liked the 
 sound of it. The sound of it, however, did not often regale the 
 maternal ear ; for, in New England, where the name of ttie oi/^Ttly 
 satirist is frequently given, its household diminutive is " Hod;" and 
 by that elegant monosyllable ,he boy was commonly called among 
 his juvenile fi-iends. 
 
 2* 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 The Village of Amherst— Character of the adjacent country— The Greeley farm 
 The Tribune in the room in which its Editor was born— Horace learns to read- 
 Book up-side down— Goes to school in Londondeny — A district school fortj 
 years ago— Horace as a young orator— Has a mania for spelling hard words— Geta 
 great glory at the spellin-g school — Recollections of his surviving schoolfellows — 
 His future eminence foretold -Delicacy of ear— Early choice of a trade— Hia 
 courage and timidity— Goes to school in Hedford— A favorite among his school- 
 fellows — His early fondness for the village newspaper — Lies in ambush for the 
 post-rider who brought it— Scours the country for books— Pmject of sending him 
 to an academy — The old sea-captain — Horace as a farmer's boy — Let us do our 
 stint first- His way of fishing. 
 
 Amherst is the county town of Hillsborough, one of the three 
 05unties of New Hampshire which are bounded on the South by 
 the State of Massachusetts. It is forty-two miles north-west of 
 Boston. 
 
 The village of Amherst is a pleasant place. Seen from the summit 
 of a distant hill, it is a white dot in the middle of a level plain, en- 
 circled by cultivated and gently-sloping hills. On a nearer ap- 
 proach the traveler perceives that it is a cluster of white houses, 
 looking as if they had alighted among the trees and might take to 
 wing again. On entering it he finds himself in a very pretty vil- 
 lage, built round an ample green and shaded by lofty trees. It con- 
 tains three churches, a printing-office, a court-house, a jail, a 
 tavern, naif a dozen stores, an exceedingly minute watchmaker's 
 snop, and a hundred private houses. There is not a human being 
 to be seen, nor a sound to be heard, except the twittering of birds 
 overhead, and the distant whistle of a locomotive, which in those 
 remote regions seems to make the silence audible. The utter 
 silence and the deserted aspect of the older villages in New Eng- 
 land, are remarkable. In the morning and evening there is 
 some appearance of life in Amherst ; but in the hours of the day 
 when the men are at work, the women busy with their household 
 affairs, and the children at school, the visitor may sit at the win- 
 
[the scuuol house.] 
 
AMHERST. 35 
 
 da if tlie villiii^e tavern for an hour at a time and not see a living 
 ci'e.\i. ire. Occasionally a peddler, with sleigh-bells round his horse, 
 goes Jingling by. Occasionally a fanner's wagon drives u[) to one of 
 the stores. Occasionally a stage, rocking in its leather suspenders, 
 stops at the post-office for a moment, and then rocks away again. 
 Occasionally a doctor passes in a very antiquated gig. Occasion- 
 allj' a cock crows, as though he were tired of the dead silence. A 
 New York village, a quarter the size and wealth of Andierst, makes 
 twice its noise and bustle. Forty years ago, however, when Horace 
 Greeley used to come to the stores there, it was a i)lace of some- 
 what more importance and more business than it is now, for Man- 
 chester and Nashua have absorbed many of the little strefmis of 
 traffic which used to How towards the county town. It is a curious 
 evidence of the stationary character of the place, that the village 
 paper, which had fifteen hundred subscribers when ITorace Greeley 
 was three vears old, and learned to read from it, has fifteen hundred 
 subscribers, and no more, at this moment. It bears the same name 
 it did then, is published by the same person, and adheres to the 
 same party. 
 
 The township of Amherst contains about eight square miles of some- 
 what better land than the land of New England generally is. Wheat 
 cannot be grown on it to advantage, but it yields fair returns of 
 rye, oats, potatoes, Indian corn, and young men : the last-named of 
 which commodities forms the chief article of export. The farmers 
 have to contend against hills, rocks, stones innumerable, sand, 
 marsh, and long winters; but a hundred years of tillage have sub- 
 dued these obstacles in part, p.nd the people generally enjoy a safe 
 and moderate prosperity. Yfi. severe is their toil. To see them 
 ploughing along the sides of those steep, rocky hills, the plough 
 creaking, tbf oxen groauin/, the little boy-driver leaping from sod 
 to sod, as an Alpine boy i>) supposed to leap from crag to crag, the 
 ploughman wrenching the plough round the rooks, boy and man 
 every minute or two uniting in a prolonged and agonizing yell for 
 the panting beasts to stop, when the plough is .'ifa9;ht by a hidden 
 rock too large for it to overturn, and the soiemn slowness with 
 which the procession winds, and creaks, and groans along, gives tc 
 the languid citizen, who chances to pass by, a new idea of hard 
 _work, and a new sense of the happiness of his lot. 
 
3o EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 The farm owned by Zaccheus Greeley when his son Horace was 
 born, was four or five miles from the village of Amherst. It con- 
 sisted of fifty acres of land— heavy land to till— rocky, moist, 
 and uneven, wortli then eight hundred dollars, now two tliousand. 
 The house, a small, unpainted, but substantial and well-built farm- 
 liouse, stood, and still stands, upon a ledge or platform, half way 
 up a high, steep, and rocky hill, commanding an extensive and al- 
 most panoramic view of the surrounding country. In whatever 
 direction the boy may have lookeJ, he saw roclc. Rock is the 
 feature of the landscape. There is rock in the old orchard behind 
 the house ; rocks peep out from the grass in the pastures; there is 
 rock along the road ; rock on the sides of the hills ; rock on their 
 summits; rock in the valleys; rock in the woods;— rock, rock, 
 everywhere rock. And yet the country has not a barren look. I 
 should call it % serious looking country ; one that would be congenial 
 to grim covenanters and exiled round-heads. The prevailing colors 
 are dark, even in the brightest month of the year. The lane woods, 
 the rock, the sliade of the hill, the color of the soil, are all dark 
 and serious. It is a still, unfrequented region. One may ride along 
 the road upon which the house stands, for many a mile, without 
 passing a single vehicle. The turtles hobble across the road fear- 
 less of the crushing wheel. If any one wished to know the full 
 meaning of the word country^ as distinguished from the word toicn^ 
 he need do no more than ascend the hill on which Horace Greeley 
 saw the light, and look around. 
 
 Yet, the voice of the city is heard even there ; the opinions of 
 the city influence there; for, observe, in the very room in which 
 our hero was born, on a table which stands where, in other days, a 
 bed stood, we recognize, among the heap of newspapers, the wel]- 
 known heading of the "Weekly Teibune. 
 
 Such was the character of the region in which Horace Greeley 
 passed the greater part of the first seven years of his life. His 
 father's neighbors were all hard-working farmers — men who work- 
 ed their own farms — who were nearly equal in wealth, and to whom 
 the idea of social inequality, founded upon an inequality in possess- 
 ions, did not exist, even as an idea. "Wealth and want were alike 
 unknown. It was a community of plain people, who had derived 
 all their book-knowledge from the district school, and depended 
 
HORACE LEARNS TO READ. 37 
 
 upon the village newspaper for their knowledge of the world with- 
 out. There were no heretics among tliein. All the peojjle either 
 cordi.ally embraced or undoubtingly assented to llie I'aith called 
 Orthodox, and all of them attended, more or less regularly, the 
 churches in wliich that faith was expounded. 
 
 The first great peril of liis existence escaped, tlie boy grew apace, 
 and passed tlirough the minor and ordinary dangers of infancy with- 
 out having his equanimity seriously disturbed. lie was a "quiet 
 and peaceable child," reports his father, and, though far from robust, 
 suffered little from actual sickness. 
 
 To say tiiat Horace Greeley, from the earliest montiis of his exist- 
 ence, manifested signs of extraordinary intelligence, is only to repeat 
 what every biographer asserts of his hero, and every mother of her 
 child. Yet, common-place as it is, the truth must be told. Horace 
 Greeley dkl^ as a very young child, manifest signs of extraordinary 
 intelligence. lie took to learning with the promptitude and in- 
 stinctive, irrejiressible love, with which a duck is said to take to the 
 water. His first instructor was his mother; and never was there 
 a mother better calculated to awaken the mind of a child, and 
 keep it awake, than Mrs. Greeley. 
 
 Tall, muscular, well-formed, with the strength of a man without 
 his coarseness, active in her habits, not only capable of hard work, 
 but delighting in it, with a perpetual overflow of animal spirits, an 
 exhaustless store of songs, ballads and stories, and a boundless, ex- 
 uberant good will toward all living things, Mrs. Greeley was the 
 life of the house, the favt)rite of the neighborhood, tlie natural 
 friend and ally of children ; whatever she did she did " with a will.'' 
 She was a great reader, and remembered all she read. "She 
 worked," says one of my informants, " in doors and out of doors, 
 could out-rake any man in the town, and could load the hay-wag 
 ons as fast and as well as her husband. She hoed in the garden: 
 she labored in the field; and, while doing more than the work of an 
 ordinary man and an ordinary woman combined, would laugh and 
 sing all day long, and tell stories all the evening." 
 
 To these stories the boy listened greedil}', as he sat on the flooi 
 at her feet, while she .spun and talked with equal energy. They 
 " served," says Mr. Greeley, in a passage already quoted, " to awaken 
 In me a thimt &n- knowledge, and a lively interest in learning and 
 
38 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 history." Think of it, you Avord-mongcring, geninil-grinding 
 teachers wlio delight in signs und symbols, and figures and " facts," 
 and feed little children's souls on the dry, innutr'tious husks of 
 knowledge ; and think of it, you play-abhorring, fiction-forbidding 
 parents ! Awaken the interest in learning, and the thirst for knowl- 
 edge, and there is no predicting what may or what may not result 
 from it. Scarcely a man, distinguished for the supremacy or the 
 beauty of his immortal part, has written the history of his childhood 
 without recording the fact that the celestial fire was first kindled 
 in his soul by means similar to those which awakened an " interest 
 in learning" and a " thirst for knowledge" in the mind of Horace 
 Greeley. 
 
 Horace learned to read before he had learned to talk ; that is, 
 before he could pronounce the longer words. No one regularly 
 taught him. When he was little more than two years old, he began 
 to pore over the Bible, opened for his entertainment on the floor, 
 and examine with curiosity the newspaper given him to play with. 
 He cannot remember a time when he could not read, nor can any 
 one give an account of the process by which he learned, except that 
 he asked questions incessantly, first about the jjictures in the news- 
 paper, then about the capital letters, then about the smaller ones, 
 and finally about the words and sentences. At three years of age 
 he could read easily and correctly any of the books prepared for 
 children; and at four, any book whatever. But he was not satisfied 
 with overcoming the ordinary difBculties of reading. Allowing 
 that nature gives to every child a certain amount of mental force to 
 be used in acquiring the art of reading, Horace had an over- 
 plus of that force, which he employed in learning to read with his 
 book in positions which increased the difficulty of the feat. All the 
 friends and neighbors of his early childhood, in reporting him a 
 prodigy unexampled, adduce as the unanswerable and clinching 
 proof of the fact, that, at the age of four years, he could read 
 any book in whatever position it might be placed, — riglt-side up, 
 up-side down, or sidewise. 
 
 His third winter Horace spent at the house of his grandfather, 
 David Woodburn, in Londonderry, attended the district school 
 there, and distinguished himself greatly. He had no right to at- 
 tend the Londonderry school, and the people of the rural districts 
 
A DISTRICT SCHOOL FORTY YEARS AGO, 39 
 
 are apt to bo strenuous upon tlie point of not admitting to their 
 school pupils Iroin other towns ; but Horace was an engaging 
 child; "every one liked the little, white-headed fellow," says a 
 surviving member of the school coniinittee, "and bo we favored 
 him." 
 
 A district school — and what was a district school forty year? 
 ago? Horace Greeley never attended any but a district school, and 
 it concerns us to know what manner of place it was, and what 
 was its routine of exercises. * 
 
 The school-house stood in an open place, formed (usually) by the 
 crossing of roads. It was very small, and of one story ; contained 
 one apartment, had two windows on each side, a small door in the 
 gable end that faced the road, and a low door-step before it. It 
 was the thing called house, in its simplest form. But for its roof, 
 windoAvs, and door, it had been a box, large, rough, and unpainted. 
 "Within and without, it was destitute of anything ornamental. It 
 was not enclosed by a fence ; it was not shaded by a tree. The sun 
 in summer, the winds in winter, had their will of it : there was no- 
 thing to avert the fury of either. The log school-houses of the pre- 
 vious generation were picturesque and comfortable ; those of the 
 present time are as prim, neat, and orderly (and as elegant some- 
 Mmes) as the cottage of an old maid who enjoys an annuity ; but the 
 school-house of forty years ago had an aspect singularly forlorn and 
 uniTiviting. It was built for an average of thirty pupils, but it fre- 
 quently contained fifty ; and then the little school-room was a com- 
 pact mass of young humanity : the teacher had to dispense with 
 liis table, and w-as lucky if he could find room for his chair. The 
 side of the apartment opposite the door was occupied, chietly, by a 
 vast firci)lace, four or five feet wide, Avhcre a carman's load of wood 
 could burn in one prodigious fire. Along the sides of the room was 
 a low, slanting shelf, which served for a desk to those who wrote, 
 and against the sharp edge of which the elder pupils leaned when 
 they were not writing. The seats were made of "slabs," inverted, 
 supported on sticks, and without backs. The elder pupils sat along 
 the sides of the room, — the girls on one side, the boys on the other; 
 the youngest sat nearest the fire, where they were as much too 
 warm as those wlu sat near the door were too cold. In a school 
 of forty pupils, thore would bo a dozen who were grown up, mar- 
 
40 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 riageable young men and women. Not nnfrcqi.entl} married men. 
 and occasionally nuirried vi-omen, attended school in the winter. 
 Among tlie younger pupils, there were usually a dozen who could 
 not read, and half as many who did not know the alphabet. The 
 teacher was, pcrh;i|)s, one of the farmer's sons of the district, who 
 knew a little more than his elder pupils, and only a little ; or he 
 was a student who wixs working his way through college. Hig 
 wages were those of a farm-laborer, ten or twelve dollars a month 
 and his board, lie boarded "roM/wZ," i.e. he lived a few days at 
 each of the houses of the district, stopping longest at the most 
 agreeable place. The grand qualification of a teacher was the abil- 
 ity "to do" any sum in the arithmetic. To know arithmetic was to 
 be a learned man. Generally, the teacher was very young, some- 
 times not more than sixteen years old ; but, if he possessed the due 
 expertness at figures, if he could read the Bible without stumbling 
 over the long words, and without mispronouncing more than two 
 thirds of the i)roper names, if he could write well enough to set a 
 decent copy, if he could mend a pen, if he had vigor enough of 
 character to assert his authority, and strength enough of arm to 
 maintain it, he would do. The school began at nine in the morn- 
 ing, and the arrival of that hour was announced by the teacher's 
 rapping upon the window frame with a ruler. The boys, and the 
 girls too, came tumbling in, rosy and glowing, from their snow- 
 balling and sledding. The first thing done in school was reading. 
 The "first class," consisting of that third of the pupils who could 
 read best, stood on the floor and read round once, each individual 
 reading about half a |)age of the English Reader. Then the second 
 class. Then the third. Last of all, the youngest children said their 
 letters. By that time, a third of the morning was over; and then 
 the reading began again ; for public opinion demanded of the teach- 
 er that he should hear every pupil read four times a day, tv/ice in 
 the morning and twice in the afternoon. Those who were not in 
 the class reading, were employed, or were supposed to be employed, 
 in ciphering or writitig. When they wanted to write, they went to 
 the teacher witii their writing-book and pen, and he set a copy, — 
 " Procrastination is the thief of time," " Contentment is a virtue," 
 or some other wise saw, — and mended the pen. When they were 
 puzzled with a "sum," they went to the teacher to have it elucidat- 
 
THE SrELLIXG SCHOOL. 41 
 
 ed. They seurn to have written and ciphered as much or as little 
 as they chose, at what time they chose, and in what manner. It 
 some schools there were classes in arithmetic and regular instruc- 
 tion m writing, and one class in grammar; but auch schools, forty 
 years ago, were rare. The exercises of the morning were concluded 
 with a geuf lid upell^ the teacher giving out the words from a spell- 
 ing-book, .-ind the pupils spelling them at the top of their voices. 
 At noon tin- scIiodI was dismissed ; at one it was summoned again, 
 to go thr<)uj;ii, fur the next three hours, precisely the same routine 
 as that of tlie morning. In this rude way the last generation of 
 children learned to read, write, and cipher. But they learned 
 soraetliiiig more in those rude cohool-houses. They ^earned obedi- 
 ence. They were tamed and disciijlined. The means employed 
 were extremely unscientific, but the tiling was done! The means, 
 in fact, were merely a ruler, and what was called, in contradistinc- 
 tion to that milder weapon, " the heavy gad ;" by which express- 
 ion was designated five feet of elastic sapling of one year's growth. 
 These two implements were plied vigorously and often. Girls got 
 their full siiare of them. Girls old enough to be wives were no 
 more exempt tlian the young men old enough to marry them, who 
 sat on the other side of the schoolroom. It was thought, that if a 
 youth of either sex was not too old to do wrong, neither he nor she 
 was too old to suffer the consequences. In some districts, a teacher 
 was valued in |)roportion to his severity ; and if he were backward 
 in applying tlie ferule and the " gad," the parents soon began to be 
 uneasy. They thought he had no energy, and inferred that the 
 children could not be learning nmch. In the district schools, then, 
 of forty years ago, all the pupils learned to read and to obey ; most 
 of them learned to write ; many acquired a competent knowledge 
 of figures; a few learned the rudiments of gramnuxr; and if any 
 learned more than these, it was generally due to their unassisted 
 and unencouraged exertions. There were no school-libraries at that 
 time. The teachers usually possessed little general information, and 
 the little they did possess was not often made to contribute to the 
 mental nouri-hnient of their pupils. 
 
 On one of the first benches of the Londonderry school-house, neat 
 the fire, we may imagine the little white-headed fellow, whom every 
 body liked, to be seated during the winters of 1813-14 and '14-'15. lie 
 
42 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 was eager to go to scliool. When the snow lay on the ground in 
 drifts too deep for him to wade through, one of his aunts, wlio still 
 lives to tell the story, would take him up on her shoulders and 
 carry hiin to the door. He was the possessor that winter, of three 
 books, the " Columbian Orator," Morse's Geography, and a spell- 
 ing book. From tlie Columbian Orator, he learned many pieces by 
 heart, and among others, that very celebrated oration which prob- 
 ably the majority of the inhabitants of this nation have at some pe- 
 riod of their lives been able to repeat, beginning, 
 
 " You 'd scarce expect one of my age 
 To speak in public on the stage." 
 
 One of his schoolfellows has a vivid remembrance of Horace's re- 
 citing this piece before the whole school in Londonderry, before he 
 was old enough to utter the words plainly. He had a lisping, 
 whining little voice, says my informant, but spoke with the utmost 
 confidence, and greatly to the amusement of the school. He spoke 
 the piece so often in public and private, as to become, as it were, 
 identified with it, as a man who knows one song suggests that 
 song by his presence, and is called upon to sing it wherever he 
 goes. 
 
 It is a pity that no one thinks of the vast importance of those 
 " Orators " and reading books which the children read and wear 
 out in reading, learning parts of them by heart, and repeating 
 them over and over, till they become fixed in the memory and 
 embedded in the character forever. And it is a pity that those 
 books should contain so much false sentiment, inflated language, 
 Buncombe oratory, and other trash, as they generally do ! To 
 compile a series of Reading Books for the common schools of 
 this country, were a task for a conclave of the wisest and best men 
 and women that ever lived ; a task worthy of them, both from its 
 diflSculty and the incalculable extent of its possible results. 
 
 Spelling Avas the passion of the little orator during the first win- 
 ters of his attendance at school. He spelt incessantly in school and 
 out of school. He would lie on the floor at his grandfather's house, 
 for hours at a time, spelling hard words, all that he could find m 
 the Bible and the few other books within his reach. It was the 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF HIS SURVIVING SCHOOLFELLOWS. 43 
 
 Standing aimiseineiit of the family to try and puzzle tlie boy witli 
 words, and no one remembers succeeding. Spelling, moreover, 
 was one of tlie great points of the district schools in those days, 
 and he who could out-spell, or, as the phrase was, " spell down " 
 the whole school, ranked second only to him who surpassed the 
 rest in arithmetic. Those were the palmy days of the spelling- 
 school. The pupils assembled once a week, voluntarily, at the 
 school-house, chose " sides," and contended with one another long 
 and earnestly for the victory. Horace, young as he was, was eager 
 to attend the spelling school, and was never known to injure tiie 
 "side" on which he was chosen by missing a word, and it soon 
 became a prime object at the spelling-school to get the first choice, 
 because that enabled the lucky side to secure the powerful aid of 
 Horace Greeley. He is well remembered by his companions in or- 
 thography. They delight still to tell of the little fellow, in the 
 long evenings, falling asleep in his place, and when it came liis 
 turn, his neighbors gave him an anxious nudge, and ho would wake 
 instantly, spell off his word, and drop asleep again in a moment. 
 
 Horace went to school three terms in Londonderry, spending 
 part of each year at home. I will state as nearly as possible in 
 their own words, what his school-fellows there remember of him. 
 
 One of them can just recall him as a very small boy with ahead as 
 Avhite as snow, who "was almost always up head in his class, and took 
 it so much to heart when he did happen to lose his place, that he 
 would cry bitterly ; so that some boys when they had gained the right 
 to get above him, declined the honor, because it hurt Horace's 
 feelings so." He was the pet of the school. Those whom ho used 
 to excel most signally liked him as well as the rest. He was an 
 active, bright, eager boy, but not fond of play, and seldom took 
 part in the sports of the other boys. One muster day, this inform- 
 ant remembers, the clergyman of Londonderry, who had heard 
 glowing accounts of Horace's feats at school, took him on liis lap in 
 the field, questioned him a long time, tried to puzzle him with hard 
 words, and concluded by saying with strong emphasis to one of the 
 boy's relatives, " Mark my words, Mr. Woodburn, that boy was not 
 made for nothing." 
 
 Another, besides confirming the above, adds that Horace was 
 in some respects exceedingly brave, and in others exceedingly tiin 
 
44 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 orous. Tie was never afraid of tlie dark, could not be frightened 
 by ghost-stories, never was abashed in speaking or reciting, was 
 not to be overawed by supposed superiority of knowledge or rank, 
 would talk up to the teacher and question his decision with perfect 
 freedom, tliough never in a spirit of impertinence. Yet he could 
 not stand up to a boy and figlit. When attacked, he would nei- 
 ther fight nor run away, but " stand still and take it." His ear 
 was so delicately constructed that any loud noise, like the report of 
 a gun, would almost throw him into convulsions. If a gun were 
 about to be discharged, he would either run away as fast as his 
 legs could carry him, or else would throw himself upon the 
 ground and stuff grass into his ears to deaden the dreadful noise. 
 On the fourth of July, wlien tlie people of Londonderry inflamed 
 their patriotism by a copious consum])tion of gunpowder, Horace 
 would run into tlie woods to get beyond the sound of the cannons 
 and pistols. It was at Londondei'ry, and about his fourth yenr, that 
 Horace began the habit of reading or book-devouring, which ho 
 never lost during all the years of his boyhood, youth, and appren- 
 ticeship, and relinquished only when he entered that most exacting 
 of all professions, the editorial. The gentleman whose reminis- 
 cences I am now recording, tells me that Horace in his fifth and 
 sixth years, would lie under a tree on his face, reading hour after 
 hour, completely absorbed in his book ; and " if no one stumbled 
 over him or stirred him up," would read on, unmindful of dinnei 
 time and sun-set, as long as he could see. It was his delight ii 
 books that made him, when little more than an infant, determini 
 to be a printer, as printers, he supposed, were they who made books 
 " One day," says this gentleman, " Horace and I went to a black 
 emith's shop, and Horace watched the ])rocess of liorse-shoeing with 
 mucli interest. The blacksmith, observing how intently he lookeQ 
 on, said, ' You 'd better come with me and learn the trade.' ' No,"" 
 said Horace in his prompt, decided way, ' I 'm going to be a printer.' 
 He was then six years old, and very small for his age; and this pos- 
 itive choice of a career by so diminutive a piece of humanity 
 mightily amused the by-standers. The blacksmith used to tell the 
 story with great glee when Horace was a printer, and one of some 
 note." 
 Another gentleman, who went to school with Horace at London- 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF HIS SUKVIVINQ SCUOOLFELLOWS. 45 
 
 derry, writes : — " I think I attended scliool wifcli Horace Greeley 
 two summers and two winters, but have no recollection of seeing 
 Lim except at the scliool-house. lie was an exceedingly mild, quiet 
 and inoftensive child, entirely devoted to his books at school. It 
 used to be said in the neighborliood, that lie was the same out of 
 scliool, and that liis parents were obliged to secrete his books to 
 prevent his injuring himself by over study. His devotion to his 
 books, together with the fact of his great advancement beyond 
 others of his age in the few studies then pursued in tlie district 
 school, rendered him notorious in that part of the town. He was 
 regarded as a prodigy, and his name was a household world. He 
 was looked upon as standing alone, and entirely unapproachable by 
 any of the little mortals around him. lieading, parsing, and spelling 
 are the only branches of learning which I remember hr.n in, or in 
 connection with which his name was at that time mentioned, 
 though he might have given some attention to writing and arith- 
 metic, which completed the circle of studies in the districo school at 
 that time; but in the three branches first named he excelled all, even 
 in the winter school, which was attended by several young men and 
 women, some of whom became teachers soon after. Though 
 mild and quiet, he was ambitious in the school ; to be at tlio head 
 of his class, and be accounted the best scholar in school, seemed 
 to be prominent objects with him, and to furnish strong motives to 
 effort. I can recall but one instance of his missing a word in th<j 
 spelling class. The classes went on to the floor to spell, and he al 
 most invariably stood at the head of the 'first class,' embracing 
 the most advanced sciiolars. He stood there at the time referred 
 to, and by missing a word, lost his place, which so grieved him that 
 he wept like a punished child. While I knew liim he did not en- 
 gage Avith other children in the usual recreations uid amuse- 
 meHts of the school grounds ; as soon as the school was dismissed at 
 noon, he would start for liome, a distance of half a mile, with all 
 his books u^der his arm, including the New Testament, Webster's 
 Spelling Book, English Reader, &c., and would not return till the 
 last moment of intermission ; at least such was his practice in tho 
 summer time. With regard to his aptness in spelling, it used to be 
 said that tho minister of the town. Rev. Mr. McGregor, once at- 
 tempted to find a w .-d or name in the Bible which he could not 
 
46 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 spell correctly, bat l^.■lled to do so. I always supposed, however, 
 that this was an exaggeration, for he could not have been more than 
 seven years old at the time this was told. My father soon after re- 
 moved to another town thirty miles distant, and I lost sight of the 
 family entirely, Horace and all, though I always remembered the 
 gentle, flaxen-haired schoolmate with much interest, and often won- 
 dered what became of him ; and when the ' Log Cabin ' appeared, 
 I took much pains to assure myself whether this Horace Greeley 
 was the same little Horace grown up, and found it was." 
 
 From his sixth year, Horace resided chiefly at his father's house. 
 He was now old enough to walk to the nearest school-house, a mile 
 and a half from his home. He could read fluently, spell any word 
 in the language ; had some knowledge of geography, and a little of 
 arithmetic ; had read the Bible through from Genesis to Revela- 
 tions ; had read the Pilgrim's Progress with intense interest, and 
 dipped into every other book he could lay his hands on. From his 
 sixtli to his tenth year, he lived, worked, read and went to school, 
 in Audierst and the adjoining town of Bedford. Those who were 
 then his neighbors and schoolmates there, have a lively recollection 
 of the boy and his ways. 
 
 Henceforth, he went to school only in the winter. Again he at- 
 tended a school which he had no right to attend, that of Bedford, 
 and his attendance was not merely permitted, but sought. The 
 school-committee expressly voted, that no pupils from other townc 
 should be received at their school, except Horace Greeley alone; 
 and, on entering the school, he took his place, young as' he was, at 
 the head of it, as it were, by acclamation. Nor did his superiority 
 ever excite envy .or enmity. He bore his honors meekly. Every 
 one liked the boy, and took pride in his superiority to themselves. 
 All his schoolmates agree in this, that Horace never had an ene- 
 my at school. 
 
 The snow lies deep on those New Hampshire hills in the winter, 
 and presents a serious obstacle to the younger children in their way 
 to the school-house ; nor is it the rarest of disasters, even now, for 
 children to be lost in a drift, and frozen to death. (Such a calam- 
 ity happened two years ago, within a mile or two ot the old Gree 
 ley homestead.) " Many a morning," says one of the neighbors — 
 Uien a stout schoolboy, now a sturdy farmer — "many a morning T 
 
HIS EARLY FONDNESS FOR THE VILLAGE NEWSPAPER. 47 
 
 have carried Horace on my back tlirough tlio drifts to scliowl, and 
 put my own mittens over his, to keep his little hands from freez- 
 ing." He adds, " I lived at the next house, and I and my brothers 
 often went down in the evening to play with him ; but he never 
 would play with us till he liad got his lessons. "We could neither 
 coax nor force him to." He remembers Horace as a boy of a bright 
 and active nature, but neither playful nor meiTy ; one who would 
 utter acute and " old-fashioned" remarks, and make more fun for 
 others than he seemed to enjoy himself. 
 
 His fondness for reading grew with the growth of his mind, til] 
 it amounted to a passion. His father's stock of books was small 
 indeed. It consisted of a Bible, a " Confession of Faith," and per- 
 haps all told, twenty volumes beside; and they by no means of a 
 kind calculated to foster a love of reading in the mind of a lit tie 
 boy. ]?ut & weekly neicspaper cii\\\Q to the house from the village 
 of Amherst ; and, except his mother's tales, that newspaper proba- 
 bly had more to do with the opening of the boy's mind and the 
 tendency of his opinions, than anything else. Tlie family well re- 
 member the eagerness with which he anticipated its coming. Pa- 
 per-day was the brightest of the week. An hour before the post- 
 rider was expected, Horace would walk down the road to meet 
 him, bent on having the first read ; and when he had got possession 
 of the precious sheet, he would hurry with it to some secluded 
 place, lie down on the grass, and greedily devour its contents. The 
 paper was called (and is still) the Farmer's Cabinet. It was mildly 
 Whig in politics. Tlie selections were religious, agricultural, and 
 miscellaneous ; the editorials few, brief, and amiable ; its summary 
 of news scanty in the extreme. But it was the only bearer of tid- 
 ings from the Great "World. It connected the little brown house on 
 the rocky hill of Amherst with the general life of mankind. The 
 boy, before he could read himself, and before he could understand 
 the meaning of war and bloodshed, doubtless heard his father read 
 in it of tlie triumphs and disasters of the Second "War with Great 
 Britain, and of the rejoicings at the conclusion of peace. He him- 
 self may have read of Decatur's gallantry in the war with Algiers, 
 of "Wellington's victory at "Waterloo, of Napoleon's fretting away 
 his life on the rock of St. Helena, of Monroe's inauguration, of the 
 dismantling of the fleets on the great l^kes, of the progiess of the 
 
48 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 Erie Canal project, of Jackson's inroads into Florida, and the subse' 
 quent cession of that province to the United States, of the first 
 meeting of Congress in the Capitol, of the passage of the Missouri 
 Compromise. During the progress of the various coininerciiil trea- 
 ties with the States of Europe, vrhich were negotiated after the 
 conclusion of the general peace, the whole theory, practice, and his- 
 tory of commercial intercourse, were amply discussed in Congress 
 anl the newspapers ; and the mind of Horace, even in his ninth 
 year, v?as mature enough to take some interest in the subject, and 
 derive some impressions from its discussion. The Farmer''s Cabinet^ 
 which brought all these and countless othei ideas and events to 
 bear on the education of the boy, is now one of the thousand pa- 
 pers with which the Tribune exchanges. 
 
 Horace scoured the country for books. Books were books in that 
 remote and secluded region ; and when he had exhausted ,the col- 
 lections of the neighbors, he carried the search into the neighbor- 
 ing towns. I am assured that there was not one readable book 
 within seven miles of his fatlier's house, which Horace did not bor- 
 row and read during his residence in Amherst. He was never 
 without a book. As soon, says one of his sisters, as he was dressed 
 in the morning, he flew to his book. He read every minute of the 
 day which he could snatch from his studies at school, and on the 
 farm. He would be so absorbed in his reading, that when his pa- 
 rents required his services, it was like rousing a heavy sleeper from 
 his deepest sleep, to awaken Horace to a sense of things around 
 him and an apprehension of the duty required of him. And even 
 then he clung to his book. He would go reading to the cellar and 
 the cider-barrel, reading to the wood-pile, reading to the garden, 
 reading to the neighbors; and pocketing his book only long enough 
 to perform his errand, he would fall to reading again the instant his 
 mind and his hands were at liberty. 
 
 He kept in a secure place an ample supply of pine knots, and as 
 soon as it was dark he would light one of these cheap and brilliant 
 illuminators, put it on the back-log in the spacious fire-place, pile 
 up his school books and his reading books on the floor, lie down on 
 his back on tlie hearth, with his head to the fire and his feet coiled 
 away out of the reach of stumblers; and there he would lie and 
 read all through the long Avinter evenings, silent, motionless, dead 
 
SCOURS THE COUNTKY FOR BOOKS. 49 
 
 to the world around liim, alive only to the world to which he was 
 transported by his book. Visitors would come in, chat a while, 
 and go away, without knowing he was present, and without his 
 being aware of their coining and going. It was a nightly struggle 
 to get him to bed. His fjither required his services early in the 
 morning, and was therefore desirous that he shcmld go to bed early 
 in the evening. lie feared, also, for the eye-sight of the boy, read- 
 ing eo many hours with his head in the fire and by the flaring, flicker- 
 ing light of a pine knot. And so, by nine o'clock, his father would 
 tegin the task of recalling the absent mind from its roving, and 
 rousing the prostrate and dormant body. And when Horace at 
 length had been forced to beat a retreat, he kept his younger 
 brother awake by telling over to him in bed what he had read, and 
 by reciting the school lessons of the next day. His brother was by 
 no means of a literary turn, and was prone — much to the chagrin 
 of Horace — to fall asleep long before the lessons were all said and 
 the tales all told. 
 
 So entire and passionate a devotion to the acquisition of knowl- 
 edge in one so young, would be remarkable in any circumstances. 
 But when the situation of the boy is considered — living in a remote 
 and eery rural district — few books accessible — few literary i)erson9 re- 
 siding near — the school contributing scarcely anything to his mental 
 nourishment — no other boy in the neighborhood manifesting any 
 particular interest in learning — the people about him all engaged in 
 a rude and hard struggle to extract the means of subsistence from 
 a rough and rocky soil — such an intense, absorbing, and persistent 
 love of knowledge as that exhibited by Horace Greeley, mtist be 
 accounted very extraordinary. 
 
 That his neighbors so accounted it, they are still eager to attest. 
 Continually the wonder grew, that one small head should carry all 
 he knew. 
 
 There were not wanting those who thought that superior means 
 of instruction ought to be placed within the reach of so superior 
 a child. I have a somewhat vague, but very positive, and fully con- 
 firmed story, of a young man just returned from college to his 
 father's house in Bedford, who fell in with Horace, and was so 
 struck with his capacity and attainments that he offered to send 
 him to an academy in a neighboring town, and bear all the ex- 
 
 3 
 
50 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 penses of his maiiitcnanco and tuition. But liis mother couhl not 
 let him go, his fiither needed his assistance at liome, and the hoy 
 himself is said not to have fixvored tlie sclieme. A wise, a fortunate 
 choice, I canQot helj) believing. That academ}- may have heen an 
 institutiou where hoys received more good than harm — where real 
 hiowledge was imparted — where souls were inspired with the love 
 of high and good things, and inflamed with an ambition to run a 
 high and good career — where boys did not lose all their modesty 
 and lialf their sense — where chests were expanded — where 
 cheeks were ruddy — where limbs were active — where stomachs 
 were peptic. It may have heen. But if it was, it was a different 
 academy from many whose praises are in all the newsjjapers. It 
 was better not to run the risk. If that young man's offe*" had been 
 accepted, it is a question whether the world would have ever heard 
 of Horace Greeley. Probably his fragile body would not have sus- 
 tained the brain-stimulating treatment which a forward and eager 
 boy generally receives at an academy. 
 
 A better friend, though not a better meaning one, was a jovial 
 neighbor, a sea-captain, who had taken to farming. The captain 
 had seen the world, possessed the yarn-spinning faculty, and be- 
 sides being himself a walking traveler's library, had a considerable 
 collection of books, which he freely lent to Horace. His salute, on 
 meeting the boy, was not ' How do you do, Horace ?' but ' Well, 
 Horace, what's the capital of Turkey ?' or, ' Who fought the battle 
 of Eutaw Springs V or, ' How do you spell Encyclopedia, or Kamt- 
 scbaika, or Nebuchadnezzar V The old gentleman used to question 
 the boy upon the contents of the books he had lent him, and wa.s 
 again and again surprised at the fluency, the accuracy, and the full- 
 ness of his replies. The captain was of service to Horace in vari- 
 ous ways, and he is I'emembered by the family with gratitude. To 
 Horace's brother he once gave a sheep and a load of hay to keep it 
 on during the winter, thus adapting his benefactions to the various 
 tastes of his juvenile friends. 
 
 A clergyman, too, is spoken of, who took great interest in Horace, 
 and gave him instruction in grammar, often giving the boy er- 
 roneous information to test his knowledge. Horace, he used to 
 say. could never be shaken on a point which he had once clearly 
 understood, but would stand to his opinion, and defend it against 
 anybody and everybody — teacher, pastor, or public opinion. 
 
HIS WAT OF FISHING. 5\ 
 
 In New England, tlie sons of fiinners begin to m.ike tlieinsclvca 
 useful jvlraost as soon as they can walk. They feed the chickens, 
 they drive the cows, they bring in wood and water, and soon corao 
 to perform all those offices which come under the denomination of 
 " c7i07V's." By the time they are eight or nine years old, they fre- 
 quently have tasks assigned them, which are called " stints," and 
 not till they have done their stint arc they at liberty to i)lay. 
 The reader may think that Horace's devotion to literature would 
 naturally enough render the farm work distasteful to him; ar'^ if 
 he had gone to the academy, it might. I am bound, however, to 
 say that all who knew him in boyhood, agree that he was not more 
 devoted to study in his leisure hours, than he was faithful and assid- 
 uous in performing his duty to his father during the hours of work. 
 Faithful is the word. He could be trvsted any where, and to do 
 anything witiiin the compass of his strength and years. It was 
 hard, sometimes, to rouse him from his books ; but when he had 
 been roused, and was entrusted with an errand or a i)iece of work, 
 he would set about it vigorously, and lose no time till it was done. 
 " Come," his brother would say sometimes, when the father had 
 set the boys a task and had gone from home ; " come. Hod, let's go 
 fishing." "No," Horace would reply, in his whining voice, " let 
 us do our stint first." " He was always in school, though," says his 
 brother, " and as we hoed down the rows, or chopped at the wood- 
 pile, he was perpetually talking about his lessons, asking questions, 
 and narrating what he had read." 
 
 Fishing, it appears, was the only sport in which Horace took 
 much pleasure, during the first ten years of his life. But his love 
 of fishing did not originate in what the Germans call the "sport 
 impulse." Other boys fislied for sport; Horace fished for ^sA. He 
 fished industriously^ keeping his eyes unceasingly on the float, and 
 never distracting his own attention, or that of the fish, by convers- 
 ing with his companions. The consequenofc was that ho would 
 often catch more than all the rest of the party put together. Shool 
 ing was the favorite amusement of the boys of the neighborhood, 
 but Horace could rarely be persuaded to take part in it. Wlien 
 he did accompany a shooting-party, he would never carry or dis- 
 charge a gun, and when the game was found he would lie down 
 and stop his ears till the murder had been done. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HIS FATHER RUINED — REMOVAL TO VERMONT. 
 
 New Hampshire before the era of manufactures— Causes of his father's failure- -Rum 
 m the olden time — An execution in the house — Flight of the father — Horace and 
 the Rum Jug — Compromise with the creditors — Removal to another farm — Fi- 
 nal ruin— Removal to Vermont — The winter journey — Poverty of the family — 
 Scene at their new home — Cheerfulness in misfortune. 
 
 But while thus Horace was growing up to meet his destiny, 
 pressing forward on the rural road to learning, and secreting char- 
 acter in that secluded home, a cloud, undiscerned by him, had come 
 over his father's prospects. It began to gather wlien the boy was 
 little more than six years old. In his seventh year it broke, and 
 drove the family, for a time, from house and land. In his tenth, it 
 had completed its work — his father was a ruined man, an exile, a 
 fugitive from his native State. 
 
 In those days, before the great manufacturing towns which now 
 afford the farmer a market for his produce had sprung into exist- 
 ence along the shores of the Merrimac, before a net-work of rail- 
 roads regulated the price of grain in the barns of New Hampshire 
 by the standard of Mark Lane, a farmer of New Hampshire was 
 not, in his best estate, very far from ruin. Some articles which 
 forty years ago were quite destitute of pecuniary value, now afford 
 an ample profit. Fire-wood, for example, when Horace Greeley 
 was a boy, could seldom be sold at any price. It was usually 
 burned up on the land on which itgrcAV, as a worthless incumbrance. 
 Fire-wood now, in the city of Manchester, sells for six dollars a 
 cord, and at any point within ten miles of Manchester for four dol- 
 lars. Forty years ago, farmers had little surplus produce, and that 
 little had to be carried far, and it brought little money home. In 
 short, before the manufacturing system was introduced into New 
 Hampshire, affording employment to her daughters in the factory, 
 to her sons on the land, New Hampshire was a poverty-stricken 
 State. 
 
CAUSES OF niS FATHER'S FAILURE. 53f 
 
 It is one of the wonders of party infatuation, that the two States 
 which if tliey have not gained most, have certainly most to gaia 
 from the " American system," sliould have always heen, and ehould 
 still be its most rooted opponents. But man the partisan, like mau 
 the sectarian, is, always was, and will ever be, a poor creature. 
 
 The way to thrive in New Hampshire was to work very hard^ 
 keep the store-bill small, stick to the farm, and be no man's security. 
 Of these four things, Horace's fother did only one — he worked hard. 
 He was a good workman, methodical, skillful, and persevering. 
 But he speculated in lumber, and lost money by it. He was ' bound,' 
 as they say in the country, for another man, and had to i)ay the 
 money which that other man failed to pay. Ho had a free and 
 generous nature, lived well, treated the men whom he employed 
 liberally, and in various ways swelled his account with tlie store- 
 keeper. 
 
 Those, too, were the jolly, bad days, when everybody drank 
 strong drinks, and no one supposed that the affairs of life could pos- 
 sibly be transacted without its agency, any more tlian a machine 
 conld go without the lubricating oil. A field could not be ' logged,' 
 hay could not be got in, a harvest could not be gathered, unless tho 
 jug of liquor stood by the spring, and unless the spring was visited 
 many times in the day by all hands. No visitor could be sent un- 
 moistened away. No holiday could bo celebrated without driuking- 
 booths. At weddings, at christenings, at funerals, rum seemed to 
 be the inducement that brought, and the tie that bound, the com- 
 pany together. It was rum that cemented friendship, and rum that 
 clinched bargains; rum that kept out the cold of winter, and rura 
 that moderated the sununer's heat. Men drank it, women drank 
 it, children drank it. There were families in which the first duty 
 of every morning was to serve around to all its members, even to 
 the youngest child, a certain portion of alcoholic liquor. Rum had 
 to be bought with monej', and money was hard to get in New 
 Hampshire. Zaccheus Greeley was not the man to stint his work- 
 men. At his house and on his farm the jug was never empty. In 
 his cellar the cider never was out. And so, by losses which he 
 could not help, by practices which had not yet been discovered to 
 be unnecessary, his affairs became disordered, and he began i«> 
 descend the easy steep that leads to the abyss of bankruptcy- He 
 
54 HIS FATHER RUINED. REMOVAL TO VERMONT. 
 
 arrived — liugereil a few j-ears ou the edge — was pushed in — and 
 scrambled out on the other side. 
 
 It was on a Monday morning. There had been a long, fierce 
 rain, and the clouds still hung heavy and dark over the hills. 
 Horace, then only nine years old, on coming down stairs in the 
 morning, saw several men about the house ; neighbors, some of 
 thetn ; others were strangers ; others he had seen in the village. 
 He was too young to know the nature of an Execution., and by what 
 right the sheriff and a party of men laid hands upon his father's 
 property. His father had walked quietly off into the woods ; for, 
 at that period, a man's person was not exempt from seizure. Horace 
 had a vague idea that the men had come to rob them of all they 
 possessed ; and wild stories are afloat in the neigliborhood, of the 
 boy's conduct on the occasion. Some say, that he seized a hatchet, 
 ran to the neighboring field, and began furiously to cut down a fa- 
 vorite pear-tree, saying, " They shall not have that., anyhow." Rut, 
 his mother called him off, and the pear-tree still stands. Another 
 story is, that he went to one of his mother's closets, and taking as 
 many of her dresses as he could grasp in his arms, ran away with 
 tbera into the woods, hid them behind a rock, and then came back 
 to the house for more. Others assert, that the article carried off 
 by the indignant boy was not dresses, but a gallon of rum. But 
 whatever the boy did, or left undone, the reader may imagine that 
 it was to all the family a day of confusion, anguish, and horror. 
 Both of Horace's parents were persons of incorruptible honesty; 
 they had striven hard to place such a calamity as this far from their 
 house; they had never experienced themselves, nor witnessed at 
 their earlier homes, a similar scene ; the blow was unexpected ; and 
 mingled with their sense of shame at being publicly degraded, was 
 a feeling of honest rage at the supposed injustice of so summary a 
 proceeding. It was a dark day ; but it passed, as the darkest day 
 wiU. 
 
 An " arrangement" was made with the creditors. Mr. Greeley 
 gave up his own farm, temporarily, and removed to another in the 
 adjoining town of Bedford, which he cultivated on shares, and de- 
 voted principally to the raising of hops. Misfortune still i)ursued 
 liini. His two years' experience of hop-growing was not satisfac- 
 tory. The hop-market was depressed. His own farm in Amherst 
 
BEGINNING THE WORLD ANEW. 5C 
 
 was either ill inunagcil or else the seasons were unfavorable. lie 
 gave up the hop-farm, poorer than ever. Ho removed hack to liis 
 old home in Amherst. A little hga] maneuvering or rascality on 
 the part of a creditor, gave the finishing hloAV to his fortunes ; and, 
 in the winter of 1821, he gave up the effort to recover himself, be- 
 came a bankrupt, was sold out of house, land, and liousehold goods 
 by the sherilF, and fled from tlie State to avoid arrest, leaving his 
 family beiiind. Horace was nearly ten years old. Some of the 
 debts then left unpaid, he discharged in part thirty years after. 
 
 Mr. Greeley had to begin the world anew, and the world was all 
 before him, where to choose, excepting only tliat portion of it which 
 is included within the boundaries of New Hampshire. He made his 
 way, after some wandering, to the town of Westhavcn, in Rutland 
 county, Vermont, about a hundred and twenty miles northwest of 
 his former residence. There ho found a large landed proprietor, 
 who had made one fortune in Boston us a merchant, and married 
 another in Westhavcn, the latter consi.stipg of an extensive tract 
 of land. He had now retired from business, had set up for a coun- 
 try gentleman, was clearing his lands, and when they were cleared 
 he rented them out in farms. This attempt to " found an estate," 
 in the European style, signally failed. 'J'ho " mansion house" haa 
 been disseminated over the neighborhood, one wing here, another 
 wing there ; the " lawn" is untrimmed ; the attempt at a ])ai'k-gate 
 Las lost enough of the paint that made it tawdry once, to look 
 Bhabby now. But this gentleman was useful to Zacchens Greeley 
 in the day of his poverty. Ho gave him work, rented liim a small 
 hoiise nearly opposite the park-gate just mentioned, and thus en- 
 abled him in a few weeks to transport his family to a new home. 
 
 It was in the depth of winter when they made the journey. The 
 teamster that drove them still lives to tell how ' old Zac Greeley 
 came to him, and wanted he should take his sleigh and horses, and 
 go over with him to New Hampshire State, and bring his family 
 back ;' and how, when they had got a few miles on the way, ho said 
 to Zac, said he, that he (Zac) was a stranger to him, and he did n't 
 feel like going so far without enough to secure him ; and so Zac 
 gave him enough to secure him, and away they drove to New 
 Hampshire State. One sleigh was suilicieiit to convey all the little 
 property the law had left the family, and the load could not have 
 
56 HIS FATIUCR lUlNKD. REMOVAL TO VERMONT. 
 
 boon 11 lioiit'v o\\i\ for tlio dlstiuico wus nccomplisliod in ii littlo loss 
 than tliroo (lays. Tiio sloighiiij?, however, wms f^ood, ami the Oon- 
 iieetimit. river was crossed on the ico. The teamster reiiuMiihera 
 well the iiitelli;x<''iliWhito-headed hoy who was so pressini; with his 
 questions, as they rode aloti^ over the snow, and who soon exhaust- 
 ed the man's knowled.!j;e of the geography ot" the region in which 
 he had lived all his days, "lie asked me," says he, "a great deo. 
 ahoulLake Ohamplain, and how far it was from Plattshnrgh to this, 
 
 that, and t'other place; hut, Lord I he told mo a d d sight more 
 
 than I eould tell /;/w." The jiassengers in the sleigh were llornco, 
 his parents, his lirotiu'r, and two sisters, and all arrived safely at the 
 little house in Westhaven, — safely, but very, very jxxn-. They pos- 
 sessed the clothes they wore on their Journey, a bed or two, a low 
 — very few — domestic utensils, an antique chest, and one or two 
 other small relics of their former state; and they possessed nothing 
 more. 
 
 A lady, who was then a little girl, and, as little girls in the coun- 
 try will, used to run in and out of the neighbors' houses at all liours 
 without ceremony, tells me that, many times, during that winter, 
 she saw the newly-arrived family taking sustenance in the follow- 
 ing manner : — A five-quart inilk-])an tilled with bean porridge- -fln 
 hereditary dish among the Scotch-Irish — was i>laced ujion the floor, 
 the children clustering around it. Each child was i)rovided with ft 
 spoon, and dipped into the i)orridge, the spoon going directly from 
 tlie common dish to the particular mouth, without an intermediate 
 landing upon a plate, the meal consisting of jHirridgo, and ])orridgo 
 only. The parents sat at a table, and enjoyed the dignity of a sep- 
 arato dish. This was u homely way of dining; but, adds my kind 
 informant, '' they seemed so happy over their meal, that many a 
 time, as 1 looked upon the group, 1 wished our mother would let vs 
 eat iu that way — it Boeniod so much better than sitting at a table 
 and using knives, and forks, and [dates." There was no repining in 
 the family over their altered circumstances, nor any attempt to con- 
 ceal the scantiness of their furniture. To what the world calls "ap- 
 pearances" they seemed coii^titutionaUy insensible. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 AT westhave:?^, vekmont. 
 
 Description of the country— Cleariug up l,und— All the family assist i la Swiss-Fain- 
 lly-Robinsi HI— Primitive costume of Horace— His early iuUiffereiice to dress— Hll 
 nuinuer and attitude in school— A Peacemaker ainonir the boys — (lets into ascnipe, 
 and out of it- Assists his school-fellows in their studies — An evening scene at 
 home— Horace knows too much— Disconcerts his teachers by his questions — Leaves 
 school— The pine knots still blaze on the hearth— Reads incessantly— Becomes a 
 great draught player — Bet?-huutinsr — Reads at the Mansion House — Taken for an 
 Idiot— And for a possible President— Reads Mrs. Hemaus with rapture— A Wolf 
 Story — A Pedestrian Journey — Horace and the horseman — Yoking the Oxen — 
 Scene with an old Soaker — Rum in Westhaven — Horace's First Pledge — ^Narrow 
 escape t>om drowning — His religious doubts— Becomes a Universalist— Discovers 
 the humbug of " Democracy " — Impatient to begin his apprenticeship. 
 
 The family were gainers iu some important particulars, by their 
 change of residence. The laud wjis better. The settlement was 
 more recent. There was a better chance for a poor man to acquire 
 property. And what is well worth mention for its effect npou the 
 opening mind of Horace, the scenery was grander and more various. 
 That part of Rutland county is in nature's large manner. Long 
 ranges of hills, with bases not too steep for cultivation, but rising 
 into lofty, precipitous and fantastic summits, stretch away in every 
 direction. The low-lands are level and fertile. Brooks and rivers 
 come out trom among the hills, where they have been otliciating as 
 water-power, and tlow down through valleys that open and expand 
 to receive them, fertilizing the soil. Roaming among these hills, 
 the boy nmst have come frequently upon little lakes locked in on 
 every side, without apparent outlet or inlet, as smooth as a mirror, 
 as silent as the grave. Six miles from his father's house was the 
 great Lake Chainpluiu. He could not see it from his father's door, 
 but he could see the blue mist that rose from its surface every 
 morning and evening, f.ad hung over it, a cloud veiling a Mystery. 
 And be could see tlie long line of green knoll-like hills that 
 formed its opposite *hore. And he could go down on Simdays to 
 t\e shore itself^ and stand in the immediate presence of the lake, 
 
 S* 
 
58 AT WESTHAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 Nor is it a sliglit thing for a boy to see a great natural object whicli 
 he has been learning about in his school books ; nor is it an unin- 
 fluential circumstance for him to live where he can see it frequent- 
 ly. It was a superb country for a boy to grow up in, whether his 
 tendencies were industrial, or sportive, or artistic, or poetical. 
 There was rough work enough to do on the land. !Fish were 
 abundant in the lakes and streams. Game abounded in the woods. 
 "Wild grapes and wild honey were to be had for the search after 
 them. Much of the surrounding scenery is sublime, and what is 
 not sublime is beautiful. Moreover, Lake Champlain is a stage on 
 the route of northern and southern travel, and living upon its shores 
 brought the boy nearer to that world in which he was destined to 
 move, and which he had to know before he could work in it to 
 advantage. At Westhaven, Horace passed the next five years of 
 his life. He was now rather tall for his age ; his mind was far in 
 advance of it. Many of the opinions for which he has since done 
 battle, were distinctly formed during that important period of his 
 life to which the present chapter is devoted. 
 
 At Westhaven, Mr. Greeley, as they say in the country, 
 ' took jobs ;' and the jobs which he took were of various kinds. 
 He would contract to get in a harvest, to prepare the ground 
 for a new one, to ' tend ' a saw-mill ; but his principal employ- 
 ment was clearing up land; that is, piling up and burning the trees 
 after they had been felled. After a time he kept sheep and cat- 
 tle. In most of his undertakings he prospered. By incessant labor 
 and by reducing his expenditures to the lowest possible point, he 
 saved money, slowly but continuously. 
 
 In whatever he engaged, whether it was haying, harvestmg, 
 sawing, or land-clearing, he was assisted by all his family. There 
 was little work to do at home, and after breakfast, the house was 
 left to take care of itself, and away went the family, father, mother, 
 boys, girls, and oxen, to work together. Clearing land offers an 
 excellent field for family labor, as it aftbrds work adapted to all de- 
 grees of strength. The father chopped the larger logs, and direct- 
 ed the labor of all the company. Horace drove the oxen, and 
 drove them none too well, say the neighbors, and was gradually 
 supplanted in the office of driver by his younger brother. Both 
 the boys could chop the smaller trees. Then- mother and sisters 
 
PRIMITIVE COSTUME OF HORACE. 59 
 
 ^atliered together the hglit wood into heaps. And when the 
 fveat logs had to be rolled upon one another, there was scope for 
 (he combined skill and strength of the whole party. Many happy 
 and merry days the family spent together in this employment. 
 The mother's spirit never flagged. Iler voice rose in song and 
 laughter from the tangled brush-wood in which she was often bur- 
 ied; and no word, discordant or unkind, was ever known to 
 break the perfect harmony, to interru})t the perfect good humor 
 that prevailed in the family. At night, they went home to the 
 most primitive of suppers, and partook of it in the picturesque and 
 labor-saving style in which the dinner before alluded to was con- 
 sumed. The neighbors, still point out a tract of fifty acres which 
 was cleared in this sportive and Swiss-Family-Robinson-like man- 
 ner. They show the spring on the side of the road where the fam- 
 ily used to stop and drink on their way ; and they show a hem- 
 lock-tree, growing from the rocks above the spring, which used 
 to furnish the brooms, weekly renewed, which swept the little 
 house in which the little family lived. To complete the picture, 
 imagine them all clad in the same material, the coarsest kind of 
 linen or linsey-Avoolsey, home-spun, dyed with butternut bark, 
 and the different garments made in the roughest and simplest man- 
 ner by the mother. 
 
 More than three garments at the same time, Horace seldom wore in 
 the summer, and these were — a straw hat, generally in a state of 
 dilapidation, a tow-shirt, never buttoned, a pair of trousers made of 
 the family material, and having the peculiarity of being very short 
 in both legs, but shorter in one than the other. In tlie winter he 
 added a pair of shoes aut' a jacket. During the five years of his 
 life at Westhaven, probably 'is clothes did not cost three dollars a 
 year ; and, I believe, that dunu^ the whole period of his childhood, 
 up to the time when he came ot ..ge, not fifty dollars in all were 
 expended upon his dress. He never Manifested, on any occasion, in 
 any company, nor at any part of his eai'v life, the slightest interest 
 in his attire, nor the least care for its eifect upon others. That 
 amiable trait in human nature which inclines us to decoration, 
 which make us desirous to present an agreeable figure to otiiers, 
 atd to abhor peculiarity in our appearance, is a trait which Horac* 
 never gave the smallest evidence of possessing. 
 
60 XT WESTHAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 He went to school three winters in Westhaven, hut not to anj 
 great advantage. He hail ah'eady gone the round of district scliooi 
 studies, and did little more after his tenth year than walk over the 
 course, keeping lengths ahead of all competitors, with little elfortj 
 " He was always," says one of his "Westhaven schoolmates, " at 
 the top of the school, lie seldom had a teuclier that could teach 
 him anything. Once, and once only, he missed a word. His fair 
 face was crimsoned in an instant. He was terribly c»i about it, and 
 I fancied he was not himself for a week after. I see him now, as 
 he sat in class, with his slender body, his large head, his open, 
 ample forehead, his pleasant smile, and his coarse, clean, homespun 
 clothes. His attitude was always the same. He sat with his arms 
 loosely folded, his head bent forward, his legs crossed, and one foot 
 swinging. He did not seem to pay attention, but nothing escaped 
 him. He appeared to attend more from curiosity to hear what sort of 
 work we made of the lesson than from any interest he took in the 
 subject for his own sake. Once, I parsed a word egrogiously wrong, 
 and Horace Avas so taken aback by the mistake that he was startled 
 from his propriety, and exclaimed, loud enough for the class to hear 
 him, ' WJiat a fool!' The manner of it was so ludicrous that I, and 
 all the class, burst into laughter." 
 
 Another schoolmate remembers him chiefly for his gentle manner 
 and obliging disposition. " I never," she says, "knew him to fight, 
 or to be angry, or to have an enemy. He was a peacemaker among 
 us. He played with the boys sometimes, and I think was fonder 
 of snowballing than any other game. For girls, as girls, he never 
 manifested any preference. On one occasion he got into a scrape. 
 He had broken some petty rule of the school, and was required, as 
 a punishment, to inflict a certain number of blows upon auother 
 boy, who had, I think, been a participator in the offense. The in- 
 strument of flagellation was placed in Horace's hand, and he drew 
 off, as though he was going to deal a terrific blow, but it came 
 down so gently on the boy's jacket that every one saw that Horace 
 was shamming. The teacher interfered, and told him to strike 
 harder ; and a little harder he did strike, but a more harmless flog- 
 ging was never administered. He seemed not to have the power 
 any more than the will, to inflict pain." 
 
 If Horace got little good himself from his last winters at school 
 
DISCONCERTS HIS TEACHERS, 61 
 
 he was of great assistance to his schoolfellows in explaining to them 
 tlie diilicuhies of their lessons. Few evenings passed in wliich 
 some strapiiing fellow did not coine to the house with his grammar 
 or his slate, and sit demurely hy the side of Horace, while the dis- 
 tracting sum was explained, or the dark place in the parsing les- 
 son iliuiiiiriated. The hoy delighted to render such assistance. 
 However deeply he might he ahsorhed in his own studies, as soon 
 as ho saw a puzzled countenance peering in at tiie door, he knew 
 his man, knew what was wanted ; and would jump up from hii* 
 recumhent posture in the chimney-corner, and proceed, with a 
 patience that is still gratefully rememhered, with a ])erspicuity that 
 is still mentioned with admiration, to impart the information re- 
 quired of him. Fancy it. It is a pretty picture. The 'little white- 
 headed fellow ' generally so abstracted, now all intelligence and ani- 
 mation, hy the side of a great hulk of a young man, twice his age 
 and three tiines his weight, with a countenance expressing perplex- 
 ity and despair. An apt (juestion, a reminding word, a few figures 
 hastily scratched on the slate, and light Hashes on the puzzled mind. 
 He wonders he had not thought of that : he wishes Heaven had 
 given him such a ' head-i)iece.' 
 
 To some of his teachers at Westhaven, Horace was a cause of 
 great annoyance. He knew too much. He asked awkward ques- 
 tions. He was not to be put off with common-place solutions of 
 serious difficulties. He wanted things to hang together, and liked 
 to know how, if this was true, that could be true also. At length, 
 one of his teachers, when Horace was thirteen years old, had the 
 honesty atid good sense to go to his father, and say to him, point 
 bhmk, that Horace knew more than he did, and it was of no use for 
 him to go to school any more. So Horace remained at home, read 
 hard all that winter in a little room by liimself, and taught his 
 youngest sister beside. He had attended district school, altogetiier, 
 about forty-live months. 
 
 At Westhaven, the pine-knots blazed on the hearth as brightly 
 and as continuously as they had done at the old home in Amherst. 
 There was a new reason why they should ; for a candle was a lux- 
 ury now, too expensive to be indulged in. Horace's home was a 
 favorite evening resort for the children of tlie neighborhood — a fact 
 which says much for the kindly spirit of its inmates. Tliey came 
 
62 AT WESTHAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 to hear his mother's songs and stories, to play with his brother and 
 ciisters, to get assistance from himseU"; and thej' hked to he there, 
 where there was no stiffness, nor ceremony, nor discord. Horace 
 cared nothing for their noise and romping, but lie could never be 
 induced to join in an active game. When he was not assisting 
 some bewildered arithmetician, he lay in the old position, on his 
 back in the fireplace, reading, always reading. The hoys would 
 hide his book, but he would get another. They would pull him out 
 of his fiery den by the leg ; and he would crawl back, without the 
 least show of auger, but without the slightest inclination to yield 
 the point. 
 
 There was a game, however, which could sometimes tempt him 
 from his book, and of which he gradually became excessively fond. 
 It was draughts, or ' checkers.' In that game he acquired extraor- 
 dinary skill, beating everybody in the neighborhood ; and before he 
 had reached maturity, there were few draught-players in the coun- 
 try — if any — who could win two games in three of Horace Greeley. 
 His cronies at Westhaven seem to have been those who were fond 
 of draughts. In his passion for books, he was alone among liis 
 companions, who attributed his continual reading more to indolence 
 than to his acknowledged superiority of intelligence. It was often 
 predicted that, whoever else might prosper, Horace never would. 
 
 And yet, he gave proof, in very early life, that the Yankee ele- 
 ment was strong within him. In the first place, he was always dO' 
 ing something; and, in the second, he always had something to sell. 
 He saved nuts, and exchanged them at the store for the articles he 
 wished to purchase. He would hack away, hours at a time, at a 
 pitch-pine stump, the roots of which are as inflammable as pitch 
 itself, and, tying up the roots in little bundles, and the little bundles 
 into one large one, he would " back" the load to the store, and sell 
 it for kindling wood. His favorite out-door sport, too, at West- 
 haven, was bee-hunting, which is not only an agreeable and excit- 
 ing pastime, but occasionally rewards the hunter with a prodigious 
 mass of honey — as much as a hundred and fifty pounds having been 
 frequently obtained from a single tree. This was profitable sport, 
 and Horace lilced it amazingly. His share of the honey generally 
 found its Avay to the store. By these and other expedients, the boy 
 managed always to have a little money, and when a peddler came 
 
TAKEN FOR AN IDIOT. 63 
 
 along with books in liis wagon, Horace was pretty sure to be big 
 customer. Yet be was only bait" a Yankee. He could earn money, 
 >)ut tbe bargaining faculty be bad not. 
 
 "Wliat did be read ? Whatever he could get. But liis preference 
 was for history, j)oetry, and — newspapers. He had read, as I have 
 before mentioned, the whole Bible before he Avas six years old. 
 He read the Arabian Nights with intense pleasure in his eighth 
 year ; Robinson Crusoe in his ninth ; Shakspeare in his eleventh ; 
 in liis twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth years, he read a good 
 many of the common, superficial histories — Robertson's, Gold- 1 
 smith's, and others — and as many tales and romances as he could 
 borrow. At "Westhaven, as at Amherst, he roamed far and wide 
 in search of books. He was fortunate, too, in living near the 
 ' mansion-bouse' before mentioned, tbe proprietor of which, it ap- 
 pears, took some interest in Horace, freely lent him books, and 
 allowed him to come to the house and read there as often and as 
 long as he chose. 
 
 A story is told by one who lived at the 'mansion-house' when 
 Horace used to read there. Horace entered the library one day, 
 when the master of the house happened to be present, in conversa- 
 tion with a stranger. Tbe stranger, struck with the awkwardness 
 and singular appearance of the boy, took him for little better than 
 an idiot, and was inclined to laugh at the idea of lending books to 
 ' such a fellow as that.^ The owner of tbe mansion defended' his 
 conduct by extolling the intelligence of his protege, and wound up 
 with the usual climax, that lie should " not be surprised, sir, if that 
 boy should come to be President of the United States." People in 
 those days bad a high respect for tbe presidential office, and really 
 believed — many of them did — that to get the highest place it was 
 only necessary to be tbe greatest man. Hence it was a very com- 
 mon mode of praising a boy, to make the safe assertion that he 
 mighty one day, if he persevered in well-doing, be the President of 
 tbe United States. That was before the era of wire-pulling and 
 rotation in office. He must be either a very young or a very old 
 rran who can noic mention tbe presidential office in coimection 
 Avith the future of any boy not extraordinarily vicious. Wire-i)ull- 
 ing, happily, has robbed the schoolmasters of one of their bad argu- 
 mepts for a virtuous life. But we are wandering from the library. 
 
64 
 
 AT WESTHAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 The end of the story is, that tlie stranger looked as if he thought 
 Horace's defender Iialf mad liimself; and, "to tell the truth," said 
 
 the lady who told me the story, "we all thought Mr. had made 
 
 a crazy speech." Horace does not appear to have made a fiivorable 
 impression at the ' mansion-house.' 
 
 But he read the books in it, for all that. Perhaps it was there, 
 that he fell in with a copy of Mrs. Hemans' poems, which, wher- 
 ever he found tliem, were the first poems that awakened his enthu- 
 siasm, the first writings that made him aware of the better impulses 
 of his nature. " I remember," he wrote in the Kose of Sharon for 
 1841, "as of yesterday, the gradual unfolding of the exceeding 
 truthfulness and beauty, the profound heart-knowledge (to coin a 
 Germanism) which cliaracterizes Mrs. Hemans' poems, upon my 
 own immature, unfolding mind. — ' Oassabianca,' 'Things that 
 change,' 'Tlie Voice of Spring,' 'The Traveler at the Source of 
 the Nile,' ' The Wreck,' and many other poems of kindred nature 
 are enshrined in countless hearts — especially of those whose intel- 
 lectual existence dates its commencement between 1820 and 1830 — 
 as gems of priceless value; as spirit- wands, by whose electric touch 
 they were first made conscious of the diviner aspirations, the loft- 
 ier, holier energies within them." 
 
 Such a testimony as this may tench the reader, if he needs the 
 lesson, not to undervalue the authors whom his fastidious taste 
 may place among the Lesser Lights of Literature. To you, fastid- 
 ious reader, those authors may liave little to impart. But among 
 the hills in the country, where the feelings are fresher, and minds 
 are unsated by literary sweets, there may be many a tlioughtful boy 
 and earnest man, to whom your Lesser Lights are Suns that warm, 
 illumine, and quicken I 
 
 The incidents in Horace's life at "Westhaven were few, and of the 
 few that did occur, several have doubtless been forgotten. The 
 people there remember him vividly enough, and are profuse in im- 
 parting their general impressions of his character; but the facts 
 which gave rise to those impressions have mostly escaped their 
 memories. Tiiey speak of him as an absorbed boy, who rarely 
 saluted or saw a passer-by — who would walk miles at the road-side, 
 following the zig-zag of the fences, without once looking up — who 
 was often taken by strangers for a natural fool, but was known by 
 
A. WOLF STORY. 6) 
 
 his intiiiiatea to be, in the language of one of them — " a darned 
 smart fellow, in spite of liis looks" — who was utterly blameless iu 
 all his ways, and works, and words — who had not, and could not 
 have liad, an enemy, because nature, by leaving out of his compo- 
 sition the diabolic element, had made it impossible for him to be 
 one. The few occurrences of the boy's life, ■which, in addition to 
 these general reminiscences of his character, have chanced to escape 
 oblivion, may as well be narrated here. 
 
 As an instance of his nervous timidity, a lady mentions, that 
 when he was about eleven years old, he came to her house one even- 
 ing on some errand, and staid till after dark.' He started for home, 
 at length, but had not been gone many minutes before he burst into 
 the house again, in great agitation, saying he had seen a wolf by 
 the side of the road. There had been rumors of wolves in the 
 neighborhood. Horace declared he had seen the eyes. of one glar- 
 ing upon liim as he passed, and he was so overcome with terror, 
 that two of the elder girls of the family accompanied him home. 
 They saw no wolf, nor were there any wolves about at the time; 
 the mistake probably arose from some phosphorescent wood, or 
 some other bright object. A Vermont boy of that period, as a gen- 
 eral thing, cared little more for a wolf than a New York boy does 
 for a cat, and could have faced a pack of wolves with far less dread 
 than a company of strangers. Horace was never abashed by an 
 audience; but two glaring eye-balls among the brusli-wood sent 
 him flying with terror. 
 
 In nothing are mortals more wise than in their fears. That which 
 we stigmatize as cowardice — what is it but nature's kindly warning 
 to her children, not to confront what they cannot master, and not 
 to undertake what their strength is unequal to? Horace was a 
 match for a rustic auditory, and he feared it not. He was not a 
 match for a wild beast; so he ran away. Considerate nature ! 
 
 Horace, all tlirough his boyhood, kept his object of becoming a 
 printer steadily in view; and soon after coming to Vermont, about 
 Iiis eleventh year, he began to think it time for him to take a step 
 towards the fulfillment of his intention. He talked to his father on 
 the subject, but received no encouragement from Jiim. His father 
 said, and very truly, that no one would take an apprentice so young. 
 But the boy was not satisfled ; and, one morping, he trudged off to 
 
63 AT 'WESTIIAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 Wliitehall, a town about nine miles distant, where a newspaper wag 
 publisLetl, to make inquiries. He went to the printing office, saw 
 the printer, and learned that his father was riglit. He icas too 
 young, the printer said ; and so the boy trudged home again. 
 
 A few months after, he went on another and much longer pedes- 
 trian expedition. He started, witli seventy-tive cents in his pocket 
 and a small bundle of provisions on a stick over his shoulder, to 
 walk to Londonderry, a hundred and twenty miles distant, to see 
 his old friends and relatives. He performed the journey, staid sev- 
 ral weeks, and came back with a shilling or two more money than 
 he took with him — owing, Ave may infer, to the amiable way aunts 
 and uncles have of bestowing small coins upon nephews who visit 
 them. His re-appearance in New Hampshire excited unbounded 
 astonishment, his age and dimensions seeming ludicrously out of 
 proportion to the length and manner of his solitary journey. He 
 was made much of during his stay, and his journey is still spoke.n 
 of there as a wonderful performance, only exceeded, in fact, by 
 Horace's second return to Londonderry a year or tvo after, when 
 he drove, over the same ground, his aunt and her four children, in 
 a ' one-horse wagon,' and drove back again, without the slightest 
 accident. 
 
 As a set-off to these marvels, it must be recorded, that on two 
 other occasions he was taken for an idiot — once, when he entered 
 a store, in one of the brownest of his brown studies, and a stranger 
 inquired, "What darn fool is that?" — and a second time, in the 
 manner following. He was accustomed to call his father '■'■Sir" 
 both in speaking to, and speaking of him. One day, while Horace 
 was chopping wood by the side of the road, a man came up on 
 horse-back and inquired the way to a distant town. Horace could 
 not tell him, and, without looking up, said, " ask Sir,'''' meaning, ask 
 father. The stranger, puzzled at this reply, repeated liis question, 
 and Horace again said, "ask Siry "I «??i asking," shouted the 
 man. " Well, ask xSir," said Horace, once more. " Aint I asking, 
 you — fool?" screamed the man. " But I want you to ask <9tV," said 
 Horace. It was of no avail, the man rode away in disgust, and 
 inquired at the next tavern " who that tow-headed fool was down 
 the road?" 
 
 In a similai' absent fit it must have been, that the boy once at- 
 
TOKINa THE OXEN. C7 
 
 tempted, in vain, to yoke tlie oxen that lie had j-oked a liundrcd 
 times before without difficulty. To see a small boy yoking a pair 
 of oxen is, O City Reader, to behold an amazing exhibition of the 
 power of Mind over Matter. The huge beasts need not come under 
 the yoke — twenty men could not compel them — but they do come 
 under it at Mie beck of a boy that can just stagger under the yoke 
 himself, and whom one of the oxen, with one horn and a shake of 
 the head, could toss over a hay-stack. The boy, with the yoke on 
 his shoulders, and one of the ' bows ' in his hand, marches up to 
 the 'off' ox, puts the bow round his neck, thrusts the ends of the 
 bow through the holes of the yoke, fastens them there— and one 
 ox is his. But the other ! The boy then removes the other bow, 
 holds up the end of the yoke, and commands the 'near' ox to 
 approach, and 'come under here, sir.' "Wonderful to relate! the 
 near ox obeys! He walks slowly up, and takes his place by the 
 side of his brother, as though it were a pleasant thing to jiant all 
 day before the plough, and he was only too happy to leave the dull 
 pasture. But the ox is a creature of habit. If you catch the near 
 ox first, and then try to get the off ox to come under the near side 
 of the yoke, you will discover that the off ox has an opinion of his 
 own. He won't come. This was the mistake Avhich Ilorace, one 
 morning in an absent fit, committed, and the off ox could not be 
 brought to deviate from established usage. After much coaxing, 
 and, possibly, some vituperation, Horace was about to give it up, 
 when his brother chanced to come to the field, who saw at a glance 
 what was the matter, and rectified the mistake. "Ah!" his father 
 used to say, after Horace had made a display of this kind, "tliat 
 boy will never get along in this world. He '11 never know more 
 than enough to come in when it rains." 
 
 Another little story is told of the brothers. The younger wat 
 throwing stones at a pig that preferred to go in a direction exactly 
 contrary to that in which the boys wished to drive him — a com- 
 mon case with pigs, et cetera. Horace, who never threw stones at 
 pigs, was overheard to sa}, "Now, you ought n't to throw stones 
 at that hog ; he don't know anything." 
 
 The person who heard these words uttered by the boy, is one of 
 those bibulant individuals who, in the rural districts, are called 'old 
 •K \kers,' and his face, tobacco-stained, and rubicund with the 
 
68 Ar WK8TUAVKN, YKKMimT. 
 
 ilriiiUs of fiM'ty YOtvi"s, f^loainod with tho Iij?ht. of other dnys, as he 
 hioiH>u^l\otl i>iit tho littlo tiilo. It miiv si^rvo io show how (lio hoy 
 is romomhorod in ^VoslIulv^^n, if 1 luKl a \v>>iil i>r t wo rospootiiij? my 
 intorviow wiMi tliis imm. 1 mot him i>ii mi imtVoiniontoil roml ; hi.t 
 hair was f^Tuy, his stop was tottoriiig; ami thinking it. |»ro\ial>U> ho 
 uii^lit ho nh\o to ntUl to my stook of rominisoonoos, 1 nskod him 
 whotlior ho romoml>oroil Horaoo (irooU<y. Ho mumhUHl ti low 
 Avonls in roply ; hut I porooivoil that ho was far ^;oiio towanls in- 
 toxioation, ami si>oii drmo i>ii. A momontaftor, I hoanl avi>ioooall- 
 in^ hohiml mo. 1 h>okod round, and disoovoroil that tlio voioo was 
 that o[' tiio soakor, wlio was sliiHitinj? for mo tt> stop. 1 aliglitod 
 ftnd wont baok to him. .\nd now tliat liio idoa of my provious 
 quostions had had [\\\\o to imprint ilsolf upon his haU-lorpiil bruin, 
 liis ti>n';Mio was loosonod, ami ho ontorod into tho snhjoot with an 
 entlinsiasm tliat soonjod for a timo to burn n|> tho fumos tliat had 
 stupotiotlidm. Uo was toll of liis tbomo; and, bosidos ooidh-mmj;; 
 mnob tliat I had alroady hoanl, addod tho story rolatod abovo, tVom 
 his own roi'ollootion. .\s tho tribnto of ft sot to tbo obaniiiion of 
 tho Maino-l.aw, tho old man's barangno was bijjbly intorosting. 
 
 Tbat part i>f tbo ttiwn of Wostbavon was, tbirty yoars aj^co, a 
 dosporato phioo for drinkinjif. Tbo b.imlot in wliiob tbo family 
 livod h>n^or than anywhoro olso in tbo noi>;bborbood, has ooa.sod to 
 oxist, and it dooayod principally tiironjib tho intomporanoo of its 
 inhabitants. Muob of tbo buul about it has not boon ii\iprovod in 
 tho loast doj^roo, from what it was wbon Horaoo (Jrooloy bolpod to 
 oUw it; nml drink lias absorbed the moans and the onerjjy whioh 
 8lu>uld bavo boon devoted to its improvement. A boy {^rowing up 
 in snob a plaoe would be likely to boeomo either a ilrunkard or a 
 teetotaler, aeoordin^ to bis orj;anization ; and Horaoo booame tho 
 latter. It is rather a sinjunlar faot, that, though both bis parents 
 fti\il all tboir anoeatora worci aooustouuHl to the habitual and liberal 
 use i>f intoxioating liquors and tobacco, neither lli>race nor his 
 brother could ever ho induced ti> partake of either. Tboy had ft 
 oonstitnlional aversion to the taste of both, long before tboy under- 
 Htoi>d tbo nature of tlio human system well enough to know that 
 ntiniulants i>f all kii\ds are neeessarily pernicious. Horace was 
 therefore a toe-tt>taler before teo-totalism oamo up, nnd he took a 
 sort of pledge before tho jdodgo was iuvei'ted. It happened on« 
 
NAKIIOW KHOAI'IC I'KOM DIIOWN INfJ. 00 
 
 (Iiiy Unit, u iii-i|^li1><ii' Hl.()[i|i<r(| to Liiki) (liiiiicr willi ilio I'tiinily, lUi'l, 
 m II iiiiiUur ol' I'oiirwi, Uio liol.l.lo of riiiir vvuh hroiifyjil, <iiit, lor liii* 
 uiiUtrLuiiiriKiiL lldiiuto, il. >i|)|itrarH, <til,ii(:;r UihUmI a lillJo, or (^Iho 
 took a (liH((UHL a\, llio hiiicII of IIio hhilV, or |)crlia|iM wan o(Hiii<l<:<l at 
 tli(» cIIi'c.Ih wliii'.li ho Haw it |)ro(liict). An idea Hl.nick liiin. flo 
 haiil, " I'lillifr, wlial, will you ^ivo riio if I <io iiol, drink a drop of 
 li(|nor (ill I am twcnty-ono V" His IuIIhi-, who look the <jiniilioii art 
 aj'ikr, aiiswcirod, "J'll givi) you a dollar." " II.'h u Imrgaiii," Maid 
 l!ora<',(\ And it wuh a harj^ain, at. hahl, on tho hide of lloriuu-, who 
 kt'|)t IiIh |iIim1j^() invioiatd, thoiii^h I liavo no reason to liclirvo ho 
 ovur riiccivitd his dollar. Many wore, tlm all<-Mi|)ls iiiit'h-, hy his 
 friondH, then and al'lcrwards, to induce him lo hnak hin n- .dliilion, 
 and on ono ooitasi<jn they triced to I'oi'co homm' liijuor inl<> his moulh. 
 JJut from thci day (Jii which th(r convctrHaiion (^ivon ahov(! occiirrcuj, 
 to I his day, ho has not knowinjj^Iy taken iid.o hin HyHtem any alco- 
 liolio rKjuid. 
 
 At Weiliiaven, iioraee ineurri'd the s<'<'ond jieri! of hi:; iil'i'. If(! 
 waH nearly Htnin(.dc<l in comiM,"; inio the world ; and, in hii I liirhcnl h 
 ytiar, iio was nearly Htrant^led out of it. 'J'he, family were tlniU 
 livinji; on tiio hanks of tlie lluhhai'ton riv<;r, n, snndl htream whieh 
 HU|)|;licd |)ower lo the, old ''I'r^oii Sawmill,' wiileh the I'alher, as- 
 hIhIikI hy his iioys, conduct*;!! loi' a y<;ar <tr two. Acr<»HH the rivi^r, 
 where it was widened hy the dam, there was no hridj^e, and |)co|)lo 
 w«ro accuHtomeil to j^et over on a lloating Haw-lo^(, pushing along 
 tho log hy means of a pole. 'I'ho hoys vvcu'o lloating alioiit in tho 
 rivei' one day, when the log on whicji tlui younger hr-ollier was 
 Htanding, rolle<l ovei', and in went the hoy, over head and <;ars, 
 Into water deep enough to drown a girall'o. llo rose to the hinfaco 
 and einng to tiio hark of thu log, hut was nnahio to get upon it 
 from tho same cauHo as that wlii(;h had prevented his Ktanding upon 
 It — it would roll. Horace liUHtened to IiIh aHsistanco. lie got upon 
 the log to which his hrother waH clinging, lay down ujion il,, and 
 put down a hand for hiH hrother to grasp. His lirother did graM|) 
 it, and |)ull(!d with ho much vigor, that the log made another rev- 
 olution, and in went llora<;e. Neither of the hoys could swim. 
 They clung to tin; log and i creaine<l lor asHistance ; hut no one h;iji- 
 jieiied to ho near enough to hear them. At length, the younger of 
 the drowning pair numaged, hy dind/mg over Horace, und Housing 
 
70 AT ■WESTHAVKN, VERMONT. 
 
 liim completely under the log, to get out. Horace emerged, half- 
 drowned, and again hung for life at the rough bark. But the future 
 hero of ten thousand paragraphs was not to be drowned in a mill- 
 pond ; so the log floated into shallower water, when, by making a 
 last, spasmodic effort, he succeeded in springing up high enough to 
 get safely upon its broad back. It was a narrow escape for both ; 
 but Horace, with all his reams of articles forming in his head, came 
 as near taking a summary departure to that bourn where no 
 Teibune could have been set up, as a boy could, and yet not go. 
 He went dripping home, and recovered from the effects of his ad- 
 venture in due time. 
 
 This was Horace Greeley's j'frsi experience of 'log-rolling.' It 
 ■vas not calculated to make him like it. 
 
 One of the first subjects which the boy seriously considered, and 
 perliaps the first upon which he arrived at a decided opinion, was 
 Religion. And this was the more remarkable from the fact, that 
 his education at home was not of a nature to direct his attention 
 strongly to the subject. Both of his parents assented to the Ortho- 
 dox creed of New England ; his father inherited a preference for 
 the Baptist denomination ; his mother a leaning to the Presbyter- 
 ian. But neither were members of a church, and neither were par- 
 ticularly devout. The father, however, wa.s somewhat strict in 
 certain observances. He would not allow novels and plays to be 
 read in the house on Sundays, nor an heretical book at any time. 
 The family, when they lived near a church, attended it with con- 
 siderable regularity — Horace among the rest. Sometimes the fathei 
 would require the children to read a certain number of chapters in 
 the Bible on Sunday, And if the mother — as mothers are apt to 
 be — was a little less scrupulous upon sucli points, and occasionally 
 winked at Sunday novel-reading, it certainly did not arise from any 
 set disapproval of her husband's strictness. It was merely that she 
 was the mother, he the father, of the family. The religious educa- 
 tion of Horace was, in short, of a nature to leave his mind, not un- 
 biased in favor of orthodoxy — that had been almost impossible in 
 New England thirty yeai'S ago — but as nearly in equilibrium on the 
 subject, in a state as favorable to original inquiry, as the place and 
 circumstances of his early life rendered possible. 
 
 There was not in Westhaven one individual whc wa;' knowc to 
 
THE STORY OF DEMETRIUS, 71 
 
 be a dissenter from the estaltlii-liod fiiith ; nor was there anj' dis- 
 eenting sect or society in the vicinity ; nor was any i)eriodical of a 
 heterodox cliaracter taken in the neighborliood ; nor did any heret- 
 ical works fall in the boy's Avay till years after his religious opinions 
 were settled. Yet, from the age of twelve he began to doubt; 
 and at fourteen — to use the pathetic language of one who knew 
 him then — " he was little better than a Universalist." 
 
 Tlie theology of the seminary and the theology of the farm-house 
 are two different things. They are as urdike as the discussion of the 
 capital punishment question in a debating society is to the dis- 
 cussion of the same question among a comi)any of criminals ac- 
 cused of murder. The unsophisticated, rural mind meddles not 
 with tlic metaphysics of divinity ; it takes little interest in the 
 Foreknowledge and Free-will difficulty, in the Election and Respon- 
 sibility problem, and the manifold subtleties connected therewith. 
 It grapples with a simpler question: — '■ Am I in danger ofleing 
 damned f ' Is it likely that I shall go to hell, and be tormented with 
 burning sulphur, and the proximity of a serpent, forever, and ever, 
 and ever?' To minds of an ampler and more generous nature, the 
 same question presents itself, but in another form : — Is it a fact that 
 nearly every individual of the human family will forever fjiil of at- 
 taining the WELFARE of whicli he was created capable, and be ' Zos/,' 
 beyond the hope, beyond tlie possibility of recovery V Upon the 
 latter form of the inquiry, Horace meditated mucli, and talked 
 often during his thirteenth and fourteenth years. When his com- 
 panions urged the orthodox side, he would rather object, but mildly, 
 and say with a puzzled look, "It don't seem consistent." 
 
 While he was in the habit of revolving such thouglits in his mind, 
 a circumstance occurred which accelerated his progress towards a 
 rejection of the damnation dogma. It was nothing more than his 
 chance reading in a school-book of the history of Demetrius Polior- 
 c^tes. The part of the story which bore upon the subject of his 
 thoughts may be out-lined thus : — ■ 
 
 Demetrius, (B. C. 301,) surnamed Poliorcfetes, "besieger of cities, 
 was the son of Antigopus, one of those generals whom the death 
 of Alexander the Great left masters of the world. Demetrius was 
 one of the ' fast ' princes of antiquity, a handsome, brave, ingen- 
 
72 AT WE&THAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 lous man, but vain, rash and dissolute. He and liis father ruled 
 over Asia Minor and Syria. Greece was under the sway of Cassander 
 and Ptolemy, who had re-established in Athens aristocratic institu- 
 tions, and held the Athenians in servitude. Demetrius, who aspired 
 to the glory of succoring the distressed, and was not averse to re- 
 ducing the power of his enemies, Cassander and Ptolemy, sailed 
 to Athens with a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships, expelled the 
 garrison and obtained possession of the city. Antigonus had been 
 advised to retain possession of Athens, the key of Greece ; but he 
 replied : — " The best and securest of all keys is the friendship of 
 the people, and Athens was the watch-tower of the world, from 
 whence the torch of his glory would blaze over the earth." Ani- 
 mated by such sentiments, his son, Demetrius, on reaching the city, 
 had proclaimed that "his father, in a happy hour, he hoped, for 
 Athens, had sent him to re-instate them in their liberties, and to re- 
 store their laws and ancient form of government." The Athen- 
 ians received him with acclamations. He performed all that he 
 promised, and more. He gave the people a hundred and fifty 
 thousand measures of meal, and timber enough to build a hundred 
 galleys. The gratitude of the Athenians was boundless. They be- 
 stowed upon Demetrius the title of king and god-protector. They 
 erected an altar upon the spot where he had first alighted from his 
 chariot. They created a priest in his honor, and decreed that he 
 should be received in all his future visits as a god. They changed 
 the name of the month MunycMon to Demetrion, called the last 
 day of every mcnth Demetrius^ and the feasts of Bacchus Demetria. 
 " The gods," say^ the good Plutarch, " soon showed how much of- 
 fended they wc-e at these things." Demetrius enjoyed these ex- 
 travagant honors for a time, added an Athenian wife to tlie number 
 he already possessed, and sailed away to prosecute the war. A sec- 
 ■ ond time the Athenians were threatened with the yoke of Cassander ; 
 again Demetrms, with a fleet of three hundred and thirty ships, 
 came to their deliverance, and again the citizens taxed their ingenu- 
 ity to the utmost in devising for their deliverer new honors and more 
 piquant pleasures. At length Demetrius, after a career of victory, 
 fell into misfortune. His domains were invaded, his father was 
 slain, the kingdom was dismembered, and Demetrius, with a rem- 
 nant of his army, was obliged to fly. Reaching Ephesus in want of 
 
THE STORY OF DEMETRIUS. 73 
 
 money, he spared the temple filled with treasnre ; and fearing liis 
 soldiers Avould plunder it, left the place and embarked for Greece. 
 Mis dependence was upon the Atheniann, witli whom he had left his 
 ■wife, his ships, and his money. Confidently relying npon their af- 
 fection and gratitude, he pursued his voyage with all i)ossible ex- 
 pedition as to a secure asylum. But tlieficlde Athenians failed him 
 in his day of need ! At the Cyclades, Athenian ambassadors met 
 him, and mocked him with the entreaty i\iaX he would by no means 
 go to Athens, as the people had declared by an edict, that they 
 would receive no king into the city ; and as for his wife, he could 
 find her at Megare, whither she had been conducted with the re- 
 spect due to her rank. Demetrius, who up to that moment had 
 borne his reverses with calmness, was cut to the heart, and over- 
 come by mingled disgust and rage. He was not in a condition to 
 avenge the wrong. He expostulated with the Athenians in mod- 
 erate terms, and waited only to be joined by his galleys, and turned 
 his back upon the ungrateful country. Time passed. Demetrius 
 again became powerful. Athens was rent by factions. Availing 
 himself of the occasion, the injured king sailed with a ccmsider- 
 able fleet to Attica, landed his forces and invested the city, which 
 was soon reduced to such extremity of famine that a father and 
 son, it is related, fought for the possession of a dead mouse that 
 happened to fall from the ceiling of the room in which they were 
 sitting. The Athenians were compelled, at length, to open their 
 gates to Demetrius, who marched in with his troops. He com- 
 manded all the citizens to assemble in the theater. They obeyed. 
 Utterly at Ms mercy^ they expected no mercy ^ felt that they deserved 
 no mercy. The theater was surrounded with armed men, and on 
 each side of the stage was stationed a body of the king's own 
 guards. Demetrius entered by the tragedian's passage, advanced 
 across the stage, and confronted the assembled citizens, who await- 
 ed in terror to hear the signal for their slaughter. But no such 
 Vgnal was heard. He addressed them in a soft and persuasive 
 4one, complained of their conduct in gentle terms, forgave their in- 
 'jratitude, took them again into favor, gave the city a hundred thou- 
 '«and measures of wlieat, and promised the re-establishment of their 
 ancient institutions. The people, relieved from their tei-ror, aston- 
 ished at their good fortune, and filled with enthusiasm at such 
 
 4 
 
74 AT WESTHAVEN . VERMONT. 
 
 generous forbearance, overwhelmed Denietrius with acclama- 
 tions. 
 
 Horace w^as fascinated by the story. lie thought the conduct of 
 Demetrius not only magnanimous and humane, but just and politic. 
 Sparing the people, misguided by tlieir leaders, seemed to him the 
 best way to make them ashamed of their ingratitude, and the best 
 ■way of preventing its recurrence. And he argued, if mercy is best 
 and wisest on a small scale, can it be less so on a large ? If a man 
 is capable of such lofty magnanimity, may not God be who made 
 man cai)able of it? If, in a human being, revenge and jealousy are 
 despicable, petty and vulgar, what imjjiety is it to attribute such 
 feelings to the beneficent Father of the Universe ? The sin of the 
 Athenians against Demetrius had every element of enormity. 
 Twice he had snatched them from the jaws of ruin. Twice he 
 had supplied their dire necessity. Twice ho had refused all reward 
 except the empty honors they j^aid to his name and person, lie 
 had condescended to become one of them by taking a daughter of 
 Athens as his wife. He had entrusted his wife, his ships and liis 
 treasure to their care. Yet in the day of his calamity, when for 
 the first time it was in their ^jower to render him a service, when 
 he was coming to them with the remnant of his fortune, without a 
 doubt of their fidelity, with every reason to supi)ose that his mis- 
 fortunes would render him dearer to them than ever; ^Ae/i it was 
 that they determined to refuse him even an admittance within their 
 gates, and sent an embassy to meet him with mockery and sub- 
 terfuge. 
 
 Of the offenses committed by man against man, there is one 
 which man can seldom lift his soul up to the height of forgiving. 
 It is to be slighted in the day of his humiliation by those who 
 showed him honor in the time of his prosperity. Yet man can 
 forgive even this. Demetrius foi-gave it; and the nobler and 
 greater a man is, the less keen is his sense of personal wrong, the 
 less difficult it is for him to forgive. The poodle must show his 
 teeth at every passing dog ; the mastiff walks majestic and serene 
 througli a pack of snarling curs. 
 
 Amid such thoughts as these, the orthodox theory of danmation 
 had little chance ; the mind of the boy revolted against it more and 
 
BECOMES A UNIVERSALIST. 15 
 
 iiKtre; aiul tho result was, tliat ho became as our pious friend 
 lamented, "little bettor than a Univorsalist" — in fact no better. 
 From tlio a^-o of fourteen he was known wherever he lived as a 
 chami)i(>n of Universal ism, though he never entered a Universalist 
 churcii till he was twenty years old. By wliut moans ho managed 
 to 'reconcile' iiis new belief with the explicit and unmistakable 
 declarations of what he continued to regard as Holy "Writ, or how 
 anybody has ever done it, I do not know. The boy api)oars to have 
 shed his ortliodoxy easily. His Avas not a nature to travail with a 
 new idea for months and years, and arrive at certainty only after a 
 struggle that rends tho soul, antl loaves it sore and sick for life. Ho 
 was young ; tlio' iron of our theological system had not entered into 
 his soul; he took the matter somewhat lightly ; and, having arrived 
 at a theory of tlio Divine government, which accorded with his own 
 gentle and forgiving nature, he let tho rest of the theological scieuco 
 alone, and wont on his way rejoicing. 
 
 Yet it was no slight thing tliat had happened to him. A man's 
 Faith is the man. Not to have a Faith is not to be a man. Beyond 
 all comparison, tho most important fact of a man's life is the forma- 
 tion of the Faitii which he adheres to and lives by. And tliough 
 Horace Greeley has occupied himself little with tilings spiritual, 
 confining himself, by a necessity of his nature, chiefly to tho j)ro- 
 motion of material interests, yet I doubt not that this early change 
 in his religious belief was tho event which gave to all his subse- 
 quent life its direction and character. Whether that change was a 
 desii-able one, or an undesirable, is a question upon which the reader 
 of course has a decided opinion. The following, perhaps, may bo 
 taken as the leading consequences of a deliberate and intelligent ox- 
 change of a severe creed in which a person has been educated, foi 
 a less severe one to Avhich he attains by the operations of his own 
 mind : 
 
 It quickens his understanding, and multiplies his ideas to an extent 
 which, it is said, no one wlio lias never experienced it can possibly 
 conceive. It induces in him a habit of original refiection upon sub- 
 jects of imi)ortanco. It makes him slow to believe a thing, merely 
 because many believe it — merely because it has long been believed. 
 It renders him open to conviction, for he cannot forget that tliere 
 was a time when he held opinions which he now clearly sees to be 
 
76 AT WESTHAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 erroneous. It dissolves the spell of Authority ; it makes him dis- 
 ti'ustful of Great Names. It lessens his terror of Public Opinion ; 
 for he has confronted it — discovered that it shows more teeth than 
 it uses — that it harms only those who fear it — that it bows at length 
 in homage to him whom it cannot frighten. It throws him upon 
 his own moral resources. Formerly, Fear came to his assistance in 
 moments of temptation ; hell-fire rolled up its column of lurid smoke 
 before him in the dreaded distance. But now he sees it not. If he 
 has the Intelligence to know, the Heart to love, the Will to clioose, 
 the Strength to do, the Eight ; he does it, and his life is high, and 
 pure, and noble. If Intelligence, or Heart, or Will, or Strength is 
 wanting to him, he vacillates ; he is not an integer, his life is not. 
 But, in either case, his Acts are the measure of his Worth. 
 
 Moreover, the struggle of a heretic with the practical difficulties 
 of life, and particularly his early struggle, is apt to be a hard one; 
 for, generally^ the Rich, the Eespectable, the Talented, and the 
 Virtuous of a nation are ranged on the side of its Orthodoxy in an 
 overwhelming majority. They feel themselves allied with it — de- 
 pendent upon it. Above all, they believe in it, and think they 
 would be damned if they did not. They are slow to give their 
 countenance to one who dissents from their creed, even though he 
 aspire only to make their shoes, or clean them, and though they 
 more than suspect that the rival shoemaker round the corner keeps 
 a religious newspaper on his counter solely for the effect of the 
 thing upon pious consumers of shoe-leather. 
 
 To depart from the established Faith, then, nmst be accounted a 
 risk, a danger, a thing uncomfortable and complicating. But, from 
 the nettle Danger, alone^ we pluck the flower Safety. And he who 
 loves Truth first — Advantage second — will certainly find Trath at 
 length, and care little at what loss of Advantage. So, let every 
 man be fully persuaded in his own mind — with which safe and 
 salutary text we may take leave of matters theological, and resume 
 our story. 
 
 The political events which occurred during Horace Greeley's 
 residence in Westhaven were numerous and exciting ; some of 
 them were of a character to attract the attention of a far less for- 
 ward and thoughtful boy than he. Doubtless he read the message 
 of President Monroe in 1821, in which the policy of Protection 
 
DISCOVERS THE HUMBUG OF " DEMOCRACY." 77 
 
 to American Industry was recommended strongly, and advocated 
 by arguments so simple that a child could understand them; so 
 cogent that no man could refute them — arguments, in fact, pre- 
 cisely similar to those which the Tribune has since made familiar 
 to the country. In the message of 1822, tlio president repeated his 
 recommendation, and again in that of 1824. Those were the years 
 of the recognition of the South American Republics, of the Greek 
 enthusiasm, of Lafayette's triumphal progress through the Union ; 
 of tlie occupation of Oregon, of the suppression of Piracy in the 
 Gulf of Mexico ; of the Clay, Adams and Jackson controversy. It 
 was during the period we are now considering, that Henry Clay 
 made his most brilliant efforts in debate, and secured a place in the 
 affections of Horace Greeley, which he retained to his dying day. 
 It was then, too, tliat the boy learned to distrust the party who 
 claimed to be pre-eminently and exclusively Democratic. 
 
 How attentively he watched the course of political events, how 
 intelligently he judged them, at the age of thirteen, may be inferred 
 from a passage in an article which he wrote twenty years after, the 
 facts of which he stated from his early recollection of them : 
 
 " Tho first political contest," he wrote in the Tribune for August 29th, 
 1846, " in which we ever took a distinct interest will serve to illustrate this dis- 
 tinction [between real and sham democracy]. It was the Presidential Election 
 of 1824. Five candidates for President were offered, but one of them was 
 withdrawn, leaving four, all of them members in regular standing of the so- 
 called Republican or Democratic party. But a caucus of one-fourth of the 
 members of Congress had selected one of the four (William II. Crawford) as 
 the Republican candidate, and it was attempted to make the support of this one 
 a test of party orthodoxy and fealty. This was resisted, we think most justly 
 and democratically, by three-fourths of the people, including a large major- 
 ity of those of this State. But among the prime movers of the caucus wires 
 was Martin Van Buren of this State, and hero it was gravely proclaimed and 
 insisted that Democracy required a blind support of Crawford in preference to 
 Adams, Jackson, or Clay, all of the Democratic party, who were competitors 
 for the station. A Legislature was chosen as ' Republican' before the people 
 generally had begun to think of the Presidency, and, this Legislature, it was 
 undoubtingly expected, would choose Crawford Electors of President. But the 
 friends of the rival candidates at length began to bestir themselves and de- 
 mand that the New York Electors should be chosen by a direct vote of the peo- 
 ple, and not by a forestalled Legislature This demand was vehemently ro- 
 
78 AT WESTHAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 sisted by Martin Van Buren and those who followed his lead, including the 
 leading ' Democratic' politicians and editors ol the State, the ' Albany Argus,' 
 ' Noah's Enquirer, or National Advocate,' <!kc. &c. The feeling in fiivor of an 
 Election by the people became so strong and general that Gov. Yates, though 
 himself a Crawford man, was impelled to call a special session of the Legisla- 
 ture for this express purpose. The Assembly passed a bill giving the choice 
 to the people by an overwhelming majority, in defiance of the exertions of 
 Van Buren, A. C. Flagg, &c. The bill went to the Senate, to which body Silas 
 Wright had recently been elected from the Northern District, and elected by 
 Clintonian votes on an explicit understanding that he would vote for giving 
 the choice of the Electors to the people. He accordingly voted, on one or two 
 abstract propositions, that the choice ought to be given to the people. But 
 when it came to a direct vote, this same Silas Wright, now Governor, voted to 
 deprive the people of that privilege, by postponing the whole subject to the 
 next regular ses.sion of the Legislature, when it would be too late for the peo- 
 ple to choose Electors for that time. A bare majority (17) of the Senators 
 thus withheld from the people the right they demanded. The cabal failed in 
 their great object, after all, for several members of the Legislature, elected as 
 Democrats, took ground for Mr. Clay, and by uniting with the friends of Mr. 
 Adams defeated most of the Crawford Electors, and Crawford lost the Presi- 
 dency. We were but thirteen when this took place, but we looked on very 
 earnestly, without prejudice, and tried to look beyond the mere names by 
 which the contending parties were called. Could we doubt that Democracy 
 was on one side and the Democratic party on the other 7 Will ' Democrat' 
 attempt to gainsay it now ? 
 
 " Mr. Adams was chosen President — as thorough a Democrat, in the true 
 sense of the word, as ever lived — a plain, unassuming, upright, and most ca- 
 pable statesman. He managed the public affairs so well that nobody could 
 really give a reason for opposing him, and hardly any two gave the same rea- 
 son. There was no party conflict during his time respecting the Bank, Tariff, 
 Internal Improvements, nor anything else of a substantial character. He 
 kept the expenses of the government very moderate. He never turned a man 
 out of office because of a difference of political sentiment. Yet it was deter- 
 mined at the outset that he should be put down, no matter how well he might 
 administer the government, and a combination of the old Jackson, Crawford, 
 and Calhoun parties, with the personal adherents of De Witt Clinton, aided by 
 a shamefully false and preposterous outcry that he had obtained the Presi- 
 dency by a bargain with Mr. Clay, succeeded in returning an Opposition Con- 
 gress in the middle of his term, and at its close to put in General Jackson over 
 him by a largo majority. 
 
 'Tlie character of this man Jackson we had studied pretty thoroughly and 
 without prejudice. His fatal duel with Dickinson about a horse-race ; his pis- 
 toling Colonel Benton in the streets of Nashville ; his forcing his way through 
 
SHAM AND REAL DEMOCRACY. 79 
 
 the Indian country with his drove of negroes in defiance of the express order 
 of the Agent Dinsnioro ; his imprisonment of Judge Uall at New Orleans, 
 long after the British had left that quarter, and when martial law ought long 
 since to have been set aside ; his irruption into Florida and capture of Spanish 
 posts and officers without a shadow of authority to do so ; his throats to cut 
 oflF the ears of Senators who censured this conduct in solemn debate — in short, 
 his whole life convinced us that the man never was a Democrat, in any proper 
 sense of the term, but a violent and lawless despot, after the pattern of Cxsar, 
 Cromwell, and Napoleon, and unfit to be trusted with power. Of course, we 
 went against him, but not against anything really Democratic in him or his 
 party. 
 
 " That GeneralJackson in power justified all our previousexpcctationsof him, 
 need hardly be said. That he did more to destroy the Republican character 
 of our government and render it a centralized despotism, than any other 
 man could do, we certainly believe. But our correspondent and we would 
 probably disagree with regard to the Bank and other questions which con- 
 vulsed the Union during his rule, and we will only ask his attention to one 
 of them, the earliest, and, in our view, the most significant. 
 
 "The Cherokee Indians owned, and had ever occupied, an extensive tract of 
 country lying within the geographical limits of Georgia, Alabama, &c. It was 
 theirs by the best possible title — theirs by our solemn and reiterated Treaty 
 stipulations. We had repeatedly bought from them slices of their lands, 
 solemnly guarantying to them all that we did not buy, and agreeing to de- 
 fend them therein against all aggressors. We had promised to keep all intrud- 
 ers out of their territory. At least one of these Treaties was signed by Gen. 
 Jackson himself ; others by Washington, Jefferson, &o. All the usual pre- 
 texts for agression upon Indians failed in this case. The Cherokces had been 
 our friends and allies for many years ; they had committed no depredations ; 
 they were peaceful, industrious, in good part Christianized, had a newspaper 
 printed in their own tongue, and were fast improving in the knowledge and 
 application of the arts of civiliied life. They compared favorably every way 
 with their white neighbors. But the Georgians coveted their fertile lands, 
 and determined to have them ; they set them up in a lottery and gambleU 
 them off among themselves, and resolved to take possession. A fraudulent 
 Treaty was made between a few Cherokees of no authority or consideration 
 and sundry white agents, including one ' who stole tho livery of Heaven to 
 Berve the devil in,' but everybody scoffed at this mockery, as did ninety-nino 
 hundredths of tho Chorokees. 
 
 "NowGcorgia, during Mr. Adams' Administration, attempted to extend her 
 jurisdiction over these poor people. Mr. Adams, finding remonstrance of no 
 avail, stationed a part of tho army at a proper point, prepared to drive all 
 intruders out of tho Cherokee country, as we had by treaty solemnly engaged 
 to do. This answered the purpose. Georgia blustered, but dared not go fur- 
 
80 AT WESTHAVEN, VERMONT. 
 
 ther. She went en masse for Jackson, of course. When he camo in, she pro- 
 ceeded at once to extend her jurisdiction over the Cherokees in very deed. 
 They remonstrated — pointed to their broken treaties, and urged the President 
 to perform his sworn duty, and protect them, but in vain. Georgia seized a 
 Cherokee accused of killing another Cherokee in their own country, tried him 
 for and convii-ted him of murder. He sued out a writ of error, carried the 
 case up to the U. S. Supreme Court, and there obtained a decision in his favor, 
 establishing the utter illegality as well as injustice of the acts of Georgia in 
 the premises. The validity of our treaties with the Cherokees, and the conse- 
 quent duty of the President to see them enforced, any thing in any State-law 
 or edict to the contrary notwithstanding, was e.xplicitoly affirmed. But Presi- 
 dent Jackson decided that Georgia was right and the Supreme Court wrong, 
 and refused to enforce the decision of the latter. So the Court was defied, the 
 Cherokee hung, the Cherokee country given up to the cupidity of the Geor- 
 gians, and its rightful owners driven across ihe Mississippi, virtually at the 
 point of the bayonet. That case changed the nature of our Government, 
 making the President Supreme Judge of the Law as well as its Chief Min- 
 ister — in other words, Dictator. " Amen ! Hurrah for Jackson !" said the 
 Pharisaic Democracy of Party and Spoils. We could not say it after them. 
 "We considered our nation perjured in the trampling down and exile of these 
 Cherokees ; perjury would have lain heavy on our soul had we approved and 
 promoted the deed." 
 
 On anotlier occasion, wlien Silas "Wright was nominated for Gov- 
 ernor of the State of New York, the Tribune broke forth : " The 
 'notorious Seventeen ' — what New-Yorker has not heard of them? 
 — ^yet how small a proportion of our present voting population re- 
 tain a vivid and distinct recollection of the outrage on Kepublican- 
 ism and Popular Rights which made the 'Seventeen' sounenviably 
 notorious ! The Editor of the Tribune is of that proportion, be it 
 Bmall or large. Tiiougli a boy in 1824, and living a mile across the 
 Vermont line of the State, he can never forget the indignation 
 awakened by that outrage, which made him for ever an adversary 
 of the Albany Regency and the demagogues who here and else- 
 where made use of the terms ' Democracy,' ' Democrats,' ' Demo- 
 cratic party,' to hoodwink and cajole the credulous and unthinking 
 — to divert tlieir attention from things to names — to divest them of 
 independent and manly thought, and lead them blindfold wherever 
 the intriguers' interests shall dictate — to establish a real Aristocracy 
 under the abused name of Democracy. It was 1824 which taught 
 many beside us the nature of this swindle, and fired them with un- 
 
IMPATIENT TO BEGIN IIIS APPRENTICESHIP. 81 
 
 conquerable zeal and resolution to tlefeat the fraud hy exposing it 
 to the apprehension of a duped and betrayed people." 
 
 These extracts will assist the reader to recall the political excite- 
 ments of the time. And he may well esteem it extraordinary for a 
 boy of thirteen — an age when a boy is, generally, most a boy — to 
 understand them so well, and to be interested in them so deeply. 
 It should be remembered, however, that in remote country places, 
 where the topics of conversation are few, all the peo[)le take a de« 
 gree of interest in politics, and talk about political questions with a 
 frequency and pertinacity of which the busy inhabitants of cities 
 can form little idea. 
 
 Horace's last year in Westhaven (1825) wore slowly away. He 
 had exhausted the schools ; he was impatient to be at the types, 
 and he wearied his father witli importunities to get him a place in 
 a printing-otfice. But his father was loth to let him go, for two 
 reasons : the boy was useful at home, and the cautious father feare(? 
 he would not do well away from home ; he was so gentle, so ab 
 sent, so awkward, so little calculated to make his way with strar 
 gers. One day, the boy saw in the " Northern Sitectator," a weekl? 
 paper, published at East Poultney, eleven miles distant, an adver- 
 tisement for an apprentice in the office of the " Spectator " itself. 
 He showed it to his father, and wrung from him a reluctant con- 
 sent to his applying for tlie place. "I have n't got time to go anc^ 
 see about it, Horace ; but if you have a mind to walk over to Poult- 
 ney and see what you can do, why you may." 
 
 Horace had a mind to. 
 
 4* 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 The Village of East Poultney— Horace ajiplies for the Place— Scene in the Garden- 
 He makes an Impression— A difficulty arises and is overcome— He enters the 
 office— Rite of Initiation— Horace the Victor- His employer's recollections of hirr 
 —The Pack of Cards— Horace begins to paragraph— Joins the Delsating Society— 
 His manner of Deljating— Horace and the Dandy— His noble conduct to his 
 father— His first glimpse of Saratoga— His manners at the Table— Becomes the 
 Town-Encyclopedia— The Doctor's Story— Recollections of one of his fellow ap- 
 prentices—Horace's favorite Poets- Politics of the time — The Anti-Mason Excite- 
 ment—The Northern Spectator stops — The Apprentice is Free. 
 
 East Podltney is not, decidedly not, a place which a traveler — 
 if, by any extraordinary chance, a traveler should ever visit it — 
 ■v^ould naturally suspect of a newspaper. But, in one of the most 
 densely-populated parts of the city of New York, there is a field! 
 — a veritable, indubitable field, with a cow in it, a rough wooden 
 fence around it, and a small, low, wooden house in the middle of it, 
 where an old gentleman lives, who lived there when all was rural 
 around him, and who means to live there all his days, pasturing his 
 cow and raising his potatoes on ground which he could sell — but 
 won't — at a considerable number of dollars per foot. The field in 
 the metropolis we can account for. But that a newspaper should 
 ever have been published at East Poultney, Rutland county, Ver- 
 mont, seems, at the first view of it, iuexplicable. 
 
 Vermont, however, is a land of villages ; and the business which 
 is elsewhere done only in large towns is, in that State, divided 
 among the villages in the country. Thus, the stranger is astonished 
 at seeing among the few signboards of mere hamlets, one or two 
 containing most unexpected and metropolitan announcements, such 
 as, " SiLVEKSMmi," "Okgan Faotoky," "Piano Fohtes," "Pbint- 
 iNG Office," or " Patent Melodeons." East Poultney, for example, 
 ia little more than a hamlet, yet it once had a newspaper, and 
 boasts a small factory of melodeons at this moment. A foreigner 
 
THE VILLAGE OF EAST POULTNEY. 83 
 
 would as soon expect to see there an Italian opera house or a 
 French cafe. 
 
 The Poiiltney river is a small stream that flows through a valley, 
 ■which widens and narrows, narrows and widens, all along its course; 
 here, a rocky gorge; a grassy plain, beyond. At one of its narrow 
 places, wliere tlie two ranges of hills approach and nod to one 
 another, and where the river pours through a rocky channel — a 
 torrent on a very small scale — the little village nestles, a cluster of 
 houses at the base of an enormous hill. It is built round a small 
 triangular green, in the middle of which is a church, with a liand- 
 some clock in its steeple, all complete except the works, and bear- 
 ing on its aini)le face the date, 1805. No village, however minute, 
 can get on without three churclies, representing the Conservative, 
 the Enthusiastic, and Eccentric tendencies of human nature ; and, 
 of course, East Poultney has three. It has likewise the most 
 remarkably shabby and dilapidated school-house in all the country 
 round. There is a store or two; but business is not brisk, and 
 when a customer arrives in town, perhaps, his first difficulty will be 
 to find the storekeeper, who has locked up his store and gone to 
 hoe in his garden or talk to the blacksmith. A tavern, a furnace, a 
 saw-mill, and forty dwelling houses, nearly complete the inventory 
 of the village. Tlie place has a neglected and ' seedy ' aspect which 
 is rare in iSIew England. In that remote and sequestered spot, it 
 seems to have been forgotten, and left behind in the march of prog- 
 ress ; and the people, giving up the hope and the endeavor to catch 
 up, have settled down to the tranquil enjoyment of Things as they 
 Are. The village cemetery, near by, — more populous far than the 
 village, for the village is an old one — is upon the side of a steep 
 ascent, and whole ranks of gravestones bow, submissive to the 
 law of gravitation, and no man sets them upright. A quiet, slow 
 little place is East Poultney. Thirty years ago, the people were a 
 little more wide awake, and there were a few more of them. 
 
 It was a flue spring morning in the year 1826, about ten o'clock, 
 when Mr. Amos Bliss, the manager, and one of the proprietors, of 
 the Northern Spectator, 'might have been seen' in the garden be- 
 hind his house planting potatoes. He heard the gate open behind 
 him, and, without turning or looking round, became dimly conscious 
 of the presence of a boy. But the boys of country villages go into 
 
84 APPUENTICESniP. 
 
 wlioRCsoever garden tlic'ir Avaiulering fancy iini)ol8 them, and suiipos- 
 iiig this boy to be one of liis own neighbors, Mr. liliss {'OMtiiiued 
 his work and ([uickly forgot that he was not alone. In a few min- 
 utes, ho heard a voice close behind him, a strange voicu-, high- 
 pitched and whining. 
 
 It said, " Are you the man that carries on tlio printing oilice ?" 
 
 Mr, Bliss then turned, and resting u\)on his hoe, aurvoycd the per- 
 son who had thus addressed him. lie saw standing before him a 
 boy apparently about fifteen years of age, of a liglit, tall, and slen- 
 der form, dressed in the plain, farmer's cloMi of the time, his gar- 
 ments cut with an utter disregard of elegance and (it. His trow- 
 sers were exceedingly short and voluminous ; lie wore no stt)ckings ; 
 liis shoes were of the kind denominated 'high-lows,' ami much 
 worn down; his hat was of felt, 'one of the old stamp, with so 
 small a biim, that it looked more like a two-quart measure inverted 
 than anything else ;' and it was worn far back on his head ; his hair 
 was white, with a tinge of orange at its extremities, and it la}' 
 thiidy upon a broad forehead and over a head ' rocking on shoulders 
 which seemed too slender to support the weight of a member so 
 disproportioned to the general outline.' The general ellVct of the 
 figure and its costume was so outr/;^ they presented such a combina- 
 tion of the rustic and ludicrous, and the apparition had come upon 
 him so suddenly, that the amiable gardener could scarcely keep 
 from laughing. 
 
 He restrained himself, however, and re[ilied, "Yes, I'm the 
 man." 
 
 Whereupon the stranger asked, " Don't you want a b(»y to learn 
 the trade?" 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Bliss, "we have been thinking of it. \)o you 
 want to learn to print ?" 
 
 " I 'vo had some notion of it," said tJio boy in true Yaidcee fash- 
 ion, as though he had not been dreaming about it, and longing for 
 it for years. 
 
 Mr. Bliss was both astonished and puzzled— astonished that such 
 a fellow as the boy looked to be, should have ever thought of learn- 
 ing to print, and puzzled how to convoy to him an idea of the ab- 
 surdity of tiie notion. So, with an exDresssion in his countenance, 
 Buch as that of a tender-hearted dry-goods merchant might bo sup- 
 
IIOUACE APPLIES FOR THE PLACE. 85 
 
 posed to nssunio if a luxl-carrier should apply for ;i i)luco in tlio laco 
 department, lie said, "Well, my boy— but, you kiunv, it takes con- 
 siderable learning to be a printer. Have you been to scliool much ?" 
 
 "No," said llie boy, "1 have 'nt had nnicli chaneo at sclioi)!. I've 
 read some." 
 
 " What have you read ?" asked Mr. Bliss. 
 
 " Well, I 'vo read some history, and some travels, and a little of 
 most everything." 
 
 "Where do you live?" 
 
 "At Westhaven" 
 
 " IIow did you come over?" 
 
 " I came on toot." 
 
 " What's your luime?" 
 
 " Horace (Jreeley." 
 
 Now it liappened that Mr. Amos Bliss had been for the last three 
 years an Insfjector of Conmion Scliools, and in I'lillilling tbo duties 
 of his office — examining and licensing teachers — he liad ac(piired an 
 uncommon facility in asking questions, and a fondness for tiuit ex- 
 ercise wbicli men generally entertain for any employment in which 
 they suppose themselves to excel. The youth before him was — in the 
 language of medic;d students — a 'fresh subject,' and tlie Inspector 
 proceeded to try all his skill upon him, advancing from easy (pies- 
 tions to hard ones, uj) to those knotty problems with which lie had 
 been wont to ' stump' candidates for the office of teacher. The 
 hoy was a matcli for liim. lie answered every question promptly, 
 clearly and modestly. Ho could not bo 'stumped' in the ordinary 
 school studies, and of the books he had read lie could give a correct 
 and complete analysis, in Mr. Bliss's own account of the inter- 
 view, ho says, "On entering into conversation, and a jiartial exam- 
 ination of the quuhli(;ations of my now a|)i)licant, it rofpiired but littlo 
 time to discover that lie possessed a mind of no commoM order, and 
 an acquired intelligence far beyond his years. He had had but littlo 
 opportunity at the common scliool, but ho said ' he had read some,' 
 and what lie had read he well understood and remend)ered. In 
 aildition to the ripe intelligence numifested in one so young, and 
 whoso instruction had been so limited, there was a single-minded- 
 ness, a truthfulness and common sense in what he said, that at 
 once commanded my regard." 
 
86 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 After half an liour's conversation witli the boy, Mr. Bliss intimat- 
 ed that he tliought he would do, and told him to go into the print- 
 ing-office and talk to the foreman. Horace Avent to the printing- 
 office, and there his appearance produced an effect on the tender 
 minds of the three apprentices avIio were at work therein, which 
 can be much better imagined than described, and which is most 
 vividly remembered by the two who survive. To the foreman 
 Horace addressed himself, regardless certainly, oblivious probably, 
 of the stare and the remarks of the boys. The forenian, at first, 
 was inclined to wonder that Mr. Bliss should, for one moment, 
 think it possible that a boy got up iu that style could perform the 
 most ordinary duties of a printer's apprentice. Ten minutes' talk 
 with him, however, effiBcted a partial revolution in his mind in the 
 boy's favor, and as he was greatly in want of another apprentice, 
 he was not inclined to be over particular. He tore off a slip of 
 proof-paper, wrote a few words upon it hastily with a pencil, and 
 told the boy to take it to Mr. Bliss. That piece of paper was his 
 fate. The words were : ' Guess we ^d letter try Mm.'' Away went 
 Horace to the garden, and presented his paper. Mr. Bliss, whose 
 curiosity had been excited to a high pitch by the extraordinary 
 contrast between the appearance of the boy and his real quality, 
 now entered into a long conversation with him, questioned him 
 respecting his history, liis past employments, his parents, their cir- 
 cumstances, his own intentions and wishes ; and the longer he talk- 
 ed, the more his admiration grew. The result was, that he agreed 
 to acce[)t Horace as an apprentice, provided his father would agree 
 to the usual terms ; and then, with eager steps, and a light heart, 
 the happy boy took the dusty road that led to his home in West- 
 haven. 
 
 " You 're not going to hire that tow-head, Mr. Bliss, are you ?" • 
 asked one of the apprentices at the close of the day. " I am," was 
 the reply, " and if you boys are expecting to get any fun out of 
 him, you 'd better get it quick, or you '11 be too late. There 's some- 
 thing in that tow-head, as you '11 find out before you 're a week 
 older." 
 
 A day or two after, Horace packed up his wardrobe in a small 
 cotton handkerchief. Small as it was, it would have held more; 
 for its proprietor never had more than two shirts, and one chang? 
 
A DIFFICLLTY ARISES AND IS OVERCOME. 87 
 
 of outer-clotliing, at the same time, till he was of age. Father and 
 sun walkec], side by side, to roultney, the boy carrying his possess- 
 ions upon a stick over Lis shoulder. 
 
 At Poultney, an unexpected difficulty arose, which for a time made 
 Horace tremble in his high-low shoes. Tlie terms proposed by Mr. 
 Bliss were, that the boy should be bound for tive years, and receive 
 his board and twenty v'ollars a year. Now, Mr. Greeley had ideas 
 of his own on the subject of apprenticeship, and he objected to this 
 proposal, and to every particular of it. In the first place, he had 
 determined that no child of his should ever be bound at all. In the 
 second place, he thought five years an unreasonable time ; thirdly, 
 he considered that twenty dollars a year and board was a compen- 
 sation ridiculously disprojjorlionate to the services which Horace 
 Avould be required to render ; and finally, on each and all of these 
 points, he clung to his opinion with the tenacity of a Greeley. Mr. 
 Bliss appealed to the established custom of the country; five years 
 was the usual period ; the comi)cnsation offered was the regular 
 thing; the binding was a point essential to the employer's interest. 
 And at every pause in the conversation, the appealing voice of Hor- 
 ace was heard : " Father, I guess yon \1 better make a bargain with 
 Mr. Bliss;" or, "Father, I guess it won't make much dilference ;" 
 or, " Don 't you think you 'd better do i J, fatlier ?" At one mo- 
 ment the boy was reduced to despair. Mr. Bliss had given it as 
 his ultimatum that the proposed binding was absolutely indispensa- 
 ble ; he " could do business in no other way." " "Well, then, Hor- 
 ace," said the father, "let us go home." Tlie tatlier turned to go ; 
 but Horace lingered ; he could not give it up ; and so the father 
 turned again ; the negotiation was re-opened, and after a prolonged 
 discussion, a compromise was effected. What the terms were, that 
 were finally agreed to, I cannot positively state, for the three me- 
 mories which I have consulted upon the subject give three different 
 replies. Probably, liowever, they were — no binding, and no money 
 for six months ; then the boy could, if he chose, bind himself for 
 the remainder of the five years, at forty dollars a year, the appren- 
 tice to be boarded from the beginning. And so the father went 
 home, and the son went straight to the printing office and took his 
 first lesson in the art of setting type. 
 
 A few months after, it may be as well to mention here, Mr, 
 
68 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 Greeley removed to Erie county, Pennsylvania, and bonglit some 
 wild land tliere, from wliicli lie gnuliially created a farm, leaving 
 Horace alone in Vermont. Grass now grows where the little house 
 stood in Wosthaven, in which the family lived longest, and the barn 
 in which tliey stored their hay and kept their cattle, leans forward 
 like a kneeling elephant, and lets in the daylight through ten 
 thousand apertures. But tlio neighbors point out the tree that 
 stood before their front door, and the tree that shaded the kitchen 
 window, and the tree that stood behind the house, and the tree 
 whose apples Horace liked, and the bed of mint with whicii he re- 
 galed his nose. And both the people of Westhaven and those of 
 Amherst assert that whenever the Editor of the Tribune revisits 
 the scenes of his early life, at the season when apples are ripe, one 
 of the thingH that he is surest to do, is to visit the apple trees that 
 produce the fruit which he liked best when he Wiis a boy, and 
 which he still prefers before all the api)les of the world. 
 
 The new ajjprentice took his place at the font, and received from 
 the foreman his ' copy,' composing stick, and a few words of in- 
 struction, and then ho addressed himself to his task. He needed 
 no further assistance. The mysteries of the craft he seemed to 
 comprehend intuitively. He had thought of his chosen vocation 
 for many years ; he liad formed a notion how the types must be ar- 
 ranged in order to produce the desired impression, and, thei-efore, 
 all he had to acquire was manual dexterity. In perfect silence, 
 without looking to the riglit hand or to the left, heedless of the 
 sayings and doings of the other apprentices, tiioiigh tliey were bent 
 on mischief, and tried to attract and distract his attention, Hor- 
 ace worked on, hour after hour, all tiiut day; and wlicn he left the 
 office at nigtit could set tyjjo better and faster than many an ap- 
 prentice who had had a month's practice. The next day, he worked 
 with the same silence and intensity. The boys were puzzled. 
 They thouglit it absohitely incumbent on them to perform an initiat- 
 ing rite of some kind ; but the new boy gave them no handle, 
 no excuse, no opening. He committed no greenness, he spoke to no 
 one, looked at no one, seemed utterly oblivious of every thing save 
 only his copy and his type. They threw type at him, but he never 
 looked around. Tiiey talked saucily at him, but he threw back no 
 retort. Tiiis would never do. Towards the close of the third day, 
 
HIS employer's recollections of him. S9 
 
 tie oldest apprentices took one of the liirge black balls witli which 
 piiatei-s used to dab the ink upou the type, aud remarking that in 
 his opinion Horace's hair was of too light a hue for so black an 
 an as that which he had undertaken to learn, applied the ball, 
 well inked, to Horace's head, umking four distinct dabs. The bovs, 
 the journeyman, the pressman and the editor, all paused in their 
 Avork to observe the result of this experiment. Horace neither 
 spote nor moved. He went on with his work as though nothing 
 had happened, and soon after went to the tavern where he boarded, 
 and ipent an hour in puritying his dishonored locks. And that was 
 all the 'fun ' the boys 'got out' of their new companion on that 
 occaskm. Tliey were conquered. In a few days the victor and the 
 vanquished were excellent friends. 
 
 Hortce was now fortunately situated. Ampler means of acquir- 
 ing kncwledge were within liis reach than he had ever before en- 
 joyed ; nor were there wanting opportunities for the display of his 
 acquisitions and the exercise of his powers. 
 
 "About this time," writes Mr. Bliss, " a soviud, well-read theologian and a 
 practical pjiiiter was employed to edit and conduct the paper. This opened a 
 desirable sctool for intellectual culture to our young debutant. Debates en- 
 sued ; historical, political, and religious questions were discussed ; aud often 
 while all hanls were engaged at the font of typ^ ; aud here the purpose for 
 •which our yo ang aspinvnt ' had read some ' was made manifest. Such was 
 the correctness of his memory in what he had read, in both biblical and pro- 
 fane history, that the reverend gentleman was often put at fault by his correc- 
 tions. He ahvavs quoted chapter and verse to prove the point in dispute. On 
 one occasion the editor said that money was the root of all evil, when he was 
 corrected by the 'devil,' who said he believed it read Lu the Bible that the lore 
 of money was the root of all evil. 
 
 " A small town library gave him access to books, by which, together wiih 
 the reading of the e.xchang© papers of the office, he improved all his leisure 
 hours. He became a frequent talker in our village lyeeum, and often wrote 
 dissertations. 
 
 '"In the first organization of our village temperance society, the question 
 arose as to the age wht-n the young might become members. Fearing lest his 
 own age might bar him, he moved that thoy be received when they were old 
 enough to drink — which was adopted nein. con. 
 
 "Though modest and retiring, he was often led into political discu.-isions 
 with our ablest politicians, and few would leave the field without feeling in- 
 
00 ArPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 Etructed by the soundness of bis views and the unerring correctness of \\a 
 statements of political events. 
 
 " Having a thirst for knowledge, he bent his mind and all his energies to its 
 acquisition, with unceasing application and untiring devotion ; and I doubt if, 
 in the whole term of his apprenticeship, he ever spent an hour in the common 
 recreations of young men. He used to pass my door as he went to his daily 
 meals, and though I often sat near, or stood in the way, so much absorbed did 
 he appear in his own thoughts — his head bent forward and his eyes fixed 
 upon the ground, that I have the charity to believe the reason why he never 
 turned his head or gave me a look, was because he had no idea I was 
 there !" 
 
 On one point the reminiscences of Mr. Bliss require correction. 
 He thinks that his apprentice never spent an hour in the common 
 recreations of young men during liis residence in Poultne;'. Mr. 
 Bliss, however, was his senior and his employer ; and therefore 
 observed him at a distance and from above. But I, who have con- 
 versed with those who were the friends and acquaintances of the 
 youth, can tell a better story. He had a remarkable fondness for 
 games of mingled skill and chance, such as whist, draugiits, chess, 
 and others ; and the office was never without its dingy pack of 
 cards, carefully concealed from the reverend editor and the serious 
 customers, but brouglit out from its hiding-place whenever the 
 coast was clear and the boys had a leisure hour. Horace never 
 gambled, nor would he touch the cards on Sunday ; but the delight 
 of playing a game occasionally was heightened, perhaps, by the fact 
 that m East Poultney a pack of cards was regarded as a thing ac- 
 cursed, not fit for saintly hands to touch. Bee-hunting, too, con- 
 tinued to be a favorite amusement with Horace. " He was always 
 ready for a bee-hunt," says one who knew him well in Poultney, 
 and bee-hunted with him often in the woods above the village. To 
 finish with this matter of amusement, I may mention that a danc- 
 ing-school was held occasionally at the village-tavern, and Horace 
 was earnestly (ironically, perhaps) urged to join it; but he refused. 
 Not that he disapproved of the dance — that best of all home recrea- 
 tions — but he fancied he was not exactly the figure for a quadrille. 
 He occasionally looked in at the door of the dancing-room, but 
 never could be prevailed upon to enter it. 
 
 Until ho came to live at Poultney, Horace had never tried his hand 
 
JOINS A DEBATING SOCIETY. 91 
 
 nt original composition. '^1.2 injurious practice of writing ' cornpo- 
 sitious' was not ainong the exercises of any of the schools wliicli ho 
 had attended. At Poultney, very early in his apprenticeship, he 
 began, not indeed to write, but to compose paragraphs for the [la- 
 per as he stood at the desk, and to set them in type as he composed 
 them. They were generally items of news condensed frcjin large 
 articles in the exchange papers ; but occasionally he composed an 
 original paragraph of some length ; and he continued to render edi- 
 torial assistance of this kind all the Avhilc he remained in the otlice. 
 The ' Northern Spectator' was an ' Adams paper,' and Horace was 
 an Adams man. 
 
 The Debating Society, to which Mr. Bliss alludes, was an impor- 
 tant feature in the life of East Poultney. There happened to be 
 among the residents of the place, during the apprenticeship of Hor- 
 ace Greeley, a considerable number of intelligent men, men of some 
 knowledge and talent— the editor of the paper, the village doctor, 
 a county judge, a clergyman or two, two or three persons of some 
 political eminence, a few well-informed mechanics, farmers, and 
 others. These gentlemen had formed themselves into a ' Lyceum,' 
 before the arrival of Horace, and the Lyceum had become so 
 famous in the neighborhood, that people frequently came a distance 
 of ten miles to attend its meetings. It assembled weekly, in the 
 winter, at the little brick school-house. An original essay was read 
 by the member whose ' turn ' it was to do so, and then the question 
 of the evening was debated ; first, by four members who had been 
 designated at the previous meeting, and after they had each spoken 
 once, the question was open to the whole society. The questions 
 were mostly of a very innocent and rudimental character, as, ' Is 
 novel-reading injurious to society ?' ' Has a person a right to take 
 life in self-defense ?' 'Is marriage conducive to happiness?' 'Do 
 we, as a nation, exert a good moral influence in the world V ' Do 
 either of the great parties of the day carry out the principles of the 
 Declaration of Independence ?' ' Is the Union likely to be perpetu- 
 ated ?' ' Was Napoleo'i Bonaparte a great man V ' Is it a person's 
 doty to take the temperance pledge ?' et cetera. 
 
 Horace joined the society, the first winter of his residence in 
 Poultney, and, young as he was, soon became one of its leading 
 members. " He was a i ^al giant at the Debating Society," says 
 
92 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 one of Ills early admirers. "Whenever lie was appointed to speak 
 or to read an essay, lie never wanted to be excused; he was always 
 ready. He was exceedingly interested in the questions which he 
 discussed, and stuck to his opinion against all opposition — not dis- 
 courteously, but still Tie stuclc to it, replying with the most perfect 
 assurance to men of high station and of low. He had one advan- 
 tage over all his fellow members; it was his memory. He had read 
 everything, and remembered the minutest details of important 
 events ; dates, names, places, ligures, statistics — nothing had escaped 
 him. He was never treated as a hoy in the society, but as a man 
 and an equal ; and his opinions were considered with as much de- 
 ference as those of the judge or the sheriff — more, I think. To the 
 graces of oratory he made no pretense, but he was a fluent and 
 interesting speaker, and had a way of giving an unexpected turn to 
 the debate by reminding members of a fact, well known but over- 
 looked; or by correcting a misquotation, or by appealing to what 
 are called first principles. He was an opponent to be afraid of; 
 yet his sincerity and his earnestness were so evident, that those 
 whom he most signally floored liked him none the less for it. He 
 never lost his temper. In short, he spoke in bis sixteenth year just 
 as he speaks now ; and when he came a year ago to lecture in a 
 neighboring village, I saw before me the Horace Greeley of the 
 old Poultney 'Forum,' as we called it, and no other." 
 
 It is hardly necessary to record, that Horace never made the 
 slightest preparation for the meetings of the Debating Society in 
 the way of dress — except so far as to put on his jacket. In the 
 summer, he was accustomed to wear, while at work, two garments, 
 a shirt and trowsers; and when the reader con.siders that his trow- 
 eers were very short, his sleeves tucked up above his elbows, his 
 Bliirt open in front, he will have before his mind's eye the picture 
 of a youth attired with extreme simplicity. In his walks about the 
 village, lie added to his dress a straw hat, valued originally at one 
 shilling. In the winter, his clothing was really insufficient. So, at 
 least, tliouglit a kind-hearted lady who used to see him pass her 
 window on his way to dinner. "Ho never," she says, "had an 
 overcoat while he lived here; and I used to pity him so much in 
 cold weather. I remember him as a slender, pale little fellow, 
 younger looking than he really was, in a brown jacket much too 
 
niS FIRST GLIMPSE AT SARATOGA. 03 
 
 short for liim. I used to tliiiik the winds would blow him away 
 BOinetimes, as ho crept along the fence lost in thought, with liis 
 head down, and his hands in his pockets. He was often lauglied 
 at for his homely dress, by the boys. Once, when a very interest- 
 ing question was to be debated at the school-house, a young man 
 who was noted among us for the elegance of his dress and the 
 length of his account at the store, advised Horace to get a new ' rig 
 out' for the occasion, particularly as he was to lead one of the 
 sides, and an unusually large audience was expected to be present. 
 ' Ko,' said Horace, ' I guess I 'd better wear my old clothes than 
 run in debt for new ones.' " 
 
 Now, forty dollars a year is sufBcieut to provide a boy in the 
 country with good and substantial clotiiing; half the sum will keep 
 him warm and decent. The reader, therefore, may be inclined to 
 censure the young debater for his apparent parsimony; or worse, for 
 an insolent disregard of the feelings of others; o\\tcorst^ for a pride 
 that aped humility. The reader, if that be the present inclintiliou 
 of his mind, will perhaps experience a revulsion of feeling when he 
 is informed — as I now do inform him, and on the best autliority-- 
 that every dollar of the apprentice's little stipend which he could 
 save by the most rigid economy, was piously sent to his father, who 
 was struggling in the wilderness on the other side of the Alleghanies, 
 with the difficulties of a new farm, and an insufficient capital. 
 And this w;is the practice of Horace Greeley during all tiie years 
 of his apprenticeship, and for years afterwards ; as long, in fact, as 
 his father's land was unpaid for and inadequately provided with 
 implements, buildings, and stock. At a time when fdial piety may 
 bo reckoned among the extinct virtues, it is a pleasure to record a 
 fact like this. 
 
 Twice, during his residence at Ponltney, Horace visited his 
 parents in Pennsylvania, six hundred miles distant, walking a great 
 part of the way, and accomplishing the rest on a slow canal boat. 
 On one of these tedious journeys he first saw Saratoga, a circum- 
 stance to which he alluded seven years after, in a fanciful epistle, 
 written from that famous watering-place, and published in the 
 "New Yorker": 
 
 '■Saratoga! bright city of *.ho present! tliou ever-during onc-and-twenty 
 
94 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 of existence ! a wanderer by thy stately palaces and gushing fountains salutes 
 thee ! Years, yet not many, have elapsed since, a weary reamer from a dis- 
 tant land, he first sought thy health-giving waters. NovemiDer's sky was 
 over earth and him, and more than all, over thee ; and its chilling blasts 
 made mournful melody amid the waving branches of thy ever verdant pines. 
 Then, as now, thou wert a City of Tombs, deserted by the gay throng whose 
 light laughter re-echoes so joyously through thy summer-robed arbors. But 
 to him, thou wert ever a fairy land, and he wished to quaff of thy Hygeian 
 treasures as of the nectar of the poet's fables. One long and earnest draught, 
 ere its sickening disrelish came over him, and he flung down the cup in the 
 bitterness of disappointment and disgust, and sadly addressed him again to 
 his pedestrian journey. Is it ever thus with thy castles. Imagination ? thy 
 pictures, Fancy 1 thy dreams, Hope ? Perish the unbidden thought ! A 
 health, in sparkling Congress, to tlie rainbow of life ! even though its prom- 
 ise prove as shadowy as the baseless fabric of a vision. Better even the 
 dear delusion of Hope — if delusion it must be — than the rugged reality of 
 listless despair. (I think I could do this better in rhyme, if I had not tres- 
 passed in that line already. However, the cabin-conversation of a canal- 
 packet is not remarkably favorable to poetry.) In plain pro,«e, there is a 
 great deal of mismanagement about this same village of Saratoga The sea- 
 son gives up the ghost too easily," &c., <fcc. 
 
 During the four years that Horace lived at East Poultney, he 
 boarded for some time at the tavern, which still affords entertain- 
 ment for man and beast — i. e. peddler and horse — in that village. 
 It was kept by an estimable couple, who became exceedingly at- 
 tached to their singular guest, and he to them. Tlieir recollections 
 of him are to the following effect :— -Horace at that time ate and 
 drank whatever was placed before him ; he was rather fond of good 
 living, ate furiously, and fast, and much. He was very fond of coffee, 
 but cared little for tea. Every one drank in those days, and there 
 was a great deal of drinking at the tavern, but Horace never could 
 be tempted to taste a drop of anything intoxicating. " I always," 
 said the kind landlady, " took a great interest in young people, and 
 when I saw they were going wrong, it used to distress me, no matter 
 whom they belonged to ; but I never feared for Horace. Whatever 
 might be going on about the village or in the bar-room, I always 
 knew he would do right." He stood on no ceremony at the table ; 
 he fell to without waiting to be asked or helped, devoured every 
 thing right and left, stopped as suddenly as ho had begun, and 
 
THE doctor's story. 05 
 
 ranished instantly. One day, as Horace was stretching Lis long 
 arm over to the other side of the table in quest of a distant dish, 
 the servant, wishing to hint to liini in a jocular manner, that that 
 was not exactly the most proper way of proceeding, said, " Don't 
 tronble yourself, Horace, /want to help you to that dish, for, you 
 know, I have a particular regard for you." He blushed, as only a 
 boy with a very white face can blush, and, thenceforth, was less 
 adventurous in exploring the remoter i)()rlious of the table-cloth. 
 When any topic of interest was started at the table, he joined in it 
 with the utmost confidence, and maintained his opinion against 
 anybody, talking with great vivacity, and never angrily. He came, 
 at length, to be regarded as a sort of Town Encyclopedia, and if 
 any one wanted to know anything, ho went, as a matter of coarse, 
 to Horace Greeley ; and, if a dispute arose between two individuals, 
 respecting a point of history, or politics, or science, they referred it 
 to Horace Greeley, and whomsoever lie declared to be right, was 
 confessed to be the victor in the controversj'. Horace never went 
 to a tea-drinking or a party of any kind, never went on an excur- 
 sion, never slept away from home or was absent from one inea) 
 during the period of his residence at the tavern, except when 
 he went to visit his parents. He seldom went to cliurch, but spent 
 the Sunday, usually, in reading. He was a stanch TJniversalist, a 
 Btanch whig, and a pre-eminently stanch anti-Mason. Thus, the 
 landlord and landlady. 
 
 Mucli of this is curiously confirmed by a story often told in con- 
 vivial moments by a distinguished physician of New York, who 
 on one occasion chanced to witness at the Poultney tavern the ex- 
 ploits, gastronomic and encyclopedic^ to which allusion has just 
 been made. "Did I ever tell yon," lie is wont to begin, " how and 
 where I first saw my friend Horace Greeley ? Well, thus it hap- 
 pened. It was one of the proudest and happiest days of my life. 
 I was a country boy then, a farmer's son, and we lived a few miles 
 from East Poultney. On the day in question I was sent by my 
 father to sell a load of potatoes at the store in East Poultney, and 
 bring back various commodities ui exchange. Now this was the 
 first time, you must know, that I had ever been entrusted with so 
 important an errand. I had been to the village with my father 
 often enough, but now I was to go alone, and I felt as proud and 
 
96 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 independent as a midshipman the first time he goes ashore in coui • 
 mand of a boat. Big with the fate of twenty bushels of potatoes, 
 off I drove — reached the village — sold oui my load — drove round 
 to the tavern — put up my horses, and went in to dinner. This going 
 to the tavern on my own account, all by myself, and paying my own 
 bill, was, I thought, the crowning glory of the whole adventure. 
 There were a good many people at dinner, the sheriff of the county 
 and an ex-member of Congress among them, and I felt considerably 
 abashed at first ; but I had scarcely begun to eat, when my eyes 
 fell upon an object so singular that I could do little else than stare 
 at it all the while it remained in the room. It was a tall, pale, 
 white-haired, gaichy boy, seated at the further end of the table. 
 He was in his shirt-sleeves, and he was eating with a rapidity and 
 awkwardness that I never saw equaled before nor since. It seem- 
 ed as if he was eating for a wager, and had gone in to win. He 
 neither looked up nor round, nor appeared to pay the least attention 
 to the conversation. My first thought was, ' This is a pretty sort 
 of a tavern to let such a fellow as. that sit at the same table with all 
 these gentlemen ; he ought to come in with the hostler.' I thought 
 it strange, too, that no one seemed to notice him, and I supposed 
 he owed his continuance at the table to that circumstance alone. 
 And so I sat, eating little myself, and occupied in watching the won- 
 derful performance of this wonderful youth. At length the conver- 
 sation at the table became quite animated, turning upon some 
 measure of an early Congress ; and a question arose how certain 
 members had voted on its final passage. There Avas a difference 
 of opinion ; and the sheriff, a very finely-dressed personage, I 
 thought, to my boundless astonishment, referred the matter to the 
 unaccountable Boy, saying, 'Aint that right, Greeley?' 'No,' 
 said the Unaccountable, without looking up, 'you 're wrong.' 
 ' There,' said the ex-member, ' I told you so.' ' And you 're 
 wrong, too,' said the still-devouring Mystery. Then he laid down 
 his knife and fork, and gave the history of the measure, explained 
 the state of parties at the time, stated the vote in dispute, named 
 the leading advocates and opponents of the bill, and, in short, gave 
 a complete exposition of the whole matter. I listened and won- 
 dered ; but what surprised me most was, that the company receiv- 
 ed his statement as pure gospel, and as settling the question be- 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF ONE OF HIS FELLOW APPRENTICES. 97 
 
 yond dispute — as a dictionary settles a dispute respecting tlie spell- 
 ing of a Avord. A minute after, tlie boy left tlie dining room, and I 
 never saw hiiTi again, till I met him, years after, in the streets of 
 New York, wlien I claimed acquaintance with him as a brother 
 Vermonter, and told him this siory, to his great amusement." 
 
 One of liis fellow-apprentices favors me with some interesting 
 reminiscences, lie says, '' I was a fellow-apprentice with Horace 
 Greeley at Poultney for nearly two years. We boarded together 
 during that period at four different places, and we were constantly 
 together." The following passage from a letter from this early 
 friend of our hero will be welcome to the reader, notwithstanding 
 its repetitions of a few facts already known to him : — 
 
 Little did tho inhabitants of East Poultney. where Horace Greeley went to 
 reside in April, 1826, as an apprentice to the printing business, dream of the 
 potent influence he was a few years later destined to exert, not only upon the 
 politics of a neighboring State, but upon the noblest and grandest philan- 
 thropic enterprises of the age. Ho was then a remarkably plain-looking unso- 
 phisticated lad of fifteen, with a slouching, careless gait, leaning away for- 
 ward as he walked, as if both his head and his heels wore too heavy for his 
 body. He wore a wool hat of the old stamp, with so small a brim, that it 
 looked more like a two-quart measure inverted than a hat ; and he had a sin- 
 gular, whining voice that provoked the raerrimentof the older apprentices, who 
 had hardly themselves outgrown, in their brief village residence, similar pecu- 
 liarities of country breeding. But the rogues could not help pluming themselves 
 upon their superior manners and position ; and it must be confessed that the 
 young 'stranger ' was mercilessly ' taken in ' by his elders in the ofi3ce, when- 
 ever an opportunity for a practical joke presented itself 
 
 But these things soon passed away, and as Horace was seen to bo an un- 
 usually intelligent and honest lad, he came to be better aji^ireciated. The office 
 in which he was employed was that of tho Northern Spectator, a weekly 
 paper then published by Messrs. Bliss & Dewey, and edited by E. G. Stone, 
 brother to the late Col. Stone of the N. Y. Commercial Adverti.»er. Tho new 
 comer boarded in Mr. Stone's family, by whom ho was well esteemed for his 
 boyish integrity ; and Mr. S. on examination found him better .skilled in Eng- 
 lish grammar, even at that early ago, than were the majority of school teach- 
 ers in those times. His superior intelligence also strongly commended 
 him to the notice of Amos Bli:,s, Esq., one of the firm already mentioned, 
 then and now a higlily-respectablo merchant of East Poultney, who has 
 marked with prido and pleasure every successive step of the ' Westhavon boy,' 
 from that day to this. 
 
 5 
 
98 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 In consequence of the change of proprietors, editors and other things per< 
 taining to the management of the Spectator ofifice, Horace had. during the 
 term of his apprenticeship, about as many opportunities of 'boarding round,' 
 as ordinarily fall to the lot of a country schoolmaster. In 1827, he boarded 
 at the "Eagle tavern,' which was then kept by Mr. Harlow Hosford, and was 
 the head-quarters of social and fashionable life in that pleasant old village. 
 There the balls and village parties were had, there the oysters suppers came 
 off, and there the lawyers, politicians and village oracles nightly congregated. 
 Horace was no hand for ordinary boyish sports ; the rough and tumble games 
 of wrestling, running, etc., he had no relish for ; but he was a diligent student 
 in his leisure hours, and eagerly read everything in the way of books and 
 papers that he could lay his hands on. And it was curious to see what a power 
 of mental application he had — a power which enabled him, seated in the bar- 
 room, (where, perhaps, a dozen people were in earnest conversation,) to pursue 
 undisturbed the reading of his favorite book, whatever it might bo, with evi- 
 dently as close attention and as much satisfaction as if he had been seated 
 alone in his chamber. 
 
 If there ever was a self-made man, this same Horace Greeley is one, for 
 he had neither wealthy or influential friends, collegiate or academic educa- 
 tion, nor anything to start him in the world, save his own native good sense. 
 an unconquerable love of study, and a determination to win his way by his 
 own efforts. He had, however, a natural aptitude for arithmetical calcula- 
 tions, and could easily surpass, in his boyhood, most persons of his age in tho 
 facility and accuracy of his demonstrations; and his knowledge of grammar 
 has been already noted. He early learned to observe and remember politicaJ 
 statistics, and the leading men and measures of the political parties, the v^r 
 rious and multitudinous candidates for governor and Congros.s, not only in » 
 single State, but in many, and finally in all the States, together with th'e lo- 
 cation and vote of this, that, and the other congressional districts, (whig, dero- 
 ocratic and what not,) at all manner of elections. These things he rapidly and 
 easily mastered, and treasured in his capacious memory, till we venture to sa^ 
 he has few if any equals at this time, in this particular department, in thi* 
 or any other country. I never knew but one man who approached him in thia 
 particular, and that was Edwin Williams, compiler of the N. Y. State Reg- 
 ister. 
 
 Another letter from the same friend contains information stiH 
 more vaUiable. "Judging," he writes, "from what I do certainly 
 know of him, I can say that few young men of my acquaintance 
 grew up with so much freedom from everything of a vicious and 
 corrupting nature — so strong a resolution to study everything ip 
 the way of useful knowledge — and such a quick and clear percep 
 
POLITICS OF THE TIME. 90 
 
 tion of the queer ami humorous, whether in print or in actual hfe. 
 nis love of the poets — Byron, Shakspeare, etc., discovered itself iu 
 bo\*Iiood — and often have Greeley and I strolled off into the woods, 
 of a warm day, with a volume of Byron or Campbell in our pockets, 
 and reclining in some shady place, read it off to each other by the 
 hour. In this way, I got such a hold of ' Childe Harold,' tlie ' I'k-as- 
 ures of Hope,' and other favorite poems, that considerable portions 
 have remained ever since in my memory. Byron's apostrophe to 
 the Ocean, and some things in the [-ith] canto relative to tlic men 
 and monuments of ancient Italy, were, if I mistake not, his special 
 favorites — also the famous description of the great conflict at 
 Waterloo. ' Mazeppa ' was also a marked favorite. And for many 
 of Mrs. Hemans' poems he had a deep admiration." 
 
 The letter concludes with an honest burst of indignation; 
 "Knowing Horace Greeley as I do and have done for thirty years, 
 knowing his integrity, purity, and generosity, I can tell you one 
 thing, and that is, that the contempt with which I regard the slan- 
 ders of certain papers with respect to his conduct, and character, is 
 quite inexpressible. There is doubtless a proper excuse for the con- 
 duct of lunatics, mad dogs, and rattlesnakes; but I know of no decent, 
 just, or reasonable apology for such meanness (it is a liard word, but 
 a very expressive one) as the presses alluded to have exhibited." 
 
 Horace came to Poultney, an ardent politician ; and the events 
 which occurred during his apprenticeship were not calculated to 
 moderate his zeal, or weaken his attachment to the party he had 
 chosen. John Quincy Adams was president, Calhoun was vice- 
 president, Henry Clay was secretary of State. It was one of the 
 best and ablest administrations that had ever ruled in "Washington ; 
 and the most unpopular one. It is among the inconveniences of 
 universal suffrage, that the party which comes before the country 
 with the most taking popular Cry is the party which is likeliest to 
 win. During the existence of this administration, the Opposition 
 had a variety of popular Cries which were easy to vociferate, and 
 well adapted to impose on the unthinking, i. e. the majority. 
 'Adams had not been elected by the people.' 'Adams had gained 
 the presidency by a corrupt bargain with Henry Clay.' 'Adams 
 was lavish of the public money.' But of all the Cries of the time, 
 Hurrah for Jackson ' was tlie most cfTective. Jackson was a man 
 
100 APPRENTIOKSHIP, 
 
 of tlie jcoplc. .Tftckson was tlio lioro of New Orleans {.nd the con* 
 quoror of Florida. Jackson was i)lo(lgo(l to rotrencluiiont and 
 reform. Against vociferation of this kind, wliat availed the fnct^ 
 evident, incontrovertible, that the aiVairs of the government were 
 conducted with dignit}', judgment and moderation?— that the coun- 
 try enj(\ved prosperity at home, and the respect of the world? — • 
 that the claims of American citizens against t\)reign governments 
 were prosecuted wilh diligence and success? — that treaties highly 
 advantageous to American interests were negotiated with leadiug 
 nations in Europe and South America? — that the i)ublic revenue 
 was greater than it had ever been before ? — that the resources of 
 the country were nuide accessible by a liberal system of internal 
 improvement? — that, nevertheless, there were surplus millions in 
 the treasury? — that the administration nobly disdained to employ 
 the executive patronage as a means of securing its continuance in 
 power? — All this availed nothing. ' Hurrah for Jackson ' carried the 
 day. The Last of the Oentlcmon of the Kevolutionary school re- 
 tired. The era of wire-i>ul]iiig began. That deadly element was 
 introduced into our political system which rendered it so exquisitely 
 vicious, that thenceforth it worked to corruption by an irresistible 
 necessity! It is called Rotation in Ollice. Tt is embodied in the 
 maxim, 'To the victors belong the spoils.' It has made the Avord 
 office-holder synonymous with the word sneaA'. It has thronged the 
 capital with greedy sycophants. It has made politics a game of 
 cunning, witli enough of chance in it to render it intei-esting to the 
 low crew that play. It has made the president a pawn with which 
 to make the fn-st move — a puppet to keep the people amused while 
 their pockets are picked. It has excluded from the service of the 
 State nearly every man of ability and worth, and enabled bloated 
 ai\d beastly demagogues, without a ray of talent, without a senti- 
 ment of magnanimity, illiterate, vulgar, insensible to shame, to exert 
 a jioiocr in this republic, which its greatest statesmen in their 
 greatest days never wielded. 
 
 In the loud contentions of the ])eriod, the reader can easily be- 
 lieve that our argumentative ap|>rentice took an intense interest. 
 The village of Ejust Poultney ciist little more — if any more-^than 
 half a dozen votes for Jackson, but how nnich this result was owing 
 So the efforts of llorace Greeley cannot now be ascertained. All 
 
THE ANTI-MAKUN KXCITKMKNT. 101 
 
 agree Unit lie eoiilriliiiU'd his lull sliai'o (,i> tlie gciienil liaMiIc wliicli 
 tlic clecl.ii)ii of a rrc.sidoiit. provoUeH. During; tlie wiiolci admiiiis- 
 tratioii uf Adams, Iho revision of tlie tarilV witii a view to tlio bet- 
 ter [irotedioii of Aiiiericaii nianiirncliii'es was ainoiij^ the most 
 in'omiiieiit topics of iiuiiiie uiid private disenssion. 
 
 \t> wa.s about the year 1827 tliat tlio Masonic; exeitemcint arose 
 Military men tell us that the bravest ref^dmciiits are nidijcct to p/iiric 
 KegimentH that bear upon tlieir banners tlio most honorable distine- 
 tions, whoso eolors arc latlcrrd willi (ho biillrts of u hiiiidrcd 
 lights, will on a sudden taller in llio eliargo, and lly, like u pack of 
 cowards, I'roni a danger w hieh a paek of cowards might faee with- 
 out ceasing to be thought cowards. Similar to these caiiseK^ss and 
 irresistible panics of war are (hose fren/ies of foar and l"ury mingled 
 ■wliicli Kometimes eoiiic over (he mind of a iialion, and make it for 
 a time incapable of reason and regardless of justice. Huc-h seems 
 to have been the nature of (he anti-Masonic mania wliiiih raged in 
 the Northern States fnjiii the year 1827. 
 
 A man named Morgan, a i)rinter, had |iublished, for gain, a book 
 in which the IiarmleSH secrets of (he < )rder of IVee M.asnns, of which 
 lie was a member, were divulged. I'ublic, euriosit.y caused (he book 
 to have an immense sale. Soon alU'r i(,s publication, Mor;.';)iii an- 
 nounced another volume wlTudi was to reveal unimagined horrors ; 
 but, before tho book appeared, ^loi'gau disappeared, and neidier 
 ever came to light. N(jw arose the (piesdon, IV/niJ. //eruiiir. of Mor- 
 gan? audit rent the nation, for a time, into two imbiKeicil and 
 angry factions. " Morgan I" Haid the Free Masons, " tha( perjured 
 traitor, died and was buried in tlie natural and ordinary fashion." 
 "Morgan !" said the anti-Masons, " that martyred jiatriot, was drag- 
 ged from his home by Masonic rufllans, taken in (ho dead of night 
 to tho shores of tho Niagara rivcT, murdered, and thrown iii(o (bo 
 rapids." It is impossible for any one to conceive tho utter delirium 
 into which tho i)eoplo in Homo parts of tho coimtry wor^.) thrown iiy 
 the agitation of this subject. JJooks were written. Papers wore 
 estaljlished. Exhibitions were got uji, in which the Masonic cere- 
 monies were caricatured or imitated. Families were divide<l. Fa- 
 thers disinherited their sons, and sons fcjrsook tlieir fathers. Elec- 
 tions wore influenced, not town and county eloc(.ions mortdy, but 
 State and national elections. There wore Masonic candidateit and 
 
102 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 anti-Masonic candidates in every election in the Northern States 
 for at least two years after Morgan vanished. Hundreds of Lodges 
 bowed to the storm, sent in their charters to the central anthority, 
 and voluntarily ceased to exist. There are families now, about the 
 country, in which Masonry is a forbidden topic, because its intro- 
 duction would revive the old quarrel, and turn the peaceful tea-table 
 into a scene of hot and interminable contention. There are still old 
 ladies, male and female, about the country, who will tell you with 
 grim gravity that, if you trace up Masonry, through all its Ordere, 
 till you come to the grand, tip-top, Head Mason of the world, you 
 will discover that that dread individual and the Chief of tlie Society 
 of Jesuits are one and the same Person ! 
 
 I have been tempted to use tlie word ridiculous in connection 
 with this aflair; and looking back upon it, at the distance of a 
 quarter of a century, ridiculous seems a proper word to apply to it. 
 But it did not seem ridiculous then. It had, at least, a serious side. 
 It was believed among the anti-Masons that the Masons were bound 
 to protect one another in doing injustice ; even the commission of 
 treason and murder did not, it was said, exclude a man from the 
 shelter of his Lodge. It was alleged that a Masonic jury dared not, 
 or would not, condemn a prisoner who, after the fullest proof of his 
 guilt had been obtained, made the Masonic sign of distress. It was 
 asserted that a judge regarded the oath which made him a Free 
 Ma'son as more sacred and more binding than that which admitted 
 him to the bench. It is in vain, said the anti-Masons, for one oiua 
 to seek justice against a Mason, for a jury cannot be obtained with- 
 out its share of Masonic members, and a court cannot be found 
 without its Masonic judge. 
 
 Our ai)prentice embraced the anti-Masonic side of this contro- 
 versy, and embraced it warmly. It was natural that he should. 
 It was inevitable that he should. And for the next two or three 
 years he expended more breath in denouncing the Order of the 
 Free-Masons, than upon any other subject — perhaps than all other 
 subjects put together. To this day secret societies are his special 
 aversion. 
 
 But we must hasten on. Horace had soon learned his trade. He 
 became the best hand in the office, and rendered important assist- 
 ance in editing the paper. Some numbers were almost entirely his 
 
INVENTORY OF HIS POSSESSIONS. 103 
 
 work. But tliere was ill-luck about the little establishment. Several 
 times, as we have seen, it changed proprietors, but none of them 
 could make it prosper; and, at lengtli, in the month of June, 1830, 
 the second month of the api)rentice's fifth year, the Northern 
 Spectator was discontinued ; the printing-oflice was broken up, and 
 the apprentice, released from his engagement, became his own mas- 
 ter, free to wander whithersoever he could pay his passage, and to 
 work for whomsoever would employ him. 
 
 Ilis possessions at this crisis were— a knowledge of the art of 
 printing, an extensive and very miscellaneous library in his mem- 
 ory, a wardrobe that could be stuffed into a pocket, twenty dollars 
 in cash, and — a sore leg. The article last luxmed played too serious 
 a part in the history of its proprietor, not to be mentioned in the 
 inventory of his property, lie had injured lii.s leg a year before in 
 stepijing from a box, and it troubled him, more or less, for three 
 years, swelling occasionally to four times its natural size, and oblig- 
 ing him to stand at his work, with the leg pro[)ped up in a most 
 horizontal and imcomfort;ible position. It was a tantalizing feature 
 of the case that he could walk without much difliculty, but stand- 
 ing was torture. As a printer, he had no i)articular ocuision to 
 walk ; and by standing he was to gain his subsistence. 
 
 Horace Greeley was no longer a Boy. His figure and the ex- 
 pression of his countenance were still singularly youthful ; but ho 
 Avas at the beginning of his twentieth year, and ho was henceforth 
 to confront the world as a man. So far, his life had been, upon the 
 whole, peaceful, happy and fortunate, and he had advanced towards 
 bis object without interruption, and with sufficient rapidity. Uis 
 constitution, originally weak, Labor and Temperance had rendered 
 capable of great endurance. His mind, originally apt and active, 
 incessant reading had stored with much that is most valuable 
 among the discoveries, the thoughts, and the fancies of past genera- 
 tions. In the conflicts of the Debating Society, the printing-office, 
 and the tavern, he had exercised his powers, and tried the correct- 
 ness of his opinions. If his knowledge was incomijlete, if there 
 were wide domains of knowledge, of which he had little more than 
 heard, yet what he did know he knew well ; he had learned it, not 
 as a task, but because he wanted to hnow it; it partook of tho 
 vitality of his own mind ; it was his own, and lie could use it. 
 
104 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 If there had been a People's College, to which the new eman- 
 cipated apprentice could have gone, and where, earning his subsist- 
 ence by the exercise of his trade, he could have spent half of each 
 day for the next two years of his life in the systematic study of 
 Language, History and Science, under the guidance of men able to 
 guide him aright, undei* the influence of women capable of attracting 
 his regard, and worthy of it — it had been well. But there was not 
 then, and there is not now, an institution that meets the want and 
 the need of such as he. 
 
 At any momenf there are ten thousand young men and women 
 in this country, strong, intelligent, and poor, who are about to go 
 forth into the world ignorant, who would gladly go forth instruct- 
 ed, if they could get knowledge, and earn it as they get it, by the 
 labor of their hands. They are the sons and daughters of our farm- 
 ers and mechanics. They are the very elite among the youug 
 people of the nation. There is talent, of all kinds and all degrees, 
 among them — talent, that is the nation's richest possession — talent, 
 that could bless and glorify the nation. Should there not be — caii 
 there not be, somewhere in this broad land, a Univeesitt-Tow:n^ — 
 where all trades could be carried on, all arts practiced, all knowl- 
 edge accessible, to Avhich those who have a desire to become ex- 
 cellent in their culling, and those who have an aptitude for art, and 
 those who have fallen in love with knowledge, could accomplish 
 the wish of their hearts without losing their independence, without 
 becoming paupers, or prisoners, or debtors? Surely such a University 
 for the People is not an impossibility. To found such an institu- 
 tion, or assemblage of institutions — to find out the conditions upon 
 which it could exist and prosper — were not an easy task. A Com- 
 mittee could not do it, nor a 'Board,' nor a Legislature. It is 
 an enterprise for One Man— a man of boundless disinterestedness, 
 of immense administrative and constructive talent, fertile in ex- 
 pedients, courageous, persevering, physically strong, and morally 
 great — a man born for his work, and devoted to it ' with a quiet, 
 deep enthusiasm'. Give such a man the indispensable land, and 
 twenty-five years, and the People's College would be a dream no 
 more, but a triumphant and imitdble reality; and the founder 
 thereof would have done a deed compared with which, either 
 
A people's college. 105 
 
 for its difficulty or for its results, sucli triiuniihs as tlioso of Traf- 
 algar and Waterloo would not bo wortliy of ineutiou. 
 
 Tliere have been self-sustaining monasteries! Will tbere never 
 be self-sustaining colleges? Is there anything like an inherent 
 impossihili/j/ m a thousand men and women, in the fresh strength 
 of youth, capable of a just subordination, working together, each 
 for all and all for each, witli the assistance of steam, machinery, 
 and a thousand fertile acres — earning a subsistence l)y a few hours' 
 labor per day, and securing, at least, half their time for the acqui- 
 sition of the art, or the language, or the science which they prefer? 
 I think not. We are at ]iresent a nation of ignoramuses, our ig- 
 norance rendered only tlie more conspicuous and misleading, by the 
 faint intimations of knowledge which we acquire at our schools. 
 Are we to remain such for ever ? 
 
 But if Horace (irccloy derived no help from schools and teachers, 
 he received no harm from tliem. lie finished his apprenticeship, 
 an nncontaininated young man, with the means of independence 
 at his finger-ends, ashamed of no honest employment, of no decent 
 habitation, of no cleanly garb. "There are un}ia[)py times," says 
 Mr. Carlyle, " in the world's history, when he that is least educated 
 will chiefly have to say that he is least perverted; and, with tiio 
 multitude of false eye-glasses, convex, concave, green, or even 
 yellow, Jias not lost the natural vse of Ma eycnr " How were it," 
 he asks, "if we surmised, that for a man gifted witli natnral vigor, 
 with a man's character to be developed in him, more especially if 
 in the way of literature, as thiidcer and writer, it is actually, in 
 these strange days, no special misfortune to be trained up among 
 the uneducated classes, and not among the educated ; but rather, 
 of the two misfortunes, the smaller?" And again, ho observes, 
 " The grand result of schooling is a mind with just vision to discern, 
 with free force to do ; tho grand Bchoolmaster is pkaotioe." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HE WANDEES, 
 
 'i^dce iv..>vs i?oiu;<iey— Hia first Overcoat— Home to his Father's Log House— Ranges 
 Ae tou..t>j foi work — The Sore Leg Cured — Gets Employment, but little Money— 
 AoiOiiisrfe;. Iiie Draught-Players— Goes to Erie, Pa.— Interview with, an Editor — 
 BbC0,.ies a Joui ner, man in tlie Office— Description of Erie— The Lake— His Generos- 
 ity to his Father- His New Clothes— No more work at Erie— Starts for New 
 York. 
 
 ""Well, Horace, and where are you going now?" asked the kind 
 Lndlady of the tavern, as Horace, a few days after the closing of 
 the printing-office, appeared on the piazza, equipped for the road — 
 i. e., with his jacket on, and with his bundle and his stick in his 
 hand. 
 
 " I am going," was the prompt and sprightly answer, " to Penn- 
 sylvania, to see my father, and there I shall stay till my leg gets 
 well." 
 
 With these words, Horace laid down tlie bundle and the stick, 
 and took a seat for the last time on that piazza, the scene of many 
 a peaceful triumph, where, as Political Gazetteer, he had often giren 
 the information that he alone, of all the town, could give ; where, 
 as political partisan, he had often brouglit an antagonist to extrem- 
 ities ; where, as oddity, he had often fixed the gaze and twisted the 
 neck of the passing peddler. 
 
 And was there no demonstration of feeling at the departure of 
 so distinguished a personage ? There Avas. But it did not take 
 the form of a silver dinner-service, nor of a gold tea ditto, nor of a 
 piece of plate, nor even of a gold pen, nor yet of a series of reso- 
 lutions. While Horace sat on the piazza, talking with his old 
 friends, who gathered around him, a meeting of two individuals 
 was held in the corner of the bar-room. They were the landlord 
 and one of his boarders ; and the subject of their deliberations 
 were, an old brown overcoat belonging to the latter. The land- 
 lord had the floor^ and his speect Avas to the following purport : — 
 
[YOr.VG GREELEY'S ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK.] 
 
HORACE LEAVES POCLTNEY. 107 
 
 " He felt like doing soractliing for Horace before he went. Horace 
 was an entirely unspeakable person. He had lived a long time in 
 the house ; he had never given any trouble, and we feel for him 
 as for our own son. Now, there is that brown over-coat of yours. 
 It 's cold on the canal, all the sunuuer, in the mornings and even- 
 ings. Horace is poor and his father is poor. You are owing me 
 a little, as much as the old coat is worth, and what I say is, let ua 
 give the poor fellow the overcoat, and call our account squared." 
 This feeling oration was received with every demonstration of ap 
 proval, and the proposition was carried into eifect forthwith. The 
 landlady gave him a pocket Bible. In a few minutes more, Horace 
 I'ose, put his stick through his little red bundle, and botli over his 
 shoulder, took the overcoat upon his other arm, said ' Good-by,' 
 to his friends, promised to write as soon as he was settled again, 
 and set off upon his long journey. His good friends of the tavern 
 followed him with their eyes, until a turn of the road hid the bent 
 and shambling figure from their sight, and then they turned away 
 to praise him and to wish him well. Twenty-five years have 
 passed ; and, to this hour, they do not tell the tale of his departure 
 without a certain swelling of the heart, without a certain glistening 
 of the softer pair of eyes. 
 
 It was a fine, cool, breezy morning in the month of June, 1830. 
 Nature had assumed those robes of brilliant green which she wears 
 only in June, and welcomed the wanderer forth with that heavenly 
 smile which plays upon her changeful countenance only wlien she 
 is attired in her best. Deceptive smile ! The forests upon those 
 hills of hilly Rutland, brimming with foliage, concealed their granite 
 ribs, their cbasnis, their steeps, their precipices, their morasses, and 
 the reptiles that lay coiled among them ; but they were there. So 
 did the alluring aspect of the world hide from the wayfarer the 
 struggle, the toil, the danger that await the man who goes out from 
 his seclusion to confront the world alone — the world of which he 
 knows nothing except by hearsay, that cares nothing for him, and 
 takes no note of his arrival. The present wayfarer was destined to 
 be quite alone in his conflict with the world, and he was destiricd to 
 wrestle with it for many years before it yielded him anything more 
 than a show of submission. How prodigal of help is the Devil to 
 bis scheming and guileful servants ! But the Powers Celestial — 
 
lOS HE WANDERS. 
 
 they love their chosen too wisely and too well to diminish by cue 
 care the burthen that makes them strong, to lessen by one pang the 
 agony that makes them good, to prevent one mistake of tlie folly 
 that makes them wise. 
 
 Light of heart and step, the traveler walked on. In the after- 
 noon he reached Comstock's Fording, fourteen miles from Poultney ; 
 thence, partly on canal-boat and partly on foot, he went to Schenec- 
 tady, and there took a ' line-boat' on the Erie Canal. A week of 
 tedium in the slow line-boat — a walk of a hundred miles through the 
 woods, and he had reached his father's log-house. He arrived late in' 
 the evening. The last ten miles of the journey he performed after 
 dark, guided, when he could catch a glimpse of it through the 
 dense foliage, by a star. The journey required at that time about 
 twelve days : it is now done in eighteen hours. It cost Horace 
 Greeley about seven dollars ; the present cost by railroad is eleven 
 dollars ; distance, six hundred^miles. 
 
 He found his father and brother transformed into backwoodsmen. 
 Their little log-cabin stood in the midst of a narrow clearing, which 
 was covered with blackened stumps, and smoked with burning tim- 
 ber. Forests, dense and almost unbroken, heavily timbered, abound- 
 ing in wolves and every other description of ' varmint,' extended a 
 day's journey in every direction, and in some directions many days' 
 journey. The country was then so wild and ' new,' that a hunter would 
 sell a man a deer before it was shot ; and appointing the hour when, 
 and the spot where, the buyer was to call for his game, would have 
 it ready for him as punctually as though he had ordered it at Fulton 
 market. The wolves were so bold, that their bowlings could be 
 heard at the house as they roamed about in packs in search of the 
 sheep ; and the solitary camper-out could hear them breathe and see 
 their eye-baUs glare, as they prowled about his smoldering fire. 
 Mr. Greeley, who had brought from Vermont a fondness fur rearing 
 sheep, tried to continue that branch of rural occupation in the wil- 
 derness ; but after the wolves, in spite of his utmost care and pre- 
 caution, had killed a hundred sheep for him, he gave up the at- 
 tempt. But it was a level and a very fertile region — ' varmint' al- 
 ways select a good ' location' — and it has since been subdued into a 
 beautiful land of grass and woods. 
 
 Horace staid at home foi several weeks, assisting his father, 
 
GETS EMPLOYMENT. 10& 
 
 fishing occasionally, and otlierwise amusing hiiri.-4elf : while his good 
 mother assiduously nursed the sore leg. It healed too slowly for its 
 impatient propi-ietor, who had learned ' to labor,' not ' to wait ;' 
 and so, one morning, he walked over to Jamestown, a town twenty 
 miles distant, where a newspaper was struggling to get published, 
 and applied for work. Work he obtained. It was very freely 
 given ; but at the end of the week the workman received a promise 
 to pay, but no payment. He Avaited and worked four days longer, 
 and discovering by that time that there was really no money to be 
 had or hoped for in Jamestown, he walked home again, as poor as 
 before. 
 
 And now tlie damaged leg began to swell again prodigiously ; at 
 one tiiue it was as large below the knee as a demijohn. Cut off from 
 other employment, Horace devoted all liis attention to the unfortu- 
 nate member, but without result. He heard about this time of a 
 famous doctor wlio lived in that town of Pennsylvania which 
 exulta in the singular name of ' Xorth-East,' distant twenty -five 
 miles from his fatlier's clearing. To him, as a last resort, though 
 the family could ill afford the trifling expense, Horace went, and 
 staid with him a month. " You don't drink liquor," were the 
 doctor's first words as he examined the sore, "if you did, you'd 
 have a bad leg of it." The patient thouglit he Imd a bad leg of it, 
 without drinking liquor. The doctor's treatment was skillful, and 
 finally successful. Among other remedies, he subjected the limb to 
 the action of electricity, and from that day the cure began. The 
 patient left North-East greatly relieved, and though the leg was 
 weak and troublesome for many more months, yet it gradually re- 
 covered, the wound subsiding at length into a long red scar. 
 
 He wandered, next, in an easterlj' direction, in search of employ- 
 ment, and found it in the village of Lodi, fifty miles off, in Cata- 
 raugus county. New York. At Lodi, he seems to have cherished 
 a hope of being able to remain awhile and earn a little money. 
 He wrote to his friends in Poultney describing tlie paper on wiiich 
 he worked, "as a Jackson paper, a forlorn aflair, else I would have 
 Bent you a few numbers." One of his letters written from Lodi to 
 a friend in Vermont, contains a passage which may serve to show 
 what was going on in the mind of the printer as he stood at the 
 case setting up Jacksonian paragraphs. " You are aware tjiat an 
 
110 HE WANDERS. 
 
 important election is close at hand in this State, and of course, a 
 great deal of interest is felt in the result. The regular Jacksonians 
 imagine that they will be able to elect Throop by 20,000 majority ; 
 but after having obtained all the information I can, I give it as my 
 decided opinion, that if none of the candidates decline, we shall 
 elect Francis Granger, governor. This county will give him 1000 
 majority, and I estimate his vote in the State at 125,000. I need 
 not inform you that such a result will bo highly satisfactory to your 
 humble servant, H. CJreeley.'' It was a result, however, which ho 
 had not the satisfaction of contemplating. The confident and yet 
 cautious nuiuuer of the passjxge quoted is amusing in a politician 
 but twenty years of age. 
 
 At Lodi, as at Jamestown, our roving journeyman found work 
 much more abundant than money. Moreover, he was in the camp 
 of the enemy ; and so at the end of his sixth Aveek, he again took 
 bundle and stick and marched homeward, with very little more 
 money in his pocket than if he had spent his time in idleness. On his 
 tvay home he foil in with an old Poultney friend who had recently 
 lettled in the wilderness, and Horace arrived iu time to assist at 
 ':he ' warming' of the new cabin, a duty which he perfornuHl in a 
 nay that covered him with glory. 
 
 In the course of the evening, a draught-board was introduced, 
 and the stranger beat in swift succession half a dozen of the best 
 players in the neighborhood. It happened that the place was rather 
 noted for its skillful draught-players, and the game was played in- 
 cessantly at private houses and at public. To be beaten in so scan- 
 dalous a manner by a passing stranger, and he by no means an 
 ornamental addition to an evening party, and young enough to be 
 the son of some of the vanquished, nettled them not a little. They 
 challenged the victor to another encounter at the tavern on the nest 
 evening. The challenge was accepted. The evening arrived, and 
 there was a considerable gathering to witness and take part in the 
 struggle — among the rest, a certain Joe Wilson who had been spe- 
 cially sent for, and whom no one had ever beaten, since he came 
 into the settlement. The great Joe was held in reserve. The party 
 of the previous evening, Horace took in turn, and beat with ease. 
 Other players tried to foil his 'Yankee tricks,' but were themselves 
 foiled. The reserve was bi-ought up. Joe AYilsou took his seat at 
 
GOES TO ERIE, PA. Ill 
 
 the table. He played Lis deadliest, pausing long before be hazarded 
 ft move; the company hanging over the board, bushed and anxious. 
 They were not kept many minutes in suspense ; Joe was overthrown; 
 the unornamental stranger was the conqueror. Another game — 
 the same result. Another and another and another ; but Joe lost 
 every game. Joseph, however, was too good a player not to re- 
 spect .so potent an antagonist, and be and all the party behaved well 
 under their discomfiture. The board was laid aside, and a lively 
 conversation ensued, which was continued ' with unabated spirit to 
 a late hour.' The next morning, the traveler went on bis way, leav- 
 ing beldiid him a most distinguished reputation as a draught-player 
 and a politician. 
 
 He remained at home a few days, and then set out again on his 
 travels in search of some one who could pay him wages for his 
 work. lie took a 'bee line' through the woods for the town of 
 Erie, thirty miles off, on the shores of the great lake. He bad ex- 
 hausted tiie smaller towns ; Erie was the last possible move in OmI 
 corner of the board ; and upon Erie he fixed his hopes. There were 
 two printing offices, at that time, in the place. It was a town of 
 five thousand inhabitants, and of extensive lake and inland trade. 
 
 The gentleman still lives who saw the weary pedestrian enter 
 Erie, attired in the homespun, abbreviated and stockingless style 
 witli which the reader is already acquainted. His old black felt hat 
 slouched down over his shoulders in the old fashion. The red cot- 
 ton handkerchief still contained his wardrobe, and it was carried 
 on the same old stick. The country frequenters of Erie were then, 
 and are still, particularly rustic in appearance ; but our hero seemed 
 the very embodiment and incarnation of the rustic Principle ; and 
 among the crowd of Pennsylvania farmers that thronged the streets, 
 he swung along, pre-eminent and peculiar, a marked person, the 
 observed of all observers. He, as was his wont, observed nobody, 
 but went at once to the office of the Erie Gazette, a weekly paper, 
 published then and still by Joseph M. Sterrett. 
 
 ''I was not," Judge Sterrett is accustomed to relate, "I was not 
 in the printing oflBce when be arrived. I came in, soon after, and 
 saw him sitting at the table reading the newspapers, and so absorbed 
 in them that be paid no attention to my entrance. My first feeling 
 warf ore of astonishment, that a fellow so singularly 'green ' in h'w 
 
112 HE WANDERS. 
 
 appearance sliotikl be reading^ and above all, reading so intently 
 I looked at him for a few moments, and then, finding that he made 
 no movement towards acquainting me with his business, I took up 
 my composing stick and went to work, lie continued to read for 
 twenty minutes, or more ; when he got up, and coming close to my 
 case, asked, in liis peculiar, whining voice, 
 
 "Do you Avant any help in the printing business?" 
 
 "Why," said I, running my eye involuntarily up and down the 
 extraordinary figure, "did you ever work at tlie trade?" 
 
 " Yes," was the reply ; " I worked some at it in an office in Ver- 
 mont, and I should be willing to work under instruction, if you 
 could give me a job." 
 
 Now Mr. Sterrett did want help in the printing business, and 
 could have given him a job; but, unluckily, he misinterpreted this 
 modest reply. He at once concluded that the timid applicant was 
 a runaway apprentice; and runaway apprentices are a class of their 
 fellow-creatures to whom employers cherish a common and decided 
 aversion. "Without communicating his suspicions, he merely said 
 that he had no occasion for further assistance, and Horace, without 
 a word, left the apartment. 
 
 A similar reception and the same result awaited him at the other 
 office ; and so the poor wanderer trudged home again, not in the 
 best spirits. 
 
 "Two or three weeks after this interview," continues Judge 
 Sterrett— he M a judge, I saw him on the bench — "an acquaint- 
 ance of mine, a farmer, called at the office, and inquired if I want- 
 ed a journeyman. I did. He said a neighbor of his had a son 
 who learned the printing business somewhere Down East, and 
 wanted a place. 'What sort of a looking fellow is he?' said I. 
 He described liim, and I knew at once that he was my supposed 
 runaway apprentice. My friend, the ftirmer, gave him a high char 
 acter, however ; so I said, ' Send him along,' and a day or two 
 after along he came." 
 
 The terms on wliich Horace Greeley entered the office of the 
 Erie Gazette were of his own naming, and therefore peculiar. He 
 would do the best he could, he said, and Mr. Sterrett might pay 
 him what he (Mr. Sterrett) thought he had earned. He had only 
 one request to make, and that was, that he should not be required 
 
THE TOWN OF ERIE. 113 
 
 tf work at the press, unless the office was so niucli liniried tl/at his 
 services in that department couki not be dispensed with. lie liad 
 had a little difficulty with liis leg, and press work ratlier hurt him 
 than otlierwise. The bargain included the condition that he was to 
 board at Mr. Sterrett's house ; and when he went to dinner on the 
 (lay of his arrival, a lady of the family expressed her opinion of 
 him in the following terms: — " So, Mr. Sterrett, you 've hired that 
 fellow to work for you, have you? "Well, you won't keep liim three 
 days." In tiiree' days she had changed her opinion; and to this 
 hour the good lady cannot bring herself to speak otherwise than 
 kindly of him, though she is a stanch daughter of turbulent Erie, 
 and '■must say, tliat certain articles which appeared in the Tribune 
 during the War, did really seem too bad from one who had been 
 himself an Eriean.' But then, 'he gave no more trouble in the 
 house tlian if lie had n't been in it.' 
 
 Erie, famous in the Last War but one, as the port whence Com- 
 modore Perry sailed out to victory — Erie, famous in the last war 
 of all, as the place where the men, except a traitorous thirteen, and 
 the women, except their faithful wives, all rose as One Man against 
 the Eailway Trains, saying, in the tone which is generally described 
 as ' not to be misunderstood ' : " Thus fsir shalt thou go without 
 stopping for refreshment, and no farther," and achieved as Break 
 of Gauge men, the distinction accorded in anotlier land to the 
 Break o' Day boys — Erie, which boasts of nine thousand inhabit- 
 ants, and aspires to become the Buftalo of Pennsylvania — Erie, 
 which already has business enougli to sustain many stores wherein 
 not every article known to traffic is sold, and where a man cannot 
 consequently buy coat, hat, boots, physic, plough, crackers, grind- 
 stone and penknife, over the same counter — Erie, which has a 
 Mayor and Aldermen, a dog-law, and an ordinance against shooting 
 off guns in the street under a penalty of five dollars for each and 
 every offense — Erie, fur the truth cannot be longer daslied from 
 utterance, is the shabbiest and most broken-down looking large 
 town, 7, the present writer, an individual not wholly uutraveled, 
 ever saw, in a free State of this Confederacy. 
 
 The shores of the lake there are ' bluffy,' sixty feet or more above 
 the water, and the land for many miles back is nearly a dead level, 
 exceedingly fertile, and quite uninteresting. No, not quite. For 
 
114 HE WANDERS. 
 
 mucli of the primeval forest remains, and the gigantic trees that 
 were saohngs when Cohnnbus played in the streets of Genoa, 
 tower akft, a hundred feet without a branch, with that exquisite 
 daintiness of taper of wliich the eye never tires, which architecture 
 has never equaled, which only Grecian architecture approached, 
 and was beautiful because it approached it. The City of Erie is 
 merely a square mile of this level land, close to the edge of the 
 bluff, with a thousand houses built upon it, which are arranged on 
 the plan of a corn-field — only, not more than a third of the houses 
 have 'come up.' The town, however, condenses to a focus around 
 a piece of ground called ' The Park,' four acres in extent, surrounded 
 with a low, broken board fence, that was white-washed a long 
 time ago, and therefore now looks very forlorn and pig-pen-ny. 
 The side- walks around ' The Park ' present an animated scene. The 
 huge hotel of the place is there — a cross between the Astor House 
 and a country tavern, having the magnitude of the former, the 
 quality of the latter. There, too, is the old Court-House, — ^its 
 uneven brick floor covered with the cliips of a mortising machine, 
 — its galleries up near the high ceiling, kept there by slender 
 poles, — its vast cracked, rusty stove, sprawling all askew, and 
 putting forth a system of stovepipes that wander long through 
 space before they find the chimney. Justice is administered in 
 that Court-house in a truly free and easy style ; and to hear the 
 drowsy clerk, with his heels in the air, administer, 'twixt sleep 
 and awake, the tremendous oath of Pennsylvania, to a brown, 
 abashed farmer, with his right hand raised in a manner to. set 
 otf his awkwardness to the best advantage, is worth a journey 
 to Erie. Two sides of 'The Park' are occupied by the principal 
 stores, before which the country wagons stand, presenting a con- 
 tinuous range of muddy wheels. The marble structure around 
 the corner is not a Greek temple, though built in the style of 
 one, and quite deserted enough to be a ruin — it is the Erie Cus- 
 tom House, a fine example of governmental management, as it 
 is as much too large for the business done in it as the Custom 
 House of New Yoi-k is too small. 
 
 The Erie of the present yert is, of course, not the Erie of 1831, 
 when Horace Greeley walkcfi its streets, with his eyes on the pave- 
 ment and a bundle of exc)•^''ges in his pocket, ruminating on the 
 
THE LAKE. 115 
 
 prospects of the next election, or thinking out a copy of verses to 
 send to hig mother. It was a smaller place, tlien, with fewei brick 
 blocks, more pigs in the street, and no custom-house in the Greek 
 Btjle. But it had ono feature which has not changed. The Lake 
 was there ! 
 
 An island, seven miles long, but not two miles wide, once a part 
 of the main land, lies opposite the town, at an apparent distance of 
 half a mile, tliough in reality two miles and a half from the shore. 
 This island, which approaclies the main land at either extremity, 
 forms the harbor of Erie, and gives to that part of the lake the ef- 
 fect of a river. Beyond, the Great Lake stretches away further 
 than the eye can reach. 
 
 A great lake in fine weather is like the ocean only in one particu- 
 lar — you cannot see across it. The ocean asserts itself; it is demon- 
 strative. It heaves, it flashes, it sparkles, it foams, it roars. On the 
 stillest day, it does not quite go to sleep ; the tide steals up the white 
 beach, and glides back again over the shells and pebbles musically, or 
 it murmurs along the sides of black rocks, with a subdued though al- 
 ways audible voice. The ocean is a living and life-giving thing, ' fair, 
 and fresh, and ever free.' The lake, on a fine day, lies dead. No 
 tide breaks upon its earthy shore. It is as blue as a blue ribbon, as 
 blue as the sky ; and vessels come sailing out of heaven, and go-sail- 
 ing into heaven, and no eye can discern where the lake ends and 
 heaven begins. It is as smootli as a mirror's face, and as dull as a 
 mirror's back. Often a liglit mist gathers over it, and then the lake 
 is gone from the prospect ; but for an occasional sail dimly descried, 
 or a streak of black smoke left by a passing steamer, it would give 
 absolutely no sign of its presence, though the spectator is standing 
 a quarter of a mile from the shore. Oftener the mist gathers thick- 
 ly along the horizon, and then, so perfect is the illusion, the stran- 
 ger will swear he sees the opposite shore, not fifteen miles off. 
 There is no excitement in looking upon a lake, and it has no effect 
 upon the appetite or the complexion. Yet there is a quiet, languid 
 beauty hovering over it, a beauty all its own, a charm that grows 
 upon the mind the longer you linger upon the shore. The Castle 
 of Indolence should have been placed upon the bank of Lake Erie. 
 where its inmates could have lain on the grass and gazed down, 
 
lib HE WANDERS. 
 
 through all the slow hours of the long summer day, upon the lazy, 
 hazy, blue expanse. 
 
 When tiie wind blows, the lake wakes up ; and still it is not the 
 ocean. The waves are discolored by the earthy bank upon which 
 they break witli un-oceanlike monotony. They neither advance, 
 nor recede, nor roar, nor sicell. A great lake, with all its charms, 
 and they are many and great, is only an infinite pond. 
 
 The people of Erie care as much for the lake as the people of 
 Niagara care for the cataract, as much as people generally care for 
 anything wonderful or anything beautiful which they can see by 
 turning their heads. In other words, they care for it as the means 
 by which lime, coal, and lumber may be transported to another and 
 a better market. Not one house is built along the shore, though the 
 shore is high and level. Not a path has been worn by human feet 
 above or below the bluff. Pigs, sheep, cows, and sweet-brier bushes 
 occupy tlie unenclosed ground, which seems so made to be built 
 upon that it is surprising the handsome houses of the town should 
 have been built anywhere else. One could almost say, in a weak 
 moment. Give me a cottage on the bluff, and I will live at Erie! 
 
 It was at Erie, probably, that Horace Greeley first saw the uni- 
 form of the American navy. The United States and Great Britain 
 are each permitted by treaty to keep one vessel of war in commis- 
 sion on the Great Lakes. The American vessel usually lies in the 
 harbor of Erie, and a few officers may be seen about the town. 
 What the busy journeyman printer thought of those idle gentlemen, 
 apparently the oidy quite useless, and certainly the best dressed, 
 persons in the place, may be guessed. Perliaps, however, he passed 
 them by, in his absent way, and saw them not. 
 
 In a few days, the new comer was in high favor at the oflSce of 
 the Erie Gazette. lie is remembered there as a remarkably correct 
 and reliable compositor, though not a rapid one, and liis steady 
 devotion to his work enabled him to accomplish more than fiister 
 workmen. lie was soon placed by his employer on the footing of 
 a regular journeyman, at the usual wages, twelve dollars a month 
 and board. All the intervals of labor he spent in reading. As 
 soon as the hour of cessation arrived, he would hurry off his apron, 
 wasli his hands, and lose himself in his book or his newspapers, 
 often forgetting his dinner, and often forgetting whether he had liad 
 
NO MORE WORK AT ERIE. 117 
 
 big dinner or not. More and more, lie became absorbed in politics. 
 It is said, by one who worked beside him at Erie, that lie could tell 
 the name, post-office address, and something of the history and 
 political leanings, of every member of Congress ; and tliat he could 
 give the particulars of every important election that had occurred 
 within his recollection, oven, in some instances, to the county 
 majorities. 
 
 And thus, in earnest work and earnest reading, seven profitable 
 and not unhappy months passed swiftly away. He never lost one 
 day's work. On Sundays, he read, or walked along the shores of 
 the lake, or sailed over to the Island. Ilis better fortune made no 
 change either in his habits or his appearance ; and his employer 
 was surprised, that month after month passed, and yet his strange 
 journeyman drew no money. Once, Mr. Stcrrett ventured to 
 rally him a little upon his persistence in wearing the hereditary 
 homespun, saying, "Now, Horace, you have a good deal of money 
 coming to you ; don't go about the town any longer in that out- 
 landish rig. Let me give you an order on tlie store. Dress up a 
 little, Horace." To which Horace replied, looking down at the ' out- 
 landish rig,' as though he had never seen it before, " You see, Mr. 
 Sterrett, my father is on a new place, and I want to help him all I 
 can." However, a short time after, Horace did make a faint effort 
 to dress up a little ; but the few articles which he bought were so 
 extremely coarse and common, that it was a question in the office 
 whether his appearance was improved by the change, or the 
 contrary. 
 
 At the end of the seventh month, the man whose sickness had 
 made a temporary vacancy in the office of the Gazette, returned to 
 his place, and there was, in consequence, no more work for Horace 
 Greeley. Upon the settlement of his account, it appeared that he 
 bad drawn for his personal expenses during his residence at Erie, 
 the sum of six dollars! Of the remainder of his wages, he took 
 about fifteen dollars in money, and the rest in the form of a note; 
 and with all this wealth in his pocket, he walked once more to his 
 father's house. This note the generous fellow gave to his father, 
 reserving the money to carry on his own personal warfare with the 
 world. 
 
 And now, Horace was tired of dallying with fortune in coun- 
 
118 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. 
 
 try printing offices. He said, Iio tliouglit it was time to do some- 
 thing, and be formed the bold resolution of going straight to New 
 York and seeking his fortune in the metropolis. After a few days of 
 recreation at home, he tied up his bundle once more, put his money 
 in his pocket, and plunged into the woods in the direction of the 
 Erie Canal. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. 
 
 The journey — a night on the tow-path— lie reaches the city — Inventory of his property 
 — Looks for a boarding-house — Finds one — Expends half his capital upon clothes 
 — Searches for employment — Berated by David Hale as a runaway apprentice- 
 Continues the search — Goes to church — Hears of a vacancy — Obtains work— Th# 
 
 boss takes him for a ' fool,' but changes his opinion — Nicknamed ' the Ghost 
 
 — Practical jokes — Horace metamorphosed — Dispute about commas — The shoe 
 maker's boarding-house — Grand banquet on Sundays. 
 
 He took the canal-boat at Buffalo and came as far as Lockport, 
 whence he walked a few miles to Gaines, and staid a day at the 
 house of a friend whom he had known in Vermont. Next morn- 
 ing he walked back, accompanied by his friend, to the canal, and 
 both of them waited many hours for an eastward-bound boat to 
 pass. Night came, but no boat, and the adventurer persuaded his 
 friend to go home, and set out himself to walk on the tow-path to- 
 wards Albion. It was a very dark night. He walked slowly on, 
 hour after hour, looking anxiously behind him for the expected 
 boat, looking more anxiously before him to discern the two fiery 
 eyes of the boats bound to the west, in time to avoid being swept 
 into the canal by the tow-line. Towards morning, a boat of the 
 slower sort, a scow probably, overtook him ; he went on board, and 
 tired with his long walk, lay down in the cabin to rest. Sleep was 
 tardy in alighting upon his eye-lids, and lie had the pleasure of 
 hearing his merits and his costume fully and freely discussed 
 by his fellow passengers. It was Monday morning. One passen- 
 ger explained the coming on board of the stranger at so unusual au 
 
INVENTORY OF HIS PROPERTY. 119 
 
 'jour, by suggesting that be bad been courting all iiigbt. (Sunday 
 evening in country places is sacred to love.) His appearance was so 
 exceedingly unlike tbat of a lover, tbat this sally created much 
 amusement, in which the wakeful traveler shared. At Rochester 
 be took a faster boat. Wednesday night be reached Schenectady, 
 where he left the canal and walked to Albany, as the canal between 
 thoso two towns is much obstructed by locks. He reached Albany 
 on Thursday morning, just in time to see the seven o'clock steam- 
 boat move out into the stream. He, therefore, took passage in s 
 tow-boat which started at ten o'clock on the same morning. At 
 sunrise on Friday, the eighteenth of August, 1831, Horace Greeley 
 landed at Whiteliall, close to the Battery, in the city of New York. 
 
 New York was, and is, a city of adventurers. Few of our emi- 
 nent citizens were born here. It is a common boast among New 
 Yorkers, that this great merchant and that great millionaire came 
 to the city a ragged boy, with only three and sixpence in his 
 pocket; and now look at him ! In a list of the one hundred men 
 who are esteemed to bo the most ' successful ' among the citizens 
 of New York, it is probable that seventy-five of the names wonld 
 be those of men who began their career here in circumstances that 
 gave no promise of future eminence. But among them all, it is 
 questionable whether there was one Avho on his arrival had so lit- 
 tle to help, so much to hinder him, as Horace Greeley. 
 
 Of solid cash, his stock was ten dollars. His other property con- 
 sisted of the clothes he wore, the clothes he carried m his small 
 bundle, and the stick with which he carried it. Tlie clothes he 
 wore need not be described ; they were those which had already 
 astonished the people of Erie. The clothes he carried were very 
 few, and precisely similar in cut and quality to the garments which 
 he exhibited to tlie public. On the violent suppo.sition that his 
 wardrobe could in any case have become a salable commodity, we 
 may compute that he was worth, on this Friday morning at sun- 
 rise, ten dollars and seventy-five cents. He had no friend, no ac- 
 quaintance here. There was not a human being upon whom he 
 had any claim for help or advice. His appearance was all against 
 him. He looked in his round jacket like £),n overgrown boy. No 
 one was likely to observe the engaging beauty of his face, or the 
 noble round of his brow under that overhanging hat, over tbat 
 
120 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. 
 
 long and stooping body. He was somewhat timorous in his inter 
 course with strangers. Ee would not intrude upon their attention ; 
 he had not the faculty of pushing his way, and proclaiming his mer- 
 its and his desires. To the arts by which men are conciliated, by 
 which unwilling ears are forced to attend to an unwelcome tale, he 
 was utterly a stranger. Moreover, he had neglected to bring with 
 him any letters of recommendation, or any certificate of his skill 
 as a primer. It had not occurred to him that anytliing of the kind 
 was necessary, so unacquainted was he with the life of cities. 
 
 His first employment was to find a boarding-house where he 
 could live a long time on a small sum. Leaving the green Battery 
 on his left hand, he strolled oflf into Broad-street, and at the corner 
 of that street and Wall discovered a house that in his eyes had the 
 aspect of a cheap tavern. He entered the bar-room, and asked the 
 price of board. 
 
 " I guess we 're too high for you,'' said the bar-keeper, after 
 bestowing one glance upon the inquirer. 
 
 " Well, how much a week do you charge ?" 
 
 « Six dollars." 
 
 " Yes, that 's more than I can afford," said Horace with a laugh 
 at the enormous mistake he had made in inquiring at a house of 
 such pretensions. 
 
 He turned up Wall-street, and sauntered into Broadway. Seeing 
 no bouse of entertainment that seemed at all suited to his circum- 
 stances, he sought the water once more, and wandered along the 
 wharves of the North River as far as Washington-market. Board- 
 ing-houses of the cheapest kind, and drinking-houses of the lowest 
 grade, the former frequented chiefly by emigrants, the latter by 
 sailors, were numerous enough in that neighborhood. A house, 
 which combined the low groggery and the cheap boarding-house 
 in one small establishment, kept by an Irishman named M'Gorlick, 
 chanced to be the one that first attracted the rover's attention. It 
 looked so mean and squalid, that he was tempted to enter, and 
 again inquire for Avhat sum a man could buy a week's shelter and 
 sustenance. 
 
 " Twenty shillings," was the landlord's reply. 
 
 " Ah," said Horace, " that sounds more like it." 
 
 Ho engaged to board with Mr. M'Gorlick on the instant, and 
 
SSARCHES FOR EMPLOYMENT. 121 
 
 proceeded soon to test the quality of his fare by tal<iiiir breakfast 
 in the bosom of liis fjimily. The cheapness of the entertainment 
 was its best recommendation. 
 
 After breakfast Horace pei-formed an act -whicli I believe he had 
 never spontaneously performed before. He bought some clothes, 
 with a view to render himself more presentable. Tiiey were of 
 the commonest kind, and the garments were few, but tlie purchase 
 absorbed nearly half his capital. Satisfied with his appearance, he 
 now began the round of the printing-offices, going into every one 
 he could find, and asking for employment — merely asking, and 
 going away, without a word, as soon as he was refused. In the 
 course of the morning, he found himself in the oflSce of the Journal 
 of Commerce, and he chanced to direct his inquiry, ' if they wanted 
 a hand,' to the late David Hale, one of the proprietors of the paper. 
 Mr. Hale took a survey of the person who had presumed to ad- 
 dress him, and replied in substance as follows : — 
 
 " My opinion is, young man, that you 're a runaway apprentice, 
 and you 'd better go home to your master." 
 
 Horace endeavored to explain his position and circumstances, 
 but the impetuous Hale could be brought to no more gracious 
 response than, " Be off about your business, and don't botlier us." 
 
 Horace, more amused than indignant, retired, and pursued his 
 way to the next office. All that day he walked the streets, climb- 
 ed into upper stories, came down again, ascended other heights, 
 descended, dived into basements, traversed passages, groped through 
 labyrinths, ever asking the same question, ' Do you want a hand ?' 
 and ever receiving the same reply, in various degrees of civility, 
 'No.' He walked ten times as many miles as he needed, for he 
 was not aware that nearly all the printing-offices in New York are 
 in the same square mile. He Avent the entire length of many streets 
 which any body could have told him did not contain one. 
 
 He went home on Friday evening very tired and a little dis- 
 couraged. 
 
 Early on Saturday morning he resumed the search, and continued 
 it with energy till the evening. But no one wanted a hand. Busi- 
 ness seemed to be at a stand-still, or every office had its full comple- 
 ment of men. On Saturday evening he was still more fatigued. 
 He resolved to remain in the city a day or two longer, and then, if 
 
 A 
 
J 22 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORKc 
 
 still unsuccessful, to turn his face homeward, and inquire for work 
 at the towns through which he passed. Though discouraged, he 
 was not disheartened, and still less alarmed. 
 
 The youthful reader should ohserve here what a sense of inde- 
 pendence and what fearlessness dwell in the spirit of a man who has 
 learned the art of living on the mere necessaries of life. If Horace 
 Greeley had, after another day or two of trial, chosen to leave the 
 city, he would have carried with hiin about four dollars ; and with 
 that sum he could have walked leisurely and with an unanxious 
 heart all the way back to his father's house, six hundred miles, 
 inquiring for work at every town, and feeling himself to be a free 
 and independent American citizen, traveling on his own honestly- 
 earned means, undegraded by an obligation, the equal in social rank 
 of the best man in the best house he passed. Blessed is the young 
 man who can walk thirty miles a day, and dine contentedly on half 
 a pound of crackers! Give him four dollars and summer weather, 
 and he can travel and revel like a prince incog, for forty days. 
 
 On Sunday morning, our hero arose, refreshed and cheerful. He 
 went to church twice, and spent a happy day. In the morning he 
 induced a man who lived in the house to accompany him to a email 
 Uuiversalist church in Pitt street, near the Dry Dock, not less than 
 three miles distant from M'Gorlick's boarding-house. In the evening 
 he found his way to a Unitarian church. Except on one occasion, 
 he had never before this Sunday heard a sermon which accorded 
 with his own religious opinions ; and the pleasure with which he 
 heard the benignity of the Deity asserted and proved. by able men, 
 was one of the highest he had enjoyed. 
 
 In the afternoon, as if in reward of the pious way in which he 
 spent the Sunday, he heard news which gave him a faint hope of 
 being able to remain in the city. An Irishman, a friend of the 
 landlord, came in the course of the afternoon to pay his usua* Sun- 
 day visit, and became acquainted with Horace and his fruitless 
 search for work. He was a shoemaker, I believe, but he lived in a 
 house which was much frequented by journeymen printers. From 
 them he had heard that hands were wanted at West's, No. 85 Chat- 
 ham street, and he recommended his new acquaintance to make 
 immediate application at that oiiice. 
 
 Accustomed to country hours, and eager to seize the chance, 
 
HE HEARS OF A VACANCY. 12S 
 
 Horace wti-s in Chatham street aud on the steps of the desiguat.„\I 
 House by half-past five on Monday morning. West's printing office 
 was in tlie seeond story, the ground floor being occupied by Mc- 
 Eh-atli and Bangs as a boolistore. Tliey were publisliers, and West 
 was their printer. Neither store nor office was yet opened, and 
 Horace sat down on the steps to wait. 
 
 Had Thomas McEh'atli, Es(iuire, happened to [)ass on an early 
 walk to the Battery that morning, and seen our hero sitting on those 
 steps, with his red bundle on his knees, his pale face supported on 
 his hands, his attitude expressive of dejection and anxiety, his attire 
 extremely unornamental, it would not have occurred to Thomas Mc- 
 Elrath, Escjuire, as a probable event, that one day he would be the 
 PAKTNEE of that sorry figure, and proud of the connection ! Nor did 
 Miss Reed, of Philadelphia, when she saw Benjamin Franklin pass 
 her father's house, eating a large roll and carrying two others under 
 his arms, see in that poor wanderer any likeness to her future hus- 
 band, the husband that made her a proud and an immortal wife. 
 The princes of the mind always remain incog, till they come to the 
 throne, and, doubtless, the Coming Man, when he comes^ will appear 
 in a strange disguise, aud no man will know him. 
 
 It seemed very long before any one came to work that morning 
 at No. 85. The steps on which our friend was seated were in the 
 narrow part of Chatham-street, the gorge through which at morn- 
 ing and evening the swarthy tide of mechanics pours. By six 
 o'clock the stream has set strongly down-town-ward, and it gradu- 
 ally swells to a torrent, bright with tin kettles. Thousands passed 
 by, but no one stopped till nearly seven o'clock, when one of Mr. 
 West's journeymen arrived, and finding the door still locked, he sat 
 down on the steps by the side of Horace Greeley. They foil into 
 conversation, and Horace stated his circumstances, something of his 
 history, and his need of employment. Luckily this journeyman was 
 a Vermonter, and a kind-hearted, intelligent man. lie looked upon 
 Horace as a countryman, and was struck with the singular candor 
 and artlessness with which he told his tale. " I saw," saya he, " that 
 he was an honest, good young man, and being a Vermonter myself, 
 I determined to help him if I could." 
 
 He did help him. The doors were opened, the men began to 
 arrive; Horace aud his newly-found friend ascended to the office, 
 
i!J4 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. 
 
 and soon after seven the work of tlie clay began. It is hardlj' neces« 
 riary to say that the appearance of Horace, as lie sat in the office 
 waiting for the coining of the foreman, excited unbounded astonish- 
 ment, and brougbt upon his friend a variety of satirical observations. 
 Nothing daunted, however, on the arrival of the foreman he stated 
 the case, and endeavored to interest him enough in Horace to give 
 him a trial. It happened tliat the work for which a man was wanted 
 in the office was the composition of a Polyglot Testament; a kind 
 of work which is extremely difficult and tedious. Several men had 
 tried their hand at it, and, in a few days or a few hours, given it up. 
 The foreman looked at Horace, and Horace looked at the foreman. 
 Horace saw a handsome man (now known to the sporting public as 
 Colonel Porter, editor of the Spirit of the Times.) The foreman 
 beheld a youth who could have gone on the stage, that minute, as 
 Ezekiel Homespun without the alteration of a thread or a hair, and 
 brought down the house by his ' getting up' alone. He no more 
 believed that Ezekiel could set up a page of a Polyglot Testament 
 than that he could construct a chronometer. However, partly to 
 oblige Horace's friend, partly because he was unwilling to wound 
 the feelings of the applicant by sending him abruptly away, he con- 
 sented to let him try. " Fix up a case for him," said he, " and we '11 
 eee if he can do anything." In a few minutes Horace was at 
 work. 
 
 The gentleman to whose intercession Horace Greeley owed his 
 first employment in New- York is now known to all the dentists in 
 the Union as the leading member of a firm which manufactures 
 annually twelve hundred thousand artificial teeth. He has made 
 a fortune, the reader will be glad to learn, and lives in a mansion up 
 town. 
 
 After Horace had been at work an hour or two, Mr. West, the 
 ' boss,' came into the office. What his feelings were when lie saw 
 his new man, may be inferred from a little conversation upon the 
 subject which took place between him and the foreman. 
 
 " Did you hire that fool?" asked West with no small irri- 
 tation. 
 
 " Yes ; we must have hands, and he 's the best I could get," said 
 the foreman, justifying h's conduct, though he was really ashamed 
 of it. 
 
KICKNAMED " TUE GHOST." 125 
 
 "Well," said tlie master, "for God's sake pay liim off to-nighl, 
 and let him go about his business." 
 
 Horace worlced througli the day with his usual intensity, and ic 
 perfect silence. At niglit lie presented to the foreman, as the cu? 
 toni tlicn was, tlip 'proof of his day's Avork AVhat astonishment 
 was depicted in the good-looking countenance of tliat gentleman 
 when he discovered tliat the proof before him was greater in quan- 
 tity, and more correct than that of any other day's work which 
 Lad yet been done on the Polyglot ! There was no thought of send- 
 ing tlie new journeyman about his business now. lie was an es- 
 tablished man at once. Thenceforward, for several months, Horace 
 worked regularly and hard on the Testament, earning about six dol- 
 lars a week. 
 
 He had got into good company. There were about twenty men 
 and boys in the otBce, altogether, of whom two have since been 
 members i>f Congress, three influential editors, and several others 
 have attained di>tinguislied success in more private vocations. Most 
 of them are still alive; they remember vividly the coming among 
 them of Horace Greeley, and are fond of describing his ways and 
 works. The following paragrai)h the reader is requested to regard 
 as the condensed statement of their several recollections. 
 
 Horace worked with most remarkable devotion and intensity. 
 His task was difBcult, and he was paid by the 'piece.' In order, 
 therefore, to earn tolerable wages, it was necessary for him to work 
 harder and longer than any of his companions, and he did so. 
 Often he was at his case before six in the morning; often lie 
 had not loft it at nine in the evening ; always, he was the first to 
 begin and the last to leave. In the summer, no man beside him 
 self worked before breakfast, or after tea. While the young men 
 and older apprentices were roaming the streets, seeking their 
 pleasure, he, by the light of a candle stuck in a bottle, was eking 
 out a slender day's wages by setting up an extra column of the 
 Polyglot Testament. 
 
 For a day or two, the men of the ofBco eyed him askance, and 
 winked at one another severely. The boys were more demonstra- 
 tive, and one of the most mischievous among them named him 
 The Ghost, in allusion to his long white hair, and the singular fiiir- 
 ness of his com])lcxion. Soon, however, the men who work<"^ ne.ar 
 
126 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK, 
 
 liim began to suspect that his miiul was hcttcr furnished than his 
 person. Horace always had a way of talking profusely while at 
 work, and that, too, without working witli less assiduity. Conver- 
 sations soon (^rose about masonry, temperance, politics, religion ; 
 and the new journeyman rapidly argued Iiis way to respectful con- 
 sideration. His talk was ardent, animated, and positive. He was 
 perfectly confident of his opinions, and maintained them with an 
 assurance that in a youth of less understanding and less geniality 
 would have been thought arrogance. His enthusiasm at this time, 
 was Henry Clay ; his great subject, masonry. In a short time, to 
 '{'lote the language of one his fellow-workmen, ' he was the lion of 
 the shop.' Yet for all that, the men who admired him most would 
 nave their joke, and during all the time that Horace remained in 
 ihe office, it was the standing amusement to make nonsensical re- 
 Ofiarks in order to draw from him one of his shrewd, half-comic, 
 Scotch-Irish retorts. " And we always got it," says one. 
 
 The boys of the office were overcome by a process similar to that 
 which frustrated the youth of Poultney. Four or five of them, 
 who knew Horace's practice of returning to tlie office in the even- 
 ing and working alone by candle-light, concluded that that would 
 be an excellent time to play a few printing-office tricks upon hira. 
 They accordingly lay in ambush one evening, in the dark recesses 
 of the shop, and awaited the appearance of tlie Ghost. He had no 
 sooner liglited his candle and got at work, tlian a ball, made of 'old 
 roller,' whizzed past his ear and knocked over his candle. He set 
 it straight again and went on with his work. Another ball, and 
 another, and another, and finally a volley. One hit his ' stick,' one 
 scattered his type, another broke his bottle, and several struck his 
 head. He bore it till the balls came so fast, that it was impossible 
 for him to work, as all his time was wasted in repairing damages. 
 At length, he turned round and said, without the slightest ill-humor, 
 and in a supplicating tone, " Now, boys, don't. I want to work. 
 Please, now, let me alone." The boys came out of their places of 
 concealment into the light of the candle, and troubled him no 
 nore. 
 
 Thus, it appears, that every man can best defend himself with 
 the weapon that nature has provided him — whether it be fists or 
 forgiveness. Little Jane Eyre was of opinion, that when anybody 
 
THE OBLIGING MAN OF THE OFFICE, 127 
 
 has struck another, he sliouid himself be strnck; " ij liard," says 
 Jane, "so liard, that he will be afraid ever to stri' j anybody again." 
 On the contrary, thought Horace Greeley, wlie any one has wan- 
 tonly or unjustly struck another, he should b*' ,o severely forgiven, 
 and made so tb.oroughly ashamed of himself, ^nat he will ever after 
 shrink from striking a wanton or an unjust blow. Sound maxims, 
 both ; the first, for Jane, the second, for Il-jrace. 
 
 His good humor was, in truth, naturally imperturbable. He was 
 soon the I'ecognized obliging man of the office ; the person relied 
 upon always when help was needed — a most inconvenient kind of 
 reputation. Among mechanics, mone}' is generally abuudaat enough 
 on Sundays and Mondays ; and they spend it freely on those days. 
 Tuesday and Wednesday, they are only in moderate circumstances. 
 The last days of the week are days of pressure and borrowing, 
 when men are in a bettor condition to be treated than to treat. 
 ITorace Greeley was the man wlio had money always ; he was as 
 rich aj)pareutly on Saturday afternoon as on Sunday morning, and 
 as willing to lend. In an old memorandum-book belonging to one 
 of his companions in those days, still may be deciphered such en- 
 tries as these: 'Borrowed of Horace Greeley, 2s.' 'Owe Horace 
 Greeley, 9s. 6d.' ' Owe Horace Greeley, 2s. 6d, for a breastpin.' 
 He never refused to lend his money. To himself, he allowed scarce- 
 ly anything in the way of luxury or amusement ; unless, indeed, 
 an occasional purchase of a smtiU share in a lottery-ticket may be 
 styled a luxury. 
 
 Lotteries were lawful in those days, and Chatham-street was 
 where lottery-offices most abounded. It was regarded as a per 
 fectly respectable and legitimate business to keep a lottery-oflBce, 
 and a perfectly proper and moral action to buy a lottery-ticket. 
 The business was conducted openly and fairly, and under official 
 supervision ; not as it now is, by secret and irresponsible agents in 
 all parts of the city and country. Whether less money, or more, 
 is lost by lotteries noAV than formerly, is a question which, it is 
 surprising, no journalist has determined. Whether they cause 
 less or greater demoralization is a question which it were well 
 for moralists to consider. 
 
 Of the few incidents which occurred to relieve the monotony of 
 
128 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. 
 
 the priiiting-onice in Cliatliara-street, the one which is most gloe- 
 fully reiiieiiil)ere(l is tlie following: — 
 
 Horace was, of course, subjected to a constant fire of jocular 
 observations upon his dress, and frequently to practical jokes sug- 
 gested by its deticiencies and redundancies. Men stared at him in 
 the streets, and boys called after him. Still, however, he clung to 
 Ills linen roundabout, his short trowsers, his cotton sliirt, and his 
 dilapidated hat. Still he wore no stockings, and made his wrist- 
 bands meet witli twine. For all jokes upon the subject he had deaf 
 ears; and if any one seriously remonstrated, he would not defend 
 himself by ex|)laining, that Jill the money he could spare was need- 
 ed in the wilderness, six hundred miles away, whither he punctually 
 Bent it. September jiassed and October. It began to be cold, but 
 our hero had been tougliened by the winters of Vermont, and still 
 he walked about in linen. One evening in November, when busi- 
 ness was urgent, and all the men worked till late in the evening, 
 Horace, instead of returning immediately after tea, as his custom 
 was, was absent from the office for two hours. Between eight and 
 nine, when by ciiance all the men were gathered about the 'com- 
 posing stone,' upon which a strong light was thrown, a strange 
 figure entered the ofiice, a tall gentleman, dressed in a complete suit 
 of faded broadclotii, and a shabb\', over-brushed beaver hat, from 
 beneath which dei)ended long and snowy locks. The garments 
 were fashionably cat ; the coat was in the style of a swallow's 
 tail; the tigure was precisely that of an old gentleman who had 
 seen better days. It advanced from the darker parls of the office, 
 and emerged slowly into the glare around the composing stone. 
 The men looked inquiringly. The figure spread out its hands, 
 looked down at its habiliments with an air of infinite complacency, 
 and said, — 
 
 " Well, boys, and how do you like me now?" 
 
 "Wliy, it's Greeley," screamed one of the men. 
 
 It was Greeley, metamorphosed into a decayed gentleman by a 
 second-hand suit of black, bought of a Chatham-street Jew for five 
 dollars. 
 
 A shout arose, such as liad never before been heard at staid and 
 regular 85 Chatham-street. Cheer upon cheer was given, and meu 
 
PRACTICAL JOKES. 129 
 
 laughed till the tears came, the venerable gentleman being as happy 
 as the happiest. 
 
 " Greeley, you must treat upon that suit, and no mistake,'' eaid 
 one. 
 
 " Oh, of course," said everybody else. 
 
 "Come along, boys; I '11 treat," was Horace's ready response. 
 
 All the company repaired to the old grocery on the corner of 
 Duane-street, and there eacli individual partook of the beverage 
 that pleased him, tiie treater indulging in a glass of spruce beer. 
 Posterity may as well know, and take warning from the fact, that 
 this five-dollar suit was a failure. It had been worn thin, and had 
 been washed in blackened water and ironed smooth. A week's 
 wear brought out all its pristine shabbiness, and developed new. 
 
 Our hero was not, perhaps, quite so indifferent to his personal ap- 
 ])earance as he seemed. One day, Avhen Colonel Porter happened 
 to remark that his hair had once been as white as Horace Greeley's, 
 Horace said with great earnestness, "Was it?" — as though lie drew 
 from that fact a hope that his own hair might darken as lie grew 
 older. And on another occasion, when he had just returned from a 
 visit to Kew-llaiiipshire, he said, "Well, I have been up in the 
 country among my cousins; they are all good-looking young men 
 enough ; I do n't see why / should be such a curious-looking fel- 
 low." 
 
 One or two other incidents which occurred at West's are perhaps 
 worth telling; for one well-authenticated fact, though apparently 
 of trifling imiiortance, throws more light upon character than pages 
 of general reminiscence. 
 
 It was against, the rules of the office for a compositor to enter the 
 press-room, which adjoined the composing-room. Our hero, how- 
 ever, went on one occasion to the forbidden apartment to speak to 
 a friend who worked there upon a hand-press that was exceedingly 
 hard to pull. 
 
 "Greeley,'" said one of the men, "you're a pretty stout fellow, 
 but you can 't jinll back that lever." 
 
 " Can 't I ?" said Horace ; " I can." 
 
 " Try it, then," said the mischief-maker. 
 
 The press was arranged in such a manner that the lever offered 
 no resistance whatever, and, consequently, when Horace seized it, 
 
 6* 
 
130 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. 
 
 and cclieeted all his strengtli for a tremendous effort, he fell hack- 
 wards on the floor with great violence, and hroiight away a large 
 part of the press with hitn. There was a thundering noise, and all 
 the liouse came running to see what was the matter. Horace got 
 up, pale and trembling from the concussion. 
 
 " Now, that was too bad," said he. 
 
 lie stood his ground, however, 'while the man who had played 
 the trick gave the ' boss' a fictitious explanation of the mishap, with- 
 out mentioning the name of the apparent ofiender. When all was 
 quiet again, Horace went privately to the pressman and offered to 
 "pay his share of the damage done to the press ! 
 
 With Mr. West, Horace liad little intercourse, and yet tliey did 
 on several occasions come into collision. Mr. AVest, like all other 
 bosses and men, had a weakness ; it was commas. He loved com- 
 mas, he was a stickler for commas, he was irritable on the subject 
 of commas, he thought more of commas than any other point of 
 prosody, and above all, he was of opinion that he knew more about 
 commas than Horace Greeley. Horace had, on his part, no objec- 
 tion to commas, but he loved them in moderation, and was deter- 
 mined to keep them in their place. Debates ensued. The journey- 
 man expounded the subject, and at length, after much argument, 
 convinced his employer that a redundancy of commas was possible, 
 and, in short, that he, the journeyman, knew how to preserve the 
 balance of power between the various points, without the assist- 
 ance or advice of any boss or man in Chatham, or any other street. 
 There was, likewise, a certain professor whose book was printed in 
 the office, and who often came to read the proofs. It chanced that 
 Horace set up a few pages of this book, and took the liberty of al- 
 tering a few phrases that seemed to him inelegant or incorrect. The 
 professor was indignant, and though he was not so ignorant as 
 not to perceive that his language had been altered for the better, he 
 thought it due to his dignity to apply opprobrious epithets to the 
 impertinent compositor. The compositor argued the matter, but 
 did not appease the great man. 
 
 Soon after obtaining work, our friend found a better boardiug- 
 Uouse, at least a more convenient one. On the corner of Duane- 
 Btreet and Chatham there was, at that time, a large building, oc- 
 cupied below as a grocery and bar-room, the upper stories as a ' e- 
 
xrtja shoemaker's boarding-iiouse. 131 
 
 cbanics' boarding-house. It ficcoinuiodutcd abont fifty boarders, 
 most of wboin were sboe-makers, "wiio worked in tbcir own rooms, 
 or in shops at the top of the house, and paid, for room and board, 
 two doHars and a haU' per week. Tliis was the house to which 
 Horace Greeley removed, a few days after liis arrival in the city, 
 and there he lived for more than two years. The reader of the 
 Tribune may, perhaps, remember, that its editor lias frequently dis- 
 played a particular acquaintance with the business of shoe-making, 
 and drawn many illustrations of the desirableness and feasibility 
 of association from the excessive labor and low wages of shoe- 
 makers. It was at this house that he learned the mysteries of the 
 craft. He was accustomed to go up into the shops, and sit among 
 the men while waiting for dinner. It was here, too, that he obtain- 
 ed that general acquaintance with the life and habits of city me- 
 chanics, which has enabled him since to address them so wisely 
 and so convincingly. He is remembered by those who lived with 
 him there, only as a very quiet, thoughtful, studious young man, 
 one who gave no trouble, never went out ' to spend the evening,' 
 and read nearly every minute when he was not working or eating. 
 The late Mr. Wilson, of the Brother Jonathan, who was his room- 
 mate for some montlis, used to say, that often he went to bed leav- 
 ing his companion absorbed in a book, and when he awoke in the 
 morning, saw him exactly in the same position and attitude, as 
 though he had not moved all night. He had not read all night, 
 however, but had risen to his book with the dawn. Soon after 
 sunrise, he went over the way to his work. 
 
 Another of Mr. "Wilson's reminiscences is interesting. The 
 reader is aware, perhaps, from experience, that people who pay only 
 two dollars and a half per week for board and lodging are not pro- 
 vided with all the luxuries of the season ; and that, not unfrequent- 
 ly, a desire for something delicious steals over the souls of boarders, 
 particularly on Sundays, between 12, M. and 1, P.M. The eating- 
 house revolution had then just begun, and the institution of Dining 
 Down Town was set up ; in fact, a bold man established a Sixpenny 
 Dining Saloon in Beekman-street, which was the talk of the shops 
 in the winter of 1831. On Sundays Horace and his friends, after 
 their return from Mr. Sawyer's (Universalist) church in Orchard- 
 street, were accustomed to repair to this establishment, and indulge 
 
a32 ARRrs'AL ix ^•E^Y york. 
 
 in a splendid repast at a cost of, at leas:, oue sliilling eacli, rising 
 on some occivsions to eighteen pence. Their talk at dinner was of 
 tlie soul-banquet, the sermon, of which they had partaken in the 
 morning, and it was a custom among them to ascertain who could 
 repeat the substance of it most correctly. Horace attended that 
 church regularly, in those days, and listened to the sermon with 
 his head bent forward, his eyes upon the floor, his arms folded, and 
 one leg swinging, quite in his old class attitude at the "Westhareu 
 school. 
 
 This, then, is the substance of what his companions remember 
 of Horace Greeley's first few months in the metropolis. In a way 
 so homely and so humble, Xew York's most distinguished citizen, 
 the Country's most influential man, began his career. 
 
 In his subsequent writings there are not many allusions of an au- 
 tobiographical nature to this period. The following is, indeed, the 
 only paragraph of the kind that seems worth quoting. It is valu- 
 able as throwing light upon the habit of his mind at this time : — 
 
 "Fourteen years ago, when the editor of the Tribune came to this city, 
 there was published here a small daily paper entitled the ' Sentinel,' devoted 
 to the cause of what w.<»s called by its own supporters ' the Working Men's 
 Party,' and by its opponents ' the Fa7inr/ Wr-ighi Working Men.' Of that 
 party we have little personal knowledge, but at the head of the paper, among 
 several good and many objectionable avowals of principle, was borne the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 " ' Single Districts/or the choice of each Senaior and Member of Assemblr^.' 
 " We gave this proposition some attention at the time, and came to the con- 
 closion that it wa3 alike sound and important. It mattered little to as that it 
 was accompanied and surrounded by others that we. could not assent to, and 
 was propounded by a party with which we had no acquaintance and little sym- 
 pathy. We are aocustomed to welcome truth, from whatever qu.irter it may 
 approach u«. and on whatever flag it maybe inscribed. Subsequent esperience 
 has fully confirmed our original impression, and now we have little doubt that 
 this principle, which was utterly slighted when presented under unpopular 
 auspices, will be engrafted on our reformed Constitution without serious oppO' 
 ■itioa." — Tribune, Dec^ 1S45. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FROM OFFICE TO OFFICE. 
 
 L«Bre8 West's — Works on the ' Evening Post' — Story of Mr. Leggett — ' Commercial! 
 Advertiser' — 'Spirit of tlie Times' — Specimen of liis writing at this period— Natu- 
 rally fond of the drama — Timothy Wiggins — Works for Mr. Redfleld — The first 
 lift. 
 
 Horace Greeley was a journeyinan printer in this city for four- 
 teen inontlis. Tliose months need not detuin us long from the more 
 eventful periods of his life. 
 
 He worked for Mr. "West in Chatham street till about the first of 
 November (1831). Then the business of tliat office fell off, and he 
 was again a seeker for employment. He obtained a place in the 
 office of the 'Evening Post,' whence, it is said^ he was soon dis- 
 missed by the late Mr. Leggett, on the ground of his sorry appear- 
 ance. The story current among printers is tliis : Mr. Leggett came 
 into the printing-office for the purpose of speaking to the man whoso 
 place Horace Greeley had taken. 
 
 " "Where 's Jones ?" asked Mr. Leggett. 
 
 "He 's gone away," replied one of the men, 
 
 " Who has taken his place, then ?" said the irritable editor. 
 
 " There 's the man," said some one, pointing to Horace, who was 
 ' bobbing' at the case in his peculiar way. 
 
 Mr, Leggett looked at ' the man,' and said to the foreman, " For 
 God's sake discharge him, and let 's have (^QQ^ni-loohing men in the 
 office, at least." 
 
 Horace was accordingly — so goes the story — discharged at the 
 end of the week. 
 
 He worked, also, for a few days upon the ' Commercial Adver- 
 tiser,' as a ' sub,' probably. Then, for two weeks and a half, upon 
 a little paper called ' The Amulet,' a weekly journal of literature 
 and art. The ' Amulet' was discontinued, and our hero had to wait 
 ten years for his wages. 
 
 His next step can be given in his own words. The folk wing is 
 
134 FROM OFFICE TO OFFICE. 
 
 the beginning of a paragraph in the New Yorker of March 2(1, 
 1839: 
 
 " Seven years ago, on the first of January last — that being a holi- 
 day, and the writer being then a stranger with few social greetings 
 to exchange in New York — he inquired his way into the ill-furnish- 
 ed, cliilly, forlorn-looking attic printing-office in which "William T. 
 Porter, in company with another very young man, who soon after 
 abandoned the enterprise, had just issued the 'Spirit of the Timea.' 
 the first weekly journal devoted entirely to sporting intelligence 
 ever attempted in this country. It was a moderate-sized sheet of 
 indifferent paper, with an atrocious wood-cut for the head — about 
 as uncomely a si^ecimen of the ' fine arts' as our ' native talent' has 
 produced. The paper was about in proportion ; for neither of its 
 conductors had fairly attained his majority, and each was destitute 
 of the experience so necessary in such an enterprise, and of the 
 funds and extensive acquaintance which were still more necessary 
 to its success. But one of them possessed a persevering spirit and 
 an ardent enthusiasm for the pursuit to which he had devoted him- 
 self." 
 
 And, consequently, the ' Spirit of the Times' still exists and flour- 
 ishes, under the proprietorship of its originator and founder, Culonel 
 Porter. For this paper, our hero, during his short stay in the office, 
 composed a multitude of articles and paragraphs, most of them 
 short and unimportant. As a specimen of his style at this period, 
 I copy from the ' Si)irit' of May 5th, 1832, the following epistle, 
 which was considered extremely funny in those innocent days : 
 
 " Messrs. Editobs : — Hear me you shall, pity me you must, while I pro- 
 ceed to give a short account of the dread calamities which this vile habit of 
 turning the whole city upside down, 'tother side out, and wrong side before, 
 on the First of May, has brought down on my devoted head. 
 
 " You must know, that having resided but a few months in your city, I was 
 totally ignorant of the existence of said custom. So, on the morning of the 
 eventful, and to me disastrous day, I rose, according to immemorial usage, 
 at the dj'ing away of the last echo of the breakfast bell, and soon found ray- 
 self seated over my coffee, and my good landlady exercising her powers of 
 volubility (no weak ones) apparently in my behalf; but so deep was the rev- 
 erie in which my half-awakened brain was then engaged, that I did not catch 
 a single idea from the whole of her discourse. I smiled and said, " Yes, 
 ma'am," "certainly ma'am," at each pause; and having speedily dispatched 
 
NATURALLY FOND OF THE DRAMA. 135 
 
 my breakfnKt, sallied immediately out, and proceeded to attend to the busi- 
 ness which engrossed my mind. Dinner-time came, but no time for dinner; 
 and it was late before I was at liberty to wend my way, over wheel-barrows, 
 barrels, and all manner of obstructions, towards my boarding-house. All here 
 was still ; but by the help of my night-keys, I soon introduced myself to my 
 chamber, dreaming of nothing but sweet repose ; when, horrible to relate ! 
 my cars were instantaneously saluted by a most piercing female shriek, pro- 
 ceeding exactly from my own bed, or at least from the plac« where it should 
 have been ; and scarcely had sufficient time elapsed for my hair to bristle on 
 my head, before the shriek was answered by the loud vociferations of a fero- 
 cious mastifiF in the kitchen beneath, and re-echoed by the outcries of half a 
 dozen inmates of the house, and these again succeeded by the rattle of the 
 watchman ; and the next moment, there was a round dozen of tiiom (besides 
 the dog) at my throat, and commanding me to tell them instantly what the 
 devil all this meant. 
 
 " You do well to ask that," said I, as soon as I could speak, •' after falling 
 upon me in this fashion in my own chamber." 
 
 " take him off," said the one who assumed to bo tiio master of the 
 house; "perhaps he's not a thief after all; but, being too tipsy for starlight, 
 he has made a mistake in trying to find his lodgings," — and in spite of all 
 my remonstrances, I was forthwith marched off to the watch-house, to pass 
 the remainder of the night. In the morning, I narrowly escaped commitment 
 on the charge of 'burglary with intent to steal (I verily believe it would have 
 gone hard with me if the witnesses could have been got there at that unseason- 
 able hour), and I was finally discharged with a solemn admonition to guard 
 for the future against intoxication (think of that, sir, for a member of the 
 Cold Water Society !) 
 
 " I spent the next day in unraveling the mystery ; and found that my land- 
 lord had removed his goods and chattels to another part of tho city, on the 
 established day, supposing me to be previously acquainted and satisfied with 
 his intention of so doing; and another family had immediately taken his 
 place ; of which changes, my absence of mind and absence from dinner had 
 kept me ignorant ; and thus had I been led blindfold into a ' Comedy ' (or 
 rather tragedy) of Errors. Your unfortunate, 
 
 "Timothy Wiggins." 
 
 His connection with the office of a .sporting paper procured hira 
 occasionally an order for admission to a tlieater, which he used. 
 Ho appeared to have had a natural liking for the drama ; all Intel 
 ligent persons have when they are young; and one of his compan- 
 ions of that day remembers well the intense interest with which he 
 once witnessed the performance of Richard III., at the old Chat- 
 
136 FROM OFFICE TO OFFICE. 
 
 ham theater. At the close of the play, he said there was auother 
 of Shakespeare's tragedies which he had long -wished to see, and 
 that was Hamlet. 
 
 Soon after writing his letter, the luckless tViggins, tempted by 
 the prospect of hetter wages, left the Spirit of the Times, and went 
 back to "West's, and worked for some weeks on Prof. Bash's Fotea 
 on Genesis, 'the worst manuscript ever seen in a printing-office. 
 That finished, he returned to the Spirit of the Times, and remained 
 till October, when he went to visit his relatives in New Hampshire. 
 He reached his uncle's farm in Londonderry in the apple-gathering 
 season, and going at once to the orchard found his cousins engaged 
 m that pleasing exercise. Horace jumped over the fence, saluted 
 them in the hearty and unornamental Scotch-Irish style, sprang in- 
 to a tree, and assisted them till their task for the day was done, and 
 then all the party went frolicking into the woods on a grape-hunt 
 Horace was a welcome guest. He was full of fun in those days, 
 and kept the boys roaring with his stories, or agape with descrip 
 tions of city scenes. 
 
 Back to the city again early in November, in time and on pur- 
 pose to vote at the fall elections. 
 
 He went to work, soon after, for Mr. J. S. Redfield, now an emi- 
 nent publisher of this city, then a stereotyper. Mr. Redfield favors 
 me with the following note of his connection with Horace Greeley : 
 — I' My recollections of Mr. Greeley extend from about the time he 
 first came to the city to work as a compositor. I was carrying on 
 the stereotyping business in "William street, and having occasion one 
 day for more compositors, one of the hands brought in Greeley, re- 
 marking ' sotto voce ' as he introduced him, that he was a " boy- 
 ish and rather odd looking genius," (to which remark I had no diffi- 
 culty in assenting,) ' but he had understood that he was a good 
 workman.' Being much in want of help at the time, Greeley was 
 set to work, and I was not a little surprised to find on Saturday 
 night, that his bills were much larger than those of any other com- 
 positor in tlie office, and oftentimes nearly double those at work by 
 the side of him on the same work. He would accomplish this, 
 too, and talk all the time! The same untiring industry, and the 
 "same fearlessness and independence, which have characterized his 
 
THE FIRST PENNY PAPER. 137 
 
 course as Editor of the New York Tribune, were the distinguishing 
 features of his character as a journeyman." 
 
 He remained in tiie office of Mr. Redfield till late in December, 
 when the circumstance occurred whicli gave him his first lift in 
 the world. There is a tide, it is said, in the affairs of every man, 
 once in his life, wliich taken at the flood leads on to fortune. 
 
 Horace Greeley's First Lift happened to take place in connection 
 with an event of great, world-wide and lasting consequence; yet 
 one which has never been narrated to the public. It shall, there- 
 fore, have in this work a short chapter to itself. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FIRST PENNY PAPER — AND WHO THOUGHT OP IT. 
 
 [mportance of the cheap daily press — The originator of the idea — History of the idea 
 — Dr. Sheppard's Chathaui-s(reet cogitations — The Idea 13 conceived — It ia born — 
 Interview with Horace Greeley — The Doctor thinks he is ' no common boy' — The 
 schemer baffled — Daily papers twenty-five years ago — Dr. Sheppard comes to a 
 resolution — The firm of Greeley and Story— The Morning Post appears— And fails 
 — The sphere of the cheap press — Fanny Fejn and the pea-nut merchant. 
 
 "When the Historian of the United States shall have completed 
 the work that has occupied so many busy and anxious years, 
 and, in the tranquil solitude of his study, he reviews the long series 
 of events which he has narrated, the question may arise in his 
 mind, — Which of the events that occurred during the first seventy 
 years of the Republic is likely to exert the greatest and most last- 
 ing influence upon its future history ? Surely, he will not pause 
 long for a reply. For, there is one event, which stands out so 
 prominently beyond and above all others, the consequences of which, 
 to this country and all other countries, must be so immense, and, 
 finally, so beneficial, that no other can be seriously placed in com 
 petition with it. It was the establishment of the first penny daily 
 paper in the city of New York in the year 1833. Its results, in thia 
 ftr>untry, ha^e already been wonderful indeed, and it is destined to 
 
l38 THE FIRST PENNY PAPER. 
 
 play a great part in the history of every civilized nation, and in 
 that of every nation yet to be civilized. 
 
 Not that Editors are, in all cases, or in most, the wisest of men; 
 not that editorial writing has a greater value than hasty composition 
 in general. Editors are a useful, a laborious, a generous, an honor- 
 able class of men and women, and their writings have their due 
 effect. But, that part of the newspaper which interests, awakens, 
 moves, warns, inspires, instructs and educates ■ all classes and con- 
 ditions of people, the wise and the unwise, the illiterate and the 
 learned, is the News ! And the iSTews, the same news, at nearly the 
 same instant of time, is communicated to all the people of this 
 fair and vast domain which we inherit, by the instrumentality 
 of the Cheap Press, aided by its allies the Rail and the AVire. 
 
 A catastrophe happens to-day in New York. New Orleans 
 shudders to-morrow at the recital ; and the Nation shudders before 
 the week ends. A ' Great Word,' uttered on any stump in the 
 land, soon illuminates a million minds. A bad deed is perpetrated, 
 and the shock of disgust flies with electric rapidity from city to 
 city, from State to State — from the heart that records it to every 
 heart that beats. A gallant deed or a generous one is done, or a 
 fruitful idea is suggested, and it falls, like good seed which the 
 wind scatters, over all the land at once. Leave the city on a 
 day when some stirring news is rife, travel as ftir and as fast as 
 you may, rest not by day nor night ; you cannot easily get where 
 that News is not, where it is not the theme of general thought and 
 talk, where it is not doing its part in informing, or, at least, exciting 
 the public mind. Abandon the great lines of travel, go rocking in 
 a stage over corduroy roads, through the wilderness, to the newest 
 of new villages, a cluster of log-houses, in a field of blackened 
 stumps, and even there you must be prompt with your news, or it 
 will have flown out from a bundle of newspapers under the driver's 
 seat, and fallen in flakes all over the settlement. 
 
 The Cheap Press — its importance cannot be estimated ! It puts 
 every mind in direct communication with the greatest minds, which 
 all, in one way or another, speak through its colunms. It brings the 
 Course of Exents to bear on the progress of every individual. It is 
 the great leveler, elevator and deraocraticizer. It makes this huge 
 Commonwealth, else so heterogeneous and disunited, think with one 
 
THE ORIGINATOR OF THE IDEA. 139 
 
 miiul, feel with one heart, and talk with one tongue. Dissolve the 
 Union into a hundred petty States, and the Press will still keep us. 
 in heart and soul and liabit, One People. 
 
 Pardon this sliglit digression, dear reader. Pardon it, becaust 
 the beginnings of the greatest tilings are, in appearance, so insig 
 nificant, tliat unless we look at them in the light of their conse 
 quences, it is impossible to take an interest in tliem. 
 
 There are not, I presume, twenty-five persons alive, who know 
 in wliose liead it was, that the idea of a cheap daily paper origin- 
 ated. Nor has the proprietor of that head ever derived from his 
 idea, whicli has enriched so many others, the smallest pecuniary 
 advantage. He walks these streets, this day, an unknown man, and 
 poor. His name — the reader may forget it, History will not — is 
 HoKATio Davis Sheppahd. Tlie story of his idea, amply confirmed 
 in every particular by living and nnimpeachable witnesses, is the 
 following : 
 
 About the year 1830, Mr. Slieppard, recently come of age and 
 into the possession of fifteen hundred dollars, moved from his native 
 New Jersey to New York, and entered the Eldridge Street Medical 
 School as a student of medicine. He was ambitious and full of 
 ideas. Of course, therefore, his fifteen hundred dollars 'burned in his 
 vest pocket — (where he actually used to carry it, until a fellow stu- 
 dent almost compelled him to deposit it in a place of safety). He 
 took to dabbling in newspapers and periodicals, a method of getting 
 rid of superfluous cash, which is as expeditious as it is fascinating. 
 He soon had an interest in a medical magazine, and soon after, a 
 share in a weekly paper. By the time he had completed his medi- 
 cal studies, he had gained some insight into the nature of the news- 
 paper business, and lost the greater part of his money. 
 
 People who live in Eldridge street, when they have occasion to 
 go 'down tovvn,' must necessarily pass through Chatham street, a 
 thoroughfare which is noted, among many other things, for the ex- 
 traordinary number of articles whicli are sold in it for a 'penny a 
 piece.' Apple-stalls, peanut-stalls, stalls for the sale of oranges, 
 melons, pine-apples, cocoanuts, chestnuts, «andy, shoe-laces, cakes, 
 pocket-combs, ice-cream, suspenders, lemonade, and oysters, line 
 the sidewalk. In Chatham street, those small trades are carried on, 
 on a scale of magnitude, with a loudness of vociferation, and a 
 
140 THE FIRST PENNY PAPER. 
 
 flare of lamp-light, unknovva to any other part of the town. Along 
 Chatham street, our medical student ofttimes took his way, musing 
 on the instability of fifteen hundred dollars, and observing, possibly 
 envying, the noisy merchants of the stalls. He was struck with 
 the rapidity with which they sold their penny ware. A small boy 
 would sell half a dozen penny cakes in the course of a minute. 
 The dif erence between a cent, and no money, did not seem to be 
 appreciated by the people. If a person saw something, wanted it, 
 knew the price to be only a cent, he was almost as certain to buy 
 it as though it were offered him for nothing. Now, thought he, to 
 make a fortune, one has nothing more to do than to produce a 
 tempting article which can be sold profitably for a cent, place it 
 wliere everybody can see it, and buy it, without stopping — and lo 1 
 the thing is done ! If it were only possible to produce a small, spicy 
 /laily paper for a cent, and get boys to sell it about the streets, how 
 it would sell ! How many pennies that now go for cakes and pea- 
 nuts would be spent for news and paragraphs ! 
 
 The idea was born — the twin ideas of the penny paper and the 
 newsboy. But, like the young of the kangaroo, they crawled into 
 the mental pouch of the teeming originator, and nestled there for 
 months, before they were fully formed and strong enough to con- 
 front the world. 
 
 Perhaps it is possible, continued the musing man of medicine, on 
 a subsequent walk in Chatham street. He went to a paper ware- 
 bouse, and made inquiries touching the price of the cheaper kinds 
 of printing paper. He figured up the cost of composition. He 
 computed office expenses and editorial salaries. He estimated the 
 probable circulation of a penny paper, and the probable income to 
 be derived from advertising. Surely, he could sell four or five 
 thousand a day ! There, for instance, is a group of people ; suppose 
 a boy were at this moment to go up to them with an armful of pa- 
 pers, ' only one cent,' I am positive, thought the sanguine projector, 
 that six of the nine would buy a copy ! His conclusion was, that 
 he could produce a newspaper about twice the size of an average 
 sheet of letter-paper, half paragraphs and half advertisements, and 
 «ell it at a cent per copy, with an ample profit to himself. He was 
 rare of it ! He had tried all his arithmetic upon the project, and 
 the figures gave the same result always. The twins leapc^ from 
 
DAILY PAPERS TWENTV-FIVE TEARS AGO. 141 
 
 the pouch, and taking their progenitor by the tliroat, led him a fine 
 dance before lie could shake them off. For the present, they pos- 
 sessed him wholly. 
 
 As most of his little inheritance had vanished, it was necessary 
 for him to interest some one in the sclienie who had either capital 
 or a printing office. The Spirit of the Times was then in its infan- 
 cy. To the office of that paper, where Horace Greeley was then a 
 journeyman, Mr. Sheppard first directed his stejts, and there he 
 first unfolded his plans and exhibited his calculations. Mr. Greeley 
 was not ])resent on his first entrance. He came in soon after, and 
 began telling in high glee a story he had picked up of old Isaac Hill, 
 who used to read his speeches in the House, and one day brought the 
 wrong sjjeech, and got upon his legs, and half way into a swelling ex- 
 ordium before lie discovered his mistake. The narrator told his sto- 
 ry extremely well, taking off the embarrassment of the old gentlemaa 
 as he gradually came to the knowledge of his misfortune, to the life. 
 The company were highly amused, and Mr. Siieppard said to him- 
 self, "Tiiat 's no connnon &(??/." Perhaps it was an unfortunate mo- 
 ment to introduce a bold and novel idea; but it is certain tiiat every 
 individual present, from the editor to the devil, regarded the notion 
 of a penny paper as one of extreme absurdity, — foolish, ridiculous, 
 frivolous ! They took it as a joke, and the schemer took his 
 leave. 
 
 Nor is it at all surprising that they should have regarded ic in 
 that light. A daily newspaper in those days was a solemn thing. 
 People in moderate circumstances seldom saw, never bought one. 
 The price was ten dollars a year. Cut the present Journal of Com- 
 merce in halves, fold it, fancy on its second page half a column of 
 serious editorial, a coluum of news, half a column of business and 
 shipping intelligence, and the rest of the ara[)le slieet covered with 
 advertisements, and you have before your mind's eye the New York 
 daily paper of twenty-five years ago. It A-as not a thing for the 
 people; it appertained to the counting-house; it was taken by the 
 wholesale dealer; it was cumbrous, heavy, solemn. The idea of 
 making it an article to be cried about the streets, to be sold for a 
 cent, to be bought by workingmen and boys, to come into competi- 
 tion with cakes and apples, must have seemed to the respectable 
 New Yorkers of 1831, unspeakably absurd. When the respectable 
 
142 THE FIRST PENNY PAPER. 
 
 New Yorker first saw a penny paper, he gazed at it (T saw hiir.) 
 with a feeling similar to that with which an ill-natured man may 
 be supposed to regard General Tom Thumb, a feeling of mingled 
 curiosity and contempt ; he put the ridiculous little thing into hia 
 waistcoat pocket to carry home for the amusement of his family ; 
 and he wondered wliat nonsense would be perpetrated next. 
 
 Dr. Slieppard — he had now taken his degree — was not disheart- 
 ened by the merry reception of his idea at the office of the Spirit of the 
 Times. ITe went to other offices — to nearly every other office ! For 
 eighteen months it was his custom, whenever opportunity offered, 
 to expound his project to printers and editors, and, in fact, to any 
 one who would listen to him long enough. He could not convince 
 one man of the feasibility of his scheme, — not one I A few jieople 
 thought it a good idea for the instruction of the million, and recom- 
 mended him to get some society to take hold of it. But not a 
 human being could be brought to believe that it Avould 2^cj/ ^^ ^ 
 business, and only a few of the more polite and complaisant printers 
 could be induced to consider the subject in a serious light at all. 
 
 Eeader, possessed with an Idea, reader, 'in a minority of one,' 
 take courage from the fact. 
 
 Despairing of getting the assistance he required, Dr. Sheppard 
 resolved, at length, to make a desperate effort to start the paper 
 himself. His means were fifty dollars in cash and a promise of 
 credit for two hundred dollars' worth of paper. Among his 
 printer friends was Mr. Francis Story, the foreman of the Spirit 
 of the Times office, who, about that time, was watching for 
 an opportunity to get into business on his own account. To him 
 Dr. Sheppard announced his intention, and proposed that he should 
 establish an office and print the forthcoming paper, offering to pay 
 the bill for composition every Saturday. Mr. Story hesitated; but, 
 on obtaining from Mr. Sylvester a promise of the printing of hia 
 Bank Note Bepnrter, he embraced Dr. Sheppard's proposal, and 
 offered Horace Greeley, for whom ho had long entertained a warm 
 friendship and a great admiration, an equal share in the enterprise. 
 Horace was not favorably impressed with Dr. Sheppard's scheme. 
 In the first place, he had no great faith in the practical ability of 
 that gentleman ; and, secondly, he was of opinion that the smallest 
 price for which a daily paper could be profitabW sold was two cents. 
 
THE FIRM OF GREELEY AND STORY. 143 
 
 His argnmeuts on the latter point did not convince tlie ardent doc- 
 tor; but, ■with the hope of overcoming liis scruples and enlisting 
 his co-operalion, he consented to give up his darling idea, and fix 
 the price of his paper at two cents. Horace Greeley agreed, at 
 length, to try his fortune as a master printer, and in December, the 
 firm of Greeley and Story was formed. 
 
 Now, experience has since proved that two cents is the best price 
 for a cheap paper. But the point, the charm, the imj^uc^ence of Dr. 
 Sheppard's project all lay in those magical words, ' Price One 
 Cent,' which his paper was to have borne on its heading — but did 
 not. And tlie capital to be invested in the enterprise was so ludi- 
 crously inadequate, tliat it was necessary for the paper to pay at once, 
 or cease to appear. Horace Greeley's advice, therefore, tliough good 
 as a general principle, Avas not applicable to the case in band. Not 
 that tlie i)roposed j)apcr would, or could, have succeeded upon any 
 terms. Its failure was inevitable. Dr. Slieppard is one of those 
 projectors who have the faculty of suggesting the most valuable and 
 fruitful ideas, without possessing, in any degree, the qualities need- 
 ful for their realization. 
 
 The united capital of the two printers was about one hundred and 
 fifty dollars. They were both, however, highly respected in the print- 
 ing world, and both had friends among those whose operations keep 
 that world in motion. They hired part of a small office at No. 54 
 Liberty street. Horace Greeley's candid story prevailed with Mr. 
 George Bruce, the great type founder, so far, that he gave the new 
 firm credit for a small quantity of type — an act of trust and kindness 
 which secured him one of the best customers he h-as ever had. (To 
 this day the type of the Tribune is supplied by Mr. Bruce.) Before 
 the new year dawned, Greeley and Story were ready to execute 
 every job of printing which was not too extensive or intricate, on 
 favorable terms, and witli the utmost punctuality and dispatch. 
 
 On the morning of January 1st, 1838, the Morning Post, and a 
 snow-storm of almost unexampled fury, came upon the town together. 
 The snow was a wet blanket upon the hopes of newsboys and car- 
 riers, and quite deadened the noise of the new paper, filling u[) 
 areas, and burying the tiny sheet at the doors of its few subscribers. 
 For several days the streets were obstructed Avith snow. It waa 
 very cok\ There were few people in the streets, and those few 
 
144 THE FIRST PENNY PAPER. 
 
 were not easily tempted to stop and fumble in their pockets for two 
 cents. Tlie newsboys were soon discouraged, and were fain to run 
 shivering Jiorne. Dr. Sheppard was wholly unacquainted with the 
 details of editorship, and most of the labor of getting up the num- 
 bers fell upon Mr. Greeley, and they were produced under every 
 conceivable disadvantage. Yet, with all these misfortunes and 
 drawbacks, several hundred copies were daily sold, and Dr. Shep- 
 pard was able to pay all the expenses of the first week. On the 
 second Saturday, however, he paid his printers half in money and 
 half in promises. On the third day of the third week, the faith 
 and the patience of Messrs. Greeley and Story gave out, and the 
 ' Morning Post' ceased to exist. 
 
 The last two days of its short life it was sold for a cent, and the 
 readiness with which it was purchased convinced Dr. Sheppard, 
 but him alone, that if it had been started at that price, it would not 
 have been a failure. Ilis money and his credit were both gone, 
 and the error could not be retrieved. He could not even pay his 
 printers the residue of their account, and he had, in consequence, 
 to endure some emphatic observations from Mr. Story on the mad- 
 ness and presumption of his scheme. " Did n't I tell you so ?" said 
 the other printers. " Everybody," says Dr. Sheppard, " abused me, 
 except Horace Greeley. He spoke very kindly, and told me not to 
 mind what Story said." The doctor, thenceforth, washed his 
 hands of printers' ink, and entered upon the practice of his pro- 
 fession. 
 
 Nine months after, the Sun appeared, a penny paper, a dingy 
 sheet a little larger tlian a sheet of letter paper. Its success demon- 
 strated the correctness of Dr. Sheppard's calculations, and justified 
 the enthusiasm with which he had pursued his Idea. The office 
 from which the Sun was issued was one of the last which Dr. 
 Sheppard had visited for the purpose of enlisting co-operation. 
 Neither of the proprietors was present, but the ardent schemer ex- 
 pounded his plans to a journeyman, and thus planted the seed which, 
 in September, produced fruit in the form of the Sun, which 'shines 
 for all.' 
 
 This morning, the cheap daily press of this city has issued a hun- 
 dred and fifty thousand sheets, the best of which contain a history 
 of the world for one day, so completely given, so intelligently com 
 
FANNY FERN AND TUK PEA-NUT MERCHANT. 14{) 
 
 mented upon, as to place the New York Press at the head of the 
 journalism of the world. Tlie Cheap Press, he it observed, had; 
 first of all, to create itself^ and, secondl}-, to create its Public. The 
 papers of the old school have gone on their way prospering. They 
 are read by the class that read them formerly. But — mark that 
 long line of hackmen, each seated on his box waiting for a customer, 
 and each reading his morning paper ! Observe the paper that is 
 thrust into the pocket of the omnibus driver. Look into shops and 
 factories at the dinner hour, and note how many of the men are 
 reading tlieir newspaper as they eat their dinner. All this is new. 
 All this has resulted from the Chatham-street cogitations of Hora- 
 tio Davis Slieppard. 
 
 A distinguisiied authoress of this city relates the following cir- 
 cumstance, which occurred last summer : 
 
 THE MAN WHO DOES TAKE THE PAPER. 
 
 To the Editor of The JV. Y. Tribune. 
 
 Sir : — Not long since I read in your paper an article headed " the man 
 who never took a newspaper." In contrast to this I would relate to you a 
 little incident which came under my own observation : 
 
 Having been disappointed the other morning in receiving that part of my 
 breakfast contained in The N. Y. Daily Tribune, I dispatched a messenger 
 to see what could be done in the way of satisfaction. After half an hour's 
 diligent search he returned, much to my chagrin, empty-handed. Recollecting 
 an old copy set me at school after this wise : " If you want a thing done do it 
 yourself," I seized my bonnet and sallied forth. Not far from my domicil 
 appears each morning, with the rising sun, an old huckster-man, whose stock 
 in trade consists of two empty barrels, across which is thrown a pro tern, 
 counter in the shape of a plank, a pint of pea-nuts, si.t sticks of peppermint 
 candy, half a dozen choleric looking pears and apples, copies of the daily 
 papers, and an old stubby broom, with which the owner carefully brushes up 
 the nut-shells dropped by graceless urchins to the endangerment of his side- 
 walk lease. 
 
 "Have you this morning's Tribune 1" said I, looking as amiable as I 
 knew how. 
 
 " No ilfa'am," was the decided reply. 
 
 " Why — yes, you have," said I, laying my hand on the desired number. 
 
 "Well, you canH have that, Ma'am," said the disconcerted peanut mer* 
 chant, "for I haven't read it myself!" 
 
 " I '11 give you three cents for it," said I. 
 
 7 
 
140 THE FIRM CONTINUES. 
 
 (A shake of the head ) 
 
 " Four cents ?" 
 
 (Another shake.) 
 
 "Sixpence?" (I was getting excited) 
 
 " It 's no use, Ma'am," said the persistent old follow. " It 's the only num- 
 ber I could get, and I toll you that nobody shall have that Tribune till I have 
 read it myself !" 
 
 You should have seen, Mr. Editor, the shapeless hat, the mosaic coat, the 
 tattered vest, and the extraordinary pair of trousers that were educated up 
 to that Tribune — it was a picture ! Fanny Febn. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE FIRM CONTIlSrUES 
 
 Lottery printing — The Constitutionalist— Dudley S. Gregory — The lottery suicide— 
 The firm prospers — Sudden death of Mr. Story — A new partner — Mr. (Jreeley as a 
 master — A dinner story — Sylvester Graham— Horace Greeley at the Graham 
 House — The New Yorker projected— James Gordon Bennett. 
 
 The firm of Greeley and Story was not seriously injured by tlu 
 failure of the Morning Post, They stopped printing it in time, and 
 their loss was not more than fifty or sixty dollars. Meanwhile, 
 their main stay was Sylvester's Bank Note Reporter, which yielded 
 about fifteen dollars' worth of composition a week, payment for which 
 was sure and regular. In a few weeks Mr. Story was fortunate 
 enough to prociu-e a considerable quantity of lottery printing. This 
 was profitable work, and the firm, thenceforth, paid particular at- 
 tention to that branch of business, and our hero acquired great dex- 
 terity in setting up and arranging the list of prizes and drawings. 
 
 Among other things, they had, for some time, the printing of a 
 small tri-weekly paper called the ConstitutioiiaUst, which was the 
 organ of the great lottery dealers, and the vehicle of lottery new.<3, a 
 small, dingy quarto of four pages, of which one page only wni" 
 devoted to reading matter, the rest being occupied by lotter? 
 tables and advertisements. The heading of this interesting peri 
 
DCDLEY 8. GREGORY. 147 
 
 odical was as follows: " The Constitutionalist, Wilinington, Dela- 
 ware. Devoted to tlio Interests of Literature, Internal Iinprove- 
 Tuent, Coinriion Scliools, &c., &c." Tlie lust half square of tlie last 
 column of the Constitutionalist's last page contained a standing 
 advertisement, which read thus: — 
 
 " Greeley and Story, No. 54 Liberty-street, New York, respectfully 
 solicit the patronage of the public to their business of Letter- Press 
 Printing, particularly Lottery Printing, such as schemes, periodicals, 
 &c., which will bo executed on favorable terms." 
 
 Horace Greeley, who had by tliis time become an inveterate 
 paragraph ist, and was scribbler-general to tlie circle in which ho 
 moved, did not disdain to contribute to the first page of the Coii- 
 fetitutionalist. The only set of the paper which has been preserved 
 I have examined ; and though many short articles are pointed out 
 by its proprietor, as written by Mr. Greeley, I find none of the 
 slightest present interest, and none which throw any liglit upon 
 his feelings, thoughts or habits, at the time when they were writ- 
 ten. He wrote well enough, however, to impress his friends with 
 a high idea of his talent; and liis prompt fidelity in all his transac- 
 tions, at this period, secured him one friend, who, in addition to a 
 host of other good qualities, chanced to be the possessor, or wielder, 
 of extensive means. This friend, at various subsequent crises of 
 our liero's life, proved to be a friend indeed, because a friend in 
 need. They sat together, long after, the printer and the patron, in 
 the representative's hall at Washington, as members of the thirtieth 
 Congress. Why shall I not adorn this page by writing on it the 
 name of the kindly, the munifitent Dudley S. Gregory, to whose 
 wise generosity, Jersey City, and Jersey citizens, owe so mucli ; in 
 wliose hands large possessions are far more a i)ublic than a private 
 good ? 
 
 Mr. Gregory was, in 1833, the agent or manager of a great hjttery 
 association, and he had much to do with arranging the tables and 
 schemes published in the Constitutionalist. This brought him in 
 contact with the senior member of the firm of Greeley and Story, 
 to whose talents his attention was soon called by a particular circum- 
 stance. A young man, who had lost all his property by the lot- 
 tery, in a moment of desperation committed suicide. A. great hue 
 tnd cry arose all over the country against lotteries ; and many 
 
,l48 THE FIRM CONTINUES. 
 
 newspapers cli-niored for their suppression by law. The lottery 
 dealers were alarmed. In the midst of this excitement, Horace 
 Greeley, while standing at the case, composed aa article on the 
 subject, the purport of which is said to have been, that the argu- 
 ment for and against lotteries was not aflfected by the suicide of that 
 young man ; but it simply proved, that he, the suicide, was a per- 
 son of weak character, and had nothing to do with the questif n 
 whether the State ought, or ought not, to license lotteries. Tl is 
 article was inserted in one of the lottery papers, attracted considtr- 
 able attention, and made Mr. Gregory aware that his printer was 
 not an ordinary man. Soon after, Mr. Greeley changed his op a- 
 ion on the subject of lotteries, and advocated their suppressi )n 
 by law. 
 
 Greeley and Story were now prosperous printers. Their businf as 
 steadily increased, and they began to accumulate capital. The ter n 
 of thei4' copartnership, however, was short. The great dissolver (£ 
 partnerships. King Death himself, dissolved theirs in the seven ,h 
 month of its existence. On the 9th of July, Francis Story we tt 
 down the bay on an excursion, and never returned alive. He wj.s 
 drowned by the upsetting of a boat, and his body was brought ha.(k 
 to the city the same evening. There had existed between the>.e 
 young partners a warm friendship. Mr. Story's admiration of the 
 character and talents of our hero amounted to enthusiasm; and 
 he, on his part, could not but love the man who so loved liiin. When 
 he went up to the coffin to look for the last time on the marble 
 features that had never turned to his with an unkind expression, he 
 said, " Poor Story ! shall I ever meet with any one who will bear 
 ■vith me as he did?" To the bereaved family Horace Greeley be- 
 haved witli the most scrupulous justice, sending Mr. Story's mother 
 half of all the little outstanding accounts as soon as they were paid, 
 and receiving into the vacant place a brother-in-law of his deceased 
 partner, Mr. Jonas Winchester, a gentleman now well known to the 
 press and the pe()i)le of this country. 
 
 A short time before, he had witnessed the marriage of Mr. Win- 
 chester by the Episcopal form. He was deeply impressed with the 
 ceremony, listening to it in an attitude expressive of the profoundest 
 interest; and when it was over, he exclaimed aloud, "That's the 
 
BYLVESTER GRAHAM. 149 
 
 most beautiful service I ever saw. If over I am married it shall bo 
 by that form." 
 
 The business of "Greeley and Co." went on prospering through 
 the year; but increase of means made not the sliglitcst difference 
 in our hero's habits or appearance, llis indifference to dress was 
 a chronic complaint, and the ladies of his partner's family tried in 
 ■vain to coax and laugh him into a conformity with the usages of 
 society. Tiiey hardly succeeded in inducing him to keep liis shirt 
 buttoned over his white bosom, " He was always a clean man, vou 
 know," says one of them. .There was not even the show or pre- 
 tence of discipline in the office. One of the journeymen made an 
 outrageous caricature of his employer, and showed it to him one 
 day as he came from dinner. "Who's that?" asked the man. 
 "That's me," said the master, with a smile, and passed in to his 
 work. The men made a point of appearing to differ in opinion from 
 him on every subject, because they liked to hear him talk ; and, 
 one day, after a long debate, he exclaimed, " Why, men, if I were 
 to say that that black man there was black, you'd all swear he was 
 white." He worked with -all his former intensity and absorption. 
 Often, such conversations as these took place in the office about the 
 middle of the day : 
 
 (H. G., looking up from his work)— Jonas, have I been to dinner? 
 
 (Mr. Winchester) — You ought to know best. I don't know 
 
 (H. G.) — John, have I been to dinner? 
 
 (John) — I believe not. Has he, Tom ? 
 
 To which Tom would reply ' no,' or ' yes,' according to his own 
 recollection or John's wink ; and if the office generally concurred in 
 Tom's decision, Horace would either go to dinner or resume his 
 work, in unsuspecting accordance therewith. 
 
 It was about this time that he embraced the first of his two 
 "isms" (he has never had but two). Graham arose and lectured, 
 and made a noise in the world, and obtained followers. Tlie sub- 
 stance of his message was that We, the people of the United States, 
 are in the habit of taking our food in too concentrated a form. 
 Bulk is necessary as well as nutriment; brown bread is better 
 than white ; and meat should be eaten only once a day, or never, 
 said the Rev. Dr. Graham. Stimulants, he added, were pernicious, 
 and their apparent necessity arises solely from too concentrated, and 
 
J 50 THE FIHM COynSUTLB. 
 
 therefore indigestible food. A simple message, and one most obvi- 
 ously true. The wonder is, not that he should have obtained fol- 
 lowers, but that there should have been found one human being so 
 besottedly ignorant and so incapable of being instructed as to deny 
 the truth of his leading principles. Graham was a remarkable man. 
 He was one of those whom nature has gifted with the power of 
 taking an interest in human welfare. He was a discoverer of the 
 facts, that most of us are sick, and that none of us need be ; that 
 disease is impious and dkgracefal, the result, in almost every in- 
 Btance, of folly or crime. He exonerated God from the aspersions 
 cast upon His wisdom and goodness by those who attribute disease 
 to Ilis " mysterious dispensations," and laid all the blame and shame 
 of the ills ihdXfleiih endures at the door of those who endure them. 
 Graham was one of tbe two or three men to whom this nation 
 might, with some propriety, erect a monument. Some day, perhaps, 
 a man will take the trouble to read Graham's two tough and wordy 
 volumes, and present the substance of them to the public in a form 
 which will not repel, but win the reader to perusal and convic- 
 tion. 
 
 Horace Greeley, like every other thinking person that heard Dr. 
 Graham lecture, was convinced that upon the whole he was right. 
 He abandoned the use of stimulants, and took care in selecting his 
 food, to see that there was the proper proportion between its bulk 
 and its nutriment ; i. e. he ate Graham bread, little meat, and plen- 
 ty of rice, Indian meal, vegetables and fruit. He went, after a time, 
 to board at the Graham house, a hotel conducted, as its name im- 
 ported, on Graham principles, the rules and regulations having 
 been written by Dr. Graham himself. The first time our friend ap- 
 peared at the table of the Grahatn House, a silly woman who lived 
 there tried her small wit upon him. 
 
 " It 's lucky," said she to the landlady, " that you 've no cat in 
 the house." 
 
 " "Why ?" asked the landlady. 
 
 " Because," was the killirig reply, " if you had, the cat would cer- 
 tainly take that man with the white head for a gosling, and fly at 
 him." 
 
 Gentlemen who boarded with him at the Graham House, remem- 
 ber him as a Portentious Anomaly, one who, on ordinary occasions, 
 
EDITOR OF THE NEW YORKER. 151 
 
 said nothing, but was occasionally roused to most vehement argu- 
 ment ; a man much given to reading and cold-water baths. 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1834, the dream of editorship re- 
 vived in the soul of Horace Greeley. A project for starting a week- 
 ly paper began to be agitated in the office. Tlie firm, which then 
 consisted of three members, 11. Greeley, Jonas Winchester, and E. 
 Sibbett, considered itself worth three thousand dollars, and was fur- 
 ther of opinion, that it contained within itself an amount of edito- 
 rial talent sufficient to originate and conduct a family paper supe- 
 rior to any then existing. Tlie firm was correct in both opinions, 
 and the result was — the New Yorker. 
 
 An incident connected with tlie job office of Greeley & Co. Is, 
 perhaps, worth mentioning here. One James Gordon Bennett, a 
 person then well known as a smart writer for the press, came to 
 Horace Greeley, and exhibiting a fifty-dollar bill and some other 
 notes of smaller denomination as his cash capital, invited him to 
 join in setting up a new daily paper, the New York Herald. Our 
 hero declined the offer, but recommended James Gordon to apply 
 to another printer, naming one, who he thought would like to 
 share in such an enterprise. To liim the editor of the Herald did 
 apply, and with success. Tlie Herald appeared soon after, under 
 the joint proprietorship of Bennett and the printer alluded to. Up- 
 on tlie subsequent burning of the Herald office, the partners sepa- 
 rated, and the Herald was thenceforth conducted by Bennett alone. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 EDITOR OF THE NEW YORKER. 
 
 Character of the Paper— Its Early Fortunfrii— Happiness of the Editor— Scene in the Of- 
 flce — Specimens of Horace Greeley's Poetry — Subjects of his Essays— FJis Opinions 
 then— His Marriage— The Silk-sloclting Sl<jry — A day in Washington- His impress- 
 ions of the St-nate — Pecuniary dilBculties- Causes of the New-Yorkor's ill-success 
 aa a Business- The missing leUers— The Editor gets a nickname — The Agonies 
 of a Debtor— Park Benjamin— Henry J. Raymond. 
 
 Ltjckilt for the purposes of the present writer, Mr. Greeley is 
 the most autobiographical of editors. He takes his readers into hia 
 
152 EDITOR OP THE NEW YORKER. 
 
 confidence, his sanctum, and his iron safe. He has not the least ob« 
 jection to tell the public the number of his subscribers, the amount 
 of his receipts, the excess of his receipts over his expenditures, or 
 the excess of his expenditures over his receipts. Accordingly, the 
 whole history of the New Yorker, and the story of its editor's joys 
 and sorrows, his trials and his triumphs, lie plainly uid fully writ- 
 ten in the New Yorker itself. 
 
 The New Yorker was, incomparably, the best newspaper of its 
 kind that had ever been published in this country. It was printed, 
 at first, upon a large folio sheet; afterwards, in two forms, folio and 
 quarto, the former at two dollars a year, the latter at three. Its 
 contents were of four kinds ; literary matter, selected from home 
 and foreign periodicals, and well selected ; editorial articles by the 
 editor, vigorously and courteously expressed ; news, chiefly politi- 
 cal, compiled with an accuracy new to American journalism; city, 
 literary, and miscellaneous paragraphs. The paper took no side in 
 politics, though the ardent convictions of the editor were occasioL 
 ally manifest, in spite of himself. The heat and fury of some of 
 his later writings never characterize the essays of the New Yorker. 
 He was always gentle, however strong and decided ; and there was 
 a modesty and candor in his manner of writing that made the sub- 
 scriber a friend. For example, in the very first number, announc- 
 ing the publication of certain mathematical books, he says, " As we 
 are not ourselves conversant with the higher branches of mathemat- 
 ics, we cannot pretend to speak authoritatively upon the merits of 
 these publications" — a kind of avowal which omniscient editors are 
 not prone to make, 
 
 A paper, that lived long, never stole into existence more quietly 
 than the New Yorkei*. Fifteen of the personal friends of the edi- 
 tors had promised to become subscribers ; and when, on tlie 22d ot 
 March, 1834, the first number appeared, it sold to the extent of one 
 hundred copies. No wonder. Neither of the proprietors had any 
 reputation with the public ; all of them were very young, and the 
 editor evidently supposed that it was only necessary to make a good 
 paper in order to sell a great many copies. The ' Publishers' Ad 
 dress,' indeed, expressly said : — 
 
 " There is one disadvantage attending our debut which is seldom encouu 
 
SCENE IN THE OFFICE. 153 
 
 tored in the outset of periodicals n^ipirlng to general popularity and patron- 
 age. Ours is not blazoned through the land as, ' The Cheapest Periodical in 
 the World,' 'The Largest Paper ever Published,' or any of the captivating 
 clap-traps wherewith enterprising gentlemen, possessed of a convenient stock 
 of assurance, are wont to usher in their successive experiments on the gulli- 
 bility of the Public. No likenesses of eminent and favorite authors will em- 
 bellish our title, while they disdain to write for our columns. No ' distin- 
 guished literary and fashionable characters ' have been dragged in to bolstef 
 up a rigmarole of preposterous and charlatan pretensions. And indeed so 
 serious is this deficiency, that the first (we may say the only) objection which 
 has been started by our most judicious friends in the discussion of our plans 
 xnd prospects, has invariably been this : — ' You do not indulge sufficiently in 
 high-sounding pretensions. You cannot succeed without humbug.' Our an- 
 swer has constantly been : — ' We shall try,' and in the spirit of this deter- 
 mination, we respectfully solicit of our fellow-citizens the extension of that 
 share of patronage which they shall deem warranted by our performances 
 rather than our promises." 
 
 The public took the New Yorker at its word. Tlie second num- 
 ber biid a sale of nearly two hundred copies, and for tliree months, 
 the increase averaged a hundred copies a week. In September, the 
 circulation was 2,500 ; and the second volume began with 4,500. 
 During the first year, three hundred papers gave the New Yorker 
 a eulogistic notice. The editor became, at once, a person known 
 and valued throughout the Union. He enjoyed his position thor- 
 oughly, and be labored not more trul}' with all bis might, than with 
 all his heart. 
 
 The spirit in which he performed bis duties, and the glee with 
 ■which he entered into the comicalities of editorial life, cannot be 
 more agreeably shown than by transcribing his own account of a 
 Scene which was enacted in the office of the New Yorker, soon 
 after its establishment. The article was entitled 'Editorial Lux- 
 uries.' 
 
 We love not the ways of that numerous class of malcontents who are per- 
 petually finding fault with their vocation, and endeavoring to prove them- 
 gelves the most miserable dogs in existence. If they really think so, why 
 under the sun do they not abandon their present evil ways and endeavor to 
 hit upon something more endurable 7 Nor do we not deem these grumbleri 
 more plentiful among the brethren of the quill than in other professions, sim 
 ply because the graaniugs uttered through the press are more widely circu 
 
154 EDITOR OF THE NEW YORKER. 
 
 lated than -rhen merely breathed to the night-air of some unsympathtiing 
 friend who forgets all about them the next minute ; but we do think the whole 
 business is in most ridiculously bad taste. An Apostle teaches us of " groanings 
 which cannot be uttered" — it would be a great relief to readers, if editorial 
 groanings were of this sort. Now, we pride ourselves rather on the delights 
 of our profession; and we rejoice to say, that we find them neither few noi 
 inconsiderable. There is one which even now flitted across our path, which, 
 to tell the truth, was rather above the average — in fact, so good, that we can 
 not afford to monopolize it. even though we shall be constrained to allow oui 
 reader a peep behind the curtain. So, here it is : 
 
 [Scene. Editorial Sanctum — Editor solus — i. e. immersed in thought and 
 newspapers, with a journal in one hand and busily spoiling white paper with 
 the other — only two particular friends talking to him at each elbow. Devil 
 calls for ' copy ' at momentary intervals. Enter a butternut-colored gentle- 
 man, who bows most emphatically.] 
 
 Gent. Are you the editor of the New Yorker, sir 7 
 
 Editor. The same, sir, at your service. 
 
 Gent. Did you write this, sir ? 
 
 Editor. Takes his scissored extract and reads — ' So, when we hear the 
 brazen vender of quack remedies boldly trumpeting his miraculous cures, or 
 the announcement of the equally impudent experimenter on public credulity 
 {Goward) who announces, that he 'teaches music in six lessons, and half a 
 dozen distinct branches of science in as many weeks,' we may be grieved, and 
 even indignant, that such palpable deceptions of the simple and unwary should 
 not be discountenanced and exposed.' 
 
 That reads like me, sir. I do not remember the passage ; but if you found 
 »> in the editorial columns of the New Yorker, I certainly did write it. 
 
 Gent. It was in No. 15. " The March of Humbug." 
 
 Editor. Ah ! now I recollect it — there is no mistake in my writing that 
 article. 
 
 Gent. Did you allude to me, sir, in those remarks'? 
 
 Editor. You will perceive that the name ' Goward' has been introduced 
 by yourself — there is nothing of the kind in my paper. 
 
 Gent. Yes, sir ; but I wish to know whether you intended those remarks to 
 apply to me. 
 
 Editor. Well, sir, without pretending to recollect exactly what I may have 
 been thinking of while writing an article three months ago, I will frankly say, 
 that I think I must have had you in my eye while penning that paragraph. 
 
 Gent. Well, sir, do you know that such remarks are grossly unjust and im 
 pertinent to me 1 
 
 Editor. I know nothing of you, sir, but from the testimony of friends and 
 your own advertisements in the papers — and these combine to assure me 
 that j'ou are a quack. 
 
HORACE Greeley's poetry. , 155 
 
 Gent. That is what my enemies say, sir; but if you examine my certi- 
 ficates, sir, you will know the contrary. 
 
 Editor. I am open to conviction, sir. 
 
 Gent. AVell, sir, I have been advertising in the Traveler for some time, 
 and have paid them a great deal of money, and here they come out this week 
 and abuse me — so, I have done with them ; and, now, if you will say you will 
 not attack mo in this fashion, I will patronize you (holding out some tempt- 
 ing advertisements). 
 
 Editor. Well, sir, I shall be very happy to advertise for you ; but I can 
 give no pledge as to the course I shall feel bound to pursue. 
 
 Gent. Then, I suppose you will continue to call me a quack. 
 
 Editor. I do not know that I am accustomed to attack my friends and 
 patrons ; but if I have occasion to speak of you at all, it shall be in such 
 terms as my best judgment shall dictate. 
 
 Gent. Then, I am to understand you as my enemy. 
 
 Editor. Understand me as you please, sir; I shall endeavor to treat you 
 and all men with fairness. 
 
 Gent. But do you suppose I am going to pay money to those who ridicule 
 me and hold me up as a quack? 
 
 Editor. You will pay it where you please, sir — I must enjoy my opinions. 
 
 Gent. Well, but is a man to be judged by what his enemies say of him "J 
 Every man has his enemies. 
 
 Editor. I hope not, sir ; I trust I have not an enemy in the world. 
 
 Gent. Yes, you have — / 'm your enemy ! — and the enemy of every one who 
 misrepresents me. I can get no justice from the press, except among the 
 penny dailies. I '11 start a paper myself before a year. I '11 show that 
 some folks can edit newspapers as well as others. 
 
 Editor. The field is open, sir, — go ahead. 
 
 [Exit in a rage. Rev. J. R. Goward, A. M., Teacher 
 (in six lessons) of everything.] 
 
 Another proof of the happine-ss of the early days of our hero's 
 editorial career might be found in the habit he then had of writing 
 verses. It will, perhaps, surprise some of his present readers, who 
 know him only as one of the most practical of writers, one given 
 to politics, sub-soil plows, and other subjects supposed to be unpo- 
 etical, to learn that he was in early life a very frequent, and by no 
 means altogether unsuccessful poetizer. Many of the early numbers 
 of the New-Yorker contain a poem by "II. G." He has published, 
 in all, about thirty-five poems, of which the New-Yorker contains 
 twenty; the rest may be found in the Southern Literary Messenger, 
 and various other magazines, annuals, and occasional volumes. I 
 
156 EDITOR OF THE NEW YORKER. 
 
 have seen no poem of Lis which does not contain the material of 
 poetry — tliought, feehng, fancy; hut in few of them was tlie poet 
 enabled to give his thought, feeling and fancy complete expression. 
 A specimen or two of his poetry it would be an unj)ardouable omis- 
 sion not to give, in a volume like this, particularly as his poetic 
 period is past. 
 
 The following is a tribute to the memory of one who was the ideal 
 hero of his youtliful politics. It was published in the first number 
 of the New-Yorker : 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM WIRT. 
 
 Rouse not the muffled drum, 
 Wake not the martial trumpet's mournful sound 
 
 For him whose mighty voice in death is dimb ; 
 Who, in the zenith of his high renown, 
 To the grave Avent down. 
 
 Invoke no cannon's breath 
 To swell the requiem o'er his ashes poured — 
 Silently bear him to the house of death : — 
 The aching hearts by whom he was adored, 
 
 He won not with the sword. 
 
 No ! let affection's tear 
 Be the sole tribute to his memory paid ; 
 Earth has.no monument so justly dear 
 To souls like his in purity arrayed — 
 
 Never to fade. 
 
 I loved thee, patriot Chief! 
 I battled proudly 'neath thy baimer pure ; 
 
 Mine is the breast of woe — the heart of grief, 
 Which suffer on unmindful of a cure — 
 Proud to endure. 
 
 But vain the voice of wail 
 For thee, from this dim vale of sorrow fled — 
 
NEUo'a TOMB. 157 
 
 Earlh has no spell wlicwe magic sluill not fail 
 To light th«> gloom that Hhrouds thy narrow bed, 
 Or woo thee from tlie dead. 
 
 Then take thy lonfj repose 
 Beneath the shelter of the deep green sod : 
 
 Deatli but a brighter halo o'er thee throws — 
 Thy fame, thy soul alike have spurned the clod— 
 
 Kest thee in God. 
 
 A series of poems, entitled "Historic Penciling^," appear in the 
 first volume of the New Y(jrker, over the initials " II. G." These 
 were the poetized reminiscences of his boyish historical reading. Of 
 these poems the following is, perhaps, the most pl'«u.sLug and char- 
 acteristic : 
 
 NERO'S TOMB. 
 
 "When Nero peri.fho'J by the justcst doom, 
 
 ♦ * * * ♦ 
 
 Some hand unseen strewed flowers upon hia grave. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 The tyrant slept in death ; 
 His long career of blood had ceased forever, 
 
 And but an empire's execrating breath 
 Remained to tell of crimes exainpled never. 
 
 Alone remained? Ah I no; 
 Rome's scathed and blackened walls retold the story 
 
 Of conflagrations broad and baleful glow. 
 Such was the lialo of the despot's glory I 
 
 And round his gilded tomb 
 Came crowds of sufferers— but not to weep — 
 
 Not theirs the wish to light the hr)use of gloom 
 "With sympathy. No ! Curses wild and deep 
 
 His only requiem made. 
 But soft! see, strewed around his dreamless bed 
 
 The trophies bright of many a verdant glade, 
 The living's tribute to the honored dead. 
 
158 EDITOK OF THE NEW YORKER. 
 
 What mean those gentle flowers ? 
 
 So sweetly smiling in the face of wrath- 
 Children of genial sniis and fostering showers. 
 
 Now ernshed and trampled in the million's path — 
 What do they, withering lierc ? 
 
 Ah ! spurn them not ? they tell of sorrow's flow — • 
 There has been one to shed affection's tear, 
 
 And 'mid a nation's joy, to feel a pang of wool 
 
 No! scorn them not, those flowers, 
 They speak too deeply to each feeling heart — 
 
 They tell that (Juilt hath still its holier hours — 
 That none may o 'er from earth unmourned depart ; 
 
 That none hath all effaced 
 The spell of Eden o'er his spirit cast, 
 
 The heavenly image in his features traced — " 
 Or quenched the love unchanging to the last I 
 
 Another of the ' Historic Pencilings,' was on the 'Death of Per- 
 icles.' Tliis was its last stanza : — 
 
 No I let the brutal conqueror 
 
 Still glut his soul with war, 
 And let the ignoble million 
 
 With sliouts surround his car; 
 But dearer far the lasting fame 
 
 Which twines its wreaths with peace — 
 Give me the tearless memory 
 
 Of the mighty one of Greece. 
 
 Only one of his poems seems to have been inspired by the ten- 
 der passion. It is dated May 81st, 1884. AVho tliis bright Vision 
 was to whom the poem was addressed, or whether it was ever vis 
 ible to any but the poet's eye, has not transpired, 
 
 FANTASIES. 
 
 They deem me cold, the thoughtless and light-hearted, 
 In that I worshij) not at beauty's shrine ; 
 
FANTAPIEH. 
 
 159 
 
 Tlioy deem me ecild, tliaL tliroii^^h tJie yeiiiH di^mrted, 
 I ne'er liave bowed mo to Home lui'iii divine. 
 
 They deem mo proud, tliiil, wliero l,lio world liiil.li fIaU,ere<l, 
 I ne'er have knelt, to litn^^nisii (»r adoro ; 
 
 'I'liey tliiiik not tliut tlio liomago idly HCiittercd 
 i.eaveH tlie luarL i)ankrii|)t, ere its Hjiriii}^ in o'er. 
 
 N(j ! in my Honl there glow.s hiit one l>riglit virion, 
 
 And o'er my Jieart tliero rules but one loud Hpell, 
 liriglit'iiiiif^ my Iioiiih of hleep with ilreaniH Elyniau 
 
 Of ono unHeen, yet loved, aye eherirthed well ; 
 Unseen? Ah ! no; her [)refienee rouml mo lingers, 
 
 Chasing each wayward thought that tem])t« to rove; 
 Weaving AllV-etion'H well with fairy fingei-s, 
 
 And vv;;Uing tlioughts of I'Uiity and love. 
 
 Htar ol' my In.-aven ! thy hi;ams tihall guide me ever, 
 
 'i'hough eloudn obwcui'e, and thorns bestrew my jjatli ; 
 As H weeps my bark adown life's arrowy river 
 
 Thy angel Hinile Hhall soothe misf<ji'tune'H wratli ; 
 And ah ! fihould Fate ere speed her deadliest arrow, 
 
 Should vice allure to plunge in her dark wea, 
 Be this the only shield my houI shall borrow — 
 
 One glance to Heaven — ono burni/ig thought of theol 
 
 1 ne'er on earth may gazo on those liright features, 
 
 Nor drink the light of that soul-beaming eye; 
 But wander on 'mid earth's unthinking creatures, 
 
 L'nloved in life, and unlamented die; 
 But ne'er shall fade the spell tluju weavest o'er me. 
 
 Nor fail the star that lights my lonely way ; 
 Htill Khali the night's fond ilreams that light rest/jro mo, 
 
 Though Fate forbid its gentler beams by day. 
 
 I have not dreamed that gold or ^ems adorn tlieo — 
 That Flatt'ry's voice may vaunt thy matchlefes form; 
 
 I little reek tiiat worldlings all may scorn thee, 
 Be but thy soul still pure, thy /'- «iir,5» warm , 
 
1(U) KIMIOU HI' lllK NKW VOliKlCK. 
 
 .1h> lliiiio brif;!!! luti'llod's unr;iirui^- li-(<isiiros, 
 
 Ami I'lU'sy's moro iK'0|>ly liiiUowoil >*\hA\, 
 Ami Kiiilli tlio /.osl wliicli lu'ij4,liIoiis all lliv ploasiirort, 
 
 With tnifitinf-' K>vo Miiitl of u\\ .mouI I Ijirowoll I 
 
 Ono moro pot'iii i-JMiiiis \A:\co \\c\\\ if iVoiii its !mtol)it>f;riii>lu »il 
 ohnrai-tof mIimic. 'riio-^o \vlu> l><<liovo llu-ro />• siicli a tirmij; as ivf^on- 
 oration, wlio know ilmt a man <•■';( act and livo in a tlisinloivslotl 
 spirit, will not read tiiis poom with cntiii^ iniToiiniily. it appraroil 
 in tho Sonllu'tn latoiary Mosson^or for Auj.'.iist, I SID. 
 
 TU K K A I>i:i> ST A KS. 
 
 I ii\iml tlio timo wlion lloavcn's lii!;li doino 
 
 >V<>ko in my sixil a wondrous llirill - 
 NVIuMi ovsMv loaf in Natnro's tomo 
 
 Hospoko Croat ion's marvols still ; 
 >Vlion monntain olilV and swocpinj.'; •;Iado, 
 
 As luoru unolosod lior rtisy bars, 
 "\Yoko Joys intonso- bnt. naught o'er hado 
 
 My heart loap np, liko yon, bri!;ht stars! 
 
 Calm niinistrnnts to (lod's high glory! 
 
 Puro g(Mus an>nnd 11 is hnrning throno ! 
 Muto watohor.s o\'r m:ui's strange, sad story 
 
 Of Crimo and N\\)o through agos goiio I 
 'Twas yours tho mild and hallowing spoil 
 
 That lured me fnun ignoble gleams — 
 Taught me whore .sweeter fountains swell 
 
 Than over Moss Mio worUlling'.s dreams. 
 
 How changed was life! a waste no nu>ro, 
 
 l>osot by NVant^ and Tain, and Wrong; 
 Karth seemed a glad and fairy shore, 
 
 \'t>cal with Hope's inspiring song. 
 lUit yo, bright, sentinels of Heaven! 
 
 Far glories of Night's railiant sky ! 
 Who, as yo gemmed the br»>w' i>f Kvoii, 
 
 llaa over dooinod Man born to ilio ? 
 * » « « 
 
SUBJECTS OF HIS ESSAYS. 161 
 
 'Tis faded now, that wondrous grace 
 
 That once on Heaven's forehead shone ; 
 I read no more in Nature's lace 
 
 A soul responsive to my own. 
 A dimness on my eye and spirit, 
 
 Stern time has cast in liurrying by; 
 Few joys my hardier years inherit, 
 
 And leaden dullness rules the sky. 
 
 Yet mourn not I — a stern, high duty 
 
 Now nerves my arm and fires my brain ; 
 Perisli the dream of shapes of beauty, 
 
 So that this strife be not in vain ; 
 To war on Fraud entrenched with Power — 
 
 On smooth Pretense and specious Wrong — 
 This task be mine, though Fortune lower ; 
 
 For this be banished sky and song. 
 
 The subjects upon whicli the editor of the New Yorker habd tc 
 descant, as editor, contrast curiously with those upon which, as 
 poet, he aspired to sing. Turning over the well-printed pages of 
 that journal, we find calm and rather elaborate essays upon ' The 
 Interests of Labor,' ' Our Relations with France,' ' Speculation,' 
 ' The Science of Agriculture,' ' Usury Laws,' ' The Currency,' ' Over- 
 trading,' ' Divorce of Bank and State,' ' National Conventions,' 'In- 
 ternational Copyright,' 'Relief of the Poor,' 'The Public Lands,' 
 ' Capital Punishment,' ' The Slavery Question,' and scores of others 
 equally unromantic. There are, also, election returns given with 
 great minuteness, and numberless paragraphs recording nomina- 
 tions. The New Yorker gradually became the authority in the de- 
 partment of political statistics. There were many people who did 
 not consider an election 'safe,' or ' lost,' until they saw the figures 
 in the New Yorker. And the New Yorker deserved this distinc- 
 tion ; for there never lived an editor more scrupulous upon the 
 point of literal and absolute c(;rrectness than Horace Greeley. To 
 quote the language of a proof-reader — " If there is a thing that will 
 make Horace furious, it w to have a name spelt wning, cr a mistake 
 
102 EDITOR OF THE NEW YOKKER. 
 
 in election returns."' In fact, lie was morbid ou the subject, till 
 time toughened him ; time, and proof-readers. 
 
 The opinions which he expressed in the columns of the New 
 Yorker are, in general, those to wliich lie still adheres, though on a 
 few subjects he used language wliich lie would not now use. His 
 opinions on those subjects have rather advanced than changed. 
 For example : he is now opposed to the punishment of death in all 
 cases, except when, owing to peculiar circumstances, the immediate 
 safety of the conmiunity demands it. In June, 1830, he wrote: — 
 " And now, having fully expressed our conviction that the punish- 
 ment of death is one which should sometimes be inflicted, we may 
 add, that Ave would have it resorted to as unfreqnently as possible. 
 Nothing, in our view, but cold-blooded, premeditated, unpalliated 
 murder, can fully justify it. Let this continue to be visited with the 
 sternest penalty." 
 
 Another example. The following is part of an article on the 
 Slavery Question, which appeared in July, 1834. It differs from 
 his present writings on" the same subject, not at all in doctrine, 
 though very much in tone. Then, he thought the Nortii the ag- 
 gressor. Since then, we have had Mexican Wars, Nebraska bills, 
 etc., and he now writes as one assailed. 
 
 "To a philosophical observer, the existence of domestic servitude in one 
 portion of the Union while it is forbidden and condcinncd in another, would 
 indeed seem to afford no plausible pretext for variance or alienation. The 
 Union was formed with a perfect knowledge, on the one hand, that slavery ex- 
 isted at the south, and, on the other, that it was utterly disapproved and dis- 
 countenanced at the north. But the framers of the constitution saw no reason 
 for distrust and dissension in this circumstance. AVisely avoiding all discuss- 
 ion of a subject so delicate and exciting, they proceeded to the formation of 
 ' a more perfect union,' which, leaving each section in the possession of its 
 undoubted right of regulating its own internal government and enjoying its 
 own speculative opinions, provided only for the common benefit and mutual 
 well-being of the whole. And why should not this arrangement bo satisfac- 
 tory and perfect 1 Why should not even the existing evils of one section be 
 left to the correction of its own wisdom and virtue, when pointed out by the 
 unerring finger of experience 7 
 
 We entertain no doubt that the system of slavery is at the bottom of most 
 of the evils which afHict the communities of the south — that it has occasioned 
 
ins OPINIONS THEN. 1G3 
 
 the decline of Virginia, of Maryland, of Carolina. We i-ee it even retarding 
 the growth of the new State of Missouri, and causing her to fill far behind 
 her fister Indiana in improvement and population. And we venture to assert, 
 that if the objections to slavery, drawn from a wrrect and enlightened politic 
 cal economy, were once fairly placed before the southern public, they would 
 need no other inducements to impel them to enter upon an immediate and 
 effective course of legislation, with a view to the ultimate extinction of the 
 evil. But, right or wrong, no people have a greater dif-inclination to the lec- 
 tures or even the advice of their neighbors ; and we venture to predict, that 
 whoever shall bring about a change of ofiinion in that quarter, muJit, in this 
 cage, reverse the proverb which declares, that 'a prophet hath honor except 
 in his own country.' " 
 
 ******* 
 
 After extolling the Colonization Society, and condemning the form- 
 ation of anti-slavery societies at tlie North, as irritating and useless, 
 the editor proceeds : — " We hazard the assertion, that there never 
 existed two distinct races — so diverse as to be incapable of amalga- 
 mation — inhabiting the same district of country, and in open and 
 friendly contact with each other, that maintained a perfect equality 
 of political and social condition. * * * It remains to be proved, 
 that the history of the nineteenth century will afford a direct con- 
 tradiction to all former experience. * * * "We cannot close 
 without reiterating the expression of our firm conviction, that if 
 the African race are ever to be raised to a degree of comparative 
 happiness, intelligence, and freedom, it must be in some other region 
 than that which has been the theater of their servitude and degra- 
 dation. They must ' come up out of the land of Egypt and out of 
 the house of bondage ;' even though they should be forced to cross 
 the sea in their pilgrimage and wander forty years in the wilder- 
 ness." 
 
 Again. In 183.5, he had not arrived at the Maine Law, but was 
 feeling his way towards it. lie wrote thus: 
 
 " Were we called upon to indicate simply the course which ahxmld be pursued 
 for the eradication of this crying evil, our compliance would be a far easier 
 matter. We should say, unhesitatingly, that the vending of alcohol, or of 
 liquors of which alcohol forms a leading component, should be regulated by 
 the laws which govern the sale of other insidious, yet deadly, poisons. It 
 should be kept for sale oily by druggists, and dealt out in small portions, 
 and with like regard to the character and ostensible purpose of the applicant 
 
164 EWTOR OF THE NEW YORKER. 
 
 as in the case of its counterpart. i= * * * gut we must not forget, that 
 ■we are to ilotermine simply what may be done bj' the friends of feniperaneo 
 for the advancement of the noble cause in which they are engaged, rather 
 than what the more ardent of them (with whom wo are proud to rank our- 
 Belves) would desire to see accomplished. We are to look at things as they 
 are; and, in that view, all attempts to interdict the sale of into.xicaling liquors 
 in our hotels, our country stores, and our steam-boats, in the present state 
 of public opinion, must be hopelessly, ridiculously futile. * * * * The 
 only available provision bearing on this branch of the traffic, which could be 
 urged with the least prospect of success, is the imposition of a real license- 
 tax — say from $100 to $1000 per annum — which would have the effect oi 
 diminishing the evil by rendering less frequent and less universal the temp- 
 tations which lead to it. But even that, we apprehend, would meet with 
 strenuous opposition from so large and influential a portion of the community, 
 tis to render its adoption and efficiency extremely doubtful." 
 
 The most bold ami .stirring of liis articles in the New Yorker, 
 was one on the "Tyranny of Opinion," whicli was suggested by tliG 
 extraordinary entlui.siastn with which the Fourth of July was cel- 
 ebrated in 1837. A part of this article is the only specimen of the 
 young editor's performance, whicli, as a specimen, can find place in 
 this chapter. The sentiments which it avows, the country has not 
 yet caught up with ; nor will it, for many a year after the hand 
 that wrote them is dust. After an allusion to the celebration, the 
 article proceeds : 
 
 " The groat pervading evil of our social condition is the worship and the 
 bigotry of Opinion. While the theory of our political institutions asserts or 
 implies the absolute freedom of the human mind — the right not only of free 
 thought and discussion, but of the most unrestrained action thereon within 
 the wide boundaries prescribed by the laws of the liind, yet the practical com- 
 mentary upon this noble text is as discordant as imagination can conceive. 
 Beneath the thin veil of a democracy more free than that of Athens in her 
 glory, we cloak a despotism more pernicious and revolting than that of 
 Turkey or China. It is the despotism of Opinion. Whoever ventures to 
 J ropound opinions strikingly at variance with those of the majority, must be 
 content to brave obloquy, contempt and persecution. If political, they ex- 
 clude him from public employment asd trust; if religious, from social inter- 
 course and general regard, if not from absolute rights. However moderately 
 heretical in his political views, he cannot be a justice of the peace, an officer 
 of the customs, or a lamp-lighter; while, if he be positively and frankly 
 skeptical in hia theology, grave judges pronounce him incompetent to gin 
 
niS MARRIAGE. 165 
 
 testimony in courts of justice, though his cliaractcr for veracity be indubitable. 
 That is but a narrow view of the subject which ascribes all this injustice to 
 the errors of parties or individuals; it flows naturally from the vice of the 
 age and country — the tyranny of Opinion. It can never be wholly rectified 
 until the whole community shall be brought to feel and acknowledge, that the 
 only security for public liberty is to be found in the absolute and unqualified 
 freedom of thought and expression, confining penal consequences to acts only 
 which are detrimental to the welfare of society. 
 
 " The philosophical observer from abroad may well be astounded by the 
 gross inconsistencies which are presented by the professions and the conduct 
 of our people. Thousands will flock together to drink in the musical periods 
 of some popular disclaimer on the inalienable rights of man, the inviolability 
 of the immunities granted us by the Constitution and Laws, and the invariable 
 reverence of freemen for the majesty of law. They go away delighted with 
 our institutions, the orator and themselves. The ne.xt day they may be en- 
 gaged in 'lynching' some unlucky individual who has fallen under their 
 sovereign displeasure, breaking up a public meeting of an obnoxious cast, or 
 tarring and feathering some unfortunate lecturer or propagandist,, whose 
 views do not square with their own, but who has precisely the same right to 
 enjoy and propagate his opinions, however erroneous, as though he inculcated 
 nothing but what every one knows and acknowledges already. The shame- 
 lessness of this incongruity is sickening ; but it is not confined to this glaring 
 exhibition. The sheriff, town-clerk, or constable, who finds the political 
 majority in his district changed, either by immigration or the course of 
 events, must be content to change too, or be hurled from his station. Yet 
 what necessary connection is there between his politics and his office ? Why 
 might it not as properly be insisted that a town-oflTicer should be six feet 
 high, or have red hair, if the majority were so distinguished, as that ho 
 should think with them respecting the men in high places and the measures 
 projected or opposed by them? And how does the proscription of a man in 
 any way for obnoxious opinions differ from the most glaring tyranny 1" 
 
 In the Xew Yorker of July ICtli, 1836, may be seen, at the 
 head of a long list of recent marriages, the following interesting an- 
 nouncement: 
 
 "In Immanuel church, Warrenton, North Carolina, on Tues- 
 day morning, 5th inst., by Eev. William Norwood, Mr. Horace 
 Greeley, editor of the New Yorker, to Miss Mary Y. Cheney, of 
 Warrenton, formerly of this city." 
 
 The lady was by profession a teacher, and to use the emphatic 
 language of one of her friends, 'crazy for knowledge.' The ac 
 quaintance had been formed at the Graham House, and was con- 
 
166 EDITOR OF THE NEVT YORKER. 
 
 tinned by correspondence after Miss Cliency, in the pursuit of hei 
 vocation, had removed to Nortli Carolina. Thither the lover hied ; 
 the two became one, and returned together to New York. They 
 were married, as he said he would be, by the Episcopal form. 
 Sumptuous was the attire of the bridegroom ; a suit of fine black 
 broadcloth, and "on this occasion only," a pair of silk stockings! 
 It appears that silk stockings and matrimony were, in his mind, as- 
 sociated ideas, as rings and matrimony, orange blossoms and matri- 
 mony, are in the minds of people in general. Accordingly, he 
 bought a i)air of silk stockings; but trying on his wedding suit pre- 
 vious to his departure for the south, lie found, to his dismay, that 
 the stockings were completely hidden by the affluent terminations 
 of another garment. The question now at once occurred to his log- 
 ical mind, ' What is the use of having silk stockings, if nobody can 
 see that you have them V He laid the case, it is sai-d, before Ms 
 tailor, who, knowing his customer, immediately removed the diffi- 
 culty by cutting away a crescent of cloth from the front of the 
 aforesaid terminations, which rendered the silk stockings obvious 
 to the most casual observer. Such is the story. And I regret 
 that other stories, and true ones, highly honorable to bis head 
 and heart, delicacy forbids the telling of in this place. 
 
 The editor, of course, turned his wedding tour to account in the 
 way of his profession. On his journey southward, llorace Gree- 
 ley first saw Washington, and was impressed favorably by the 
 houses of Congress, then in session, lie wrote admiringly of the 
 Senate: — "That the Senate of the United States is unsurpassed in 
 intellectual greatness by any body of fifty men ever convened, is 
 a trite observation. A phrenologist would fancy a strong con- 
 firmation of his doctrines in the very appearance of the Senate; 
 a physiognomist would find it. The most striking person on the 
 floor is Mr. Clay, who is incessantly in motion, and whose spare, 
 erect form betrays an easy dignity approaching to majesty, and a 
 perfect gracefulness, sucli as I have never seen equaled. His coun- 
 tenance is intelligent and indicative of character; but a glance at 
 his figure while his face was completely averted, would give assur- 
 ance tliat he was no common man. Mr. Callioun is one of the 
 plainest men and certainly the dryest, hardest speaker I ever 
 listened to. The flow of his ideas reminded me of a barrel filled 
 
PECUNIARY DIFFICULTIES. 1G7 
 
 with pebble-i, each of which must find great difficulty in escaping 
 from the very soHdity and number of tiiose pressing upon it and 
 impeding its natural motion. Mr. Calhoun, though far from being 
 a handsome, is still a very remarkable personage ; but Mr. Benton 
 has the least intellectual countenance I ever saw on a senator. Mr. 
 "Webster was not in his place." * * * * u 'pj^^ i^gg^ 
 speech was that of Mr. Crittenden, of Kentucky. That man is not 
 appreciated so highly as he should and nmst bo. lie has a 
 rough readiness, a sterling good sense, a republican manner and 
 feeling, and a vein of biting, though homely satire, Avhich will 
 yet raise him to distinction in the National Councils." 
 
 "Were Greeley and Co. making their fortune meanwliile 1 Far 
 from it. To edit a paper Avell is one thing ; to make it pay as a 
 business is another. The New Yorker had soon become a tiimous, 
 an admired, and an influential paper. Subscriptions poured in ; the 
 establishment looked prosperous ; but it Avas not. The sorry tale 
 of its career as a business is very fully and forcibly told in the vari- 
 ous addresses to, and chats with, Oin- Patrons, which appear in the 
 volumes of 1837, that 'year of ruin,' and of the years of slow re- 
 covery from ruin which followed. In October, 1837, the editor 
 thus stated his melancholy case : 
 
 " Ours is a plain story ; and it shall be plainly told. The New Yorker was 
 established with very moderate expectations of pecuniary advantage, but 
 with strong hopes that its location at the Iiead-quaiters of intelligence for the 
 continent, and its cheapness, would insure it, if well conducted, such a patron- 
 age as would be ultimately adequate, at least, to the bare expenses of its pub- 
 lication. Starting with scarce a shadow of patronage, it had four thousand 
 Eve hundred subscribers at the close of the first year, obtained at an outlay of 
 three thousand dollars beyond the income in that period. This did not mate- 
 rially disappoint the publishers' expectations. Another yenr passed, and their 
 subscription increased to seven thousand, with a further outlay, beyond all re- 
 ceipts, of two thousand dollars. A, third year was commenced with two edi- 
 tions — folio and quarto — of our journal ; and at its close, their conjoint sub- 
 scriptions amounted to near nine thousand five hundred ; yet our receipts had 
 again fallen two thousand dollars behind our absolutely necessary e.xpendi- 
 tares. Such was our situation at the commencement of this year of ruin ; 
 and we found ourselves wholly unable to continue our former reliance on the 
 honor and ultimate good faith of our backward subscribers. Two thousand five 
 hundred of them were stricken from our list, and every pcssible retrenchment of 
 
168 EDITOR OF THE NEW YORKER 
 
 our expondituros effected. With the exercise of the mo«t parsimonious frugal 
 ity, niul iiided by (ho extreme kindness and generous confidence of our friends, 
 we have barely and with great difficulty kept onrbaik afloat. For the future, we 
 have no resource but in the justice and generosity of our patrons. Our humble 
 portion of this world's goods has long since been swallowed up in the all-devour- 
 ing vortex ; both of the Editor's original associates in the undertaking have 
 abandoned it with loss, and those who now fill their places have invested to the 
 full amount of their ability. Not a farthing has been drawn from the concern 
 by any one save for services rendered ; and the allowance to the proprietors 
 having charge respectively of the editorial and publishing departments has 
 been far less than their services would have commanded elsewhere. The last six 
 months have boon more disastrous than any which preceded them, as we have 
 continued to fall behind our expenses without a corresponding increase of pat- 
 ronage. A large amount is indeed due us ; but we find its collection almost 
 impossible, except in inconsiderable portions and at a ruinous expense. All 
 appeals to the honestj' and good faith of the delinquents seem utterly fruit- 
 less. As a last resource, therefore, and one beside which we have no alterna- 
 tive, we hereby announce, that from and after this date, the price of tho New 
 Yorker will be three dollars per annum for tho folio, and four dollars for tho 
 quarto edition. 
 
 " Friends of the New Yorker ! Patrons ! wo appeal to you, not for charity, 
 but for justice. Whoever among you is in our debt, no matter how small the 
 sum, is guilty of a moral wrong in withholding the payment. We bitterly 
 need it — we have a right to expect it. Six years of happiness could not atone 
 for tho horrors which blighted hopes, agonizing embarrassments, and gloomy 
 apprehensions — all arising in great measure from your neglect — have con- 
 spired to heap upon us during the last six months. We have borne all in si- 
 lence : we now tell you we initst have our pay. Our obligations for the next 
 two months are alarmingly heavy, and they must be satisfied, at whatever sac- 
 rifice. We shall cheerfully give up whatever may remain to us of property, 
 and mortgage years of future exertion, sooner than incur a shadow of dishonor, 
 by subjecting those who have credited us to loss or inconvenience. We must 
 pay ; and for tho means of doing it we appeal most earnestly to you. It is 
 possible that wo might still further abuse the kind solicitude of our friends ; 
 but the thought is agonj'. Wo should bo driven to what is but a more delicate 
 mode of beggary, when justice from those who withhold tho hard earnings of 
 our unceasing toil would place us above the revolting necessity ! At any rate, 
 we will not submit to the humiliation without an effort. 
 
 " Wo have struggled until we can no longer doubt that, with the present 
 currency — and there seems little hope of an immediate improvement — we can- 
 not live at our former prices. The suppression of small notes was a blow to 
 cheap city papers, from which there is no hope of recovery. With a currency 
 including notes of two and three dollars, one half our receipts would come to 
 
rECUNlARY DIFPICLLTIES. 109 
 
 US directly from the subscribers; without such notes, we must sibmit to an 
 agent's charge on nearly every collection. Besides, the notes from the South 
 Western States are now at from twenty to thirty pc?r cent, discount; and have 
 been more : those from the West range from six to twenty. All notes beyond 
 the Delaware River range from twice to ten times the di.-count charged upon 
 them when we started the New Yorker. We cannot afford to depend exclu- 
 eively upon the patronage to be obtained in our immediate neighborhood ; we 
 cannot retain di.^tant patronage without receiving the money in which alone 
 our subscribers can pay. But one course, then, is left us — to tax our valuable 
 patronage with the delinquencies of the worse than worthless — the paying for 
 the non-paying, and those who send us par-money, with the evils of our pres- 
 ent depraved and depreciated currency." 
 
 Two years after, there appeared anotlier cliapter of pecuniary his- 
 tory, written in a more hopelul strain. A short extract will com- 
 plete the reader's knowledge of the subject : 
 
 " Since the close of the year of ruin (1837), wc have pursued the even tenor 
 of our way with such fortune as was vouchsafed us ; and, if never elated with 
 any signal evidence of popular favor, we have not since been doomed to gazo 
 fixedly for months into the yawning abyss of Ruin, and feel a moral certainty 
 that, however averted for a time, that must be our goal at la.^t. On the con- 
 trary, our affairs have slowly but steadily improved for some time past, and 
 we now hope that a few months more will place us beyond the reach of pecu- 
 niary embarrassments, and enable us to add new attractions to our journal. 
 
 " And this word ' attraction' brings us to the confession that the success of 
 our enterprise, if success there has been, has not been at all of a pecuniary 
 cast thus far. Probably we lack the essential elements of that very desirable 
 kind of success. There have been errors, mismanagement and losses in the 
 conduct of our business. "We mean that we lack, or do not take kindly to, the 
 arts which contribute to a newspaper sensation. When our journal first ap- 
 peared, a hundred copies marked the extent to which the public curiosity 
 claimed its perusal. Others establish new papers, (the New World and Brother 
 Jonathan Mr. Greeley might have instanced,) even without literary reputa- 
 tion, as we were, and five or ten thousand copies are taken at once — just to 
 see what the new thing is. And thence they career onward on the crest of a 
 towering wave. 
 
 " Since the New Yorker was first issued, sevon copartners in its publication 
 have successively withdrawn from the concern, generally, we regret to say, 
 without having improved their fortunes by the connection, and most of them 
 with the conviction that the work, however valuable, was not calculated to 
 prove lucrative to its proprietors. 'You don't humbug enough,' has been 
 the complaint of more than one of our retiring associates ; ' you ought to 
 
170 EDITOR OF THE NEW YORKER. 
 
 make more noise, and vaunt your own merits. The world wi»l never believe 
 you print a good paper unless you tell them so.' Our course has not been 
 changed by these representations. We have endeavored in all things to 
 maintain our self-respect and deserve the good opinion of others ; if we have not 
 succeeded in the latter particular, the failure is much to be regretted, but hardly 
 to be amended by pursuing the vaporous course indicated. If our journal be a 
 good one, those who read it will be very apt to discover the fact ; if it be not, 
 our assertion of its excellence, however po.sitive and frequent, would scarcely 
 outweigh the weekly evidence still more abundantly and convincingly fur- 
 nished. We are aware that this view of the case is controverted by practical 
 results in some cases ; but we are content with the old course, and have never 
 envied the success which Merit or Pretense may attain by acting as its owd 
 trumpeter." 
 
 The New Yorker never, during the seven years of its existence 
 became profitable ; and its editor, during the greater part of the 
 time, derived even his means of subsistence either from the business 
 of job printing or from other sources, wliich will be alluded to in a 
 moment. The causes of the New Yorker's signal failure as a busi- 
 ness seem to hav§ been these : 
 
 1. It was a very good paper, suited only to the more intelligent 
 class of the community, which, in all times and countries, is a small 
 class. " We have a pride," said the editor once, and truly, " in be- 
 lieving that we might, at any time, render our journal more attrac- 
 tive to the million by rendering it less deserving ; and that by merely 
 considering what would be sought after and read with avidity, with- 
 out regard to its moral or its merit, we might easily become popu- 
 lar at the mere expense of our own self-approval." 
 
 2. It seldom praised, never pufied, itself. The editor, however, 
 seems to have thought, that he might have done both with pro- 
 priety. Or was he speaking in pure irony, when he gave the Mirror 
 this ' first-rate notice.' " There is one excellent quality," said he, 
 "which has always been a characteristic of the Mirror — the virtue 
 of self-appreciation. We call it a virtue, and it is not merely one 
 in itself, but the parent of many others. As regards our vocation, 
 it is alike necessary and just. The world should be made to under- 
 stand, that the aggregate of talent, acquirement, tact, industry, and 
 general intelligence which is required to sustain creditably the char- 
 acter of a public journal, might, if judicioasly parceled out, form 
 uhe stamina of, at least, one professor of languages, two brazen lee- 
 
CAUSES OF THE NEW TORKEr's ILL-SUCCESS. 171 
 
 hirers on scietico, ethics, or phrenology, and three average congress 
 ional or c.tlior demagogues. Why, then, should starvation wave 
 his skeleton scepter in terrorem over such a congregation of avail- 
 able excellences?" 
 
 3. The leading spirit of the New Yorker had a singular, a c©nsti- 
 tutional, an incurable inability to conduct business, Ilis cliaracter 
 is the exact opposite of that 'Iiard man' in tlie gospel, who reaped 
 where he had not sown. He was too amiable, too confiding, too 
 absent, and too ' easy,' for a business man. If a boy stole his let- 
 ters from the post-office, he would admonish him, and either let him 
 go or try him again. If a writer in extremity oftered to do certain 
 paragraphs for three dollars a week, he would say, " No, that 's too 
 little ; I '11 give you five, till you can get something better." On 
 one occasion, he went to the post-office himself, and receiving a 
 large number of letters, put them, it is said, into the pockets of 
 Lis overcoat. On reaching the office, he hung the overcoat on its 
 accustomed peg, and was soon lost in the composition of an article. 
 It was the last of the chilly days of spring, and he thought no more 
 either of his overcoat or its pockets, till the autumn. Letters kept 
 coming in complaining of the non-receipt of papers which had been 
 ordered and paid for; and the office was sorely perplexed. On the 
 first cool day in October, when the editor was shaking a summer's 
 dirt from his overcoat, the missing letters were found, and the mys- 
 tery was explained. Another story gives us a peep into the office 
 of the New Yorker, A gentleman called, one day, and asked to 
 see the editor. " I am the editor," said a little coxcomb who was 
 temporarily in charge of the paper, "You are not the person I 
 want to see," said the gentleman, "01i!"said the puppy, "you 
 wish to see the Printer. He's not in town," The men in the com- 
 posing-room chanced to overhear this colloquy, and thereafter, our 
 liero was called by the nickname of 'The Printer,' and by that 
 alone, whether he was present or absent. It was " Printer, how 
 will you have this set?" or "Printer, we're waiting for copy," AU 
 this was very pleasant and amiable ; but, businesses which pay are 
 never carried on in that style. It is a pity, but a fact, that busi- 
 nesses which pay, are generally conducted in a manner which is 
 exceedingly disagreeable to those who assist in them. 
 
 4. The Year of Ruin, 
 
172 EDITOR OF THE NEW YCRKER. 
 
 5. The ' cauli principle,' the only safe one, had not be^yn yet ap- 
 plied to the newspaper business. The New Yorker lost, on an aver- 
 age, 1,200 dollars a year by the removal of subscribers to parts 
 unknown, who left without paying for their paper, or notifying the 
 office of tlieir departure. 
 
 Of the unnumbered pangs that mortals know, pecuniary anxiety 
 is to a sensitive and honest young heart the bitterest. To live up- 
 on the edge of a gulf that yawns hideously and always at our feet, 
 to feel the ground giving way under the house that holds our hap- 
 piness, to walk in the pathway of avalanches, to dwell under a 
 volcano rumbling prophetically of a coming eruption, is not pleas- 
 ant. But welcome yawning abyss, welcome earthquake, avalanche, 
 volcano ! They can crush, and burn, and swallow a man, but not 
 degrade him. The terrors they inspire are not to be compared 
 with the deadly and withering Fear that crouches sullenly in the 
 soul of that honest man who owes much money to nuxny people, 
 and cannot think how or when he can pay it. That alone has 
 power to take from life all its charm, and from duty all its interest. 
 For other sorrows there is a balm. That is an evil unmingled, 
 while it lasts ; and the light which it throws upon the history of 
 mankind and the secret of man's struggle with fate, is purchased 
 at a price fully commensurate with the value of that light. 
 
 The editor of the New Yorker suffered all that a man could suf- 
 fer from this dread cause. In private letters he alludes, but only 
 alludes, to his anguish at this period. "Through most of the time," 
 he wrote years afterward, " I was very poor, and for four years re- 
 ally bankrui)t ; though always paying my notes and keeping my 
 word, but living as poorly as possible." And again : " My embar- 
 rassments were sometimes dreadful ; not that I feared destitution, 
 but the fear of involving ray friends in my misfortunes was very 
 bitter." He came one afternoon into the house of a friend, and 
 handing her a copy of his paper, said : " There, Mrs. S., that is the 
 last number of the New Yorker you will ever see. I can secure 
 my friends against loss if I stop now, and I '11 not risk their money 
 by holding on any longer.'^ He went over that evening to Mr. 
 Gregory, to make known to him his determination ; but that con- 
 stant and invincible friend would not listen to it. He insisted on 
 his continuing the struggle, and offered his assistance with such 
 
PARK BENJAMIN. HENRY J. RAYMONi). 173 
 
 frank and earnest cordiality, that our hero's scruples were at 
 length removed, and he came home elate, and resolved to battle 
 another year with delinquent subscribers and a dejjreciated currency. 
 
 During the early years of the New Yorker, Mr. Greeley had lit- 
 tle regular assistance in editing the paper. In 18G!), Mr. Park Ben- 
 jamin contributed much to tlie interest of its columns by his lively 
 and humorous critiques; but his connection with tlie paper was not 
 of long duration. It was long enough, however, to nuike him ac- 
 quainted witli tlie character of his associate. On retiring, in Octo- 
 ber, 1839, lie wrote: "Grateful to my feelings has been my inter- 
 course with the readers of the New Yorker and with its principal 
 editor and proprietor. By the former I iiope- my humble efforts 
 will not be uuremembered ; by the latter I am happy to believe 
 that the sincere friendship which I entertain for him is reciproca- 
 ted. I still insist upon my editorial right so far as to say in oppo- 
 sition to any veto which my c(;adjutor may interpose, that I can- 
 not leave the association which has been so agreeable to me with- 
 out paying to sterling worth, unbending integrity, high moral prin- 
 ciple and ready kindness, their just due. These qualities exist in 
 the character of t!ie man with whom now I part; and by all, to 
 whom such qualities ap])ear admirable, must such a character be 
 esteemed. His talents, his industry, require no commendation from 
 me; the readers of this journal know them too well; the public is 
 sufficiently aware of the manner in which they have been exerted. 
 "What I have said has flowed from my heart, tributary rather to its 
 own emotions tiian to the subject which has called them forth; 
 his plain good name is. his best eulogy." 
 
 A few months later, Mr. Henry J. Raymond, a recent graduate 
 of Burlington College, Vermont, came to the city to seek liis for- 
 tune. He had written some creditable sketches for the New 
 Yorker, over the signature of "Fantome," and on reaching the 
 city called upon Horace Greeley. The result was that he entered 
 the office as an assistant editor "till he could get so.iething bet- 
 ter," and it may encourage some young, hard-working, un. -^cognized, 
 ill-paid journalist, to know that the editor of the New York Daily 
 Times began liis editorial career upon a salary of eight dollars a 
 week. Tbesaid nnrecognized, however, should further be informed, 
 that Mr. Raymond is the hardest and swiftest wrrker coimected 
 with the New York Press. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE JEFFERSONIAN. 
 
 Objects of Mie Jeffersoniaii — Its character — A novel Glorious-Victory paragr iph— ^Tho 
 Graves and Cilley duel — The Editor overworked. 
 
 The slender income derived from the New Yorker obliged its 
 editor to engage in other lal)ors. He wrote, as occasion offered, for 
 various periodietils. The Daily "Whig he supplied with its leading 
 article for several months, and in 1838 undertook the entire edito- 
 rial charge of the Jeffersonian, a weekly pajjer of the 'cami)aign' 
 description, started at Albany on the tliird of !Maroh, and continu- 
 ing in existence for one year. 
 
 With the conception and the establishment of the Jeffersonian, 
 Horace Greeley had nothing to do. It was jiublished under the 
 auspices and by the direction of the Whig Central Committee of 
 the State of New York, and the fund for its establishment was con- 
 tributed by the leading politicians of the State in sums of ten dol- 
 lars. " I never sought the post of its editor," wrote Mr. Greeley in 
 1848, "but was sought for it by leading Avhigs whom I had never 
 before personally known." It was all'orded at fifty cents a year, 
 attained rapidly a circulation of fifteen thousand ; the editor, who 
 spent three days of each week in Albany, receiving for his year's 
 services a thousand dollars. . The ostensible object of the paper was 
 — to quote the language of its projectors — "to furnish to every 
 person within the State of New York a complete summary of politi- 
 cal intelligence, at a rate which shall place it absolutely within the 
 reach of every luan who will read it." But, according to the sub- 
 sequent explanation of the Tribune, "it was established on the im- 
 pulse of th' whig tornado of 1837, to secure a like result in 1838, 
 BO as to give the Whig party a Governor, Lieutenant Governor 
 Senate, Assembly, U. S. Senator, Congressmen, and all the vast ex- 
 ecutive patronage of the State, then amounting to millions of dol- 
 ors a year/ 
 
GLORIOUS VICTORY. 175 
 
 riio Jeflersonian was a good paper. It was piiLlished in a neat 
 to form of eight pages. Its editorials, generally few and brief, 
 were written to convince, not to inflame, to enlighten, not to blind. 
 It published a great many of the best speeches of the day, sonio 
 for, some against, its own principles. Each number wntained a full 
 and well-compiled digest of political intelligence, and one page, or 
 •nore, of general intelligence. It was not, in the sligiitest degree, 
 like wliat is generally nnderstood by a ' cami)aign paper.' Capital 
 letters and i)o'nts of admiration were as little used as in the sedate 
 and courteous colunnis of the New Yorker; and tiiere is scarcely 
 anything to be found of the ' Glorious-Victory' sort except this: 
 
 " Glorious Victory ! ' We have met tho enemy, and they are ours !' Our 
 whole ticket, with the exception of town clerk, one constable, three fonce-viow- 
 ens, a pound-master and two liog-rceves elected! There never was such a 
 dumph !" 
 
 Stop, my friend. Have you elected the best men to the several offices to be 
 filled? Have you chosen men who have hitherto evinced not only capacity 
 but integrity ? — men whom you would trust iinplicity in every relation and 
 business of life? Above all, have you selected tho very best person in the 
 township for tho important office of Justice of the Peace ? If yea, wo rejoice 
 with you. If the men whose election will best subserve tho cause of virtue 
 and public order have been chosen, even your opponents will have little rea- 
 son for regret. If it be otherwise, you have achieved but an empty and du- 
 bious triumph. 
 
 It would be gratifying to know what the Whig Central Commit- 
 tee thought of such unexampled 'campaign ' langnage. In a word, 
 the JefFersonian was a better fifty cents' worth of thought and fact 
 than had previously, or lias since, been afforded, in the form of a 
 weekly paper. 
 
 The columns of the JefFersonian afford little material for the pur- 
 poses of this volume. There are scarcely any of those character- 
 istic touches, those autobiographical allusions, that contribute so 
 nmch to the interest of other pai)ers with wliich our hero lias been 
 connected. Tiiis is one, however: 
 
 (Whosoever may have picked up the wallet of the editor of this 
 paper — lost somewhere near State street, about the 20th ult., shall 
 receive half the contents, all round, by returning tho balance to this 
 oflSce.") 
 
no TlIK JEl'KlCllSONIAN. 
 
 1 will iiu!iilf;o tlio roiiilor with ouo nrliclo ontiro fivMn tlio JcfTer- 
 soniaii ; 1, boi'iiiiso it is iiilorostin^^ ; 2, bi'i-iuiso it will serve to show 
 tho spirit, juhI the iimmier ot'tho editor in reeordiiif^ luul coinincnt- 
 \ng npoii the topics ot' the (l;iy. He liiis since written more em- 
 l)lmtic, hnt not more elVectivo articles, on similar suhjects : 
 
 TiiK ti:a(;ki>y \'v wasuincton. 
 
 Tub whole country is slunkt'il, mid its moral sonsihililics outrajiod, by tho 
 horrible trngody lately jioi iiotiatod at, Washiii'^tdn, of wliicli a iiioiiibor of 
 Congress was the vii'tim. It was, iiulooil, an awful, yvl wo will hope not a 
 profitless catiislroplio ; and wo blush for liuniau luiluru whi'u wo ol)suivo tho 
 niost systoiniitii! elVorls used to jiorviMt to luiiiuisos of puity ndvantaj;o and 
 personal niali^^uity, a result whioh should ho saiTod to the iutoicsts of huuinn- 
 ity and morality — to the stern inouU-aliou and onfoiviMUcul of a rovoreuco for 
 the laws of tho land and the mandates of Ood. 
 
 Nearly a month siui'o, a charge of corruption, or an oll'or to soil ollicial in- 
 fluence and exertion for a pecuniary consideration, against some unnamed 
 member of Congress, was transmitted to tho Now York Coiuior and Enquirer 
 by its correspondent, ' the Spy in Washington,' Its appearance in that journal 
 called forth a resolution from Mr. Wise, that tho charge bo investigated by 
 tho IIouso. On this nii irregular and excited debate arose, which consumed a 
 day or two, and which was signalized by severe attacks on tho Public Press 
 of this country, and on tho loitor-writers from Washington. In particular, 
 the Courier and Enquirer, in which this chiirgo appeared, its chief Editor, and 
 its correspondent the Spy, were stigmatized ; and Mr. Cilloy, a member from 
 Maine, was among those who gave currency to the charges. Col. Webb, tho 
 Editor, on tho appearance of these charges, instantly proceeded to Washington, 
 and there addressed a note to Mr. Cilloy on tho subject. That note, it ap- 
 pears, was courteous and dignified in its hinguago, merely inquiring of Mr. 
 C. if his remarks, published in tho Globe, were intended to convoy any per- 
 sonal disrespect to the writer, and containing no menaco of any kind. It was 
 handed to Mr. Cillcy by Mr. Graves, a member from Kentucky, but declined 
 by Mr. C, on tho ground, as was undei'stood, that ho did not chooso to be 
 drawn into controversy with Editors of public journals in regard to his remarks 
 in the IIouso. This was correct and honorable ground. Tho Constitution 
 expressly provides that members of Congress shall not bo responsible olso- 
 whoro for words spoken in debate, and tho provision is a moit noblo and 
 necessary one. 
 
 But Mr. Graves considered tho reply as ])lacing him in an equivocal posi- 
 tion. If a note transmitted through his hands had been declined, as was 
 liable to bo under-^tood, because the writer was not worthy tho treatment of 
 a Kcntleman, the dishonor was reQected on himself as the bearer of a disirrace- 
 
THE GRAVES AND CII.I.EY J)UKL. 177 
 
 ful mossage. Mr. Oravoa, thoroforo, wroto a nolo to Mr. C, a.sking h.in if 
 ho were correct, in IiIh undur.''tanding thiit llio letter in c|uo.'tion was doclinod 
 bocauHO Mr. C. could not consent to hold liimHclf ncoonDtnlilo to pulilic jour- 
 nalist!) for words »poi<cn in debate, and not on fjrounils of por.><onal oy^ection 
 to Col. Webb iiH a genllomnn. To this note Mr. Cilloy replied, on the ad- 
 visement of his friends, that ho declined the note of Col. Webb, bcciiuso ho 
 "chose to bo driiwn into no controversy with him," and added that ho 
 " neither affii incd ncr denied anything in regard to his character." This waa 
 considered by Mr. Graves as involving him fully in the dilemma which ho 
 was seeking to avoid, and amounting to an impeachment of his veracity, and 
 ho now addre.s.-ed another note to inquire, " whether you dcclincdlo receive hia 
 (Col. Webb'.«) communication on the ground of any personal objection to him 
 as a gentleman of honor?" To this query Mr. Cilloy declined to give an 
 answer, denying the right of Mr. 0. to propo.se it. Tho next letter in courso 
 was a challenge from Mr. Graves by tho hand of Mr. Wise, promptly respond- 
 ed to by Mr. Cilloy through Qen. Jones of Wisconsin. 
 
 Tho weapons selected by Mr. Cilloy were rifles ; tho distance eighty yards. 
 (It was said tlnit Mr. Cilley was practicing with tho selected weapon tho 
 morning of accepting tho challenge, and that he lodged eleven bulls in suo- 
 cossion in a s[>ace of four inches square.) Mr. Graves experienced some difll- 
 culty in procuring a rifle, and asked time, which was granted; and Gen. 
 Jones, Mr. Cilley's Hccond, tendered him tho use of his own rifle ; but, mean- 
 time, Mr. Graves had procured one. 
 
 The challenge was delivered at 12 o'clock on Friday ; tho hour selected by 
 Mr. Cilloy was 12 of the following day. His unexpected choice of riflo.'*, how- 
 ever, and Mr. Graves' inability to procure one, delayed the meeting till 2 
 o'clock. 
 
 Tho first fire was ineffectual. Mr. AVi.so, as second of tho challenging party, 
 now called all pirties together, to effect a reconciliation. Mr. C. declining to 
 negotiate while under challenge, it was suspended to give room for ex|)lana- 
 tion. Mr. Wi.se remarked — " Mr. Jones, these gentlemen have eoino hero 
 without animo.-ity towards each other ; they arc fighting merely upon a point 
 of honor ; cannot Mr. Cilley assign some reason for not receiving at Mr. 
 Graves' hands Colonel Webb's communication, or make some disclaimer which 
 will relieve Mr, Oiaves from his po,'<ition V The reply was — " I am author- 
 ized by my frien I, Mr. Cilley, to say that in declining to receive tho note from 
 Mr. Graves, purporting to be from Colonel Webb, ho meant no disrcpoct to 
 Mr. Graves, because he entertained for him then, as ho now does, tho highest 
 respect an<l the most kind feelings ; but that he declined to receive the note 
 because h« cho.«e not to bo drawn into any controversy with Colonel Webb.' 
 This is Mr. Jone,' version ; Mr. Wise thinks he said, " My friend refuses to 
 disclaim disrespect to Colonel Webb, beonu.^o he does not choose to bo drawn 
 Into an expression of opinion as to him," After consultation, Mr AVi.se re- 
 
 8* 
 
178 THE JEFFERSONIAN. 
 
 turned to Mr. Jones and said, " Mr. Jones, this answer leaves Mr. Graves pre 
 cisely in the position in which he stood when the challenge wus sent." 
 
 Another exchange of shots was now had to no purpose, and another attempt 
 at reconciliation was likewise unsuccessful. The seconds appear to have been 
 mutually and anxiously desirous that the affair should here terminate, but no 
 arrangement could be effected. Mr. Graves insisted that his antagouist should 
 place his refusal to receive the message of which he was the bearer on some 
 grounds which did not imply such an opinion of the writer as must reflect dis- 
 grace on the bearer. He endeavored to have the refusal placed on the ground 
 that Mr. C. " did not hold himself accountable to Colonel Webb for words 
 spoken in debate." This was declined by Mr. Cilley, and the duel proceeded. 
 
 The official statement, drawn up by the two seconds, would seem to import 
 that but three shots were exchanged ; but other accounts state positively that 
 Mr. Cilley fell at the fourth fire. He was shot through the body, and died in 
 two minutes. On seeing that he had fallen, badly wounded, Mr. Graves ex- 
 pressed a wish to see him, and was answered by Mr. Jones — " My friend is 
 dead, sir !" 
 
 Colonel Webb first heard of the difficulty which had arisen on Friday even- 
 ing, but was given to understand that the meeting would not take place for 
 several days. On the following morning, however, he had reason to suspect 
 the truth. He immediately armed himself, and with two friends proceeded to 
 Mr. Cilley's lodgings, intending to force the latter to meet him before he did 
 Mr. Graves. He did not find him, however, and immediately proceeded to the 
 old dueling ground at Bladeusburgh, and thence to several other places, to 
 interpose himself as the rightful antagonist of Mr. Cilley. Had he found the 
 parties, a more dreadful tragedy still would doubtless have ensued. But the 
 place of meeting had been changed, and the arrangements so secretly made, 
 that though Mr. Clay and many others were on the alert to prevent it, the 
 duel was not interrupted. 
 
 "We believe we have here stated every material fact in relation to this 
 melancholy business. It is suggested, however, that Mr. Cilley was less dis- 
 posed to concede anything from the first in consideration of his own course 
 when a difiiculty recently arose between two of his colleagues, Messrs. Jarvis 
 and Smith, which elicited a challenge from the former, promptly and nobly 
 declined by the latter. This refusal, it is said, was loudly and vehemently 
 stigmatized as cowardly by Mr. Cilley. This circumstance does not come to 
 ns well authenticated, but it is spoken of as notorious at AVashington. 
 
 " But enough of detail and circumstance. The reader who has not seen the 
 official statement will find its substance in the foregoing. He can lay the 
 blame where he chooses. We blame only the accursed spirit of False Honor 
 which required this bloody sacrifice — the horrid custom of Dueling which ex- 
 acts and palliates this atrocity. It appears evident that Mr. Cilley's course 
 must have been based on the determination that Col. Webb was no* entitled 
 
THE EDITOR OVERWORKED. 179 
 
 'lO be regarded as a gentleman ; and if so, there was hardly an esc.ipo from 
 a bloody conclusion after Mr. Graves had once consented, however uncon- 
 Bciously, to bear the note of Col. Webb. Each of the parties, doubtless, acted 
 as he considered due to his own character; each was right in the view of the 
 duelist's code of honor, but fearfully wrong in the eye of reason, of morality, 
 of humanitj', and the imperative laws of man and of God. Of the principals, 
 one sleeps cold and stiff beneath the icy pall of winter and the clods of the 
 valley ; the other — far more to bo pitied — lives to execrate through years of 
 anguish and remorse the hour when he was impelled to imbrue his hands in 
 the blood of a fellow-being. 
 
 Mr. Graves we know personally, and a milder and more amiable gentleman 
 is rarely to be met with. lie has for the last two years been a Representative 
 from the Louisville District, Kentucky, and is universally esteemed and be- 
 loved. Mr. Cilley was a young man of one of the best families in New Hamp- 
 shire; his grandfather was a Colonel and afterwards a General of the Revo- 
 lution. His brother was a Captain in the last AVar with Great Britain, and 
 leader of the desperate bayonet charge at Bridgewater. Mr. Cilley himself, 
 though quite a young man, has been for two years Speaker of the House of 
 Representatives of Maine, and was last year elected to Congress from the 
 Lincoln District, which is decidedly opposed to him in politics, and which 
 recently gave 1,200 majority for the other side. Young as he was, he had ac- 
 quired a wide popularity and influence in his own State, and was laying the 
 foundations of a brilliant career in the National Councils. And this man, with 
 BO many ties to bind him to life, with the sky of his future bright with hope, 
 without an enemy on earth, and with a wife and three children of tender age 
 whom his death must drive to the verge of madness — has perished miserably 
 in a combat forbidden by God, growing out of a difference so pitiful in itself, 
 so direful in its consequences. 
 
 Could we add anything to render the moral more terribly impressive 7 
 
 The year of the Jeffer.sonum was a most hiboriou.s and harassing 
 one. No one but a Greeley wouhl or could have endured such con- 
 tinuous and distracting toils, lie had two papers to provide for; 
 papers diverse in character, papers published a hundred and fifty 
 r.:iles apart, papers to which expectant thousands looked for their 
 weekly supply of mental pabulum. As soon as the agony of getting 
 the New Yorker to press was over, and copy for the outside of the 
 next number given out, away rushed the editor to the Albany boat ; 
 and after a night of battle with the bed-bugs of the cabin, or the 
 politicians of the hurricane-deck, he hurried off to new duties at the 
 office of the Jeifersonian. The Albany boat of 1838 was a very 
 different style of conveyance from the Albany boat of the present 
 
180 THE LOG CABIN. 
 
 year of our I,ord. It was, in fact, not much more than six times as 
 elegant and corafortahle as the steamers that, at this hour, ply in 
 the seas and channels of Europe. The sufferings of our hero may 
 be imagined. 
 
 But, not his labors. They can be understood only by those who 
 know, by blessed experience, what it is to get up, or try to get up, 
 a good, correct, timely, and entertaining weekly paper. Tlie sub- 
 ject of editorial labor, however, must be reserved for a future page. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE LOG-CABIN. 
 
 "TIPPEOANOE and TYLER TOO." 
 
 Wire-pulling— The delirium of 1840— The Los-Cabin— Unprecedented hit— A glance at 
 its pages— Log-Cabin jokes — Log-Ciibin songs— Horace Greeley and the cake-baa- 
 ket — Pecuniary difficulties continue- The Tribune announced. 
 
 "Wire-pulling is a sneaking, bad, demoralizing business, and the 
 people hate it. The campaign of 18-iO, which resulted in the elec- 
 tion of General Harrison to the presidency, was, at bottoin, the 
 revolt of tlie people of the United States against the wire-pulling 
 principle, supposed to be incarnate in the person of Martin Van 
 Buren. Other elements entered into the delirium of those mad 
 montlis. The country was only recovering, and that slowly, from 
 the disasters of 1836 and 1837, and the times were still 'hard.' 
 But the fire and fury of the struggle arose from the fact, tliat Gen- 
 eral Harrison, a man who had done something, was pitted against 
 Martin Van Buren, a man who had pulled wires. The hero of Tip- 
 pecanoe and the farmer of Nortii Bend, against the wily diplomatist 
 who partook of sustenance by the aid of gold spoons. The Log- 
 Cabin against the White House. 
 
 Great have been the triumphs of wire-pulling in this and other 
 countries; and yet it is an unsafe thing to engage in. As bluff 
 King Hal melted away, with one fiery glance, all the greatness of 
 
UNPRECEDENTKD HIT. 181 
 
 "Wolsey ; as tho elephant, with a tap of his trunk, knocks the hreath 
 out of the little tyrant whom he had been long accustomed itni)licitly 
 to obey, — so do the People, in some quite unexpected moment, blow 
 away, with one breath, the elaborate and deep-laid schemes of the 
 republican wire-puller; and him/ They have done it, O wire-pul- 
 ler! and will do it again. 
 
 "VVho can have forgotten that campaign of 1840? The 'mass 
 meetings,' the log-cabin raisings, the 'hard cider' drinking, tlie song 
 singing, the Tippecanoe clubs, the caricatures, the epigrams, tlie 
 jokes, tlie universal excitement! General Harrison was suriff into 
 the presidential cliair. Van Bnren was laughed out of it. Every 
 town had its log-cabin, its club, and its chorus. Tippecanoe song- 
 books were sold by the hundred thousand. Thei'e were Tippecanoe 
 medals, Tippecanoe badges, Tippecanoe flags, Tippecanoe handker- 
 chiefs, Tij)pecanoe almanacs, and Tippecanoe shaving-soap. All 
 other interests were swallowed up in the one interest of the elec- 
 tion. All noises were drowned in the cry of Tippecanoe and Tylor 
 too. 
 
 The man who contributed most to keep alive and increase tho 
 popular enthusiasm, the man who did most to feed that enthusiasm 
 with the substantial fuel of fact and argument, was, beyond all ques- 
 tion, Horace Greele}'. 
 
 On the second of May, the first number of the Log-Cabin ap- 
 peared, by ' H. Greeley & Co.,' a weekly paper, to be published 
 simultaneously at New York and Albany, at fifty cents for the cam- 
 paign of six months. It was a small paper, about half the size of 
 the present Tribune ; but it was conducted with wonderful spirit, 
 and made an unprecedented hit. Of the first number, an edition of 
 twenty thousand was printed, which Mr. Greeley's friends thought a far 
 greater number than would be sold ; but the edition vanished from the 
 counter in a day. Eight thousand more were struck off; they were 
 sold in a morning. Four thousand more were printed, and still the 
 demand seemed unabated. A further supply of six thousand was 
 printed, and the types were then distributed. In a few days, how- 
 ever, the demand became so urgent, that the number was re-set, and 
 an edition often thousand struck off. Altogether, forty-eight thou- 
 sand of the first number were sold. Subscribers came pouring in 
 at the rate of seven hundred a day. The list lenopt.hened in a few 
 
183 TUK LOO OAUIN. 
 
 ■\vooks trt tsixty thousand luiinos, and koi)t incroasiug till the weekly 
 issue was between eighty and ninety thousand. 'II. Greeley and 
 Co.' wore really overwhohned with their success. They had made 
 no preparations for such an enormous increase of business, and they 
 were troubled to hire clerks and folders fast enough to get their 
 etui)endous edition into the mails. 
 
 The Log Cabin is not dull reading, even now, after the lapse of 
 fifteen years ; and though the men and the questions of that day 
 are, most of them, dead. But then^ it was devoured with an eager- 
 ness, which even those who remember it can hardly realize. Let 
 us glance hastily over its pages. 
 
 The editor explained the 'objects and scope' of the little paper, 
 thus : — 
 
 "The Log Cabin will be a zealous and unwavering advocate of 
 the rights, interests and prosperity of our whole country, but es- 
 pecially those of the hardy subduers and cultivators of her soil. It 
 will be the advocate of the cause of the Log Cabin against that of 
 the Custom Mouse and Presidential ralace. It will be an advocate 
 of the interests of unassuming industry against the schemes and 
 devices of functionaries ' drest in a little brief authority,' whose 
 salaries are trebled in value whenever Labor is forced to beg for em- 
 ployment at three or four shillings a day. It will be the advocate of 
 a sound, uniform, adequate Currency for our whole country, against 
 the visionary projects and ruinous expei'iments of the otticial Dous- 
 terswivels of the day, Avho commeneed by promising Prosperity, 
 Abundance, and Plenty of Gold as the sure result of their policy; 
 and lo ! we have its issues in disorganization, bankruptcy, low 
 wages and treasury rags. In fine, it will be the advocate of Free- 
 dom, Improvement, and of National Reform, by the election of 
 Harrison and T)'ler, the restoration of purity to the government, of 
 efficiency to the public will, and of Better Times to tho People. 
 Such are the objects and scope of the Log Cabin." 
 
 The contents of the Log Cabin were of various kinds. The first 
 page was devoted to Literature of an exclusively Tippecanoe charac- 
 ter, such as " Sketch of Gen. Harrison," " Anecdote of Gen. Har 
 rison," "General Harrison's Creed," "Slanders on Gen. Harrison re 
 futed," " Meeting of the Old Soldiers," &e. The fii-st number had 
 twenty -eight articles and paragraphs of this description. The sec- 
 
A GLANCE AT ITS PAGES. 183 
 
 oncl page contained otlitorials and correspondence. The lliird was 
 where the "Splendid Victories," and "Unprecedented Trinniplis," 
 were recorded. The fourth page contained a Tippecanoe song vvitli 
 music, and a few articles of a miscellaneous character. Dr. Clian- 
 ning's lectuio upon the Elevation of the Laboring Classes ran 
 through several of the early numhers. Most of the numbers con- 
 tain an engraving or two, jilans of (leneml Iliirrisoii's buttles, por- 
 traits of the candidates, or a caricature. One of tlie curiciituren 
 represented Van Bureu caught in a tnip, iiiid over the picture wus 
 the following explanation: — " The New Era has i)repared and 
 pictured a Log Cabin Trap, rei)resentiiig a Log Cabin — set as a 
 figure-4-trap, and baited witli a ban-el of hard cider. }\y the follow- 
 ing it will be seen that the trap has been sprung, and a sly nibbler 
 from Kinderhook is looking out tlirough the gratings. Old Hickory 
 is intent on l)rying him out; but it is manifestly no go." The 
 editorials of the Log Cabin were mostly of a sci'ious and argument- 
 ative cast, upon the Tariff, the Ciu-rency, nnd the Hard Times. 
 They were able and timely. Tiio sj>irit of the (iampaign, however, 
 is contained in the other departments of the paper, from wliich a 
 few brief extracts may amuse the reader for a moment, as well as 
 illustrate the feeling of the time. 
 
 The Log Cabins that were .built .all over tlie country, were 
 'raised 'and inaugurated with a great show of rejoicing. In one 
 number of the paper, there are accounts of as many as six of these 
 hilarious ceremonials, with their specchifyings and hard-cider drink- 
 ings. The liumorous paragraph amiexed appears in an early num- 
 ber, under the title of "Thrilling Log Cabin incident :" — 
 
 " The whigs of Erie, Pa., raised a Log Cabin last week from whicli the ban- 
 ner of Harrison and Reform was displayed. AVhilo engaged in the dedica- 
 tion of their Cabin, the whigs received information which led them to appre- 
 hend a hostile demonstration from Harbor Crook, a portion of tho borough 
 whoso citizens had ever been strong Jackson and Van Buren men. Soon after- 
 wards a party )f horsemen, about forty,in number, dressed in Indian costume, 
 armed with tcmahawks and sculping knive."?, approached tho Cabin! Tho 
 whigs made prompt preparations to defend their banner. The scene became in- 
 tensely exciting. Tho assailants rode up to the Cabin, dismounted, and surren- 
 dered themselves upas voluntary prisoners of war. On inquiry, they proved tc 
 be stanch Jackson men from Ha-bor Creek, who had taken that nrode of array- 
 
184 THE LOG CABIN. 
 
 ing themselves under the Harrison Banner ! The tomahank was thenbur 
 led ; after which the string of the latch was pushed out, and the Ilarbor-Creek^ 
 ers were ushered into the Cabin, where they pledged their support to Harri- 
 son in a bumper of good old hard cider." 
 
 The great joker of that election, as of every other since, was Mr. 
 Prentice, of the Louisville Journal, the wittiest of editors, living or 
 dead. Many of his good tilings appear in the Log Cabin, but most 
 of them allude to men and events that have been forgotten, and the 
 point of the joke is lost. The following are three of the Log Cab- 
 in jokes ; they sparkled in 1840, flat as they may seem now : — 
 
 " The Globe says that ' there are but two parties in the country, the poor 
 man's party and the rich man's party,' and that ' Mr. Van Buren is the friend 
 of the former.' The President is certainly in favor of strengthening the poor 
 man's party, numerically ! He goes for impoverishing the whole country — • 
 except the office-holders." 
 
 " What do the locofocos expect by vilifying the Log Cabin ? Do they not 
 know that a Log Cabin is all the better for being daubed with mud ?" 
 
 " A whig passing through the streets of Boston a few mornings ago, espied 
 a custom-house officer gazing ruefully at a bulletin displaying the latest news 
 
 of the Maine election. ' Ah! Mr. , taking your bitters this morning, 
 
 I see.' The way the loco scratched gravel was a pattern for sub-treasurers." 
 
 One specimen paragraph from the department of political news 
 will suffice to show ilxefreiuy of those who wrote for it. A letter- 
 writer at Utica, describing a ' mass meeting ' in that city, bursts up- 
 on his readers in this style : 
 
 " This has been the proudest, brightest day of my life ! Never — no, never, 
 have I before seen the people in their majesty! Never were the foundations 
 of popular sentiment so broken up ! The scene from early dawn to sunset, 
 has been one of continued^ increasing, bewildering enthusiasm. The hearts of 
 TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND FREEMEN havc been Overflowing with gratitude, and 
 gladness, and joy. It has been a day of jubilee — an era of deliverance 
 FOR Central New York ! The people in waves have poured in from the val- 
 leys and rushed down from the mountains. The city has been vocal with elo- 
 quence, with rausii!, and with acclamations. Demonstrations of strength, and em 
 blcms of victory, and harbingers of prosperity are all around us, cheering and 
 animating, and assuring a people who are finally and effectually aroused. I wiU 
 not now attempt to describe the procession of the people. Suffice it to say that 
 
LOG CABIN BONGS. 185 
 
 thoro was an oeenn of them ! Tho procession was over rn e miles long. * 
 * * Governor Seward and Lieut. Gov. Bradish were unanimously nomina- 
 ted by resolution for re-election. The result was communicated to tho people 
 aspenibled in Mass in Chancery Square, whose response to the nomination was 
 spontaneous, loud, deep and resounding.'' 
 
 The profusion of the presidential mansion was one of the stand- 
 ing topics of tliose who wished to eject its occupant. In one num- 
 ber of the Log-Cabin is a speech, delivered in tlie House of Repre- 
 sentatives by a member of the opposition, in which the bills of the 
 persons who supplied the White House are given at length. Take 
 these specimens : 
 
 34 table knives ground, . . . . . . • $l,37j 
 
 2 new knife blades, 75 
 
 2 cook's knife blades, 2,50 
 
 4,62^ 
 
 2 dozen brooms, $3,75 
 
 1-2 do. hard scrubs, 2,37 
 
 1-2 do. brooms, 1,38 
 
 6,50 
 
 2 tin buckets, $2,00 
 
 Milk strainer and ekimmer 92i 
 
 Chamber bucket, 2,00 
 
 2 dozen tart pans, 2,50 
 
 This seems like putting an extremely fine point upon a political ar 
 gument. "What the orator wished to show, however, was, that sucL 
 articles as the above ought to be paid for out of the presidential 
 salary, not the public treasury. The speech exhibited some columns 
 of these ' house-bills.' It made a great sensation, and was enough 
 to cure any deccni man of a desire to become a servant of the 
 people. 
 
 But, as I have observed, Gen. Harrison was sung into the presi- 
 dential chair. The Log Cabin ])reserves a large number of the politi- 
 cal ditties of the time ; the editor himself contributing two. A very 
 few stanzas will suffice to show tho quality of the Tippecanoe poetry 
 The following is one from the ' "Wolverine's Song' •• 
 
186 THE LOG CABIN. 
 
 We know that Van Buren can ride in h'ls coach, 
 With servants, forbidding the Vulgar's approach — 
 We know that his fortune such things will allow, 
 And we know that our candidate follows the plough ; 
 But what if he does ? Who was bolder to fight 
 In his country's defense on that perilous night, 
 When naught save his valor sufficed to subdue 
 Our foes at the battle of Tippecanoe ? 
 
 Hurrah for Tippecanoe ! 
 He dropped the red Locos at Tippecanoe ! 
 
 From the song of the ' Buckeye Cabin,' these are two stanzas: 
 
 Oh ! where, tell me where, was your Buckeye Cabin made 1 
 Oh ! where, tell me where, was your Buckeye Cabin made 1 
 'Twas made among the merry boys that wield the plough and spade 
 Where the Log Cabins stand in the bonnie Buckeye shade. 
 
 Oh ! what, tell me what, is to be your Cabin's fate 1 
 Oh ! what, tell me what, is to be your Cabin's fate 1 
 We '11 wheel it to the Capitol and pla<ce it there elate, 
 For a token and a sign of the bonnie Buckeye State. 
 
 The ' Turn Out Song' was very popular, and easy to sing; 
 
 From the White House, now Matty, turn out, turn out. 
 From the White House, now Matty, turn out ! 
 
 Since there you have been 
 
 No peace we have seen. 
 So Matty, now please to turn out, turn out, 
 So Matty, now please to turn out ! 
 ******* 
 Make way for old Tip ! turn out, turn out ! 
 Make way for old Tip, turn out ! 
 
 'Tis the people's decree. 
 
 Their choice he shall be, 
 So, Martin Van Buren, turn out, turn out, 
 So, Martin Van Buren, turn out ! 
 
 But of all the songs ever sung, the most absurd and the most tell- 
 ing, was that whicli began thus ; 
 
LOG CABIN S05GS. 187 
 
 What has e:iu.*oil thia great cominotion-motion-motion 
 Our country through 1 
 It is tho ball a-rolling on 
 For Tippecanoe and Tylor too, 
 For Tippecanoe and Tylor too ; 
 And with them we '11 boat little Van ; 
 Van, Van, Van is a used-up man, 
 And with them wo '11 beat little Van. 
 
 This song liad two advaii ages. Tho tune — lialf cliant, lialf 
 jig — was adapted to bring out all the absurdities of the words, and, 
 in particular, tliose of tho last two lines. The second advantage 
 ■was, that stanzas could be multiplied to any extent, on the spot, to 
 suit the exigences of any occasion. For exanijile : 
 
 "The beautiful girls, God bless their souls, soul.«, souls, 
 The country through. 
 Will all, to a man, do all they can 
 For Tippecanoe and Tylor too ; 
 And with thoin," etc., etc. 
 
 During that summer, ladies attended tho mass meetings in thou- 
 sands, and in their honor tho lines just quoted were frequently sung. 
 
 Tliese few extracts from the Log Cabin show the nature of the 
 element in which our editor was called upon to work in tho hot 
 months of 1840. His own interest in the questions at issue was in- 
 tense, and his laboi's were incessant and most arduous. He wrote 
 articles, he made speeches, he sat on committees, he traveled, 
 he gave advice, he suggested plans; while he had two news- 
 papers on his hands, and a load of debt upon his shoulders. His 
 was a willing servitude. From the days of his apprenticeship he 
 had observed the course of 'Democratic' administrations with dis- 
 gust and utter disapproval, and he had borne his full share of the 
 consequences of their had measures. His whole soul was in this 
 contest. He fought fairlj' too. His answer to a correspondent, that 
 'articles assailing the personal character of Mr. Van Buren or any 
 of his supporters cannot be published in tho Cabin,' was in advance 
 of the politics of 1840. 
 
 One scene, if it could be portrayed on tho printed page as visibly 
 as it exists in the m(^mories of those who witnessed it, would show 
 
188 THE LOG CABIN. 
 
 better than declaratory words, how absorbed Mr. Greeley was in 
 politics during this famous 'campaign.' It is a funny story, and 
 literally true. 
 
 Time, — Sunday evening. Scene, — the parlor of a friend's house. 
 Company, — numerous and political, except the ladies, who are 
 gracious and hospitable. Mr. Greeley is expected to tea, but does 
 not come, and the meax is transacted without him. Tea over, he 
 arrives, and plunges headlong into a conversation on the currency. 
 The lady of the house thinks he ' had better take some tea,' but 
 cannot get a hearing on the subject ; is distressed, puts the question 
 at length, and has her invitation hurriedly declined ; brushed aside, 
 in fact, with a wave of the hand. 
 
 " Take a cruller, any way," said she, handing liim a cake-basket 
 containing a dozen or so of those unspeakable, Dutch indigestibles. 
 
 The expounder of the currency, dimly conscious that a large ob- 
 ject was approaching him, puts forth his hands, still vehemently 
 talking, and takes, not a cruller, but the cake-basket, and deposits 
 it in his lap. The company are inwardly convulsed, and some of 
 the weaker members retire to the adjoining apartment, the ex- 
 pounder continuing his harangue, unconscious of their emotions or 
 its cause. Minutes elapse. His hands, in their wandering through 
 the air, come in contact with the topmost cake, which they take 
 and break. He begins to eat ; and eats and talks, talks and eats, 
 till he has finished a cruller. Then he feels for another, and eats 
 that, and goes on, slowly consuming the contents of the basket, till 
 the last crura is gone. The company look on amazed, and the kind 
 lady of the house fears for the consequences. She had heard that 
 cheese is an antidote to indigestion. Taking the empty cake- 
 basket from his lap, she silently puts a plate of cheese in its place, 
 hoping that instinct will guide his hand aright. The experiment 
 succeeds. Gradually, the blocks of white new cheese disappear. 
 She removes the plate. No ill consequences follow. Those who 
 saw this sight are fixed in the belief, that Mr. Greeley Avas not 
 then, nor has since become, aware, that on that evening he par- 
 took of sustenance. 
 
 The reader, perhaps, has concluded that the prodigious sale of 
 the Log Cabin did something to relieve our hero from his pecuniary 
 embarrassments. Such was aot the fact He paid some debts 
 
THE CAKE-BASKET. lb 
 
 wt he incurred others, and was not, for any week, free from 
 anxiety. The price of the paper was h)w, an.l its unlooked-for sale 
 involved the proprietors in expenses Avhich might have heen avoid- 
 ed, or much lessened, if they had been prepared for it. The mail- 
 ing of single numbers cost a hundred dollars. The last number of 
 the campaign series, the great "O K" number, the number that 
 ■was all staring with majorities, and capital letters, and points of 
 admiration, the number that announced the certain triumph of the 
 "Whigs, and carried joy into a thousand Log Cabins, contained a 
 most moving "Appeal" to the "Friends Avho owe us." It was in 
 small type, and in a corner remote from the victorious columns. It 
 ran thus : — " We were induced in a few instances to depart from 
 our general rule, and forward the first series of the Log Cabin 
 on credit — having in almost every instance a promise, that the 
 money should be sent us before the first of- November. That 
 time has passed, and we regret to say, tliat many of those prom- 
 ises have not been fulfilled. To tliose who owe us, therefore, we 
 are compelled to say. Friends ! we need our money — our paper- 
 maker needs it! and has a right to ask us for it. The low price 
 at which we have published it, forbids the idea of gain from this 
 paper: we only ask the means of paying what we owe. Once for 
 all, we implore you to do us justice, and enable us to do the 
 same." Tiiis tells the whole story. Not a word need be- added. 
 
 The Log Cabiu was designed only for the campaign, and it was 
 expected to expire with the twenty -seventh number. The zealous 
 editor, however, desirous of presenting the complete returns of the 
 victory, issued an extra number, and sent it gratuitously to all his 
 subscribers. This number announced, also, that the Log Cabin 
 would be resumed in a few weeks. On the fifth of December the 
 new series began, as a family political pajjcr, and continued, with 
 moderate success, till both it and the New Yorker were merged ic 
 the Tribune. 
 
 For his services in the campaign — and no man contributed as 
 much to its success as he— Horace Greeley accepted no office ; 
 nor did he even witness the inaugur.tion. This is not strange. 
 But it u somewhat surprising that the incoming administration had 
 not the decency to offer him sometliing. Mr. Fry (W. II.) made a 
 speech one evening at a political meetinc in Philadelphia. Th« 
 
190 THE LOG CABIN. 
 
 next morning, a committee -waited upon hirn to k jow f )r what of- 
 fice lie intended to become an applicant. " Office ?" said the aston- 
 ished composer — " No office." " Why, then," said the committee, 
 " wliat the h — II did you speak last night for V Mr. Greeley had 
 not even the honor of a visit from a committee of this kind. 
 
 The Log Cabin, however, gave him an immense reputation in all 
 parts of the country, as an able writer and a zealous politician — a 
 reputation which soon became more valuable to him than pecuniary 
 capital. The Log Cabin of April 3d contained the intelligence of 
 General Harrison's death ; and, among a few others, the following 
 advertisement : 
 
 " NEW YORK TRIBIJNE, 
 
 " On Saturday, the tenth day of April instant, the Subscriber will publish 
 the first number of a New Morning Journal of Politics, Literature, and Gen- 
 eral Intelligence. 
 
 " The Tribune, as its name imports, will labor to advance the interests of 
 the People, and to promote their Moral, Socia\ and Political well-being. The 
 immoral and degrading Police Reports, Advertisements and other matter which 
 have been allowed to disgrace the columns of our leading Penny Papers, will 
 be carefully excluded from this, and no exertion spared to render it worthy of 
 the hearty approval of the virtuous and reiined, and a welcome visitant at the 
 family fireside. 
 
 " Earnestly believing that the political revolution which has called William 
 Henry Harrison to the Chief Magistracy of the Nation was a triumph of 
 Right Reason and Public Good over Error and Sinister Ambition, the Tribune 
 will give to the New Administration a frank and cordial, but manly and inde 
 pendent support, judging it always by its acts, and commending those onlj 
 so far as they shall seem calculated to subserve the great end of all govern 
 ment — the welfare of the People. 
 
 " The Tribune will be published every morning on a fair royal sheet — (size 
 of the Log-Cabin and Evening Signal) — and transmitted to its city subscribers 
 at the low price of one cent per copy. Mail subscribers, $4 per annum. It 
 will contain the news by the morning's Southern Mail, which is contained in no 
 Other Penny Paper. Subscriptions are respectfully solicited by 
 
 IIoHACE Greeley, 30 Ann St. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 STARTS THE TRIBUNE. 
 
 rhe Capital— The Daily Press of New York in 1811— The Tribune appears— The Omeni 
 unpropitious — The first week— Conspiracy to put down the Tribune — The Tribune 
 triuniplis— Thomas McElrath— The Tribune alive — Industry of the Kditors— Their 
 Independence- Horace Greeley and John Tyler — The Tribune a Fixed I'act. 
 
 Who furnished tlie capital? ITorace Greeley. But he wat. 
 Bcarcely solvent on the day of the Tribune's appearance. True, 
 and yet it is no less the fact that nearly all the large capital required 
 for the enterprise was supplied hy hiin. 
 
 A large capital is indispensable for the establishment of a good 
 daily paper; but it need not be a capital of money. It may be a 
 capital of reputation, credit, experience, talent, opportunity. Horace 
 Greeley was trusted and admired by his party, and by many of the 
 party to which ho was opposed. In his own circle, lie was known 
 to be a man of incorruptible integrity — one who would pay his 
 debts at any and at every sacrifice — one who was quite incapable of 
 contracting an obligation which he was not confident of being able 
 to discharge. In other words, his credit was good. He had talent 
 and experience. Add to these a thousand dollars lent him by a 
 friend, (.lames Ooggeshall,) and the evident need there was of just 
 such a paper as the Tribnno proved to be, and we have the capital 
 upon which the Tribune started. All told, it was equivalent to a 
 round fifty thousand dollars. 
 
 In the present year, 1855, there are two hundred and three peri- 
 odicals published in the city of New York, of which twelve are 
 daily papers. In the year 1841, the number of periodicals was one 
 hundred, and the number of daily papers twelve. The Courier and 
 Enquirer, Kew York American, Express, and Commercial Adver- 
 tiser were "Whig papers, at ten dollars a year. The Evening Post 
 and Journal of Commerce, at the same price, leaned to tlie ' Demo- 
 cratic' side of politics, the former avowedly, t,he latter not. The 
 
192 STARTS THE TRIBUNE. 
 
 Signal, Tatler, and Star were cheap papers, the first two neutral, the 
 latter dubious. The Herald, at two cents, was — the Herald ! The 
 Sun, a penny paper of iniuiense circulation, was aliectedly neutral, 
 really 'Democratic,' and very objectionable for the gross character 
 of many of its advertisements. A cheap paper, of the Whig school 
 of politics, did not exist. On the 10th of April, 1841, the Tribune 
 appeared — a pajjcr one-third the size of the present Tribune, price 
 one cent; office No. 30 Ann-street; Horace Greeley, editor and 
 proprietor, assiste<l in the department of literary criticism, the fine 
 arts, and general intelligence, by 11. J. Kaymond. Under its head- 
 ing, the new paper bore, as a motto, the dying words of Harrison: 
 
 *'I DESIRE YOU TO UNDEUSTAXD TUE TRUE PRINCIPLES OF THE GOVERN- 
 MENT. I WISH THEM OAKKIEU OUT. 1 ASK NOTHING MORE." 
 
 The omens were not propitious. The appallingly sudden death 
 of General Hai-rison, the President of so many hopes, the first of 
 the Presidents who had died in office, had cast a gloom over the 
 whole country, and a prophetic doubt over the prospects of the 
 Whig party. 
 
 The editor watched the preparation of his first number all night, 
 nervous and anxious, withdrawing this article and altering that, and 
 never leaving tlie form till he saw it, complete and safe, upon the 
 j^ress. The morning dawned sullenly upon the town. "The sleety 
 atmosphere," wrote Mr. Greeley, long al'ter, "the leaden sky, the 
 unseasonable wintriness, the general gloom of that stormy day, 
 which witnessed the grand though mournful pageant whereby our 
 city commemorated the blighting of a nation's hopes in the most 
 untimely death of President Harrison, were not inaptly miniatured 
 m his own prospects and fortunes. Having devoted the seven pre- 
 ceding years almost wholly to the establishment of a weekly com- 
 peud of literature and intelligence, (The New Yorker,) wherefrom, 
 though widely circulated and warmly praised, he had received no 
 other return than tiie experience and wider acquaintance thence 
 accruing, he entered upon his novel and most precarious enterprise, 
 most slenderly provided with the external means of commanding 
 subsistence and success in its prosecution. With no partner or busi- 
 ness associate, witli inconsiderable pecuniary resources, and only a 
 promise from political friends of aid to the extent of two thousand 
 dollars, of which but one half was ever realized, (ana that long 
 
THE TRIBUNE APPEAUS. 1&3 
 
 eince repaid, but the sense of obligatioii to the far from wealthy 
 friend wiio made the loan is none the less fresh and ardent,) ho un- 
 dertook the enterprise — at all times and under any circumstances 
 Lazardous — of adding one more to the already amply extensive list 
 of daily ne\vsi)apers issued in this emporium, where the current 
 expenses of such pai)ers, already appalling, were soon to bo doubled 
 by rivalry, by stimulated competition, by the progress of business, 
 the complication of interests, and especially by the general dift'usion 
 of the electric telegraph, and where at least nineteen out of every 
 twenty attempts to establish a new daily have proved disastrous 
 failures. Manifestly, the prospects of success in this case were far 
 from flattering." 
 
 The Tribune began with about six hundred subscribers, procured 
 by the exertions of a few of the editor's personal and ])olitical 
 friends. Five thousand copies of the first number were printed, and 
 " we found some difBculty in giving them away," says Mr. Greeley 
 in the article just quoted. The expenses of the first week were 
 five hundred and twenty-five dollars; the receipts, ninety-two dol- 
 lars. A sorry prospect for an editor whose whole cash capital was 
 a thousand dollars, and that borrowed. 
 
 But the Tribune was a live paper. Fight was the word with it 
 from the start ; Fight has been the word ever since ; Fight is the 
 word this day ! If it had been let alone, it would not have died ; its 
 superiority both in quantity and the quality of its matter to any other 
 of the cheap papers would have prevented that catastrophe ; but its 
 progress was amazingly accelerated in the first days of its existence 
 by the efforts of an enemy to put it down. Tliat enemy was the 
 Sun. 
 
 " The publisher of the Sun," wrote Park Benjamin in the Even- 
 ing Signal, "has, during the last few days, got up a conspiracy to 
 crush the New York Tribune. The Tribune was, from its incep- 
 tion, very successful, and, in many instances, persons in the habit of 
 taking the Sun, stopped that paper — wisely preferring a sheet which 
 gives twice the amount of reading matter, and always contains 
 the latest intelligence. This fact afforded sufficient evidence to 
 Beach, as it did to all others who were cognizant of the circum- 
 stances, that the Tribune would, before the lapse of many weeks^ 
 supplant the Sun. To prevent this, and, if possible, to destroy the 
 
 9 
 
i04 STARTS THE TniBUNE- 
 
 cireulation of the Tribune altogetlier, an attempt was made to briba 
 the carriers to give up their routes ; fortunately this succeeded only 
 in the cases of two men who were likewise carriers of the Sua 
 In the next place, all the newsmen were threatened with being de- 
 prived of the Sun, if, in any instance, they were found selling the 
 Tribune. But these efforts were not enough to gratify Beach. Hp 
 instigated boys in his office, or others, to whip the boys engaged 
 in selling the Tribune. No sooner was this fact ascertained at the 
 5>ffice of the Tribune, than young men were sent to defend the 
 sale of that paper. They had not been on their station long, be- 
 fore a boy from the Sun office approaclied and began to flog the 
 lad witli the Tribune ; retributory measures were instantly resorted 
 to ; but, before a just chastisement was inliicted, Beach himself, 
 and a man in his employ, came out to sustain their youthful emis- 
 sary. The whole matter will, we understand, be submitted to the 
 proper magistrates." 
 
 The public took up tlie quarrel with great spirit, and this was o?ie 
 reason of the Tribune's speedy and striking success. For three 
 weeks subscribers poured in at the rate of three hundred a day ! 
 It began its fourth week with an edition of six thousand ; its sev- 
 enth week, with eleven thousand, Avhich was the utmost that could 
 be printed with its first press. The advertisements increased in 
 proportion. The first number contained four columns ; the twelfth, 
 nine columns ; the hundredth, thirteen columns. Triumph ! tri- 
 umph ! nothing but triumph ! New presses capable of printing 
 the astounding number of thirty-five liundred copies an hour are 
 duly announced. The indulgence of advertisers is besought ' for 
 this day only ;' ' to-morrow, their favors shall appear.' The price 
 of advertising was raised from four to six cents a line. Letters of 
 approval came by every mail. " We have a number of requests,'* 
 &aid the Editor in an early paragraph, " to blow up all sorts of 
 abuses, which shall be attended to as fast as possible." In another, 
 he returns his thanks " to the friends of this paper and the princi- 
 ples it upholds, for the addition of over a thousand substantial 
 names to its subscription list last week." Again : " The Sun is rush- 
 ing rapidly to destruction. It has lost even the groveling sagacity, 
 the vulgar sordid instinct with which avarice once gifted it." 
 Again : " Everything appears to work well with us. True, w« 
 
CONSPIRACY TO PUT DOWN THE TRIBUNE. 195 
 
 have Tiot heard (except tliroiigh the veracious Sun) fnini any gen- 
 tlemen proposing to give us a $2,500 press ; but if any gentlemen 
 have such an intention, and proceed to put it in practice, the pub- 
 Jic may rest assured that they will not be ashamed of the act, while 
 we shall be most eager to proclaim it and acknowledge the kind- 
 ness. But even thougli we wait for such a token of good-will and 
 sv.npathy until the Sun shall cease to be the slimy and venomous 
 .nstrument of loco-focoism it is, Jesuitical and deadly in politics and 
 groveling in morals — we shall be abundantly sustained and cheered 
 uy the support we are regularly receiving." Editors wrote in the 
 English language in those days. Again : " The Sun of yesterday 
 gravely informed its readers that ' IL is douhfful whether the Land 
 Bill can pass the House.'' The Tribune of the same date contained 
 the news of the passaffe of that very bill !" Triumph ! saucy tri- 
 umph ! nothing but triumph ! 
 
 One thing only was wanting to secure the Tribune's brilliant suc- 
 cess ; and that was an eflBcient business partner. Just in the nick 
 of time, the needed and predestined man appeared, the man of all 
 others for the duty required. On Saturday morning, July 31st, the 
 following notices appeared under the editorial head on tbe second 
 page : 
 
 The undersigned has great pleasure in announcing to his friends and the 
 public that he has formed a copartnership with Thomas McElrath, and 
 that The Tribune will hereafter be published by himself and Mr. M. under 
 the firm of GREELEY & McELRATH. The principal Editorial charge of 
 the paper will still rest with the subscriber ; while the entire business man- 
 agement of the concern henceforth devolves upon his partner. This arrange- 
 ment, while it relieves the undersigned from a large portion of the labors and 
 cares which have pressed hcavil}' upon him for the last four months, assures 
 to the paper efficiency and strength in a department where they have hitherto 
 been needed; and I cannot bo mistaken in the trust that the accession to its 
 conduct of a gentleman who has twice been honored with their suffrages for 
 an important station, will strengthen The Tribune in the confidence and 
 affections of the Whigs of New York. Respectfully, 
 
 July 31st. Horace Greeley. 
 
 The undersigned, in connecting himself with the conduct of a public jour- 
 nal, invokes a continuance of that courtesy and good feeling which has been 
 extended to him by his fellow-citizens. Having heretofore received eviJcnca 
 nf kindness and regard from the conductors of the AVhig press of this citv 
 
lOG 
 
 STARTS THE TRIBUNE. 
 
 and rejoicing in the friendship of most of them, it will be his aim in his new 
 vocation to justify that kindness and strengthen and increase those friendships. 
 His hearty concurrence in the principles, P(ditieal and Moral, on which Thb 
 Tribune has thus far been conducted, has been a principal incitement to the 
 connection Aere announced ; and the statement of this fact will preclude the 
 necessity ot any special declaration of opinions. With gratitude for past 
 favors, awi an anxious desire to merit a continuance of regard, he remains, 
 The Public's humble servant, Thomas McElrath. 
 
 A fl'rict disciplinarian, a close calculator, a man of nietliod and 
 ordftp. experienced in business, Mr. McElrath possessed in an emi- 
 nent degree the very qualities in which the editor of the Tribune 
 was most deficient. Roll Horace Greeley and Thomas McElrath 
 into one, and the result would be, a very respectable approximation 
 to a Perfect Man. The two, united in partnership, have been able 
 to produce a very respectable approximation to a perfect newspa- 
 per. As Damon and Pythias are the types of perfect friendship, 
 so may Greeley and McElrath be of a perfect partnership; and one 
 may say, with a sigh at tlie many discordant unions the world pre- 
 sents, Oh I that every Greeley could find his McElrath ! and bless- 
 ed is the McElrath that finds his Greeley ! 
 
 Under Mr. McEIratli's direction, order and efficiency were soon 
 introduced into the business departments of the Tribune office. It 
 became, and has ever since been, one of the best-conducted news- 
 paper establishments in the world. Early in the fall, the New 
 Yorker and Log Cabin were merged into the Weekly Tribune, the 
 first number of wliich appeared on the 20tli of September. Tho 
 concern, thus consolidated, knew, thenceforth, nothing but prosper- 
 ity. The New Yorker liad existed seven years and a half; the Log 
 Cabin, eighteen months. 
 
 Tlie Tribune, I repeat, was a live paper. It was, also, a variously 
 interesting one. Its selections, which in the early volumes occupied 
 severRl columns daily, were of high character. It gave the i)hilos- 
 ojdiers of the Dial an ample hearing, and many an apj)reciating 
 notice. It made liberal extracts from Carlyle, Cousin, and others, 
 whose works contained the spirit of the New Time. The eighth 
 number gave fifteen songs from a new volume of Thomas Moore 
 Barnaby Rudge was published entire in the first volume. Mr. Ray- 
 mond's notices of new books were a conspicuous and interesting fea- 
 
ITS INDEPENDENCE. 197 
 
 tare. Still more so, were his clear and able sketches and reports of 
 public lectures. In November, the Tribune gave a fair and cour- 
 teous report of the Millerite Convention. About the same time, Mr. 
 Greeley liimsclf reported the celsbnited McLeod trial at Utica, 
 sending on from four to nine columns a day. 
 
 Amazing was the industry of the editors. Single numbers of the 
 Tribune contained eighty editorial paragraplis. Mr. Greeley's aver- 
 age day's work was three columns, ecpial to fifteen pages of foolscap ; 
 and the mere writing which an editor does, is not half his daily 
 labor. In May, appeared a series of articles on Retrenchment and 
 lieform in the City Government, a subject upon which the Tribune 
 has since shed a considerable number of barrels of ink. In the 
 same month, it disturbed a hornet's nest by saying, that " the whole 
 moral atmosphere of the Theater, as it actually exists among us, is 
 in our judgment unwholesome, and therefore, while we do not pro- 
 pose to war upon it, we seek no alliance with it, and cannot con- 
 scientiously urge our readers to visit it, as would be expected if 
 we were to solicit and profit by its advertising patronage." 
 
 Down came all the hornets of the press. Tbe Sun had tlie eflfront- 
 ery to assert, in reply, that "most of tbe illegitimate births in New 
 York owe their origin to acquaintances formed at 'Evening 
 Churches,' and that 'Class-meetings' have done more to people the 
 House of Refuge than twenty times tbe number of theaters." This 
 discussion might have been turned to great advantage by the 
 Tribune, if it had not, with obstinate honesty, given the re- 
 ligious world a rebuff by assertmg its right to advertise heretical 
 books. 
 
 "As to our friend," said the Tribune, "who complains of the 
 advertising of certain Theological works which do not square with 
 his oi)inions, we must tell him plainly that he is unreasonable. No 
 other paper that we ever heard of establishes any test ol tlie Or- 
 thodoxy of works advertised in its columns; even the Comiriercial 
 Advertiser and Journal of Commerce advertise for the very sect 
 proscribed by him. If one were to attempt a discrimination, where 
 would he end ? One man considers Universalism immoral ; but 
 another is equally positive that Arminianism is so; while a tiiird 
 holds the same bad opinion of Calvinism. Who shall decide be- 
 tween them? Certainly not the Editor of a daily newsiia[)er, un 
 
198 • STARTS THE TRIBUNE. 
 
 less lift prints it avowedly under tlie patronage of a particular sect 
 Our friend inquires ■whether we should advertise infidel books also 
 "We answer, that if any one should offer an advertisement of lewd, 
 I'ibald, indecent, blasphemous or law-prohibited books, we should 
 claim the right to reject it. But a work no otherwise objection- 
 able than as controverting the Christian record and doctrine, would 
 not be objected to by us. True Christianity neither fears refutation 
 nor dreads discussion — or, as Jefferson has forcibly said, ' Error 
 of opinion may be tolerated where Keason is left free to combat 
 it.'" 
 
 In politics, the Tribune was strongly, yet not blindly whig. It 
 appealed, in its first number, to the whig party for support. The 
 same number expressed the decided opinion, that Mr. Tyler would 
 prove to be, as president, all that the whigs desired, and that 
 opinion the Tribune was one of the last to yield. In September 
 it Justified Daniel "Webster in retaining office, after the 'treachery' 
 of Tyler was manifest, and when all his colleagues had resigned in 
 disgust. It justified him on the ground that he could best bring to 
 a conclusion the Ashburton negotiations. This defense of Web- 
 ster was deeply oflfensive to the more violent whigs, and it remain- 
 ed a pretext of attack on the Tribune for several years. With 
 regard to his course in the Tyler controversy, Mr. Greeley wrote 
 in 1845 a long explanation, of which the material passage was as 
 follows: — "In December, 1841, I visited Washington upon assur- 
 ances that John Tyler and his advisers were disposed to return to 
 the Whig party, and that I could be of service in bringing about a 
 complete reconciliation between the Administration and the Whigs 
 in Congress and in the country. I never proposed to 'connect 
 myself with the cause of the Administration,' but upon the under- 
 standing that it should be heartily and faithfully a Whig Adminis- 
 tration. * * Finally, I declined uttei-ly and absolutely, to ' con- 
 nect myself with the cause of the Administration' the moment I 
 became satisfied, as I did during that visit, that the Chief of the 
 Government did not desire a reconciliation, upon the basis of sus- 
 taining Wiiig principles and Whig measures, with the party he 
 Ijad so deeply wronged, but was treacherously coqueting with Lo- 
 co-Focoism, and fooled with the idea of a re-election." 
 
 Agaiust Repudiation, then an exciting topic, the Tribune went 
 
THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 199 
 
 dead ia many a telling article. In belialf of Protection to Ameri- 
 can Indiistrj-, the editor wrote columns upon colunms. 
 
 In a word, tlio Tribune was equal to its opportunity ; it lived 
 up to its privileges. In every department it steadily and strikingly 
 improved throughout the year. It began its second year with 
 twelve tliousand subscribers, and a daily average of thirteen col- 
 unms of advertisements. The Tribune was a Fixed Fact. 
 
 The history of a daily paper is the history of the world. It is 
 obviously impossible in the compass of a work like this to give 
 anything like a complete historj^ of the Tribune. For that pur- 
 pose ten octavo volumes would be required, and most interesting 
 volumes they would be. All that I can do is to select the leading 
 events of its history which were most intimately connected with 
 the history of its editor, and dwell with some minuteness upon 
 them, connecting them together only by a slender thread of nar- 
 I'ative, and omitting even to mention many things of real interest. 
 It will be convenient, too, to group together in separate chapters 
 events similar in their nature, but far removed from one another 
 in the time of their occurrence. Indeed, I am overwhelmed with 
 the mass of materials, and must struggle out as best I can. 
 
 A great book is a great evil, says the Greek Reader. This book 
 was fore-ordained to be a small one. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 
 
 What made Horace Greeley a Socialist — The hard winter of 181)8 — Albert Brisbane- 
 Tbe subject bro.-jched — Series of articles by Mr. Brisbane bc^nn — Their effect — Cry 
 of Mad Dog — Discussion between Horace Greeley and Henry J. Raymond— How it 
 arose— \bstiact of it in a conversational form. 
 
 The editor of the Tribune was a Socialist years before the Tri- 
 bune came into existence. 
 
 The winter of 1838 was unusually severe. The times were hard, 
 
200 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 
 
 fnel and food were dear, many thousands of men and women were 
 out of employment, and tliere was general distress. As the cold 
 months wore slowly on, the sutlerlugs of the i)oor hecame so aggra- 
 vated, and the number of the unemi)loyed increased to such a de- 
 gree, that the ordinary means were inadequate to relieve even those 
 who were destitute of every one of the necessaries of life. Some 
 died of starvation. Some were frozen to death. Many, through 
 exposure and privation, contracted fatal diseases. A large number, 
 who had never before known want, were reduced to beg. Re- 
 spectable mechanics were known to offer their services as waiters 
 in eating-houses for their food only. There never had been such a 
 time of suffering in New York before, and there has not been since. 
 Extraordinary measures were taken by the comfortable classes to 
 alleviate the sufferings of their unfortunate fellow-citizens. Meet- 
 ings were held, subscrii)tions were made, committees were appoint- . 
 ed ; and upon one of the committees Horace Greeley was named to 
 serve, and did serve, faithfully and laboriously, for many weeks. 
 The district which his conunittee had in charge was the Sixth Ward, 
 the 'bloody' Sixth, the sq-ualid, povertj^-stricken Sixth, the pool into 
 which all that is worst in this metropolis has a tendency to reel and 
 slide. It was his task, and that of his colleagues, to see that no one 
 froze or starved in that forlorn and polluted region. More than this 
 they could not do, for the subscriptions, liberal as they were, were 
 not more than sufKcient to relieve actual and pressing distress. In 
 the better parts of the Sixth Ward a large number of mechanics 
 lived, whose cry was, not for the bread and the fuel of charity, but 
 for Work ! Charity their honest souls disdained. Its food choked 
 them, its fire chilled them. Work, give us work ! was their eager, 
 passionate demand. 
 
 All this Horace Greeley heard and saw. He was a young man — 
 not quite twenty-six — compassionate to weakness, generous to a 
 fault. He had known what it was to beg for work, from shop to 
 shop, from town to town ; and, that very winter, he was struggling 
 with debt, at no safe distance from bankruptcy. WJiy must these 
 things be ? Are they inevitable ? Will they always be inevitable ? 
 Is it in human wisdom to devise a remedy? in liuman virtue to ap- 
 ply it ? Can the beneficent God have designed this, who, with such 
 wonderful profusion, has provided for the wants, tastes, and luxuries 
 
ALBERT BRISBANE. 201 
 
 of all his creatures, and for a hundred times as many creatures as 
 yet have lived at the same time ? Such questions Horace Greeley 
 pondered, in silence, in the depths of his heart, during that winter 
 of misery. 
 
 From Paris came soon the calm, emphatic answer. These things 
 need not he! They are due alone to the short-sightedness and in- 
 justice of man! Albert Brisbane brought the message. Horace 
 Greeley heard and believed it. He took it to his heart. It became 
 a part of him. 
 
 Albert Brisbane was a young gentleman of liberal education, tho 
 son of wealthy parents. His European tour included, of course, a 
 residence at Paris, where tho fascinating dreams of Fourier wero 
 the subject of conversation. He procured the works of that ami- 
 able and noble-minded man, read them with eager interest, and be- 
 came completely convinced that his captivating theories were capa- 
 ble of speedy realization — not, perhaps, in slow and conservative 
 Europe, but in progressive and unshackled America. He returned 
 home a Fourierite, and devoted himself with a zeal and disinterest- 
 edness that are rare in the class to which he belonged, and that in 
 any class cannot be too highly praised, to the dissemination of tho 
 doctrines in which he believed. He wrote essays and pamphlets. 
 He expounded Fourierism in conversation. He started a magazine 
 called the Future, devoted to the explanation of Fourier's plans, 
 published by Greeley & Co. Uo delivered lectures. In short, he 
 did all that a man could do to make known to his fellow men what 
 he believed it became them to know. He made a few converts, 
 but only a few, till the starting of the Tribune gave him access to 
 the public ear. 
 
 Horace Greeley made no secret of his conversion to Fourierism. 
 On the contrary, he avowed it constantly in private, and occasion- 
 ally in public print, though never in his own paper till towards the 
 end of the Tribune's first year. His native sagacity taught him that 
 before Fourierism could be realized, a complete revolution in pub- 
 lic sentiment nmst be effected, a revolution which would require 
 many years of patient effort on the part of its advocates. 
 
 The first mention of Mr. Brisbane and Fourierism in the Tribune, 
 appeared October 21st, 1841. It was merely a notice of one of 
 Mr. Brisbane's lectures : 
 
 9* 
 
202 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 
 
 " Mr. A. Brisbane delivered a lecture at the Stuyresaut Institute last evening 
 upon the Genius of Christianity considered in its bearing on the Social Insti- 
 tutions and Terrestrial Destiny of the Human Race. He contended that the 
 mission of Christianity upon earth has hitherto been imperfectly understood, 
 and that the doctrines of Christ, carried into practical effect, would free the 
 world of Want, Misery, Temptation and Crime. This, Mr. B. believe.'^, will be 
 effected by a system of Association, or the binding up of indiridual and fam- 
 ily interests in Social and Industrial Communities, wherein all faculties may 
 be developed, all energies usefully employed, all legitimate desires satisfied, 
 and idleness, want, temptation and crime be annihilated. In such Associa- 
 tions, individual property will be maintained, the family be held sacred, and 
 every inducement held out to a proper ambition. Mr. B. will lecture hereafter 
 on the practical details of the system of Fourier, of whom he is a zealous dis- 
 ciple, and we shall then endeavor to give a more clear and full account of his 
 doctrines." 
 
 A month later, the Tribune copied a flippant and sneering arti- 
 cle from the London Times, on the subject of Fourierism in France. 
 In his introductory remarks the editor said : 
 
 " We have written something, and shall yet write much more, in illustra- 
 tion and advocacy of the great Social revolution which our age is destined to 
 commence, in rendering all useful Labor at once attractive and honorable, 
 and banishing Want and all consequent degradation from the globe. The 
 germ of this revolution is developed in the writings of Charles Fourier, a phil- 
 anthropic and observing Frenchman, who died in 1837, after devoting thirty 
 years of a studious and unobtrusive life to inquiries, at once patient and pro- 
 found, into the causes of the great mass of Social evils whi?h overwhelm Hu- 
 manity, and the true means of removing them. These means he proves to be 
 a system of Industrial and Household Association, on the principle of Joint 
 Stock Investment, whereby Labor will be ennobled and rendered attractive 
 and universal. Capital be offered a secure and lucrative investment, and Tal- 
 ent and Industry find appropriate, constant employment, and adequate re- 
 ward, while Plenty, Comfort, and the best means of Intellectual and Moral 
 Improvement is guaranteed to all, regardless of former acquirements or con- 
 dition. This granil, benignant plan is fully developed in the various works 
 of M. Fourier, which are abridged in the single volume on ' The Social Des- 
 tiny of Man,' by Mr. A. Brisbane, of this State. Some fifteen or si.xteen other 
 works in illustration and defense of the system have been given to the world, 
 by Considerant, Chevalier, Paget, and other French writers, and by Hugh Do- 
 herty, Dr. H. McCormack, and others in English. A tri-weekly journal ('La 
 Plialange') devoted to the system, is published by M. Victor Considerant in 
 
SERIES OF ARTICLES BY MR. BRISBANE BEGUN. 203 
 
 Paris, and another (the 'London Phalanx ') by Hugh Dohorty, in London, 
 sach ably edited." 
 
 Early in 18-12, a number of gentlemen associated themselves to- 
 gether for the purpose of bringing the schemes of Fourier fully and 
 proiniuently before the public; and to this end, they ])urcliased the 
 right to occupy one column daily on the first page of the Tribune 
 ■with an article, or articles, on the subject, from the pen of Mr. 
 Brisbane. The first of these articles appeared on the first of March, 
 1842, and continued, with some interruptions, at first daily, after- 
 wards three times a Aveek, till about the middle of 1844, -wlien Mr. 
 Brisbane went again to Europe. The articles were signed with the 
 letter B, and were known to be communicated. They were calm 
 in tone, clear in exposition. At first, they seem to have attracted 
 little attention, and less opposition. They were regarded (as far as 
 my youthful recollection serves) in the light of articles to be skip- 
 ped, and by most of ihe city readers of the Tribune, I presume, 
 they were skipped with the utmost regularity, and quite as a matter 
 of course. Occasionally, however, the subject was alluded to edi- 
 torially, and every such allusion was of a nature to be read. Grad- 
 ually, Fourierism became one of the topics of the time. Gradually 
 certain editors discovered that Fourierism was unchristian. Grad- 
 ually, the cry of Mad Dog arose. Meanwhile, the articles of Mr. 
 Brisbane were having their eifect upon the People. 
 
 In May, 18-13, Mr, Greeley wrote, and with perfect truth : 
 
 " The Doctrine of Association is spreading throughout the country with a 
 rapidity which we did not anticipate, and of which we had but little hope. 
 AVa receive papers from nearly all parts of the Northern and Western States, 
 anH some from the South, containing articles upon Association, in which gen- 
 eral views and outlines of the System are given. They speak of the subject 
 as one ' which is calling public attention,' or, ' about which so much is now 
 said,' or, 'which is a good deal spoken of in this part of the country,' Ac, 
 showing that our Principles are becoming a topic of public discussion. From 
 the rapid progress of our Doctrines during the past year, wo look forward 
 with hope to their rapid continued dissemination. We feel perfectly confident 
 that never, in the history of the world, has a pliilosophioul doctrine, or the plan 
 of a great reform, spread with the rapidity which the Doctrine of Association 
 has spread in the United States for the last year or two. There are now a 
 large number of papers, and quite a number of lecturers in various parta of 
 
204 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 
 
 the country, who are lending their efforts to the cause, so that the onward 
 movement must be greatly accelerated. 
 
 "Small Associations are springing up rapidly in various parts of the coun- 
 try. The Sylvania Association in Pike country. Pa., is now in operation ; 
 about seventy persons are on the domain, erecting buildings, Ac, and prepar- 
 ing for the reception of other members. 
 
 " An Association has been organized in Jefferson county. Our friend, A. 
 M. Watson, is at the head of it; he has been engaged for the last three years 
 in spreading the principles in that part of the State, and the result is the 
 formation of an Association. Several farmers have put in their farms and 
 taken stock ; by this means the Domain has been obtained. About three 
 hundred persons, we are informed, are on the lands. They have a very fine 
 quarry on their Domain, and they intend, among the branches of Industry 
 which they will pursue, to take contracts for erecting buildings out of the 
 Association. They are now erecting a banking-house in Watertown, near 
 which the Association is located. 
 
 " Efforts are making in variotis parts of this State, in Vermont, in Penn- 
 sylvania, Indiana, and Illinois, to establish Associations, which will probably 
 be successful in the course of the present year. We have heard of these 
 movements; there may be others of which we are not informed." 
 
 About the same time, he gave a box on the ear to the editors who 
 wrote ofFoiirierism in a hostile spirit : — " The kindness of our friends 
 of the New York Express, Rochester Evening Post, and sundry 
 other Journals which appear inclined to wage a personal controversy 
 with us respecting Fourierism, (the Express without knowing how to 
 spell the word,) is duly appreciated. Had we time and room for 
 disputation on that subject, we would prefer opponents who would 
 not be compelled to confess frankly or betray clearl}' their utter 
 ignorance of the matter, whatever might be their manifestations of 
 personal pique or malevolence in unfeir representations of the little 
 they do understand. We counsel our too belligerent friends to pos- 
 sess their souls in patience, and not be too eager to rival the for- 
 tune of him whose essay proving that steamships could not cross 
 the Atlantic happened to reach us in the first steamship that did, 
 cross it. 'The proof of the pudding' is not found in wrangling 
 about it." 
 
 We also find, occasionally, a paragraph in the Tribune like this : 
 "T. W. Whitley and H. Greeley will address such citizens of New- 
 ark as choose to hear them on the subject of ' Association ' at 7J 
 
DISCUSSION BETWEEN II. GREELEY AND II. J. RAYMOND. 205 
 
 o'clock this evening at the Relief Hall, rear of J. M. Quiinbj's Re- 
 pository." 
 
 Too fast. Too fast. I need not detail tlie ])n)gres3 of Fonrier- 
 ism — the many attempts made to establish Associations — the failure 
 of all of them but one, which still exists — the ruin that ensued to 
 many worthy men — the ridicule with wliicli the Associationists were 
 assailed — the odium excited in many minds against the Tribune — 
 the final relinquishment of tlic subject. All tliis is perfectly well 
 known to the people of this country. 
 
 Let us come, at once, to the grand climax of the Tribune's Fou- 
 rierism, tlie fjimous discussion of the subject between Horace Gree- 
 ley and H. J. Raymond, of the Courier and Enquirer, in the year 
 1846. That discussion finished Fourierism in the United States. 
 
 Mr. Raymond had left the Tribune, and joined the Courier and 
 Enqnirer, at the solicitation of Col. Webb, the editor of tlie latter. 
 It was a pity the Tribune let him go, for he is a born journalist, and 
 could have helped the Tribune to attain the position of the great, 
 only, undisputed Metroi)olitan Journal, many years sooner than it 
 will. Horace Greeley is not a born journalist. He is too much in 
 earnest to be a perfect editor. He has too many opinions and pref- 
 erences. He is a born legislator, a Deviser of Remedies, a Sug- 
 gester of Expedients, a Framer of Measures. The most successful 
 editor is he whose great endeavor it is to tell the public all it icnnta 
 to know, and whose conunents on passing events best express the 
 feeling of the country with regard to them. Mr. Raymond is 
 not a man of first-rate talent — great talent would be in liis way — 
 he is most interesting when he attacks; and of tiie varieties of 
 composition, polished vituperation is not the most difficult. But 
 he has the right notion of editing a daily paper, and when the Tri- 
 bune lost him, it lost more than it had tlie slightest idea of — as 
 events have since shown. 
 
 However, Horace Greeley and Henry J. Raymond, the one nat- 
 urally liberal, the other naturally conservative — the one a Universal- 
 ist, the otiier a Presbyterian — the one regarding tlie world as a 
 place to be made better by living in it, the other regarding it as 
 an oyster to be opened, and bent on opening it — would have found 
 it hard to work together on equal terms. They separated amicably, 
 and each went his way. The discussion of Fourierism arose thus • 
 
206 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 
 
 Mr. Brisbane, on his return from Europe, renewed the agitation 
 of his subject. Tiie Tribune of August lOtli, 1846, contained a 
 letter by him, addressed to tlie editors of tlie Courier and Enquirer, 
 I)roposing several questions, to which answers were requested, 
 respecting Social Reform. The Courier replied. Tiie Tribune re- 
 joined editorially, and was answered in turn by the Courier. Mr. 
 Brisbane addressed a second letter to the Courier, and sent it 
 direct to the editor of that pajier in manuscript. The Courier 
 agreed to publish it, if the Tril)uno would give place to its reply. 
 The Tribune declined doing so, but (challenged the editor of the 
 Courier to a public discussion of the whole subject. 
 
 "Though we cannot now," wrote Mr. Greeley, "open our col- 
 umns to a set discussion by others of social queslinns (which Tuay 
 or may not refer mainly to points deemed relevant by us), wo readily 
 close with the .s/^i/'i/ of the Courier's proposition. * * As soon 
 as the State election is fairly over — say Nov. 10th — we will pub- 
 lish an entire article^ filling a column of the Tribune, very nearly, 
 in favor of Association as we understand it; and, upon tlie Courier 
 copying this and replying, we will give place to its reply, and re- 
 spond ; and so on, till each party shall liave published twelve articles 
 on its own side, and twelve on the other, which shall fulfill the 
 terms of this agreement. All the twelve articles of each party 
 shall be published without abridgment or variation in the Daily, 
 Weekl}', and Semi-weekly editions of both papers. Afterward each 
 party will, of course, be at liberty to comment at pleasure in his 
 own columns. In order that neither paper shall be crowded with 
 this discussion, one article per week, only, on either side, shall be 
 published, unless the Courier shall prefer greater dispatch. Is not 
 this a fair proposition? "What says the Courier? It lias, of course, 
 the advantage of the defensive position and of the last word." 
 
 Tlie Courier said, after mucli toying and dallying, and a pre- 
 liminary skirmish of paragraphs, Come on! and, on the 20th of 
 Kovember, tlie Tribune came on. The debate lasted six months. 
 It was conducted on both sides witli spirit and ability, and it at- 
 tracted uuicli attention. The twenty-four articles, of which it con- 
 eisted, Avere afterwards published by the Harpers in a pamphlet of 
 eighty-three closely-printed, double-columned pages, which had a 
 considerable sale, and has long been out of print. On one side 
 
ABSTRACT OF THE DISCUSSION. 207 
 
 we see earnestness and sincerity; on tlie other tact and skill. 
 One strove to convince, the other to triumph. Tlio thread of ar- 
 gument is often lost in a maze of irrelevancy. The suhject, in- 
 deed, was peculiarly ill* calculated for a public discussion. When 
 men converse on a scheme which has for its object the good of 
 mankind, let them confer in awful whispers — apart, like conspir- 
 ators , not distract themselves in dispute in the hearing of a nation ; 
 for thej' Avho would benefit miinkind must do it either by stealth 
 or by violence. 
 
 I have tried to condense this tremendous pamphlet into the form 
 and brevity of a conversation, with the following result. Neither 
 of the speakers, however, are to be held responsible for the language 
 employed. 
 
 Horace Greeley. Hov. I^tli. The earth, the air, the waters, the 
 sunshine, with their natural products, w^ere divinely intended and 
 appointed for the sustenance and enjoyment of the whole human 
 family. But the present/aci is, that a very large majority of man- 
 kind are landless ; and, by law, the landless have no inherent right 
 to stand on a single square foot of their native State, except in the 
 highways. Perishing with cold, they have no legal right to a stick 
 of decaying fuel in the most unfrequented morass. Famishing, they 
 have no legal right to pluck and eat the bitterest acorn in the depths 
 of the remotest forest. But tlie Past cannot be recalled. What 
 has been done, has been done. The legal rights of individuals must 
 be held sacred. But those whom society has divested of their natu- 
 ral right to a share in the soil, are entitled to Compensation^ i. e. to 
 continuous opportunity to earn a subsistence by Labor. To own 
 land is to possess this opportunity. The majority own no land. 
 Therefore the minority, who own legalhj all the land, which natu- 
 rally belongs to all men alike, are bound to secure to the landless 
 majority a compensating security of remunerating Labor. But, as 
 society is now organized, this is not, and cannot be, done. " Work, 
 work ! give us something to do! anything that will secure us hon- 
 est bread," is at this moment the prayer of not less than thirty 
 thousand human beings within the sound of the City-Hall bell. 
 Here is an enormous waste and loss. We must devise a remedy 
 and that remedy, I propose to show, is found in Association. 
 
208 THE TRIBUKE AND FOCRIERISM. 
 
 H. J. Raymond. Xor. 23<Z. Heavens ! Here we have one of the 
 leading Whig presses of Kew York advocating the doctiine that no 
 man can rifjhifully own land ! Fanny AVright was of that oi)inion. 
 The doctrine is erroneous and dangerous. If a man cannot right- 
 fully own land, he cannot riglitfully own anything which the land 
 produces; that is, he cannot rightfully own anything at all. The 
 blessed institution of property, the basis of the social fabric, frowi 
 which arts, agriculture, commerce, civilization spring, and without 
 which they could not exist, is threatened with destruction, and by 
 a leading Whig paper too. Conservative Powers, preserve us! 
 
 Horace Greeley. Nov. 2(ith. Fudge ! What I said was this : So- 
 ciety, having divested the majority of any right to the soil, is bound 
 to compensate them by guaranteeing to each an opi)ortunity of earn- 
 ing a subsistence Vjy Labor. Your vulgar, clap-trap allusion to Fan- 
 ny Wright does not surprise me. I shall neither desert nor deny a 
 truth because she, or any one else, lias proclaimed it. But to pro- 
 ceed. By association I mean a Social Order, which shall take the 
 place of the present Township, to be composed of some hundreds 
 or some thousands of persons, who shall be united together in inter- 
 est and industry for the purpose of securing to each individual the 
 following things : 1, an elegant and commodious house ; 2, an edu- 
 cation, complete and thorough ; 3, a secure subsi>stence ; 4, oppor- 
 tunity to labor; 5, fair wages; 6, agreeable social relations; 7, prog- 
 ress in knowledge and skill. As society is at present organized, 
 these are the portion of a very small minority. But by association 
 of capital and industry, they might become the lot of all ; inasmuch 
 as association tends to Economy in all departments, economy in 
 lands, fences, fuel, household labor, tools, education, medicine, legal 
 advice, and commercial exchanges. My opp>onent will please ob- 
 serve that his article is three times as long as mine, and devoted in 
 good part to telling the public that the Tribune is an exceedingly 
 mischievous paper ; which is an imposition. 
 
 H. J. Raymond. Nov. 30^A. A home, fair wages, education, etc., 
 are very desirable, we admit; and it is the unceasing aim of all good 
 men in society, as it now exists, to place those blessings within the 
 reach of all. The Tribune's claim that it can be accomplished only 
 by association is only a claim. Substantiate it. Give us proof ol 
 
ABSTRACT OF THE DISCUSSION. 209 
 
 its efficacy. Tell us in whom the property is to bo vested, how 
 labor is to be remunerated, what share capital is to have in tlie con- 
 cern, by what device men are to be induced to labor, how moral 
 ofleuses are to be excluded or punished. Then we may be able to 
 discuss the subject. Nothing was stipulated about the length of the 
 articles ; and we do think the Tribune a mischievous paper. 
 
 Horace Greeley. Dec. 1st. The property of an association will 
 be vested in those who contributed the capital to establish it, repre- 
 sented by shares of stock, just as the properly of a bank, factory, or 
 railroad now is. Labor, skill and talent, will be remunerated by a 
 fixed proportion of their products, or of its proceeds, if sold. Men 
 will be induced to labor by a knowledge that its rewards will be a 
 certain and major proportion of the product, w^hieh of course will 
 be less or more according to the skill and industry of each individ- 
 ual. The slave has no motive to diligence except fear; the hireling 
 is tempted to eye-service ; the solitary worker for himself is apt to 
 become disheartened ; but men working for themselves, in groups, 
 will find labor not less attractive than profitable. Moral offenses 
 will be punished by legal enactment, and they will bo rendered ua 
 frequent by plenty and education. 
 
 H. J. Eaymond. Dec. 8th. Oh — then the men of capital are to 
 own the land, are they? Let us see. A man with money enough 
 may buy an entire domain of five thousand acres; men without 
 money will cultivate it on condition of receiving a tixed proportion 
 of its products ; the major part, says the Tribune ; suppose we say 
 three-fourths. Then the contract is simply this: — One rich man 
 (or company) owns Jive thousand acres of land, which he leases forever 
 to two thousand poor men at the yearly rent of one-fourth of its 
 products. It is an aftair of landlord and tenant — the lease perpet- 
 ual, payment in kind; and the landlord to own the cattle, tools, 
 and furniture of the tenant, as well as the land. Association, then, 
 is merely a plan for extending the relation of landlord aud tenant 
 over the whole arable surface of the earth. 
 
 Horace Greeley. Dec. 10th. By no means. The capital of a 
 mature association would be, perhaps, half a million of dollai^s; it 
 
210 THE xraBUNE and fourierism. 
 
 an infant assoo'ation, fifty thousand dollars; and this increase of 
 value would be both created and owned by Labor. In an ordinary 
 township, however, the increase, though all created by Labor, ia 
 chiefly owned by Capital. Tlie majority of the inhabitants remain 
 poor; while a few — merchants, laud-owners, mill-owners, and manu- 
 facturers — are enriched. That tiiis is the fact in recently-settled 
 townships, is undeniable. That it would not be the fact in a town- 
 ship settled and cultivated on the principle of association, seems to 
 me equally so. 
 
 H. J. Raymond. Dec 14</i. But not to me. Suppose fifty men 
 furnish fifty thousand dollars for an association upon which a hun- 
 dred and fifty others are to labor and to live. With that sum tliey 
 buy the land, build the houses, and procure everything needful for 
 the start. The capitalists, bear in mind, are the absolute owners of 
 the entire property of the association. In twenty years, that prop- 
 erty may be worth half a million, and it still remains the property 
 of the capitalists, the laborers having annually drawn their share of 
 the products. They may have saved a portion of their annual 
 share, and thus have accumulated property; but they have no more 
 title to the domain than they had at first. If the concern should 
 not prosper, the laborers could not buy shares ; if it should, the 
 capitalists would not sell except at their increased value. What 
 advantage, then, does association ofier for the poor man's acquiring 
 property superior to that aiforded by tlie present state of tilings? 
 None, that we can see. On the contrary, tlie more rapidly the 
 domain of an association should increase in value, the more difficult 
 it would be for the laboring man to rise to the class of proprietors ; 
 and this would simply be an aggravation of the worst features of 
 the social system. And how you associationists would quarrel ! The 
 skillful would be ever grumbling at the awkward, and the lazy would 
 shirk tlieir share of the work, but clamor for their share of the 
 product. There would be ten occasions for bickerings where now 
 there is one. The fancies of the associationist, in fact, are as base- 
 less, though not as beautiful, as More's Utopia, or the Happy Valley 
 of Rasselas. 
 
 Horace Greeley . Dec. IQth. '^o, Sir / In association, those who 
 
ABSTRACT OF THE DISCUSSION. 211 
 
 furnish the original capital arc the owners merely of so mvch stocTs 
 in the concern — not of all the land and other property, as you repre- 
 sent. Suppose tliat capital to he fifty thousand dollars. At tlio end 
 of the first year it is found that twenty-five thousand dollars have 
 been added to the value of the property by Labor. For tliis amount 
 new stock is issued, which is apportioned to Capital, Labor and Skill 
 as impartial justice shall dictate — to the non-resident capitalist a 
 certain proportion ; to the working capitalist the same propoi-tion, 
 plus the excess of his earnings over his expenses; to the laborer 
 that excess only. The apportionment is repeated every year ; and 
 the proportion of the new stock assigned to Oa[)ital is sucli that 
 when the property of the association is worth half a million, Capi- 
 tal will own about one-fifth of it. "With regard to the practical 
 working of association, I point you to the fact that association and 
 civilization are one. They advance and recede together. In this 
 age we have large steamboats, monster hotels, insurance, partner- 
 ehips, joint stock companies, public schools, libraries, police. Odd 
 Fellowship — all of which are exemplifications of the idea upon 
 which association is based ; all of Avhich work well as institutions, 
 and are productive of incalculable benefits to mankind. 
 
 H. J. Raymond. Dec. IWi. Of course; — but association as- 
 sumes to shape and govern the details of social llfe.^ which is a very 
 different affair. One '■group,'' it appears, is to do all the cooking, 
 another the gardening, another the ploughing. But suppose that 
 some who want to bo cooks are enrolled in the gardening group. 
 They will naturally sneer at the dishes cooked by their rivals, per- 
 haps form a party for the expulsion of the cooks, and so bring about 
 a kitchen war. Then, who will consent to be a member of the 
 boot-blacking, ditch-digging and sink-cleaning groups? Such labors 
 must be done, and groups must be detailed to do them. Then, who 
 is to settle the wages question ? Who is to determine upon the com- 
 parative efficiency of each laborer, and settle the comparative value 
 of his work? There is the religious difficulty too, and the educa- 
 tional difficulty, the medical difliculty, and numberless other diffi- 
 culties, arising from differences of opinion, so radical and so earnest- 
 ly entertained as to preclude the possibility of a large number of 
 
212 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 
 
 persons living together in the intimate relation contemplated bj 
 association. 
 
 Horcce Greeley. Dec. 2Qth. Not so fast. After the first steam- 
 sliip hivl crossed the Atlantic all the demonstrations of the impos- 
 sibility of that fact fell to the ground. Now, with regard to as- 
 sociations, the first steamship has crossed! The communities of 
 Zoar and Rapp iiave existed from twenty to forty years, and several 
 associations of the kind advocated by me have survived from two 
 to five years, not only without being broken up by the difficulties 
 alluded to, but without their presenting themselves in the light of 
 difficulties at all. No inter-kitclien war has disturbed tlieir peace, 
 no religious differences have marred their harmony, and men have 
 been found willing to perform ungrateful offices, required by the 
 general good. Passing over your objections, therefore, I beg yon 
 to consider the enormous difficulties, tiie wrongs, the waste, tlie mis- 
 ery, occasioned by and inseparable from society as it is now organ- 
 ized. For example, the coming on of winter contracts business and 
 throws thousands out of emi)loyment. They and their families suf- 
 fer, the dealers who supply tliem are losers in custom, the alms- 
 house is crowded, private charity is taxed to the extreme, many die 
 of diseases induced by destitution, some are driven by despair to 
 intoxication ; and all this, while every ox and horse is well fed and 
 cared for, while there is inaccessible plenty all around, while capi- 
 tal is luxuriating on the products of tlie very labor which is now pal- 
 sied and suffering. Under tlie present system, capital is everything, 
 man nothing, except as a means of accumulating capital. Capital 
 founds a factory, and for the single purpose of increasing capital, 
 taking no tliought of the human beings by whom it is increased. 
 The fundamental ideas of association, on the other hand, is to effect 
 a just distribution of products among capital, talent and labor. 
 
 H. J. Raymond. Jan. 6th. The idea may be good enough ; 
 but the means are impracticable ; the details are absurd, if not in- 
 humane and impious. The Tribune's admission, that an association 
 of indolent or covetous persons could not endure toithout a inoi-al 
 transformation of its memiers,seems to us fatal to the wliole theory 
 of association. It implies that individual reform must precede so 
 
ABSTRACT OF THE DISCUSSION, 213 
 
 swZ reform, which is precisely our position. But hotv «« individual 
 reform to be effected? By association^ says the Tribune. That is, 
 the motion of the water-wlieel is to p7yduce the water b} which 
 alone it can be set in motion — the action of the watch is to pro- 
 duce the main-spring without whicli it cannot move. Absurd. 
 
 Horace Oreeley. Jan. l^th. Incorrigible mis-stater of my posi- 
 tions! I am as well aware as you are tliat the mass of the igno- 
 rant and destitute arc, at present, incapable of so much as under- 
 standing the social order I propose, much less of becoming efficient 
 members of an association. What I say is, let those who are capa- 
 ole of understanding and promoting it, begin the work, found asso- 
 ciations, and shoic the rest of mankind how to live and thrive in 
 harmonious industry. You tell tne tliat the sole efficient agency of 
 Social Reform is Christianity. I answer that association is Oliris- 
 tianity ; and the dislocation noio existing between capital and labor, 
 between the capitalist and the laborer, is as atheistic as it is in- 
 human. 
 
 H. J. Raymond. Jan. 20th. Stop a moment. The test of true 
 benevolence is practice, not preaching; and we have no hesitation 
 in saying that the members of any one of our city churches do 
 more every year for the practical relief of poverty and suffering 
 than any phalanx that ever existed. There are in our midst hun- 
 dreds of female sewing societies, each of which clothes more naked- 
 ness and feeds more hunger, tlian any ' association ' that ever was 
 formed. There is a single individual in this city whom the Tribune 
 has vilified as a selfish, grasping despiser of tlie poor, who has ex- 
 pended more money in providing the poor with food, clotliing,'e\lu- 
 cuation, sound instruction in morals and religion, than all tiie advo- 
 cates of association in half a century. While association has been 
 tJieorizing about starvation, Cliristianity has been preventing it. 
 Associationists tell us, that giving to the poor deepens the evil 
 which it aims to relieve, and tliat the bounty of the benevolent, as 
 eocicty is now organized, is very often abused. We assure them, it 
 is not the social system which abuses the bounty of the benevolent ; 
 it is simply the dioivcnesty and indolence of individuals, and they 
 would do the same under any system, and especially in associatioa, 
 
214 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 
 
 Horace Greeley. Jan. 29^7(. Private benevolence is good and 
 necessary ; the Tribune lias ever been its cordial and earnest ad- 
 vocate. But benevolence relieves only the effects of poverty, while 
 A-ssociation proposes to reach and finally eradicate its causes. The 
 charitable are doing nobly this winter for the reMef of the destitute ; 
 but will there be in this city next winter fewer objects of charity 
 than there are now ? And let me tell yon, sir, if you do not know 
 it already, that the advocates of association, in proportion to their 
 number, and their means, are, at least, as active and as ready in 
 feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, as any class in the com- 
 munity. Make the examinations as close as you please, bring it as 
 near home as you like, and you will find the fact to be as I have 
 asserted. 
 
 H. J. Raymond. Feb. \Otli. You overlook one main objection. 
 Association aims, not merely to re-organize Labor, but to revolu- 
 tionize Society, to change radically Laws, Government, Manners 
 and Religion. It pretends to be a new Social Science, discovered 
 by Fourier. In our next article we shall show what its principles 
 are, and point out their inevitable tendency. 
 
 Horace Greeley. Feb. \*Jtli. Do so. Meanwhile let me remind 
 you, that there is need of a new Social System, when the old one 
 works so villanously and waslefiilly. There is Ireland, with three 
 hundred thousand able-bodied men, willing to work, yet unem- 
 ployed. Their labor is wortli forty-five millions of dollars a year, 
 which they need, and Ireland needs, but which the present Social 
 System dooms to waste. There is work enough in Ireland to do, 
 and men enough willing to do it ; but the spell of a vicious Social 
 System broods over the island, and keeps tlie woikmen and the 
 work apart. Four centuries ago, the English laborer could earn 
 by his labor a good and sufficient subsistence for his family. Since 
 that time Labor and Talent have made England rich ' beyond the 
 dreams of avarice ;' and, at this day, the Laborer, as a rule, cannot, 
 by unremitting toil, fully supply the necessities of his family. His 
 bread is coarse, his clothing scanty, his home a hovel, his childrer 
 uninstructed, his life cheerless. He lives from hand to mouth ir 
 abject terror of the poor-house, where, he shudders to think, he 
 
ABSTRACT OF THE DISCUSSION. 215 
 
 must end liis days. Precisely the panic causes are in operation 
 here, and, in duo time, ■will produce precisely the same effects. 
 There is need of a Social Re-formation ! 
 
 H. J. Raymond. March Zcl. You are mistaken. The state- 
 ■^lent that the laborers of the present day arc worse off than those 
 of former ages, has been exploded. They are not. On tlic contrary. 
 their condition is l>etter iu every i-espect. Evils under the present 
 Social System exist, great evils — evils, for the removal of whicL 
 the most constant and zealous efforts ought to be made ; yet t^iey 
 are very tar from being as great or as general as the Associationists 
 assert. The fact is indisputable, that, as a rule throughout the 
 country, no honest man, able and willing to work, need stand idle 
 from lack of opportunity. The exceptions to tiiis rule are com- 
 paratively few, and arise from temporary and local causes. But we 
 proceed to examine the fundamental principle of the Social System 
 proposed to be substituted for that now established. In one word, 
 that principle is Self-indulgence ! " Reason and Passion," writes 
 Parke Godwin, the author of one of the clearest expositions of So- 
 cialism yet published, " will be in perfect accord : duty and })leas- 
 ure will have the same meaning; without inconvenience or calcu- 
 lation, man willfollmD his hent : hearing only of Attraction, he will 
 never act from necessity, and never curl himself ly restraints.^'' 
 What becomes of the self-denial so expressly, so frequently, so em- 
 phatically enjoined by the New Testament? Fourierism and Chris- 
 tianity, Fourierism and Morality, Fourierism and Conjugal Constancy 
 are in palpable hostility ! We are told, that if a man has a passion 
 for a dozen kinds of work, he joins a dozen groups ; if iov a dozen 
 kinds of study, he joins a dozen groups ; and, if for a dozen women, 
 the System requires that there must be a dozen different groups for 
 liis full gratification ! For man will follow his Jeni, and never curb 
 himself by restraints ! 
 
 Horace Greeley. March 12t7i. Not so. I re-assert Avh at I before 
 proved, that the English laborers of to-day are worse olf than those 
 of former centuries; and I deny with disgust and indignation that 
 there is in Socialism, as American Socialists understand and teach it, 
 any provision or license for the gratification of criminal passions or 
 
216 THE TRIBUNE AND FOURIERISM. 
 
 nnlawfnl desires. Why not quote Mr. Godwin fully and fairly? 
 "Wliy suppress his remark, that, " So long as the Passions may 
 bring forth Disorder — so long as Inclination may be in opposition 
 to Duty — we reprobate as strongly as any class of men all indulg- 
 ence of the inclinations and feelings ; and where Reason is unable 
 to guide them, have no objection to other means" ? Socialists know 
 nothing of Groups, organized, or to bo organized, for the perpetra- 
 tion of crimes, or the practice of vices. 
 
 H. J. Enymonil. March Idth. Perhaps not. But I know, from 
 the writings of leading Socialists, that the law of Passional Attrac- 
 tion, i. e. Self-indulgence, is the essential and fundamental principle 
 of Association ; and that, while Christianity pronounces the- free 
 and full gratification of the passions a crime^ Socialism extols it as 
 a virtue. 
 
 Horace G-reeley. March Idth. Impertinent. Your articles are all 
 entitled " The Socialism of the Tribune examined" ; and the Tri- 
 bune has never contained a line to justify your unfair inferences 
 from garbled quotations from the writings of Godwin and Fourier, 
 What the Tribune advocates is, simply and solely, such an organiza- 
 tion of Society as will secure to every man the opportunity of unin- 
 terrupted and profitable labor, and to every child nourishment and 
 culture. These things, it is undeniable, the present Social System 
 4oes not secure ; and hence the necessity of a new and better organ- 
 ization. So no more of your ' Passional Attraction.' 
 
 E. J. Raymond. April IWh. I tell you the scheme of Fourier is 
 essentially and fundamentally irreligioxts ! by which I mean that it 
 (Ides not follow my Catechism, and apparently ignores the Thirty- 
 Nine Articles. Shocking. 
 
 Horace Greeley., April 28th. Humph 1 
 
 JT. J. Raymond. May 20th. The Tribune is doing a great deal of 
 harm. The editor docs not know it — but it is. 
 
 Thus ended Fourierism. Thenceforth, the Tribune alluded to thu 
 
THE tribune's fiKOOND TEAR. 217 
 
 enbject occasionally, but ooly in reply to those avIio sought to make 
 political or personal capital by reviving it. By its discussion of the 
 subject it rendered a great service to the country : first, by afford- 
 ing one more proof that, for the ills that flesh is heir to, there is, 
 there can be, no panacea ; secondly, by exhibiting the economy of 
 association, and familiarizing the public mind with the idea of asso- 
 ciation — an idea susceptible of a thousand applications, and capable, 
 in a thousand ways, of alleviating and preventing human woes. 
 We see its perfect triumph in Insurance, whereby a loss which 
 would crush an individual falls upon the whole company of insur- 
 ers, lightly and unperceived. Future ages will witness its success- 
 ful application to most of the affairs of life. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE tribune's SECOND YEAR. 
 
 Increase of price— The Tribune oflTcnds the Sixth Ward fighting-men— The office threat- 
 ened—Novel preparations for defense — Charles Uickens defended — The Editor 
 travels— Visits Washington, and sketches the Senators— Al Mount Vernon— At 
 Niagara — A hard hit at Major Noah. 
 
 The Tribune, as we have seen, was started as a penny paper. It 
 began its second volume, on the eleventh of April, 1842, at the in- 
 creased price of nine cents a week, or two cents for a single num- 
 oer, and effected this serious advance without losing two hundred 
 s)f its twelve thousand subscribers. At the same time, Messrs. Gree- 
 ley and McElrath started the ' American Laborer,' a monthly maga- 
 rine, devoted chiefly to the advocacy of Protection. It was pub- 
 lished at seventy-five cents for the twelve numbers which the pros- 
 pectus announced. 
 
 When it was remarked, a few pages back, that the word with the 
 Tribune was Fight, no allusion was intended to the use of carnal 
 weapons. "The pen is mightier than the sword," claptraps Bulwer 
 in one of his plays ; and the Pen was the only fighting implement 
 
 10 
 
218 THE tribune's second year. 
 
 referred to. It came to pass, however,, in the first month of the 
 Tribune's second year, that the pointed nib of the warhke journal 
 gave deadly umbrage to certain lighting men of tlie Sixth Ward, by 
 exposing their riotous conduct on the day of the Spring elections. 
 Tlie office was, in consequence, tln-eatened by the oflfended parties 
 witli a nocturnal visit, and the ofiice, alive to the duty of hospital- 
 ity, ])repared to give the expected guests a suitable reception by 
 arming itself to the chimneys. 
 
 This (I believe) was one of the paragraphs deemed most offen- 
 sive : 
 
 " It appears (hat somo of the ' Spartan Band,' headed by Michael Walsh, 
 after a fight in the 'Ith District of the Sixth Ward, paraded up Centre street, 
 opposite tlie Halls of Justice, to the neighborhood of the poll of the 3d Dis- 
 trict, wliere, after marching and counter-marching, the leader Walsh re-com- 
 menced the work of violence by knocking down an unoffending individual, who 
 was following near hiin. This was the signal fur a general attack of this band 
 upon the Irish population, who were knocked down in every direction, until the 
 street was literally strewed with their prostrate bodies. After this demonstra- 
 tion of ' Spartan valor,' the Irish fled, and the band moved on to another poll 
 to re-enact their deeds of violence. In the interim the Irish proceeded to rally 
 their forces, and, armed with sticks of cord-wood and clubs, paraded through 
 Centre street, about 300 strong, attacking indiscriminately and knocking down 
 nearly all who came in their way— some of their victims, bruised and bloody, 
 having to be carried into the Police Office and the prison, to protect them from 
 being murdered. A portion of the Irish then dispersed, while another portion 
 proceeded to a house in Orange street, which they attacked and riddled from 
 top to bottom. He-uniting their scattered forces, the Irish bands again, with 
 increased numbers, marched up Centre street, driving all before them, and 
 when near the Halls of Justice, the cry was raised, ' Americans, stand firm 1' 
 when a body of nearly a thousand voters surrounded the Irish bands, knocked 
 them down, and beat them without mercy— while some of the fallen Irishmen 
 were with difficulty rescued from the violence that would have destroyed 
 them, had they not been hurried into the Police Office and prison as a place of 
 refuge. In this encounter, or the one that preceded it, a man named Ford, 
 and said tc be one of the ' Spartans,' was carried into the Police Office beaten 
 almost to death, and was subsequently transferred to the Hospital." 
 
 On the morning of the day on which tliis appeared, two gentle- 
 men, more muscular than civil, called at the ofiice to say, that the 
 Tribune's account of the riot was incorrect, and did injustice to 
 
THE OFFICE THREATENED. 219 
 
 indivuluals, wlio expected to sec a retraction ou the following day. 
 No retraction aijpeared on the following day, hut, on the contrary, 
 a fuller and more emphatic repetition of the charge. The next 
 morning, the office was favored by a second visit from the muscular 
 gentlemen. One of them seized a clerk by the Blioulder, and re- 
 quested to be informed whether he was the offspring of a female 
 dog who had put tliat into tlie paper, pointing to the offensive arti- 
 cle. The clerk protested his innocence; and the men of muscle 
 swore, that, ichoever put it in, if the next paper did not do them jus- 
 tice, the Bloody Sixth would come down and 'smash the office.' 
 The Tribune of the next day contained a complete history of the 
 riot, and denounced its promoters with more vehemence than on 
 the days preceding. The Bloody Sixth was ascertained to be in a 
 ferment, and the office prepared itself for defense. 
 
 One of the compositors was a member of the City Guard, and 
 through his interest, the muskets of that admired company of citi- 
 zen-soldiers were procured; as soon as the evening shades pre- 
 vailed, they were conveyed to the office, and distributed among 
 the men. One of the muskets was placed near the desk of the Ed- 
 itor, who looked up from his writing and said, he 'guessed they 
 would n't come down,' and resumed his work. The foreman of the 
 press-room in the basement caused a pipe to be conveyed from the 
 safety valve of the boiler to the steps that led up to the sidewalk. 
 The men in the Herald office, near by, made common cause, for 
 this occasion only, with their foemen of the Tribune, and agreed, 
 on the first alarm, to rush through the sky-light to the flat roof, and 
 rain down on the heads of the Bloody Sixth a shower of brick-bats 
 to be procured from the surrounding chimneys. It was thought, 
 that what with volleys of musketry from the upper windows, a 
 storm of bricks from the roof, and a blast of hot steam from the 
 cellar, the Bloody Sixth would soon have enough of smashing the 
 Tribune office. The men of the allied offices waited for the expect- 
 ed assault with the most eager desire. At twelve o'clock, the part- 
 ners made a tour of inspection, and expressed their perfect satisfac- 
 tion with all the arrangements. But, unfortunately for the story, 
 the night wore away, the paper went to press, morning dawned, 
 and yet the Bloody Sixth had not appeared! Either the Bloody 
 Bixth had thought better of it, or the men of muscle had hac' no 
 
220 THE tribune's second year. 
 
 right to speak in its awful name. From whatever cause — these 
 masterly preparations were made in vain ; and the Tribnne went on 
 its belligerent way, unsraashed. For some weeks, *it kept at' the 
 election frauds, and made a complete exp„sure of the guilty persons. 
 
 Let us glance hastily over the rest of the volume. 
 
 It was the year of Charles Dickeus' visit to the United States. 
 The Tribune ridiculed the extravagant and unsuitable honors paid 
 to the amiable novelist, but spoke strongly in favor of international 
 copyright, which Mr. Dickeus made it his ' mission ' to advocate. 
 TVhen the ' American Xotes for General Circulation ' ai)peared, tho 
 Tribune was one of the few papers that gave it a 'favorable notice.' 
 *'We have read the hook," said the Tribune, "very carefully, and 
 we are forced to say, in the face of all this stormy denunciation, 
 that, so far as its tone toward this country is concerned, it is one 
 of the very best zcat'ks of its class tee have ever seen. Tliere is not 
 a sentence it which seems to have sprung from ill-nature or con- 
 tempt; not a word of censure is uttered for its own sake or in 
 a fault-finding spirit ; the whole is a calm, judicious, gentlemanly, 
 unexceptionable record of what the writer saw — and a candid and 
 correct judgment of its worth and its detects. How a writer could 
 look upon the broadly-blazoned and applauded slanders of his own 
 land which abound in this — how he could run thi'ough tho pages of 
 Lestee's book — filled to the margin with the grossest, most un- 
 founded and illiberal assaults upon all the institutions and the social 
 phases of Great Britain — and then write so calmly of this country, 
 with so manifest a freedom from passion and prejudice, as Dick- 
 ens has done, is to us no slight marvel. That he has done it is 
 infinitely to his credit, and confirms us in tho opinion we had long 
 since formed of the soundness of his head and the goodness of his 
 heart." 
 
 In the summer of 1842, Mr. Greeley made an extensive tour, visit- 
 ing "Washington, Mount Vernon, Poultney, Westhaven, London- 
 derry, Niagara, and the home of his parents in Pennsylvania, from 
 all of which he wrote letters to the Tribune. His letters from 
 "Washington, entitled ' Glances at the Senate,' gave agreeable 
 sketches of Calhoun, Preston, Benton, Evans, Crittenden, "Wright, 
 and others. Silas "Wright ho thought the 'keenest logician in tho 
 Senate,' the 'Ajax o' plausibility,' the 'Talleyrand of the forum.' 
 
VISITS NIAGARA. 221 
 
 Calhoun he descriled as the 'coinpactest speaker' in the Senate; 
 Preston, as the 'most forcible declaimer ;' Evans, as tlie ' most dex- 
 terous and diligent legislator;' Benton, as an individual, "gross and 
 burly in person, of countenance most unintellectiial, in manner pom- 
 pous and inflated, in matter empty, in conceit a giant, in influence 
 a cipher !" 
 
 From Mount Vernon, Mr. Greeley wrote an interesting letter, 
 chiefly descriptive. It concluded thus: — "Slowly, pensively, we 
 turned our faces from the rest of the mighty dead to the turmoil of 
 the restless living — from the solenm, sublime repose of Mount Ver- 
 non to the ceaseless inirigues, the petty strifes, the ant-liill hustle of 
 the Federal City. Each has its own atmosphere ; London and 
 Mecca are not so unlike as they. Tlie silent, enshrouding woods, 
 the gleaming, majestic river, the bright, benignant sky — it is fitly 
 here, amid the scenes he loved and hallowed, tliat the man whoso 
 life and character have redeemed Patriotism and Liberty from the 
 reproach whicli centuries of designing knavery and hollow profess- 
 ion nad cast upon them, now calmly awaits the trump of the arch- 
 angel. Who does not rejoice that the original design of removing 
 his ashes to the city has never been consummated — that they lie 
 where the pilgrim may reverently api)roach them, unvexed by the 
 '.ight laugh of the time-killing worldling, unnnnoyed by the vain or 
 vile scribblings of the thoughtless or the base? Thus may they 
 repose forever ! that the heart of the patriot may be invigorated, 
 tlie hopes of the philanthropist strengthened and his aims exalted, 
 the pulse of the American quickened and Jus aspirations purified by 
 a visit to Mount Vernon !" 
 
 From Niagara, the traveller wrote a letter to Graham's Magazine: 
 
 " Yearp," said he, ' though not many, have weighed upon me since first, in 
 boyhood, I gazed from the deck of a canal boat upon the distant cloud of white 
 vapor which mnrked the position of the world a great cataract, and listened to 
 catch the rumbling of its deep thunders. Cirouinstances did not then permit me 
 to gratify my strong desire of visiting it ; and now, when I am tempted to won- 
 der at the stolidity of those who live within a day's journey, yet live on 
 through half a century without one glance at the mighty torrent, I am 
 checked by the reflection that I myself passed within a dozen miles of it no 
 less than five tim^s before I was able to enjoy its magnificence. The propi- 
 tious hour cam<» at last, however ; and, after a disappointed gaze from the 
 
222 THE tribune's second tear. 
 
 upper terrace on the British side, (in which I half feared that the sheet of 
 broken and boiling water above was all the cataract that existed,) and rapid 
 tortuous descent by the woody declivity, I stood at length on Table Rock, and 
 the whole immensity of the tremendous avalanche of waters burst at once on 
 my arrested vision, while awe struggled with amazement for the mastery of 
 my soul. 
 
 " This was late in October ; I have twice visited the scene amid the freshness 
 and beauty of June ; but I think the late Autumn is by far the better season. 
 There is then a sternness in the sky, a plaintive melancholy in the sighing of 
 the wind through the mottled forest foliage, which harmonizes better v.ith the 
 spirit of the scene; for the Genius of Niagara, friend! is never a laughter- 
 loving spirit. For the gaudy vanitie.', the petty pomps, the light follies of the 
 hour, he has small sympathy. Let not the giddy heir bring hero his ingots, 
 the selfish aspirant his ambition, the libertine his victim, and hope to find 
 enjoj'ment and gaiety in the presence. Let none come here to nurse his pride, 
 or avarice, or any other low desire. God and His handiwork here stand forth 
 in lone sublimity ; and all the petty doings and darings of the ants at the 
 base of the pyramid appear in their proper insignificance. Few can have 
 visited Niagara and left it no humbler, no graver than they came." 
 
 Ou liis return to tlio city, Horace Greeley subsided, with curious 
 abruptness, into the editor ot the Tribune. This note appears on 
 the morning after his arrival : 
 
 "The senior editor of this paper has returned to his post, after an absence 
 of four weeks, during which he has visited nearly one half of the counties of 
 this State, and passed through portions of Pennsylvania, Vermont, Massachu- 
 setts, etc. During this time he has written little for the Tribune save the 
 casual and hasty letters to which his initials were subscribed ; but it need 
 hardly bo said that the general course and conduct of the paper have been the 
 same as if ho had been at his post. 
 
 " Two deductions only from the observations he has made and the information 
 he has gathered during his tour, will here be given. They are these : 
 
 " 1. The cause of Protection to Home Industry is much stronger throughout 
 this and the adjoining States than even the great party which mainly up- 
 holds it; and nothing will so much tend to ensure the election of Henry Clay 
 next President as the veto of an eflficicnt Tariff" bill by John Tyler. 
 
 " 2. The strength of the Whig party is unbroken by recent disasters and 
 treachery, and only needs the proper opportunity tu manifest itsolf in all the 
 energy and power of 1840. If a distinct and unequivocal issue can be made 
 upon the great leading questions at issue between the rival parties — on Pro- 
 tection to Home Industry and Internal Improvement — ti^o Whig asoondenc/ 
 will be triumphantly vindicated in the coming electipu." 
 
A HARD HIT AT MAJOU NOAH. 223 
 
 1 need not (l\vc-]l on the politics of that j-ear. For Protection— 
 for Clay— Jiguirist Tyler — against his vetoes — for a law to punish se 
 duction — ag.'iiiist capital piniishnient — imagine countless cohniins. 
 
 In October, died Dr. Channing. " Deeply," wrote Mr. Greeley, 
 "do we deplore his loss, most untimely, to the faithless eye of man 
 does it seem — to the cause of truth, of order and of right, and still 
 morft deeply do we lament that he has left behind him, in the same 
 department of exertion, so few, in proportion to the number needed, 
 to supply the loss occasioned by his death." Soon after, the Tri- 
 bune gave Theodore Parker a hearing by publishing sketches of his 
 lectures. 
 
 An affair of a personal nature made considerable noise about tiiis 
 time, which is wortii alluding to, for several reasons. Major Noah, 
 then the editor of the ' Union,' a Tylerite paper of small circula- 
 tion and irritable tem[)er, was much addicted to attacks on the Tri- 
 bune. On this occasion, he was unlucky enough to publish a ri- 
 diculous story, to the effect that Horace Greeley had taken his 
 breakfast in company with two colored men at a boarding-Iiouse in 
 Barclay street. Tlie story was eagerly copied by the enemies of the 
 Tribune, and at length Horace Greeley condescended to notice it. 
 The point of his most happy and annihilating reply is contained in 
 these, its closing sentences: "We have never associated with 
 blacks; never eaten with them ; and yet it is quite probable that if 
 we had seen two cleanly, decent colored persons sitting down at a 
 second table in another room just as we were finishing our break- 
 fast, we might have gone away without thinking or caring about 
 the matter. We choose our own com[)any in all things, and that 
 of our own race, but cherish little of that spirit which for eighteen 
 centuries lias held the kindred of M. M. Noah accursed of (iod and 
 man, outlawed and outcast, and unfit to be the associates of Chris- 
 tians, Mussulmen, or even self-respecting Pagans. Where there are 
 thousands who would not eat with a negro, there are (or lately 
 were) tens of thousands who would not eat with u Jew. We kavo 
 to such renegadee as the Judge of Israel the stirring up of prejudices 
 and the prating of ' usages of society,' which over half the world 
 make him an abhorrence, as they not long since would have done 
 here; we treat all men according to what they are and not 
 whence they spring. That he is a knave, we think much to his dis- 
 
224 THE TRIBUNE AND J. FENIMORE COOPElt. 
 
 credit ; that lie is a Jew iiotliing, however unfortunate it may be 
 for tliat luckless people." This was a hit not more liard than fair. 
 The ' Judge of Israel,' it is said, felt it acutely. 
 
 The Tribune continued to i)rosper. It ended the second volume 
 with a circulation of twenty thousand, and an advertising patron- 
 age so extensive as to compel the issue of frequent supplements. 
 The position of its chief editor grew in importance. His advice and 
 co-operation were sought by so many persons and for so many ob- 
 jects, that li« was obliged to keep a notice standing, which request- 
 ed "all who would see him personally in his office, to call between 
 the hours of 8 and 9 A. M., and 5 and G P. M., unless the most im- 
 perative necessity dictate a diiferent hour. If this notice be dis- 
 regarded, he will be compelled to abandon his office and seek else- 
 where a chance for an hour's uninterrupted devotion to his daily 
 duties." 
 
 His first set lecture in New York is thus announced, January 
 3d, 1843: "Horace Greeley will lecture before the New York Ly- 
 ceum at the Tabernacle, this evening. Subject, ' Human Life.' The 
 lecture will commence at half past 7, precisely. If those who care 
 to bear it will sit near the desk, they will favor the lecturer's weak 
 and husky voice." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE TRIBUNE AND J. FENIMORE COOPER. 
 
 The libel — Horace Greeley's narrative of the trial— He renews the openinK 8peech of 
 Mr. Cooper's ctninsel — A slriliing illustration — He addresses the jury— Air. Cooper 
 sums up — Horace Orceloy comments on the speech of the novelist — In doing so he 
 perpetrates new lil)els— The verdict — Mr. Greeley's remarks on the same- Strikes 
 a bee-line for New York — A new suit — An imaginary case. 
 
 A MAN is never so characteristic as when he sports. There was 
 something in the warfare waged by the author of the Leatherstock- 
 ing against the press, and particularly in his suit of the Tribune for 
 libel, that appealed so strongly to Horace Greeley's sense of tlie 
 
THE LIBEL ON J. FENIMORE COOPER. iiiiO 
 
 comic, that he seldom alUided to it without, apparently, falling into 
 a paroxysm of mirth. Some of his most humorous passages were 
 written in connection with what he called ' the Cooperage of the 
 Trihune.' To that affair, therefore, it is jiroper tluit a short chapter 
 should be devoted, before pursuing further the History of the 
 Tribune. 
 
 The matter alleged to be libelous ai)peared in the Tribune, Nov. 
 J7th, 1841. The trial took place at Saratoga, Dec. 0th, 1842. Mr. 
 Greeley defended the suit in person, and, on returning to New York, 
 wrote a long and ludicrous account of the trial, which occupied 
 eleven columns and a quarter in the Tribune of Dec. 12th. For 
 that number of the paper there was such a demand, that the ac- 
 count of the trial was, soon after, re-published in a pauiplilet, of 
 which tills chapter will be little more than a condensation. 
 
 The libel — such as it was — the reader may lind lurking in the 
 folhnving epistle : 
 
 " MR. FENIMORE COOPER AND HIS LIBELS. 
 
 "Fonda, Nov. 17, 1841. 
 " To THE Editor of the Tribune : — 
 
 " The Circuit Court now sitting here is to bo occupied cliiefly with tho legal 
 griefs of Mr. Feniniorc Cooper, who has determined to avenge himself upon 
 the Press for having contributed by its criticisms to his waning popularity as 
 a novelist. 
 
 "The 'handsome Mr. Effingham' has three ca.ses of i.-:sue hero, two of which 
 are against Col. Webb, Editor of the Courier and Enquirer, and one against 
 Mr. AVeed, Editor of the Albany Evening Journal. 
 
 " Mr. Weed not appearing on Monday, (the first day of court,) Cooper mov- 
 ed for judgment by default, as Mr. Weed's counsel had not arrived. Col. 
 Webb, who on passing through Albany, called at Mr. Weed's house, and 
 learned that his wife was seriously and his daughter dangerously ill, request- 
 ed Mr. Sacia testate the facts to the Court, and a.sk a day's delay, Mr. Sacia 
 made, at tho same time, an appeal to Mr. Cooper's humanity. But that appeal, 
 of course, was an unavailing one. The novelist pushed his advantage. The 
 Court, however, ordered tho cause to go over till tho ne.xt day, with the un- 
 derstanding that tho default should bo entered then if Mr. AVced did not ap- 
 pear. Col. Webb then despatched a messenger to Mr. Weed with this infor- 
 mation. The messenger returned with a letter from Mr. Weed, stating that 
 his daughter lay very ill, and that ho would not leave her while she was suf 
 fering or in danger Mr. Cooper, therefore, immediately moved for his default. 
 Mr. Saeia interposed again for time, but it was denied. A jury was empan- 
 
 10* 
 
226 THE TRIDUNK AND J. FENIMORE COOPER. 
 
 eled to assess Mr. EBSngham's d.amages. The trial, of course, was ex-parte, 
 Mr. AVeed being absent and defenceless. Cooper's lawyer made a wordy, 
 windy, abusive appeal for exemplary damages. The jury retired, under a 
 strong charge against Mr. Weed from Judge Willard, and after remaining in 
 their room till twelve o'clock at night, sealed a verdict for $400 for Mr. EflBng- 
 ham, which was delivered to the Court this morning. 
 
 "This meager verdict, under the circumstanses, is a severe and mortifying 
 rebuke to Cooper, who had everything his own way. 
 
 "The value of Mr. Cooper's character, therefore, has been judicially ascer- 
 tained. 
 
 "It is worth exactly four hundred dollars. 
 
 "Col. AYebb's trial comes on this afternoon; hiscounsel, A. L. Jordan, Esq., 
 having just arrived in the up train. Cooper will be blown sky high. This 
 experiment upon the Editor of the Courier and Enquirer, I predict, will cure 
 the 'handsome Mr. Effingham' of his monomania for libels." 
 
 The rest of tlie story shall be given liere in Mr. Greeley's own 
 ■words. He begins the narrative tlius : — 
 
 " The responsible Editor of the Tribune returned yesterday morning from a 
 week's journey to and sojourn in the County of Saratoga, having been thereto 
 urgently persuaded by a Supreme Court writ, requiring him to answer to the 
 declaration of Mr. J. Fonimoro Cooper in an action for Libel. 
 
 " This suit was originally to have been tried at the May Circuit at Ballston ; 
 but neither Fenimore (who was then engaged in the Coopering of Col. Stone 
 of the Commercial) nor we had time to attend to it — so it went over to this 
 term, which opened at Ballston Spa en Monday, Dec. 5th. We arrived on 
 the ground at eleven o'clock of that day, and found the plaintiff and his 
 lawyers ready for us, our case No. 10 on the calendar, and of course a good 
 prospect of an early trial ; but an important case involving Water-rights came 
 in ahead of us (No. 8) taking two days, and it was half-past 10, A.M., of 
 Friday, before ours was reached — very fortunately for us, as we had no lawyer, 
 had never talked over the case with one, or made any preparation whatever, 
 save in thought, and had not even found time to read the papers pertaining 
 to it till we arrived at Ballston. 
 
 " The delay in reaching the case gave us time for all ; and that we did not 
 employ lawyers to aid in our conduct or defense proceeded from no want of 
 confidence in or deference to the many eminent members of the Bar there in 
 attendance, beside Mr. Cooper's three able counsel, but simply from the fact 
 that we wished to present to the Court some considerations which we thought 
 had been overlooked )r overborne in the recent Trials of the Press for Libel 
 before our Supreme and Circuit Courts, and which, since they appealed more 
 directly and forcibly to the experience of Editors than of Lawyers, we pre- 
 
THE OPENING SPEECH OF MR COOPEr's COUNSEL. 221 
 
 8umed an ordinary editor might present as plainly and fully as an able law- 
 j'cr. We wished to place before the Court and the country those views which 
 we understand the Press to maintain with us of its own position, duties, 
 responsibilities, and rights, as afifected by the practical construction given of 
 late years in this State to the Law of Libel, and its application to editors and 
 journals. Understanding that we could not appear both in person and by 
 counsel, we chose the former; though on trial we found our opponent was per- 
 mitted to do what we supposed we could not. So much by way of e.xplana- 
 tion to the many able and worthy lawyers in attendance on the Circuit, from 
 whom we received every kindness, who would doubtless have aided us most 
 cheerfully if we had required it, and would have conducted our case far more 
 skillfully than we either expected or cared to do. We had not apijeared there 
 to be saved from a verdict by any nice technicality or legal subtlety. 
 
 " The case was opened to the Court and Jury by Richard Cooper, nephew 
 and attorney of the plaintiff, in a speech of decided pertinence and force. 
 * * * Mr. R. Cooper has had much experience in this class of cases, and 
 is a young man of considerable talent. His manner is the only fault about 
 hira, being too elaborate and pompous, and his diction too bombastic to pro- 
 duce the best effect on an unsophisticated auditory. If he will only contrive 
 to correct this, he will yet make a figure at the Bar — or rather, he will make 
 less figure and do more execution. The force of his speech was marred by 
 Feuimore's continually interrupting to dictate and suggest to him ideas when 
 he would have done much better if left alone. For instance : Fenimore in- 
 structed him to say, that our letter from Fonda above recited purported to be 
 from the 'correspondent of the Tribune,' and thence to draw and press on the 
 Jury the inference that the letter was written by some of our own corps, whom 
 we had sent to Fonda to report these trials. This inference we were obliired 
 to repel in our reply, by showing that the article'plainly read 'correspondence 
 of the Tribune,' just as when a fire, a storm, or some other notable event 
 occurs in any part of the country or world, and a friend who happens to be 
 there, sits down and dispatches us a letter by the first mail to give us early 
 advices, though he has no connection with us but by subscription and good 
 will, and perhaps never wrote a line to us in his life till now. 
 
 " The next step in Mr. R. Cooper's opening : We had, to the Declaration 
 ne-ainst us, pleaded the General Issue— that is Not Guilty of libeling Mr. 
 Cooper, at the same time fully admitting that we had published all that he 
 ca//cd our libels on him, and desiring to put in issue only the fact of their 
 being or not being libels, and have the verdict turn on that issue. But Mr. 
 Cooper told the Jury (and we found, to our cost, that this was New York Su- 
 preme and Circuit Court law) that by pleading Not Guilty ifc had legally ad- 
 mitted ourselves to be Guilty— that all that was necessary for the plaintiff 
 under that plea was to put in our admission of publication, and then the Jurj 
 
228 THE TRIBUNE AND J. FENIMORE COOPEU. 
 
 had nothing to do but to assess the plaintiffs damages under the direction of 
 the Court. In short, we were made to understand that there was no way un- 
 der Heaven — we beg pardon ; under New York Supreme Court Law — in which 
 the editor of a newspaper could plead to an action for libel that the matter 
 charged upon him as libelous was not in its nature or intent a libel, but sim- 
 ply a statement, according to the best of his knowledge and belief, of some 
 notorious and every way public transaction, cr his own honest comments 
 thereon; and ask the Jury to decide whether tie plaintiff's averment or his 
 answers thereto be the truth ! To illustrate the beauties of 'the perfection 
 of human reason ' — always intending New York Circuit and Supreme Court 
 reason — on this subject, and to show the perfect soundness and pertinence of 
 Mr. Cooper's logic according to the decisions of these Courts, we will give an 
 example . 
 
 " Our police reporter, say thi.s evening, shall bring in on his chronicle of 
 daily occurrences the following : 
 
 " ' A hatchet-faced chap, with mouse-colored whiskers, who gave the name 
 of John Smith, was brought in by a watchman who found him lying drunk in 
 the gutter. After a suitable admonition from the Justice, and on payment of 
 the usual fine, he was discharged.' 
 
 "Now, our reporter, who, no more than we, ever before heard of this John 
 Smith, is only ambitious to do his duty correctly and thoroughly, to make his de- 
 scription accurate and graphic, and perhaps to protect better men who rejoice 
 in the cognomen of John Smith, from being confounded with this one iu the 
 popular rumor of his misadventure. If the paragraph should come under 
 our notice, we should probably strike it out altogether, as relating to a subject 
 of no public moment, and likely to crowd out better matter. But we do not 
 see it, and in it goes : "Well : John Smith, who ' acknowledges the corn ' as to 
 being accidentally drunk and getting into the watch-house, is not willing to 
 rest under the imputation of being hatchedfaced and having mouse-colored 
 whiskers, retains Mr. Richard Cooper — for he could not do better — and com- 
 mences an action for libel against us. We take the best legal advice, and are 
 told that We must demur to the Declaration — that is, go before a court without 
 jur}', where no fiicts can be shown, and maintain that the matter charged as 
 uttered by us is not libelous. But Mr. R. Cooper meets us there and says justly : 
 'How is the court to decide without evidence that this matter is not libelous? 
 If it was written and inserted for the express purpose of ridiculing and bring- 
 ing into contempt my client, it clearly is libelous. And then as to damages : 
 My client, is neither rich nor a great man, but his character, in his own circU, 
 is both dear and valuable to him. We shall be able to show on trial that he 
 was on the point of contracting marriage with the daughter of the keeper of 
 the most fashionable and lucrative 03'ster-cellar in Orange street, whose 
 nerves were so shocked at the idea of her intended having a ' hatchet face and 
 mouse-colored whiskers,' that she fainted outright on reading the paragraph 
 
THE OPENING SPEECH OF MR. COOPEr's COUNSEL. 229 
 
 (copied from your paper into the next day's 'Sun'), and was not brought to 
 until a whole bucket of oysters which she had just opened had been poured 
 over her in a hurried inist.ike for water. Since then, she has frequent relapses 
 and shuddering, especially when ray client's name is mentioned, and utterly 
 refuses to see or speak of him. The match is dead broke, and my client loses 
 thereby a capital home, where victuals are more plentiful and the supply more 
 steady than it has been his fortune to find them for the last year or two. He 
 loses, with all this, a prospective interest in the concern, and is left utterly 
 with(mt business or means of support e.Kcept this suit. Besides, how can you 
 tell, in the absence of all testimony, that the editor was not paid to in.sert thia 
 villanous description of my client, by some envious rival for the affections of 
 the oj'Ster-maid, who calculates both to gratify hi.s spite and advance his lately 
 hopeless wooing ? In that case, it certainly is a libel. Wc aflirm this to be 
 the case, and you are bound to presume that it is. The demurrer must bo 
 overruled.' And so it must be. No judge could decide otherwise. 
 
 " Now wc are thrown back upon a dilemma : Either we must plead Justifica- 
 tion, in which case we admit that our publication was on its face a libel ; and 
 now, woe to us if we cannot prove Mr. Cooper's client's face as sharp, and his 
 whi.^kers of the precise color as stated. A shade more or less ruins us. For, be 
 it known, by attempting a Justification we have not merely admitted our of- 
 fense to be a libel, but our plea is an aggravation of the libel, and entitles the 
 plaiutifif to recover higher and more exemplary damages. But we have just 
 one chance more : to plead the general issue — to wit, that we did not libel the 
 said John Smith, and go into court prepared to show that we had no malice 
 toward or intent to injure Mr. Smith, never heard of him before, and have done 
 all we knew how to make him reparation — in short, that we have done and in- 
 tended nothing which brings us fairly within the iron grasp of the law of libel. 
 But here again, while trying our best to get in somehow a plea of Not Guilty, 
 we have actually pleaded Guilty ! — so says the Supreme Court law of New 
 York — our admitted publication (no matter of what) concerning John Smith 
 proves irresistibly that we have libeled him — we are not entitled in any way 
 whatever to go to the Jury with evidence tending to show that our publication 
 is not a libel — or, in overthrow of the legal presumption of malice, to show 
 that there actually was none. All that wo possibly can offer must be taken 
 into account merely in mitigation of damages. Our hide is on the fence, you 
 660, any how. 
 
 " But to return to Richard's argument at Ballston. lie put verj* strongly 
 against us the fact that our Fonda correspondent (see Declaration .above) con- 
 sidered Fenimore's verdict there a meager one. ' Gentlemen of the jury,' said 
 ne, ' see how these editors rejoice and e.\ult when they get off with so light a 
 verdict as $400 ! They consider it a triumph over the law and the defendant 
 They don't con.sider that amount anything. If you mean to vindicate the Law? 
 and the character of my client, j'ou see yo» must give much more limn this.' 
 
230 THE TRIBUNE AND J. FENIMORE COOPER. 
 
 This was a good point, but not quite fair. The exultation over the ' meager 
 verdict' was expressly in view of the fact, that the cause was undefended — that 
 Fenimore and his counsel had it all their own way, evidence, argument, charge, 
 and all. Still, Richard had a good chance hero to appeal for a large verdict, 
 and ho did it well. 
 
 '■ On one other point Richard talked mure like a cheap lawyer and less like 
 a — like what we had expected of him — than through the general course of his 
 argument. In his pleadings, ho had set forth Horace Greeley and Thomas Mc- 
 Elrath as Editors and Proprietors of the Tribune, and we readily enough ad- 
 mitted what;ever he chose to assert about us except the essential thing in dis 
 pute between us. Well, on the strength of this he puts it to the Court and 
 Jury, that Thomas McElrath is ono of the Editors of the Tribune, and that 
 be, being (having been) a lawyer, would have been in Court to defend this 
 suit, if there was any valid defense to be made. This, of course, went very 
 hard against us ; and it was to no purpose that we informed him that Thomas 
 McElrath, though legally implicated in it, had nothing to do practically with 
 this matter — (all which he knew very well long before) — and that the other 
 defendant is the man who does whatever libeling is done in the Tribune, and 
 holds himself everywhere responsible for it. AVe presume there is not much 
 doubt even so far off as Cooporstown as to who edits the Tribune, and who 
 wrote the editorial about the Fonda business. (In point of fact, tho real and 
 palpable defendant in this suit never even conversed with his partner a quar- 
 ter of an hour altogether about this subject, considering it entirely his own 
 job ; and tho plaintiff himself, in conversation with Mr. JMcElrath, in the pres- 
 ence of his attorney, had fully exonerated Mr. M. from anything more than 
 legal liability.) But Richard was on his logs as a lawyer — he pointed to the 
 seal on his bond — and therefore insisted that Thomas McElrath was art and 
 part in the alleged libel, not only legally, but actually, and would have been 
 present to respond to it if he had deemed it susceptible of defense ! As a 
 lawyer, we suppose this was right ; but, as an Editor and a man, wo could not 
 have done it." 
 
 ' Kicluird' gave way, and ' Horace' addressed the jury in a speecli 
 of fifty minutes, Avhich need not be inserted here, because all its 
 leading ideas are contained in tlie narrative. It was a convincing 
 argument, so far as the reason and justice of the case were concern- 
 ed ; and, in any court where reason and justice bore sway, would 
 have gained the case. " Should you find, gentleman," concluded 
 Mr. Greeley, " that I had no right to express an opinion as to tho 
 honor and magnanimity of Mr. Cooper, in pushing his case to a trial 
 as related, you will of course compel me to pay whatever damage 
 has been done to his character by such expression, followed and ac 
 
MR. COOPER SUMS UP. 231 
 
 ooinpanied by his own statement of the avIiuIo matter. I will not 
 predict your estimate, gentlemen, but I may express my profound 
 conviction that no opinion wliich Mr. Cooper might choose to express 
 of any act of my life — no construction he could put ujjon my con- 
 duct or motives, could possibly damage mo to an extent whieh 
 would entitle or incline me to ask damages at your hands. 
 
 " But, geullemen, you are bound to consider — you cannot refuse 
 to consider, that if you condemn me to pay any sum whatever for 
 this expression of my opinions on his conduct, you thereby seal your 
 own lips, with those of your neighbors and countrymen, against any 
 such ex|)ression in this or any other case ; you will no longer have 
 a right to censure the rich man who harasses his poor neighbor with 
 vexatious lawsuits merely to oppress and ruin him, but will be lia- 
 ble by your own verdict to prosecution and damages wlienever you 
 shall feel constrained to condemn what appears to you injustice, op- 
 pression, or littleness, no matter how llagrant the case ni ay be. 
 
 "Gentlemen of tlie Jury, my chanu-ter, my reputation are in your 
 hands. I think I may say that I commit them to your keeping un- 
 tarnished ; 1 will not doubt that you will return them to me unsul- 
 lied. I ask of you no mercy, but justice. I have not sought this 
 iv'sue ; but neither have 1 feared nor shunned it. Should you render 
 the verdict against me, I shall deplore far more tlian any jiecuniary 
 consequence the stigma of libeler which your verdict would tend to 
 cast upon me — an imputation which I was never, till now, called to 
 repel before a jury of my countrymen. But, gentlemen, feeling no 
 consciousness of deserving such a stignux — feeling, at this moment, 
 as ever, a profound conviction that I do not deserve it, I shall yet 
 be consoled by the reflection that many nobler and worthier than I 
 have suffered far more than any judgment here could inflict on me 
 for the Rights of Free Speech and Opinion — the right of rebuking 
 oppression and meanness in the language of manly sincerity and 
 honest feeling. By their example, may I still be uiiheld and 
 strengthened. Gentlemen, I fearlessly await your decision!" 
 
 Mr. Greeley resumes his narrative : 
 
 " Mr. J. Fcuimore Cooper summed up in person the cause for the prosecution. 
 He commenced by giving at length the reasons which had induced him to 
 bring this suit in Saratoga. The last and only one that made any impression 
 
232 THE TRIBUNE AND J. FENIMORE COOPER. 
 
 on our mind was this, that he had heavd a great deal of good of the people of 
 Saratoga, and wished to form a better acquaintance with them. (Of course 
 this desire was very flattering ; but we hope the Saratogans won't feel too 
 proud to speak to common folks hereafter, for we want liberty to go there again 
 next summer.) 
 
 " Mr. Cooper now walked into the Public Press and its a.legcd abuses, arro- 
 gant pretensions, its interference in this case, probable motives, etc., but the 
 public are already aware of his sentiments respecting the Press, and would 
 not thank us to recapitulate them. His stories of editors publishing truth and 
 falsehood with equal reli.sh may have foundation in individual cases, but cer- 
 tainly none in general practice. No class of men spend a tenth part so much 
 time or money in endeavoring to procure the earliest and best information 
 from all quarters, as it is their duty to do. Occasionally an erroneous or ut- 
 terly false statement gets into print and is copied — for editors cannot intuitive- 
 ly separate all truth from falsehood — but the evil arises mainly from the cir- 
 cumstance that others than editors are often the spectators of events demand- 
 ing publicity ; since we cannot tell where the next man is to be killed, or the 
 next storm rage, or the next important cause to be tried: if we had the 
 power of prophecy, it would then be time to invent some steam-lightning 
 balloon, and have a reporter ready on the spot the moment before any notable 
 event should occur. This would do it; but now we luckless editors must too 
 often depend on the observation and reports of those who are less observant, 
 less careful, possibly in some cases less sagacious, than those of our own tribe. 
 Our limitations are not unlike those of Mr. Weller, Junior, as stated while 
 under cross-examination in the case of Bardoll vs. Pickwick : 
 
 " ' Yes, I have eyes,' replied Sam, ' and that 's just it. If they was a pair 
 of patent double million magnifyin' gas microscopes of hextra power, p'raps 
 I might be able to see through a flight of stairs and a deal door, but bein' 
 only eyes, you see, my wision's limited.' 
 
 " Fenimore proceeded to consider our defense, which he used up in five min- 
 utes, by pronouncing it no defence at all ! It had nothing to do with the mat- 
 ter in issue whatever, and we must be very green if we meant to be serious 
 in oflfering it. (We were rather green in Supreme Court libel law, that 's a 
 fact; but wo were put to school soon after, and have already run up quite a 
 little bill for tuition, which is one sign of progress.) His Honor the Judge 
 would tell the Jury that our law was no law whatever, or had nothing to do 
 with this case. (So he did — Cooper was right here.) In short, our speech 
 could not have been meant to apply to this case, but was probably the scrap- 
 ings of our editorial closet — mere odds and ends — what the editors call ' Ba- 
 laam.' Here followed a historical digression, concerning what editors call 
 ' Balaam,' which, as it was intended to illustrate the irrelevancy of our whole 
 arr'ument, we thought verj' pertinent. It wound up with what was meant for 
 a joke about Balaam and his ass, which of course was a good thing; but its 
 
MR. COOPER SUMS UP. 2So 
 
 point wholly escaped u?, and we believe the auditors were equally uufortunato. 
 Ilowever, the wag himself appreciated and enjoyed it. 
 
 " There were several other jokes (we suppose they were) uttered in the course 
 of this lively speech, but we did n't get into their merits, (probably not being 
 in the best humor for joking;) but one we remembered because it was really 
 good, and came down to our comprehension. Fenimore was replying to our 
 remarks about the 'handsome Mr. Effingham,' (see speech,) when he observed 
 that if we should sue him for libel in ' pronouncing us not handsome, he should 
 not plead the General Issue, but Juatify.^ That was a neat liit, and well 
 planted. We can tell him, however, that if the Court should rule as hard 
 against him as it does against editors when thoy undertake to justify, he would 
 find it difScult to get in the testimony to establish a matter even so plain as 
 our plainness. 
 
 "Fenimore now took up tlie Fonda libel suit, and fought the whole battle 
 over again, from beginning to end. Now wo had scarcely touched on this, sup- 
 posing that, since we did not justify, we could only refer to the statements 
 contained in the publications put in issue between us, and that the Judge 
 would check us, if we went beyond these. Fenimore, however, had no trou- 
 ble ; said whatever he pleased — much of which would have been very perti- 
 nent if he, instead of we, had been on trial — showed that he did not believe 
 anything of Mr. Weed's familj' being sick at the time of the Fonda Trials, 
 why he did not, &e., Ac. AVe thought he might have reserved M this till we 
 got down to dinner, which everybody was now hungry for, and where it would 
 have been more in place than addressed to the Jury. 
 
 ''Knowing what we positively did and do of the severe illness of the wife 
 of Mr. Weed, and the dangerous state of his eldest daughter at the time of the 
 Fonda Trials in question — regarding them as we do — the jokes attempted to 
 be cut by Fenimore over their condition — his talk of the story growing up 
 from one girl to the mother and three or four daughters — his fun about their 
 probably having the Asiatic cholera among them or some other contagious 
 disease, &c., &c., however it may have sounded to others, did seem to us 
 
 rather inhu Hallo there ! we had like to have put our foot right into it 
 
 again, after all our tuition. AVc moan to say, considering that, just the day 
 before, Mr. Weed had been choked by his counsel into "surrendering at dis- 
 cretion to Fenimore, being assured (correctly) by said counsel that, as the law 
 is now expounded and administered by the Supreme Court, he had no earthly 
 choice but to bow his neck to the yoke, pay all that might be claimed of him 
 and publish whatever humiliations should be required, or else prepare to bo 
 immediately ruined by the suits which Fenimore and Richard had already 
 commenced or were getting ready for him — considering all this, ami how much 
 Mr. Weed has paid and must pay towards his subsistence — how keenly W. baa 
 had to smart for speaking his mind of him — we did not think that Feni- 
 more's talk at this time and place of Weed's family, and of Woed himself as 
 
234 THE TRIBUNE AND J. FENIMORE COOPER. 
 
 d man so p:iUry that he wouLl pretend sickness in hi? family as an ctcuso tc 
 keep away from Court, and resort to trick after trick to put oflF his case for a 
 day or two — it seemed to us, considering the present relations of the partieSj 
 
 most ungen There we go again ! We mean to say that the whole of this 
 
 part of Mr. Cooper's speech grated upon our feelings rather harshly. We be- 
 lieve that isn't a libel. (This talking with a gag in the mouth is rather awk- 
 ward at first, but we '11 get the hang of it in time. Have patience with us, 
 Fenimoro on one side and the Public on the other, till wo nick it.) 
 
 " Personally, Fcnimore treated us pretty well on this trial — let us thank 
 him for that — and so much the more that he did it quite at the expense of his 
 consistency and his logic. For, after stating plumply that he considered us 
 the best of the whole Press-gang he had been fighting with, he yet went on to 
 argue that all we had done and attempted with the intent of rendering him .strict 
 justice, had been in aggravation of our original trespass ! Yes, there he stood, 
 saying one moment that we were, on the whole, rather a clever fellow, and 
 every other arguing that we had done nothing but to injure him wantonly and 
 maliciously at first, and then all in our power to aggravate that injury ! 
 (What a set the rest of us must be !) 
 
 " And here is where he hit us hard for the first time. IIo had talked over 
 an hour without gaining, as we could perceive, an inch of grouml. When his 
 compliment was put in, we supposed he was going on to say he was satisfied 
 with our explanation of the matter and our intentions to do him justice, and 
 would now throw up the case. But instead of this he took a sheer the other 
 way, and came down upon us with the assertion that our publishing his state- 
 ment of the Fonda business with our comments, was an aggravation of our 
 original olTcnse — was in effect adding insult to injury ! 
 
 ******* 
 
 " There was a little point made bj' the prosecution which seemed to us too 
 little. Our Fonda letter had averred that Cooper had three libel-suits coming 
 oflf there at that Circuit — two against Webb, one against Weed. Richard and 
 Fenimore argued that this was a lie — the one against Weed was all. The 
 nicety of tho distinction here taken will be appreciated when we explain that 
 the suits against Webb were indictments for libels on J. Fenimore Cooper! 
 
 '•We supposed that Fenimore would pile up the law against us, but were 
 disappointed. He merely cited the. last case decided against an Editor by tho 
 Supreme Court of this State. Of course, it was very fierce against Editors 
 and their libels, but did not strike us as at all meeting the issue we had 
 raised, or covering the grounds on which this case ought to have been decided. 
 
 " Fenimore closed very effectively with an appeal for his character, and a 
 picture of the sufferings of his wife and family — his grown-up daughters often 
 suffused in tears by these attacks on their father. Some said this was mawk- 
 ish, but we consider it good, and think it told. We have a different theory as 
 
THE VERDICT. 235 
 
 to wbat tho girls were crj'ing for, but we won't stale it lost another doso of 
 Supreme Court law bo administered to us. ('Not anymore at present, I 
 thank ye.') 
 
 "Fenimore closed something before two o'clock, having spoken over an hour 
 and a half. If he had not wasted so much time in promising to make but a 
 short speech and to close directly, ho could have got through considerably 
 sooner. Then he did wrong to Richard by continually recurring to and ful- 
 some eulogiums on the argument of 'my learned kinsman.' llichard had 
 made a good speech and an effective one — no mistake about it — and Fenimore 
 must mar it first by needless, provoking interruptions, and then by praises 
 which, though deserved, were horribly out of place and out of taste. Feni- 
 more, my friend, you and I had better abandon the Bar — we are not likely 
 either of us to cut much of a figure there. Let us quit before we make our- 
 selves ridiculous. 
 
 " Ilis Honor Judge Wiliard occupied a brief half hour in chargmg the 
 Jury. We could not decently appear occupied in taking down this Charge, 
 and no one else did it — so wo must speak of it with great circumspection. That 
 he would go dead against us on the Law of the case we know right well, from 
 his decisions and charges on similar trials before. Not having his Law points 
 before us, w« shall not venture to speak of them. Suffice it to say, that 
 they were New York Supremo and Circuit Court Law — no better and no worse 
 than he has measured off to several editorial culprits before us. They are 
 the settled maxims of the Supreme Court of this State in regard to the law 
 of libel as applied to Editors and Newspapers, and we must have been a goose 
 to expect any better than had been served out to our betters. The Judge 
 was hardly, if at all, at liberty to know or tolerate any other. 
 
 " But we have filled our paper, and must close. The .Judge charged very 
 hard against us on tho facts of tho case, as calling for a pretty sizable verdict — 
 our legal guilt had of course been settled long before in the Supremo Court. 
 
 "When the Charge commenced, wo would not have given Fenimore the 
 first red cent for his verdict ; when it closed, we understood that we were 
 booked to suffer some. If the Jury had returned a verdict in our favor, 
 tho Judge must have been constrained by his charge to set it aside, as 
 contrary to law. 
 
 " The Jury retired about half-past two, and the rest of us went to dinner. 
 The Jury were hungry too, and did not stay out long. On comparing notes, 
 there were seven of them for a verdict of SlOO, two for $200, and three for 
 8.500. They added these sums up — total $2,600— divided by 12, and the 
 dividend was a little over $200 ; so they called it $200 damages and six 
 cents costs, which of course carries full costs .against us. Wo went back 
 from dinner, took tho verdict in all meekness, took a sleigh, and struck a 
 bee-line for New York." 
 
28G THE TRIBUNE AND J. FEXIMCKE COOPER. 
 
 "Thus for the Tribune the rub-a-dub is over ; the aJze we trust hiid aside , 
 the staves all in their places ; the hoops tightly driven ; and the heading not 
 particularly out of order. Nothing remains but to pay piper, or cooper, or 
 whatever; nnd that shall be promptly attended to. 
 
 " Yes, Fenimore shall have his $200. To be sure, we don't exactly see how 
 we came to owe him that sum ; but he has won it, and shall be paid. ' The 
 court awards it, and the law doth give it.' We should like to meet him and 
 have a social chat over the whole business, now it is over. There has been a 
 good deal of fun in it, come to look back ; and if he has as little ill-will to- 
 ward us as we bear to him, there shall never be another hard thought between 
 us. We don't blame him a bit for the whole matter ; he thought we injured 
 him, sued us, and got hi,s pay. Since the Jury have cut down his little bill 
 from $3,000 to $200, we won't higgle a bit about the balance, but pay it on 
 sight. In fact, we rather like the idea of being so munificent a patmn (for 
 our means) of American Literature ; and are glad to do anything fur one of 
 the most creditable (of old) of our authors, who are now generally reduced to 
 any shift for a living by that grand National rascality and grealer folly, the 
 denial of International Copyright. ('My pensive public,' don't flatter yourself 
 that we are to be rendered mealy-mouthed toward you by our buffeting. Wo 
 shall put it to your iniquities just as straight as a loon's leg, calling a spade 
 a spade, and not an oblong garden implement, until the judicial construction 
 of the law of libel shall take another hitch, and its penalties be invoked to 
 shield communities as well as individuals from censure for their transgressions 
 Till then, keep a bright look out !) 
 
 " And Kichard, too, shall have his share of ' the spoils of victory.' He has 
 earned them fairly, and, in the main, like a gentleman — making us no need- 
 less trouble, and we presume no needless expense. All was fair and above 
 board, save some little specks in his opening of the case, which we noticed 
 some hours ago, and have long since forgiven. For the rest, we rather like 
 what we have seen of him ; and if anybody has any law business in Otsego, or 
 any libel suits to prosecute anywhere, we heartily recommend Richard to do 
 the work, warranting the client to be handsomely taken in and done for 
 throughout. (There 's a puff, now, a man may be proud of. We don't give 
 such every day out of pure kindness. It was Fenimore, we believe, that said 
 on the trial, that our word went a great way in this country.) Can we say a 
 good word for you, gallant foeman ? We '11 praise any thing of yours we 
 have roiid except the Monikins. 
 
 " But sadder thoughts rush in on us in closing. Our case is well enough, 
 or of no moment ; but wo cannot resist the conviction that by the result of 
 these Cooper libel-suits, and by the Judicial constructions which produce that 
 result, the Liberty of the Press — its proper influence and respectability, its 
 power to rebuke wrong and to exert a salutary influence upon the Public Mor' 
 als is fearfully impaired AVe do not see how any paper can exist, and speak 
 
A NEW SUIT. ^ST 
 
 and act worthily and usefully in this State, without subjecting itself daily to 
 innumerable, unjust and crushing prosecutions and indictments for l.bcL 
 Even if Juries could have nerves of iron to say and do what they really th.nk 
 ric^ht betweon man and man, the costs of such prosecution would ruin any 
 jo"urnal. But the Liberty of the Press has often been compelled to appeal 
 from the bench to the people. It will do so now, and we will not doubt with 
 success. Let not, then, the wrongdoer who is cunning enough to keep the 
 blind side of the law, the swindling banker who has spirited away the means 
 of the widow and orphan, the libertine who has dragged a fresh victim to h.s 
 Vair, imac-ine that they are permanently shielded, by this misapplication of 
 the law of libel, from fearless exposure to public scriftiuy and indignation by 
 tho ea-le gaze of an unfettered Press. Chmds and darkness may for the 
 moment rest upon it, but they cannot, in the nature of things, endure. In 
 the very <^loom of its present humiliation we read the prediction of its speedy 
 and certain restoration to its rights and its true dignity-to a sphere not of 
 legal sufferance merely, but of admitted usefulness and honor." 
 
 This narrative, which came within tliree-quaners of a cohunn of 
 filling the entire inside of the Tribune,. and must have covere.l fifty 
 pagel of foolscap, was written at the rate of about a coUiuui aa 
 hour. It sot the town laughing, elicited favorable notices from inoro 
 than two hundred papers, and provoked the novelist to new anger, 
 and another suit; in which the damages were laid at three thousand 
 dollars. '^ We have a lively trust, however," said the offending edi- 
 tor, "that we sliall convince the jury that we do not owe him tho 
 first red cent of it." This is one paragraph of the new complaint : 
 
 "And the said plaintiff further says and avers that the syllables inhu, fol- 
 lowed by a dash, when they occur in the publication hereinafter set forth, as 
 
 follows, to wit, inhu , were meant and intended by tho said defendants for 
 
 tho word inhuman, and that the said defendants, in using tho aforesaid sylla- 
 bles followed by a dash as aforesaid, in connection with tho context, intended 
 to convey, and did convey, the idea that the said plaintiff, on the occasion re- 
 ferred to in that part of said publication, had acted in an inhuman manner. 
 And the said plaintiff also avers that the syllable ungen, followed by a dash, 
 
 as follows, to wit, ungen , when they occur in the publication hereinafter 
 
 Bet forth, were meant and intended by the said defendants either for the word 
 ungenerous or tho word ungcntlemanly, and that the said defendants, in usmg 
 the syllables last aforesaid, followed by a dash as aforesaid, in connection with 
 the context, intended to convoy, and did convoy, the idea that tho said plain- 
 tiff on the occasion referred to in that part of said publication, had acted 
 
238 THE TRIBUNE AND J. FENIMORE COOPER. 
 
 either in a most ungenerous or a most ungentlemanly manner, to wit, at the 
 place and in the county aforesaid." 
 
 In an article commenting upon tlie writ, the editor, after repel- 
 ling the charge, tliat his account of the trial was 'replete with 
 errors of fact,' pointedly addressed his distinguished adversary thus : 
 
 " But, Fenimoro, do hear reason a minute. This whole business is ridicu 
 lous. If you would simply sue those of the Press-gang who displease you, it 
 would not be so bad ; but you sue and write too, which is not the fair thing. 
 What use in belittling the profession of Literature by appealing from its 
 courts to those of Law? We ought to litigate upward, not down. Now, Fen- 
 imore, you push a very good quill of your own except when you attempt to 
 be funny — there you break down. But in the way of cutting and slashing you 
 are No. one, and you don't seem averse to it either. Then why not settle 
 this diflference at the point of the pen? We hereby tender you a column a 
 day of The Tribune for ten days, promising to publish verbatim whatever you 
 may write and put your name to — and to publish it in both our daily and 
 weekly papers. You may give your view of the whole controversy between 
 yourself and the Press, tell your story of the Ballston Trial, and cut us up to 
 your heart's content. We will further agree not to write over two columns in 
 reply to the whole. Now why is not this better than invoking the aid of John 
 Doe and Richard Roe (no offense to Judge W. and your 'learned kinsman!') 
 in the premises? Be wise, now, most chivalrous antagonist, and don't detract 
 from the dignity of your profession !" 
 
 Mr. Cooper, we may infer, hecame wise; for the suit never came 
 to trial; nor did he accept the Trihuiie's offer of a column a day 
 for ten days. For one more editorial article on the suhject room 
 must be afforded, and with that, our chapter on the Cooperage of 
 the Triltune may have an end. 
 
 "Our friend Fenimore Cooper, it will be remembered, chivalrously declared, 
 in his summing up at Ballston, that if we were to sue him for a libel in assert- 
 ing our personal uncomeliness, he should nc I plead the Gentral Issue, but 
 Justijy. To a plain man, this would seem an easy and safe course. But let 
 us try it : Fenimore has the audacity to say we are not handsome ; we employ 
 Richard — we presume lie has no aversion to a good fee. even if made of the 
 Editorial 'sixpences' Fenimore dilated on — and commence our action, laying 
 the venue in St. Lawrence, Alleghany, or some other county where our personal 
 appearance is not notorious; and, if the Judge should be a friend of ours, so 
 much the better. AVell : Fenimore boldly pleads Justification, thinking it as 
 easy as not But how is he to establish if We of course should not bo so 
 
AN IMAGINARY CASE. 239 
 
 green as to attend the Trial in person on such an issue — no man is obliged to 
 miike out his adversary's case — but would leave it all to Richard, and tho 
 help the Judge might properly give him. So tho case is on, and Fenimoro 
 undertakes tho Justification, which of course admits and aggravates the libel; 
 60 our side is all made out. But let us see how he gets along : of course, ho 
 will not think of offering witnesses to swear point-blank that we are homely — 
 that, if ho did not know it, the Judge would soon tell him would be a simple 
 opinion, which would not do to go to a Jury ;* he must present ftids. 
 
 " Fcnimore. — ' Well, then, your Honor, I offer to prove by this witness that 
 the plaintiff is tow-headed, and half bald at that ; he is long-legged, gaunt, 
 and most cadaverous of visage — ergo, homely.' 
 
 ^^ Judge. — IIow does that follow 9 Light hair and fair face bespeak a 
 purely Saxon ancestry, and were honorable in the good old days : I rule that 
 they are comely. Thin locks bring out the phrenological developments, you 
 see, and give dignity and massivencss to the aspect ; and as to slenderness, 
 what do our dandies lace for if that is not graceful ? They ought to know 
 what is attractive, I reckon. No, .sir. yciur prouf is irrelevant, and I rule it 
 out.' 
 
 " Fenimore (the sweat starting). — 'Well, your Honor, I have evidence to 
 prove the said plaintiff slouching in dress ; goes bent like a hoop, and so rock 
 ing in gait that he walks down both sides of a street at once.' 
 
 "Judge. — ' That to prove homeliness 7 I hope you don't expect a man of 
 ideas to spend his precious time before a looking-glass 1 It would be robbing 
 the pu'.ilic. "Bent," do you say? Isn't the curve the true lino of beauty, 
 I 'd like to know? Where were you brought up? As to walking, you aon't 
 e.xpect " a man of mark," as you called him at Ballston, to be quite as dapper 
 and port as a footman, whose walk is his hourly study and his nightly dream 
 and perfection the sum of his ambition ! Great ideas of beauty you must 
 have ! That evidence won't answer.' 
 
 "Now, Fenimore, brother in adversity ! wouldn't you begin to have a re- 
 alizing sense of your awful situation ? Would n't you begin to wish yourself 
 somewhere else, and a great deal further, before you came into Court to jus- 
 tify legally an opinion ? Wouldn't you begin to perceive that tho application 
 of the Law of Libel in its strictness to a mere expression of opinion is absurd, 
 mistaken, and tyrannical ? 
 
 " Of course, wo shan't take advantage of your exposed and perilous condi- 
 tion, for we are meek and forgiving, with a hearty disrelish for tho machinery 
 of the law. But if we had a mind to take hold of you, with Richard to help 
 us, and the Supreme Court's ruling in actions of libel at our back, wouldn't 
 I ou catch it ? We should get the whole Fund back again, and give a dinner 
 to tho numerous Editorial contributors. That dinner would be worth attend- 
 ing, Fenimoro ; and we '11 warrant the jokes to average a good deal better than 
 those you cracked in your "peecb at Ballston." 
 
CHATTER XIX. 
 
 THE TRIB.UKE CONTINUES. 
 
 The Special Express system — Night adventures of E!iocli Ward — Gig Express— Sj 
 press from Halifax — Baulked by the snow-drifts -Party warfare then — Books pub 
 lished by Oreeley and iMcEIralh — Course of the Tribune— The Editor travels- 
 Scenes in VVashiiigton — An incident of travel— Clay and Frelinghuysen — The exer- 
 tions of Horace Creeley — Results of thft defeat — The Tribune and Slavery — Burn 
 ing of the Tribune Building'— The Editor's reflections upon the fire. 
 
 What gunpowder, improved fire-anns, and drilling have done for 
 ivar, the railroad and telegraph have done for the daily press, 
 namely, reduced success to an affair of calculation and expenditure. 
 Twelve years ago, there was a chance for the display of individual 
 enterprise, daring, prowess, in procuring news, and, ahove all, in be- 
 ing the j'?r&^ to announce it; which was, is, and over will he, the 
 point of competition with daily papers. Those were the daj'S of 
 the Special Expresses, which appear to have been run, regardless 
 of expense, horsetlesh, and safety, and in the running of which in- 
 credible things were achieved. Not reporters alone were then 
 eent to remote i)laces to report an expected speech. The reporters 
 were accomi)anied, sometimes, by a rider, sometimes by a corps of 
 printers witii fonts of type, who set up the speech on the special 
 steamboat as fast as the reporters could write it out, and had it 
 ready for the press before the steamboat readied the city. AYonder- 
 ful things were done by special express in those days ; for the com- 
 petition between the rival ])aper9 was intense beyond description. 
 
 Tfike these six paragraphs from the Tribune as the sufficient and 
 Btriking record of a state of things long past away. They need no 
 explanation or connecting remark. Perhaps they will astonish the 
 young reader rather : 
 
 "The Governor's Message reached Wall street last evening, at nino. The 
 contract was for three riders and ton relays of horses, and the Express was to 
 itart at 12 o'clock, M., and reach this city at 10 in tbo evening. It is not 
 

 '7C 
 
 i 
 
 ^ ^1^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
THE SPECIAL EXPRESS SVSTEM. 241 
 
 known here whether the arrangements at the other eni of the route were 
 strictly adhered to; but if they were, and the Express started at the hour 
 agreed upon, it came through in nine hour?, making but a fraction less than 
 eighteen miles an hour, which seems almost incredible. It is not impossible 
 that it started somewhat before the time agreed upon, and quite likely that ex- 
 tra riders and horses were employed ; but be that as it may, the dispatch ii 
 almost — if not quite — unparalleled in this country." 
 
 " Our e.Tpress, (Mr. Enoch Ward,) with returns of the Connecticut Election, 
 left New Haven Monday evening, in a light sulky, at twenty-five minutes be- 
 fore ten o'clock, having been detained thirty-five minutes by the non-arrival 
 of the Express locomotive from Hartford. He reached Stamford — forty miles 
 from New Haven — in three hours. Here it commenced snowing, and the night 
 was so exceedingly dark that he could not travel without much risk. He kept 
 on, however, with commendable zeal, determined not to be conquered by any 
 ordinary obstacle.^. Just this side of New Rochelle, and while descending a 
 hill, he had the misfortune to run upon a horse which was apparently stand- 
 ing still in the road. The horse was mounted by a man who must have been 
 asleep ; otherwise he would have got out of the way. The breast of the horse 
 came in contact with tl'e sulky between the wheel and the shaft. The effect 
 of the concussion Tum to break the wheel of the sulky by wrenching out nearly 
 all the spokes. The night was so dark that nothing whatever could be seen, 
 and it is not known whether the horse and the stranger received any material 
 injury. Mr. Ward then took the harness from h'u horse, mounted him with- 
 out a saddle, and came on to this city, a distance of seventeen miles, arriving 
 at five o'clock on Tuesday morning." 
 
 " It will be recollected that a great ado ttit Tn'\{\c iipnn-ihn rrfript in this 
 city of the Acadia's news by two of~Our journals, inasmuch as no other paper 
 received the advices, one of them placarding the streets with announcements 
 that the news was received by special and exclusive express. Now, the facts 
 are these : The Acadia arrived at Boston at half-past three o'clock, the cars 
 leaving at four; in coming to her wharf she struck her bow again.st the dock 
 and immediately reversed her wheels, put out again into the bay, and did 
 not reach her berth until past four. Bat two persons, belonging to the offices 
 of the Atlas and Times, jumped on board at the moment the ship struck the 
 wharf, obtained their packages, and threw them into the water, whence they 
 were taken and put into a gig and taken to the depot. ' Thus,' said the Com- 
 mercial, from which we gather the facts stated above ' the gig was the " Spe- 
 cial Express," and its tremendous run was from Long Wharf to the depot — 
 about one mile !' '' 
 
 " The news by the next steamer is looked for with intense interest, and in 
 
 11 
 
242 THE TRIBUNE CONTINUES. 
 
 order to place it before our readers at an early moment, we made arrange" 
 ments some weeks since to start a horse Express from Halifax across Nova 
 Scotia to the Bay of FiinJy, there to meet a powerful steamer wliich will 
 convey our Agent and Messenger to Portland. At the latter place we run 
 a Locomotive Express to Boston, whence we express it by steam and horse- 
 power to New York. Should no unforeseen accident occur, we will be enabled 
 by this Express to publish the news in New York some ten, or perhaps fifteen 
 or twenty hours before the arrival of the steamer in Boston. The extent of 
 this enterprise may in part be judged of by the fact, that we pay no less than 
 Eighteen Hundred Dollars for the single trip of the steamer on the Bay of 
 Fundy ! It is but fair to add that, in this Express, we were joined from the 
 commencement by the Sun of this city, and the North American of Phila- 
 delphia ; and the Journal of Commerce has also since united with us in the 
 enterprise." 
 
 " We were beaten with the news yesterday morning, owing to circumstancea 
 which no human energy could overcome. In spite of the great snow-storm, 
 which covered Nova Scotia with drifts several feet high, impeding and often 
 overturning our express-sleigh — in defiance of hard ice in the Bay of Fundy 
 and this side, often 18 inches thick, through which our steamboat had to plow 
 her way — we brought the news through to Boston in thirty-one hours from 
 Halifax, several hours ahead of the Cambria herself. Thence it ought to have 
 reached this city by 6 o'clock yesterday morning, in ample season to have 
 gone south in the regular mail train. It was delayed, however, by unforeseen 
 and unavoidable disasters, and only reached New Haven after it should have 
 been in this city. From New Haven it was brought hither in four hours and 
 a half hy our ever-trusty rider, Enoch Ward, who never lets the grass grow to 
 the heels of his horses. He came in a little after 11 o'clock, but the rival ex- 
 press had got in over two hours earlier, having made the shortest run from 
 Boston on record." • 
 
 "The Portland Bulletin has been unintentionally led into the gross error of 
 believing the audacious fabrication that Bennett's express came through to 
 this city in seven hours and five minutes from Boston, beating ours^ye or six 
 hours! That express left Boston at 11 P. M. of Wednesday, and arrived here 
 20 minutes past 9 on Thursday — actual time on the road, over ten hours. The 
 Bulletin further says that our express was sixteen hours on the road. No such 
 thing. We lost some fifteen minutes at the ferry on the east side of Boston. 
 Then a very short time (instead of an hour and a half, as is reported by the 
 express) in finding our agent in Boston ; then an hour in firing up an engine and 
 getting away from Boston, where all should have been ready for us, but was not 
 The locomotive was over two hours in making the run to Worcester — 42 miles — 
 though the Herald runner who cams 'iirough on the arrival of the Cambria 
 
PARTY WARFARE THEN. 243 
 
 gome time after, was carried over it in about half tlic time, with not one-fourth 
 the delay we eujountered at the depot in Boston. (We could guess how all 
 this was brought about, but it would answer no purpose now.) At Worcester, 
 Jlr. Twitehell (whom our agent on this end had only been able to find on 
 Tuesday, baring been kept two days on the route to Boston by a storm, and 
 then finding Mr. T. absent in Now Hampshire) was found in bed, but got up 
 and put off, intending to ride but one stage. At its end, however, he found 
 the rider he had hired siek, and had to come along himself At one stopping- 
 place, he found his horse amiss, and had to buy one before he could proceed. 
 When he reached Hartford (toward morning) there was no engine fired up, no 
 one ready, and another hour was lost there. At New Haven our rider was 
 asleep, and much time was lost in finding him and getting off. Thus we lost 
 in delays, which tee could not foresee or prevent,over three hours this side of 
 Boston ferry, — the Cambria having arrived two or three days earlier than she 
 ■«»as expected, before our arrangements could be perfected, and on the only 
 night of the week that the rival express could have beaten oven our bad time, 
 — the Long Island Railroad being obstructed with snow both before and after- 
 ward. The Herald express came in at 20 minutes past 9; our express was 
 here at 15 minutes past 12, or less than three hours afterward. Such are 
 the facts. The express for the U. S. Gazette crossed the ferry to Jersey City 
 at lOj instead of 11 §, as we mis-stated recently." 
 
 That will do for tbe curiosillos of the Special Express. Another 
 feature has vanished from the press of this country, since those 
 paragraphs were ivritten. The leading journals are no \oDgev party 
 journals. There are no parties ; and tliis fact has changed the look, 
 and tone, and manner of newsjiapers in a remarkable degree. As 
 a curiosity of old-fashioned party politics, and as an illustration of 
 the element in which and with which our hero was compelled oc- 
 casionally to labor, I am tempted to insert here a few paragraplia 
 of one of his day-of-the-election articles. Think of the Tribune of 
 to-day^ and judge of the various progress it and the country have 
 made, since an article like the following could have seemed at home 
 in its columns. 
 
 THE WARDS ARE AWAKE! 
 
 " OLD FIRST ! Steady and true ! A split on men has aroused her to 
 bring out her whole force, which will tell nobly on the Mayor. Friends ! fight 
 oat your Collector, split fairly, like men, and be good friends as ever at sunset 
 to-day ; but be sure not to throw away rour Assistant Alderman. Wo sot 
 you down 600 for Robert Smith. 
 
244 THE TRIBUNE CONTINUES. 
 
 "SAUCY SECOND ! Never a Loco has a look here ! Our friends are uni. 
 ted, and have done their work, though making no noise about it. We count 
 on 400 for Smith. 
 
 " GALLANT THIRD ! You are wanted for the full amount ! Things are 
 altogether too sleepy here. Why won't somebody run stump, or get up a 
 volunteer ticket 1 We see that the Loeo-Foco Collector has Whig ballots 
 ■printed with his name on them ! This ought to arouse all the friends of the 
 clean AVhig Ticket. Come out, Whigs of the Third ! and pile up 700 major- 
 ity for Robert Smith ! One less is unworthy of you ; and you can give more 
 if you try. But let it go at 700." 
 
 "BLOODY SIXTH ! We won't tell all we hope from this ward, but we 
 know Aid. Crolius is popular, as is Owen W. Brennan, our Collector, and 
 we feel quite sure of their election. We know that 3'esterday the Locos were 
 afraid Shaler would decline, as they said his friends would vote for Crolius 
 rather than Emmons, who is rather too well known. We concede 300 major- 
 ity to Morris, but our friends can reduce it to 200 if they work right." 
 
 " EMPIRE EIGHTH ! shall your faithful Gedney be defeated 7 Has he 
 not deserved better at your hands 1 And Sweet, too, he was foully cheated 
 out of his election last year by Loco-Foco fire companies brought in from the 
 Fifteenth, and prisoners imported from Blackwell's Island. Eighteen of them 
 in one house ! You owe it to your candidates to elect them — you owe it still 
 more to yourselves — and yet your Collector quarrel makes us doubt a little. 
 Whigs of the Eighth ! resolve to carry your Alderman and you will ! Any 
 how, Robert Smith will have a mnjority — we '11 state it moderately at 200." 
 
 " BLOOMING TWELFTH ! The Country Ward is steadily improving, po- 
 litically as well as physically. The Whigs run their popular Alderman of 
 last year ; the Locos have made a most unpopular Ticket, which was only 
 forced down the throats of many by virtue of the bludgeon. Heads were 
 cracked like walnuts the night the ticket was agreed to. AVe say 50 for 
 Smith, and the clean Whig ticket." 
 
 ilfiili:****** 
 
 "Whigs of New York! The day is yours if you will! But if you 
 s£;ulk to your chimney corners and let such a man as Rodert Smith be 
 "Deaten by Robert II. Morris, you will deserve to bo cheated, plundered and 
 trampled on as you have been. But, No ! you will not ! On for Smith 
 AND Victory !" 
 
 We novr turn over, with necessary rapidity, the pages of the 
 third and fourth vohimes of the Tribune, pausing, here and there, 
 when soinetiiing of i:\terest respecting its editor catches our eye. 
 
BOOKS PUBLISHED BY GREELEV AND McELRATH. 24t> 
 
 Greeley and McElrath, we observe, are engaged, soniewliat exten- 
 sively, in tlie business of publishing books. The Whig Almanac ap- 
 pears every year, and sells from fifteen to twenty thousand copies. 
 It contains statistics witlu)ut end, and nmch literature of what may 
 be called the Franklin School — short, practical articles on agricul- 
 ture, economy, and morals. 'Travels on the Prairies,' Ellsworth's 
 ' Agricultural Geology,' ' Lardner's Lectures,' ' Life and Speeches of 
 Henry Clay,' ' Tracts on the Tariff' by Horace Greeley, ' Tiie Farm- 
 ers' Library,' are among the works published by Greeley and McEl- 
 rath in the years 1843 and 1844. The business was not profitable, 
 I believe, and gradually the firm relinquished all their publications, 
 except only the Tribune and Almanac. September 1st, 1843, tha 
 Evening Tribune began; the Semi-Weekly, May 17th, 1845. 
 
 Carlyle's Past and Present, one of the throe or four Great Bookd 
 of the present generation, was published in May 1843, from a pri- 
 vate copy, entrusted to the charge of Mr. R. W. Ei-jei-son. The 
 Tribune saw its merit, and gave the book a cordial welcome. 
 "This is a great book, a noble book," it said, in a second notice, 
 " and we take blame to ourself for having rashly asserted, before we 
 had read it thoroughly, that the autlior, keen- sighted at discovering 
 Social evils and tremendous in dejiicting them, was yet blind as to 
 their approprial'i remedies. He does see and indicate those reme- 
 dies — not entirely and in detail, but in spirit and in substance very 
 clearly and forcibly. There has no new work of equal practical 
 value with this been put forth by any writer of eminence within 
 the century. Although sjjecially addressed to and ti"eating of the 
 People of England, its thoughts are of immense value and general 
 application here, and we hope many thousand copies of the wort 
 will instantly be put into circulation." 
 
 Later in the year the Tribune introduced to the people of tho 
 United States, the system of Water-Cure, copying largely from Eu- 
 ropean journals, and dilating in many editorial articles on the man- 
 ifold and unsuspected virtues of cold water. The Erie Railroad — 
 fiiat gigantic enterprise — had then and afterwards a powerful friend 
 and advocate in the Tribune. In behalf of the unemployed poor, 
 the Tribune spoKe wisely, feelingly, and often. To the new Native 
 American Party, it g«ve no quarter. For Irish Repeal, it fought like 
 a tiger. For Protection and Olay, it co^ild not say enough. Upon 
 
246 THE TRIE IKE CONTINUES. 
 
 farmers it urged the duty and policy of high farming. To the strong 
 unemployed young men of cities, it said repeatedly and in various 
 terms, ' Go forth into the Fields and Labor with your Hands.' 
 
 In the autumn, Mr. Greeley made a tour of four weeks in the Far 
 West, and wrote letters to the Tribune descriptive and suggestive. 
 In December, he spent a few days in "Washington, and gave a surry 
 account of the state of things in that ' magnificent mistake.' * 
 
 "To a new comer," he wrote, " the Capitol wears an imposing appearance : 
 Nay, more. Let him view it for the first time by daylight, with the flag of 
 the Union floating proudly above it, (indicating that Congress is in session,) 
 and, if he be an American, I defy him to repress a swelling of the heart — a 
 glow of enthusiastic feeling. Under these free-flowing Stripes and Stars the 
 Representatives of the Nation are assembled in Council — under the emblem 
 of the National Sovereignty is in action the collective energy and embodiment 
 of that Sovereignty. Proud rew)llections of beneficent and glorious events 
 come thronging thickly upon him — of the Declaration of Independence, the 
 struggles of the Revolution, and the far more glorious peaceful advances of 
 the eagles of Freedom from the AUoghanies to the Falls of St Anthony and 
 the banks of the Osage. An involuntary cheer rushes from his heart to his 
 lips, and he hastens at once to the Halls of Legislation to witness and listen 
 to the displays of patriotic foresight, wisdom and eloquence, there evolved. 
 
 "But here his raptures are chilled instanter. Entering the Capitol, he 
 finds its passages a series of blind, gloomy, and crooked labyrinths, through 
 which a stranger threads his devious way with difiiculty, and not at all with- 
 out inquiry and direction, to the door of the Senate or House. Here he is 
 met, as everywhere through the edifice, by swarms of superserviceable under- 
 lings, numerous as the frogs of Egypt, eager to manifest their official zeal 
 and usefulness by keeping him out or kicking him out again. He retires dis- 
 gusted, and again threads the bewildering maze to the gallery, where (if of 
 the House) he can only look down on the noisy Bedlam in action below him — 
 somebody speaking and nobody listening, but a buzz of conversation, the trot- 
 ,ting of boys, the walking about of members, the writing and folding of let- 
 ters, calls to order, cries of question, calls for Yeas and Nays, Ac, give him 
 large opportunities for headache, meager ones for edification. Half an hour 
 will usually cure him of all passion for listening to debates in the House. 
 There are, of course, occasions when it is a privilege to be here, but I speak of 
 the general scene and impression. 
 
 " To-day, but more especially yesterday, a deplorable spectacle has been 
 presented here — a glaring exemplification of the terrible growth and diffusion 
 of office-begging. The Loco-Foco House has ordered a clean sweep of all its 
 underlings — door-keepers, porters, messenger^ wood-carriers, Ac, Ac I care 
 
AN INCIDENT OF TRAVEL, 247 
 
 nothing for this, ?o far as tho turncJ-out aro concerned— let them cam a 
 living, like other folks— but tho swarms of aspirants that invaded every avenue 
 and hall oi tho Capitol, making doubly hideous tho dissonance of its hundred 
 echoes, were dreadful to contemplate. Here were hundreds of young boys, 
 from twenty down to twelve years of age, deep in the agonies of this debasing 
 game, ear-wigging and button-holding, talkiag of the services of their fathers 
 or brothers to ' tho party,' and getting members to intercede for them with tho 
 appointing power. Tho new door-keeper was in distraction, and had to hide 
 behind the Speaker's chair, where he could not be hunted except by pro.xy. 
 ******* 
 
 "The situationoflhogroaternumberofClorksin thodcpartments and other 
 subordinate ofiQce-holders here is deplorable. No matter what are their re- 
 spective salaries, tho great mass of them aro always behind-hand and getting 
 more so. When ono is dismissed from office, he has no resource, and no 
 ability to wait for any, and considers himself, not unnaturally, a ruined man. 
 lie usually begs to be reinstated, and his wile writes or goes to the Presi- 
 dent or Secretary to cry him back into place with an 'ower-true tale' of a 
 father without hope and children without bread ; if repulsed, their prospect 
 is dreary indeed. Where office is the solo resource, and its retention depend- 
 ent on another's interest or caprice, there is no slave so pitiable as the 
 officer. 
 
 " Of course, where every man's livelihood is dependent on a game of chance 
 and intrigue, outright gambling is frightfully prevalent. This city is fall of 
 it in every shape, from tho flaunting lottery-office on every corner to tho 
 secret card-room in every dark recess. Many who come here for office lose 
 their last cent in these dens, and have to borrow the means of getting away. 
 Such is Washington." 
 
 One incident of travel, and we turn to the next volnine. It yc- 
 curred on ' a Sound steamboat' in the year of our Lord, 1813 : 
 
 " Two cleanly, well-behaved black men, who had just finished a two years' 
 term of service to their country on a ship-of-war, were returning from Boston 
 to their homes in this city. They presented their tickets, showing that they 
 had paid full passage through at Boston, and requested berths. But thero 
 was no place provided for blacks on the boat ; they could not be admitted to 
 the common cabin, and tho clerk informed them that they must walk the deck 
 all night, returning them seventy-five cents of their passage -money. Wo 
 saw the captain, and remonstrated on their behalf, and were convinced that 
 the fault was not his. There was no space on the boat for a room specially 
 for blacl;s (which would probably cost $20 for every $1 it yielded, as it would 
 rarely be required, and ho could not put whites into it) ; he had tried to 
 make such a room, but could find no place ; and he but a few days before gave 
 
248 THE TRIBUNE CONTINUES. 
 
 a berth in the cabin to a decent, cleanly colored man, when the other pas- 
 sengers appointed a committee to wait on him, and tell him that would not 
 answer — so he had to turn out the ' nigger' to pace the deck through the 
 night, count the slow hours, and reflect on the glorious privilege of living In 
 a land of liberty, where Slavery and tyranny are demolished, and all men are 
 free and equal ! 
 
 " Such occurrences as this might make one ashamed of Human Natui«. 
 We do not believe there is a steamboat in the South where a negro passing a 
 night upon it would not have found a place to sleep." 
 
 The year 1844 was the year of Clay and Frelinghnysen, Polk and 
 Dallas, the year of Nativism and the Philadelphia riots, the year 
 of delirious hope and deep despair, the year that finished one era of 
 politics and hegan another, the year of Margaret Fuller and the 
 burning of the Tribune office, the year when Horace Greeley show- 
 ed his friends liow liard a man can work, how little he can sleep, 
 and yet live. The Tribune began its fourth volume on the tenth of 
 April, enlarged one-third in size, with new type, and a modest flour- 
 ish of trumpets. It returned tlianks to the public for the liberal 
 support which had been extended to it from the beginning of its 
 career. " Our gratitude," said the editor, " is the deeper from our 
 knowledge that many of the views expressed througli our columns 
 are unacceptable to a large proportion of our readers. "We know 
 especially that our advocacy of measures intended to meliorate the 
 social condition of the toiling millions (not the purpose, but the 
 means), our ardent sympathy with the people of Ireland in their 
 protracted, arduous, peaceful struggle to recover some portion of 
 the common riglits of man, and our opposition to the legal extinc- 
 tion of human life, are severally or collectively regarded with ex- 
 treme aversion by many of our steadfast patrons, whose liberality 
 and confidence is gratefully appreciated." To the "Whig party, of 
 wliich it was " not an organ, but an humble advocate," its " obliga- 
 tions were many and profound." The Tribune, in fact, had become 
 the leading "Whig paper of the country. • 
 
 Horace Greeley had long set his heart upon the election of Henry 
 Clay to the presidency ; and for some special reasons besides the 
 general one of his belief that the policy identified with the name 
 of Henry Clay was the true policy of the governiiient. Henry Clay 
 was one of the heroes of his boyliood's admiration. Yet, in 1840 
 
CLAY AND FKELINGIIUYSEN. 249 
 
 believing that Clay could not be elected, he had used his iufluonco 
 to promote the nomination of Gen. Harrison. Then came the death 
 of the president, tlie ' apostasy' of Tyler, and his pitiful attempts to 
 secure a re-election. The annexation of Texas loomed up in the 
 distance, and the rej)eal of the tariff of 1842. For these and other 
 reasons, Horace Greeley was inflamed with a desire to behold once 
 more the triumph of his l>arty, and to see the long career of the 
 eminent Kentuckian crowned with its suitable, its coveted reward. 
 For this he labored as few men have ever labored for any but per- 
 sonal objects. He attended the convention at Baltimore that nomi- 
 nated the Whig candidates — one of the largest (and quite the most 
 excited) political assemblages that ever were gathered in this coun- 
 try. During tlie summer, he addressed political meetings three, 
 four, five, six times a week. He travelled far and wide, advising, 
 speaking, and in every way urging on the cause. He wrote, on an 
 average, four columns a day for the Tribune. He answered, on an 
 average, twenty letters a day. He wrote to such an extent that his 
 right arm broke out into biles, and, at one time, tliere were twenty 
 between the wrist and the elbow. He lived, at that time, a long 
 distance from the office, and many a hot night he protracted his 
 labors till the last omnibus had gone, and he was obliged to trudge 
 wearily home, after sixteen hours of incessant and intense exertion. 
 The whigs were very confident. They were sure of victory. But 
 Horace Greeley knew the country better. If every Whig had worked 
 as he worked, how different had been the result! how diflerent the 
 subsequent history of the country ! how different its future ! We 
 had had no annexation of Texas, n^ ^Mexican war, no tinkering of 
 the tariff to keep the nation provincially dependent on Europe, no 
 Fugitive Slave Law, no Pierce, no Douglas, no Nebraska ! 
 
 The day before tlie election, the Tribune had a paragraph which 
 shows liow excited and how anxious its editor was: " Give to-mor- 
 row," he said, " entirely to your country. Grudge her not a mo- 
 ment of the daylight. Let not a store or shop be opened — nobody 
 can want to trade or Avork till the contest is decided. It needs 
 every man of ivs, and our utmost exertions, to save the City, the 
 State and the Union. A tremendous responsibility rests upon us 
 — an electrifying victory or calamitous defeat awaits us. Two dayt 
 only are before us. Action ! Action !" On the morning of the de- 
 
 II* 
 
250 THE TRIBUNE CONTINUES. 
 
 cisive (lay, he said, "Don't mind the rain. It may be bad weather, 
 but notliing to what the election of Polk would bring upon ns. 
 Let no "Whig be deterred by rain fron: doing his whole duty ! Who 
 values his coat more than his country ?" 
 
 All in vain. The returns came in slowly to what they now do. 
 The result of a presidential election is now known in New York 
 within a few hours of the closing of the polls. But then it was 
 three days before the whigs certainly knew that Harry of the West 
 had been beaten by Polk of Tennessee, before Americans knew that 
 their voice in the election of president was not the controlling one. 
 
 " Each morning," said the Tribune, a few days after the result 
 was known, '' convincing proofs present themselves of the horrid 
 effects of Loco-focoism, in the election of Mr. Polk. Yesterday it 
 was a countermanding of orders for $8000 worth of stoves ; to-day 
 the Pittsburg Gazette says, that two Scotch gentlemen who arrived 
 In that city last June, with a capital of £12,000, which they wished 
 to invest in building a large factory for the manufacture of woolen 
 fabrics, left for Scotland, when they learnt that the Anti-Tariff 
 champion was elected. They will return to the rough hills of Scot- 
 land, build a factory, and pour their goods into this country when 
 Polk and his break-down party shall consummate their political 
 iniquity. These are the small first-fruits of Polk's election, the 
 younglings of the flock, — mere hints of the confusion and difficul- 
 ties which will rush down in an overwhelming flood, after the Polk 
 machine gets well in motion." 
 
 The election of Polk and Dallas changed the tone of the Tribune 
 on one important subject. Until tlie threatened annexation of Texas, 
 which the result of this election made a certainty, the Tribune had 
 meddled little with the question of slavery. To the sillhiess of 
 slavery as an institution, to its infinite absurdity and impolicy, to 
 the marvelous stupidity of the South in clinging to it with such 
 pertinacity, Horace Greeley had always been keenly alive. But ho 
 bad rather deprecated the agitation of the subject at the North, 
 as tending to the needless irritation of the southern mind, as more 
 likely to rivet than to unloose the shackles of the slave. It was 
 not till slavery became aggressive, it was not till the machinery of 
 politics was moved but with the' single purpose of adding slave 
 States to the Union, slave members to Congress, that the Tribune 
 
BURNING OF THE TRIBUNE BUILDING. 251 
 
 assumed an attitude of hostility to the South, and its pet Bkmder. 
 To a southerner who wrote about this time, inquiring what right tli« 
 North had to intermeddle with slavery, the Tribune replied, that 
 "when we find tlie Union on the brink of a most unjust and rapa- 
 cious war, instigated wholly (as is officially proclaimed) by a deter- 
 mination to u})hold and fortify Slavery, then we do not see how it 
 can longer be rationally disputed that the North has much, very 
 much, to do with Slavery. If we may be drawn in to fight for it, 
 it would be hard indeed that we should not be allowed to talk of 
 it." Thenceforth, the Tribuue fought the aggressions of the slave 
 power, inch by inch. 
 
 The Tribune continued on its way, triumphant in spite of the 
 loss of the election, till the morning of Feb. 5th, 1845, when it had 
 the common New York experience of being burnt out. It shall 
 tell its own story of the catastroi)he : 
 
 "At 4 o'clock, yesterday morning, a boy in our employment entered our 
 publication ofBcc, as usual, and kindled a fire in the stove for the day, after 
 which ho returned to the mailing-room below, and resumed folding news- 
 papers. Half an hour afterward a clerk, who slept on the counter of the publi- 
 cation ofiBce, was awoke by a sensation of heat, and found the room in flames. 
 He escaped with a slight scorching A hasty effort was made by two or three 
 persons to extinguish the fire by casting water upon it, but the fierce wind 
 then blowing ru.^hed in as the doors were opened, and drove the flames through 
 the building with inconceivable rapidity. Mr. Graham and our clerk, Robert M. 
 Strcbeiph, were sleeping in the second story, until awakened by the roar of the 
 flames, their room being full of smoke and fire. The door and stairway being 
 on fire, they escaped with only their night-clothes, by jumping from a rear 
 window, each losing a gold watch, and Mr. Graham nearly $500 in cash, which 
 was in his pocket book under his pillow. Robert was somewhat cut in the 
 face, on striking the ground, but not seriously. In our printing-office, Mia. 
 story, two compositors were at work making up the Weekly Tribune for the 
 press, and had barely time to escape before the stairway was in flames. In 
 the basement our pressmen were at work on the Daily Tribune of the morn- 
 ing, and had printed about three-fourths of the edition. The balance of course 
 went with everything else, including a supply of paper, and thfl Weekly Tri- 
 bune, printed on one side. A few books were hastily caught up and saved, but 
 nothing else — not even the daily form, on which the pressmen were working 
 So complete a destruction of a daily newspaper ofiice was never known. From 
 the editorial rooms, not a paper was saved; and, besides ail the editor's own 
 
252 THK TRIBLAiS CONTINUES. 
 
 manuscripts, correspondence, and collection of valuable books, s;ine manu 
 scripts belonging to friends, of great value to them, are gone. 
 
 " Our loss, so far as money can replace it, is about $18,000, of which $IO,OOC 
 was covered by insurance. The loss of property which insurance would not 
 cover, we feel more keenly. If our mail-books come out whole from our Sala- 
 mander safe, now buried among the burning ruins, wo shall be gratefully 
 content. 
 
 " It is usual on such occasions to ask, ' Why were you not fully insured "?' 
 It was impossible, from the nature of our business, that we should be so ; and 
 no man could have imagined that such an establishment, in which men were 
 constantly at work night and day, could be wholly consumed by fire. There 
 has not been another night, since the building was put up, when it could have 
 been burned down, even if deliberately fired for that purpose. But when this 
 fire broke out, under it strong gale and snow-storm of twenty-four hours' con- 
 tinuance, which had rendered the streets impa.ssable, it was well-nigh impos- 
 sible to drag an engine at all. Some of them could not be got out of their 
 houses ; others were dragged a few rods and then given up of necessity ; and 
 those which reached the fire found the nearest hydrant frozen up, and only to 
 be opened with an axe. Meantime, the whole building was in a blaze." 
 
 The mail books were saved iu the ' roasted Herring.' The pro- 
 prietors of the morning papers, even those most inimical, editorial- 
 ly, to the Tribune, placed their superfluous materials at its disposal. 
 An office was hired temporarily. Type was borrowed and bought. 
 All hands worked ' with a will.' The paper appeared the next 
 morning at the usual hour, and the number was one of tlie best of 
 that volume. In three months, the oflSce was rebuilt on improved 
 plans, and provided with every facility then known for the issue of 
 a daily paper. These were The Tribune's ' Reflections over the Fire,' 
 published a few days after its occurrence: 
 
 " We have been called, editorially, to scissor out a great many fires, both 
 small and great, and have done so with cool philosophy, not reflecting how 
 much to some one man the little paragraph would most assuredly mean. The 
 late complete and summary burning up of our office, licked up clean as it was 
 by the red flames, in a few hours, has taught us a lesson on this head. Aside 
 from all pecuniary loss, how great is the suffering produced by a fire ! A hun- 
 dred little articles of no use to any one save the owner, things that people 
 would look at day after day, and see nothing in, that we ourselves have con- 
 templated with cool indifference, now that they are irrevocably destroyed, 
 come up in the shape of reminiscences, and seem as if they had been worth 
 their weight in gold. 
 
MARGARET FULLER. 25£ 
 
 •' Wo would not indulge in unnecessary sentiment, but even the old desk a( 
 which we siit, the ponderous inkstand, the fniuiliar faces of files of Correspond- 
 ence the choice collection of pamphlets, the unfinished essay, the charts by 
 which we steered — can they all have vanished, never more to be seen 1 Truly 
 your firo makes clean work, and is, of all executive otficors, super-eminent. 
 Perhaps that last choice batch of letters may be somewhere on file ; we are 
 almost tempted to cry, ' Devil ! find it up !' Poh ! it is a mere cinder now; 
 
 some 
 
 '• ' I'nlhonis deep my loiter lies ; 
 Of its lines Is tiiKlor made.' 
 
 " No Arabian tale can cradle a wilder fiction, or show better how altogether 
 illusory life is. Those solid walls of brick, those five decent stories, thoso 
 steep and diflicult stairs, the swinging doors, the Siinctum, scene of many a 
 deep political drama, of many a pathetic tale, utterly whiffed out, as one sum- 
 marily snutfs out a spermaceti on retiring for the night. And all perfectly 
 true. 
 
 " One always has some private satisfaction in his own particular misery 
 Consider what a night it was that burnt us out, that wo were conquered by 
 the elements, went up in flames heroically on tho wildest, windiest, stormiest 
 night these dozen years, not by any fault of human enterprise, but fairly con- 
 quered by stress of weather ; — there was a great flourish of trumpets at all 
 events. 
 
 " And consider, above all, that Salamander safe ; how, after all, the firo, as- 
 sisted by the elements, only came oft" second best, not being able to reduce that 
 safe into ashes. That is the streak of sunshine through the dun wreaths of 
 smoke, the combat of human ingenuity against the desperate encounter of tho 
 seething heat. But thoso boots, and Webster's Dictionary — well ! we were 
 handsomely whipped there, wo acknowledge." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 Her wrilinsis in Uie Tribune — She resides with Mr. <ircolcy — His narrative — Dietcnc 
 Pparriii),'— Her maimer of writing— WoM)an's Rights— ller generosity— Her indo- 
 peiideiico— Her love of children- Margaret and PicUie— Her opinion of Mr. Uree- 
 loy— Death of Pickle. 
 
 Makoakkt Fuller's first article in the Tribune, a revicAV of Em- 
 erson's Essays, appeared on tho seventli of December, 1844; her 
 
254 MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 last, "Farewell to New York," was puLllslied August 1st, 1846, on 
 the eve of lier departure for Europe. From Europe, however, she 
 sent many letters to the Tribune, and continued occasionally, though 
 at* ever-increasing intervals, to correspond with the paper down 
 nearly to tlie time of her embarkation for her native land in 1850. 
 
 During the twenty months of lier connection with the Tribune, 
 she wrote, on an average, three articles a week. Many of them 
 were long and elaborate, extending, in several instances, to three and 
 four columns ; and, as they were Essays upon authors, rather than 
 Eeviews of Books, she indulged sparingly in extract. Among her 
 literary articles, we observe essays upon Milton, Shelley, Carlyle, 
 George Sand, the countess Uahn Hahn, Sue, Balzac, Chailes Wes- 
 ley, Longfellow, Richter, and other magnates. She wn-te, also, a 
 few musical and dramatic critiques. Among her general contril)U- 
 tions, were essays upon the Rights, "Wrongs, and Duties of Women, 
 a defense of the 'Irish Character,' articles upon 'Christmas,' 'New 
 Year's Day,' 'French Gayety,' 'tlie Poor Man,' 'the Rich Man/ 
 'What fits a man to be a Voter' — genial, frosh, and suggestive 
 essays all. Her defense of the Irisli character was very toncliiug 
 and just. Her essay on George Sand was discriminating and cour- 
 ageous. She dared to speak of her as 'one of the best exponents 
 of the difficulties, the errors, the weaknesses, and regenerative 
 powers of the present epoch.' "Let no man," continued Miss Ful- 
 ler, " confound the bold unreserve of Sand with that of those wlio 
 have lost the feeling of beauty and the love of good. With a bleed- 
 ing heart and bewildered feet she nought the Truth, and if she lost 
 the way, returned as soon as convinced she had done so, but she 
 would never hide the fact that she had lost it. ' What God knows 
 I dare avow to man,' seems to be her motto. It is impossible not 
 to see in her, not only the distress and doubts of the intellect, but 
 the temptations of a sensual nature ; but we see, too, the courage of 
 a hero, and a deep capacity for religion. The mixed nature, too, 
 fits her peculiarly to speak to men so diseased as men are at present. 
 They feel she knows their ailment, and, if she finds a cure, it will 
 really be by a specific remedy." 
 
 To giie George Sand her due, ten years ago, required more cour- 
 Bge in a reviewer than it would now to withhold it. 
 
 Margaret Fuller, in the knowledge of literature, was the most 
 
SHE RESIDES WITH MR. GREELET. '40C 
 
 learned woman of her cotintry. perhaps of her time. Her under- 
 standing was greater than her gift. She conid appreciate, no/ 
 create. She was the noblest victim of that modern error, which 
 makes Education and Book-knowledge synonymous terms. Her 
 brain was terribly stimulated in childhood by the study of works 
 utterly unfit for the nourishment of a child's mind, and in after life, 
 it was further stimulated by the adulation of circles who place the 
 highest ralue upon Intelligence, and no value at all upon Wisdom. 
 It cost her the best years of her life to unlearn the errors, and to 
 overcome the mental habits of her earlier years. But she did it. 
 Her triumph was complete. She attained modesty, serenity, disin- 
 terestedness, self-control. "The spirit in which we work,'' says 
 Goethe, '• is the highest matter." What charms and blesses the 
 reader of Margaret Fuller's essays, is not the knowledge they 
 convey, nor the understanding they reveal, .but tlie inefi:abl y sweet, 
 benign, tenderly humane and serenely high spirit which they 
 breathe in every paragraph and phrase. 
 
 During a part of the time of her connection with the Tribune, 
 Miss Fuller resided at Mr. Greeley's house, on the banks of the East 
 river, opposite the lower end of Blackwell's island. '• This place," 
 she wrote, "is to me entirely charming; it is so completely in ths 
 country, and all around is so bold and free. It is two miles or raoio 
 from the thickly-settled parts of Xew York, but omnibuses and cars 
 give me constant access to the city, and, while I can readily see 
 what and whom I will, I can command time and retirement. Stop- 
 ping on the Harlem road, you enter a lane nearly a quarter of a 
 mile long, and going by a small brook and pond that locks in the 
 place, and ascending a slightly rising ground, get sight of the house, 
 which, old-fashioned and of mellow tint, fronts on a flower-garden 
 filled with shrubs, large vines, and trim bos borders. On both 
 «des of the house are beautiful trees, standing fair, full-grown, and 
 clear. Passing through a wide hall, you come out upon a piaz- 
 za, stretching the whole length of the house, where one can walk in 
 all weathers. * * The. beauty here, seen by moonlight, is truly 
 transporting. I enjoy it greatly, and the (jenius loci receives me as 
 to a home." 
 
 Mr. Greeley has written a singularly interesting account of the 
 rise and progress of his friendship with Margaret Fuller, which was 
 
256 MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 published, a lew years ago, in her fascinating memoirs, A mau es, 
 in a degree, tliat whicli he loves to praise; and the narrative re- 
 ferred to, tells much of Margaret Fuller, but more of Horace Gree- 
 ley. Whatever else should be omitted from this volume, tliat should 
 not be; and it is, according!}-, presented here without abridgment. 
 
 " My first acquaintance with Margaret Fuller was made through the pages 
 of The Dial. The lofty range and rare ability of that work, and its un- 
 American richness of culture and ripeness of thought, naturally filled the 
 'fit audience, though few,' with a high estimate of those who were known as 
 its conductors and principal writers. Yet I do not now remember that any 
 article, which strongly impressed me, was recognized as from the pen of its 
 female editor, prior to the appearance of 'Tlie Great Law-suit,' afterward 
 matured into the volume more distinctively, yet not quite accurately, entitled 
 ' Woman in the Nineteenth Century.' I think this can hardly have failed to 
 make a deep impression on the mind of every thoughtful reader, as the pre- 
 duction of an original, vigorous and earnest mind. 'Summer on the Lakes,' 
 which appeared some time after that essay, though before its expansion into a 
 book, struck me as less ambitious in its aim, but more graceful and delicate 
 in its execution ; and as one of the clearest and most graphic delineations evei 
 given of the Great Lakes, of the Prairies, and of the receding barbarism, and 
 the rapidly -advancing, but rude, repulsive semi-civilization, which were con- 
 tending with most unequal forces for the possession of those rich lands. I 
 still consider ' Summer on the Lakes' unequaled, especially in its pictures of 
 the Prairies, and of the sunnier aspects of Pioneer life. 
 
 " Yet, it was the suggestion of Mrs. Greeley — who had spent some weeks 
 of successive sensnns in or near Boston, and who had there made the personal 
 acquaintance of Miss Fuller, and formed a very high estimate of and warm at- 
 tachment for her — that induced me, in the autumn of 1844, to offer her terms, 
 which were accepted, for her assistance ia the literary department ot The 
 Tribune. A home in my family was included in the stipulation. I was my 
 self barely acquainted with her when she thus came to reside with us, and 1 
 did not fully appreciate her nobler qualities for some months afterward 
 Though we were members of the same household, we scarcely met save al 
 breakfast; and my time and thoughts were absorbed in duties and cares, 
 which left me little leisure or inclination for the amenities of social inter- 
 course. Fortune seemed to delight in placing us two in relations of friendly 
 antagonism — or rather, to develop all possible contrasts in our ideas and social 
 habits. She was naturally inclined to lu.^ury, and a good appearance before 
 the world. My pride, if I had any, delighted in bare walls and rugged fare. 
 She was addicted to strong tea and coffee, both of which I rejected and con- 
 demned, even in the most homeopathic dilutions; while, my general healtb 
 
MR. Greeley's narrative. 257 
 
 being sound, and hers sadly impaired, I could not fail to find in her dietectio 
 habits the causes of her almost habitual illness ; and once, while we were 
 still barely acquainted, when she came to the breakfast-table with a very 
 severe headache, I was tempted to attribute it to her strong potations of the 
 Chinese leaf the night before. She told me quite frankly that she ' declined 
 being lectured on the food or beverage she saw fit to take,' which was but 
 reasonable in one who had arrived p.t her maturity of intellect and fixedness 
 of habits. So the subject was thenceforth tacitly avoided between us ; but, 
 though words were suppressed, looks and involuntary gestures could not st 
 well be ; and an utter divergency of views on this and kindred themes created 
 a perceptible distance between us. 
 
 " Her earlier contributions to The Tribune were not her best, and I did not 
 at first prize her aid ho highly as I afterward learned to do. She wrote always 
 freshly, vigorously, but not always clearly; for her full and intimate ac- 
 quaintance with continental literature, especially German, seemed to have 
 marred her felicity and readiness of expression in her mother tongue. While 
 I never met another woman who conversed more freely or lucidly, the at- 
 tempt to commit her thoughts to paper seemed to induce a singular em- 
 barrassment and hesitation. She could write only when in the vein, and 
 this needed often to be waited for through several days, while the occa- 
 sion sometimes required an immediate utterance. The new book must be re- 
 viewed before other journals had thoroughly dissected and discussed it, else 
 the ablest critnque would command no general attention, and perhaps be, by 
 the greater number, unread. That the writer should wait the flow of inspira- 
 tion, or at least the recurrence of elasticity of spirits and relative health of 
 body, will not seem unreasonable to the general reader ; but to the inveterate 
 hack-horse of the daily press, accustomed to write at any time, on any sub- 
 ject, and with a rapidity limited only by the physical ability to form the re- 
 quisite pen-ptrokes, the notion of waiting for a brighter day, or a happier 
 frame of mind, appears fantastic and absurd. He would as soon think of 
 waiting for a change in the moon. Hence, while I realized that her contri- 
 butions evinced rare intellectual wealth and force, I did not value them as I 
 should have done had they been written more fluently and promptly. They 
 often seemed to make their appearance ' a day after the fair.' 
 
 " One other point of tacit antagonism between us may as well be noted. 
 Margaret was always a most earnest, devoted champion of the Emancipation 
 of Women from their past and present condition of inferiority, to an inde- 
 pendence of Men. She demanded for them the fullest recognition of Social 
 and Political Equality with the' rougher sex ; the freest access to all stations, 
 professions, employments, which are open to any. To this demand I heartily 
 acceded. It seemed to me, however, that her clear perceptions of abstract 
 right were often overborne, in practice, by the influence of education and 
 habit ; that while she demanded absolute equality for Woman, she exacted 3 
 
258 MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 defaronce and courtesy from men to women, as women, which was entirely in- 
 consistent with that requirement. In my view, the equalizing theory can bo 
 enforced only by ignoring the habitual discrimination of men and women, as 
 forming separate c/asses, and regarding all alike as simply persons, — as hu- 
 man beings. So long as a lady shall deem herself in need of some gentleman's 
 Arm to conduct her properly out of a dining or ball-room, — so long as she 
 ehall consider it dangerous or unbecoming to walk half a mile alone by night, 
 — I cannot see how the ' Woman's Rights ' theory is ever to be anything more 
 than a logically defensible abstraction. In this view Margaret did not at all 
 concur, and the diversity was the incitement to much perfectly good-natured, but 
 nevertheless sharpish sparring between us. Whenever she said or did anything 
 implying the usual demand of Woman on the courtesy and protection of Man- 
 hood, I was apt, before complying, to look her in the face and exclaim with 
 marked emphasis, — quoting from her ' Woman in the Nineteenth Century,' — 
 ' Let them be sea-captains if they will !' Of course, this was given and 
 received as raillery, but it did not tend to ripen our intimacy or quicken my 
 esteem into admiration. Though no unkind word ever passed between us, 
 nor any approach to one, yet we two dwelt for months under the same roof, as 
 scarcely more than acquaintances, meeting once a day at a common board, and 
 having certain business relations with each other. Personally, I regarded her 
 rather as my wife's cherished friend than as my own, possessing many lofty 
 qualities and some prominent weaknesses, and a good deal spoiled by the un- 
 measured flattery of her little circle of inordinate admirers. • For myself, 
 burning no incense on any human shrine, I half-consciously resolved to ' keep 
 my eye-beam clear,' and escape the fascination which she seemed to exert 
 over the eminent and cultivated persons, mainly women, who came to our 
 out-of-the-way dwelling to visit her, and who seemed generally to regard her 
 with a strangely Oriental adoration. 
 
 " But as time wore on, and I became inevitably better and better acquaint- 
 ed with her, I found myself drawn, almost irresistibly, into the general cur- 
 rent. I found that her faults and weaknesses were all superficial and obvious 
 fo the most casual, if undazzled, observer. They rather dwindled than ex- 
 panded upon a fuller knowledge ; or rather, took on new and brighter aspects 
 m the light of her radiant and lofty soul. I learned to know her as a most 
 fearless and unselfish champion of Truth and Human Good at all hazards, 
 /eady to be their standard-bearer through danger and obloquy, and if need be, 
 iheir martyr. I think few have more keenly appreciated the material goods 
 of life, — Rank, Riches, Power, Luxury, Enjoyment ; but I know none who 
 would have more cheerfully surrendered them all, if the well-being of our 
 Race could thereby have been promoted. I have never met another in 
 whom the inspiring hope of Immortality was so strengthened into profound- 
 esl conviction. She did not believe in our future and unending existence,— 
 she kneic it, and 'ived ever in the broad glare of its morning twilight. Will 
 
HER WRITINGS. 259 
 
 a limited income and liberal wants, she was yet geneious beyond the bounds 
 of reason. Had the gold of California been all her own, shr would have dis- 
 bursed nine-tenths of it in eager and well-directed efforts to stay, or at least 
 diminish, the flood of human misery. And it is but fair to state, that the lib- 
 erality she evinced was fully paralleled by the liberality she experienced at 
 the hands of others. Had she needed thousands, and made her wants known 
 she had friends who would have cheerfully supplied her. I think few persons, 
 in their pecuniary dealings, have experienced and evinced more of the bettef 
 qualities of human nature than -Margaret Fuller. She seemed to inspire 
 those who approached her with that generosity which was a part of her 
 nature. 
 
 " Of her writings I do not propose to speak critically. I think most of her 
 contributions to the Tribune, while she remained with us, were characterized by 
 a directness, terseness, and practicality, which are wanting in some of her 
 earlier productions. Good judges have confirmed my own opinion, that while 
 her essays in the Dial are more elaborate and ambitious, her review.s in the 
 Tribune are far better adapted to win the favor and sway the judgment of the 
 great majority of readers. But, one characteristic of her writings 1 feel 
 bound to commend, — their absolute truthfulness. She never asked how this 
 would sound, nor whether that would do, nor what would be the effect of say- 
 ing anything ; but simply, ' Is it the truth 1 Is it such as the public should 
 know?' And if her judgment answered, 'Yes,' she uttered it; no matter 
 what turmoil it might excite, nor what odium it might draw down on her own 
 head. Perfect conscientiousness was an unfailing characteristic of her literary 
 efforts. Even the severest of her critiques, — that on Longfellow's Poems, — 
 for which an impulse in personal pique has been alleged, I happen with cer- 
 tainty to know had no such origin. When I first handed her the book to re- 
 view, she excused herself, assigning the wide divergence of her views of Po- 
 etry from those of the author and his school, as her reason. She thus induced 
 me to attempt the task of reviewing it myself But day after day sped by, 
 and I could find no hour that was not absolutely required for the performance 
 of some duty that would not bo put off, nor turned over to another. At length 
 I carried the book back to her in utter despair of ever finding an hour in 
 which even to look through it ; and, at my renewed and earnest request, she 
 reluctantly undertook its discussion. The statement of these facts is but an 
 act of ju.=tice to her memory. 
 
 " Profoundly religious, — though her creed was, at once, very broad and very 
 ehort, with a genuine love for inferiors in social position, whom she was habit- 
 ually studying, by her counsel <and teachings, to elevate and improve, — she 
 won the confidence and affection of those who attracted her, by unbounded 
 fympathy and trust. She probably knew the cherished secrets of more hearts 
 than any one else, because she freely imparted her own. With a full share 
 both of intellectual and of family pride, she pre-eminently recognized and re- 
 
260 MARGARET FULLER, 
 
 sponded to jhe essential brotherhood of all human kind, ' jd needed br <o 
 know that a fellow-being required her counsel or assistanc;, to render her, jot 
 merely willing, but eager to impart it. Loving ease, lu::ury, and the world's 
 good opinion, she stood ready to renounce them all, at the call of pity or of 
 duty. I think no one, not radically averse to the whole system of domestia 
 servitude, would have treated servants, of whatever class, with such uniform 
 and thoughtful consideration, — a regard which wholly merged their factitious 
 condition in their antecedent and permanent humanity. I think few servants 
 ever lived weeks with her, who were not dignified and lastingly benefited by 
 her influence and her counsels They might be at first repelled, by what 
 seemed her too stately manner and exacting disposition, but they soon learned 
 to esteem and love her. 
 
 "I have known few women, and scarcely another maiden, who had th? 
 heart and the courage to speak with such frank compassion, in mixed circles 
 of the most degraded and outcast portion of the sex. The contemplation of 
 their treatment, especially by the guilty authors of their ruin, moved her to a 
 calm and mournful indignation, which she did not attempt to suppress nor 
 control. Others were willing to pity and deplore; Margaret was more inclined 
 to vindicate and to redeem. She did not hesitate to avow that on meeting 
 some of these abused, unhappy sisters, she had been surprised to find them 
 scarcely fallen morally below the ordinary standard of Womanhood, — realiz- 
 ing and loathing their debasement; anxious to escape it; and only repelled 
 by the sad consciousness that for them sympathy and society remained only so 
 long as they should persist in the ways of pollution. Those who have read 
 her ' Woman,' may remember some daring comparisons therein suggested be- 
 tween these Pariahs of society and large classes of their respectable sisters ; 
 and that was no fitful expression, — no sudden outbreak, — but impelled by her 
 most deliberate convictions. I think, if she had been born to large fortune, a 
 house of refuge for all female outcasts desiring to return to the ways of 
 Virtue, would have been one of her most cherished and first realized concep- 
 tions. 
 
 " Her love of children was one of her most prominent characteristics. The 
 pleasure she enjoj'ed in their society was fully counterpoised by that she im- 
 parted. To them she was never lofty, nor reserved, nor mystical ; for no one 
 had ever a more perfect faculty for entering into their sports, their feelings, 
 their enjoyments. She could narrate almost any story in language level to 
 their capacities, and in a manner calculated to bring out their hearty and often 
 boisterously-expressed delight. She possessed marvelous powers of observa- 
 tion and imitation or mimicry ; and, had she been attracted to tho stage, 
 would have been the first actress America has produced, whether ia tragedy oi 
 comedy, Her faculty of mimicking was not needed to commend her to tne 
 hearts of children, but it had its effect in increasing the fascinations of her 
 genial nature and her heartfelt joy in their society. To amuse and instruct them 
 
MARGARET AND PICKIE. ' 261 
 
 iras an achievement for which she would readily forego any personal object ; 
 and her intuitive perception of the toys, games, stories, rhymes, Ac, best 
 adapted to arrest and enchain their attention, was unsurpassed. Between her 
 and my only child, then living, who was eight months old when she came to 
 us, and something over two years when she sailed for Europe, tendrils of af- 
 fection gradually intertwined themselves, which I trust Death has not severed, 
 but rather multiplied and strengthened. She became his teacher, playmate, 
 and monitor ; and ho requited her with a prodigality of love and admiration. 
 
 " I shall not soon forget their meeting in my office, after some weeks' sepa- 
 ration, ju.^t before she left us forever. Ilis mother had brought him in from 
 the country, and left him asleep on my sofa, while she was absent making 
 purchases, &r>d he had rolled off and hurt himself in the fall, waking with the 
 shock in a frenzy of anger, just before Margaret, hearing of his arrival, ru.fhed 
 into the office to find him. I was vainly attempting to soothe him as she en- 
 tered ; but he was running from one end to the other of the office, crying pas- 
 sionately, and refusing to be pacified. She hastened to him, in perfect confi- 
 dence that her endearments would calm the current of his feelings, — that the 
 sound of her well-remembered voice would banish all thought of his pain, — 
 and that another moment would see him restored to gentleness ; but, half- 
 wakened, he did not heed her, and probably did not even realize who it was 
 that caught him repeatedly in her arms and tenderly insisted that he should 
 restrain himself. At last she desisted in despair ; and, with the bitter tears 
 streaming down her face, observed : — ' Pickie, many friends have treated me 
 unkindly, but no one had ever the power to cut me to the heart as you have !' 
 Being thus let alone, he soon came to himself, and their mutual delight in the 
 meeting was rather heightened by the momentary estrangement. 
 
 " They had one more meeting ; the last on earth ! ' Aunty Margaret' was 
 to embark for Europe on a certain day, and ' Pickie' was brought into the city 
 to bid her farewell. They met this time also at my office, and together we 
 thence repaired to the ferry-boat, on which she was returning to her residence 
 in Brooklyn to complete hor preparations for the voyage. There they took a 
 tender and affecting leave of each other. But soon his mother called at the 
 office, on her way to the departing ship, and wo were easily persuaded to ac- 
 company her thither, and say farewell once more, to the manifest satisfaction 
 of both Margaret and the youngest of her devoted friends. Thus they parted, 
 never to meet again in time. She sent him messages and presents repeatedly 
 from Europe ; and he, when somewhat older, dictated a letter in return, which 
 was joyfully received and acknowledged. When the mother of our great- 
 souled friend spent some days with us nearly two years afterward, ' Pickie' 
 talked to her often and lovingly of ' Aunty JMargaret,' proposing that they two 
 should ' take a boat and go over and see her,' — for, to his infantile conception, 
 the low coast of Long Island, visible just across the East River, was that Eu- 
 rope to wh'ch she had sailed, and where she was unaccountably detained so 
 
262 MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 long. Alas ! a far longer and more ailventurous journey was required to re- 
 unite those loving souls ! The l-tli of July, 1949, saw hira stricken down 
 from health to death, by the relentless cholera ; and my letter, announcing 
 that calamity, drew from her a burst of passionate sorrow, such as hardly any 
 bereavement but the loss of a very near relative could have impelled. An- 
 other year had just ended, when a calamity, equally sudden, bereft a wide 
 circle of her likewise, with her husband and infant son. Little did I fear, 
 when I bade her a confident Uood-by, on the deck of her outward-bound ship, 
 that the sea would close over her earthly remains ere we should meet again ; 
 far loss that the light of my eyes and the cynosure of my hopes, who then 
 bade her a tenderer and sadder farewell, would precede her on the dim p.ath- 
 way to that ' Father's house' whence is no returning ! Ah, well ! God is above 
 all, and gracious alike in what lie conceals and what He discloses ; — benignant 
 and bounteous, as well when He reclaims as when lie bestows. In a few years, 
 at farthest, our loved and lost ones will welcome us to their home." 
 
 Mai-garet Fuller, on her i):irt, was fully sensible of the merits of 
 him who has so touchiiigly embalmed her memory. " Mr. Greeley," 
 she wrote in a private letter, " is a man of genuine excellence, hou- 
 orablo, benevolent, and of an uncorrupted disposition. He is saga- 
 cious, and, in his Avay, of even great abilities. In modes of life and 
 manner he is a man of the people, and of the American people." 
 And again : " Mr. Greeley is in numy ways very interesting for me 
 to know. He teaches me things, which my own influence on those 
 who have hitherto approached me, has prevented me from learning. 
 In our business and friendly relations, we are on terms of solid 
 good-will and mutual respect. "With the exception of my own 
 mother, I think him the most disinterestedly generous person I have 
 ever known." And later she writes: "You have heard that the 
 Tribune Office was burned to the ground. For a day I thought it 
 must make a difference, but it has served only to increase my admi- 
 ration for Mr. Greeley's smiling courage. Ue has really a strong 
 character." 
 
 In another letter, written at Rome in 1849, th^re is another allu- 
 sion to Mr. Greeley and his darling boy. " Receiving," she said, " a 
 few days since, a packet of letters from America, I opened them 
 with more feeling of hope and good cheer, than for a long time 
 past. The first words that met my eye were these, in the hand of 
 Mr. Greeley: 'Ah, Margaret, the world grows dark with us! You 
 grieve, for Rome is fallen ; I mourn, fur Pickle is dead.' 
 
EDITORIAL REPAUTKKS. 203 
 
 "I li.avc slic'd rivors of tears over tlio inexpressibly alFcctiiig letter 
 thus begun. One would think I might have become familiar enoiigh 
 with images of death and destruction ; yet somehow tlie image of 
 Pickie's little dancing figure, lying, stifl" and stark, between his par- 
 ents, has made me weep more than all else. There was little hope 
 be could do justice to himself, or lead a happy life in ho i)erplexed 
 a world ; but never was a character of richer capacity, — never a 
 more charming child. To mo he was most dear, and would always 
 have been so. Had he become stained with eartlily faults, I could 
 never have forgotten what he was when fresh from the soul's home, 
 and what he was to me when my soul pined fur sympathy, jniro 
 and unalloyed." 
 
 A few mouths after these words were written, Margaret Fuller 
 saic her native shores; but she was destined never to tread them 
 again. The vessel in which she was a passenger was wrecked on 
 tlwi coast of Long Island. The body of lier infant son was washed 
 on shore, but she and her husband found dcatlj, burial, requieu), all 
 in the deep. 
 
 CHAPTEll XXI. 
 
 E D n^ O 11 I A L 11 10 1' A 11 T E E S . 
 
 At war with all the world— The Bpiirit of the Tribune — Retorts vituperative — The Tri- 
 bune and Dr. Polls— Some prize tructs su^'gostotl— An iitlicisl's oath — A word for 
 domestics- Irish Democracy — The inodi.'rn drama — Hit at Dr. Hawks— Dissolution 
 of llie Union— Dr. rranklin's story — A Picture for Polk— Cliarles Dickeiw and 
 Copyright— (;lmrge of Malignant falsehood— Preaching and Practice— Col. Webb 
 govcrcly hit— llosllliiy to the .Mexican war— Violence incited- A few sparks— The 
 course of tlie Tribune— Wager with the Herald. 
 
 The years 1845, 1846, and 1847, were emphatically the fighting 
 years of the New York Tribune. If it was not at war with all 
 the world, all the world seemed to be at war with it, and it was 
 kept constantly on the defensive. With the 'democratic' press, of 
 course, it could not be at peace. Tlie whig press of the city de- 
 nounced It, really because it was immovably prosperous, ostensibly 
 
204 EDIl'OKIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 on the ground of its I'ourierite and progressive tendencies. Its oppo- 
 sition to capital punishment, the freedom of its reviews, and tiie 
 hospitality it gave to every new thought,' gave oftense to tlje relig- 
 ious press. Its tremendous hostility to the Mexican war excited the 
 aaira^isity of all office-holders and other patriots, inchuling the pres- 
 ident, who made a palpable allusion to the course of the Tribune in 
 one of his messages. There was talk even of mobbing the office, 
 at one of the war meetings in the Park. Its zeal in behalf of Irish 
 repeal alienated the English residents, who naturally liked the 
 'pluck' and independence of the Tribune. Its hostility to the slave 
 power provoked the south, and all but destroyed its southern cir- 
 culation. It offended bigots by giving Thomas Paine his due ; it 
 offended unbelievers by refusing to give him more. Its opposition 
 to the drama, as it is, called forth many a sneer from the papers 
 who have the honor of the drama in their speci;d keeping. Tlie 
 extreme American party abhorred its enmity to Nativism. The 
 extreme Irish party distrusted it, because in sentiment and feeling 
 it was thoroughly Protestant. Tlie extreme liberal party disliked 
 its opposition to their views of marriage and divorce. In a word, 
 if the course of the Tribune had been suggested by a desire to give 
 the greatest offense to the greatest number, it could hardly have 
 made more enemies than it did. 
 
 In the prospectus to the fifth volume, the editor seemed to antici- 
 pate a period of inky war. 
 
 " Our conservatism," he said, " is not of that Chinese tenacity which insists 
 that the bad must be cherished simply because it is old. We insist only that 
 the old must be proved bad and never condemned merely because it is old ; 
 and that, even if defective, it should not be overthrown till something better 
 has been provided to replace it. The extremes of blind, stubborn resistance 
 to change, and rash, sweeping, convulsive innovation, are naturally allies, each 
 paving the way for the other. The supple courtier, the wholesale flatterer of 
 the Despot, and the humble servitor and bepraiser of the dear People, are not 
 two distinct characters, but essentially the same. Thus .believing, we, while 
 we do not regard the judgment of any present majority as infallible, cannot 
 attribute infallibility to any acts or institutes of a past generation, but look un- 
 doubtingly'for successive improvements as Knowledge, Virtue, Philanthropy, 
 Bhall be more and more diiTusod among men. 
 
 ********* 
 
 " Full of error and suffering as the world yet is, wo cannot afford to reject 
 
TnE SPIRIT OF THE TRIBUNE. 265 
 
 anexamined any iilea which proposes to iraprovo the Moral, Intellectual, or 
 Social condition of mankind. Better incur the trouble of testing and explod- 
 ing a thousand fallacies than by rejecting stifle a single beneficent truth. Es- 
 pecially on the vast theme of an improved Organization of Industry, so as to 
 secure constant opportunity and a just recompense to every human being able 
 and willing to labor, we are not and cannot be indifferent. 
 
 "No subject can be more important than this; no improYcment more cer- 
 tain of attainment. The plans hitherto suggested may all prove abortive ; 
 the e.xpcriments hitherto set on foot way all come to nought, (as many of 
 them doubtless will ;) j-et these mistakes shall serve to indicate the true means 
 of improvement, and these experiments shall bring nearer and nearer the 
 grand consummation which they contemplate. The securing of thorough Edu- 
 cation, Opportunity and just Reward to all, cannot be beyond the reach of 
 the nineteenth century. To accelerate it, the Tribune has labored and will 
 labor resolutely and hopefully. Those whose dislike to or distrust of the in- 
 vestigations in this field of human effort impel them to reject our paper, have 
 ample range for a selection of journals more acceptable." 
 
 In the spirit of these words the Tribune was conducted. And 
 every man, in any age, who conducts his life, his newspaper, or his 
 business in that spirit, will be misunderstood, distrnstod and hated, 
 in exact proportion to his fidelity to it. Perfect fidelity, the world 
 will so entirely detest that it will destroy the man who attains to it. 
 The world Avill not submit to be so completelj' put out of counte- 
 nance. 
 
 My task, in this chapter, is to show how the editor of the Tri- 
 bune comported himself when he occupied the position of target- 
 general to the Press, Pulpit, and Stump of the United States. He 
 was not in the slightest degree distressed or alarmed. On the con- 
 trary, I think he enjoyed the position; and, though he handled his 
 enemies without gloves, and called a spade a spade, and had to dis- 
 patch a dozen foeinen at once, and could not pause to select his 
 weapons, yet I can find in those years of warfare no trace of bitter- 
 ness on his part. There is no malice in his satire, no spite in his 
 anger. He seems never so happy as when he is at bay, and is never 
 so funny as when he is repelling a personal assault. I have before 
 me several hundreds of his editorial hits and repartees, some scrioug, 
 more comic, some refuting argument, others exposing Blander, soma 
 merely vituperative, others i ery witty, all extremely readable, 
 
 12 
 
266 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 though the occasions that called them forth have Iv iig passed by. 
 My plan is to select and condense a few of each kind, presenting 
 only the point of each. 
 
 Many of our editor's replies are remarkable chiefly for their ' free 
 and easy' manner, their ignoring of ' editorial dignity.' A specimen 
 or two : 
 
 In reply to a personal attack by Major Noah, of the Union, he 
 begins, " We ought not to notice this old villain again." On another 
 occasion, " "What a silly old joker this last hard bargain of Tylerism 
 is!" On another, "Major Xoah ! why wonH you tell the truth once 
 in a century, for the variety of tlie thing." On another, " And it is 
 by such poor drivel as this that the superannuated renegade from 
 all parties and all principles attempts to earn his forced contribu- 
 tions and 'Official' advertisements! Surely his latest purchasers 
 must despise their worn-out tool, and most heartily repent of their 
 hard bargain." 
 
 Such mild openings as the following are not uncommon : 
 
 "The Journ.al of Commerce is the most self-complacent and dogmatic of 
 all possible newspapers." 
 
 " The villain who makes this charge against me well knows that it is the 
 basest falsehood " 
 
 "We defy the Father of lies himself to crowd more stupendous falsehoods 
 into a paragraph th.an this cont.ains." 
 
 " Mr. Benton ! eiich of the above observations is a deliberate falsehood, and 
 you are an unqualified villain !" 
 
 '' The Express is surely the basest and paltriest of all possible journals." 
 
 " Raving been absent from the city for a few days, I perceive with a pleas- 
 urable surprise on my return that the Express has only perpetrated two jew 
 calumnies upon me of any consequence since Friday evening." 
 
 " 'Epbraiin,' said a grave divine, taking his text from one of the prophets, 
 'is a cake not turned. (Ilosea, vii. 8.) Let us proceed, therefore, brethren, 
 to turn Ephraim — first, inside out; next, back-side before; and, thirdly, 
 'tother end up.' 
 
 •'We are under the imperative necessity of performing on S.amuel of thia 
 day a searching operation like unto that of the parson on Ephraim of old." 
 
 That will suffice for the vituperative. We proceed to those of 
 another description : 
 
THE TRIBUNE AND DH. POTTS. 26'7 
 
 rP.OVOOATION. 
 
 A Sermon by Dr. Potts, denouncing the Tribune as agrarian, &c., 
 reported in the Courier and Enquirer. 
 
 " It is quito probable that we have aoinc readers among the pew-holders 
 of a church so wealthy and fashionable as the Dr.'s, though few, we presume, 
 among divines na well salaried as he is. We will only ask those of our patrons 
 who may obey his command to read for their next Scripture lesson the xxvth 
 Cha|iter of Leviticus, and reflect upon it for an hour or so. We are very sure 
 they will find the exorcise a profitable one, in a sense higher than they will 
 have anticipated. Having then stopped the Tribune, they will meditate at 
 leisure on the abhorrence and execration with which oneof the Hebrew Proph- 
 ets must have regarded any kind of an Agrarian or Anti-Renter ; that is, 
 one opposed to perpetuating and extending the relation of Landlord and 
 Tenant over the whole arable surface of the earth. Perhaps the contempla- 
 tion of a few more passages of Sacred Writ may not be unprofitable in a moral 
 sense — for example : 
 
 " ' Woo unto thorn that join [add] house to house, that lay field to field 
 that there be no place, that they bo placed alone in the midst of the earth.' 
 — Isaiah, v. 8. 
 
 " 'One thing thou lackest : go thy way, .sell whatever thou hast, and give 
 to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven ; and come, take up the 
 the cross, and follow me : 
 
 " 'And Jesus looked round about, and saith unto his disciples, IIow hardly 
 shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God !' — Mark, x. 21-23. 
 
 " ' And all that believed were together, and had all things common ; and 
 sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all, as every man had 
 need.' — Acts, ii. 44, 45. 
 
 " Wo might cite columns of this sort from the Sacred Volume, showing a 
 deplorable lack of Doctors of Divinity in ancient times, to bo employed at 
 83,500 a year in denouncing, in sumptuous, pew-guarded edifices costing 
 875,000 each, all who should be guilty of ' loosening the faith of many in the 
 established order of things.' Alas for their spiritual blindness ! the ancient 
 Prophets — God's Prophets — appear to have slight faith in or reverence for 
 that ' established ordeH themselves ! Their 'schemes' appear to have beon 
 regarded as exceedingly ' disorganizing' and hostile to 'good order' by the 
 spiritual rulers of the people in those-days. 
 
 " That Dr. Potts, pursuing (we trust) the career most congenial to his feel- 
 ings, surrounded by every comfort and luxury, enjoying the best society, and 
 onabled to support and educate his children to the hight of his desires, should 
 be inclined to reprobate all ' nostruma' for the cure of Social evils, and sneer 
 
268 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 at ' labor-saving plans ' of cooking, washing, schooling, &c., is rather deplora' 
 ble than surprising. Were he some poor day-laborer, subsisting his family 
 and paying rent on the dollar a day he could get when the weather permitted 
 and some employer's necessity or caprice gave him a chance to earn it, we be- 
 lieve he would view the subject differently. As to the spirit which can de- 
 nounce by wholesale all who labor in behalf of a Social Reform, in defiance 
 of general obloquy, rooted prejudice, and necessarily serious personal sacri- 
 fices, as enemies of Christianity and Good Morals, and call upon the public to 
 starve them into silence, does it not merit the rebuke and loathiug of every 
 generous mind? Heaven aid us to imitate, though afar off, that Divinest 
 charity which could say for its persecutors and murderers, ' Father, forgive 
 them, for they know not what they do !' 
 
 " We are profoundly conscious that the moral tone and bearing of the Press 
 fall very far beneath their true standard, and that it too often panders to pop- 
 ular appetites and prejudices when it should rather withstand and labor to cor- 
 rect them. W.e, for example, remember having wasted many precious col- 
 umns of this paper, whereby great good might have been done, in the publi- 
 cation of a controversy on the question, 'Can there be a Church without a 
 Bishop T — a controversy unprofitable in its subject, verbose and pointless in its 
 logic, and disgraceful to our common Christianity in its exhibitions of unchar- 
 itable temper and gladiatorial tactics. The Rev. Dr. Potts may also remem- 
 ber that controversy. We ask the Pulpit to strengthen oui '>\vn fallible reso-* 
 lution never to be tempted by any hope of pecuniary profit, (pretty sure to be 
 delusive, as it ought,) into meddling with sach another discreditable per- 
 formance. 
 
 " We do not find, in the Courier's report of this sermon, any censures upon 
 that very large and popularly respectable class of journals which regularly 
 hire out their columns. Editorial and Advertising, for the enticement of their 
 readers to visit grogeries, theaters, horse-races, as we sometimes have thought- 
 lessly done, but hope never, unless through deplored inadvertence, to do again. 
 The difficulty of entirely resisting all temptations to these lucrative vices is so 
 great, and the temptations themselves so incessant, while the moral mischief 
 thence accruing is so vast and palpable, that we can hardly think the Rev. Dr. 
 slurred over the point, while we can very well imagine that his respected dis- 
 ciple and reporter did so. At this moment, when the great battle of Temper- 
 ance against Liquid Poison and its horrible sorceries is convulsing our State, 
 and its issue trembles in the balance, it seems truly incredible that a Doctor 
 of Divinity, lecturing on the iniquities of the Press, can have altogether over- 
 looked this topic. Cannot the Courier from its reporter's notes supply the 
 omission V 
 
 rEOVOOATIOX. 
 
 An advertisement offering a prize of fifty dollars for the best 
 
SOME PRIZE TRACTS SUGGESTED. 209 
 
 tract ( n the Iin propriety of Dancing by members of churcbes, tbo 
 tract to be published by the American Tract Society. 
 
 " The notice copied above suggests to us some other subjects on which we 
 think Tr.acts are needed — subjects which are beginning to attract the thoughts 
 of not a few, and which are, like dancing, of practical moment. Wo would 
 suggest premiums to be offered, as follows : 
 
 " $20 for the best Tract on ' The rightfulness and consistency of a Chris- 
 tian's spending $5,000 to $10,000 a year on the appetites and enjoyments of 
 himself and family, when there are a thousand families within a mile of him 
 who are compelled to live on less than $200 a year. 
 
 " $10 for the best Tract on the rightfulness and Christianity of a Christian's 
 building a house fir the exclusive residence of himself and family, at a cost 
 of $50,000 to $100,000, within sight of a hundred families living in hovels 
 worth less than $100. 
 
 " $5 for the best Tract on the Christianity of building Chnrcbos which cost 
 $100,000 each, in which fwor sinners can only worship on sufferance, and in 
 the most out-of-the-way corners. 
 
 "We would not intimate that these topics are by any means so important as 
 that of Dancing — far from it. The suras we suggest will shield us from that 
 imputation. Yet we think these subjects may also be discus.-ed with profit, 
 and, that there may bo no pecuniary hindrance, we will pay the premiums 
 if the American Tract Society will publish the Tracts." 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 An assertion in the Express, that tlie Tribune bestows "peculiar 
 commendation upon tliat part of the new Constitution which take? 
 away the necessity of believing in a Supreme Hoiug, on the part of 
 him who may be called to swear our lives or property away." 
 
 '"The necessity of believing in a Supremo Being,' in order to be a legal 
 witness, never existed ; but only the necessity of professing to believe it. Now, 
 1 thorough villain who was at the same time an Atheist would be pretty apt 
 to keep to himself a belief, the avowal of which would subject him to legal 
 penalties and popular obloquy, but a sincere honest man, whose mind had be- 
 come confused or clouded with regard to the evidence of a Universal Father, 
 would be very likely to confess his lack of faith, and thereby be disabled from 
 testifying. Such disability deranges the administratiuu of justice and facil 
 itates the escape of the guilty." 
 
270 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 PEOTOOATION. 
 
 An assertion that it is false 2}ride^ that makes domestic service so 
 abhorrent to American girls. 
 
 ^ " You, Madam, who talk so flippantly of the folly or false pride of our girls, 
 have you ever attempted to put yourself in their place and consider the mat- 
 ter? Have you ever weighed in the balance a crust and a garret at home, 
 with better food and lodging in the house of a stranger 7 Have you ever 
 thought of the difference between doing the most arduous and repulsive work 
 for those you love, and who love you, and doing the same in a strange place 
 for those to whom your only bond of attachment is six dollars a month 1 
 Have you ever considered that the words of reproof and reproach, so easy to 
 utter, are very hard to bear, especially from one whose right so to treat you 
 is a thing of cash and of yesterday ? Is the diflference between freedom and 
 service nothing to you 1 How many would you like to have ordering you?" 
 
 PKOVOOATION. 
 
 A vain-glorious claim to pure democracy on the part of a pro- 
 slavery Irish paper. 
 
 :. f LY. 
 
 "We like Irish modesty — it is our own sort — but Irish ideas of Li'erty are 
 not always so thorough and consistent as we could wish them. To hate and 
 resist the particular form of Oppression to which we have been exposed, by 
 which we have suffered, is so natural and easy that we see little merit in it ; 
 to loathe and defy all Tyranny evermore, is what few severe sufferers by Op- 
 pression ever attain to. Ages of Slavery write their impress on the souls of 
 the victims — wo must not blame them, therefore, but cannot stifle our con- 
 sciousness nor suppress our sorrow. It is sad to see how readilj' the great 
 mass of our Irish-born citizens, themselves just escaped from a galling, de- 
 grading bondage, lend themselves to the iniquity of depressing and flouting 
 the down-trodden African Race among us — it was specially sad to see them 
 come up to the polls in squads, when our present State Constitution was adopt- 
 ed, and vote in solid mass against Equal Suffrage to all Citizens, shouting 
 ' Down with the Nagurs ! Let them go back to Africa, where they belong .'' 
 — for such was the language of Adopted Citizens of one or two years' stand 
 ing with regard to men born here, with their ancestors before them for several 
 generations. We learn to hate Despotism and Enslavement more intensely 
 when wo are thus confronted by their ineffaceable impress on the souls of 
 too many of their victims." 
 
THE MODERN DRAMA. 271 
 
 rEOVOCATION. 
 
 Au article ia the Sunday Mercury condemning the Tribune for 
 excluding theatrical criticism. 
 
 REPLY. 
 " The last time but one that we visited a theater — it was from seven to ten 
 years ago — we were insulted by a ribald, buffoon song, in derision of total ab- 
 stinence from intoxicating liquors. During the last season wo understand that 
 Mr. Brougham — whom we arc specially blamed by the Mercury for not help- 
 ing to a crowded benefit — has made a very nice thing of ridiculing Socialism. 
 We doubt whether any great, pervading reform has been effected since there 
 was a stage, which that stage has not ridiculed, misrepresented, and hold up 
 to popular odium. It is in its nature the creature of the mob — that is, of the 
 least enlightened and least earnest portion of the community — and flatters the 
 prejudices, courts the favor, and varnishes the vices of that portion. It bel- 
 lows lustily for Libert}' — meaning license to do as you please — but has small 
 appetite for .self-sacrifice, patient industry, and an unselfish devotion to duty. 
 We fear that we shall not be able to like it, even with its groggeries and assig- 
 nation-rooms shut up— but without this we cannot oven begin." 
 
 I'KOVOOATION. 
 
 A sermon by Dr. Hawks denouncing Socialism in the usual style 
 of well-fed thouglitlessness. 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 "If ' the Socialists,' as a body, were called upon to pronounce upon the pro- 
 priety of talking the property of certain doctors of divinity and dividing it 
 among the mechanics and laborers, to whom they have run reclilessly and 
 heavily in debt, we have no doubt they would vote very generally and heartily 
 in the affirmative." 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 A letter bewailing the threatened dissolution of the Union. 
 
 REPLY. 
 " The dissohdion of the Union would not be the dreadful affair he repre- 
 sents it. It would bo a very absurd act on the p;irt of the seceding party, and 
 would work great inconvenience and embarrassment, especially to the people 
 of the great Mississippi Valley. In time, however, matters would accommo- 
 date themselves to the new political c.rrangeraents, and we should grow as 
 aiany bushels of corn to the acre, and get as many yards of cloth from a bun 
 
273 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 dred pounds of wool, as we now do. The Union is an excellent thing — quite 
 too advantageous to be broken up in an age so u'iA'tarian as this ; but it is 
 possible to exaggerate even its blessings." 
 
 PKOVOCATIOX. 
 
 An article iu a Southern paper recommending the secession of 
 
 the Slave States from the Union. 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 " Dr. Franklin used to tell an anecdote illustrative of his idea of the folly 
 of dueling, substantially thus : A man said to another in some public place, 
 ' Sir, I wish you would move a little away from me, for a disagreeable odor pro- 
 ceeds from you.' 'Sir,' was the stern response, ' that is an insult, and you must 
 fight me !' ' Certainly,' was the quiet reply, ' I will fight you if you wish 
 it ; but I don't see how that can mend the matter. If you kill me, I also shall 
 smell badly ; and if I kill you, you will smell worse than you do now.' 
 
 " We have not yet been able to understand what our Disuuionists, North or 
 South, really e.xpect to gain by dissolving the Union. » * * ' Three valu« 
 able slaves escaped,' do you say ? Will slaves be any less likely to run away 
 when they know that, once across Mason and Dixon's line, they are safe from 
 pursuit, and can never be reclaimed ? ' Every slaveholder is in continual ap- 
 apprehension,' say you ? In the name of wonder, how is Disunion to soothe 
 their nervous excitement ? They ' won't stand it,' eh 1 Have they never 
 heard of getting ' out of the frying-pan into the fire' 1 Do let us hear how 
 Slavery is to be fortified and perpetuated by Disunion !" 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 The excessive ccnjidence of "Whigs iu the election of Henry Clay. 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 " There is an old legend that once on a time all the fo>ks iu the world 
 entered into an agreement that at a specified moment they would give one 
 unanimous shout, just to see what a noise they could make, and what tre 
 mendous effects it would produce. The moment came — everybody was ex 
 pecting to see trees, if not houses, thrown down by the mighty concussion; 
 when lo ! the only sound was made by a dumb old woman, whose tongue waa 
 loosed by the excitement of the occasion. The rest had all stood with mouthi 
 and ears wide open to hear the great noise, and so forgot to make any ! 
 
 "The moral we tru»t our Whig friends everywhere will take to heart." 
 
A PICTL'IIE I'OIi I'OLK. 
 
 273 
 
 J'ltOVOCATIO.V. 
 
 Tiie passufre in Llie PrcHidcut'H Message which condemned thor^ 
 wlio opposed the Mexican war as unpatriotic. 
 
 
 
 "IS THIS WAItr' 
 
 " MoNTEnEY, Oct. 7, 1846. 
 
 " While I was stiitionod with our left win^ in ono of the forts, 
 
 on the evening of the '-Jiiit, I siiw a Mexiciin woman busily on- 
 
 giigeii in ciirr^'ing Ijroad ami water to the wounded inon of hoth 
 
 armies. I saw this ministering angel raise the head of a 
 
 (p'. wounded man, give him water and food, and then carefully 
 Wj bind uj) his wound with a handkerchief she tooit from her own 
 
 I 
 
 head. After having o.xhauated her supplies, she went back to 
 her own hou-o to g<;t more broad and water for olliera. As sho 
 was returning on her mi.shion of mercy, to comfort other wound- 
 ed persons, I hoard the report of a gun, and saw the poor in- 
 nocent creature fall ilead ! I think it was an accidental shot 
 that struck her. I would not bo willing to believe otherwise. Y^ 
 It made me sick at heart, and, turning from the scene, I in- 
 voluntarily riiised niy eyes towards heaven, and thought, great 
 God ! and ia thin IVar / Passing the spot next day, I saw her 
 body still lying there with the bread by her side, and the broken 
 gourd, with a few drops of water still in it— emblems of her 
 errand. We buried her, and while wo were digging hor grave, 
 cannon balls flow around us like hail."— 6'or. Louisville Cour. 
 
 i 
 
 I'ltOVOOATION. 
 
 Ooinphiints of ClwirleH Dickeua' Advocacy of IiiteriuiLioiial Gwy 
 right at public diniiern, 
 
 ItEIT.Y. 
 " We trust ho will not bo deterred from speaking the frank, round truth hj 
 any mistaken courtesy, dinidenco, or misapprehension of public sentiment, 
 lie ught to speaJi out on this matter, for wlu' shall protest again.st robbery 
 
 lO* 
 
274 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 If those wlio are robbed may nof? Here is a man who writes for a living 
 and writes nobly ; and we of this country greedily devour his writings, are 
 entertained and instructed by them, yet refuse so to protect his rights as an 
 author that he can realize a single dollar from all their vast American sale 
 and popularity. Is this right ? Do we look well offering him toasts, compli- 
 ments, and other syllabub, while wo refuse him naked justice? while we 
 Bay that every man may take from him the fruits of his labors without recom- 
 pense or redress ? It does very well in a dinner speech to say that fame and 
 popularity, and all that, are more than sordid gold ; but he has a wife and 
 four children, whom his death may very possibly leave destitute, perhaps 
 dependent for their bread, while publishers, who have grown rich on his 
 writings, roll by in their carriages, and millions who have been instructed 
 by them contribute not one farthing to their comfort. But suppose him rich, 
 if you please, the justice of the case is unaltered. He is the just owner of 
 his own productions as much as though he had made axes or horse-shoes ; and 
 the people who refuse to protect his right, ought not to insult him with the 
 mockery of thriftless praise. Let us be just, and then generous. Good 
 reader ! if you think our guest ought to be enabled to live by and enjoy the 
 fruits of his talents and toil, just put your names to a petition for an Inter- 
 national Copyright Law, and then you can take his hand heartily if it comes 
 in your way, and say, if need be, ' I have done what is in my power to pro- 
 tect you from robbery !' The passage of this act of long-deferred justice will 
 be a greater tribute to his worth and achievements than acres of inflated 
 compliments soaked in hogsheads of champagne." 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 A paragraph recommending a provision /or life for the soldiers 
 disabled in the Mexican war. 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 "Uncle Sam ! you bedazzled old hedge-hog ! don't you see 'glory' is cheap 
 as dirt, only you never get done paying for it ! Forty years hence, your boys 
 will be still paying taxes to support the debt you are now piling up, and the 
 sripples and other pensioners you are now manufacturing. How much more 
 of this will satisfy you ?" 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 An accusation of ' malignant falsehood.' 
 
 REPLY. 
 " There lives not a man who knows the editor of this paper who can be 
 made to believe that we have been guilty of ' malignant falsehood.' 
 
PREACHING AND PRACTICE. 275 
 
 " We seek no controversy with the Sun ; but, since it choo?cs to bo personal, 
 we defy its utmost industry and malice to point out a single act of our life in- 
 consistent with integrity and honor. AVe dare it, in this respect, to do its 
 worst !" 
 
 PKOVOCATION. 
 
 This sentence in the Express : " If tlie editor of the Tribune be- 
 lieved a -word of what he Scays, he would convert his profitable 
 printing establishment into a Fourier common-stock concern." 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 " If our adviser will just point us to any passage, rule, maxim or precept of 
 Fourier (of whom he appears to know so much) which prescribes a pro rata 
 division of proceeds among all engaged in producing them, regardless of abil- 
 ity, efficiency, skill, experience, etc., wo will assent to almost any absurdity 
 he shall dictate. 
 
 ******** 
 
 " As to 'carrying out his theories of Fouricrism,' etc., he (the editor of the 
 Tribune) ha.s expended for this specific purpose some thousands of dollars, and 
 intends to make the same disposition of more as soon as he has it to expend. 
 Whether he ought to be guided by his own judgment or that of the Express 
 man respecting the time and manner of thus testifying his faith, he will con- 
 sider in duo season. He has never had a dollar which was not the fair product 
 of his own downright labor, and for whatever of worldly wealth may accrue 
 to him beyond the needs of those dependent on his efforts he holds himself 
 but the steward of a kind Providence, and bound to use it all as shall seem 
 most conducive to the good of the Human Race. It is quite probable, how- 
 ever, that he will never satisfy the Express that ho is either honest, sincere, 
 or well-meaning, but that is not material. He has chosen, once for all, to an- 
 swer a sort of attack which has become fashionable with a certain class of his 
 enemies, and can hardly be driven to notice the like again." 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 An allusion in the Courier and Enquirer to Mr. Greeley's diet, 
 attire, socialism, philosophy, etc. 
 
 "It is true that the editor of the Tribune chooses mainly (not entirely) 
 vegetable food ; but he never troubles his readers on the subject ; it does not 
 worry them ; why should it concern the Colonel 7 * * * It is hard 
 Cor Philosophy that so humble a man shall be made tx) stand as its oxem- 
 
276 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 plar; while Christianity is personified by the here of the Sunday duel with 
 Hon. Tom. Marshall ; but such luck will happen. 
 
 " As to our personal appearance, it does seem time that we should say some- 
 thing, to stay the flood of nonsense with which the town must by this time ba 
 nauseated. Some donkey a while ago, apparently anxious to assail or annoy 
 the editor of this paper, and not well knowing with what, originated the story 
 of his carelessness of personal appearances ; and since then every blockhead 
 of the same disposition and distressed by a similar lack of ideas, has repeated 
 and exaggerated the foolery ; until from its origin in the Albany Microscope 
 it has sunk down at last to the columns of the Courier and Enquirer, growing 
 more absurd at every landing. Yet all this time the object of this silly rail- 
 lery has doubtless worn better clothes than two-thirds of those who thus as- 
 sailed him — better than any of them could honestly wear, if they paid their 
 debts otherwise than by bankruptcy ; while, if they are indeed more cleanly 
 than he, they must bathe very thoroughly not less than twice a day. The 
 editor of the Tribune is the son of a poor and humble farmer; came to New 
 York a minor, without a friend within 200 miles, less than ten dollars in his 
 pocket, and precious little besides ; he has never had a dollar from a relative, 
 and has for years labored under a load of debt, (thrown on him by others' 
 misconduct and the revulsion of 1837,) which he can now just see to the end 
 of Thenceforth he may be able to make a better show, if deemed essential 
 by his friends ; for himself, he has not much time or thought to bestow on the 
 matter. That he ever affected eccentricity is most untrue ; and certainly no 
 costume he ever appeared in would create such a sensation in Broadway as 
 that James Watson Webb would have worn but for the clemency of Governor 
 Seward. Heaven grant our assailant may never hang with such weight on 
 another Whig Executive ! We drop him." 
 
 (Colonel Webb bad been sentenced to two years' imprisonment 
 for figliting a duel. Governor Seward pardoned him before he had 
 served one day of his term.) 
 
 PKOVOOATION. 
 
 A charge of ' infidelity,' in the Express. 
 
 " The editor of the Tribune has never been anything else than a believer 
 in the Christian Religion, and has for many years been a member of a Chria 
 tian Church. He never wrote or uttered a syllable in favor of Infidelity 
 But truth is lost on the Express, which can never forgive us the 'Infidel- 
 ity' of circulating a good mrny more copies, Daily and Weekly, than are 
 taken of that paper." 
 
COL. WEBB SEVERELt HIT. 277 
 
 PKOVOOATION. 
 
 Letters couiplaining of the TriLuue^s hostility to the Mexican war 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 .< Our faith is Strong and clear that we servo our country best by obeying 
 our Maker in all things, and that Uo requires us to bear open, unequivocal 
 testimony against every iniquity, however specious, and to expose every lying 
 pretense whereby men are instigated to imbrue their hands m each other 8 
 blood We do not believe it possible that our country can be prospered m such 
 a war as this. It may bo victorious ; it may acquire immense accessions of 
 territory ; but these victories, these acquisitions, will prove fearful calamities, 
 by sapping the morals of our people, inflating thorn with pride and corrupting 
 them with the lust of conquest and of gold, and leading them to look to the 
 Commerce of the Indies and the Dominion of the Seas for those substantial 
 blessings which follow only in the wake of peaceful, contented Labor. So sure 
 as the Universe has a Kuler will every acre of territory we acquire by this 
 war prove to our Nation a curse and the source of infinite calamities. 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 An attempt on the part of Col. Webb to excite violence against 
 the Tribune and its editor. 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 .« This is no new trick on the part of the Courier. It is not the first nor the 
 second time that it has attempted to excite a mob to violence and outrage 
 against those whom it hates. In July, 1834, when, owing to its ferocious de- 
 nunciations of the Abolitionists, a furious and law-defying mob held virtual 
 possession of our city, assaulting dwellings, churches and persons obnoxious to 
 its hate, and when the Mayor called out the citizens by Proclamation to assist 
 in restoring tranquillity, the Courier (Uth July) proclaimed: 
 
 ."It i= time, for the reputation of the city, and perhaps for the welfare of 
 themselves, that these Abolitionists and Amalgamationists should know the 
 ground on which they stand. They are, we learn, always clamorous with the 
 Police for protection, and demand it as a right inherent to their characters a3 
 American citizens. Now ue tell than that, when they openly and publicly 
 outrage public feeling, they have no right to demand protection from the Peo- 
 ple they thus insult. When they endeavor to disseminate opinions which, if 
 Lnerally imbibed, must infallibly destroy our National Union, and produce 
 scenes of blood and carnage horrid to think of; when they thus preach up 
 treason and murder, the <.gis of the Law indignantly witluiraws Us shelter 
 from ihem 
 
278 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 ' ' When they vilify our religion by classing the Redeemer of the world in 
 the lowest grade of the human species ; when they debase the noble race from 
 which we spring — that race which called civilization into existence, and from 
 which have proceeded all the great, the brave, and the good that have ever 
 lived — and place it in the same scale as the most stupid, ferocious and cow- 
 ardly of the divisions into which the Creator has divided mankind, then they 
 place themselves beyond the pale of all law, for they violate every law, divine 
 and human. Ought not, we ask, our City authorities to make them understand 
 this ; to tell them that they prosecute their treasonable and beastly plans at 
 their own peril ?' 
 
 " Such is the man, such the means, by which he seeks to bully Freemen out 
 of the rights of Free Speech and Free Thought. There are those who cower 
 before his threats and his ruffian appeals to mob violence — here is one who 
 never will ! All the powers of Land-jobbing and Slave-jobbing cannot drive 
 us one inch from the ground we have assumed of determined and open hostil- 
 ity to this atrocious war, its contrivers and abettors. Let those who threaten 
 us with assassination understand, once for all, that we pity while we despise 
 their baseness." 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 The following, from the Express : " For woman we think the 
 fittest place is home, 'sweet home ' — by her own fireside and among 
 her own children ; but the Tribune would put her in trowsers, or 
 on stilts as a public woman, or tumble her pell-mell into some Fou- 
 rier establishment." 
 
 REPLY. 
 The following, from the E.xpress of the same date: " At the Park this even 
 ing the graceful Augusta, (whose benefit, last night, notwithstanding the 
 weather, was fashionably and numerously attended,) takes her leave of us for 
 the present. We can add nothing to what we have already said in praise of 
 this charming artist's performances, farther than to express the hope that it 
 may not bo long ere we are again permitted to see her upon our boards. As 
 in beauty, grace, delicacy, and refinement, she stands alone in her profession, 
 80 in private life she enjoys, and most justly, too, the highest reputation in all 
 her relations." 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 To what a low degree of debasement must the Coons have indeed 
 fallen, when even so notorious a reprobate as Nick Biddle is disgust- 
 ed with tkem. — Plebeian. 
 
 REPLY. 
 " All the 'notorious reprobates ' in the country were ' disgusted' with the 
 Whigs long ago. They have found their proper resting-place in the embraces 
 of Loco-Focoism." 
 
EXPEDIENCY. 
 
 279 
 
 PROVOCATION'. 
 
 Our whole national debt is less than sixty days' interest ou that 
 !)f Great Britain, yet, with all our resources the English call us 
 iSiT:kvnY>t\—Bosto7i Post. 
 
 KEPLT. 
 
 " But England pays her interest— largo as it is ; and if our States will not 
 >ay even their debts, small as they are, why should they not bo called 
 >ankrupt V 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 A charge that the Tribune sacrified the Right to the Expedient. 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 " Old stories very often have a forcible application to present times. Tho 
 Hollowing anecdote we met with lately in an exchange paper : 
 
 " ' IIow IS it, John, that you bring the wagon homo in such a condition V 
 
 " ' 1 broke it driving over a stump.' 
 
 "'■VThero?' 
 
 " ' Back m tho woods, half a mile or so.' 
 
 " • But why did you run against the stump 1 Could n't you see how to drivo 
 
 stvai^ht V 
 
 " ' I did drrve straight, sir, and that is the very reason that I drove over it 
 The stump was directly in tho middle of the road.' 
 
 " ' Why, then, dia you not go round it V 
 
 " ' Becau'^e, sif, the stump had no right in the middle of tho road, and I had 
 a right in it.' 
 
 " ' True, Jonn, the stump ought not to have been in tho road, but I wonder 
 that you were so foolish as not to consider that it was there, and that it 
 was stronger than your wagon.' 
 
 " ' "Why, father, do you think that I am always going to yield up my 
 rights'? Not I. I am determined to stick up to them, come what will.' 
 
 " ' But what is the use, John, of standing up to rights, when you only got a 
 greater wrong by so doing V 
 
 " ' I shall stand up for them at all hazards.' 
 
 " ' Well, John, all I have to say is this— hereafter you must furnish your 
 own wagon." 
 
 PROVOCATION. 
 
 Tlie applicatioi. of the word ' Bah ' to one of the Tribune's ar- 
 guments. 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 " We are quite willing that every animal should express its emotions in tho 
 language natural to It." 
 
280 EDITORIAL REPARTEES. 
 
 PEOVOOATION. 
 
 Oonservatiem in general. 
 
 " The stubborn conservative is like a horse on board a ferry-boat. The horse 
 may back, but the boat moves on, and the animal with it." 
 
 PEOVOOATION. 
 
 A correspondent, to illustrate his position, that slave-owners have 
 a right to move v?ith their slaves into new territories, compared 
 those territories to a village common, upon which every vulagei 
 has an equal right to let his animals graze. 
 
 " No, sir. A man may choose to pasture his geese upon the common, which 
 would spoil the pasture for cows and horses. The other villagers would be 
 right in keeping out the geese, even by violence." 
 
 And thus the Tribune warred, and warring, prospered. Repeat- 
 ed supplements, ever-increasing circulation, the frequent omission 
 of advertisements, all testified that a man may be independent in 
 the expression of the most unpopular opinions, and yet not be 
 'starved into silence.' 
 
 One more glance at the three volumes froia which most of the 
 above passages are taken, and we accompany our hero to new 
 scenes. In the Fifty-four-forty-or-Fight controversy, the Tribune 
 of course took the side of peace and moderation. Its obituary of 
 General Jackson in 1845, being not wholly eulogistic, called forth 
 angry comment from the democratic press. In the same year, it 
 gave to the advocates respectively of phonography, the phonetic 
 system, and the magnetic telegraph, an ample hearing, and occa- 
 sional encouragement. In 1846, its Reporters were excluded from 
 the gallery of the House of Representatives, because a correspond- 
 ent stated, jocularly, that Mr. Sawyer, of Oliio, lunched in the 
 House on sausages. The weak member has since been styled Sau- 
 sage Sawyer — a name which he will put off only with his mortal 
 coil. Throughout the Mexican war, the Tribune gave all due honor 
 to the gallantry of the soldiers who fought its battles, on one occa- 
 sion defending Oen. Pierce from the charge of cowardice and boast- 
 ing. In 1847, the editor made the tour of the great lake country, 
 
WAGER WITH THE HERALD. 281 
 
 going to the uttermost parts of Lake Superior, and writing a series 
 of letters ■which revealed the charms and the capabihties of that 
 region. In the same year it gave a complete exposition of tlio so- 
 called ' Revelations' of Mr. Andrew Jackson Davis, but without ex- 
 pressing any ofjinion as to their supernatural origin. War followed, 
 of course. To ^Ir. Whitney's Pacific Railroad scheme it assigned 
 Bufficient space. Agassiz' lectures were admirably reported, with 
 from ten to twenty woodcuts in the report of eacli lecture. Gen. 
 Taylor's nomination to the presidency it descried in the distance, 
 and opposed vehemently. 
 
 The last event of the seventh volume was the dispute with the 
 Herald on the subject of the comparative circulation of the two 
 papers. The Tribune challenged the Herald to an investigation by 
 an impartial committee, whose report each paper should i)ublish, 
 and the losing party to give a hundred dollars to each of the two 
 orphan asylums of the city. The Herald accepted. The report of 
 the committee was as follows : 
 
 "The undersigned having been designated by the publishers of the New 
 York Herald and New York Tribune, respectively, to examine jointly and re- 
 port for publication the actual circulation of these two journals, have made 
 the scrutiny required, and now report, that the average circulation of the two 
 papers during the four weeks preceding the agreement which originated this 
 investigation, was as follows : 
 
 X'ew York Herald. l J^cw York Tribune. 
 
 Average Daily circulation 16,711 
 
 " Weekly " 11,4-55 
 
 " Presidential " 780 
 
 Total 28,946 
 
 Average Daily circulation 11,455 
 
 " AVeekly " 15,780 
 
 " Semi-Weekly 960 
 
 Total 28^ 
 
 "The quantity of paper used by each establishment, during the four weeks 
 above specified, was as follows : By the New York Herald, 975 reams for the 
 Daily ; 95i reams for the Weekly, and 5 reams for the Presidential. By the 
 New York Tribune, 573 reams for the Daily ; 131i reams for the Weekly, and 
 16 reams for the Semi-Weekly. 
 " We therefore decide that the Herald has the larger average circulation. 
 
 " James G. Wilson, 
 " Daniel H. Megie." 
 
 The Tribune paid the money, but protested that the ' Presidential 
 Herald,' and, above all, the Sunday Herald, ought to have been ex- 
 cluded from the comparison. 
 
OHAPTER XXII. 
 
 1848! 
 
 Revolutions in Europe— Tlie Tribune exults— The Slievegammon letters— Taylor and 
 Fillmore — Course of the Tribune— Horace Greeley at Vauxhall Garden— His 
 election to Congress. 
 
 The Year of Hope ! You have not forgotten, reader, the 
 thrill, the tunoult, the ecstasy of joy with which, on the morning 
 of March 2Sth, 1848, you read in the morning papers these electric 
 and transporting capitals. Regale your eyes with them once 
 more : 
 
 FIFTEEISr DAYS LATER FROM EUROPE. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE CAMBRIA. 
 
 HIGHLY IMPORTANT NEWS! 
 
 ABDICATION OF LOUIS PHILIPPE! 
 
 A REPUBLIC PROCLAIMED. 
 
 THE ROYAL FAMILY HAVE LEFT PARIS. 
 
 ASSAULT OjY the PALAIS ROYAL. 
 
 GREAT LOSS OF LIFE. 
 
 COMMUNICATION WITH THE ULTERIOR CUT OFF. 
 
 EESIGISTATIOiSr OF MINISTERS, 
 
 REVOLT IN AMIENS-PARIS IN ALARM. 
 
 What history is condensed in tliese few words ? Why has not 
 that history been faithfully and minutely recorded, as a warning 
 and a guide to the men of future revolutions ? Why has no one 
 deduced from the events of the last eighty years a science of Rev- 
 olution, laid down the principles upon which success is possible, 
 probable, certain ? The attempt, and not the deed confounded Ea- 
 
THE SLIEVEGAMMOX LETTERS. 283 
 
 rope, and condemned her to more years of festering itagnation. 
 " As I looked out of the -window of my hotel, in Boulogne," says 
 a recent traveler, " it seemed to me that all the men were soldiers, 
 and that women did all the work." How pitiful I Eow shameful ! 
 A million of men under arms I The army, the elite of the nation I 
 One man of every ten to keep the- other nine in order ! ! in- 
 finite and dastardly imbecility I 
 
 I need not say that the Tribune plunged into the European con- 
 tests headlong. It chronicled every popular triumph with exulta- 
 tion unbounded. One of the editors of the paper, Mr. Charles A. 
 Dana, went to Europe to procure the most authentic and direct in- 
 formation of events as they transpired, and his letters over the 
 well-known initials, ' C. A. D.,' were a conspicuous and valuable 
 feature of the year. Mr. Greeley wrote incessantly on the subject, 
 blending advice with exhortation, jubilation with warning. In be- 
 half of Ireland, his sympathies were most strongly aroused, and he 
 accepted a place Lq the " Directory of the Friends of Ireland," to the 
 funds of which he contributed liberally. 
 
 It was in August of this year, that the famous " Slievegammon " 
 letters were published. As trequent allusions to this amusing affair 
 are sfdl made in the papers, it may as well be explained here. The 
 country was on the tiptoe of expectation for important news of the 
 Irish rebellion. The steamer arrived. Among the despatches of 
 the Tribune were three letters from Dublin, giving news not con- 
 tained in the newspapers. The Tribune " without vouching for the 
 accuracy of the statements," made haste to publish the letters, 
 with due glorification. This is one of them : 
 
 " Dublin, Aug. 3, 1343. 
 
 " No newspaper here dare tell the truth concerning the battle of Slieve- 
 namon, but from all we can learn, the people have had a great victory. Gen. 
 Macdonald, the commander of the British forces, is killed, and six thousand 
 troops are killed and wounded. The road for three miles is covered with the 
 dead. We also have the inspiring intelligence that Kilkenny and Limerick 
 have been taken by the people. The peoph of Dublin have gone in thousand's 
 to assist in the country. Mr. John B. Dillon was wounded in both legs. Mr. 
 Meagher was also wounded in both arms. It is generally expected that Dub- 
 lin will rise and attack the jails on Sunday night, {Aug. 6.) 
 
 "All the people coming in on the Railroad are cautioned and commanded 
 
284 THE YEAR OF HOPE. 
 
 not to tell the news. When the cars arrive, thousands of the Dublin people 
 are waiting for the intelligence. The police drive away those who are seen 
 asking questions. Why all this care of the government to prevent the spread 
 of intelligence, unless it be that something has happened which they want 
 kept as a secret 7 If they had obtained a victory they would be very apt to 
 let us know it. 
 
 "We are informed that the 3d Bluffs (a regiment of Infantry) turned and 
 fought with the people. The 31st regiment, at Athlone, have also declared for 
 the people, and two regiments have been sent to disarm them. 
 
 " The mountain of Slievenamon is almost inaccessible. There is but one 
 approach to it. It is said to be well supplied with provisions. It was a glo- 
 rious place for our noble Smith O'Brien to select. It is said he has sixty 
 thousand men around him, with a considerable supply of arms, ammunition, 
 and cannon. In '98, the rebels could not be taken from Slievenamon until 
 they chose to come out themselves. 
 
 " A lady who came to town yesterday, and who had passed the scene of bat- 
 tle, said that for three miles the stench arising from the dead men and horses 
 was almost suffocating. 
 
 " Wexford was quite peaceable till recently — but the government in its mad- 
 ness proclaimed it, and now it is in arms to assist the cause. Now that we are 
 fairly and spiritedly at it, are we not worthy of help 7 What are you doing 
 for us 7 People of America, Ireland stretches her hand to you for assistance. 
 Do not let us be disappointed. B." 
 
 For a day or two, the Irish and the friends of Ireland exulted ; 
 but when the truth hecame known, their note was sadly changed, 
 and the Tribune was widely accused of having originated a hoax. 
 "Whereas, it was only too innocent! 
 
 The most remarkable feature of the affair was, that the letters 
 were written in good faith. The mind of Dublin was in a delirium 
 of excitement, rumors of the wildest description were readily be- 
 lieved, and the writer of the Slievegaramon letters was as completely 
 deceived as apy of his readers. It need only be added, that Hor- 
 ace Greeley never saw the letters till he saw them in print in the 
 columns of the Tribune ; when they appeared, he was touring in 
 tlie uttermost parts of Lake Superior. 
 
 This was the year, too, of the Taylor and Fillmore 'campaign;' 
 from which, however, the Tribune held obstinately aloof till late in 
 the summer. Mr. Greeley had opposed the nomination of Gen. 
 Taylor from the day it began to be agitated. He opposed it at 
 the nominating convention in Philadelphia, and used all his influ- 
 
THE SLIEVEGAMMON LEfTERS. 285 
 
 ence to secure the nomination of Henry Clay. As soon as the final 
 ballot decided the contest in favor of Taylor, lie rnslied from the 
 hall in disgust, and, on his return to New York, could not suthcient- 
 ly overcome his repugnance to the ticket, to print it, as the custom 
 then was, at the head of his editorial columns. lie ceased to oppose 
 the election of Gen. Taylor, but would do nothing to i)romote it. 
 The list of candidates does not appear, in the usual place in the Tri- 
 bune, as the regular ' Whig nominations,' till the twenty-ninth of 
 September, and even then, our editor consented to its appearance 
 with great reluctance. Two days before, a whig meeting had been 
 held at Vauxliall Garden, which Mr. Greeley chanced to attend. 
 He was seen by the crowd, and after many, and very vociferous 
 calls, he made a short address, to the following etFect : 
 
 " I trust, follow-citizens, I shall never be afraid nor ashamed to meet a 
 Whig assemblage and express my sentiments on the polilical questions of the 
 day. And alilimigh I have had no intimation till now that my presence here 
 was expected or desired, I am the more ready to answer your call since I have 
 heard intimations, evea from this stand, that there was some mystery in my 
 course to bo cleared up — some astounding revelation with regard to it to be 
 expected. And our eloquent friend from Kentucky even volunteered, in his 
 remarks, to see uie personally and get me right. If there bo indeed any 
 mystery in the premises, I will do my best to dispel it. But I have, in truth, 
 nothing to reveal. I stated in announcing Gen. Taylor's nomination, the day 
 after it was made, that I would support if I saw no other way to defeat the 
 election of Lewis Cass. That pledge I have ever regarded. I shall faithfully 
 redeem it. And, since there is now no chance remaining that any other than 
 Gen. Taylor or Gen. Cass can be elected, I shall henceforth support the ticket 
 nominated at Philadelphia, and do what I can for its election. 
 
 "But I have not changed my opinion of the nomination of Gen. Taylor. I 
 believe it was unwise and unjust. For Gen. Taylor, personally, I have ever 
 spoken with respect ; but I believe a candidate could and should have been 
 chosen mors deserving, more capable, more popular. I cannot pretend to sup- 
 port him with enthusiasm, for I do not feel any. 
 
 " Yet while I frankly avow that I would do little merely to make Gen. Tay- 
 lor President, I cannot forget that ->thers stand or fall with bim, and that 
 among them are Fillmore and Fish anu Patterson, with whom I have battled 
 for the Whig causo ever since T was entitled to vote, and to whora I cannot 
 now be unfaithful. I cannot forget that if Gen. Taylor bo elected wo shall in 
 all probability have a Whig Congress; if Gen. Cass is elected, a Loco-Foco 
 Congress. Who car isk mo to throw away all these because of my objections 
 to Gen. Taylor? 
 
286 THE YEAR OF HOPE. 
 
 "And then the question of Free Soil, what shall be the fate of that? 1 
 presume there are here some Free Soil men ['Yes! Yes! all Free Soil !']--! 
 mean those to whom the question of extending or restricting Slavery out- 
 weighs all other considerations. I ask these what hope they have of keeping 
 Slavery out of California and New-Mexico with Gen. Cass President, and a 
 Loco-Foco Congress ? I have none. And I appeal to every Free Soil Whig 
 to ask himself this question — ' How would South Carolina and Texas wish you 
 to vote V Can you doubt that your bitter adversaries would rejoice to hear 
 that you had resolved to break off from the Whig party and permit Gen Cass 
 to be chosen President, with an obedient Congress ? / cannot doubt it. And 
 I cannot believe that a wise or worthy course, which my bitterest adversaries 
 would gladly work out for me. 
 
 " Of Gen. Taylor's soundness on this question, I feel no assurance, and can 
 give none. But I believe him clearly pledged by his letters to leave legisla- 
 tion to Congress, and not attempt to control by his veto the policy of the coun- 
 try. I believe a Whig Congress will not con.'ent to extend Slavery, and that a 
 Whig President will not go to war with Congress and the general spirit of his 
 party. So believing, I shall support the AVhig nominations with a view to the 
 triumph of Free Soil, trusting that the day is not distant when an amend- 
 ment of the Federal Constitution will give the appointment of Postmasters 
 and other local officers to the People, and strip the President of the enormous 
 and anti- republican patronage which now causes the whole Political action of 
 the country to hinge upon its Presidential Elections. Such are my views ; 
 such will be my course. I trust it will no longer be pretended that there is 
 any mystery about them." 
 
 This speech was received with particular demonstrations of ap- 
 proval. It was felt that a serious obstacle to Gen. Taylor's succes3 
 was removed, and tliat now the whig party would march on in an 
 anbroken phalanx to certain victory. 
 
 The day which secured its triumph elected Horace Greeley to a 
 seat in the House of Representatives, which the death of a member 
 had made vacant. He was elected for one session only, and that, 
 the short one of three months. How he came to be nominated has 
 been explained by himself in a paragraph on the corruptive machin- 
 ery of our primary elections : " An editor of the Tribune was once 
 nominated through that machinery. So he was — to serve ninety 
 days in Congress — aiid he does n't feel a bit proud of it. But let 
 it be considered that the Convention was not chosen to nominate 
 him, and did not (we presume) think of doing any such thing, 
 
HIS ELECTION TO CONGRESS. 287 
 
 anlil it Lad unanimously nominated anotlier, ■vvho unexpectedly de- 
 clined, and then one of us was pitched upon to supply his place. 
 "We don't know whether tke Primaries wore as corrupt tlieu as now 
 or not; our impression is that they have been growing steadily 
 worse and worse — but no matter — let us have them reformed." 
 
 His nomination introduced great spirit into the contest, and he 
 was voted for with enthusiasm, particularly by tT^o classes, work- 
 ing-men and thinking-men. Ilis majority over his opponent was 
 8,1-77, the whole number of votes being 5,985. His majority con- 
 siderably exceeded that of Gen. Taylor in the same wards. At 
 the same election Mr. Brooks, of the Express, was elected to a seat 
 in the House, and his 'Card' of thanksgiving to those who had 
 voted for him, elicited or suggested the following from Mr. 
 Greeley : 
 
 '■'• TO THE EI.EOTOKS OF THE VITII OONGEESSIONAL DISTKIOT. 
 
 " The undcrsigneil, lato a candidate for Congress, respectfully returns his 
 thanks — fir.^t, to his political opponents for the uniform kindness and considera- 
 tion with which he was treated by them throughout the canvass, and the un- 
 solicited suffrages with which he was honored by many of them ; secondly, to 
 the great mass of his political brethren, for the ardent, enthusiastic and effect- 
 ive support which they rendered him ; and, lastly, to that small portion of 
 the Whig electors who saw fit to withhold from him their votes, thereby 
 nearly or quite neutralizing the support he received from the opposite party. 
 Claiming for himself the right to vote for or against any candidate of his 
 party as his own sense of right and duty shall dictate, he very freely accords 
 to all others the same liberty, without offense or inquisition. 
 
 " During the late canvass I have not, according to my best recollection, 
 spoken of myself, and have not replied in any way to any sort of attack or 
 imputation. I have in no manner sought to deprecate the objections, nor to 
 soothe the terrors of that largo and most influential class who deem my ad- 
 vocacy of Land Reform and Social Re-organization synonymous with In- 
 fidelity and systematic Robbery. To have entered upon explanations or vin- 
 dications of ray views on these subjects in the crisis of a great National 
 struggle, which taxed every energy, and demanded every thought, comported 
 neither with ray leisure nor my inclination. 
 
 '• Neither have I seen fit at any time to ju.stify nor allude to my participa- 
 tion in the efforts made here last summer to aid the people of Ireland in their 
 anticipated struggle for Liberty and Independence. I shall not do so now. 
 What I did then, in behalf of the Irish millions, I stand ready to do again, 
 
28S THREE MONTHS IX CONGRESS. 
 
 80 far as my means will permit, when a siuiilar opportunity, with a like pros- 
 pect of success, is presented — and not for them only, but for any equally op- 
 pressed and suffering people on the face of the earth. If any ' extortion and 
 plunder' were contrived and perpetrated in the meetings for Ireland at 
 Vauxhall last season, I am wholly unconscious of it, though I ought to be as 
 well informed as to the alleged ' extortion and plunder' as most others, whether 
 my information were obtained in the character of conspirator or that of vic- 
 tim. I feel impelled, however, by the expressions employed in Mr. Brooks's 
 card, to state that I have found nothing like an inclination to ' extortion and 
 plunder' in the councils of the leading friends of Ireland in this city, and no- 
 thing like a suspicion of such baseness among the thousands who sustained and 
 cheered them in their eflForts. All the suspicions and imputations to which 
 those have been subjected, who freely gave their money and their exer- 
 tions in aid of the generous though ineffectual effort for Ireland's liberation, 
 have originated with those who never gave that cause a prayer or a shilling, 
 and have not yet traveled beyond them. 
 
 " New York, Nov. 8, 1848." 
 
 ' Respectfully, 
 
 " HOBACE GbEELEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 Bis objects as a Member of Congress— His first acts — The Chaplain hypocrisy — Tb« 
 Laud Reform Bill— Distributing the Documents — Offers a novel Resolution — Thr. 
 Mileage Expose — Congressional delays— Explosion in tlie House — Mr. Turner's ora 
 tion — Mr. Creeley defends himself — The Walker Tariff — Congress iu a pet— Speech 
 at the Printers' Fesliviil— The House in good humor — Traveling deiid-head — Per- 
 sonal explaniilions — A dry haul — The amendment game— Congressional dignity — 
 Battle of the books — The Recruiting System — The last night of the Session — The 
 ' usual gratuity' — The Inauguration Ball — Farewell to his constituents. 
 
 In the composition of this work, I have, as a rule, abstained from 
 the impertinence of panegyric, and most of the few sentences of 
 an applausive nature which escaped my pen were promptly erased 
 on the first i>ernsal of the passages which tliey disfigured. Of a 
 good action, the simplest narrative is the best panegyric; of a bad 
 a'^tion, the best justification is the whole truth about it. Therefore, 
 
HIS OBJECTS AS A MEMBER OF CONGRESS. '?59 
 
 thougft Horace Greeley's career in Congress is that part of his life 
 which I regard with unmingled admiration, and tliough t lie conduct 
 of his enemies during that period fills me with inexpressible disgust, 
 J sliall present here little more than a catalogue of his acts and en- 
 deavors while he held a place in the National bear-garden. 
 
 lie seems to have kept two objects in view, during those three 
 turbulent and exciting months : 1, to do bis duty as a Representative 
 of tlie People ; 2, to let the people know exactly and fully what 
 manner of place the House of Representatives is, by what methods 
 their business is kept from being done, and under what pretexts 
 their money is plundered. The first of these objects kept him con- 
 stantly in his place on the floor of the House. The second he ac- 
 complished by daily letters to the Tribune, written, not at his desk 
 in the House, but in liis room before and after each day's hubbub. 
 It will be convenient to arrange this chapter in the form of a jour- 
 nal. 
 
 Dee. 4th. This was Monday, the first day of the session. Horace 
 Greeley ' took the oaths and his seat.' 
 
 Dec. 5th. He gave notice of his intention to bring in a bill to 
 discourage speculation in the public lands, and establish homesteads 
 upon the same. 
 
 Dec. 6th. He wrote a letter to the Tribune, in which he gave 
 his first impressions of the House, and used some plain English. 
 He spoke strongly upon tlie dishonesty of members drawing pay 
 and yet not giving attendance at the early sessions, thougii the 
 House had a hundred bills ready for conclusive action, and every 
 day lost at the outset insures the defeat of ten bills at the close. 
 As a specimen of plain English take this: 
 
 " On the third day, the Senate did not even succeed in forming a quorum ; 
 out of fifty-seven or eight member?, who are all sure to be in for their pay 
 and mileage, only twenty-nine appeared in their scats ; and the annual hy- 
 pocrisy of electing a chaplain had to go over and waste another day. If either 
 House had a chaplain who dare preach to its members what they ought to hear 
 — of their faithlessness, their neglect of duty, their iniquitous waste of time, 
 and robbery of the public by taking from the treasury money which they have 
 not even attempted to earn — then there would be some sense in the ehiiplain 
 business ; but any ill-bred Nathan or Elijah who should undertake such a job 
 
 13 
 
200 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 would be kickel out in short order. So tlie chaplaincy remains a thing of 
 grimace and mummery, nicely calculated to help some flockless and complai 
 lant shepherd to a few hundred dollars, and impose on devout simpletons an 
 exalted notion of the piety of Coiigre??. Should not the truth be spoken ^ 
 * * ** * * * * 
 
 "But in truth the great sorrow is, that so many of the Members of Con- 
 gress, as of men in high station elsewhere, are merely dexterous jugglers, or 
 the tools of dexterous jugglers, with the cup and balls of politics, shuffled into 
 responsible places as a reward for past compliances, or in the hope of being 
 there made useful to the inventors and patentees of their intellectual and 
 moral greatness. To such men, the idea of anybody's coming to Congress for 
 anything else than the distinction and the plunder, unless it be in the hope of 
 intriguing their way up to some still lazier and more lucrative post, is so irre- 
 sistibly comic — such an exhibition of jolly greenness, that they cannot contem- 
 plate it without danger of explosion." 
 
 Dec. ISth. Mr. Greeley introduced the Land Reform bill, of 
 which he had given notice. It provided: 
 
 1. That any citizen, and any alien who had declared his intention 
 of becoming a citizen, may file a pre-emption claim to 160 acres of 
 Public Land, settle upon it, improve it, and have the privilege of 
 buying it at any time within seven years of filing the claim, at the 
 Government i)rice of $1 25 per acre : provided, that he is not the 
 owner or claimant of any other real estate. 
 
 2. That the Land office where a claim is filed, shall issue a "War- 
 rant of Pre-emption, securing the claimant in seven years' possess- 
 ion. 
 
 3. That, after five years', occupanc}', a warrant-holder who makes 
 oath of his intention to reside on and cultivate his land for life shall 
 become the owner of any forty acres of his claim which he may 
 select; the head of a family eighty acres. 
 
 4. That the price of public lands, when not sold to actual settlers, 
 shall be five dollars per acre. 
 
 5. That false affidavits, made to procure land under the provisions 
 of this bill, shall be punished by three years' hard labor in a State 
 prison, by a fine not exceeding $1,000, and by the loss of the land 
 fraudulently obtained. 
 
 Dec. 16th. The following notice appeared in the Tribune: 
 
 " Ir 'eference to many requests for copies of the President's Message and 
 
OFFERS A NOVEL RESOLUTION. 291 
 
 accompanying Documents, T ilesire to state that such Message and Documents 
 are expected to cover twelve to fourteen hundred printed octavo pages, and 
 to include three maps, the engraving of which will probably delay the publi- 
 cation for two or three weeks yet. I shall distribute my share of them as soon 
 as possible, and make thorn go as far as they will ; but I cannot satisfy half 
 the demands upon me. As each Senator will have nearly two hundred copies, 
 while Representatives have but about sixty each, applications to Senators, 
 especially from the smaller States, are obviously the most promising." 
 
 Dec. IQth. Mr. Greeley offered the following resolutioa in the 
 House : 
 
 " Resolved, That the Secretary of the Navy be requested to inquire into 
 and report upon the expediency and feasibility of temporarily employing the 
 whole or a portion of our national vessels, now on the Pacific station, in the 
 transportation, at moderate rates, of American citizens and their effects from 
 Panama and the Mexican ports on the Pacific to San Francisco in California." 
 
 This was tlie year of the gold fever. The fate of the above reso- 
 lution may be given in its proposer's own words 
 
 " Monday," he wrote, " was expressly a resolution day ; and (the order 
 commencing at Ohio) it was about 2 o'clock before New York was called, and 
 I had a chance to offer the foregoing. It was received, but could not be acted 
 on except by unanimous consent (which was refused) until it shall have laid 
 over one day — when of course it will never be reached again. When the 
 States had been called through, I rose and asked the House to consider the 
 above as modified so as to have the inquiry made by its own Naval Commit- 
 tee instead of the Secretary of the Navy — thus bringing its immediate consid- 
 eration within the rules. No use — two or three on the other side sang out 
 ' Object,' ' Object,' and the resolution went over — as all resolutions which any 
 member indicates a purpose to debate must do. So the resolution cannot be 
 reached again this Session." 
 
 Dec. VJth. Mr. Greeley made what the reporters styled 'a plain 
 and forcible speech,' on the tariff, in which he animadverted upon 
 a passage of the Message, wherein the President had alluded to 
 manufacturers as an 'aristocratic class, and one that claimed exclu- 
 sive privileges.' Mr. Greeley Avalked into the President. 
 
 Dbc. 22d. On this day appeared in the Tribune, the famous 
 Congressional Mileage E.xpose. The history of this expose la 
 briefly related by Mr. Greeley, in the Whig Almanac for 1850. 
 
292 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 "Early in December, I calle^l on the Sergeant-at-Arms, for some money on 
 dccount, he being paymaster of the House. The Schedule used by that ofiScer 
 was placed before me, showing the amount of mileage respectively accorded 
 to every member of the House. Many of these amounts struck me as ex- 
 cessive, and I tried to recollect if any publication of all the allowances in a 
 like case had ever been made through the journals, but could not remember 
 any such publicity. On inquiry, I was informed that the amounts were regu- 
 larly published in a certain docutnent entitled ' The Public Accounts,' of which 
 no considerable number was printed, and which was obviously not intended 
 for popular distribution. [It is even omitted in this document for the year 
 1848, printed since I published my expose, so that I can now find it in no pub- 
 lic document whatever.] I could not remember that I had ever seen a copy, 
 though one had been obtained and used by my assistant in making up last 
 year's Almanac. It seemed to me, therefore, desirable that the facts should 
 be brought to the knowledge of the public, and I resolved that it should be 
 done. 
 
 " But how 1 To have picked out a few of what seemed to me the most fla- 
 grant cases of overcharge, and print these alone, would be to invite and secure 
 the reputation of partiality, partisanship, and personal animosity. No other 
 course seemed so fair as to print the mileage of each member, with necessary 
 elucidations. I accordingly emploj-ed an ex-clerk in one of the departments, 
 and instructed him to make out a tabular expose as follows : 
 
 " 1. Name of each member of the House ; 
 
 " 2. Actual distance from his residence to Washington by the shortest post- 
 route ; 
 
 "3. Distance for which he is allowed and paid mileage; 
 
 "4. Amount of mileage received by him ; 
 
 " 5. Excess of mileage so received over what would have been if the dis- 
 tance had been computed by the shortest or most direct mail-route. 
 
 " The expose was made out accordingly, and promptly forwarded to the Tri- 
 bune, in which it appeared " 
 
 In the remarks -which intriHluced the tabular statement, Mr. 
 Greeley expressly and pointedly laid the blame of the enormous ex- 
 cess to tlie law. " Let no man," he said "jump at the conclusion 
 that tliis e.xcess has been cliarged and received contrary to law. 
 The fact is otlierwise. The members are all honorable men — if any 
 irreverent infidel should doubt it, we can silence him by referring 
 to the prefix to their names in the newspapers, and we presume 
 each has charged just what the law allows him. That law ex- 
 pressly says that each shall receive eight dollars for every twenty 
 miles traveled in coming to and returning from Congress, 'by the 
 
THE MILEAGE KXPOSfi. 2 >6 
 
 nsually traveled route ;' and of course if the route usually traveled 
 from California to Washington is around Cape Horn, or the mem- 
 bers from that embryo State shall choose to think it is — they will 
 each be entitled to charge some $12,000 mileage per session, accord- 
 ly. "We assume that each has cliarged precisely what the lav/ al- 
 lows him, and thereupon we press home the question — Ought not 
 THAT LAW to he amended f " 
 
 It appeared from the statement, that the whole number of " cir- 
 cuitous miles" charged was 183031, which, at forty cents a mile, 
 amounted to $73,492 GO. "With about twelve exceptions, it showed 
 that every member of the Senate and House had drawn more mile- 
 age than he ought to have been legally entitled to, the excess vary- 
 ing in amount from less than two dollars to more than a thousand 
 dollars. Viewed merely as a piece of editorship, this mileage ex- 
 pose was the best hit ever made by a New York paper. The effect 
 of it upon the town was immediate and immense. It flew upon 
 the wings of the country press, and became, in a few days, the 
 talk of the nation. Its effect upon Congress, and upon the subse- 
 quent congressional career of its author, we shall see in a moment. 
 
 Dec. 23(Z. Mr. Greeley wrote a letter to the Tribune, in which 
 he explained the maneuvering by which Congress, though it can- 
 not legally adjourn over for more than three consecutive days, 
 genemlly contrives to be idle during the whole of the Christmas 
 holidays ; i. e. from a day or two before Christmas, to a day or two 
 after New Year's. "I was warned," he wrote, "when going to 
 Baltimore last evening, that I might as well keep on to New York, 
 as nothing would be done till some time in January. But I came 
 back, determined to see at least how it was done." It was ' done' 
 by making two bites at the cherry, adjourning first from Saturday 
 to "Wednesday ; and, after a little show of work on "Wednesday, 
 Thursday and Friday, adjourning again till after New Year's day. 
 Mr. Greeley spoke in opposition to the adjournment, and demanded 
 the yeas and nays ; but they were refused, and the first bite was 
 consummatdd. " The old soldiers" of the House were too much for 
 him, he said ; but he took care to print the names of those who 
 voted for the adjournment. 
 
 Dec. 27th. Tj-day the pent-up rage of Congress at the Mileage 
 
2£ 4 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 Expose, -whicli bad been feruientiiig fur tbree days, burst fortii ; and 
 the gentleman who knocked out the bung, so to speak, was no other 
 than Mr. Sawyer, of Ohio, Mr. Sausage Sawyer of the Tribune. 
 Mr. Sawyer was ' down' in the Expose for an excess of $281 60, 
 and lie rose to a ' question of privilege.' A long and angry de- 
 bate ensued, first upon the question whether the Expose could be 
 debated at all ; and secondly, if it could, what should be done about 
 it. It was decided, after much struggle and turmoil, that it was a 
 proper subject of discussion, and Mr. Turner, of Illinois, whose excess 
 amounted to the interesting sum of $998 40, moved a series of 
 resolutions, of which the following was the most important : 
 
 " Resolved, That a publication made in the New York Tribune on the 
 day of December, 1848, in which the mileage of members is set forth and 
 commented on, be referred to a Committee, with instructions to inquire 
 into and report whether said publication does not amount, in substance, to an 
 allegation of fraud against most of the members of this House in this matter 
 of their mileage ; and if, in the judgment of the Committee, it does amount to 
 an allegation of fraud, then to inquire into it, and report whether that allega- 
 tion is true or false." 
 
 The speech by which Mr. Turner introduced his resolutions was 
 not conceived in the most amiable spirit, nor delivered with that 
 'ofty composure which, it is supposed, should characterize the elo- 
 cution of a legislator. These sentences from it will suffice for a 
 specimen : 
 
 "He now wished to call the attention of the House particularly to these 
 charges made by the editor of the New York Tribune, most, if not all, of which 
 charges he intended to show were absolutely false ; and that the individual 
 who made them had either been actuated by the low, groveling, base, and 
 malignant desire to represent the Congress of the nation in a false and un- 
 enviable light before the country and the world, or that he had been actuated 
 by motives still more base — by the desire of acquiring an ephemeral notoriety, 
 by blazoning forth to the world what the writer attempted to show was fraud. 
 The whole article abounded in gross errors and willfully false statements, and 
 was evidently prompted by motives as base, unprincipled and corrupt as ever 
 actuated an individual in wielding his pen for the public press. 
 
 " Perhaps the gentleman (he begged pardon), or rather the individual, per- 
 haps the thing, that penned that article was not aware that his (Mr. T.'s) por- 
 ti«n of the country was not cut up by railroads and traveled by stage-coachea 
 
EXPLOSION IN THE HOUSE. 295 
 
 and other direct moans of public conveyance, like the omnibuses in the City of 
 Now York, between all points ; they had no other channel of communication 
 except the mighty lakes or the rivers of the West ; ho couM not get here in 
 any other way. The law on the subject of Mileage authorized the membors 
 CO charge upon the most direct usually-traveled route. Now, he ventured tho 
 assertion that there was not "an individual in his District who ever came to 
 this city, or to any of the North-oastorj cities, who did not come by the way 
 of the lakes or the rivers. 
 
 ********* 
 " lie did not know but ho was engaged in a very small bu.sincss. A gentle- 
 man near him suggested that tho writer of this article would not bo believed 
 anyhow ; that, therefore, it was no slander. But his constituents, living two 
 or three thousand miles distant, might not bo aware of tiie facts, and therefore 
 it was that he had deemed it necessary to repel tho slanderous charges and 
 imputations of fraud, so far as they concornod him." 
 
 Other liononible geiitleiueii followed, and discoiir.'^ed eloquent dis- 
 cord in a similar strain. Mr. Greeley sat with unrufBed coniposuro 
 and heard hini.self vilified for some hours without attempting to 
 reply. At length, in a pau.se of tho storm, he arose and gave no- 
 tice, that when the resolutions were disposed of ho should rise to a 
 privileged question. Tiie following sprightly conversation ensued: 
 
 " Mr. Thompson, of Indiana, moved that the resolutions be laid on tho table. 
 
 " The Yeas and Nays wero asked and ordered ; and, being taken, were- 
 Yeas 28, Nays 128. 
 
 " And the question recurring on the deinnnd for tho previous question : 
 
 "Mr. Fries inquired of tho Speaker whotlier tho question was susceptible 
 of division. 
 
 "The Speaker said that the question could bo taken separately on each res- 
 olution. 
 
 "A number of members hero requested Mr. Evan.s to withdraw tho dem.and 
 for tho previous question (i. e. permit Mr. Orceley to speak). 
 
 " Mr. Evans declined to withdraw tho motion, and desired to state the rea- 
 Bon why he did so. The reason was, that tho gentleman from New York [Mr. 
 Greeley] had spoken to an audience to which tho members of this House could 
 not speak. If tho gentleman wished to assail any member of this House, lot 
 him do so hero. 
 
 '' Tho Speaker interposed, and was imperfectly heard, but was understood 
 to Bay that it was out of order to refer personally to gentlemen on this floor. 
 
 " Mr. Evans said ho' would refer to the editor of the Tribune, and he insist- 
 ed that the gentleman was not entitled to reply. 
 
 [" Loud cries from all parts of tho House, ' Let him speak,' with mingling 
 dissent.] 
 
296 THBEE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 "The question was then taken on the demand for the previous question. 
 
 " But the House refused to second it. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley, after alluding to the comments that had been made upon the 
 article in the Tribune relative to the subject of Mileage, and the abuse which 
 had notoriously been practiced relating to it, said he had heard no gentleman 
 quote one word in that article imputing an illegal charge to any member of 
 this House, imputing anything but a legal, proper charge. The whole ground 
 of the argument was this : Ought not the law to be changed! Ought not the 
 mileage to be settled by the nearest route, instead of what was called the 
 usually-traveled route, which authorized a gentleman coming from the center 
 of Ohio to go around by Sandusky, Albany, New York, Philadelphia, and 
 Baltimore, and to charge mileage upon that route. He did not object to any 
 gentleman's taking that course if he saw fit ; but was that the route upon 
 which the mileage ought to be computed 1 
 
 " Mr. Turner interposed, and inquired if the gentleman wrote that article! 
 
 " Mr. Greeley replied that the introduction to the article on mileage was writ- 
 tec oy himself ; the transcript from the books of this House and from the ac- 
 counts of the Senate was made by a reporter, at his direction. That reporter, 
 who was formerly a clerk in the Post-OfEce Department, [Mr. Douglass How- 
 ard,] had taken the latest book in the Department, which contained the dis- 
 tances of the several post-offices in the country from Washington ; and from 
 that book he had got — honestly, he knew, though it might not have been en- 
 tirely accurate in an instance or two — the oflBcial list of the distances of the 
 several post-offices from this city. In every case, the post-oEBce of the mem- 
 ber, whether of the Senate or the House, had been looked out, his distance as 
 charged set down, then the post-office book referred to, and the actual, honest 
 distance by the shortest route set down opposite, and then the computation 
 made how much the charge was an excess, not of legal mileage, but of what 
 would be legal, if the mileage was computed by the nearest mail route. 
 
 " Mr. King, of Georgia, desired, at this point of the gentleman's remarks, 
 to say a word ; the gentleman said that the members charged; now, he (Mr. 
 K.) desired to say, with reference to himself, that from the first, he had always 
 refused to give any information to the Committee on Mileage with respect to 
 the mileage to which he would be entitled. He had told them it was their 
 special duty to settle the matter ; that he would have nothing to do with it. 
 He, therefore, had charged nothing. •■ 
 
 " Mr. Greeley (continuing) said he thought all this showed the necessity of 
 a new rule on the subject, for here they saw members shirking off, shrinking 
 from the responsibility, and throwing it from one place to another. Nobody 
 made up the account, but somehow an e.xcess of $60,000 or $70,000 was 
 charged in the accounts for mileage, and was paid from the Treasury. 
 
 " Mr. King interrupted, and asked if he meant to charge him (Mr. K.) with 
 shirking 1 Was that the gentleman's remark 1 
 
MR. GREELEV DEFENDS HIMSELF. 297 
 
 ' Mr. Greeley replied, th;it ho only said that by some means or other, this 
 excess of mileage vms charged, and was paid by the Treasury. This money 
 ought to be saved. Thii same rule ought to bo applied to members of Con 
 gress that was applied to other persons. 
 
 " Mr. King desired to ask the gentleman from New York if he had correctly 
 understood his language, for he had heard him indistinctly? lie (Mr. K.) 
 had made the positive statement that ho had never had anything to do with 
 reference to the charge of his mileage, and ho had understood the gentleman 
 from New York to speak of shirking from responsibility. He desired to know 
 if the gentleman applied that term to him? 
 
 " jMr. Greeley said ho had applied it to no member. 
 
 " Mr. King asked, why make use of this term, then ? 
 
 " Mr. Greeley's reply to this interrogatory was lost in to confusion which 
 prevailed in consequence of members leaving their seats and coming forward 
 to the area in the center. 
 
 "The Speaker called the House to order, and requested gentlemen to take 
 their seats. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley proceeded. There was no intimation in the article that any 
 member had made out his own account, but somehow or other the accounts had 
 been so made up as to make a total excess of some $60,000 or $70,000, charge- 
 able upon the Treasury. The general facts had been stated, to show that the 
 law ought to be different, and there were several cases cited to show how tho 
 law worked badly ; for instance, from one district in Ohio, the member for- 
 merly charged for four hundred miles, when he came on his own horse all the 
 way ; but now the member from tho same district received mileage for some 
 eight or nine hundred miles. Now, ought that to be so ? The whole argu- 
 ment turned on this ; now, tho distances were traveled much easier than for- 
 merly, and yet more, in many cases much more, mileage was charged. Tho 
 gentleman from Ohio who commenced this discussion, had made the point that 
 there was some defect, some miscalculation in the estimate of distances. He 
 could not help it ; they had taken the post-oflSee books, and relied on them, 
 and if any member of the press had picked out a few members of this House, 
 and held up their charges for mileage, it would have been considered invidious. 
 
 "Mr. Turner called the attention of the member from Now York lo the fact 
 that the Postmaster General himself had thrown aside that Post Office book, 
 in consequence of its incorrectness. He asked tho gentleman if he did not 
 know that fact? 
 
 " Mr. Greeley replied that the article itself stated that the Department did 
 not charge mileage upon that book. Every possible excuse and mitigation 
 had been given in the article ; but he appealed to the House — they were tho 
 masters of the law — why would they not change it, and make it more just and 
 equal ? 
 
 " Mr. Sawyer wished to be allowed to ask the gentleman from New York a 
 
 13* 
 
298 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 question. His complaint was that the article had done him injustice, by get- 
 ting liim down as some 300 miles nearer the seat of Government than his col- 
 league [Mr. Schenck], although his colleague had stated before the House that 
 he [Mr. Sawyer] resided some 60 or 70 miles further. 
 
 " Now, he wanted to know why the gentleman had made this calculation 
 against him, and in favor of his colleague 1 
 
 " Mr. Greeley replied that he begged to assure the gentleman from Ohio 
 that he did not think he had ever been in his thoughts from the day he 
 had come here until the present day ; but he had taken the figures from the 
 Post OflBce book, as transcribed by a former Clerk in the Post Oflice Depart- 
 ment." 
 
 After much more sparring of the same descrii)tion, the resolu- 
 tions were adopted, the Oonnnittee was appointed, the House ad- 
 journed, and Mr. Greeley went home and wrote a somewhat face- 
 tious account of the day's proceedings. The most remarkable sen- 
 tence in that letter was this : 
 
 " It was but yesterday that a Senator said to me that though he was utterly 
 njiposed to any reduction of Mileage, yet if the House did not stop passing 
 Retrenchment bills for Buncombe, and then running to the Senate and beg- 
 ging Senators to stop thetn there, he, for one, would vote to jiut through the 
 next Mileage Reduction bill tlmt came to the Senate, just to punish Members 
 for their hypocrisy." 
 
 Jan. 2nd. Mr. Greeley oflfered a resolution calling on the Secre- 
 tary of tlie Treasury to communicate to the House the advantages 
 resulting from the imposition by the Taritf of 1846 of duties of 5 
 and 10 per cent, on certain manufactures of wool and hemp, more 
 than was imposed on the raw material, and if they were not advan- 
 tageous, tlien to state wliat action was required. 
 
 Jan. 87d. The resolution came ujj. 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth objected to the Secretary of the Treasury being called 
 upon for such information. If the gentleman from New York would apply to 
 Dim [Mr. W.], he would give him his reasons, but ho objected to this reference 
 10 the Secretary of the Treasury. He moved to lay it on the table, but with- 
 Irew it at the request of — 
 
 " Mr. Greeley, who said it was well known that the Tariff of 1846 waa 
 prepared by the Secretary; he had been its eulogist and defender, and ho 
 bow wished for his views on the particular points specified. He had un- 
 "•Mcially more than thirty times called on the defenders of the Tariff of 1846 
 
4 t-v- • 
 
 CONGRESS IN A PET. 299 
 
 to explain thcso things, but had never been able to get one, and now he wanted 
 to go to headquarters. 
 
 " Mr. Wcntworth was not satifiod with this at all, and asked why the gentle- 
 man from New York did not call on him. Ho was ready to give him any in- 
 formation he had. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley — That call is not in order. [A laugh.] 
 
 " Mr. W. — But he objected to the passage of a resolution imputing that the 
 Secretary of the Treasury had dictated a Tariff bill to the House. 
 
 "Mr. Washington Hunt— Does not the gentleman from Illinois know that 
 the Committee of Ways and Means called upon the Secretary for a Tariff, and 
 that he prepared and transmitted this Tariff to them? 
 
 " Mr. Wentworth — I do not know anything about it. 
 
 " Mr. Hunt — Well, the gentleman's ignorance is remarkable, for it was very ^ J^* , * 
 generally known. r^/^ ^' 
 
 "Mr. Wentworth renewed his motion to lay tho resolution on the table, '"^f <*■■'' I 
 
 on which the Ayes and Noes were demanded, and resulted Ayes 86, Noes 87." 
 
 Jan. Ath. Congress, to-day, showed its spite at the mileage ex- 
 pose in a truly extraordinary manner. At tho last session of this 
 very Congress the mileage of the Messengers appointed by the Elec- 
 toral Colleges to bear their respective votes for President and Vice 
 President to Washington, bad been reduced to twelve and a half 
 cents per mile each way. But 71010 it was perceived by members 
 that either the mileage of the Messengers must be restoi-ed or their 
 own reduced. " Accordingly," wrote Mr. Greeley in one of bis let- 
 ters, " a joint resolution was promptly submitted to the Senate, 
 doubling the mileage of Messengers, and it went through that ex- 
 alted body very quickly and easily. I bad not noticed that it had 
 been detiiiitively acted on at all until it made its appearance iu the 
 House to-day, and was driven through with indecent rapidity well 
 befitting its character. No Committee was allowed to examine it, 
 no opportunity was afforded to discuss it, but by whip and spur, 
 Previous Question and brute force of numbers, it was rushed through 
 the necessary stages, and sent to the President for his sanction." 
 
 The injustice of this impudent measure is apparent from the fact, 
 that on the reduced scale of compensation, messengers received from 
 ten to twenty dollars a day during the period of their necessary ab- 
 sence from home. "The messenger from Maine, for instance, brings 
 the vote of his State five hundred and ninety-five miles, and need 
 not bo more than eight days- absent from bis business, at an expense 
 
300 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 certainly not exceeding $60 in all. The reduced compensation was 
 $148 7o, paying his expenses and giving him $11 per day over," 
 
 Jan. 7th. The Printers' Festival was held this evening at Wash- 
 ington, and Mr. Gi-eeley attended it, and made a speech. His re« 
 marks were designed to show, that " the interests of tradesmen 
 generally, but especially of the printing and publisliing trade, includ- 
 ing authors and editors, were intimately involved in the establish- 
 ment and maintenance of high rates of compensation for labor in 
 all departments of industry. It is of vital interest to us all that the 
 entire community shall be buyers of books and subscribers to jour- 
 nals, which they cannot be unless their earnings are sufficient to 
 supply generously their physical wants and leave some surplus for 
 intellectual aliment. We ought, therefore, as a class, from regard 
 to our own interests, if from no higher motive, to combine to keep 
 up higher rates of compensation in our own business, and to favor 
 every movement in behalf of such rates in other callings."" 
 
 He concluded by otfering a sentiment : 
 
 " The Lightning of Intelligence — Now crashing ancient tyrannies and top- 
 pling down thrones — May it swiftly irradiate the world." 
 
 Jan. 9th. The second debate on the subject of Mileage occurred 
 to-day. It arose thus : 
 
 The following item being under consideration, viz. : " For Com- 
 pensation and Mileage of Senators, Members of the House of Rep- 
 resentatives, and Delegates, $708,200," Mr. Embree moved to amend 
 it by adding thereto the following : " Provided, That the Mileage 
 of Members of both Houses of Congress shall hereafter be estimated 
 and charged upon the shortest mail-route from their places of resi- 
 dence, respectively, to the city of Washington." 
 
 The debate which ensued was long and animated, but wholly 
 different in tone and manner from that of the previous week. 
 Strange to relate, the Expose found, on this occasion, stanch de- 
 fenders, and the House was in excellent humor. The reader, if he 
 feels curious to know the secret of this happy change, may find it, 
 I think, in that part of a speech delivered in the course of the de- 
 bate, where the orator said, that " he had not seen a single news- 
 paper of the country which did not approve of the course which 
 
TRAVELLING DEAD-HEAD 301 
 
 the gentleman from New York had taken ; and he helieved there 
 was no instance where the Editor of a paper liad spoken out the 
 genuine sentiments of the people, and made any expression of dis- 
 approbation in regard to the effort of the gentleman from New York 
 to limit this unjustifiable taxation of Milage." 
 
 The debate relapsed, at length, into a merry conversation on the 
 subject of traveling ' dead-Tieads.'' 
 
 " Mr. Murphy said, when he came on, he left New York at 5 o'clock in the 
 afternoon, and arrived at Philadelphia to supper; and then entering the cai 
 again, he slept very comfortably, and was here in the morning at 8 o'clock. 
 He lost no time. The mileage was ninety dollars. 
 
 " Mr. Root would inquire of the gentleman from New York, whether he 
 took his passage nnd came on as what the agents sometimes call a 'dead- 
 head?' [Laughter.] 
 
 " Mr. Murphy replied (amid considerable merriment and laughter) that he 
 did not know of more than one member belonging to the New York delegation 
 to whom that application could properly attach. 
 
 "Mr. Root said, although his friend from New York was tolerably expert 
 in everything he treated of, yet he might not understand the meaning of the 
 term he had used. He would inform him that thj term 'dead-head,' was ap- 
 plied by the steamboat gentlemen to passengers who were allowed to travel 
 without paying their fare. [A great deal of merriment prevailed throughout 
 the hall, upon this allusion, as it manifestly referred to the two editors, the 
 gentleman from Pennsylvania, Mr. Levin, and the gentleman from New York, 
 Mr. Greeley.] But Mr. R. (continuing to speak) said he was opposed to all 
 personalities. He never indulged in any such thing himself, and he never 
 would favor such indulgence on the part of other gentlemen. 
 " Mr. Levin. I want merely to say — 
 '' Mr. Root. I am afraid — 
 
 [" The confusion of voices and merriment which followed, completely 
 drowned the few words of pleasant explanation delivered here by Mr. Levin.] 
 " Mr. Greeley addressed the chair. 
 
 " The Chairman. The gentleman from New York will suspend his remarks 
 till the Committee shall come to order. 
 " Order being restored — 
 
 " Mr. Greeley said he did not pretend to know what the editor of the Phil- 
 adelphia Sun, the gentleman from Pennsylvania [Mr. Levin], had done. But 
 if any gentleman, anxious about the matter, would inquire at the railroad 
 oflSces in Philadelphia and Baltimore, he would there be informed that he (Mr 
 G.) never had passed over any portion of either of those roads free of charge 
 — never in the world. One of the gentlemen interested had once told him he 
 might, but he never had. 
 
302 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 " Mr. Embree next obtained the floor, but gave way for 
 
 " Mr. Haralson, who moved that the Committee rise. 
 
 "Mr. Greeley appealed to the gentleman from Georgia [Mr. Haralson] to 
 withhold his motion, while he might, by the courtesy of the gentleman from 
 Indiana [Mr. EmbreeJ, make a brief reply to the allusions which had been 
 made to him and his course upon this subject. He asked only for five minutes 
 But 
 
 " Mr. Haralson adhered to his motion, which was agreed to. 
 
 " So the Committee rose and reported, ' No conclusion.' " 
 
 Jan. \Qt1i. The slave-trade in the District of Columbia was the 
 subject of discussion, and the part which Mr. Greeley took in it, he 
 thus described : 
 
 " SLAVE-TRADE IN" THE DISTRICT. 
 
 MR. Greeley's remarks 
 
 In Defense of Mr. GotVs Resolution .^ (supjn'essed.) 
 
 ["Throughout the whole discussion of Wednesday, Mr. Greeley struggled 
 at every opportunity for the floor, and at first was awarded it, but the speaker, 
 on reflection, decided that it belonged to Mr. Wentworth of 111., who had made 
 a previous motion. Had Mr. G. obtained the floor at any time, it was his in- 
 tention to have spoken substantially as follows — the first paragraph being sug- 
 gested by Mr. Sawyer's speech, and of course only meditated after that speech 
 was delivered."] 
 
 Then follows the speech, which was short, eloquent, and con- 
 
 Jan. 11th. The third debate on the mileage question. Mr. Gree- 
 ley, who " had been for three days struggling for the floor," ob- 
 tained it;, and spoke in defense of his course. For two highly auto- 
 biographical paragraphs of his speech, room must be found in these 
 pages : 
 
 " The gentleman saw fit to speak of my vocation as an editor, and to charge 
 me with editing my paper from my seat on this floor. Mr. Chairman, I do 
 not believe there is one member in this Hall who has written less in bis seat 
 this session than I have done. I have oeen too much absorbed in the (to me) 
 iiovel and exciting scenes around me to write, and have written no editorial 
 here. Time enough for that. Sir, before and after your daily sessions. But 
 tho gentleman either directly charged or plainly insinuated that I have neg- 
 
PKUoONAL EXPLANATIONS. 303 
 
 lected my duties as a member of this House to attend to my own private bus- 
 iness. I meet this charge with a positive and cireumstantial denial. E.xcept 
 a brief sitting one Private Bill day, I have not been absent one hour in all, 
 nor the half of it, from the deliberations of this House. I have never voted 
 for an early adjournment, nor to adjourn over. My name will be found re- 
 corded on every call of the j'eas and nays. And, as the gentleman insinuated 
 a neglect of my duties as a member of a Committee (Public Lands,) I ap- 
 peal to its Chairman for proof to any that need it, that I have never been ab- 
 sent from a meeting of that Committee, nor any part of one ; and that I have 
 rather sought than shunned labor upon it. And I am confident that, alike in 
 my seat, and out of it, I shall do as large a share of the work devolving upon 
 this House as the gentleman from Mississippi will deem desirable. 
 
 "And now, Mr. Chairman, a word on the main question before us. I know 
 very well — I knew from the first — what a low, contemptible, demagoguing 
 business this of attempting to save public money always is. It is not a task 
 for gentlemen — it is esteemed rather disreputable even for editors. Your 
 gentlemenly work is spending — lavishing — distributing — taking. Savings are 
 always such vulgar, beggarly, two-penny affairs — there is a sorry and stingy 
 look about them most repugnant to all gentlemanly instincts. And beside, 
 they never happen to hit the right place — it is always ' Strike higher !' ' Strike 
 lower !' To be generous with other people's money — generous to self and 
 friends especially, that is the way to bo popular and commended. Go ahead, 
 and never care for expense ! — if your debts become inconvenient, you can re- 
 pudiate, and blackguard your creditors as descended from Judas Iscariot ' — 
 Ah ! Mr. Chairman, I was not rocked in the cradle of gentility !" 
 
 Jan. 1-ltli. He -wrote out another .speech on a noted slave case, 
 which at tliat time was attracting much attention. This effort was 
 entitled, " My Speech on Paclieco and liis ISTegro." It was huTnor- 
 ous, but it was a ' settler' ; and it is a pity there is not room for it 
 here. 
 
 Jan. 16th. Tlie Mileage Committee made their report, exonerat- 
 ing member.?, condemning the Expose, and aslving to be excused 
 from further consideration of the subject. 
 
 Jan. 17th. A running debate on Mileage — many suggestions 
 made for the alteration of the law — nothing done — the proposed 
 reform substantially defeated. The following conversation occurred 
 upon the subject of Mr. Greeley's own mileage. Mr. Greeley tells 
 the story himself, heading his letter ' A Dry Haul. 
 
 " The House having resolved itself again into a Committtee of the Whole, 
 
304 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 and tnken up Ihe Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation Bill, on which Mr. Murphj 
 of New York had the floor, I stepped out to attend to some business, and waa 
 rather surprised to learn, on my way back to the Hall, that Mr. M. was mak- 
 ing me the subject of his remarks. As I went in, Mr. M. continued — 
 
 " Murphy. — As the gentleman is now in his seat, I will repeat what I have 
 stated. I said that the gentleman who started this breeze about Mileage, by 
 his publication in the Tribune, has himself charged and received Mileage by 
 the usual instead of the shortest Mail Route. He charges me with taking 
 $3 20 too much, yet I live a mile further than he, and charge but the same. 
 
 " Gheelev. — The gentleman is entirely mistaken. Finding my Mileage was 
 computed at $184 for two hundred and thirty miles, and .seeing that the short- 
 est Mail Route, by the Post-OfiBce Book of 1842, made the distance but two 
 hundred and twenty-five miles, I, about three week.s ago, directed the Ser- 
 geant-at-Arms to correct his schedule and make my Mileage S180 for two 
 hundred and twenty- five miles. I have not inquired since, but presume he has 
 done so. So that I do not charge so much as the gentleman from Brooklyn, 
 though, instead of living nearer, I live some two or three miles further from 
 this city than he c?oes, or fully two hundred and tweuty-uine miles by the 
 shortest Post Route. 
 
 "Richardson of Illinois. — Did not the gentleman make out his own aO' 
 count at two hundred and thirty miles'? 
 
 '' Greeley. — Yes, sir, I did at first ; but, on learning that there was a 
 shorter Post Route than that by which the Mileage from our city had been 
 charged, I stepped at once to the Sergeant's room, informed him of the fact, 
 and desired the proper correction. Living four miles beyond the New York 
 Post OflBce, I might fairly have let the account stand as it was, but I did 
 not.' 
 
 Jan. 18th. Mr. Greeley's own suggestion witli regard to Mile- 
 age appears iu the Tribune : 
 
 " 1. Reduce the Mileage to a generous but not extravagant allowance for 
 the time and expense of traveling ; 
 
 " 2. Reduce the ordinary or minimum pay to $5 per day, or (we prefer) $8 
 for each day of actual service, deducting Sundays, days of adjournment 
 within two hours from the time of assembling, and all absences not caused by 
 sickness ; 
 
 " 3. AVhenever a Member shall have served six ses.sions in either House, or 
 both together, let his pay thenceforward be increased fifty per cent., and after 
 he shall have served twelve years as aforesaid, let it be double that of an or- 
 dinary or new Member ; 
 
 " 4. Pay the Chairman of each Committee, and all the Members of the 
 three most important and laborious Committees of each House, fifty per cent 
 
THE AMENDMENT GAME. • 80 
 
 above the ordinnry rates, and the Chairmen of the three (^or more) most re • 
 Bponsible and laborious Committees of eaeh House (say Ways and Means, Ju- 
 diciary and Cliiims) double the ordinary rates ; the Speaker double or treble, 
 as should be deemed just ; 
 
 "5. Limit the Long Sessions to four months, or half-pay thereafter." 
 
 Jan. 20</i. Anotlier letter appears to-day, exposing some of the 
 expedients by wliicli the time of Congress is -wasted, and the pub- 
 lic business delayed. The bill for the api)ointmcnt of Private 
 Claims' Commissioners was before the IToiise. If it had passed, 
 Congress would have been relieved of one-third of its business, and 
 the claims of individuals against the government would have had 
 a chance of fair adjustment. But no. " Amendment was piled on 
 amendment, half of them merely as excuses for speaking, and so 
 were withdrawn as soon as the Chairman's hammer fell to cutoifthe 
 five-minute speech in full flow. The first section was finally worried 
 through, and the second (there are sixteen) was mouthed over for 
 half an hour or so. At two o'clock an amendment was ready to 
 be voted on, tellers were ordered, and behold ! no quorum. The 
 roll was called ovur ; members came running in from the lobbies 
 and lounging-places ; a large quorum was t\)und present; the Chair- 
 man reported the fact to the Speaker, and the House relapsed into 
 Committee again. The dull, droning business of proi)osing amend- 
 ments which were scarcely heeded, making five-minute speeches 
 that were not listened to, and taking votes where not half voted, 
 and half of those who did were ignorant of what they were voting 
 upon, proceeded some fifteen minutes longer, when the patriotic for- 
 titude of the House gave way, and a motion that the Committee 
 rise prevailed." The bill has not yet been passed. Just claims 
 clamor in vain for liquidation, and doubtful ones are bidlied or 
 maneuvered through. 
 
 Jan. 22d. To-day the House of Representatives covered itself 
 with glory. Mr. (ireeley i)roposed an additional section to the 
 General Appropriation Bill, to the effect, that members should not 
 be paid for attendance when they did not attend, unless their ab- 
 6ence was caused by sickness or public business. "At this very 
 session," said Mr. Greeley in his speech on this occasion, "members 
 have been absent for weeks together, attending to their private 
 
30G ' THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 business, while tliis Committee is almost daily broken up for want 
 «f a quorum in attendance. This is a gross wrong to their con- 
 stituents, to the country, and to those members who remain in their 
 seats, and endeavor to urge forward the public business." 
 
 What followed is thus related by Mr. Greeley in his letter to the 
 Tribune : 
 
 " Whereupon, Hon. Henry C. Murphy, of Brooklyn, (it takes him !) rose and 
 moved the following addition to the proposed new section : 
 
 " ' And there shall also be deducted for such time from the compensation of 
 members, who shall attend the sittings of the House, as they shall be employ- 
 ed in writing for newspapers.' " 
 
 " No objection being made, the Hou.^e, with that exquisite sense of dignitj' 
 and propriety which has characterized its conduct throughout, adopted this 
 amendment. 
 
 " And then the whole section was voted down. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley next, with a view of arresting the prodigal habit which has 
 grown up here of voting a bonus of $250 to each of the sub-clerks, messen- 
 gers, pages, &c., &c., (their name is Legion) of both Houses, moved the fol- 
 lowing new section : 
 
 " ' Sec. 5. And be it further enacted, That it shall not henceforth be lawful 
 for either Houses of Congress to appropriate and pay from its Contingent 
 Fund any gratuity or extra compensation to any person whatever; but every 
 appropriation of public money for gratuities shall be lawful only when ex- 
 pressly approved and passed by both Houses of Congress.' 
 
 " This was voted down of course ; and on the last night or last but one of 
 the session, a motion will doubtless be sprung in each house for the ' usual ' 
 gratuity to these already enormously overpaid attendants, and it will probably 
 pass, though I am informed that it is already contrary to law. But what of 
 that?" 
 
 Jan. 23(Z. An IIonest Man in the House of Representatives of the 
 United States seemed to be a foreign element, a fly in its cup, an 
 ingredient that would not mix, a novelty that disturbed its peace. It 
 Btruggled hard to find a pretext for the expulsion of the offensive 
 person ; but not finding one, the next best thing was to' endeavor 
 to show the country that Horace Greeley was, after all, no better 
 than members of Congress generally. To-day occurred the cele- 
 brated, j'et pitiful. Battle of the Books. Congress, as every one 
 knows, is accustomed aimually to vote each member a small library 
 of books, consisting of public documents, reports, statistics. Mr. 
 
BATTLE OF THE BOOKS. ' 307 
 
 Greeley appro red tlie appropriation i'ov reasons whicli will appear 
 in a moment, and he knew the measure was sure to pass ; yet, un- 
 willing to give certain blackguards of the House a handle against 
 him and against the reforms with which he was identified, he voted 
 formally against the appropriation. It is but fair to all concerned in 
 the Battle, that an account of it, i)ublished in the Congressional 
 Globe, should be given here entire, or nearly so. Accordingly, 
 here it is : 
 
 "In the Hou?o of Representatives on Tuesday, while the General Appro- 
 priation Bill was up, Mr. Edwards, of Ohio, offered the following amendment: 
 " Be U further enacted, That the sums of money appropriated in this bill 
 for books be deducted from the pay of those members who voted for the appro- 
 priation. 
 
 " Mr. Edwards, in explanation, said that he had voted in favor of the appro- 
 priation, and was of course willing that the amendment should operate upon 
 himself precisely as it would upon any other member. He had no apology to 
 make for the vote he had given. He would send to the Clerk's table the'New 
 York 'Tribune' of January 18th, and would request the Clerk to read the 
 paragraph which he (Mr. E ) had marked. 
 " The clerk read the following : 
 
 '"And yet, Mr. Speaker, it has been hinted if not asserted on this floor that 
 I voted for these Congressional books ! I certainly voted against them at 
 every opportunity, when I understood the question. I voted against agreeing 
 to that item of the report of the Committee of the Whole in favor of the De- 
 ficiency bill, and, the item prevailing, I voted against the whole bill, I tried 
 to be against them at every opportunity. But it seems that on some stand-up 
 vote ni Committee of the Whole, when I utterly misunderstood whtft was the 
 question before the Committee, I voted for this item. Gentlemen say I did 
 and I must presume they are right. I certainly never meant to do so. and I 
 did all in my power in the House to defeat this appropriation. But it is com- 
 mon with me in incidental and hasty divisions, when I do not clearly under- 
 stand the point to be decided, to vote with the Chairman of the Committee of 
 Ways and Means, [Mr. Vinton,] who is so generally right and who has spec- 
 ial charge of appropriation bills, and of expediting business generally. Thus 
 only can I have voted for these books, as on all other occasions I certainly 
 voted against them.' 
 
 " The paragraph having been read : 
 
 " Mr. Edwards (addres.^ing Mr. Greeley) said, I wish to inquire of the gen- 
 tleman from New York, if I an, in order, whether that is his editorial ? 
 
 " Mr. Greeley rose. 
 
 [Hubbub for some minutes. After which ] 
 
308 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley said, every gentleman here must remember that that waa 
 but the substance of what he had spoken on this floor. Ills colleague next 
 him [Mr. Riunsey] had told him, that upon one occasion he (Mr. G.) had voted 
 for the appropriation for books when he did not understand the vote. He (Mr. 
 G.) had voted for tellers when a motion was made to pass the item ; but by 
 mistake the Chairman passed over the motion for tellers, and counted him in 
 favor of the item. 
 
 "Mr. Edwards. I understand, then, that the gentleman voted without un- 
 derstanding what he was voting upon, and that he would have voted against 
 taking the books had ho not been mistaken. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley assented. 
 
 " Mr. Edwards. I assert that that declaration is unfounded in fact. I have 
 the proof that the gentleman justified his vote both before and after the voting. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley called for the proof. 
 
 " Mr. Edwards said he held himself responsible, not elsewhere, but here, to 
 prove that the gentleman from New York [Mr. Greeley] had justified his vote 
 in favor of the books both before and after he gave that vote, upon the ground 
 on which they all justified it, and that this editorial was an afterthought, writ- 
 ten because he [Mr. G.] had been twitted by certain newspapers with having 
 voted for the books. He held himself ready to name the persons by whom ho 
 could prove it. 
 
 " [Loud cries of ' Name them ; name them. 'J 
 
 " Mr. Edwards (responding to the repeated invitations which were addressed 
 to him) said, Charles Hudson, Dr. Darling, and Mr. Putnam. 
 
 "[The excitement was very great, and there was much confusion in all 
 parts of the Hull — many members standing in the aisles, or crowding forward 
 to the area and the vicinity of Mr. Greeley.] 
 
 " Mr. Greeley (addressing Mr. Edwards). I say, neither of these gentlemen 
 will say so. 
 
 " Mr. Edwards. I hold myself responsible for the proof. (Addressing Mr. 
 Hudson). Mr. Hudson will come to the stand. [General laughter.] 
 
 " Mr. Greeley. Now, if there is any gentleman who will say that he has un- 
 derstood me to say that I voted for it understandingly, I call upon him to come 
 forward. 
 
 " Mr. Edwards. The gentleman calls for the testimony. Mr. Hudson ia 
 the man — Dr. Darling is the man. 
 
 "[Members had again flocked into the area. There were cries of 'Hudson, 
 Hudson,' ' down in front,' and great disorder throughout the House.] 
 
 "The Chairman again earnestly called to order; and all proceedings were 
 arrested for the moment, in order to obtain order. 
 
 "The House having become partially stilled — 
 
 " Mr. Hudson rose and said : I suppose it is not in order for me to address 
 
BATTLE OF TUE BOOKS. 309 
 
 the Committeo; but, as I have been called upon, if there is no objection, I 
 have no objeoiion on uiy part, to state what I have heard the gentleman from 
 New York [Mr. Greeley J say. 
 
 " [Cries from all quarters, 'Hear hiui, hear him.'] 
 "The Chairman. If there is no objection the gentleman can proceed. 
 " No objection being made — 
 
 «' Mr. Hudson said, I can say, then, that on a particular day, when this 
 book resolution had been before the House— as it was before the House several 
 times, I cannot designate the day— but one day, when we had been passing 
 upon the question of books, in walking from the Capitol, I fell in with my 
 friend from New York, [Mr. Greeley ;] that wo conversed from the Capitol 
 down on to the avenue in relation to these books ; that he stated— as I under- 
 stood him (and I think I could not have been mistaken)— that ho was in favor 
 of the purchase of the books ; that ho either had or should vote for the books, 
 and he stated two reasons : the one was, that some of these publications were 
 of such a character that they would never be published unless there was some 
 public patronage held out to the publishers ; and the other reason was, thai, 
 the other cla,«s of these books at least contained important elements of his- 
 tory, which would be lost unless gathered up and published soon, and as th* 
 distribution of these books was to difluso the information over the community, 
 he was in favor of the purchase of these books ; and that ho himself had suf 
 fercd from not having access to works of this character. That was the sub- 
 stance of the conversation. 
 
 " Mr. Hudson having concluded — 
 '• [There were cries of ' Darling, Darling.'] 
 
 " Mr. Darling rose and (no objection being made) proceeded to say : On ono 
 of the days on which we voted for the books now in question— the day that 
 the appropriation passed the House— I was on my way from tho Capitol, and, 
 passing down the steps, I accidentally came alongside the gentleman from 
 New York, [Mr. Greeley,] who was in conversation with another gentleman— 
 a member of the House- whoso name I do not recollect. I heard him (Mr 
 G.) say he justified tho appropriation for tho books to the members, on the 
 ground of their diffusing general information. He said that in the City of 
 New York he knew of no place where he could go to obtain the information 
 contained in these books ; that although it was supposed that in that place the 
 sources of information were much greater than in almost any other portion of 
 the country, ho would hardly know where to go in that City to find this infor- 
 mation ; and upon this ground that he would support tho resolution in favor 
 of tho books This conversation, tho gentleman will recollect, took place going 
 dovra from the west door of the Capitol and before wo got to tho avonuo. 1 
 do not now recollect the gentleman who was with tho gentleman from New 
 York. 
 
 " Mr. Putnam rose amid loud cries of invitation, and (no objection being 
 
310 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 made,) said : As Jny name has been referred to in relation to thif j^uestion, 
 it is due perhaps to the gentleman from New York [Mr. Greeley] tha-^ I shoulcj 
 state this : That some few days since the gentleman from Ohio [Mr. Edwards 
 called upon me here, and inquired of me whether I had beard my colleague 
 [Mr. Greeley] say anything in relation to his vote as to the books. I that 
 morning had received the paper, and I referred him to the editorial contained 
 therein which has been read by the Clerk ; but I have no recollection of stat- 
 ing to the gentleman from Ohio that I heard my colleague say he justified the 
 vote which ho gave ; nor have I any recollection whatever that I ever heard 
 my colleague say anything upon the subject after the vote given by him. 
 
 "The gentleman from Ohio must have misunderstood me, and it is due to 
 my colleague that this explanation should be made. 
 
 " [Several voices ; ' What did he say before the vote ■?'] 
 
 •' I have no recollection [said Mr. P.] that I ever heard him say anything. 
 
 " Mr. Edwards rose, and wished to know if any of his five minutes was 
 leftl 
 
 " No reply was heard ; but, after some conversation, (being allowed to pro- 
 ceed,) he said, I have stated that I have no apologies to make for giving this 
 vote. I voted for these books for the very reasons which the gentleman from 
 New York [Mr. Greeley] gave to these witnesses. I stated that I could prove 
 by witnesses that the gentleman has given reasons of this kind, and that that 
 editorial was an afterthought. If the House requires any more testimony, 
 it can be had ; but out of the mouths of two witnesses he is condemned. That 
 is scriptural as well as legal. 
 
 " I have not risen to retaliate for anything this editor has said in reference 
 to the subject of mileage. I have been classed among those who have re- 
 ceived excessive mileage. I traveled in coming to Washington forty-three 
 miles further than the Committee paid me ; but I stated before the Committee 
 the reasons why I made the change of route. I had been capsized once 
 
 " The Chairman interposed, and said he felt bound to arrest this debate. 
 
 " [Cries of ' Greeley 1 Greeley !'] 
 
 " Mr. Greeley rose 
 
 " The Chairman stated that it would not be in order for the gentleman to 
 address the House while there was no question pending. 
 
 " [Cries of ' Suspend the rules ; hear him.'l 
 
 " Mr. Tallmadgo rose and inquired if his colleague could not proceed by gen- 
 aral consent ? 
 
 "The Chairman replied in the affirmative 
 
 " No objection was made, and 
 
 « Mr. Greeley proceeded. The gentleman from Massachusetts [Mr. Hud- 
 BonJ simply misunderstood only one thing. He states me to have urged the 
 considerations which he urged to me. He urged these considerations— and I 
 think forcibly. I say now, as I did the other day on the floor of this House, 
 
MR. GREELEY EXPLAINS. 311 
 
 I approre of the appropriation for the books, provided they are honestly di? 
 posed of according to the intent of the appropriation. 
 
 "Mr. Edwards. AVhy, then, did you malie the denial in the Tribune, and 
 say that you voted against itl 
 
 " Mr. Greeley. I did vote against it. I did not vote for it, because I did 
 not choose to have some sort of gentlemen on this floor hawk at me. Tho 
 gentleman from Massachusetts [Mr. Hudson] submitted considerations to me 
 of which I admitted the force. I admit them now; I admit that the House 
 was justifiable in voting for this appropriation, for tho reason ably stated by 
 the Chairman of the Committee of Ways and Moans ; and I think I was 
 justifiable, as this Hall will show, in not voting for it. In no particular was 
 there collision between what I said on this floor, tho editorial, and what I said 
 in conversation. The conversation to which the gentleman from Wisconsin 
 [Mr. Darling] refers is doubtless the same of which the gentleman from Mas 
 sachusetts [Mr. Hudson] has spoken. 
 
 " Mr. G. having concluded — 
 
 " On motion of Mr. Vinton, the Committee rose and reported the bill to tho 
 House, with sundry amendments." 
 
 After the Hurry was over, Mr. Greeley went home and wrote an 
 explanation which appeared a day or two after in the Tribune. It 
 began thus : 
 
 "The attack upon me by Dr. Edwards of Ohio to-day, was entire- 
 ly unexpected. I had never heard nor suspected tliat he cherished 
 ill-will toward me, or took exception to anything I had said or done. 
 I have spoken with hiui almost daily as a friendly acquaintance, 
 and only this naorning had a familiar conference with him respect- 
 ing his report on the importation of adulterated drugs, which has 
 just been presented. I have endeavored through the Tribune to 
 do justice to his spirited and most useful labors on that subject. 
 Neither in word nor look did he ever intimate that he was offended 
 •with me— not even this morning. Conceive, then, my astonish- 
 ment, when, in Committee of tho Whole, after the general appro- 
 priation bill had been gone through by items and sections, he rose, 
 and moving a sham amendment in order to obtain the floor, sent 
 to the clerk's desk to be read, a Tribune containing the substance of 
 my remarks on a recent occasion, repelling the charge that I had 
 voted for the Congressional books, and that liaving been read, he 
 proceeded to pronounce it false, and declare that he had three wit 
 
312 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 nesses in tlie House to prove it. I certainly could not have been 
 
 more surprised liud he drawn a pistol and taken aim at me." 
 ******* 
 
 Jan. 25th. Mr. Greeley (as a member of tlie Committee on pub- 
 lic lands,) reported a bill providing for the reduction of the price 
 of lands bordering on Lake Superior. In Committee of the Whole, 
 he moved to strike from the army appropriation bill the item of 
 $38,000 for the recruiting service, sustaining his amendment by 
 an elaborate speech on the recruiting system. Rejected. Mr. Gree- 
 ley moved, later in the day, that the mileage of officers be calcu- 
 lated by the shortest route. Rejected. The most striking pass- 
 age of the speech on the recruiting system was this : 
 
 " Mr. Chairman, of all the iniquities and rascalities committed in our coun- 
 try, I think those perpetrated in this business of recruiting are among the 
 most flagrant. I doubt whether this government punishes as many frauds in 
 all as it incites by maintaining this system of recruiting. I have seen some- 
 thing of it, and been by hearsay made acquainted with much more. A sim- 
 ple, poor man, somewhat addicted to drinking, awakes from a drunken revel 
 in which he has disgraced himself by some outrage, or inflicted some injury, or 
 has squandered means essential to the support of his family. He is ashamed 
 to enter his home — ashamed to meet the friends who have known him a re- 
 spectable and sober man. At this moment of half insanity and utter horror, 
 the tempter besets him, portrays the joys of a soldier's life in the most glow- 
 ing and seductive colors, and persuades him to enlist. Doubtless men have 
 often been made drunk on purpose to delude them into an enlistment ; for there 
 is (or lately was) a bounty paid to whoever will bring in an acceptable re- 
 cruit to the station. All manner of false inducements are constantly held out 
 — absurd hopes of promotion and glory are incited, and, when not in his right 
 mind, the dupe is fastened for a term which will probably outlast his life. 
 Very soon he repents and begs to be released — his distracted wife pleads — his 
 famishing children implore — but all in vain. Shylock must have his bond, 
 and the husband and father is torn away from them for years — probably for 
 ever. This whole business of recruiting is a systematic robbery of husbands 
 from their wives, fathers from their children, and sons from their widowed and 
 dependent mothers. It is not possible that a Christian people have any need 
 rf such a fabric of iniquity, and I call upon this House to unite in decreeing 
 its abolition." 
 
 Jan. Slst. In Committee of the "Whole, the naval appropriation 
 bill being under consideration, Mr. Greeley offered an amendment 
 
THE LAST NIGHT OF THE &ESSION. 313 
 
 reducing tlie list of warrant officers. Rejected. He also spoke for 
 abolishing the grog system. 
 
 Feh. 1st. Mr. Greeley made a motion to the effect, that no oflB- 
 cer of the nary should he promoted, as long as there were oiners 
 of the higher rank unemployed. Rejected. 
 
 Feb 14:(h. Mr. Greeley submitted the following resolution . 
 
 " Resolved, That the Committee on the Judiciary be instructed to inquire 
 whether there bo anything in our laws or authoritative Judicial decisions 
 which countenances the British doctrine of ' Once a subject always a subject,' 
 and to report what action of Congress, if any, bo necessary to conform the 
 laws and decisions aforesaid, consistently and thoroughly to the American doc- 
 trine, affirming the right of every man to migrate from his native land to 
 some other, and, in becoming a citizen of the latter, to renounce all allegi- 
 ance and responsibility to the former." 
 
 Objected to. The resolution, was therefore, according to the 
 rule, withdrawn. 
 
 Feb. 26th. A proposal having been made that the New Mexico 
 and Texas Boundary Question be referred to the Supreme Court, 
 Mr. Greeley objected, on the ground that the majority of the mem- 
 bers of tliat Court were slaveholders. 
 
 Feb. 27th. The Committee to whom had been referred Mr. Gree- 
 ley's Land Reform Bill, asked leave to be relieved from the further 
 consideration of the subject. Mr. Greeley demanded the yeas and 
 nays. Refused. A motion was made to lay the bill on the table, 
 which was carried, the yeas and nays being again refused. In the 
 debates on the organization of the new territories, California, etc., 
 Mr. Greeley took a spirited part. 
 
 March 4th. The last night of the session had arrived. It was 
 Saturday. The appropriation bills were not yet passed. The bill 
 for the organization of the new territories, acquired by the Mexican 
 war, had still to be acted upon. It was a night of struggle, tur- 
 moil, and violence, though the interests of future empires were con- 
 serned in its deliberations. A few sentences from Mr. Greeley's own 
 narrative will give an idea of the scene : 
 
 14 
 
814 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 " The House met after recess at six— the seats soon filled, the lobbite ani 
 galleries densely crowded. 
 
 " Mimbers striifirgled in wild tumult for the floor. x 
 
 " A vehement yell of ' Mr. Speaker !' rose from the scores who jumped (>n 
 the instant for the floor. 
 
 ******** 
 
 " Here the effect of the Previous Question was exhausted, and the wild ruah 
 of half the House for the floor— the universal yell of ' Mr. Speaker !' was re- 
 newed. 
 
 " The House, still intensely excited, proceeded very irregularly to other 
 business — mainly because they must await the Senate's action on the Thom- 
 son substitute. 
 
 "At length — after weary watching till five o'clock in the morning, when 
 even garrulity had exhausted itself with talking on all manner of frivolous 
 pretexts, and relapsed into grateful silence — when profligacy had been satiated 
 with rascally votes of the public money in gratuities to almost everybody con- 
 nected with Congress, &c., &c.,— word came that the Senate had receded alto- 
 gether from its Walker amendment and everything of the sort, agreeing to the 
 bill as an Appropriation Bill simply, and killing the House amendment by 
 surrendering its own. Close on its heels came the Senate's concurrence in the 
 House bill extending the Revenue Laws to California ; and a message was sent 
 with both bills to rouse Mr. Polk (still President by sufferance) from his first 
 slumbers at the Irving House (whither he had retired from the Capitol some 
 hours before), and procure his signature to the two bills. In due time — ^though 
 it seemed venj long now that it was broad daylight and the excitement was 
 subsiding — word was returned that the President had signed the bills and had 
 nothing further to offer, a message having been sent to the Senate, and the 
 House was ready to adjourn ; Mr. Winthrop made an eloquent and affecting 
 address on relinquishing the Chair ; and the House, a little before seven 
 o'clock in the bright sunshine of this blessed Sunday morning — twice blessed 
 after a cloudy week of fog and mist, snow and rain without, and of fierce con- 
 tention and angry discord within the Capitol — adjourned sine die. 
 
 " The Senate, I understand, has not yet adjourned, but the latter end of i» 
 had gathered in a bundle about the Vice-President's chair, and was still pass- 
 ing extra gratuities to everybody — and if the bottom is not out of the Treas- 
 ury, may be doing so yet for aught I know. Having seen enough of this, I 
 did not go over to their chamber, but came wearily away." 
 
 March 5th. One more glimpse ought to be given at the House 
 
THE "usual gratuity." 315 
 
 during that last niglit of the session. Mr. Greeley explains the 
 methods, the infamous tricks, by which the ' usual' extra allowance 
 to the employes of the House is maneuvered through. 
 
 "Let me," he wrote, "explain the origin of this 'usual' iniquity. I am 
 informed that it commenced at the close of one of the earlier of the Long 
 Sessions now unhappily almost biennial. It was then urged, with some plau- 
 sibility, that a number (perhaps half) of the sub-officers and employes of the 
 House were paid a fixed sum for the session — that, having now been obliged 
 to labor an unusually long term, they were justly entitled to additional pay. 
 The Trensury was full — the e.xpectants wore assiduous and seductive — the 
 Members were generous— (it is so easy for most men to be flush with other 
 people's money)— and the resolution passed. Next session the precedent was 
 pleaded, although the reason for it utterly failed, and the resolution slipped 
 through again— I never siiw how till hast night Thenceforward the thing 
 went easier and easier, until the disease has benomo chronic, and only to be 
 cured by the most determined surgery. 
 
 " Late last night--or r.ather early this moruing — while the Ilouse was 
 awaiting the Cn.al action of the Senate on the Territorial collision — a fresh at- 
 tempt was made to got in the ' iisuiil extra allowance' again. Being objected 
 to and not in order, a direct attempt was made to suspend the Rules, (I think 
 I cannot be mistaken in my recollection,) and defeated — not two-thirds rising 
 in its favor, although the free liquor and trimmings provided by the expect- 
 ants of the bounty had for hours stood open to all comers in a convenient side- 
 room, and a great many h.ad already taken too much. In this dilemma the 
 motion was rcvamj ed into one to suspend the Rules to admit a resolution to 
 ■pay the Chaplain his usual compensation for the Session's service, and I was 
 person.ally and urgently entreated not to resist this, and thus leave the Chap- 
 Iain utterly unpaid. I did resist it, however, not believing it true that no pro- 
 vision had till this hour been made for paying the Chaplain, and suspecting 
 some swindle lay behind it. The appeal was more successful with others, and 
 the Ilouse suspended its Rules to admit this Chaplain-paying resolution, ou" 
 of order. The moment this was done a motion was made to amend the reso- 
 lulion by providing another allowance for somebody or other, and upon this 
 was piled still another amendment — ' Monsieur Tonson come again' -to pay 
 ' the usual extra compensation' to the sub-Clerks, Messengers, Pages, etc., etc 
 As soon as this amendment was reached for consideration — in fact as soon as I 
 could get the floor to do it— I raised the point of order that it could not be in 
 order, when the rules had been suspended for a particular purpose, to let in, 
 under cover of that suspension, an entirely difl'eront proposition, for which, by 
 itself, it was notorious that a suspension could not be obtained. This was 
 promptly overruled, the Ayes and Noes on the amendment refused— ditto on 
 , e Resolution as amended — and the whole crowded through under the Previous 
 
316 THREE JIONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 Question in less than no time. Monroe Edwards would have admired the dsx- 
 terity and celerity of the performance. All that could be obtained was a vote 
 by Teller.", and ninety-four voted in favor to twenty-two against — a bare quo- 
 rum in all, a great many being then in the Senate — none, I believe, at that 
 moment in the 'extra' refectory. But had no such refectory been opened in 
 either end of the Capitol, I believe the personal collisions which disgraced the 
 Nation through its Representatives would not have occurred. I shall not 
 Bpeak further of them — I would not mention them at all if they were not un- 
 happily notorious already." 
 
 March 6th. Mr. Greeley was one of the three thousand persons 
 who attended tlie Inauguration ball, which he describes as "a 
 sweaty, seething, sweltering jam, a crowd of duped foregatherers 
 from all creation." 
 
 " I went," he says, " to see the new President, who had not before come 
 within my contracted range of vision, and to mark the reception accorded to 
 him by the assembled thousands. I came to gaze on stately heads, not nimble 
 feet, and for an hour have been content to gaze on the flitting phantasmagoria 
 of senatorial brows and epauletted shoulders — of orators and brunettes, office- ■ 
 seekers and beauties. I have had ' something too much of this,' and lo ! ' the 
 hour of hours' has come — the buzz of expectation subsides into a murmur of 
 satisfaction — the new President is descending the grand stairway which ter- 
 minates in the ball-room, and the human mass forms in two deep columns to 
 receive him. Between these. General Taylor, supported on either hand, walks 
 through the long saloon and back through other like columns, bowing and 
 greeting with kind familiarity those on this side and on that, paying especial 
 attention to the ladies as is fit, and everywhere welcomed in turn with the most 
 cordial good wishes. All wish him well in his new and arduous position, even 
 those who struggled hardest to prevent his reaching it. 
 
 "But, as at the Inauguration, there is the least possible enthusiasm. Now 
 and then a cheer is attempted, but the result i.s so nearly a failure that the 
 daring leader in the exploit is among the first to laugh at the miscarriage. 
 There is not a bit of heart in it. 
 
 " 'They don't seem to cheer with much unction,' I remarked to a Taylor 
 original. 
 
 " ' Ne-e-o, they don't cheer much,' he as faintly replied ; 'there is a good 
 deal of doubt as to the decorum of cheering at a social ball.' 
 
 "True enough ; the possibility of indecorum was sufficient to check the im- 
 pulse to cheer, and very few passed the barrier. The cheers ' stuck in the 
 throat,' like Macbeth's Amen, and the proprieties of the occasion were well 
 tared for. 
 
 " But just imigine Old Hal walking down that staircase, the just inaugu- 
 
FiLREWELL TO HIS CONSTITUENTS. 317 
 
 rated President of the United States, into the midst of three thousand of the 
 elite of the beauty and chivalry of the AVhig party, and think how the rafters 
 would have quivered with the universal acclamation. Just think of some one 
 stopping to consider whether it might not be indecorous to cheer on such an 
 occasion ! What a solitary hermit that considercr would be ! 
 
 ******** 
 " Let those who will, flatter the chief dispenser of Executive patronage, dis- 
 covering in every act and feature some resemblance to Washington — I am 
 content to wait, and watch, and hope. I burn no incense on his altar, attach 
 no flattering epithets to his name. I turn from this imposing pageant, so rich 
 in glitter, so poor in feeling, to think of him who should have been the central 
 figure of this grand panorama— the distant, the powerless, the unforgotten — 
 ' behind the mountains, but not setting'— the eloquent champion of Liberty in 
 both hemispheres— whose voice thrilled the hearts of the uprising, the long- 
 trampled sons of Leonidas and Xenophon— whose appeals for South American 
 independence were read to the hastily mustered squadrons of Bolivar, and 
 nerved them to sweep from this fair continent the myrmidons of Spanish op- 
 pression. My heart is with him in his far southern abiding-place— with him, 
 the early advocate of African Emancipation; the life-long champion of a diver- 
 " sificd Home Industry; of Internal Improvement; and not less glorious in 
 his later years as the stern reprover of the fatal spirit of conquest and aggress- 
 ion. Let the exulting thousands quaff their red wines at the revel to the vic- 
 tor of Monterey and Buena Vista, while wit points the sentiment with an 
 epigram, and beauty crowns it with her smiles : more grateful to me the still- 
 ness of my lonely chamber, this cup of crystal water in which I honor the 
 cherished memory with the old, familiar aspiration — 
 
 ' Here 's to you, Harry Clay 1'" 
 
 March 9th. Mr. Greeley lias returned to New York. To-day he 
 took leave of liis constituents in a long letter published in the Tri- 
 bune, in which he reviewed the proceedings of the late session, 
 characterized it as a Failure, and declined to take to himself any 
 part of the blame thereof. These were his concluding words : 
 
 «'My work as your servant is done — whether well or ill it remains for you 
 to judge. Very likely I gave the wrong vote on some of the difficult and 
 somplicated questions to which I was called to respond Ay or No with hardly 
 a moment's warning. If so, you can detect and condemn the error ; for my 
 name stands recorde<l in the divisions by Yeas and Nays on every public 
 and all but one private bill, (which was laid on the table the moment the 
 sitting opened, and on which my name had just been passed as I entered the 
 Hall.) I wish it were the usage among us to publish less of speeches and 
 
318 THREE MONTHS IN CONGRESS. 
 
 more of propositions and votes thereupon — it would give the mass of the peo- 
 ple a much clearer insight into the management of their public affairs. My 
 successor being already chosen and commissioned, I shall hardly be suspected 
 of seeking your further kindness, and I shall be heartily rejoiced if ho 
 shall be able to combine equal zeal in your service with greater efficiency — 
 equal fearlessness with greater popularity. That I have been somewhat 
 annoyed at times by some of the consequences of my Mileage E.^pose is 
 true, but I have never wished to recall it, nor have I felt that I owed an 
 apology to any, and I am quite confident, that if you had sent to Washington 
 (as you doubtless might have done) a more sternly honest and fearless Rep- 
 resentative, ho would have made himself more unpopular with a large por- 
 tion of the House than I did. I thank you heartily for the glimpse of public 
 rife which your favor has afforded me, and hope to render it useful hence- 
 forth not to myself only but to the public. In ceasing to be your agent, and 
 returning with renewed zest to my private cares and duties, I have a single 
 additional favor to ask, not of you especially, but of all ; and I am sure my 
 friends at least will grant it without hesitation. It is that you and Ihey will 
 oblige me henceforth by remembering that my name is simply 
 
 "Horace Greeley." 
 
 And thus ended Horace Greeley's three months in Congress. No 
 man ever served his country more faithfully. No man ever received 
 less reward. One would have supposed, that such a manly and 
 Drave endeavor to economize the public money and the public time, 
 such singular devotion to the public interests in the face of opposi- 
 tion, obloquy, insult, would have elicited from the whole country, 
 or at least from many parts of it, cordial expressions of approval. 
 It did not, however. With no applauding shouts was Horace 
 Greeley welcomed on his return from the Seat of Corruption. No 
 enthusiastic mass-meetings of his constituents passed a series of 
 resolutions, approving his course. He has not been named for re- 
 election. Do the people, then, generally feel that an Honest Man 
 is out of place in the Congress of the United States? 
 
 Only from the little town of North Fairfield, Ohio, came a hearty 
 cry of Well Done ! A meeting of the citizens of that place was 
 held for the purpose of expressing their sense of his gallant and 
 honorable conduct. He responded to their applauding resolutions 
 in a characteristic letter. "Let me beg of you," said he, " to think 
 little o( Persons, in this connection, and much of Measures. Should 
 any see fit to tell you that I am dishonest, or ambitious, or hollow- 
 
ASSOCIATION IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 319 
 
 hearted in this matter, don't stop to contradict or confute liiin, but 
 press on Ins attention tlie main question respecting tlio honesty of 
 these crooked charges. It is with these tlie public is concerned; 
 and not this or tli?t man's motives. Calling me a hypocrite or 
 demagogue cannot make a charge of $1,604 for coming to Congress 
 from Illinois and going back ajrain an honest one." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ASSOCIATION IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 Accessions to the corps — The course of the Tribune — Horace Greeley in Ohio — The 
 Rochester linocliings — The mediunis at Mr. Greeley's house — Jenny Lind goes to 
 see tiiein — Her beliavior— Woman's Rights Convention— The Tribuno Association 
 — The hireling system. 
 
 But the Tribune held on its strong, triumphant way. Circula- 
 tion, ever on tlie increase ; advertisements, from twenty to twenty- 
 six columns daily ; supplements, three, four, and five times a week; 
 price increased to a shilling a week witliout loss of subscribers; 
 Europeon reputation extending; correspondence more and more 
 able and various ; editorials more and more elaborate and telling ; 
 new ink infused into the Tribune's swelling veins. Wliat with the 
 supplements and the thickness of the paper, the volumes of 1849 
 and 1850 are of dimensions most huge. "We must look through 
 them, notwithstanding, turning over the broad black leaves swiftly, 
 pausing seldom, lingering never. 
 
 The letter R. attached to the literary notices apprises us that 
 early in 1849, Mr. George Ptii)ley began to lend the Tribune the 
 aid of his various learning and considerate pen. l^ayard Taylor, re- 
 turned from viewing Europe a-foot, is now one of the Tribune 
 corps, and this year he goes to California, and 'opens up ' the land 
 of gold to the view of all the world, by writing a scries of letters, 
 grai)liic and glowing. Mr. Dana comes home and resumes his place 
 in the otfice as manager-general and second-in-command. During 
 
320 ASSOCIATION IN THE TRIDUNE OFFICE, 
 
 tlie disgraceful poriotl of Re-action, William Henry Fry, now the 
 Tribune's sleilge-liannnor, and the country's sliani-deinolisher, then 
 an American in Paris, sent across the Atlantic to the Tribune many 
 a letter of savage protest. Mr. G. G. Foster served up New York 
 in savory 'slices' and dainty 'items.' Horace Greeley confined 
 himself less to the office than before; but whether he went on a 
 tour of observation, or of lecturing, or of political agitation, he 
 Drought all he saw, heard and thought, to bear in enhancing the in- 
 terest and value of his i)aper. 
 
 In 1849, tlie Tiibune, true to its instinct of giving hospitality to 
 every new or revived idea, afforded Proudlion a full hearing in re- 
 views, essays and biography. His maxim, Pkopekty is PvObbkry, a 
 rnaxim felt to be true, and acted upon by the early Christians who 
 had all things in common, furnished a superior text to the conserva- 
 tive papers and jfulpits. As usual, the Tribune was ac(uised of utter- 
 ing those benign words, not of publishing them merely. On the oc- 
 casion of the Astor-Place riot, the Tribune sup[)orted the authorities, 
 and wrote nmch for law and order. In the Hungarian war, the ed- 
 itors of the Tribune took an intense interest, and Mr. Greeley tried 
 hard to condense some of the prevalent enthusiasm into substantial 
 help for the cause. He thought that embroidered Hags and parch- 
 ment addresses were not exactly the commodities of which Kossuth 
 stood most in need, and he proposed the raising of a patriotic loan 
 for Hungary, in shares of a hundred dollars each. "Let each vil- 
 lage, each rural town, each club, make uj) by collections or other- 
 VFise, enougli to take one share of scrii), and so up to as numy 
 as possible ; let our men of wealth and income be personally solic- 
 ited to invest -generously, and let us resolve at least to raise one 
 million dollars otf-hand. Another million will come much easier 
 after the first." But alas 1 soon came the news of the catastrophe. 
 For a reformed code, the Tribune contended powerfully during the 
 wliole time of the agitation of that subject. It welcomed Father 
 Matthew this year — fought Bishop Hughes — discussed slavery— -bo- 
 wailed the fall of Bome — denounced Louis Napoleon — had Consul 
 Walsh, the American apologist of despotism, recalled from Paris — 
 helped Mrs. Putnam finish Bowen of the North American Review 
 — explained to workmen the advantages of association in labor — • 
 assisted Watson G. Uaynes in his crusade against flt)gging in the 
 
THE ROCHESTER KNOCKINGS. 321 
 
 navy — went dond against tlie divorce tlioories of Ilonry James and 
 otlierji — and did wliatsoever else seemed good in its own eyes. 
 Among otiier things, it did tliis : Horace Grecloy being accused 
 by the Evening Post of a corrupt compliancy with the slave inter- 
 est, the Tribune began its reply with these words: 
 
 "You lie, villain! willfully, wickedly, basely lie!" 
 
 This observation called forth much remark at the time. 
 
 Thrice tiie editor of t!ie Tribune visited the Great West this year, 
 and he received many private assurances, though, I believe, no pub- 
 lic ones, that his course in Congress was ai)proved by the Great 
 West. In Cincinnati he received marked attention, which he grace- 
 fully acknowledged in a letter, published May 21st, 1849 : — " I can 
 hardly close this letter without acknowledging the many acts of 
 personal generosity, the unitbrm and i)ositive kindness, with which 
 I was treated by the citizens of the stately Queen of the West. I 
 would not so far misconstrue and outrage these hospitalities as to 
 drag the names of those who tendered them before the public gaze; 
 but I may express in these general terms my regret that time was 
 not afforded me to testify more expressly my appreciation of regards 
 which could not fail to gratify, even while they embarrassed, one so 
 unfitted for and unambitious of personal attentions. In these, the 
 disai)pointment caused by the failure of our expected National Tem- 
 perance Jubilee was quickly forgotten, and only the stern demands 
 of an exacting vocation impelled me to leave so soon a city at once 
 so muniticent and so interesting, the Tuajestic outpost of Free Labor 
 and Free Institutions, in whose every street the sound of the build- 
 er's hammer and trowel speaks so audibly of a growth and great- 
 ness hardly yet begun. Kind friends of Cincinnati and of Southern 
 Ohio! I wave you a grateful farewell!" 
 
 In Decembt-r appeared the first account of the ' Kochester Knock- 
 ings' in the Tribune, in the form of a letter from that most practical 
 of cities. The letter was received and published quite in the ordi- 
 nary course of business, and without the slightest suspicion on the 
 part of the editors, that they were doing an act of historical import- 
 ance. On the contrary, they were disposed to laugh at the myste- 
 rious narrative ; and, a few days after its i)ublication, in rejdy to an 
 anxious corresimndeut, :he paper held the following language :— 
 " For ourselves, we really cannot see that these singular revelations 
 
 14* 
 
o'22 ASSOCIATION IX THE TKIBUXE OFFICE. 
 
 ami experiences have, so tar, amounted to much, "We have yet to 
 hear of a cUxirvo^-ant whose statements concerning facts were relia- 
 ble, or wliose facts were any better than any other person's, or who 
 could discourse rationally without mixing in a projiortion of non- 
 sense. And as for these spirits in Western New York or elsewhere, 
 it strikes us they might be better engaged than in going about to 
 give from one to three knocks on the door in response to success- 
 ive letters of the alphabet ; and we are confident that ghosts who 
 had anything to communicate worth listening to, would hardly 
 stoop to so uninteresting a business as hammering." 
 
 Nor has the Tribune, since, contained one editorial Avord intimat- 
 ing a belief in the spiritual origin of the ' nuxnifestations.' The sub- 
 ject, however, attracted much attention, and, when the Kochester 
 ' mediums' came to the city, Horace Greeley, in the hope of eluci- 
 dating the mystery, invited them to reside at his house, which they 
 did for several weeks. He did not discover, nor has any one dis- 
 covered, the cause of the singular phenomena, but he very soon ar- 
 rived at the conclusion, that, whatever their cause might be, they 
 could be of no practical utility, could throw no light on tlie tortu- 
 ous and difficult path of human life, nor cast any trustworthy 
 gleams into the future. During the stay of the mediums at his 
 house, they were visited by a host of distinguished persons, and, 
 among others, by Jenny Lind, whose behavior on the occasion was 
 not exactly what the devotees of that vocalist would expect. 
 
 At the request of her manager, Mr. Greeley called upon the 
 Nightingale at the Union Hotel, and, in the course of his visit, fell 
 into conversation with gentlemen present on the topic oftlio day, 
 the Spiritual Manifestations. The Swede approached, listened to 
 the conversation with greedy ears, and expressed a desire to witness 
 some of the marvels which she heard described. Mr. Greeley invited 
 her to his house, and the following Sunday morning was appointed 
 for the visit. She came, and a crowd came with her, filling up tho 
 narrow parlor of the house, and rendering anything in the way of 
 calm investigation impossible. Mr. Greeley said as much ; but the 
 ' mediums' entered, and the rappings struck up with vigor, Jenny 
 sitting- on one side of the table and Mr. Greeley on the other. 
 
 '• Take your lumds from under the table," said she to the mastei 
 of the house, with the air of a new duchess. 
 
WOMAX'S RIGHTS COXVENTJON. 323 
 
 It was as though she liad said, ' I did. n't come here to be hnm- 
 bngged, Mr. Palo Face, and you 'd better not try it.' The insulted 
 gentleman raised his hands into the air, and did not request her tc 
 leave the Iiouse, nor manifest in any other way his evidently acute 
 sense of her impertinent conduct. As long as wo worsliip a woman 
 on account of a slight peculiarity in the formation of part of lier 
 throat, the woman so worshiped will give herself airs. The blame 
 is ours, not hers. The rapping continued, and the party retired, 
 after some hours, sufficiently puzzled, but apparently convinced that 
 tliero was no collusion betAveen the table and the ' mediums.' 
 
 The subsequent history of the spiritual movement is well known. 
 It has caused much pain, and harm, and loss. But, like every other 
 Event, its good results, realized and prospective, are greater far 
 than its evil. It has awakened some from the insanity of indiffer- 
 ence, to the insanity of an exclusive devotion to things spiritual. 
 But many spiritualists have stopped short of the latter insanity, and 
 are better men, in every respect, than they were — better, liappier, 
 and more hopeful. It has delivered many from the degrading fear 
 of death and the future, a fear more prevalent, perhaps, tlian is 
 supposed; for men are naturally and justly ashamed of their fears, 
 and do not willingly tell them. Spiritualism, moreover, may be 
 among the means by which tlie wa}' is to be prepared for that gen- 
 eral, that earnest, that fcarltiss consideration of our religious sys 
 tems to which they will, one day, be subjected, and from which the 
 truth in them has nothing to fear, but how much to hope ! 
 
 It was about the same time that the Tribune rendered another 
 service to the country, by publishing a fair and full report of the 
 first Woman's Convention, accompanying the report with respectful 
 and favorable remarks. " It is easy," said the Tribune, " to be 
 smart, to be droll, to be facetious, in opposition to the demands of 
 these Female Refortners ; and, in decrying assumptions so novel 
 and opposed to established habits and usages, a little wit will go a 
 great way. But when a sincere republican is asked to say in sober 
 earnest what adequate reason he can give for refusing the demand 
 of women to an equal participation with men in political rights, ha 
 must answer, None at all. True, he may say that he believes it 
 unwise in them to make the demand — he may say the great major- 
 ity desire no such thing ; that they prefer to devote tlieir time to 
 
• 324 ASSOCIATION IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 the discharge of home duties and tl)e enjoyment of home delights, 
 leaving the functions of legislators, sheriffs, jurymen, militia, to 
 their fathers, husbands, brothers ; yet if, after all, the question recurs, 
 'But suppose tlie women should generally prefer a complete political 
 equality with men, Avhat would you say to that demand?' — the an- 
 swer must be, 'I accede to it. However unwise or mistaken the 
 demand, it is but the assertion of a natural right, and as such must 
 be conceded.' " 
 
 The report of this convention excited much discussion and more 
 ridicule. The ridicule has died away, but the discussion of the subject 
 of woman's rights and wrongs will probably continue until every 
 statute which does wrong to woman is ex|)unged from the laws. 
 And if, before voting goes out of fashion, the ladies should gener- 
 ally desire the happiness, such as it is, of taking part in elections, 
 doubtless that happiness will be conceded them also. 
 
 Meanwhile, an important movement was going on in the ofBce of 
 the Tribune. Since the time when Mr. Greeley practically gave up 
 Fourierism, he had taken a deep interest in the subject of Associa- 
 ted Labor, and in 1848, 1849, and 1850, the Tribune published 
 countless articles, showing workiiigmen how to become their own 
 employers, and share among themselves the profits of their work, 
 instead of letting them go to swell the gains of a 'Boss.' It was 
 but natural that workingmen should r^ply, as they often did, — 'If 
 Association is the right principle on which to conduct business, if it 
 is best, safest, and most just to all concerned, why not try it your- 
 self, O Tribune of the People!' Tliat was precisely what the Tri- 
 bune of the People had long meditated, and, in the year 1849, he 
 and his partner resolved to make the experiment. They were both, 
 at the time, in the enjoyment of incomes superfluously large, and 
 the contemplated change in their business was, therefore, not in- 
 duced by any business exigency. It was the result of a pure, dis- 
 interested attachment to principle ; a desire to add practice to 
 ])r(!aching. 
 
 The establishment was valued by competent judges at a hundred 
 thousand dollars, a low valuation ; for its annual profits amounted 
 to more than thirty thousand dollars. But newspaper property 
 differs from all other. It is won with diflBculty, but it is precarious. 
 An unlucky paragraph may depreciate it one-half; a perverse edi- 
 
THE TRIBUNE ASSOCIATION. 325 
 
 cor, destroy it altogether. It is tangible, and yet intangitle. It is 
 a body and it is a soul. Horace Greeley might have said, The Tri- 
 hune—it is 7, with more truth than the French King could boast, 
 when he made a similar remark touching himself and the State. 
 And Mr. McElrath, glancing round at the types, the subscriptioa 
 books, the iron chest, the mighty heaps of paper, and listening to 
 the thunder of the press in the vaults below, might have been par- 
 doned if he had said. The Tribune — these are tlie Tribune. 
 
 The property was divided into a hundred shares of a thousand 
 dollars each, and a few of them were offered for sale to tlie leading 
 men in each department, the foremen of the composing and press- 
 rooms, the chief clerks and bookkeepers, the most prominent edi- 
 tors. In all, about tw^enty shares were thus disposed of, eacli of the 
 original partners selling six. In some cases, the purchasers paid 
 only a part of the price in cash, and were allowed to pay the re- 
 mainder out of the income of their share. Each share entitled its 
 possessor to one vote in the decisions of tlio company. In the 
 course of time, further sales of shares took place, until the original 
 proprietors w'ere owners of not more than two-thirds of the con- 
 cern. Practically, the power, the controlling voice, belonged still 
 to Messrs. Greeley and McEh-ath ; but the dignity and advantage 
 of OWNERSHIP were conferred on all those who exercised authority 
 in the several departments. And this was the great good of the 
 new system. 
 
 That there is something in being a hired servant which is natur- 
 ally and deeply abhorrent to men is shown by the intense desire 
 that every hireling manifests to escape from that condition. Many 
 are the ties by which man has been bound in industry to his fellow 
 man ; but, of them all, tliat seems to be one of the most unfraternal, 
 unsafe, unfair, and demoralizing. The slave, degraded and defraud- 
 ed as he is, is sry%; the hireling holds his life at the caprice of 
 another man ; for, says Shylock, he takes my life who takes from 
 me my means of living. " How is business V said one employer to 
 another, a few days ago. "Dull," was the reply. "I hold on 
 merely to keep tlie hands in work." Think of that. Merely to 
 keep the hands in work. Merely ! As if there could bo a better 
 reason for ' holding on ;' as if all other reasons combined were not 
 inflnitely inferior in weight to this one of keeping men in work ; 
 
326 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 keejjing men in heart, keeping men in happiness, keeping men ir 
 use! But universal hirelingism is quite inevitable at present, when 
 the governments and institutions most admired may be defined as 
 Organized Distrusts. When we are better, and truer, and wiser, we 
 shall labor together on very different terms than are known to Way- 
 land's Political Economy. Till then, we must live in pitiful estrange- 
 ment from one another, and strive in sorry competition for 
 triumphs which bless not when they are gained. 
 
 The experiment of association in the office of the Tribune, has, 
 to all appearance, worked well. The paper has improved steadily 
 and rapidly. It has lost none of its independence, none of its viva- 
 city, and has gained in weight, wisdom, and infiuence. A vast 
 amount of work of various kinds is done in tlie office, but it is done 
 harmoniously and easily. And of all the proprietors, there is not 
 one, wliether he be editor, printer, or clerk, who does not live in a 
 more stylish house, fare more sumptuously, and dress more expen- 
 sively, than the Editor in Chief. The experiment, however, is in- 
 complete. Nine-tenths of those who assist in the work of the Tri- 
 bune are connected with it solely by the tie of wages, which change 
 not, whether the profits of the establishment fall to zero or rise to 
 the highest notch upon the scale. 
 
 More of association in the next chapter, where our hero appears, 
 for the first time, in the character of author. 
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 HINTS TOWAUDS EEFOEMS. 
 
 The Lecture System — Comparative popularity of the leading Lecturers— Horace Gree- 
 ley at the Tabernacle — His audience — His appearance — His manner of speaking — 
 His occasional addresses— The 'Hints' published— Its one subject, the Emancipa- 
 tion of Labor— The Problems of the Time — The 'successful' man — The duty of the 
 State — The educated class — A narrative for workingmen — The catastrophe. 
 
 Lecturing, of late years, has become, in this country, what is 
 facetio\isly termed ' an institutioi.' And whether we regard it as a 
 
THE LECTURE SYSTEM. 327 
 
 means of public instruction, or as a means of making money, we 
 cannot deny that it is an institution of great importance. 
 
 "The bubble reputation," said Sliakspeare. Reputation is a bub- 
 ble no longer. Reputation, it has been discovered, will ' drmo. 
 Eeputation alorie will draw ! Tliat airy nothing is, through the in- 
 strumentality of the new institution, convertible into solid cash, into 
 a large pile of solid cash. Small fortunes have been made by it in 
 a single winter, by a single lecture or course of lectures. Tliack- 
 erav, by much toil and continuous production, attained an income 
 of seven thousand dollars a year. He crosses the Atlantic, and, in 
 one short season, without producing a line, gains thirteen thousand, 
 and could have gained twice as much if he had been lialf as much 
 a man of business as he is a man of genius. Ik Marvel writes a 
 book or two which brings him great praise and some cash. Then 
 he writes one lecture, and not a very good one either, and trans- 
 mutes a little of his glory into plenty of money, witli Avhich he 
 buys leisure to produce a work worthy of his powers. Bayard Tay- 
 lor roams over a great part of the liabitablo and uninliabitable globe. 
 lie writes letters to the Tribune, very Umg, very fatiguing to write 
 on a journey, and not salable at a high price. He comes home, 
 and siglis, perchance, that there are no more lands to visit. " Lec- 
 ture !" suggests the Tribune, and he lectures. lie carries two or 
 three manuscripts in his carpet-bag, equal to half a dozen of his 
 Tribune letters in bulk. lie ranges the country, far and wide, and 
 brings back money enough to carry him ten times round the world. 
 It was his reputation that did the business. lie earned that money 
 by vears of adventure and endurance in strange and exceedingly 
 hot countries; he gathered iq^ his earnings in three months — earn- 
 ings wliich, but tor the invention of lecturing, he would never have 
 touched a dollar of. Park Benjamin, if he sold his satirical poems 
 to Putnam's Magazine, would get less than hod-carriers' wages , 
 but, selling them directly to the public, at so nmch a liear^ they 
 bring him in, by the time he has supplied all liis customers, five 
 thousand dollars apiece. Lecturing has been commended as an an- 
 tidote to the alleged 'docility' of tiie press, and the alleged dullness 
 of the pulpit. It may be. /praise it because it enables tiie man of 
 letters to get partial payment from the public for the ii'oalculable 
 services which he renders the public. 
 
3^S ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 Lectures are important, tou, as the means by which the public 
 are brought into actual contact and acquaintance with ;he famous 
 men of the country. What a delight it is to see the men whoso 
 writings have charmed, and moved, and formed us! And there is 
 somethuig in the presence of a man, in the living voice, in the eye^ 
 the face, the gesture, that gives to thought and feeling an express- 
 ion for more effective than tlie pen, unassisted by these, can ever at- 
 tain. Horace Greeley is aware of this, and he seldom omits an 
 opportunity of bringing the influence of his presence to bear in in- 
 culcating tlie doctrines to which he is attached. He has been for 
 many years in the liabit of writing one or two lectures in the 
 course of the season, and delivering them as occasion offered. No 
 man, not a professional lecturer, appears oftener on tlie platform 
 than he. In the winter of 1853—4, he lectured, on an average, twice 
 a week. Ho has this advantage over the professional lecturer. 
 The professional lecturer stands before the public in the same posi- 
 tion as an editor ; that is, he is subject to the same necessity to make 
 the banquet palatable to those who pay for it, and who will not 
 come again if they do not like it. But the man whose position is 
 already secure, to whom lecturing is only a subsidiary employment, 
 is free to utter the most unpopular trutlis. 
 
 A statement published last winter, of the proceeds of a course of 
 ectures delivered before the Young Men's Association of Chicago, af- 
 fords a test, though an imperfect one, of the popularity of some of our 
 lecturers. E. P. Whipple, again to borrow the language of the thea- 
 ter, ' drew' seventy-nine dollars ; Horace Mann, ninety-tive ; Geo. W. 
 Curtis, eighty-seven; Dr. Lord, thirty-three; Horace Greeley, one 
 hundred and ninety-three; Theodore Parker, one iiundred and 
 twelve ; W. H. Clianning, thirty-three ; Ralph Waldo Emerson, (did it 
 rain ?) thirty-seven ; Bishop Potter, forty -five ; John G. Saxe, one hun- 
 dred and thirty-five ; W. II. C. Hosmer, twsnty-six ; Bayard Tay- 
 lor (lucky fellow !) two hundred and fifty-two. 
 
 In large cities, the lecturer has to contend with rival attractions, 
 theater, concert, and opera. Ilis performance is subject to a com- 
 )arison with the sermons of distinguished clergymen, of which some 
 are of a quality that no lecture surpasses. To know the import- 
 ance of the popular lecturer, one must reside in a country town, 
 the even tenor of whose way is seldom broken by an event of com- 
 
THE TABERNACLE. 
 
 .nanaiug interest. The arrival of the gr... n,an i. ^^V'^^^J^ 
 ea-a-rnet A committee of tl.e village magnates n.eet l,un at the 
 c ; and escort hiu. to his lodging. There has been e..n,ent...n .ho 
 honld be his entertainer, and the owner of the best house has ar- 
 td off h P i.e. lie is introduced to half the adult populate. 
 T relabvL and an agitation throughout the town, ll.ore .s 
 [ 1 of the distinguished visitor at all the tea-tables, ,n the stores, 
 rid :ll^the p.Sngs of garden.fences._ The larges. ehur.. .^n 
 erally the scene of his triunn-h, and .t ^s a tnun,,.!;. 1 '' ^V ' " 
 ttrstran..er are listened to with attentive adnnrafon, and he un^ 
 ;!::.-rrhey n.ake is not obliterated by the recurrence ot a new 
 excitement on the morrow. 
 
 Hot ,0 ., t„e CU,, .,.. „„,ninj, -;*™Xr D ..1*1 
 nnnearanoe of So bmon m all his gloij, pieceueu u^ 
 Z,n ,uUi .c-vc a, U,e Icamng feature of Ih. nc.,,a„e„ tor one 
 live occasion for a few Oep,-eciat„,,v articta on the n«, ml 
 ,/ ;el,t from ,-en,c,nta-anoe by a new a.to„.l,nK.„t ™ - ' -^^ 
 Yet, as\ve are bore, let us go to tl.e Tabernacle aa,l l,ea, Horace 
 
 "'^ZZ., otl,er„.e called - T„e Cave,' .a el.urel. wl,ie.> 
 loot, a, little like an ec.cle.ia.tical edifice as can be .n,as,ne.l. t 
 i^a lar.,e, circular buiUlins, «-itb a floor slantins .o»ar,ls tl,e plat- 
 :„„_;„ ,, it it bas none-aud galleries tbat rise, rank above rank, 
 learly o the ceiling, wbicl. is s„„„orted W »- tb.ck, su.ootl e - 
 „n,ns tbat stand round what bas been „n,nonsly styled tbe pit, 
 "iridat spectators of a pigmy sln.v. Tbe ,,latforn, ,s so ,. aeed, 
 It be speaker stands not far frou, tbe center o tbe bn.bbng 
 w ir be ee,ns engulfed in a sea of audience tbat swells .and 
 1™, all around and far above bin,. A belter place for an orata- 
 e"fd splay tbe eity does not aiford. It received its cavernous „, k- 
 name ne«ly in derision of tl.e ec„no„,ieal expeud.ture of g.u, tbat 
 rpi-oprietors venture upon wbeu tbey let tbe buddn.g for an 
 e el" entertainment; and the dismal bue ot the walls and e - 
 nmr^ives further propriety to tbe epithet. The Taberuaele 
 contain an audience of three thousand persons. At F--'^' » 
 are not more than six speakers and speakeresses m the United 
 ;utes wbo eao ' draw • it full ; and of these, Horace Greeley ,s no. 
 
)liO 
 
 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 one. His miiuber is about twelve laiiulred. Let us suppose it half 
 past seven, and the twelve lunulred arrived. 
 
 The audience, we observe, has decidedly tlie air of a country au' 
 dience. Fine ladies and tine gentlemen there are none. Of farmers 
 who look as if tliey took the Weekly Tribune and are in town to- 
 night by accident, there are hundreds. City mechanics are present 
 in considerable numbers. An ardent-lonking young man, with a 
 spacious forehead and a turn-over shirt-collar, may be seen here and 
 there. A few ladies in Bloomer costume of surpassing ugliness — 
 the costume, not the ladies — come down the steep aisles now and 
 then, with a well-preserved air of unconsciousness. In thai iissera- 
 bly no one laughs at them. The audience is sturdy, solid-looking, 
 appreciative and opinionative, ready for broad views and broad 
 humor, and hard hits. Every third man is reading a newspaper, 
 for tliey are men of progress, and must make haste to keei) u]) with 
 the times, and the times are fast. Men are going about offering 
 books for sale — perhaps Uncle Tom, perhaps a treatise on Water 
 Cure, and perhaps Horace Greeley's Hints toward Reforms ; but 
 certainly something which belongs to the Nineteenth Century. A 
 good many free and independent citizens keep their liats on, and 
 some 'speak right out in meeting,' as they converse with their 
 neighbors. 
 
 But tlie lecturer enters at the little door under the gallery on the 
 right, and wlien the applause apprizes us of the fact, we catch a 
 glimpse of his bald head and .sweet tace as lie wags his hasty way 
 to the platform, escorted by a few special adherents of the "Cause" 
 he is about to advocate. The newspapers, the hats, the conversa- 
 tion, the book-selling are discontinued, and silent attention is the 
 order of the night. People with ' causes' at their hearts are full of 
 business, and on such occasions there are always some preliminary 
 announcements to be made — of lectures to come, of meetings to be 
 lield, of articles to appear, of days to celebrate, of subscri[)tions to 
 be undertaken. These over, the lecturer rises, takes his place at 
 the desk, and, while the applause, which never fails on any public 
 occasion to greet this man, continues, he opens his lecture, puts on 
 his spectacles, and then, looking up at the audience with an express- 
 ion of inquiring benignity, waits to begin. 
 
 Generally, Mr. Greeley's attire is in a condition of the most hope> 
 
HIS MANNER OF SPEAKING. 
 
 331 
 
 less, ami, as it were, elaborate disorder. It would be applauded on 
 the stape as an excelleut ' make-up.' His dress, it is true, is never 
 unclean, and seldom unsound ; but he usually presents the appear- 
 ance of a man who has been traveling, night and day, for six weeks 
 in a stage-coach, stopping long enough for an occasional hasty ablu- 
 tion, .and a hurried throwing on of clean linen. It must be admit 
 ted, however, that when he is going to deliver a set lecture to a citj 
 audience his apparel does bear marks of an attempted adjustment. 
 But it is the attempt of a man who does something to which he is 
 unaccustomed, and the result is sometimes more surprising than the 
 negleet. On the present occasion, the lecturer, as he stands there 
 writing for the noise to subside, has the air of a farmer, not in his 
 Sunday clothes, but in that intermediate rig, once his Sunday suit, 
 in whfch he attends "the meeting of the trustees," announced last 
 Sunday at church, and which he dons to attend court when a 
 cause is coming on that he is interested in. A most respect- 
 able man ; but the tie of his neckerchief was executed in a lit of 
 abstraction, without the aid of a looking-glass; perhaps in the dark, 
 when he dressed himself this morning before dixy-UgJit— to adopt 
 his own emphasis. 
 
 Silence is restored, and the lecture begins. The voice of the 
 speaker is more like a woman's than a man's, high-pitched, small, 
 soft, but heard with ease in the remotest part of the Tabernacle. 
 His first words are apologetic; they are uttered in a deprecatory, 
 slightly-beseeching tone; and their substance is, 'You must n't, my 
 friends, expect fine words from a rough, busy man like me ; yet such 
 observations as I have been able hastily to note down, I will now 
 submit, though wishing an abler man stood at this moment in my 
 shoes.' He proceeds to read his discourse in a plain, utterly unam- 
 bitious, somewhat too rapid manner, pushing on through any niod- 
 erate degree of applause without waiting. If there is a man in the 
 world who is more un-oratorical than any other— and of course 
 there is such a man— and if that man be not Horace Greeley, I know 
 not where he is to be found. A plain man reading plain sense to 
 plain men; a practical man stating quietly to practical men the 
 results of his thought and observation, stating what he entirely be 
 lieves, what he wants the world to believe, what he knows will not 
 be generally believed in his time, what he is quitt sure will one day 
 
332 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 be nniversally believed, and what lie is perfectly patient with the 
 world for not believing yet. There is no gesticulation, no increased 
 animation at important passages, no glow got up for the closing 
 paragraphs ; no aiming at any sort of eftect whatever ; no warmth 
 of personal feeling against opponents. There is a slirewd humor in 
 the man, however, and his hits excite occasional bursts of laughter; 
 but there is no bitterness in his humor, not the faintest approach to 
 it. An impressive or pathetic passage now and then, which loses 
 none of its effect from the simple, plaintive way in wiiich it is 
 uttei'ed, deepens the silence which prevails in the hall, at the end 
 eliciting warm and general applause, which the speaker 'improves' 
 by drinking a little water. Tlie attention of the audience never 
 flags, and the lecture concludes amid the usual tokens of decided 
 approbation. 
 
 Horace Greeley is, indeed, no orator. Yet some who value 
 oratory less than any other kind of bodily labor, and whom the 
 tricks of elocution offend, except when they are performed on the 
 stage, and even there they should be concealed, have expressed 
 the opinion that Mr, Greeley is, strictly speaking, one of the lest 
 speakers this metropolis can boast. A man, they say, never does 
 a weaker, an unworthier, a more self-demoralizing thing than when 
 he speaks for effect; and of this vice Horace is less guilty than any 
 speaker we are in the habit of hearing, except Ralph Waldo 
 Emerson. Not that he does not make exaggerated statements ; noib 
 that he does not utter sentiments which are only half true ; not 
 that he does not sometimes indulge in language which, when read^ 
 savors of the high-flown. What I mean is, that his public speeches 
 are literally transcripts of the mind whence they emanate. 
 
 At public meetings and public dinners Mr. Greeley is a frequent 
 speaker. Ilis name usually comes at the end of the report, intro- 
 duced with "Horace Greeley being loudly called for, made a few 
 remarks to the following purport." The call is never declined; 
 nor does he ever speak without saying something; and when ho 
 has said it he resumes his seat. He has a way, particularly of late 
 years, of coming to a meeting when it is nearly over, delivering one 
 of his short, enlightening addresses, and then embracing the flrst 
 opportunity that offers of taking an unobserved departure. 
 
 A few words with regard to the subjects upon which Hoi'ace 
 
" HINTS TOWARDS KEFOKMS." 338 
 
 Greeley most loves lo discourse. In IBOO, a volume, contuiiing 
 ten of liis lectures an.l twenty shorter ehhuys, appeared from the 
 press of the Messrs. Harpers, under the title of " Hints toward 
 Reforms." It has had a sale of 2,000 copies. Two or three other 
 lectures have been published in pamphlet form, of which the one 
 entitled '* What the Sister Arts teach as to Farming," delivered be- 
 fore the Indiana State Agricultural Society, at its annual fair at 
 Lafayette in October, 1853, is perhaps the best that Mr. Greeley 
 has svritten. lint let us glance for a momenl at the ' Hints.' The 
 title-page contains three quotations or mottoes, appropriate to the 
 book, and cliaracteristic of the author. They are these : 
 
 " Hasten tlio day, just Heaven ! 
 Accomplish thy (JeHifjn, 
 And let the blessinj^s Thou hast freely given 
 
 l''rei;Iy on all men shine; 
 Till Kqual Uights bo equally enjoyed, 
 And liuman power for human good employed; 
 Till Law, and not the Sovereign, rule sustain 
 And Peace and Virtue undisputed reign. HknuvWare." 
 
 " Listen not to Ihe everlasting Conservative, who pines and whines at 
 every attempt to drive him from the spot where he has so la/.ily cast his an- 
 chor. . . . Every abuse must be aboli.-,hed. The whole sys-tem must be 
 settled on the right ba-sis. Settle it ten limes and settle it wrong, you will 
 have the work lo begin again. Bo satisfied with nothing but the complete 
 enfranchisement of Humanity, and the restoration of man to the imago of 
 Ijjg Qyj Heniiv Wahd Beecheb" 
 
 "Once the welcome Light has broken, 
 
 Who shall say 
 What tho unimaginod glories 
 
 Of the day ^ 
 What tho evil that shall perish 
 
 In its ray 1 
 Aid tho dawning. Tongue and Pen ! 
 Aid it, hopes of honest men ! 
 Aid it, Paper ! aid it, Typo ! 
 Aid it, for tho hour is ripo ! 
 And our oarnoiit must not islacken 
 
 Into play : 
 Men of Thought, and Men of Action, 
 
 Cleab the WAV 1 Chables Mackay." 
 
334 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 The dedication is no less eharaotevlstic. I copy ihat also, as 
 throwing light upon the aim aud uumuer of tl e man : 
 
 " To the g«Derous, the hopeful, the loving, who, firuily and joyfully believ- 
 ing in the impartial and boundless gooduesis of our Father, trust, that the 
 errors, the oriuiee, and the miseries, which have long rendered earth a hell, 
 shall yet be swallowed up aud forgotten, in a far exceeding and unmeasured 
 reign of truth, purity, and bliss, this volume is respectfully aud affectionately 
 inscribed by Thk Author. " 
 
 Earth is not '• a hell.' The expression appears very harsh and 
 very unjust. Earth is uot a hell. Its sum of happiuess is infinitely 
 greater than its sum of misery. It contains scarcely one creature 
 that does not, in the course of its existence, enjoy more than it 
 suffers, that does uot do a greater number of right acts than 
 wrora;. Yet the world as it w, compared with the world as a 
 benevolent heart wishes it to be, is hell-like enough ; so we may, in 
 this sense, but in this sense alone, accept the language of the dedi- 
 cation. 
 
 The preface iuforins us, that the lectures were prompted by invi- 
 tations to address Popular Lyceums and Young Men's Associations, 
 'generally those of the humbler class,' existing in country villages 
 and rural townships. ''They were written," says^ the author, "iu 
 the years from 184:2 to 1848, inclusive, each in haste, to fulfill some 
 engagement already made, for which preparation had been delayed, 
 under the pressure of seeming necessities, to the latest moment 
 allowable. A calling whose exactions are seldom intermitted for a 
 day, never for a longer period, and whose requirements, already ex- 
 cessive, seem perpetually to expand and increase, may well excuse 
 the distraction of thought and rapidity of composition which it 
 renders inevitable. At no time has it seemed practicable to devote 
 a whole day, seldom a full half day, to the production of any of 
 the essays. Not until months after the last of them was written 
 did the idea of collecting and printing them in this shape suggest 
 itself, and a hurried perusal is all that has since been given 
 them." 
 
 The eleven published lectures of Horace Greeley which lie before 
 me, are variously entitled ; but their subject is onk; hcs subject is 
 ever the same ; the object of his public life is single. It is the 
 
THE EMAXC'IPATIOX OF LABOR 335 
 
 'EMAXfiPATiox OF Labor;' its emancipation from ignorance, vice, 
 servitude, insecurity, poverty. This is liis chosen, onJy tliem«, 
 whether lie spealvs from the platform, or writes for the Tribune. If 
 slavery is the subject of discourse, the Dishonor which Slavery does 
 to Labor is the light in which he prefers to present it. If protec- 
 tion—he demands it in the name and for the good of American 
 worMngmen, that their minds may be quickened by diversified em- 
 ployment, their position secured by abundant employment, the 
 farmers enriched by markets near at hand. If Learning— he la- 
 ments the unnatural divorce between Learning and Labor, and ad- 
 vocates their re-union in manual-labor schools. If ' Human Life '— 
 he cannot refrain from reminding his hearers, that "the deep want 
 of the time is, that the vast resources and ca])acities of Mind, the 
 far-stretching powers of Genius and of Science, be brought to bear 
 practically and intimately on Agriculture, the Mechanic Arts, and 
 all the now rude and simple processes of Day-Labor, and not 
 merely that these processes may be perfected and accelerated, 
 but that the benefits of the improvement may accrue in at least 
 equal measure to those whose accustomed means of livelihood — 
 scanty at best — are interfered with and overturned by the change." 
 If the 'Formation of Character' — lie calls upon men who aspire 
 • to possess characters equal to the demands of the time, to "question 
 with firm speech all institutions, ol)servances, customs, that they 
 may determine by what mischance or illusion thriftless Pretense 
 and Knavery shall seem to batten on a brave Prosperity, wliile La- 
 bor vainly begs employment. Skill lacks recompense, and Worth 
 pines fur bread." If Popular Education— he reminds us, that 
 "the narrow, dingy, squalid tenement, calculated to repel any 
 visitor but the cold and the rain, is hardly fitted to foster lofty 
 ideas of Life, its Duties and its Aims. And he who is constrained 
 to ask each morning, 'Where shall I find food for the day?' is 
 at best unlikely often to ask, 'By what good deed shall the day 
 be signalized ?' " Or, in a lighter strain, he tells the story of Tom 
 and the Colonel. "Tom," said a Colonel on the Rio Grande to 
 one of his command, "how can so brave and good a soldier as 
 you are so demean himself as to get drunk at every opportu- 
 nity ?"—"Colone !" replied the private, "how can you expect all 
 
336 ON THK PLATFORM. 
 
 the virtues fliat adorn the human character fur seven dollars a 
 month ?" Tiiat anecdote well illustrates one side of Horace Greeley's 
 view of life. 
 
 The iiri)bleiiis whicli, ho says, at present puzzle the knotted brain 
 of Toil all over tlie world, wliicli incessantly cry out for solution, 
 and can never more be stifled, but will become even more vehe 
 ment, till they are solved, are these: 
 
 " Why should those Inj whose toil all comforts and luxuries are 
 produced^ or viade arailable, eJijoij so scanty a share of them ? Why 
 should a man able and ecujer to worlciCter stand idle for loanl of em- 
 ployment in a world where so much needful worlc impatiently awaits 
 the doing ? Why should a man he required to surrender something 
 of his independence in accepti/ig the employment ichich will enable 
 him to earn by honest effort the bread of his family ? Why should 
 the man who faithfully labors for another^ and receives therefor less 
 than the product of his labor, be currenlly held the obliged party, 
 rather than he who buys the worh and makes a good bargain of it ? 
 In short, Why siiouhl S])eculation and Scheming ride so jauntily in 
 their carriages, si)]asliing honest Work as it trudges humbly and 
 VFearily by on foot ?" 
 
 Who is tlipre so estranged from humanity as never to have pon- 
 dered questions simihir to these, whether he ride jauntily in a car- 
 riage, or trudge wearily on foot? Tliey have been proposed in for- 
 mer ages as abstractions. They are discussed now as though the 
 next generation were to answer them, practically and triumph- 
 antly. 
 
 First of all, the author of Hints toward Reforms admits frankly, 
 and declares emphatically, that the obstacle to the workingman's 
 elevation is tlie workingman's own improvidence, ignorance, and 
 unwortbiness. This side of the case is well presented in a sketch 
 of the career of the ' successful' man of business : 
 
 " A keen observer," says the lecturer, " could have picked him out from 
 among his schoolfellows, and said, ' Here is the lad who will die a bank-presi 
 de&t, owning factories an^i blocks of stores.' Trace his history closely," he 
 continues, " and you find that, in his boyhood, he was provident and frugal — 
 that he shunued expense and dissipation — that he feasted and quaffed seldom, 
 
THE PKODLEMS OF THE TIME. 
 
 337 
 
 unless at others' cost — that he was rarely seen at balls or froiics — that he was 
 diligent in study and in business — that ho did not hesitate to do an wncomforta- 
 blo job, if it biide lair to be profitable— that he husbanded his hours and made 
 each count one, either in earning or in preparing to work efficiently. lie 
 rarely or never stood idle because the business offered him was esteemed un- 
 gcnteel or disagreeable — he laid up a few dollars during his minority, which 
 proved a sensible help to him on going into business for himself — he married 
 seasonably, prudently, respectably — he lived frugally and delved steadily 
 until it clearly became him to live better, and until he could employ his time 
 to better advantiige than at the plow or over the bench. Thus his first thou- 
 sand dollars came slowly but surely ; the ne.xt more easily and readily by the 
 help of the former ; the next of course more easily still ; until now he adds 
 thousands to his hoard with little apparent effort or care. * * * * Talk 
 to such a man ns this of the wants of the poor, and he will answer you, that 
 their sons can afford to smoke and drink freely, which he at their ago could 
 not ; and that he now meets many of these poor in the market, buying luxu- 
 ries that he cannot afford. Dwell on the miseries occasioned by a dearth of 
 employment, and he will reply that he never encountered any such obstacle 
 when poor ; fir when he could find nothing better, he cleaned streets or stables, 
 and vyhen he could not command twenty dollars a month, he fell to work as 
 heartily and cheerfully for ten or five. In vain will you seek to explain to 
 him that his rare f.iculty both of doing and of finding to do — his wise adapta- 
 tion of means to ends in all circumstances, his frugality and others' improvi- 
 dence — are a part of your case — that it is precisely because all are not creat- 
 ' ed so handy, so thrifty, so worldly-wise, as himself, that you seek so to modify 
 the laws and usages of Society that a man may still labor, steadily, efficiently, 
 and live comfortably, although his youth was not improved to the utmost, and 
 though his can never be the hand that transmutes all it touches to gold. Fail- 
 ing here, you urge that at least his children should be guaranteed an unfail- 
 ing opportunity to learn and to earn, and that they, surely, should not suffer 
 nor bo stifled in ignorance because of their parent's imperfections. Still you 
 talk in Greek to the man of substance, unless he be one of the few who have, 
 in acquiring wealth, outgrown the idolatry of it, and learned to regard it truly 
 as a means of doing gooil, and not as an end of earthly effort. If ho be a man 
 of wealth merely, slill cherishing the spirit which impelled him to his life-long 
 endeavor, the world appears to him a vast battle-field, on which some must 
 win victory and glory, while to others are accorded shattered joints and dis- 
 comfiture, and the former could not be, or would lose their zest, without the 
 latter." 
 
 Such is the ' case' of the conservative. So looks the hattlo of 
 life to the victor. With equal complacency the hawk may philoso- 
 phize while he is dif^esting the chicken. But the chicken was of a 
 
 15 
 
338 ox THE PLATFORM. 
 
 different opinion ; and died s(iueaking it to the waving tree-tops, as 
 he was borne irresistibly along to where the hawk could most con- 
 veniently devour him, 
 
 Mr. Greeley does not attempt to refute the argument of the pros- 
 perous conservative. He dwells for a moment upon the fact, that 
 while life is a battle in which men fight, not foi\ but against each 
 other, the victors must necessarihj be few and ever fewer, the vic- 
 tims numberless and ever more hopeless. Resting his argument 
 upon the evident fact that the majority of mankind are poor, unsafe, 
 and uninstructed, lie endeavors to show how the condition of the 
 masses can be alleviated by legislation, and how by their own co- 
 operative exertions. The State, he contends, should ordain, and the 
 law should be fundamental, that no man may own more than a cer- 
 tain, very limited extent of laud ; that the State should fix a defini- 
 tion to the phrase, ' a day's work ;' that the State should see to it, 
 that no child grows up in ignorance ; that the State is bound to 
 prevent the selling of alcoholic beverages. Those who are inter- 
 ested in such subjects will find them amply and ably treated by 
 Mr. Greeley in his published writings. 
 
 But there are two short passages in the volume of Hints toward 
 Keforins, which seem to contain the essence of Horace Greeley's 
 teachings as to the means by which the people are to be elevated, 
 spiritually and materially. The following is extracted from the lec- 
 ture on the Relations of Learning to Labor. It is addressed to the 
 educated and professional classes. 
 
 " Why," asks Horace Greeloy, " should not the educated class create an at- 
 mosphere, not merely of exemplary morals and refined manners, but of pal- 
 pable utility and blessing 7 Why should not the clergyman, the doctor, tho 
 lawyer, of a country town be not merely the patrons and commcnders of 
 every generous idea, the teachers and dispensers of all that is novel in science 
 or noble in philosophy — examplars of integrity, of amenity, and of an all- 
 pervading humanity to those around them — but even in a more material 
 sphere regarded and blessed as universal benefactors? Why should they not 
 bo universally — as I i-ojoice to say that some of them are — models of wisdom 
 and thrift in agriculture — their farms and gardens silent but most effectivo 
 preachers of the benefits of forecast, calculation, thorough knowledge and 
 faithful application! Nay, more : Why should not the educated class be 
 everywhere teachers, through lectures, essays, conversations, as well as prac- 
 tically, of those great and important truths of nature, which chemistry and 
 
THE EDrCATED CLASS. 339 
 
 other sciences aio just revealing to bless the industrial world ? Why should 
 they not unobtrusively and freely teach the farmer, the mechanic, the worker 
 in liny capacity, how best to summon the blind forces of the elements to his 
 aid, and how most effectually to render them subservient to his needs ? All 
 this is clearly within the power of the educated class, if truly educated ; all 
 this is clearly within the sphere of duty appointed them by providence. Let 
 them but do it, and they will stand where they ought to stand, at the head of 
 the community, the directors of public opinion, and the universally recog 
 nized benefactors of the race. 
 
 " I stand before an audience in good part of educated men, and I plead to; 
 the essential independence of their class— not for their sakes only or mainly 
 but for the sake of mankind. I see clearly, or I am strangely bewildered, a 
 deep-rooted and wide-spreading evil which is palsying the influence and par- 
 alyzing the exertions of intellectual and even moral superiority all over our 
 country. The lawyer, so far at least as his livelihood is concerned, is too gen- 
 erally but a lawyer ; he must live by law, or he has no means of living at all. 
 So with the doctor; so alas! with the pastor. He, too, often finds himself 
 surrounded by a large, espen.=ive family, few or none of whom have been sys- 
 tematically trained to earn their bre.ad in the sweat of their brows, and who, 
 even if approaching maturity in life, lean on him for a subsistence. This son 
 must be sent to the academy, and that one to college ; this daughter to an ex- 
 pensive boarding-school, and that must have a piano— and all to be defrayed 
 from his salary, which, however liberal, is scarcely or barely adequate to meet 
 the demands upon it. How shall this man— for man, after all, he is— with ex- 
 penses, and cares, and debts pressing upon him— hope to bo at all times 
 faithful to the responsibilities of his high calling ! He may speak ever so flu- 
 ently and feelingly against sin in the abstract, for that cannot give offense to 
 the most fastidiously sensitive incumbent of the richly furnished hundred-dol- 
 lar pews. But will he dare to rebuke openly, fearlessly, specially, the darling 
 and decorous vices of his most opulent and liberal parishioners— to say to the 
 honored dispenser of liquid poison, ' Your trade is murder, and your wealth 
 the price of perdition !'— To him who amasses wealth by stinting honest labor 
 of its reward and grinding the faces of the poor, ' Do not mock God by put- 
 ting your reluctant dollar into the missionary box— there is no such heathen 
 in New Zealand as yourself !'— and so to every specious hypocrite around him, 
 who patronizes the church to keep to windward of his conscience and freshen 
 the varnish on his character, ' Thou art the man !' I tell you, friends ! he 
 will not, for he cannot afford to, be thoroughly faithful ! One in a thousand 
 may be, and hardly more. We do not half comprehend the profound signifi- 
 cance of that statute of the old church which inflexibly enjoins celibacy on her 
 clergy. The very existence of the church, as a steadfast power above th» 
 multitude, giving law to the people and not receiving its law day by day from 
 them, depends on its maintenance. And if we are ever to enjoy a Christian 
 
340 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 ministry ivhich shall systematically, promptly, fearlessly war upon every 
 shape and disguise of evil— which shall fearlessly grapple with war and slave- 
 ry, and every loathsome device by which man seeks to glut his appetites at 
 the expense of his brother's well-being, it will be secured to us through the 
 instrumentality of the very reform I advocate— a reform which shall render 
 the clergyman independent of his parishioners, and enable him to say man- 
 fully to all, ' You may cease to pay, but I shall not cease to preach, so long as 
 you have sins to reprove, and I have strength to reprove them ! I live in 
 good part by the labor of my hands, and can do so wholly whenever that shall 
 become necessary to the fearless discharge of my duty. 
 
 "A single illustration more, and I draw this long dissertation to a close. I 
 shall speak now more directly to facts within my own knowledge, and which 
 have made on me a deep and mournful impression. I speak to your experi- 
 ence, too, friends of the Phenix and Union Societies — to your future if not to 
 your past experience — and I entreat you to heed me ! Every year sends forth 
 from our Colleges an army of brave youth, who have nearly or quite exhausted 
 their little means in procuring what is termed an education, and must now find 
 some remunerating emploj^ment to sustain them while thej' are more specially 
 fitting themselves for and inducting themselves into a Profession. Some of 
 them find and are perforce contented with some meager clerk.ship ; but the 
 great body of them turn their attention to Literature — to the instruction of 
 their juniors in some school or family, or to the instruction of the world through 
 the Press. Hundreds of them hurry at once to the cities and the journals, 
 seeking employment as essayi.sts or collectors of intelligence — bright visions 
 of Fame in the foreground, and the gaunt wolf Famine hard at their heels. 
 Alas for them ! they do not see that the very circumstances under which they 
 seek admission to the calling they have chosen almost forbid the idea of their 
 succeeding in it. They do not approach the public with thoughts struggling 
 for utterance, but with stomachs craving bread. They seek the Press, not that 
 they may proclaim through it what it would cost their lives to repress, but 
 that they may preserve their souls to their bodies, at some rate. Do you not 
 see under what immense disadvantages one of this band enters upon his selected 
 vocation, if he has the rare fortune to find or make a place in it? lie is sur- 
 rounded, elbowed on every side by anxious hundreds, eager to obtain employ- 
 ment on any terms; he must write not what he feels, but what another needs; 
 must ' regret' or ' rejoice' to order, working for the day, and not venturing to 
 utter a thought which the day does not readily approve. And can you fancy 
 that is the foundation on which to build a lofty and durable renown — a brave 
 and laudable success of any kind 7 I tell you no, young friends ! — the farthest 
 from it possible. There is scarcely any position more perilous to generous 
 impulses and lofty aims — scarcely any which more eminently threatens to sink 
 the Man in the mere schemer and st.iver for subsistence and selfish gratifica- 
 tion, I say, then, in deep earnestness, to every youth who hopes or desires to 
 
THE ORGANIZATION OF LABOR. 341 
 
 become usel 1 to his Race or in any degree eminent through Literature, Seek 
 first of all things a position of pecuniary independence ; learn to live by the 
 labor of j'our hands, the sweat of your face, as a necessary step toward the 
 career you contemplate. If you can earn but three shillings a day by rugged 
 yet moderate toil, learn to live contentedly on two shillings, and so preserve 
 your mental faculties fresh and unworn to read, to observe, to think, thus pre- 
 paring yourself for the ultimate path you have chosen. At length, when a 
 mind crowded with discovered or elaborated truths will have utterance, begia 
 to write sparingly and tersely for the nearest suitable periodical — no matter 
 how humble and obscure — if the thought is in you, it will find its way to those 
 who need it. Seek not compensation for this utterance until compensation 
 shall seek you ; then accept it if an object, and not involving too great sacri- 
 fices of independence and disregard of more immediate duties. In this way 
 alone can something like the proper dignity of the Literary Character be re- 
 stored nnd maintained. But while every man who either is or believes him- 
 self capable of enlightening others, appears only anxious to sell his faculty at 
 the earliest moment and for the largest price, I cannot hope that the Public 
 will be induced to regard very profoundly either the lesson or the teacher." 
 
 Sucli i.s the substance of Horace Greeley's message to the literary 
 and refined. 
 
 I turn now to the lecture on the Organization of Labor, and 
 select from it a short narrative, the perusal of which will enable 
 tl)-e reader to understand the nature of Mr. Greeley's advice to 
 working-men. The story may become historically valuable ; be- 
 cause the principle which it illustrates may be destined to play a 
 great part in the Future of Industry. It may be true, that the 
 despotic principle is not essential to permanence and prosperity, 
 though nothing has yet attained a condition of permanent pros- 
 perity except by virtue of it. But here is the narrative, and it is 
 worthy of profound consideration: 
 
 " The first if not most important movement to be made in advance of our 
 present Social position is the Organization of Labor. This is to bo effect- 
 ed by degraes, by steps, by installments. I propose here, in place of setting 
 forth any formal theory or system of Labor Reform, simply to narrate what I 
 saw and heard of the history and state of an experiment now in progress near 
 Cincinnati, and which differs in no material respects from some dozen or score 
 of others already commenced in various parts of the United States, not to 
 speak of twenty limes as many established by the Working Men of Paris and 
 other portions of France. 
 
 "The business of Ihon-Molding, casting, or whatever it may bo called 
 
342 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 is one of the most extensive and thrifty of the manufactures of Cincinnati, and 
 I believe the labor employed therein is quite as well rewarded as Labor gen- 
 erally. It is entirely paid by the piece, according to an established scale of 
 prices, so that each workman, in whatever department of the business, is paid 
 according to his individual skill and industry, not a rough average of what is 
 ■supposed to be earned by himself and others, as is the case where work is 
 paid for at so much per day, week or month. I know no reason why the Iron- 
 Molders of Cincinnati should not have been as well satisfied with the old 
 ways as anybody else. 
 
 " Yet the system did not ' work well,' even for them. Beyond the general 
 unsteadiness of demand for Labor and the ever-increasing pressure of compe- 
 tition, there was a pretty steadily recurring 'dull season,' commencing about 
 the first of January, when the Winter's call for stoves, Ac, had been sup- 
 plied, and holding on for two or three months, or until the Spring business 
 opened. In this hiatus, the prior savings of the Holders were generally con- 
 sumed — sometimes less, but perhaps oftener more — so that, taking one with 
 another, they did not lay up ten dollars per annum. By-and-by came a col- 
 lision respecting wages and a ' strike,' wherein the Journeymen tried for 
 months the experiment of running their heads against a stone wall. How 
 they came out of it, no matter whether victors or vanquished, the intelligent 
 reader will readily guess. I never heard of any evils so serious and com- 
 plicated as those which eat out the heart of Labor being cured by doing 
 nothing. 
 
 " At length — but I believe after the strike had somehow terminated — some 
 of the Journeymen Holders said to each other : ' Standing idle is not the 
 true cure for our grievances : why not employ ourselves?' They finally con- 
 cluded to try it, and, in the dead of the Wmter of 1847-8, when a great many 
 of their trade were out of employment, the business being unusuall}' depressed, 
 they formed an association under the General Hanufacturing Law of Ohio 
 i' which is very similar to that of New York), and undertook to establish the 
 Journeymen Holders' Union Foundry. There were about twenty of 
 them who put their hands to the work, and the whole amount of capital they 
 could scrape together was two thousand one hundred dollars, held in shares 
 of twenty-five dollars each. With this they purchased an eligible piece of 
 ground, directly on the bank of the Ohio, eight miles below Cincinnati, with 
 which ' the Whitewater Canal' also afibrds the means of ready and cheap 
 •.ommunication With their capital they bought some patterns, flasks, an en- 
 twine and tools, paid for their ground, and five hundred dollars on their first 
 ouilding, which was erected for them partly on long credit by a firm in Cin- 
 einnati, who knew that the property was a perfect security for so much of its 
 lost, and decline taking credit for any benevolence in the matter. Their iron, 
 «oaI, Ac., to commence upon were entirely and necessarily bought on credit. 
 
 " Having ele"ted Directors, a Foreman, and a Business Agent (the last tc 
 
A NARRATIVE FOR WOUKINGMEN. 343 
 
 open a store in Cincinnati, buy stocl\, fell wares, Ac.) the Journeymen's Union 
 set to work, in Auj^ust, 1849. Its accommoilations wore then meager ; they 
 have since been gradually enlarged by additions, until their Foundry is now 
 the most commodious on the river. Their stock of patterns, flasks, &c., has 
 grown to bo one of the best ; while their arrangements for unloading coal and 
 iron, sending off stoves, coking coal, <te., <tc., are almost perfect. They com- 
 menced with ten associates actually at work ; the number has gradually grown 
 to forty ; and there is not a better set of workmen in any foundry in America. 
 I profess to know a little as to the quality of castings, and there are no better 
 than maybe seen in the Foundry of 'Industry' and its store at Cincinnati. 
 And there is obvious reason for this in the fact that every workman i.s a pro- 
 prietor in the concern, and it is his interest to turn out not only hi.s own work 
 in the best order, but to take care that all the rest is of like quality. All is 
 carefully examined before it is sent away, and any found imperfect is con- 
 demned, the lo.«s falling on the causer of it. Eut there is seldom any deserv- 
 ing condemnation. 
 
 " A strict account is kept with every member, who is credited for all he does 
 according to the Cincinnati Scale of Prices, paid so much as ho needs of hia 
 earnings in money, the balance being devoted to the extension of the concern 
 and the payment of its debts, and new stock issued to him therefor. When- 
 ever the debts shall have been paid off, and an adequate supply of implements, 
 teams, stock, <fec., bought or provided for, they expect to pay every man his 
 earnings weekly in cash, as of course they may. I hope, however, they will 
 prefer to buy more land, erect thereon a most substantial and commodious 
 dwelling, surround it with a garden, shade-trees, &c., and resolve to live as 
 well as work like brethren. There are few uses to which a member can put a 
 hundred dollars which might not as well bo subserved by seventy-five if the 
 money of the whole were invested together. 
 
 " The members were earning when I visited them .an average of fifteen dol- 
 lars per week, and meant to keep doing so. Of course they work hard. Many 
 of them live inside of four dollars per week, none go beyond eight. Their 
 Business Agent is one of themselves, who worked with them in the Foundry 
 for some months after it was st.artcd. lie has often been obliged to report, 'I 
 can pay you no money this week,' and never heard a murmur in reply. On 
 one occasion he went down to say, ' There are my books ; you see what I have 
 received and where most of it has gone ; here is one hundred dollars, which is 
 all there is left.' The members consulted, calculated, .and made answer: '"We 
 can pay our board so as to get through another week with fifty dollars, and 
 you had better take back the other fifty, for the business may need it before 
 the week is through.' When I was there, there had been an Iron note to pay, 
 ditto a Coal, and a boat-load of coal to lay in for the winter, sweeping off all 
 the money, so that for more than three weeks no man had had a dollar. Yet 
 DO one had thought of complaining, for all knew that the delay was dictated. 
 
344 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 not by another's interest, but their own. They knew, too, that the assurance 
 of their pnyment did not depend on the frugality or extravagance of some 
 employer, who might swamp the proceeds of his business and their labor in an 
 unlucky speculation, or a sumptuous dwelling, leaving them to whistle for 
 their money. There were their year's earnings visibly around them in stoves 
 and hollow ware, for which they had abundant and eager demand in Cincin- 
 nati, but which a break in the canal had temporarily kept back ; in iron and 
 coal for the winter's work ; in the building over their heads and the imple- 
 ments in their hands. And while other molders have had work ' off and on,' 
 according to the state of the business, no member of the Journeymen's Union 
 has stood idle a day for want of work since their Foundry was first started. 
 Of course, as their capital increases, the danger of being compelled to suspend 
 work at any future day grows less and less continually. 
 
 " The ultimate capital of the Journeymen's Union Foundry (on the pre- 
 sumption that the Foundry is to stand by itself, leaving every member to pro- 
 vide his own home, &c.) is to be eighteen thousand dollars, of which seven 
 thousand dollars has already been paid in, most of it in labor. The remain- 
 der is all subscribed by the several associates, and is to be paid in labor as fast 
 as possible. That done, every man may be paid in cash weekly for his work, 
 and a dividend on his stock at the close of each business year. The workers 
 have saved and invested from three hundred dollars to six hundred dollars 
 each since their commencement in August of last year, though those who 
 have joined since the start have of course earned less. Few or none had laid 
 by so much in five to ten years' working for others as they have in one year 
 working for themselves. The total value of their products up to the time of 
 my visit is thirty thousand dollars, and they were then making at the rate of 
 five thousand dollars' worth per month, which they do not mean to diminish- 
 All the profits of the business, above the cost of doing the work at journey- 
 men's wages, will be distributed among the stockholders in dividends. The 
 oflBcers of the Union are a Managing Agent, Foreman of the Foundry, and 
 five Directors, chosen annually, but who can be changed meantime in case of 
 necessity. A Reading-Roora and Library were to be started directly ; a spa- 
 cious boarding-house (though probably not owned by the Union) will go up 
 this season. No liquor is sold within a long distance of the Union, and there 
 is little or no demand for any. Those original members of the Union who 
 were least favorable to Temperance have seen fit to sell out and go away. 
 
 " Now is it reasonable that the million or so of hireling laborers throughout 
 our country who have work when it suits others' convenience to employ them, 
 and must stand idle perforce when it does not, can read the above simple nar- 
 ration — which I have tried to render as lucid as possible — and not be moved 
 to action thereby ? Suppose they receive all they earn when employed — 
 which of course they generally do not, or how could employers grow rich by 
 merely buying their labor and selling it again 7 — should not the simple fact 
 
TUE CATASTROPHE. 345 
 
 that these Associated Workers never lack einployment when they desire it, 
 and never ask any master's leave to refrain from working when they see fit, 
 arrest public attention? Who is such a slave in soul that he wuld not rather 
 be an equal member of a commonwealth than the subject of a despotism 1 
 Who would not like to taste the sweets of Liberty on woik-d:iys as well as 
 holidays ? Is there a creature so abject that he considers all this mere poetry 
 and moonshine, which a little hard experience will dissipate? Suppose the 
 Cincinnati Iron-Middors' Association should break down, either through some 
 defect in its organization or some dishonesty or other misconduct on the part 
 of one or more of its members — what would that prove ? Would it any more 
 prove the impracticability of Industrial Associations than the shipwreck and 
 death of Columbus, had such a disaster occurred on his second or third voyage 
 to America, would have disproved the existence of the New World ? 
 
 The Btory is incomplete; the catastrojjhe is wanting. It can be 
 told in one word, and that word \s failure! The Union existed 
 about two years. It tlicn brolce up, not, as I am very positively as- 
 sured, from any detect in the system upon which it was conducted ; 
 but from a total stagnation in the market, which not only ruined the 
 co-operators, but others engaged in the same business. They made 
 castings on the co-opei'ative principle, made them well, made them 
 as long as anybody would buy them ; then — stopped. 
 
 The reader of the volume from which I have quoted will find in 
 it much that does less honor to the author's head than his heart. 
 But I defy any one to read it, and not respect the man that wrote 
 it. The kernel of the book is sound. The root of the matter is 
 there. It shows Horace Greeley to be a man whose interest in hu- 
 man welfare is sincere, habitual, innate, and indestructible. Wo all 
 know what is the usual course of a person wlio — as the stuind 
 phrase is — '■rises' from the condition of a manual laborer to a posi- 
 tion of influence and wealth. If our own observation were not 
 sufficient, Thackeray and Curtis have told the whole world the sorry 
 history of the modern snob ; how he ignores his origin, and bends 
 all his little soul to the task of cutting a figure in the circles to 
 which he has gained admittance. 
 
 Twenty men are suftocating in a dungeon— one man, by climb- 
 ing upon the shoulders of some of his companions, and assisted up 
 still higher by the strength of others, escapes, breathes the pure air 
 vf heaven, exults in freedom ! Does he not, instantly and with all 
 
 15* 
 
346 ' THREE MONTHS IN EUUOPE. 
 
 his might, strive for the rescue of his late companions, still suffer- 
 ing ? Is he not prompt with rope, and pole, and ladder, and food, 
 and cheering words ? Bo — the caitiff wanders off to seek his pleas- 
 ure, and makes haste to remove from his person, and his memory 
 too, every trace of his recent misery. This it is to be a snob. 
 No treason like this clings to the skirts of Horace Greeley. He has 
 stood by his Order. The landless, the hireling, the uuinstructed — 
 he was tl)eir Companion once — he is their Champion now. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THREE MONTHS IN" EUROPE. 
 
 [be Voyige out — First impressions of Eniiland— 0])ening of the Exhibition — Cliarac- 
 teristic observulioiis — He attends a grand Banquet— He sees tlie SighlM— He speaki 
 at Exeter Hall — The Play at Devonshire House— Robert Owen's birlli-day — Horace 
 Greeley before a Committee of tJie House of Commons— He throws light upon the 
 subject — Vindicates the American Press— Journey to Paris— The Sii;hts of Paris — 
 The Opera and Ballet— A false Prophet— His opinion of the French— Journey to 
 Italy — Anecdote— A nap in the Diligence— Arrival at Rome— lu the Galleries — 
 Scene in the Coliseum — To England again — Triumph of the American Reaper — A 
 week in Ireland and Scotland — His opinion of the English— Homeward Bound— 
 His arrival— The Extra Tribune. 
 
 "The thint/ called Crysttxl Palace!" This was the language 
 A^hich the intense and spiritual Carlyle thought proper to employ 
 on the only occasion when he alluded to the World's Fair of 1851. 
 And Horace Greeley appears, at first, to have thought little of 
 Prince Albert's scheme, or at least to have taken little interest in it. 
 " We mean," he said, " to attend the World's Fair at London, with 
 very little interest in the show generally, or the people whom it 
 will collect, but with special reference to a subject which seems to 
 us of great and general importance — namely, the improvements re- 
 cently made, or now being made, in the modes of dressing flax and 
 hemp and preparing them to be spun and woven by steam or water- 
 power." " Only adequate knowledge," he thought, was necessary 
 to give a new and profitable direction to Free Labor, both agricul- 
 tural and manufacturing." 
 
THE VOYAGE OUT. 347 
 
 Accordingly, Horace Greeley was one of the two thousand 
 Americans wiio crossed the Atlantic for the purjjose of attending 
 the World's Fair, and, like many others, he seized the opportuni- 
 ty to make a hurried tour of the most accessible ])arts of the Eu- 
 ropean Continent. It was the longest holiday of his life. Holi- 
 day is not tlie word, however. His sky was changed, hut not the 
 man ; and liis labors in Europe were as incessant and arduous as 
 they liad been in America, nor unlike them in kind. A strange ap- 
 parition he among the elegant and leisurely Europeans. Since 
 Franklin's day, no American had appeared in Europe whose 'style' 
 had in it so little of the European as his, nor one who so well and so 
 consistently represented some of the best sides of the American 
 character. lie proved to be one of the Americans who can calmly 
 contemplate a duke, and value him neither the less nor the more on 
 account of his dukeship. Swiftly he traveled. Swiftly we pursue 
 him. 
 
 At noon on Saturday, the sixteenth of April, 1851, the steamship 
 Baltic moved from the wharf at the foot of Canal-street, with Hor- 
 ace Greeley on board as one of her two hundred passengers. It 
 was a chilly, dismal day, with a storm brewing and lowering in the 
 north-east. The wharf was covered with people, as usual on sailing 
 days; and when the huge vessel was seen to be in motion, and the 
 inevitable White Coat was observed among the crowd on her deck, 
 a hearty cheer broke from a group of Mr. Greeley's personal 
 friends, and was cauglit up by the rest of the spectators. He 
 took off his hat and waved response and farewell, while the 
 steamer rolled away like a black cloud, and settled down upon the 
 river. 
 
 The passage was exceedingly disagreeable, though not tempest- 
 uous. The north-easter that hung over the city when the steamer 
 sailed 'clung to her like a brother' all the way over, varying a 
 point or two now and then, but not changing to a fair wind for 
 more than si.x hours. Before four o'clock on the first day — before 
 the steamer had gone five miles from the Hook, the pangs of sea- 
 sickness came over the soul of Horace Greeley, and laid him pros- 
 trate. At six o'clock in the evening, a friend, tvho found him in 
 the smoker's room, helpless, hopeless, and recumbent, persuaded and 
 assisted him to go below, where he had strength only to uu boot 
 
348 THREE MONTHS IN EUROI E. 
 
 aud sway into his berth. There he rem.air ed for twenty-fonr hours. 
 He then managed to crawl upon deck ; but a perpetual bead-wind 
 and cross-sea were too much for so dehcate a system as bis, and he 
 enjoyed not one liour of health and liappiness during the passage. 
 His opinion of the sea, therefore, is unfavorable. He tbougbt, that 
 a sea-voyage of twelve days was about equal, in the amount of 
 misery it inflicts, to two montlis' hard labor in the State Pi-ison, 
 or to the average agony of five years of life on shore. It was a 
 consolation to bim, however, even when most sick and impatient, 
 to think that the gales which were so adverse to the pleasure- 
 seekers of the Baltic, were wafting the emigrant ships, which it 
 hourly passed, all the more swiftly to the land of opportunity and 
 hope. His were ' light afflictions' compared with those of the mul- 
 titudes crowded into their stifling steerages. 
 
 At seven o'clock on the evening of Thursday, the twenty-eighth 
 of April, under sullen skies and a dripping rain, the passengers of 
 the Baltic were taken ashore at Liverpool in a steam-tug, which in 
 New York, thought Mr. Greeley, would be deemed unworthy to 
 convey market-garbage. With regard to the weather, he tells us, 
 in his first letter from England, that he had become reconciled to 
 sullen skies and dripping rains : be wanted to see the thing ont, and 
 would have taken amiss any deceitful smiles of fortune, now that 
 he had learned to dispense with her favors. He advised Ameri- 
 cans, on the day of their departure for Europe, to take a long, ear- 
 nest gaze at the sun, that they might know him again on their re- 
 turn ; for the thing called Sun in England was only shown occasion- 
 ally, and bore a nearer resemblance to a boiled turnip than to its 
 American namesake. 
 
 Liverpool the traveler scarcely saw, and it impressed him un- 
 favorably. The working-class seemed " exceedingly ill-dressed, 
 stolid, abject, and hopeless." Extortion and beggary appeared very 
 prevalent. In a day or two he was oS to London by the Trent 
 Valley Railroad, which passes through one of the finest agricultural 
 districts iu England. 
 
 To most men their first ride in a foreign country is a thrilling 
 and memorable delight. Whatever Horace Greeley may have felt 
 on his journey from Liverpool to London, his remarks upon what 
 he a»?w are the opposite of rapturous; yet, as they are character- 
 
OPENING OF THE EXHIBITION. 349 
 
 istic, tlieyare interesling. The niiiul of tliat nmii is a ' stud} ,' \vl»o, 
 when lie has passed through two hundred miles of ihe enchinting 
 rural scenery of England, and sits down to write a letter about it, 
 begins by describing the construction of the railroad, continues by 
 telling us that much of the land he saw is held at five hundred 
 dollars per acre, that two-thirds of it was 'in grass,' that there are 
 fewer fruit-irees on the two hundred miles of railroad between 
 Liverpool and London, than on the forty miles of the Harlem rail- 
 road nortli of AVhite Plains, that the wooded grounds looked 
 meager and scanty, and that the Avestern towns of America ought 
 to take warning from this fact and preserve some portions of the 
 primeval forest, which, once destroyed, can never be renewed by 
 cultivation in their original grandeur. 'The eye sees what it 
 brought with it the means of seeing,' and these practical observa- 
 tions are inlinitely more welcome than affected sentiment, or even 
 than genuine sentiment inadequately expressed. Besides, the sug- 
 gestion with regard to the primeval forests is good and valuable. 
 On his arrival in London, Mr. Greeley drove to the house of Mr. 
 John Olinpinan, tlie well-known i)ubrKsher, witii whom ho resided 
 during his stay in the metropolis. 
 
 On the first of May the Great E.\hil)ition was opened, and our 
 traveler saw the show both within and without tlie Crystal Palace. 
 The day was a fine one — for England. He tliouglit the London sun- 
 shine a litile superior in brilliancy to American moonlight; and 
 wondered how the government could have the conscience to tax 
 such light. The royal procession, he says, was not much ; a parade 
 of the New York Firemen or Odd Fellows could beat it; but then 
 it was a new thing to see a Queen, a court, and an aristocracy doing 
 honor to industry. lie was glad to see the queen in the pageant, 
 though he could not but feel that her vocation was behind the intel- 
 ligence of tlie age, and likely to go out of fashion at no distant day; 
 but not through her fault. He could not see, however, what the 
 Master of the Buck-hounds, the Groom of the Stole, the Mistress of 
 the Robes, and 'such uncouth fossils,' had to do with a grand ex- 
 iiibition of. the fruits of industry. The Misti-ess of the liobes made 
 no robes ; the Ladies of the Bed-chamber did nothing with beds but 
 Bleep on them. The posts of honor nearest the (Queen's person ought 
 to have been confided to the descendants of Watt and Arkwright, 
 
SoO THREE MOJ«THS IS El'.iOPE. 
 
 •ysxleonV r^*ti conquerors;' while the tomgn amba!;s«t.K>rs shouUl 
 have been the sous of Fitoh, FuUou, Whituoy, Paguenv ami Moi-s*; 
 and the places lesi> cvnispiciious shouUl have beei> asjsigiuxl, not to 
 Gv>Id-stiok, Silvei^tick, and 'ku\dred al>*ui-ditios,' hut to tiiC (Queen's 
 gar\leueKs horticulturistvS oarpoutors, ui>holstei-ei"s and luiUinei's! 
 (Fancy Gohl-stick reading this passage I) The travehM", however, 
 even at such a nionunu is not unnundtul of situih»r nuisances acn»ss 
 the ocean, and pauses to express the hope that we may he abUs be- 
 fore the century is out, to elect 'something else' than (uvnorals to 
 the Presidency. 
 
 Before the arrival of Mr. Oreeloy in London, he had bocu named 
 by the American Conimissioner as a member of the Jury on Hard- 
 ware, etc. There were so few Americans in London at the time, 
 who were not cxlubitors, that he did not feel at liberty to dceliuo 
 the duties of the protlVred post, and accordingly de\oteil nearly 
 everyday, from ten o'clock to three, tor a montli, to an examination 
 of the articles upon whose comparative merits the jury were to de- 
 cide. Few men would have spent their tirst ini>nth in Kuri>pe in 
 the discharge of a duty so onerous, so tedious, aiul so likely to bo 
 thankless. His reward, however, was, that his otlicial position 
 opened to him sources ot' information, gave him tacilitios for t>bser- 
 vatiou, and enabled him to tbrm acqnnintances, that wonUl not liavo 
 been within the compass of a mere spectator oi' the Kxhibition. 
 Among other advantages, it procured him a .^eat at the bnnqnet 
 given at Richuu>nd by the London C'omuiissioncrs lo \\\o ("omniis- 
 sioners from foreign countries, a t'east presided (>\ or l>y IahA .\sii- 
 bm-ton, and attended by an am[)le representation ol' (ho si'ionce, 
 talent, worth and rank ot' botli liemispheres. It was tlie pnrticnlar 
 desire of Lord Ashbnrton that the lioalth of Mr. l'a\toii, tlie Arohi- 
 tect of the Palace, should be proposod by an Amorioaii, iiml Mr. 
 Riddle, the American Commissioner, designated Horace (ireoley lor 
 that service. The speech delivered by him on that occasion, sinco 
 it is short, appropriate, and charactoristic, may propiwly hu\e a 
 place here. Mr. Greeley, being called upon by llie Uliairman, spoke 
 as follows : 
 
 " In my own land, my lords and p;ontlcmon, whoro Nat\iro i.H .still no ri((;>;o(l 
 and uneonqiierod, where Popiiliition i.s yet. so soanty and tiio donuiml.M t'or hu- 
 man exertion are so various ami urgent, it is but nalural thai we .slmiilil rmi- 
 
TIE ATTENDS A GREAT EAXQUET. 351 
 
 der marked honor to Labor, and especiall}- to tbnsc who by invention or dis- 
 covery contribute to shorten the processes and increase the efficiency of Indus- 
 try. It is but natural, therefore, that this grand conception of a comparison 
 of the state of Industry in all Nations, by means of a World's E.\hibition, 
 should there have been received and canvassed with a lively and general in- 
 lerest,— an interest which is not measured by the extent of our contributions. 
 Ours is still one of the youngest of Nations, with few large accumulations of 
 :ho fruits of manufacturing activity or artistic skill, and these so generally 
 jeeded for use that we were not likely to send them three thousand miles 
 Away, merely for show. It is none the less certain that the progress of this 
 great E.xhibition, from its original conception to that perfect realization which 
 we hero commemorate, has been watched and discussed not more earnestly 
 throughout the saloons of Europe, than by the smith's forge and the mechanic's 
 bench in America. Especially the hopes and fears alternately predominant on 
 this side with respect to the edifice required for the E.xhibition— the doubts as 
 to the practicability of erecting one sufficiently capacious and commodious to 
 contain and display the contributions of the whole world— the apprehension 
 that it could not be rendered impervious to water— the confident assertions that 
 it could not be completed in season for opening the Exhibition on the first of 
 M.ay as promised— all found an echo on our shores ; and now the tidiugs that 
 all these doubts have been dispelled, these difficulties removed, will have been 
 hailed there with unmingled satisfaction. 
 
 "I trust, gentlemen, that among the ultimate fruits of this E.^hibition we 
 are to reckon a wider and deeper appreciation of the worth of Lab"r, and 
 especially of those ' Captains of Industry' by whose conceptions and achieve- 
 ments our Race is so rapidly borne onward in its progress to a loftier and 
 more benignant destiny. We shall not be likely to appreciate less fully the 
 merits of the wise Statesmen, by whoso measures a People's thrift and hap- 
 piness are promoted— of the brave Soldier, who joyfully pours out his blood in 
 defense of the rights or in vindication of the honor of his Country—of the 
 Sacred Teacher, by whose precepts and example our steps are guided in the 
 pathway to heaven— if we render fit honor also to those ' Captains of Industry' 
 whose tearless victories redden no river and whoso conquering march is un- 
 marked by the tears of the widow and the cries of the orphan. I give you, 
 therefore, 
 
 " The Health of Joseph Paxton, Esq., Designer of the Crystal Palace— 
 Honor to him whose genius does honor to Industry and to Man !" 
 
 This ppcecli was not published iu tlio newspaper report of tlio 
 banquet, nor was the name of the speaker even mentioned. The 
 omission gave liim an opportunity to retort upon the London Times 
 its assertion, that with the Fnglish press, 'fidelity in reporting is a 
 religion.' The speech was w itten out by Mr. Greeley himself, and 
 
352 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 published in the Tribune. It must be confessed, that the grad .ie 
 of a Vermont iirinting-ofRce made a creditable appearance bUore 
 the 'lords and genilenieti.' 
 
 The .sights in and about London seem to have made no great im- 
 pression on tlie mind of Horace Greeley. He spent a day at Hamp- 
 ton Court, which he oddly describes as larger tlian the Astc. House, 
 but less lofty and containing fewer rooms. "Westminst ,r Abbey 
 appeared to him a mere harharic profusion of lofty ceilings, stained 
 windows, carving, groining, and all manner of contrivances for 
 absorbing labor and money — ' waste, not taste; tlie contortions of the 
 sybil without her inspiration.' The part of the building devoted to 
 public worshi[) he tiionght less adapted to that pur|)ose tlian a fifty- 
 thousand dollar chui-cii in New York. The new fasliion of ' inton- 
 ing 'the service sounded to his ear, as thougli a Friar Tuck had 
 wormed himself into the desk and was trying, under pretense of 
 reading the service, to caricature, as broadly as possible, tiie alleged 
 peculiarity of the metliodistic pulpit super-imposed U|)0n the regular 
 Yankee drawl. Tiie Epsom races he declined to attend for three 
 reasons; he had much to do at home, he did not care a button 
 which of thirty cohs eoidd run fastest, and he j. referred that his 
 deliglit and that of swindlers, robbers, and gamlders, should not 
 'exactly coincide.' He found time, however, to visit the Model 
 Lodging houses, tiie People's Bathing establishments, and a Ragged 
 School. The spectacle of want and woe presented at the Ragged 
 School touclied him nearly. It made him feel, to quote his own 
 language, that "he had hitherto said too little, done too little, dared 
 too little, sacrified too little, to awaken attention to the infernal 
 wrongs and abuses, which are inherent in the very structure and 
 constitution, the nature and essence of civilized society, as it now 
 exists throughout Ciiristendom." He was in haste to be gone from 
 a scene, to look ujion which, as a mere visitor, seemed an insult 
 heaped on injury, an unjustifiable prying into the saddest secrets of 
 the prison-iiouse of human woe; but he apologized for the fancied 
 impertinence by a gift of money. 
 
 While in London, Mr. Greeley attended the anniversary of the 
 British and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, and made a speech of a 
 somewhat nov^l and unexpected nature. The question that was 
 under discussion was, 'What can we Britons do to hasten the over- 
 
HE SPEAKS AT EXETEIl HALL. 353 
 
 throw of Slavery?' Three colored gontlijnicii .and an M. P. liad 
 extolled Britain as tlie land of true freedom and equality, had 
 urged Britons to refuse recognition to ' pro-slavery clergymen,' to 
 avoid using the jtroducts of slave-lahor, and to assist the free-colored 
 people to educate their children. One of the colored orators liad 
 observed the entrance of Horace Greeley, and n.anied him cominend- 
 ingly to tiie audience; whereupon he was invited to take a seat 
 upon the platform, and afterwards to address the meeting; both of 
 which invitations were promptly accepted. He spoke fifteen min- 
 utes. He began by stating the fact, that American Slavery justifies 
 itself mainly on the ground, that the class who live by inanual toil 
 are everywhere, but particularly in England, degraded and ill-re- 
 quited. Therefore, he urged upon English Abolitionists, first, to use 
 systematic exertions to increase the reward of Labor and the com- 
 fort and consideration of the depressed L.aboring Class at liome; 
 and to difTu.-e and ciierish respect for Man as Man, without regard 
 to class, color or vocation. Secondly, to put forth determined ef- 
 forts for the eradication of those Social evils and miseries in Eng- 
 land which are api)ealed to and relied on by slaveholders and their 
 champions everywhere as justifying the continuance of Shivery; 
 and thirdly, to colonize our Slave States by thousands of intelligent, 
 moral, industrious Free Laborers, who will silently and practically 
 dispel the wide-spread delusion which affirms that the Southern 
 States must be cultivated and their great staples produced by Slave 
 Labor, or not at all. 
 
 These suggestions were listened to with respectful attention; but 
 they did not elicit the 'thunder of applause' which had greeted the 
 'Stand-aside-for-I-am-holier-than-thou' oratory of the preceding 
 speakers. 
 
 Our traveler witnessed the second performance at the Devonsliire 
 House, of Biihver's play, 'Not so Bad as we Seem,' for the benefit 
 of the Literary Guild, the characters by Charles Dickens, Douglas 
 Jerrold, and oilier literary notabilities. Not that he hoped much 
 for the success of the project; but it was, at least, an attempt to 
 mend the fortunes of unlucky British authors, whose works ' we 
 Americans habitually steal,' and to whom he, as an individual, felt 
 himself indebted. The price of the tickets for the first perforinance 
 was twenty-five <! ollars. He applied for one too late, and .vas there- 
 
354 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 for'i ol Jgcd to content liiinself with pnrcliasing a ten-dollar ticket 
 for the second. The play, however, he found rather dull than 
 otherwise, the performance heing indehted, he thouglit, for its main 
 interest to the personal character of the actors, who played respect- 
 ably for amateurs, but not well. Dickens was not at home in the 
 leading part, as ' stateliness sits ill upon him ;' but he shone in the 
 scene where, as a bookseller in disguise, he tempts the virtue of a 
 posr author. In the afterpiece, however, in which the novelist 
 personated in rapid succession a lawyer, a servant, a gentleman and 
 an invalid, the acting seemed ' perfect,' and the play was heartily 
 enjoyed throughout. Mr. Greeley thought, that the " raw material 
 of a capital comedian was put to a better use when Charles Dickens 
 took to authorship." It was half-past twelve when the curtain fell, 
 and the audience repaired to a supper room, where the munificence 
 of the Duke of Devonshire had provided a superb and profuse enter- 
 tainment. "I did not venture, at that hour," says the traveler, " to 
 partake ; but those who did would be quite unlikely to repent of it 
 — till morning." He left the ducal mansion at one, just as 'the vio- 
 lins began to give note of coming melody, to which nimble feet 
 were eager to respond.' 
 
 The eightieth birthday of Robert Owen was celebrated on the 
 fourteenth of May, by a dinner at the Colbourne hotel, attended by 
 a few of Mr. Owen's personal friends, among whom Horace Gree- 
 ley was one. " I cannot," wrote Mr. Greeley, " see many things as 
 he does ; it seems to me that he is stone-blind on the side of Faith 
 in the invisible, and exaggerates the truths he perceives until they 
 almost become falsehoods ; but I love his sunny, benevolent nature, 
 I admire his unwearied exertions for what he deems the good of 
 humanity ; and, believing with the great apostle to the Gentiles, 
 that ' Now abide faith, hope, charity ; these three ; but the great- 
 est of these is charity,' I consider him practically a better Chris- 
 tian than half those who, professing to be such, believe more and do 
 less." The only other banquet at which Mr. Greeley was a guest in 
 London during his first visit, was the dinner of the Fishmonger's 
 Company. There he heard a harangue from from Sir James 
 Brooke, the Rajah of Borneo. From reading, he had formed the 
 opinion that the Rajah was doing a good work for civilization 
 aud humanity in B)ruco, but this impression was not confirmed 
 
BEVORE A COMMITTEE OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 355 
 
 by the ornate and Suent speech delivered hy him on this occa- 
 
 sion. 
 
 During Mr. Greeley's stay in London, the repeal of the ' taxes on 
 knowledge' was agitated in and out of parliament. Those taxes 
 were a duty on advertisements, and a stamp-duty of one i)enny per 
 copy on »-3rv periodical containing news. A parliamentary com- 
 mittee, con.<5isting of eight members of the House of Commons, the 
 Rt. Hon. T. Milnor Gibson, Messrs. Tufnell, Ewart, Cobden, Rich, 
 Adair, Hamilton, and Sir J. AVuhnsey, had the subject under con- 
 sideration, and Mr. Greeley, as the representative of the only un- 
 \rammeled press in the world, was invited to give the committee 
 the benefit of his experience. Mr. Greeley's evidence, given in 
 two sessions of the committee, no doubt liad influence upon the 
 subsequent action of parliament. The advertisement duty was en- 
 tirely removed. The penny stamp was retained for revenue rea- 
 sons only, but must finally yield to the demands of the nation. 
 
 The chief part of Mr. Greeley's evidence claims a place in this 
 work, both because of its interesting character, and because it 
 really influenced legislation on a subject of singular importance. 
 He told England what England did not understand before he told 
 her—w?i7/ the Times newspaper was devouring its contemporaries ; 
 and he assisted in preparing the way for that coming penny-press 
 which is destined to play so great a part in tlie future of ' Great 
 England.' 
 
 In reply to a question by the chairman of the committee with re- 
 gard to the effect of the duty upon the advertising business, Mr. 
 Greeley replied substantially as follows : 
 
 " Your duty is the same on the advertisements in a journal with fifty 
 thousand circulation, as in a journal with one thousand, although the value 
 of the article is twenty times as much in the one case as in the other. The 
 duty operates precisely as though you were to lay a ta.x of one shilling a day 
 on every day's labor that a man were to do; to a man whose labor is worth 
 two shillings a day, it would be destructive ; while by a man who earns twen- 
 ty shillings a day, it would be very lightly felt. An advertisement is worth 
 but a certain amount, and the public soon get to know what it is worth ; you 
 put a duty on advertisements and you destroy the value of those coming to 
 oew establishments. People who advertise in your well-established journals, 
 'ouid afford to rav a price to include the duty ; but in a new paper, the adver 
 
356 
 
 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 tisements would not be worth the amount of the duty alone; and consequent- 
 ly the new concern would have no chance Now, the advertisements are one 
 main source of the income of daily pnpers, and thousands of business men 
 take them mainlj' for those advertisements. For instance, at the time when 
 our auctioneers were appointed by law (they were, of course, party | oliticians), 
 one journal, which was high in the confidence of .be party in power, obtained 
 not a law, but an understanding, that all the auctioneers appointed should ad- 
 vertise in that journal. Now, though the journal referred to has ceased to 
 be of that party, and the auctioneers are no longer appointed by the State, 
 yet that journal has almost the m( nopoly of the auctioneers' business to this 
 day. Auctioneers must advertise in it because they know that purchasers are 
 looking there ; and purchasers must take the paper, because they know that it 
 contains just the advertisements they want to see; and this, without regard to 
 the goodness or the principles of the paper. I know men in this town who 
 take one journal mainly for its advertisements, and they must take the Times, 
 because everything is advertised in it ; for the same reason, advertisers must 
 advertise in the Times. If we had a duty on advertisements, I will not say 
 it would be impossible to build a new concern up in New York against the 
 competition of the older ones ; but I do say, it would be impossible to preserve 
 the weaker papers from being swallowed up by the stronger." 
 
 Mr. CoBDEN. " Do you then consider the fact, that the Times newspaper 
 for the last fifteen years has been increasing so largely in circulation, is to be 
 accounted for mainly by the existence of the advertisement duty?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. "Yes; much more than the stamp. By the operation of the 
 advertisement duty, an advertisement is charged ten times as much in one 
 paper as in another. An advertisement in the Times may be worth five 
 pounds, while in another pnper it is only worth one pound ; but the duty is 
 the same." 
 
 Mr. Rich. "The greater the number of small advertisements in papers, 
 the greater the advantage to their propiietors?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. "Yes. Suppose the cost of a small advertisement to be five 
 shillings, the usual charge in the Times ; if you have to pay a shilling or 
 eighteen pence duty, that advertisement is worth nothing in a journal with a 
 fourth part of the circulation of the Times " 
 
 Chairman. " Does it not appear to you that the taxes on the press are 
 hostile to one another ; in the fir.^t place, lessening the circulation of papers 
 by means of the stamp duty, we diminish the consumption of paper, and 
 therefore lessen the amount of paper duty ; secondly, by diminishing the sale 
 of papers through the stamp, we lessen the number of advertisemonts, and 
 therefore the receipts of the advertisement duty ?" 
 
 Mr. Gkeeley. " I should say that if the government were, simply as a mat- 
 ter of revenue, to fix a duty, say of half a pennj' per pound, on paper, it would 
 be easily collected, and pn duce more money ; ( iid then, a law which is equal 
 
HE THROWS LIGHT UPON THE SUBJE.CT. 357 
 
 In Us operation does not require any considcrablo number of officers to collect 
 the dut}', and it would require no particular vigilance ; and the duty on paper 
 alone would bo most equal and most efficient as a revenue duty." 
 
 Chairman. " It is clear, then, that the efTcct of the stamp and advertise- 
 ment duty is to lessen the amount of the receipt from the duty on paper.'' 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Enormously. I see that the circulation of daily papers in 
 London is but sixty thousand, against a hundred thousand in New York ; 
 while the tendency is more to concentrate on London than on New York. Not 
 a tenth part of our daily papers are printed in New York." 
 
 Mr. CoBDEN. " Do you consider, that there are upwards of a million papers 
 issued daily from the press in the United States V 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " I should say about a million : I cannot say upwards. I 
 think there are about two hundred and fifty daily journals published in the 
 United States." 
 
 Mr. Cobden. "At what amount of population does a town in the United 
 Stales begin to have a daily paper 1 They first of all begin with a weekly 
 paper, do they not V 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Yes. The general rule is, that each county will have one 
 weekly newspaper. In all the Free States, if a county have a population of 
 twenty thousand, it has two papers, one for each party. The general average 
 in the agricultural counties is one local journal to every ten thousand inhab- 
 itants. When a town grows to have fifteen thousand inhabitants in and about 
 it, then it has a daily paper ; but sometimes that is the case when it has as few 
 as ten thousand : it depends more on the business of a place than its popula- 
 tion. But fifteen thousand may be stated as the average at which a daily pa- 
 per commences ; at twenty thousand they have two, and so on. In central 
 towns, like Buffalo, Rochester, Troy, they have from three to five daily jour- 
 nals, each of which prints a semi-weekly or a weekly journal." 
 
 Mr. Rich. " Have your papers much circulation outside the towns in which 
 they are published?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " The county is the genera! limit ; though some have a 
 judicial district of five or six counties." 
 
 Mr. Rich. " Would the New York paper, for instance, have much circula- 
 tion in Charleston V 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " The New York Herald, I think, which is considered the 
 journal most friendly to Southern interests, has a considerable circula- 
 tion there." 
 
 Chair.man. " When a person proposes to publish a paper in New York, he 
 is not required to go to any office to register himself, or to give security that 
 he will not insert libels or seditious matter? A newspaper publisher is not 
 subject to any liability more than other persons ?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. "No; no more than a man that starts a blacksmith's 
 •hop." 
 
358 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 Chairman. 'They do not presume in the United States, that because a 
 man is going to print news in a paper, he is going to libel'?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " No ; nor do they presume that his libeling would be 
 worth much, unless he is a responsible character." 
 
 Mr. CouDEN. "From what you have stated with regard to the circulation 
 of the daily papers in New York, it appears that a very large proportion of the 
 adult population must be customers for them '.'" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Yes ; I think three-fourths of all the families take a dailj 
 paper of some kind." 
 
 Mr. Cobden. " The purchasers of the daily papers must consist of a differ- 
 ent class from those in England ; mechanics must purchase them?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. '■ Every mechanic takes a paper, or nearly every one." 
 
 Mr. Cobden. " Do those people generally get them before they leave home 
 for their work ']" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Yes ; and you are complained of if you do not furnish a 
 man with his newspaper at his breakfast ; he wants to road it between six or 
 seven usually." 
 
 Mr. CoBDE^J. " Then a ship-builder, or a cooper, or a joiner, needs his daily 
 paper at his breakfast-time 1" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. "Yes; and he may take it with him to read at his dinner 
 between twelve and one ; but the rule is, that he wants his paper at his break- 
 fast" 
 
 Mr. Cobden. " After he has finished his breakfast or his dinner, he may 
 be found reading the daily newspaper, just as the people of the upper classes 
 do in England?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. "Yes; if they do." 
 
 Mr. Cobden. " And that is quite common, is it not?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Almost universal, I think. There is a very low class, a 
 good many foreigners, who do not know how to read ; but no native, I think." 
 
 Mr. EwART. " Do the agricultural laborers read much ?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Yes ; they take our weekly papers, which they receive 
 through the post generally." 
 
 Mr. Cobden. "The working people in Now York are not in the habit of 
 resorting to public-houses to read the newspapers, are they ?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " They go to public-houses, but not to read the papers. It 
 is not the general practice ; but, still, wo have quite a class who do so." 
 
 Mr. Cobden. " The newspapers, then, is not the attraction to the public- 
 house?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. "No. I think a very small proportion of our reading class 
 go there at all ; those that I have seen there are mainly the foreign popula 
 tion, those who do not read." 
 
 Chairman. " Are there any papers published in New York, or in other 
 parts, which may be said to be of an obscene or immoral character ?" 
 
VINDICATES THE AMERICAN PRESb. 
 
 359 
 
 Mr.QHEELEY. " We call tho New York Ilcriild a very bad paper— those 
 who do not like it ; but that is not the cheapest." 
 
 Chairman. " Have you heard of a paper called the ' The Town,' publish- 
 ed in thi.s country, with pictures of a certain character in it 1 Ilavo you any 
 publications in the United States of that character?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Not daily papers. There are weekly papers got up from 
 time to time called tho ' Scorpion,' tho ' Flash,' and so on, whose purpose \i to 
 extort money from parties who can be threatened with exposure of immora 
 practices, or for visiting infamous houses." 
 Mr. EwAHT. " They do not last, do they ?" 
 
 Mr Greeley. " I do not know of any one being continued for any con- 
 siderable time. If one dies, another is got up, and that goes down. Our 
 cheap daily papers, the very cheapest, are, as a class, quite as discreet in their 
 conduct and conversation as other journals. They do not embody tho same 
 amount of talent ; they devote themselves mainly to news. They are not 
 party journals ; they are nominally independent; they are not given to harsh 
 language with regard to public men : they arc very moderate. 
 
 Mr. EwART. " Is Bcurility or personality common in the publications of 
 the United States'?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley*. " It is not common ; it is much less frequent than it was; 
 but it is not absolutely unknown." 
 
 Mr. CoBDEN. " What is tho circulation of tho New York Herald?" 
 Mr. Greeley. " Twenty-five thousand, I believe." 
 Mr. CoBDEN. " Is that an influential paper in America V 
 Mr. Greeley. " I think not." 
 
 Mr. CoBDEN. " It has a higher reputation in Europe probably than at home.' 
 Mr. Greeley. " A certain class of journals in this country find it their in 
 terest or pleasure to quote it a good deal." 
 
 Chairman. " As the demand is extensive, is thn remuneration for tho ser- 
 vices of the literary men who are employed on the pres.s, good?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Tho prices of literary labor are more moderate than in this 
 country. The highest salary, I think, that would bo commanded by any one 
 connected with the press would be five thousand dollars— the highest that 
 could be thought of. I have not heard of higher than three thousand." 
 Mr. Rich. " What would be about tho ordinary remuneration?" 
 Mr. Greeley. "In our own concern it is, besides tho principal editor, from 
 fifteen hundred dollars down to five hundred. I think that is the usual range.' 
 Chairman. " Are your leading men in America, in point of literary abil- 
 ity, employed from time to time upon tho press as an occupation ?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " It is beginning to be so, but it has not been tho custom 
 There have been leading men connected with tho press ; but tho press has not 
 been usually conducted by the most powerful men. With a few exceptions, 
 the leading political journals are conducted ably, and they are becoming more 
 
360 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 so; and, with a wider diffusion of the circulation, the press is mort able to jay 
 for it." 
 
 Mr. Rich. " Is it a profession apart ?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " No ; usually the men have been brought up to the bar, to 
 the pulpit, and so on ; they are literary men." 
 
 Chairman. " I presume that the non-reading class in the United States is 
 a very limited one?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Yes ; except in the Slave States." 
 
 Chairman. " Do not you consider that newspaper reading is calculated to 
 keep up a habit of reading?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. "I think it is worth all the schools in the country. I think 
 it creates a taste for reading in every child's mind, and it increases his inter- 
 est in his lessons ; he is attracted from always seeing a newspaper and hear- 
 ing it read, I think." 
 
 Chairman. " Supposing that you had your schools as now, but that your 
 newspaper press were reduced within the limits of the prets in England, do 
 you not think that the habit of reading acquired at school would be frequently 
 laid aside ?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " I think that the habit would not be acquired, and that 
 paper reading would fall into disuse." 
 
 Mr. Ewart. "Having observed both countries, can you state whether the 
 press has greater influence on public opinion in the United States than in Eng- 
 land, or tliQ reverse ?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " I think it has more influence with us. I do not know that 
 any class is despotically governed by the press, but its influence is more uni- 
 versal ; ever}' one reads and talks about it with us, and more weight is laid 
 upon intelligence than on editorials; the paper which brings the quickest news 
 is the thing looked to." 
 
 Mr. Ewart. "The leading article has not so much influence as in England?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " No ; the telegraphic dispatch is the great point." 
 
 Mr. CoBDEN. " Observing our newspapers and comparing them with the 
 American papers, do you find that we make much less use of the electric tele- 
 graph for transmitting news than in America?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " Not a hundredth part as much as we do." 
 
 Mr. CoBDEN. " An impression prevails in this country that our newspaper 
 press incurs a great deal more expense to expedite new3 than you do in New 
 York. Are you of that opinion ?" 
 
 Mr. Greeley. " I do not know what your expense is. I should say that a 
 hundred thousand dollars a year is paid by our association of the six leading 
 daily papers, besides what each gets separately for itself." 
 
 Mr. CoBDEN. " Twenty thousand pounds a year is paid by your associ- 
 ation, consisting of six papers, for what you get in common?" 
 
 Mr. Geeeley. " Yes ; we telegraph a great deal in the United States. As- 
 
THE SIGHTS OF PARIS. 361 
 
 guming that a scientific meeting was held at Cincinnati this ycAr, we should 
 telegraph the reports from that place, and I presume other journals would 
 have special reporters to report the proceedings at length. We have a report 
 everyday, fifteen hundred miles, from New Orleans daily; from St. Louia 
 too, and other places." 
 
 "The Committee then adjourned." 
 
 On Saturday iiiorniiig, tlic scventli of June, after a residence of 
 seven busy weeks in London, our traveler left tliat ' magnificent 
 Babel,' for Paris, selecting the dearest and, of course, the quickest 
 route. Dover, quaint and curious Dover, lie tliouglit a 'mean old 
 town ;' and the steamboat which conveyed him from Dover to 
 Calais was ' one of those long, black, narrow scow-contrivancea, 
 about equal to a buttonwood dug-out, wliicli England appears to 
 delight in.' Two hours of deadly sea-sickness, and he stood on the 
 shores of France. At Calais, which he styles 'a queer old town,' 
 he was detained a long hour, obtained an execrable dinner for 
 thirty-seven and a half cents, and changed some sovereigns for 
 French money, 'at a shave which was not atrocious.' Then away 
 to Paris by the swiftest train, arriving at half-past two on Sunday 
 morning, four hours after the time i)romised in the enticing adver- 
 tisement of the route. The ordeal of the custom-house he passed 
 with little delay. "I did not," ho says, "at first comprehend, that 
 the number on my trunk, standing out fair before me iu hon- 
 est, unequivocal Arabic figures, could possibly mean anything but 
 'fifty-two;' but a friend cautioned me iu season that tliose figures 
 si)elled 'cinquante-deus,' or phonetically 'sank-ou-du' to the ollicer, 
 and I made my first attempt at mouthing French accordingly, and 
 succeeded in making myself intelligible." 
 
 About daylight on Sunday morning, he reached the Hotel Choi- 
 seul. Rue St. Honorc, where he found shelter, but not bed. After 
 breakfast, however, he sallied forth and saw his first sight in Paris, 
 high mass at the Church of the Madeleine ; which he thought a 
 gorgeous, but 'inexplicable dumb show.' 
 
 Eight days were all that the indefatigable man could afford to a 
 stay in the gay capital ; but he improved the time. Tiie obeli.sk of 
 Luxor, brought from the banks of the Nile, and covered with mys- 
 terious inscriptions, that had braved the winds and rains of four 
 thousand years, impressed him more deeply than any object he had 
 
 16 
 
8C2 THREE MONTUS IN EUROPE. 
 
 seen in Europe. The Tuileries were to liis eye only an irregular 
 mass of Iniildings with little architectural beauty, and remarkable 
 chiefly lur their magnitude. At the French Opera, he saw the 
 musical spectacle of Azael the Prodigal, or rather, three acts of it; 
 for his patience gave way at the end of the third act. "Such a 
 medley of drinking, praying, dancing, idol-worship, and Delilah- 
 craft he had never before encountered." To comprehend an Eng- 
 lishman, he says, follow him to the fireside ; a Frenchman, join him 
 at the opera, and contemplate him during the performance of the bal- 
 let, of which France is the cradle and the home. " Though no frm- 
 titioner^'''' he adds, " I am yet a lover of tlie dance ;" but the attitudes 
 and contortions of the ballet are disagreeable and tasteless, and 
 the tendency of such a performance as lie that night beheld, was 
 earthy, sensual, devilish. Notre Dame he thought not only the 
 finest church, but the most impo^^ing edifice in Paris, infinitely supe- 
 rior, as a place of worship, to the damp, gloomy, dungeon-like 
 Westminster Abbey. The Hotel de Ville, like the New York City 
 Hall, ' lacks another story.' In tlie Palace of Versailles, he saw fresh 
 proofs of the selfishness of king-craft, the long-suffering patience 
 of nations, and the necessary servility of Art when patronized by 
 royalty. He wandered for hours through its innumerable halls, 
 encrusted with splendor, till the intervention of a naked ante-room 
 was a relief to the eye ; and the ruling idea in picture and statue 
 and carving was military glory. " Carriages shattered and overturn- 
 ed, animals transfixed by spear-thrusts and writhing in speechless 
 agony, men riddled by cannon-shot or pierced by musket-balls, and 
 ghastly with coming death; such are tlie spectacles which the 
 more favored and fortunate of the Gallic youth have been called 
 for generatiohs to admire and enjoy. The whole collection is, in 
 its general eflfect, delusive and mischievous, the purpose being to 
 exhibit War as always glorious, and France as uniformly triumph- 
 ant. It is by means like these that the business of shattering knee- 
 joints and multi|)lying orphans is kept in countenance." 
 
 At the Louvre, however, the traveler spent the greater part of 
 two days in rapturous contemplat'on of its wonderful collection of 
 paintings. Two days out of eight -the fact is significant. 
 
 Let no man who has spent but three days in a foreign country, 
 venture on prophecy with regard to its future. France, at the time 
 
HIS OPINION OF THE FRENCH. 363 
 
 of Horace Greeley's brief visit, went by the name of Republic, and 
 Louis Naiioleon was called President. For a sturdy republican 
 lii<e Mr. Greeley, it was but natural that one of his first inquiries 
 should be, 'Will the Republic stand?' It is amusing, now^ to read 
 in a letter of his, Avritten on the third day of his residence in Paris, 
 the most confiilent predictions of its stability, " Alike," he says, 
 "by its own strength and by its enemies' divisions, the safety of the 
 Republic is assured ;" and again, "Time is on the popular side, and 
 every hour's endurance adds strength to the Republic." And yet 
 again, "An open attack by the Autocrat would certainly consolidate 
 it; a prolongation of Louis Napoleon's i)Ower (/io longer proballe) 
 would have the same efiect." "No longer probable." The striking 
 events of liistory have seldom seemed 'probable' a year before they 
 occurred. 
 
 Other impressions made upon the mind of the traveler were 
 more correct. France, which the English press was daily repre- 
 senting as a nation inhabited equally by felons, bankrupts, paupers 
 and lunatics, he found as tranquil and prosperous as England her- 
 self, lie saw there less plate upon the sideboards of her landlords 
 and bankers, but he observed evidences on all hands of general 
 though unostentatious thrift. The French he thought intelligent, 
 vivacious, courteous, obliging, generous and humane, eager to en- 
 joy, but willing that all the world should enjoy with them ; but at 
 the same time, they are impidsive, fickle, sensual and irreverent. 
 Paris, the ' paradise of the senses,' contained tens of thousands who 
 could die fighting for liberty, but no class who could even compre- 
 hend the idea of the temperance pledge ! ! The i)oor of Paris 
 seemed to eufier less than the poor of London ; but in London there 
 were ten philanthropic enterprises for one in Paris. In Paris he 
 saw none of that abject servility in the bearing of the poor to the 
 rich which had excited his disgust and commiseration in London. 
 A hundred princes and dukes attract less attention in Paris than 
 one in London; for ' Democracy triumphed in the drawing-rooms 
 of Paris before it had erected its first barricade in the streets ;' and 
 once more the traveler " marvels at the obliquity of vision^ where- 
 by any one is enabled, standing in this metropolis, to anticipate the 
 subversion of the Republic." " And if," he adds, "passing over 
 the mob of generals and politicians-by-trade, the choice of candi- 
 
364 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 dates for the next presidential term should fall on some modest and 
 unambitious citizen, who has earned a cluiracter by quiet probity 
 and his bread by honest labor, I shall hope to see his name at the 
 head of the poll in spite of the unconstitutional overthrow of Uni- 
 versal Suffrage." Thus he thouglit that France, fickle, glory-lovic^ 
 France, would do in 1852, what he only hoped America would be 
 capable of some time before the year 1900 ; that is, ' elect something 
 else than Generals to the presidency.' 
 
 Away to Lyons on the sixteenth of June. To an impetuous trav- 
 eler like Horace Greeley, the tedious formalities of the European 
 railroads were sufllciently irritating ; but tlie "passport nuisance" 
 was disgusting almost beyond endurance. One of tlie very few 
 anecdotes whicli he found time to tell in his letters to tlie Tribune, 
 occurs in connection with his remarks upon tliis subject. "Every 
 one in Paris who lodges a stranger must see fortliwitii that he has 
 a passport in good condition, in default of which said host is liable 
 to a penalty. Now, two Americans, when api)lied to, produced 
 passports in due form, but the professions set forth therein were not 
 transparent to the landlord's apprehension. One of tiiem was duly 
 designated in his passi)ort as a ' loafer^ the other as a ' rowdy ^ and 
 they informed him, on application, that though these professions 
 were highly popular in America and extensively followed, they 
 knew no French synonyms into which they could be translated. The 
 landlord, not content with the sign manual of Daniel Webster, aflirm- 
 ing that all was right, applied to an American fi-iend for a translation 
 01 the inexplicable i)rofessions, but I am not sure that he has oven 
 yet been fully enlightened with regard to them." lie thought that 
 three days' endurance of the passport system as it exists on tlie con- 
 tinent of Europe would send any American citizen home with his 
 love of liberty and country kindled to a blaze of enthusiasm. 
 
 On the long railroad ride to Lyons, the traveler was half stifled 
 with the tobacco smoke in the cars. His companions were all 
 Frenchmen and all smokers, who " kept puff-puffing, through the 
 day ; first all of them, then three, two, and at all events one, till 
 they all got out at Dijon near nightfall; when, before I had timo 
 to congratulate myself on the atmospheric improvement, another 
 Frenchman got in, lit his cigar, and went at it. All this was in 
 direct and flagrant violation of the rules posted up in the car ; 
 
JOCRXET TO ITALY. 365 
 
 bnt when did a smoker iver care for law or decency ?" However 
 he flattened liis nose diligently against the car windows, and spied 
 what he conld of the crops, the cultnre, the houses and the people 
 of the country. He discovered that a Yankee C(juld mow twice 
 as much grass in a day as a Frenchman, bnt not get as much from 
 each acre ; that the women did more than half the workcf the 
 farms; that the agricultural implements were primitive and rude, 
 the hay-carts '• wretchedly small ;" that the fann-hou.-es were low 
 small, steep-roofed, huddled together, and not worth a hundred dol- 
 lars each ; that fruit-trees were deplorably scarce ; and that the 
 stalls and stables for the cattle were ' visible only to the eye of 
 faith.' He reached Chalons on the Saone, at nine in the evening ; 
 and Lyons per steamboat in the afternoon of the next day. Lyons, 
 the capital uf the silk-trade, furni.shed him, as might have been an- 
 ticipated, witli an excellent text for a letter on Protection, in which 
 he endeavored to prove that it is not best for mankind that one 
 hundred thousand silk-workers should be clustered on any square 
 mile or two of earth. 
 
 The traveler's next ride was across the Alps to Turin. The let- 
 ter which describes it contains, besides the usnal remarks upon 
 wheat, grass, fruit-trees and bad farming, one slight addition to our 
 stock of personal anecdotes. The diligence had stopped at Cham- 
 bery, the caj-ital of Savoy, for breakfast. 
 
 " There was enough," he writes, " and good enough to eat, wine in abun- 
 dance without charge, but tea, coffee, or chocolate, mast be ordered and paid 
 for extra. Yet I waa amible to obtain a cup of chocolate, the excuse being 
 that there w;u not time to make it. I did not understand, therefore, why I 
 was charged more than others for breakfiat : but to talk English againat 
 French or Italian la to get a mile behind in no time, ao I pocketed the change 
 offered me and came away. On the coach, however, with an Englishman near 
 me who had traveled this way before and spoke French and Italian, 1 ven- 
 tured to expose my ignorance as f jllows : 
 
 " ' Neighbor, why was I charged three franc3 for breakfast, and the rest of 
 jo'i but two and a half]' 
 
 * ' Don't know — perhaps you had tea or coffee.' 
 
 ■" No, sir — don't drink either.' 
 
 " ' Then perhaps yoa washed your face and handa.' 
 
 " ' Well, it would be just like me.' 
 
 " ' 0, then, that 'a it ! The half franc was for the basin and towel.' 
 
 " ' Ah oui, ouU So the milk in thai cocoanat waa accounted for." 
 
S0(> THKKK MONTHS IX KIKOVE. 
 
 Anoodotos aiv prooions for bu^graphioal inirpv">sos. This is a 
 little storv, but the i"oailor may intor tVom it something rospooting 
 Horsoe Grooloy's luannoi-s, habits, ami oharaotor. Tho mv>rn- 
 inp of Juno tho twontioth touiul tho diligonoo rumbling ovor 
 the boautit\il plain of l*iodnu>ut towards Turin, lloraoo CJreolov 
 ■was in Italy. Ono ot" tho tii-st observations whieh ho made in that 
 onoliantmg country was, that ho had tiover soon a region where (» 
 jVw iuh-^nl j>h>(C)t, with tnon qualitiod to use and explain them, wero 
 so muoh wanted I Kefroshing reniark ! Tho sky of Italy had been 
 overdone. At length, a traveler erossed tho Alps who had an oyo 
 for tho neoossities of the soil. 
 
 Mr. (."Jreeley spent twenty-one days in Italy, paying tlying visits 
 to Turin, Genoa, Tisa, Florence, Padua, Uv'logn.a, \'eniee, Milan, and 
 passing about a week in Rome. At tionoa, ho remarked that tho 
 kingdotn of Sardini.a, whieh contains a population of otdy tour null- 
 ions, maintains sixty thousand priests, but not five tluntsand teach- 
 ers of olen\entary ki\owledge ; and that, while the churches of Ge- 
 noa are worth four millions (»f dollars, the school-houses would not 
 bring tit'ty thousand. " Tho black-coated gentry fairly overshadv>w 
 the laud with their shovel-hats, so that corn has no I'lianco of sun- 
 shine." Pisa, too, could afford to spend a himdred thousand dol- 
 lars in fireworks to celebrate tho anniversary of its patron saint; 
 but can spare nothing tor popular education. At Florence, tho trav- 
 veler p.nssed some agreeable hours with Hiram Powers, felt that his 
 Creek Slave and Fisher Roy wero not the lot'tiest achievements of 
 that artist, detied antiipiity to surpass his Proserpine and Psycho, 
 and predicted that Powers, unlike Alexander, has realms still to 
 conquer, and will fultill his destiny. .Vt lH>U>gna the most nv>tablo 
 thing he saw was an awning sj>read over the center of tho n\ain 
 street for a distance o( half a mile, and ho thought tho idea nught 
 be worth borrowing. On ei»tering Venice his carpet-bags wero 
 searched for tobacco ; and he remarks, that when any tide-waiter 
 finds more of that noxious wood alH>ut him than the chronic ill- 
 broeding of smokers compels him to carry in his clothes, he is wel- 
 come to coutiscato all his worldly possessions. Invtore reaching 
 Venice, anv>ther diligenoeincident occurred, whicli tlie traveler nuiy 
 bo permitted himself to rolato 
 
A NAI' IN TIIK Dll.KJKKCn. '.UM 
 
 " As iiii.lnip;li( (liow iin," Iio writtiM, " F (^row \V(uirv of pc"'''"K "t •'"■ ""m" 
 endloss divrrMily of f^riiiii-ru'IilM, viimyni'ilH, rimn of IrocH, .tn., tliDiif^li llio 
 l)ri!;lit mnoti wiim now Hliiiiiiif; ; imd, Hliiittiiiff mil, tlin chill iii/^lil-nii , I dihiioHod 
 iiiysi-ir nil my nld >;irntci)iit iiiid H(ift(>Hl (;iii|ml-l)iijf for ii- drowsn, liiiviiiK ii!nf>l() 
 room III my t'omiiiiiiid if I coulil Iml. Iiiivo liroiifrlit it iiilo ii HlrMi;j;iir lino, \i\it 
 lliu ro:id was hard, llio uoiudi ii lilllo (ho iiiiuiiNiitMt I ovor linrlriiod my horioH 
 ujiMi), iiiul my uliiiiilior vvas of a distuilicil iiiid diihioiiM cliniiiildr, ii iliiii soiiho 
 of jdiysii'iil (li.Mc'oiiil'ort nhiipiiif? mid I'lplciiiii^ my incohi'idiil :iihI (illiil vi.HioiiH, 
 I'or II time I fiiiii'iiMl myself ludil down on my liiii-l( whilo muiiic mulcvoldnt, 
 wrclcli dri'Mchcd tho (loor (:iiid iiic) wilh lillliy wiilcr ; llicii I wiiH in ii riido 
 KiMilllo, nnd oiimo out third oi- fomlh IjcnI, with my clothes limlly loin ; iinon I 
 had lost, my lint, in a stran)^)! |i1iic(^, nnd I'oiild nut ln'i^in to lind it ; nnd iit last 
 my clotlios were full of nnisslio]i|n'rM and spidors, who weni l)o;^nilint; th(\ir 
 loiHiiro liy liitiiij; mid sdiij^iiif; mo. 'I'Ik; misery al limt biiciimo unliomiiblo mid 
 I awoke. Itiit wliero '( I was plainly in a li/<ht, dark ho.t Hint luiodiid moro 
 air; 1 noon reeolleclod lliat it was ii sta|^(.'-eoaeh, wherein I had heen miikiiip; 
 inj' way from I''orrara to I'ndiia. I tlirew opi^i llio door and looked out. 
 Ilor.so.s, po.stilions, nn<l (^uard woro all f^ono ; tiio moon, tlio fields, tlio road 
 wore pone : 1 \v,is in a elo.so court-yard, iiloiio with Ni;^ht and Silenco ; but 
 wlioro T A eliin<'li clock utriK^k lliroe ; hut it was only promised that wo 
 Hlioiild r<<ii('h I'adiia hy four, mid !, milking tlio usual di.seount on Huch prom- 
 isou, had set down live iis the proliahle hour of our arrival. I j^ot. out to take 
 a inoro dolihornto survey, nnd Ihn Inll firm nnd liiij.;lit hiiyonet of mi Austrian 
 Ronihicl, staiiditif; f;iiard over the cf^ress of the court-yard, wero heforo mo. 
 To talk n«rinaii was h«yon<l llio sweep of my di/./.ie.st iinihition, but an Italian 
 runner or porter instantly jircsentcd himself. I'Vom him I niado out that I 
 was in I'.'idiia of ancient and learned hmiowii (llnlinn I'lidiird), iiml that tlio 
 first train for Vonico would not start for three hoiir.s yet. I followed him into 
 n. convcnioiit (y;/V', whieli was all open and well lif^hted, wlioro I ordered a cup 
 of chocidato, and )irocoodc(l leisurely to discuss it. When I had linished, tho 
 other fjucsLs had all gone out, but (hiylif^ht was coming in, mid I bej;a,n to fool 
 moro at home. 'J'ho cafe tender was lusloop in his chair ; the porter had gono 
 ofT; tho sentinel alone kept awako on his post. Soon tho welcome face of tlio 
 coach-Kiiard, whom I had borne coiii])any from Hologna, iippeare<l ; I liiiilod 
 him, obtained my buKf^affc, hired a portor, and, havinf^ »iothiii>; more to wait 
 for, ."tarted at a littlo past four for the Ifiiilroiid station, nearly a inilo dis- 
 tant ; taking; obsorviifiona hr I wont. Arrived at the depot, I discliargoil my 
 portor. Hat down and waited for tho place to open, with ample leisure for re- 
 flection. At si.v o'clock r felt onco moro tho wolcomo motion of a railroad car, 
 nnd al ci;;lil was in Venice." 
 
 At Voiiice, iiiiiiil n tlioiisand nigriH ofdocny, lio snw oiu>, nnd only 
 opc, iiidic'itidii (if pnigft'SH. Tt was a gdiidola with tlic word Om- 
 
368 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 KIBV3 written upon it; and the oinnibns, he rein.arks, tyiiifios Asso- 
 ciation, the siiii|ile but grandly fruitful idea -svhich is destined to 
 renovate tlie world of industry and production, substituting abun- 
 dance and comfort for penury and misery. For Man, he thought, 
 tills quickening word is yet seasonable; for Venice, it is too late. 
 
 Rome our hurrying traveler reached through much tribulation 
 Even ?iis patience gave way when the petty and numberless ex- 
 actions of passjiort otficials, hotel runners, postilions, and porters, 
 had wrung the la-t copper from his pocket. After he and his fel- 
 low-passengers liad paid every conceivable demand, when they 
 supposed tin'3' had bought off every enemy, and had nothing to do 
 but drive quietly into the city, "our postilion," says the indignant 
 traveler, "came down u|)on us for more money for taking us to a 
 hotel ; and as we could do no better, we agreed to gise him four 
 francs to set down four of us (all the Americans and English he 
 had) at one hotel. lie drove by the Diligence Office, however, and 
 there three or four rough customers jumped unbidden on the ve- 
 hicle, and, when we reached our hotel, made themselves busy with 
 our little luggage, which we would have thanked them to let alone. 
 Having obtained it, we settled with the postilion, who grumbled 
 and scolded, though we ])aid him more than his four francs. Then 
 came the leader of our volunteer aids, to be paid for taking down 
 the luggage. I had not a penny of change left, but others of our 
 company scraped their pockets of a handful of coi)pers, which the 
 '•faccMni' rejected with scorn, throwing them after us up stairs (I 
 hope they did not ])ick them up afterwards), and I heard their im- 
 precations until I had reached my room, but a blessed ignorance of 
 Italian shielded me from any insult in the premises. Soon my two 
 light carpet-bags, which I was not allowed to carry, came up with 
 a fresh demand for porterage. ' Don't you belong to tlie hotel?' 
 'Yes.' 'Then vanisii instantly!' I shut the door in his face, 
 and let him growl to his heart's content; and thus closed my first 
 day in the more especial dominions of His Holiness Pius IX." 
 
 But he was in Rome, and Rome impressed him deeply ; for, in 
 the nature of Horace Greeley, the poetical element exists as un- 
 deniably as the ])ractical. He has an eye for a picture and a pros- 
 pect, as well as for a potato-field and a sub-soil plough. 
 
 The greater part of his week in Rome fvas spent in the galleries 
 
SCENE IN THE COLISEUM. 
 
 3G9 
 
 of art; ami while feasting his eyes willi tlicir inanif(,lcl glories, 
 practical suggestions for the diffusion of all that \Yealth of bcanty 
 occur to his mind. It is well", ho thought, that there should be 
 somewhere in the world an Emporium of the Fine Arts; but not 
 well that tlie heart should absorb all the blood and leave the limbs 
 destitute; and, " if Pwome would but consider herself under a mora 
 responsibility to impart as well as receive, and would liberally dis- 
 pose of so many of her master-pieces as would not at all impover- 
 ish her, buying in return such as could be spared her from abroad, 
 and would thus enrich her collections by diversifying them, she 
 would render the cause of Art a signal service, and earn the grati- 
 tude of mankind, without the least prejudice to her own permanent 
 well-being." 
 
 Among the Sights of Rome, the Coliseum seems to have made 
 the most lasting impression upon the mind of the traveler. Ho was 
 fortunate in the hour of his visit. As he slowly made the circuit 
 of the gigantic ruin, a body of French cavalry were exercising their 
 horses along the eastern side, while in a neighboring grove the 
 rattle of the kettle-drum revealed the presence of infantry. At 
 length the horsemen rode slowly away, and the attention of the 
 visitors was attracted to some groups of Italians in the interior, who 
 were slowly marching and chanting. 
 
 " AVe entered," says Mr. Greeley, " and were witnesses of a strange, im- 
 pressive ceremony. It is among the traditions of Rome that a great number 
 of the early Chri.stiiins were compelled by their heathen persecutors to fight 
 and die here as gladiators, ns a punishment for their contumacious, treasonable 
 resistance to the ' lower law' then in the ascendant, which the high priests and 
 circuit judges of that day were wont in their sermons and charges to deraon- 
 Btrate that every one was bound as a law-abiding citizen to obey, no matter 
 what might be his private, personal convictions with regard to it. Since the 
 Coliseum has been cleared of rubbish, fourteen little oratories or places of 
 prayer have been cheaply constructed around its inner circumference, and 
 hero at certain sesisons prayers are offered for the eternal bliss of the martyr- 
 ed Christians of the Coliseum. These prayers were being offered on this oc- 
 casion. Twenty or thirty men (priests or monks I inferred), partly bare- 
 headed, but as many with their heads completely covered by hooded cloaks, 
 which left only two small holes for the eyes, accompanied by a largo number 
 of women, marched slowly and sadly to one oratory, chanting a prayer by the 
 way, setting up their lighted tapers by its semblance of an altar, kneeling and 
 
 16* 
 
870 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 praying for some minute?, then rising and proceeding to the next oratory, and 
 BO on until they had repeated the service before every one. They all seemed 
 to be of the poorer class, and I presume the ceremony is often repeated or the 
 participators would have been much more numerous. The praying was fer- 
 vent and I trust excellent, — as the music decidedly was not ; but the whole 
 Bcene, with the setting sun shining redly through the shattered arches and 
 upon the ruined wall, with a few French soldiers standing heedlessly by, 
 was strangely picturesque, and to me affecting. I came away before it con- 
 cluded, to avoid the damp night-air; but many checkered years and scenes 
 of stirring interest must intervene to efface from my memory that sun-set and 
 those strange prayers in the Coliseum." 
 
 St. Peter's, he styles the Niagara of edifices; and, like Niagara, 
 the first view of it is disappointing. In the Sistine chapel, he ob- 
 served a picture of the Deatli of Admiral Ooligay at the Massacre of 
 St. Bartholomew, and if the placing of that picture there was not 
 intended to express approbation of the Massacre, he wanted to know 
 what it was intended to express. 
 
 The tenth of July was the traveler's last day in Italy. A swift 
 journey through Switzerland, Germany, Belgium, and North East- 
 ern France brought him once more to England. In Switzerland, 
 he saw everywhere the signs of frugal thrift and homely content. 
 He was assailed by no beggar, cheated by no official ; though, as he 
 truly remarks, he was ' very palpally a stranger.' A more ' upright, 
 kindly, truly religious people ' than the Catholic Swiss, he had never 
 seen ; and he thought their superiority to the Italians attributable 
 to their republican institutions ! ! He liked the Germans. Their 
 good humor, their kind-heartedness, their deference to each other's 
 wishes, their quiet, unostentatious manner, their self-respect, won 
 his particular regard. In the main cabins of German steamboats, 
 he was gratified to see " well-dressed young ladies take out their 
 home-prepared dinner and eat it at their own good time without 
 seeking the company and countenance of others, or troubling them- 
 selves to see who was observing. A Lowell factory girl would con- 
 sider this entirely out of character, and a New York milliner would 
 be shocked at the idea of it." 
 
 Nowhere, he hero remarks, had he found Aristocracy a chronic 
 disease, except in England. 
 
 "Your Paris boot- black will make you a low bow in acknowl- 
 edgment of a franc, but he has not a trace of the abjectness of a 
 
TO ENGLAND AGAIN. 371 
 
 London -waiter, and would evidently decline the honor of being 
 kicked by a Duke. In Italy, there is little manhood but no class- 
 worship ; her millions of beggars will not abase themselves one 
 whit lower before a Prince than before any one else from whom 
 tliey hope to worm a copper. The Swiss are freemen, and wear the 
 fact unconsciously but palpably on their brows and beaming from 
 their eyes. The Germans submit passively to arbitrary power 
 which they see not how successfully to resist, but tliey render to 
 rank or dignity no more homage than is necessary — their souls are 
 still free, and their manners evince a simplicity and frankness which 
 might shame, or at least instruct America." 
 
 On the twenty-first of July, Horace Greeley was again in Lon- 
 don. One incident of his journey from the court to the metropolis 
 was sufficiently ludicrous. There were three Frenchmen and two 
 French women in the car, going up to see the Exhibition.^ '•'•London 
 Stoxit^ displayed in tall letters across the front of a tavern, attract- 
 ed the attention of the party. ' Stoot ? Stool .?' queried one of 
 them ; but the rest were as much in the dark as he, and the Amer- 
 ican was as deficient in French as they in English. The befogged 
 one pulled out his dictionary and read over and over all tlie French 
 synonyms of ' Stout,' but this only increased his perplexity. 'Stout' 
 signified 'robust,' 'hearty,' 'vigorous,' 'resolute,' &c., but wliat 
 then could '■London Stout 'be? He closed his book at length in 
 despair and resumed his observations." 
 
 The remaining sixteen days of Mr. Greeley's three months in Eu- 
 rope were busy ones indeed. The great Peace Convention was in 
 session in London ; but, as he was not a delegate, he took no part 
 in its proceedings. If he had been a delegate, he tells us, that he 
 should have offered a resolution wiiich would have affirmed^ not 
 denied, the right of a nation, wantonly invaded by a foreign army 
 or intolerably oppressed by its own rulers, to resist force by force; 
 a proi)osition which he thought might perhaps have marred the 
 'harmony and happiness' of the Convention. 
 
 A few days after his return to London, ho had the very great 
 gratification of witnessing the triumph of M'Oormick's Reaping Ma- 
 chine, which, as it stood in the Crystal Palace, had excited general 
 derision, and been styled 'a cross between an Astley chariot, a fly- 
 ing machine, and a tread-mill.' It came into the field, therefore, to 
 
372 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 confront a tribunal prepared for its condemnation. "Before it 
 stood Jolin Bull, burly, dogged, and determined not to be lunnbug- 
 ged — liis judgment made up and liis sentence ready to be recorded. 
 Notliing disconcerted, the brown, rough, homespun Yankee in 
 charge jumped on the box, starting tlie team at a smart walk, set- 
 ting the blades of the macliine in lively operation, and commenced 
 raking off the grain in slieaf-piles ready for binding, — cutting a 
 breadth of nine or ten feet cleanly and carefully as fast as a span 
 of horses could comfortably step. There was a moment, and but a 
 moment of suspense; liuman prejudice could liold out no longer; 
 and burst after burst of involuntary cheers from the whole crowd 
 proclaimed the triumph of the Yankee 'treadmill.'" 
 
 A rajiid tour through the north of England, Scotland, and Ire- 
 land absorbed the last week of Mr. Greeley's stay in Europe. The 
 grand old town of Edinburgh ' surpassed his expectations,' and he 
 was amused at the passion of the Edinburghers for erecting public 
 monuments to eminent men. Glasgow looked to him more like an 
 American city than any other he had seen in Europe; it was half 
 Pittsburgh, half Philadelphia. Ireland seemed more desolate, more 
 wretchetl, even in its best parts, than he had expected to find it. 
 As an additional proof of his instinctive sense of means and ends, 
 take this suggestion for Ireland's deliverance from the pajl of igno- 
 rance that overspreads it : — " Let the Catholic Bishops unite in an 
 earnest and potential call for teachers, and they can summon thou- 
 sands and tens of thousands of capable and qualified persons from 
 convents, from seminaries, from cloisters, from drawing-rooms, even 
 from foreign lands if need be, to devote their time and efforts to the 
 work without earthly recompense or any stipulation save for a baro 
 subsistence, wliich the less needy Catholics, or even the more liberal 
 Protestants, in every parish, would gladly proffer them." 
 
 Perfectly practicable — perfectly impossible! The following is the 
 only incident of his Irish tour that space can be found for here : — 
 " Walking with a friend through one of the back streets of Galway 
 beside the outlet of the Lakes, I came where a girl of ten years old 
 was breaking up hard brook pebbles into suitable fragments to mend 
 roads with. We halted, and M. asked her how much she received 
 for that labor. She answered, ' Sixpence a car-load.' ' IIow long 
 will it take you to break a car-load V ^ About a fortnight.'' " 
 
HIS OPINION OF THE ENGLISH. 373 
 
 He concluded his brief sketcli of tliis country with the words, 
 "Alas! unhappy Ireland." Yet, on a cuhiier and fuller survey of 
 Ireland's case, and after an enumeration of the various measures for 
 her relief and regeneration which were slowly but surely operating, 
 he exclaims, " There shall yet be an Ireland to wliich her sons in 
 distant lands may turn their eyes with a pride unmingled with sad- 
 ness; but who can say how soon!" 
 
 Mr, Greeley, thougli he did not 'wholly like those grave and 
 stately Englisli,' appreciated highly and commends frankly their 
 many good qualities. He praised their industry, their method, their 
 economy, tlifir sense of the jiractical ; sparing not, however, their 
 conceit and arrogance. An. English duciiess, he remarks, does not 
 hesitate to say, ' I cannot afford' a [troposed outlay — an avowal rare- 
 ly and reluctantly made by an American, even in moderat^j circum- 
 stances. The English he thought a most ^in-ideal people, even in 
 their ' obstreperous loyalty' ; and when the portly and well-to-do 
 Briton exclaims, ' God save tlie Queen,' with intense enthu.-iasm, he 
 means, ' God save my estates, my rents, my shares, my consols, my 
 expectations.' He liked the amiable women of England, so excel- 
 lent at the fireside, so tame in the drawing-room ; but he doubted 
 whether they could so much as comjirehend the ' ideas which under- 
 lie the woman's-riglits movement.' The English have a sharp eye 
 to business, he thought; particularly the Free Traders. Our cham- 
 pion of Protection on this subject remarks : — "The French widow 
 who appended to the high-wrought eulogium engraved on her hus- 
 band's tombstone, that ' His disconsolate widow still keeps tlie shop 
 No. 16 Rue St. Denis,' had not a keener eye to business than these 
 apostles of the Economic faith. No consideriitiou of time or place 
 is regarded ; in festive meetings, peace conventions, or gatherings 
 of any kind, where men of various lands and views are notoriously 
 congregated, and where no reply could be made without disturbing 
 the harmony and distracting the attention of the assemblage, the 
 disciples of Cobden are sure to interlard their harangues with ad- 
 vice to foreigners substantially thus — ' N. B. Protection is a great 
 humbug and a great waste. Better abolish your taritfs, stop your 
 fixctories, and buy at our shops. We 're the boys to give you 
 thirteen pence for every shilling.' I cannot say how this affected 
 others, but to me it seemed hardly more ill-mannered than impolitic." 
 
874 THREE MONTHS IN EUROPE. 
 
 Yet, the better qualities of the Britisli decidedly preponderate ; 
 and he adds, that the quiet comfort and lieartfelt warmth of ar 
 English fireside must be felt to be appreciated. 
 
 On Wednesday, the sixth of August, Horace Greeley was once 
 more on board the steamship Baltic, homeward bound. 
 
 "I rejoice," he wote on the morning of his departure, " I rejoice to feel 
 that every hour, henceforth, must lessen the distance which divides me from 
 my country, whose advantages and blessings this four months' absence has 
 taught me to appr^'-iate more dearly and to prize more deeply than before. 
 With a glow of unvonted rapture I see our stately vessel's prow turned toward 
 the setting sun, ar** strive to realize that only some ten days separate me from 
 those I know ancJ 'ove best on earth. Hark ! the last gun announces that the 
 mail-boat has lef*^ us, and that we are fairly afloat on our ocean journey ; the 
 shores of Europ* recede from our vision ; the watery waste is all around us ; 
 and now, with G^od above and Death below, our gallant bark and her clustered 
 company tocpther brave the dangers of the mighty deep. May Infinite Mercy 
 watch over our onward path and bring us safely to our several homes ; for to 
 die away from home and kindred seems one of the saddest calamities that 
 could bftfa.U me. This mortal tenement would rest uneasily in an ocean 
 shroud ; this spirit reluctantly resign that tenement to the chill and pitiless 
 brine t these eyes close regretfully on the stranger skies and bleak inhospital- 
 ity of the sullen and stormy main. No ! let me see once more the scenes so 
 well remembered and bioved ; let me grasp, if but once again, the hand of 
 Friendship, and hear the thrilling accents of proved Affection, and when sooner 
 or later the hour of mortal agony shall come, let my last gaze be fixed on eyes 
 that will not forget me when I am gone, and let my ashes repose in that con- 
 genial soil which, however I may there be esteemed or hated, "is still ' My own 
 green land forever !' " 
 
 Neptune was more gracious to the voyager on his homeward than 
 he had been on hrs outward passage. The skies were clearer, the 
 winds more favorable and gentler. A few days, not intolerably dis- 
 agreeable, landed him on the shores of Manhattan. The ship reached 
 the wharf about six o'clock in the morning, cheating the expectant 
 morning papers of their foreign news, which the editor of the Tri- 
 bune had already ' made up' for publication on board the steamer, 
 However, he had no sooner got on shore than he rushed away tc 
 the office, bent on getting out an ' e.xtra' in advance of all contempo- 
 raries. The compositors were all abs-^nt, of course ; but boys were 
 forthwith dispatched to summon them fr»Mn bed and bi'eakfast. Mean- 
 
RECENTLY. 375 
 
 /vliilo, the impetuous Editor-in-OIiief proceeded icith ?iis oicn hands 
 to set the matter in type, and continued to assist till tlie form was 
 ready to be lowered away to the press-room in the basement. In 
 an hour or two the streets resounded with tlie cr}-, "Extra Try- 
 bune; 'yival of the BaU/c." Then^ but not till then, Horace Gree- 
 ley might have been seen in a corner of an omnibus, going slowly 
 ip town, towards liis residence in "NTiiicteentli street. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 RECENTLY. 
 
 Deliverance from Party — A Private Platfurm — Last Interview with Henry Clay — Iloraco 
 Greeley a Parmer — He irris^atrs and drains — His Advice to a Youiif; Man — The 
 Daily Times — A costly Mistake — The Isms of the Tribune — Tlie Tribune gets 
 Glory — The Tribune in Parliament — Proposed Nomination lor Governor — His I^ife 
 written — A Judge's Daughter for Sale. 
 
 During the first eight or nine volumes of the Tribune, the history 
 of that newspaper and the life of Horace Greeley were one and the 
 same thing. But the time has passed, and passed forever, when a 
 New York morning paper can be the vehicle of a single mind. 
 Since the year 1850, when the Tribune came upon the town as a 
 double sheet nearly twice its original size, its atiairs have had a me- 
 tropolitan complexity and extensiveness, and Horace Greeley has 
 run through it only as the original stream courses its way through 
 a river swollen and expanded by many tributaries. The quatiing 
 traveler cannot tell, as ho rises from the shore refreshed, whether 
 he has been drinking Hudson, or Mohawk, or Moodna, or two of 
 them mingled, or one of the hundred rivulets that trickle into the 
 ample stream upon which fleets and ' palaces' securely ride. Some 
 wayfarers thirik they can, but they cannot; and their erroneous 
 guesses are among the amusements of the tributary corps. Occa- 
 sionally, however, the original Greeley flavor is recognizable to the 
 dullest palate. 
 
 The most important recent event in the history of the Tribune 
 
376 
 
 RECENTLY. 
 
 occurred in November, 1852, when, on tlie defe.at of General Scott 
 and the iinnihilation of the Whig party, it ceased to he a party 
 paper, and its editor ceased to he a party man. And this hlessea 
 emancipation, with its effect upon the press of the ci>iiiitry, was 
 worth that disaster. We never had great newspapers in this coun- 
 try wldle our leading papers gave allegiance to party, and never 
 could have had. A great newspaper must be above everything and 
 everybody. Its independence must be absolute, and tlien its power 
 will be as nearly so as it ought to be. 
 
 It was fit that the last triumph of party should be its greatest, and 
 that triumph was secured when it enlisted such a man as Horace 
 Greeley as the special and head champion of a man like General 
 Scott. But as s, jnirtisan^ what other choice had he? To use his 
 own language, he supported Scott and Graham, because, 
 
 " 1. They can be elected, and the others canH. 
 
 "2. They are openly and thoroughly for Protection to Home Industry, 
 while the others, (judged by their supporters,) lean to Free Trade. 
 
 "3. Scott and Graham are backed by the general support of those who hold 
 with us, that government may and should do much -positive good." 
 
 At the same time he ' spat upon the (Baltimore comi)romise, pro- 
 fugitive law) platform,' and in its place, gave one of his own. As 
 this private platform is the most condensed and characteristic state- 
 ment of Horace Greeley's political o[)inions that I have seen, it may 
 properly be printed here. 
 
 OUR PLATFORM. 
 
 " I. As to the Tarijf: — Duties on Imports — specific so far as practicable, af- 
 fording ample protection to undeveloped or peculiarly exposed branches of 
 our National Industry, and adequate revenue for the support of the govern- 
 ment and the payment of its debts. Low duties, as a general rule, on rude, 
 bulky staples, whereof the cost of transportation is of itself equivalent to a 
 heavy impost, and high duties on such fabrics, wares, <fcc., as come into de- 
 pressing competition with our own depressed infantile or endangered pursuits. 
 
 " II. As to National Works : — Liberal appropriations yearly for the improve- 
 ment of rivers and harbors, and such eminently national enterprises as the 
 Saut St. Marie canal and the Pacific railroad from the Mississippi. Cut down, 
 the expenditures for forts, ships, troops and warlike enginery of all kinds, and 
 add largely to those for works which do not ' perish in the using,' but will re 
 
A PRIVATE rLATFORM. 377 
 
 main for ages to benefit our people, strengthen the Vni:m, and cnniiibutc far 
 more to the nation;il defense than the costly machinery of war ever could. 
 
 "III. As to Foreign Poliiyy : — 'Do unto others [tiie weak and oppressed 
 as well as the powerful and mighty] as we would have them do unto us.' 
 No shutning, no evasion of duties nor shirking responsibilities, but a firm 
 front to despot.*, a prompt rebuke to every outrage on the law of Nations, and 
 a generous, active sj'rapathy with the victims of tyranny and usurpation. 
 
 " IV. As to Slavery : — No interference by Congress with its existence in any 
 slave State, but a firm and vigilant resistance to its legalization in any national 
 Territory, or the acquisition of any foreign Territory wherein slavery may ex- 
 ist. A perpetual protest against the hunting of fugitive slaves in free States 
 ns an irresistible cause of agitation, ill feeling and alienation between the 
 North and the South. A firm, earnest, inflexible testimony, in common with 
 the whole non-slavcholding Christian world, that human slavery, though le- 
 gally protected, is morally wrong, and ought to be speedily terminated. 
 
 " V. As to Stale rights: — Jlore regard for and less cant about them. 
 
 " VI. One Presidential Term, and no man a candidate for any oSieo while 
 wielding the vast patronage of the national executive. 
 
 " VII. Reform in Congress : — Payment by the session, with a rigorous de- 
 duction for each day's absence, and a reduction and straightening of mileage. 
 We would suggest $2,000 compensation for the first (or long), and $1,000 for 
 the second (or short) session ; "with ten cents per mile for traveling (by a bee- 
 line) to and from Washington." 
 
 The Tribune fought gallantly for Scott, and made no wry faces at 
 the 'brogue,' or any other of the peculiarities of the candidate's 
 stump efforts. When the sorry fight was over, the Tribune submit- 
 ted with its usual good humor, spoke jocularly of the ' late whig 
 party,' declared its independence of party organizations for the fu- 
 ture, and avowed its continued adhesion to all the principles which 
 it had hoped to promote by battling with the whigs. It would still 
 war with the aggressions of the slave power, still strive for free 
 homesteads, still denounce the fillibusters, and still argue for the 
 Maine Law. 
 
 " 'Doctor," said a querulous, suffering invalid who had paid a good deal of 
 money for physic to little apparent purpose, "you don't seem to reach the 
 Beat of my disease. Why don't you strike at the seat of my disorder'?" 
 
 " ' Well, I will," was the prompt reply, " if you insi.st on it ;" and, lifting 
 his cane, he smashed the brandy bottle on the sideboard.' " 
 
 And thus ended the long connection of the New York Tribune 
 with the whig party 
 
378 EECENTLY. 
 
 In the puminer of 1852, ITorace Greelej performed the melan- 
 choly duty of finisliing Sargent's Life of Henry Clay. He added 
 little, however, to Mr. Sargent's narrative, excei)t the proceedings 
 of Congress on the occasion of Mr. Clay's death and funeral. One 
 paragraph, descriptive of the last interview hetween the dying 
 statesman and the editor of tlie Tribune, claims insertion : 
 
 "Learning from others," says Mr. Greeley, "how ill and feeble he 
 was, I had not intended to call upon him, and remained two days 
 under the same roof without asking permission to do so. Mean- 
 time, however, lie was casually informed of my being in Wasliing- 
 ton, and sent me a request to call at his room. I did so, and enjoyed 
 a half hour's free and friendly conversation with liim, the saddest 
 and the last! His state was even worse than I feared; ho was 
 already emaciated, a prey to a severe and distressing cough, and 
 complained of spells of difficult breathing. I think no physician 
 could have judged him likely to live two months longer. Yet his 
 mind was unclouded and brilliant as ever, liis aspirations for his 
 country's welfare as ardent; and, though all personal ambition had 
 long been banished, his interest in tlie events and impulses of the 
 day was nowise diminished. He listened attentively to all I had 
 to say of tlie repulsive aspects and revolting features of the Fugi- 
 tive Slave Law and the necessary tendency of its operation to ex- 
 cite hostility and alienation on the part of our JSTorthern people, 
 unaccustomed to Slavery, and seeing it exemplified only in the 
 brutal arrest and imprisonment of some humble and inoffensive 
 negro whom they had learned to regard as a neighbor. I think I 
 may without impropriety say that Mr. Clay regretted that more 
 care had not been taken in its passage to divest this act of features 
 needlessly repulsive to Northern sentiment, though lie did not deem 
 any change in its provisions now practicable." 
 
 A strange, but not inexplicable, fondness existed in the bosom of 
 Horace Greeley for tlie aspiring chieftain of the Whig party. Very 
 masculine men, men of complete physical development, the gallant^ 
 the graceful, the daring, often enjoy the sincere liomage of souls 
 superior to their own ; because such are apt to place an extravagant 
 value upon the shining qualities wliich they do not possess. From 
 JiVebster, tUe great over-Praised, tlie false god of cold New Eng- 
 
HORACE GREELEY A FARMER, 
 
 379 
 
 land, Horace Greeley seems ever to have sliruuk witli an instinc- 
 tive aversion. 
 
 As he l«)st liis interest in party politics, his mind reverted to the 
 soil, lie yearned lor the repose and tlie calm deliglits of country 
 life. 
 
 "As for me," hi said, at the conclusion of an address before tlio 
 Indiana State Agricultural Society, delivered in October, 1853, "as 
 for me, long-tossed on the stormiest waves of doubtful conflict and 
 arduous endeavor, I have begun to feel, since the shades of forty 
 years fell ujion me, the weary, tempest-driven voyager's longing for 
 land, the wanderer's yearning for the hamlet where in cliildliood lio 
 nestled by his mother's knee, and was soothed to sleep on her 
 breast. The sober down-hill of life dispels many illusions, while it 
 develops or strengthens within us the attachment, perhaps long 
 smotliered or overlaid, for ' that dear hut, our home.' And so I, in 
 the sober afternoon of life, when its sun, if not high, is still warm, 
 have bought a few acres of land in tlie broad, still country, and, 
 bearing thitlier my liousehold treasures, have resolved to steal from 
 the City's labors and anxieties at least ono day in each week, wherein 
 to revive as a farmer the memories of my childhood's humble 
 home. And already I realize that the experiment cannot cost so 
 mucli as it is worth. Already I find in tliat day's quiet an anti- 
 dote and a solace for the feverish, festering cares of the weeks which 
 environ it. Already my brook murmurs a soothing even-song to 
 my burning, tlirobbing brain; and my trees, gently stirred by the 
 fresh breezes, whisper to my spirit sometliing of their own quiet 
 strength and patient trust in God. And thus do I faintly realize, 
 though but for a brief and flitting day, the serene joy whicli shall 
 irradiate the Farmer's vocation, when a fuller and truer Education 
 shall have refined and chastened his animal -cravings, and when 
 Science shall have endowed him with her treasures, redeeming La- 
 bor from drudgery while quadrupling its efficiency, and crowning 
 with beauty and plenty our bounteous, beneflcent Eartli." 
 
 The portion of the 'broad, still country' alluded to in tiiis elo- 
 quent i)assage, is a farm of fifty acres in Westchester county, neat 
 Newcastle, close to the Harlem railroad, thirty-four miles from the 
 city of New York. Thither the tired editor repairs every Saturday 
 morning by an early train, and there he remains directing and as- 
 
380 RECENTLY. 
 
 sistiiig in the labors of the form for that single day only, returning 
 early enougli on Suiulay to hear the flowing rhetoric of Mr. Cha- 
 pin's morning sermon. From churcli — to the office and to woik. 
 
 This farm has seen marvelous things done on it during the tlirco 
 years of Mr. Greeley's ownership. AVhat it was when he bought it 
 may be partly inferred :Voni another passage of the same address : 
 " I once went to look at a ftirm of fifty acres that I thought of buy- 
 ing for a summer home, some forty miles from the city of New 
 York. The owner had been born on it, as I believe had his father 
 before him ; but it yielded only a meager subsistence for liis family, 
 and he thought of selling and going West. I went over it with him 
 late in June, passing through a well-filled barn-yard wliich had not 
 been disturbed that season, and stepping tlience into a corn-field ot 
 five acres, with a like field of potatoes just beyond it. 'Why, 
 neighbor !' asked I, in astonishment, 'how could you leave all this 
 manure so handy to your plowed land, and plant ten acres Avithout 
 any V ' 0, I was sick a good part of the spring, and so hurried 
 that I could not find time to haul it out.' ' Wliy, suppose you had 
 planted but five acres in all, and emptied your barn-yard on those 
 five, leaving the residue untouched, don't you think you would 
 have harvested a larger crop V ' Well, perhaps I should,' was the 
 poor farmer's response. It seemed never before to have occurred to 
 liim that he could let alone a part of his laud. Had he progressed 
 80 far, he miglit have ventured thence to the conclusion that it is 
 less expensive and more profitable to raise a full crop on five acres 
 than half a crop on ten. I am sorry to say we have a good many 
 such farmers still left at the East." But, he might have added, 
 Horace Greeley is not one of them. He did not, liowever, and the 
 deficiency shall here be supplied. 
 
 The farm is at present a practical commentary upon the oft- 
 repeated recommendations of the Tribune with regard to ' high 
 farming.' It consisted, three years ago. of grove, bog, and exhaust- 
 ed upland, in nearly equal proportions. lu the grove, which is a 
 fine growth of hickory, hemlock, iron- wood and oak, a small white 
 cottage is concealed, built by Mr. Greeley, at a cost of a few hun- 
 dred dollars. The farm-buildings, far more costly and expensive, 
 are at the foot of the hill on which the house stands, and around 
 them are the gardens. Tlie marshy land, which was formerly verj 
 
HE IRRIGATES AND DRAINS. 381 
 
 wet, ^ery boggy, and quite useless, lins been drained by a system 
 of ditclies and tiles ; the bogs liave been pared oiV and burnt, the 
 lani.' plowed and planted, and made exceedingly jji-oduetive. Tlio 
 upland has been prepared for irrigation, the water l»eing supplied 
 by a brook, which tumbled down the liill through a dee[) glen. It3 
 course was arrested by a dam, and from the reservoir thus formed, 
 pipes are laid to the different fields, which can be inundated by 
 the turning of a cock. The experiment of irrigaiion, however, 
 has been suspended. Last spring the brook, swollen with rage 
 at the loss of its ancient liberty, burst through the dam, and scat- 
 tered four thousand dollars' worth of solid masonry in the space 
 of a minute and a half. Tliis year a new attempt will be made to 
 reduce it to submission, and conduct its waters in i)eai'efnl and fer- 
 tilizing rivulets down the rows of corn and potatoes. Then Mr. 
 Greeley can take down his weather-cock, and smile in the midst 
 of drought, water Iiis crops with less trouble than he can water his 
 horses, and sow turnips in July, regardless of the clouds. If a crop 
 is well put in the ground, and well cared for as it progresses, its 
 perfect success depends upon two things, water and sunshine. 
 Science has enabled the farmer partly to regulate the supply of the 
 latter, ami perfectly to regulate the su[)ply of the former. The 
 slant of tlie iiills, the reflection of walls, glass covers, trees, awn- 
 ings, and other contrivances, may be made to concentrate or ward 
 off the rays of the sun. Irrigation and drainage go far to complete 
 the farmer's independence of the wayward weather. In all the 
 operations of his little farm, Mr. Greeley takes the liveliest interest, 
 and he means to astonish his neighbors with some wonderful crops, 
 by-and-by, when he has everything in training. Indeed, he may 
 have done so already; as, in the list of prizes awarded at our last 
 Agricultural State Fair, held in New York, October, 1854, we read, 
 under the head of ' vegetables,' these two items: — "Turnips, II. 
 Greele}', Ciiappaqna, Westchester Co.. Two Dollars," (the second 
 prize); "Twelve second-best ears of White Seed Corn, II. Greeley, 
 Two Dollars." Looking down over the reclaimed swamp, all bright 
 now with waving flax, he said one day, "All else that I have done 
 may be of no avail ; but what I have done here is done ; it will last." 
 A private letter, written about this time, appeared in the country 
 papers, and still emerges occasionally. A young man wrote 'o Mr, 
 
382 RECENTLY. 
 
 Greeley, requesting his advice upon a project of going to collega 
 and studying law. Tiie reply was as follows : 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — Had you asked me whether I would advise you to desert 
 agriculture for law, I should have answered no ! very decidedly. There is 
 already a superabundance of lawyers, coupled with a great scarcity of good 
 farmers. Why carry your coals to Newcastle ? 
 
 " As to a collegiate education, my own lack of it probably disqualifies me 
 to appreciate it fully ; but I think you might better be learning to fiddle 
 And if you are without means, I would advi.«e you to hire ten acres of good 
 laud, work ten hours a day on it, for five days each week, and devote all your 
 spare hours to reading and study, especially to the study of agricultural 
 science, and thus ' owe no man anything,' while you receive a thorough 
 practical education. Such is not the advice j'ou seek ; nevertheless, I remain 
 yours, Horace Greeley." 
 
 This letter may serve as a specimen of hundreds of similar ones. 
 Probably there never lived a man to whom so many perplexed in- 
 dividuals applied for advice and aid, as to Horace Greeley. He 
 might with great advantage liave taken a hint from tlie practice of 
 Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington, who, it is said, had forms 
 of reply printed, wliich he filled up and dispatched to anxious cor- 
 respondents, witli commendable promptitude. From facts which I 
 have observed, and from otliers of which I have heard, I think it 
 safe to say, that Horace Greeley receives, on an average, five appli- 
 cations daily for advice and assistance. His advice he gives very 
 freely, but the wealth of Astor would not suffice to answer all his 
 begging letters in the way the writers of tliem desire. 
 
 In tlie fall of 1852, the Daily Times was started by Mr. H. J. 
 Raymond, an event which gave an impetus to the daily press of the 
 city. The success of the Times was signal and immediate, for three 
 reasons: 1, it was conducted with tact, industry and prudence; 
 2, it was not the Herald ; 3, it was not the Tribune. Before the 
 Times appeared, the Tribune and Herald shared the cream of the 
 daily paper business between them ; but there was a large clas.s 
 who disliked the Tribune's principles and the Herald's want of 
 principle. The majority of people take a daily paper solely to as- 
 certain what is going on in the world. They are avers.< to profli- 
 gacy and time-serving, and yet are offended at the independent 
 avowal of ideas in acvance of their own. And though H'^r.'J.o^ 
 
A COSTLY MISTAKE. 383 
 
 Greeley is not the least conservative of men, yet, from his practica 
 of giving every new thought and every new maii a heaiiiig in tlie 
 columns of liis paper, unthinking persons received tlie impret^sion 
 that lie was an adcocate of every new idea, and a cliampioa of every 
 new man. They tliought the Tribune was an unsafe, disorganizing 
 paper. " An excellent paper," said they, "and honest, but then it 's 
 so full of isms /" The Times steppc<l in witli a complaisant bow^ 
 and won over twenty thousand of the ism-Iiutiug class in a single 
 year, and yet without reducing the circulation of either of its elder 
 rivals. Where those twenty thousand subscribers came from is one 
 of the mysteries of journalism. 
 
 In the spring of 1853 the Tribune signalized its 'entrance into 
 its teens' by making a very costly mistake. It enlarged its borders 
 to such an extent that the price of subscription did not quite cover 
 the cost of the white paper upon which it was printed, thus throw- 
 ing the burden of its support upon the advertiser. And this, too, 
 in the lace of the fact that the Tribune, though the best vehicle of 
 advertising then in existence, was in least favor among the class 
 whose advertising is the most profitable. Yet it was natural. for 
 Horace Creeley to commit an error of this kind. Years ago he had 
 written, " Better a dinner of herbs with a large circulation than a 
 stalled ox with a small one." And, in announcing the enlargement, 
 he said, " We are confessedly ambitious to make the Tribune the 
 leading journal of America, and have dared and done somewhat to 
 that end." 
 
 now much he 'dared' in the case of this enlargement may be in- 
 ferred from the flict that it involved an addition of $1,044 to the 
 weekly, $54,329 to the annual, expenses of the concern. Yet he 
 ' dared' n.jt add a cent to the price of the paper, which it is thought 
 he might have done with perfect safety, because those who like the 
 Tribune like it very much,. and will have it at any price. Men have 
 been heard to talk of their Bible, their Shakspeare, and their Tri- 
 bune, as the three necessities of their spiritual life; while those 
 who dislike it, dislike it excessively, and are wont to protest that 
 they should deem their houses defiled by its presence. The Tribune, 
 however, stepped bravely out under its self-imposed load of white 
 paper. In one year the circulation of the Daily increased from 
 17,640 to 26,880, the Semi- Weekly from 3.120 to 11,400, the Week- 
 
384 RECENTLY. 
 
 ]y from 51,000 to 103,680, the California Tribune from 2,800 to 
 3,500, and the receipts of the office increased $70,900. The profits, 
 however, were inadequate to reward suitably the exertions of 
 its proprietors, and recently the paper was sliglitly reduced in 
 size. 
 
 The enlargement called public attention to the career and the 
 merits of the Tribune in a remarkable manner. Tlie press gener- 
 ally applauded its spirit, ability and courage, but deplored its isms, 
 which gave rise to a set article in the Tribune on the subject of isms. 
 This is the substance of the Tribune's opinions of isms and ismists. 
 It is worth considering: 
 
 "A very natur;il division of mankind is that which contemplates them in 
 two classes— thiise who think for themselves, and those who have their think- 
 ing done by others, dead or living. AVith the former class, the paramount 
 consideration is — 'What is right 7^ With the latter, the first inquiry is — 
 ' What do the majority, or the great, or the pious, or the fashionable think 
 about it 1 How (lid our fathers regard it 1 What will Mrs. Grundy say V 
 ******** 
 
 " And truly, if the life were not more than meat — if its ohief ends were 
 wealth, station and luxury — then the smooth and plausible gentlemen who as- 
 sent to whatever is popular vrithout inquiring or caring whether it is essential- 
 ly true or false, are the Solomons of their generation. 
 
 " Yet in a world so full as this is of wrong and suffering, of oppressioi, and 
 degradation, there must be radical causes for so many and so vast practical 
 evils. It cannot be that the ideas, beliefs, institutions, usages, prejudices, 
 whereof such gigantic miseries are born — wherewith at least they co-e.\ist — 
 transcend criticism and rightfully refuse scrutiny. It cannot be that the 
 springs are pure whence flow such turbid and poisonous currents. 
 
 " Now the Reformer — the man who thinks for himself and acts as his own 
 judgment and conscience dictate— is very likely to form erroneous opinions. 
 * * * But Time will confirm and establish his good works and gently 
 amend his mistakes. The detected error dies; the misconceived and rejected 
 truth is but temporarily obscured and soon vindicates its claim to general ac- 
 ceptance and regiird. 
 
 " ' The world does move,' and its motive power, under God, is the fearless 
 thought and speech of those who dare be in advance of their time — who are 
 sneered at and shunned through their days of struggle and of trial as luna- 
 tics, dreamers, impracticables and visionaries — men of crotchets, of vagaries, 
 or of ' isms.' These are the masts and sails of the ship, to which Conser- 
 vatism answers as ballast. The ballast is important — at times indispensable 
 —but it would be of no account if the ship were not bound to go ahead." 
 
THE TRIBUNE IN PARLIAMENT. 385 
 
 Many papers, however, gave the Tril)une its full due of apprecia- 
 tion and praise. Two notices whicli appeared at tlie time are worth 
 copying, at least in part. The Newark Mercury gave it tliis un- 
 equaled and deserved conitnendation :— " We ncrer knew a man of 
 illiberal sentiments, one unjust to his icorhnen, and groveling in his 
 aspirations^ who liked the Tribune ; and it is rare to find one witli lib- 
 eral views who docs not admit its claims upon the public regard." 
 
 The St. Joseph Valley Register, a paper published at South Bend, 
 Indiana, held the following language : 
 
 " The influence of the Tribune upon public opinion is fjrcater even than its 
 conductors claim for it. Its Ism.«, with scarce an excnjjtion, though the people 
 may reject them at first, yet ripen into strength insensibly. A few years since 
 the Tribune commenced the advocacy of the principle of Free Lands for the 
 Landless. The first bill upon that subject, presented by Mr. Greeley to Con- 
 gress, was hooted out of that body. But who doubts what the result would be, 
 if the people of the whole nation had the right to vote upf^n the question to- 
 day ? It struck the first blow in earnest at the corruptions of the Mileage sys- 
 tem, and in return, Congressmen of all parties heaped opprobrium upon it, and 
 calumny upon its Editor. A corrupt Congress may postpone its Reform, but 
 is there any doubt of what nine-tenths of the whole people would accomplish 
 on this subject if direct legislation were in their hands 1 It has inveighed in 
 severe language against the flimsy penalties which the American legislatures 
 have imposed for offenses upon female virtue. And how many States, our own 
 among the number, have tightened up their legislation upon that subject 
 within the last half-dozen years. The blows that it directs against Intemper- 
 ance have more power than the combined attacks of half the distinctive Tem- 
 perance Journals in the land. It has contended for some plan by which the 
 people should choose their Presidents rather than National Conventions ; and 
 he must be a careless observer of the progress of events who does not see that 
 the Election of 1856 is more likely to be won by a Western Statesman, pledged 
 solely to the Pacific Railroad and Honest Government, than by any political 
 nominee! And, to conclude, the numerous Industrial Associations of Workers 
 to manufacture Iron, Boots and Shoes, Rats, Ac, on their own account,. with 
 the .loint Stock Family Blocks of Buildings, so popular now in New York, 
 Model Wash-houses, Ac, Ac, seem like a faint recognition at least of the main 
 principles of Fourierism (whose details we like as little as any one), Op- 
 portunity for Work for all, and Economy in the E.xpcnses and Labor of the 
 Family." 
 
 From across the Atlantic, also, came compliments for tlie Tri- 
 bune In one of the debates in the House of Commons upon the 
 
 17 
 
386 RECENTLY. 
 
 aboiitiou of the advertisement duty, Mr. Briglit used a copy of ihc 
 Tribune, as Burlce once did a Frencli Republican dagger, for the 
 purposes of liis argument. Mr. Briglit said : 
 
 " He had a newspaper there (the New York Tribune), which he was bound 
 to say, was as good as any published in England this week. [The lion. Mem- 
 ber here opened out a copy of the New York Tribune, and exhibited it to the 
 House.] It was printed with a finer type than any London daily paper. It 
 was exceedingly good as a journal, quite sulBcient for all the purposes of a 
 newspaper. [Spreading it out before the House, the honorable gentleman de- 
 tailed its contents, commencing with very numerous adverti.?ements.] It con- 
 tained various articles, amongst others, one against public dinners, in which he 
 thought honorable members would fully agree — one criticising our Chancellor 
 of the Exchequer's budget, in part justly — and one upon the Manchester 
 school ; but he must say, as far as the Manchester school went, it did not do 
 them justice at all. [Laughter.] He ventured to say that there was not a 
 better paper than this in London. Moreover, it especially wrote in favor of 
 Temperance and Anti-Slavery, and though honorable members were not all 
 members of the Temperance Society perhaps, they yet, he was sure, all ad- 
 mitted the advantages of Temperance, while not a voice could be lifted there 
 in favor of Slavery. Here, then, was a newspaper advocating great princi- 
 ples, and conducted in all respects with the greatest propriety — a newspaper 
 in which he found not a syllable that he might not put on his table and allow 
 his wife and daughter to read with satisfaction. And this was placed on the 
 table every morning for id. [Hear, hear.] What he wanted, then, to ask the 
 Government, was this — How comes it, and for what good end, and by what 
 contrivance of fiscal oppression — for it can be nothing else — was it, that while 
 the workman of New York could have such a paper on his breakfast table 
 every morning for Id., the workman of London must go without or pay five- 
 pence for the accommodation 7 [Hear, hear.] How was it possible that the 
 latter could keep up with his transatlantic competitor in the race, if one had 
 daily intelligence of everything that was stirring in the world, while the other 
 was kept completely ia ignorance 1 [Hear, hear.] Were they not running a 
 race, in the face of the world, with the people of America? Were not the 
 Collins and Cunard lines calculating their voyages to within sixteen minutes 
 of time 1 And if, while such a race was going on, the one artisan paid five- 
 pence for the daily intelligence which the other obtained for a penny, how 
 was it possible that the former could keep his place in the international rival- 
 ry 1 [Hear, hear]" 
 
 This visible, tangible, and unanswerable argument had its effect. 
 The advertisement duty has been abolished, and now only the stamji 
 duty intervenes between tie English workingnian and his })enny 
 
AN EDITORIAL liEPAUTEE. 387 
 
 paper — Uie future Tribune of the Etiglisli people, which is to ex- 
 l^ouiul thoir duties and defend their rights. 
 
 In the snininer of ]854, Mr. Greeley was frequently spoken of in 
 the i)!ipers in connection with the office of Governor of the State of 
 New York. A very little of the usual maneuvering on his part 
 would have secured his nominati n, and if he had been noinii'.ated, 
 he would have been elected by a majority that would have surprised 
 politicians by trade. 
 
 In 1854, his life was written by a young and unknown scriblile? 
 for the press, wlio Iiad observed his career with much interest, and 
 who knew enough of tlie story of his life to he aware, that, if sim- 
 ply told, that story wt)uld be read with i)loasure and do good. 
 This volume is the result of his labors. 
 
 Here, this chapter had ended, and it was about to be consigned 
 to the hands of the printer. But an event transpires which, it is 
 urgently suggested, ought to have notice. It is nothing more than 
 a new and peculiarly characteristic editorial repartee, or ratlier, a 
 public reply by Mr. Greeley to a private letter. x\nd tliough the 
 force of tlie reply was greatly, and quite unnecessarily, diminished 
 by the publication of the corresi)ondeut's name and address, con- 
 trary to his request, yet tlie correspondence seems too interesting 
 to be omitted : 
 
 THE LETTER. 
 
 " County, Miss., Sept. 1854. 
 
 'Hon. Horace Greeley, New York City : 
 
 " My object in addressing you these linos is this : I own a negro girl named 
 Catharine, a bright mulatto, aged between twenty-eight and thirty years, 
 who is intelligent and beautiful. The girl wishes to obtain her freedom, and 
 reside in either Ohio or Now Yorij State ; and, to gratify her desire, I am 
 willing to lake the sum of $1,000, which the friends of liberty will no doubt 
 make up. Catharine, as she tells me, was born near Savannah, Ga., and was 
 a daughter of a Judge Hopkins, and, at the age of seven years, accompanied 
 her young mistress (who was a legitimate daughter of the Judge's) on a visit 
 to New Orleans, where she (the legitimate) died. Catharine was then seized 
 and sold by the Sheriff of Now Orleans, under attachment, to pay the debts 
 contracted in the city by her young mistress, and was purchased by a Dutch- 
 man named Siiinoski. Shinoski, being pleased with the young girl's looks, 
 placed her in a quadroon school, and gave her a good education. The girl can 
 
388 
 
 RECENTLY. 
 
 read and write as well or better than myself, and speaks the Dutch and 
 French languages almost to perfection. When the girl attained the age or 
 eighteen, Shinoski died, and she was again sold, and fell into a trader's hands, 
 by the name of John Valentine, a native of your State. Valentine brought 
 
 her up to , where I purchased her in 1844, for the sura of $1,150. 
 
 Catharine is considered the best seamstress and cook in this county, and I 
 could to-morrow sell her for $1,600, but I prefer letting her go for 81,000, so 
 that she may obtain her freedom. She has had opportunities to get to a free 
 State, and obtain her freedom ; but she says that she will never run away to 
 do it. Her father, she says, promised to free h«r, and so did Shinoski. If I was 
 able, I would free her without any compensation, but losing S15,000 on tho 
 last presidential election has taken very near my all. 
 
 "Mr. Geo. D. Prentice, editor of the Louisville (Ky.) Journal, knows mo 
 very well by character, to whom (if you wish to make any inquiries regard- 
 ing this matter) you are at liberty to refer. 
 
 " If you should make any publiiiation in your paper in relation to this 
 matter, you will please not mention my name in connection with it, nor the 
 place whence this letter was written. Catharine is honest ; and, for the teG 
 years that I have owned her, I never struck her a lick, about her work or 
 anything else. 
 
 " If it was not that I intend to emigrate to California, money could not 
 buy her. 
 
 " I have given you a complete and accurate statement concerning this girl, 
 and am willing that she shall be examined here, or in Louisville, Ky., before 
 the bargain is closed. 
 
 " Very respectfully. 
 
 [Name in full.] 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 '* Mr. , I have carried your letter of the 28th ult. in my hat for 
 
 several days, awaiting an opportunity to answer it I now seize the first op- 
 portune moment, and, as j'ours is one of a class with which I am frequently 
 favored, I will send you my reply through the Tribune, wishing it regarded 
 as a general answer to all such applications. 
 
 "Let me begin by franklj' stating that I am not engaged in the slave 
 trade, and do not now contemplate embarking in that business ; but no man 
 can say confidentl3' what he may or may not become ; and, if I ever should 
 engage in the traffic you suggest, it will be but fair to remember you as 
 among my prompters to undertake it. Yet even then I must decline any 
 such examination as you proffer of the property you wish to dispose of Your 
 biography is so full and precise, so frank and straight-forward, that I prefer 
 to rest satisfied with your assurance in the premises. 
 
 " You will see that I have disregarded your request that your name and 
 residence should be suppressed by me. That request seems to me inspired by 
 
A judge's daughter for sale. 389 
 
 a modesty and self- sacrifice unsuited to the Ago of Brass we live iu. Are 
 you not seeking to do a humane and generous act? Are you not proposing 
 10 tax yourself 8600 in order to raise an intelligent, capable, deserving 
 woman from slavery to freedom ? Are you not proposing to do this in a 
 manner perfectly lawful and unobjectionable, involving no surrender or com- 
 promise of ' Southern Rights' 1 My dear sir! such virtue must not be allow- 
 ed to 'blush unseen.' Our age needs the inspiration of heroic examples, and 
 those who would ' do good by stealth, and blush to find it Fame.' must — by gentle 
 violence, if need be — stand revealed to an amazed, admiring world. True, it 
 might (and might not) have been still more astounding but for your unlucky 
 gambling on the late presidential election, wherein it is hard to tell whether 
 you who lost your money or those who won their president were most unfortun- 
 ate. I afiFectionately advise you both never to do so again. 
 
 " And now as to this daughter of the late Judge Hopkins of Savannah, 
 Georgia, whom you propose to sell me : 
 
 " I cannot now remember that I have ever heard Slavery justified on any 
 ground which did not assert or imply that it is the best condition for the negro. 
 The blacks, we are daily told, cannot take care of themselves, but sink into 
 idleness, debauchery, squalid poverty and utter brutality, the moment the 
 master's sustaining rule and care are withdrawn. If this is true, how dare 
 you turn this poor dependent, for whose well-being you are responsible, over 
 to me, who neither would nor could exert a master's control over her 1 If this 
 slave ought not to be set at liberty, why do you ask me to bribe you with 
 $1,000 to do her that wrong"? If she ought to be, why should I pay you 
 $1,000 for doing your duty in the premises? You hold a peculiar and respon- 
 sible relation to her, through your own voluntary act, but / am only related 
 to her through Adam, the same as to every Esquimaux, Patagonian, or New- 
 Zealander. vVhatever maybe your duty in the premises, why should I be 
 called on to help you discharge it ? 
 
 " Full as your account of this girl is, you say nothing of her children, 
 though such she undoubtedly has, whether they be also those of her several 
 masters, as she was, or their fathers were her fellow-slaves. If she is liber- 
 ated and comes North, what is to become of them ? How is she to be recon- 
 ciled to leaving them in slavery ? How can we bo assured that the mastere 
 who own or to whom you will sell them before leaving for California, will 
 prove as humane and liberal as you are ? 
 
 " You inform me that ' the friends of Liberty ' in New York or hereabout 
 'will no doubt make up' the $1,000 you demand, in order to give this daugh- 
 ter of a Georgia Judge her freedom. I think and trust you misapprehend 
 them. For though they have, to my certain knowledge, under the impulse of 
 special appeals to their sympathies, and in view of peculiar dangers or hard- 
 ships, paid a great deal more money than they could comfortably spare (few 
 of them being ri/^h) to buy individual slaves out of bondage, yet their judg- 
 
390 RECENTLY. 
 
 ment has never approved such payment of tribute to man-thieves, ani every 
 day's earmest consideration causes it to be regarded with less and less favor. 
 For it is not the snatching of here and there a person from Slavery, at the 
 possible rate of one for every thousand increase of our slave population, that 
 they desire, but the overthrow and extermination oi the slave-holding system; 
 and this end, they realize, is rather hindered than helped by their buying 
 here and there a slave into freedom. If by so buying ten thousand a year, 
 at a cost of Ten Millions of Dollars, they should confirm you and other slave- 
 holders in the misconception that Slavery is regarded without abhorrence by 
 intelligent Christian freemen at the North, they would be doing great harm 
 to their cause and injury to their fellow-Christians in bondage. You may 
 have hoard, perhaps, of the sentiment proclaimed by Decatur to the slave- 
 holders of the Barbary Coast — ' Millions for defense — not a cent for tribute !' 
 — and perhaps also of its counterpart in the Scotch ballad — 
 
 Ins'ead of broad pieces, we '11 pay them broadswords ;' — 
 
 but ' the friendt> of Liberty ' in this quarter will fight her battle neither with 
 lead nor steel — much less with gold. Their trust is in the might of Opinion — 
 in the resistless power of Truth where Discussion is untrammelod and Com- 
 mercial Intercourse constant — in the growing Humanity of our age — in the 
 deepening sense of Common Brotherhood — in the swelling hiss of Christen- 
 dom and the just benignity of God. In the earnest faith that these must soon 
 eradicate a wrong so gigantic and so palpable as Christian Slavery, they se- 
 renely await the auspicious hour which must surely come. 
 
 " Requesting you, Mr. , not to suppress my name in case you see fit 
 
 to reply to this, and to be assured that I write no letter that I am ashamed 
 of, I remain. Yours, so-so, 
 
 "HoHACE Greeley." 
 
 And hero, closing the last volume of the Tribune, the reader is 
 invited to a survey of the place whence it was issued, to glance at 
 the routine of the daily press, to witness the scene in which our 
 hero has labored so long. The Tribune building remains to b© ex- 
 hibited. 
 

 [mr. GKi;^;L:;Y and mk. ijana ix the ediiokial koc:i3.1 
 
CHAPTER XXYIII. 
 
 DAY AND NIGHT IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 rhe streets before daybreak — Waking the newsboys— Morning scene in tlie press-room 
 — The Compositor's room— The lour Phalimxes— The Tribune Directory— A lull in 
 the Tribune office — A glance at the paper — The advertisements — Telegraphic mar- 
 vels — Marine Intelligence — New Publications^Letters from the people — Editorial 
 articles— The editorial Rooms— Tlie Sanctum Sanctorum— Solon Robinson — Uay- 
 ard Taylor— William Henry Fry— George Ripley— Charles A. Dana— F. J. Ottarson 
 — George M. Snow— Enter Horace Greeley — His Preliminary botheration — The 
 composing-room in Iho evening — The editors at work — Mr. Greeley's manner of 
 writing — Midnight- Three o'clock in the morning — The carriers. 
 
 "We are in the streets, walking from the regions wliere money is 
 spent towards those narrow and croolvcd places wherein it is earned. 
 The day is about to dawn, but tlie street lights are still burning, and 
 the greater part of the million people who live witliin sight of the 
 City ITall's illuminated dial, are lying horizontal and unconscious, in 
 the morning's last slumber. The streets are neither silent nor de- 
 serted — the streets of New York never are. The earliest milkmen 
 have begun their morning crow, squeak, wlioop, and yell. The 
 first omnibus has not yet come down town, but the butcher's 
 carts, heaped with horrid flesh, with men sitting upon it reeking 
 with a night's carnage, are rattling along Broadway at the furious 
 pace for which the butcher's carts of all nations are noted. The 
 earliest workmen are abroad, dinner-kettle in hand ; carriers with 
 their bundles of newspapers sluug across their backs by a strap, 
 are emerging from Nassau street, and making their way across the 
 Park — towards all the ferries — up Broadway — up Chatham street — 
 to wherever their district of distribution begins. The hotels have 
 just opened their doors and liglited up their offices ; and drowsy 
 waiters are perambulating the interminable passages, knocking up 
 passengers for the early trains, and waking up everybody else. In 
 unnumbered kitchens the breakfast fire is kindling, but not yet, in 
 any except the market restaurants, is a cup of coffee attainable. 
 Tif. very groggeries — strange to see — are closed. Apparently, the 
 
392 DAY AND KIGHT IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 last drankard has toppled home, and the last debauchee has skulked 
 like a thieving hound to his own bed ; for the wickedness of the 
 night has been done, and the work of the day is beginning. 
 There is something in the aspect of the city at this liour — the stare 
 glittering over-head — the long lines of gas-lights that stretch away 
 in every direction — the few wayfarers stealing in and out among 
 them in silence, like spirits — tlie myriad sign-boards so staring now, 
 and useless — the houses all magnified in the imperfect light — so 
 many evidences of intense life around, and yet so little of life vis- 
 ibly present — which, to one who sees it for the first time (and few 
 of us have ever seen it), is strangely impressive. 
 
 The Tribune building is before us. It looks as we never saw it 
 look before. The oflice is closed, and a gas-light dimly burning 
 shows that no one is in it. The dismal inky aperture in Spruce 
 street by which the upper regions of the Tribune den are usually 
 reached is shut, and the door is locked. That glare of light which 
 on all previous nocturnal walks we have seen illuminating the 
 •windows of the third and fourth stories, revealing the bobbing com- 
 positor in his paper cap, and the bustling night-editor making up 
 his news, shines not at this hour; and those windows are undistin- 
 guished from the lustreless ones of the houses adjacent. Coiled up 
 on the steps, stretched out on the pavement, are half a dozen 
 sleeping newsboys. Two or three others are awake and up, of 
 whom one is devising and putting into practice various modes of 
 suddenly waking the sleepers. He rolls one off the step to the 
 pavement, the shock of which is very eifectual. He deals another 
 who lies temptingly exposed, a 'loud-resounding' slap, which 
 brings the slumberer to his feet, and to his fists, in an instant. Into 
 the ear of a third he yells the magic word Fire^ a word which 
 the New York newsboy never hears with indifference ; the sleeper 
 starts up, but perceiving the trick, growls a curse or two, and ad- 
 dresses himself again to sleep. In a few minutes all the boys are 
 awake, and taking their morning ixercise of scuffling. The base- 
 ment of the building, we observe, is all a-glow with light, though 
 the clanking of the press is silent. The carrier's entrance is open, 
 and we descend into the fiery bowels of the street. 
 
 We are in the Tribune's press-room. It is a large, low, cellar-like 
 apartment, unceiled, white-washed, inky, and unclean, with a vast 
 
MORNING SCENE IN THE PRESS ROOM. 393 
 
 folding tAb'e in tlie middle, tall heaps of dampened paper ali abont, 
 a qnietly-rnnning ateatn engine of nine-horae power on one ?ide, 
 twenty-five inky men and boya variously employed, and the whole 
 brilliantly lighted up by jets of gas, numerous and flaring. On one 
 side is a kind of desk or pulpit, with a table before it, and the 
 whole separated from the rest of the apartment by a rail. In the 
 pnlpit, the night-clerk stands, counts and serves out the papers, 
 .with a nonchalant and graceful rapidity, that must be seen to be 
 appreciated. Tiie regular carriers were all served an hour ago •, 
 they have folded their papers and gone their several ways; and 
 early risers, two miles off, have already read the news of the da}'. 
 The later newsboys, now, keep dropping in, singly, or in squads of 
 three or four, each with his money ready in his hand. Usually, no 
 words pass between them and the clerk ; he either knows how 
 many papers they have come for, or they show him by exhibiting 
 their money; and in three seconds after his eye lights upon a newly- 
 arrived dirty face, he has counted the requisite number of papers, 
 counted the money for them, and thrown the papers in a heap into 
 the boy's arms, who slings them over his shoulder and hurries off 
 for his supply of Times and Heralds. Occasionally a woman come« 
 in for a few papers, or a little girl, or a boy so small that he cannot 
 see over the low rail in front of the clerk, and is obliged to an- 
 nounce his presence and his desires by holding above it his little 
 cash capital in his little black paw. In another part of the press- 
 room, a dozen or fifteen boys are folding papers for the early mails, 
 and folding tliem at the average rate of thirty a minute. A boy 
 has folded si.xty papers a minute in that press-room. Each paper 
 has to be folded si.T times, and then laid evenly on the pile; and 
 the velocity of movement required for the performance of such a 
 minute's work, the reader can have no idea of till he sees it done. 
 As a feat, nothing known to the sf)orting world approaches it. The 
 huge presses, that shed six printed leaves at a stroke, are in deep 
 vaults adjoining the press-room. They are motionless now, but the 
 gas that has lighted them during their morning's work still spurts 
 out in flame all over them, and men with blue shirts and black 
 faces are hoisting out the ' forms ' that have stamped their story on 
 thirty thousand sheets. The vaults are oily, inky, and warm. Let 
 as ascend. 
 
 17* 
 
394 DAY AND NIGHT IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 The day has dawned. As we approach the stairs that lead to the 
 upper stories, we get a peep into a small, paved yard, where a 
 group of pressmen, blue-overalled, ink-smeared, and pale, are wash- 
 ing themselves and the ink-rollers ; and looking, in the dim light of 
 the morning, like writhing devils. The stairs of the Tribune building 
 are supposed to bo the dirtiest in the world. By their assistance, 
 however, we wind our upward way, p.ast the editorial rooms in the 
 third story, which are locked, to the composing-room in the fourth,, 
 which are open, and in which the labor of transposing the news of 
 the morning to the form of the weekly paper is in progress. Only 
 two men are present, the foreman, Mr. Rooker, and one of his assist- 
 ants. Neither of them wish to be spoken to, as their minds are 
 occupied with a task that requires care ; but we are at liberty to 
 look around. 
 
 The composing-room of the Tribune is, I believe, tlie most con- 
 venient, complete, and agreeable one in the country. It is very 
 spacious, nearly square, lighted by windows on two sides, and by 
 sky-lights from above. It presents an ample expanse of type-fonts, 
 gas-jets with large brown-paper shades above them, long tables 
 covered with columns of bright, copi)er-taced tyi)e, either 'dead' 
 or waiting its turn for publication; and whatever else appertains to 
 the printing of a newspaper. Stuffed into corners and interstices 
 are aprons and slippers in curious variety. Pasted on the walls, 
 lamp-shades, and doors, we observe a number of printed notices, 
 from the perusal of which, aided by an occasional word from the 
 obliging foreman, we are enabled to penetrate the mystery, and 
 comprehend the routine, of the place. 
 
 Here, for example, near the middle of the apartment, are a row 
 of hooks, labeled respectively, ' Leaded Brevier ;' 'Solid Brevier;' 
 'Minion;' 'Proofs to revise;' 'Compositors' Proofs — let no profane 
 hand touch them except Smith's ;'' Bogus minion — when there is 
 no other copy to be given out, then take froni this hook.' Upon 
 these hooks, the foreman hangs the 'copy' as lie receives it from 
 below, and the men take it in turn, requiring no further direction 
 as to the kind of type into which it is to be set. The ' bogus-min- 
 ion ' hook contains matter not intended to be used ; it is designed 
 merely to keep the men constantly employed, so as to obviate the 
 necessity of their making petty charges for lost time, and thus com- 
 
THE TRIBUNE DIRECTORY. 395 
 
 plicaling tlieir accounts. Below tlio 'bogus-hook,' there appears 
 this 'Particular Notice:' 'This copy must be set, ami the Takes 
 emptied, wiiii the same care as tlie rest.' From which we may in- 
 fer, that a man is inclined to slight work that he knows to be use- 
 les.^, ever, though it be paid for at the usual price per thousand. 
 
 Another printed paper lets us into another secret. It is a list of the 
 compositors enqdoycd in the office, divided into four " Phalanxes" of 
 about ten men each, a highly advantageous arrangement, devised by 
 Mr. Rooker. At night, when the copy begins to " slack up," i. e. 
 when the work of the night approaches completion, one phalanx is 
 dismissed; then another; then another; then the last; and the 
 phalanx which leaves first at night comes first in the morning, and 
 so on. The men who left work at eleven o'clock at night must he 
 again in tlie office at nine, to distribute type and set up news for the 
 evening edition of the paper. The second jdialanx begins work at 
 two, the third at five; and at seven the whole company must be at 
 their posts; for, at seven, the business of the night begins in earnest. 
 Printers will have their joke — as appears from this list. It is set in 
 double columns, and as the number of men happened to be an un- 
 even one, one name was obliged to occupy a line by itself, and it 
 appears thus — "Baker, (the teat-pig.)" 
 
 The following notice deserves attention from the word with which 
 it begins : " Gentlemen desiring to wash and soak their distributing 
 matter will please use hereafter the metal galleys I had cast for the 
 purpose, as it is ruinous to galleys having wooden sides to keep wet 
 type in them locked up. Thos. N. Pooker." It took the world an 
 unknown number of thousand years to arrive at tiiat word 'GEN- 
 TLEMEN.' Indeed, the world has not arrived at it ; but there it is, in 
 the composing-room of the New York Tribune, legible to all visitors. 
 
 Passing by other notices, such as " Attend to the gas-meter on 
 Wednesdays and Saturdays, and to the clock on Monday morning," 
 we may spend a minute or two in looking over a long printed cata- 
 logue, posted on the door, entitled, " Tribune Directory. Corrected 
 May 10, 1854. A list of Editors, Keporters, Publishers, Clerks, 
 Compositors, Proof-Pweaders, Pressmen, &.C., employed on the New 
 York Tribune," 
 
 From tliis Directory one may learn that the Editor of the Tribune 
 is H iTSLce Greeley, the Managing-Editor Charles A. Dana, the Asso- 
 
396 DAY AND NIGHT IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 ciate-Editors, James S. Pike, William IT. Fry, George Ripley, George 
 M. Snow, Bayard Taylor, F. J. Ottarson, William Newinau, B. "Brock 
 way, Solon Robinson, and Donald C. Henderson. We perceive also 
 that Mr. Ottarson is the City Editor, and that his assistants are in 
 number fourteen. One of these keeps an eye on the P^ilice, chron- 
 icles arrests, walks the hospitals in search of dreadful accidents, and 
 keeps the public advised of the state of its health. Three report 
 lectures and speeches. Another gathers items of intelligence in 
 Jersey City, Newark, and parts adjacent. Others do the same in 
 Brooklyn and Williamsburgh. One gentleman devotes himself to 
 the reporting of fires, and the movements of the military. Tw6 
 examine and translate from the New York papers which are pub- 
 lished in the German, French, Italian and Spanish langunges. Then, 
 there is a Law Reporter, a Police Court Reporter, and a Collector 
 of Marine Intelligence. Proceeding down the formidable catalogue, 
 we discover that the 'Marine Bureau' (in common with the xVsso- 
 ciated Press) is under the charge of Commodore John T. Hall, who 
 is assisted by twelve agents and reporters. Besides these, the Tri- 
 bune has a special 'Ship News Editor.' The 'Telegraphic Bureau' 
 (also in common with the Associated Press) employs one general 
 agent and two subordinates, (one at Liverpool and one at Halifax,) 
 and fifty reporters in various parts of the coimtry. The number of 
 regular and pai-d correspondents is thirty-eight — eighteen foreign, 
 twenty home. The remaining force of the Tribune, as we are in- 
 formed by the Directory, is, Thos. M'Elrath, chief of tiie depart- 
 ment of publication, assisted by eight clerks; Thos. N. Rooker, fore- 
 man of the composing-room, with eight assistant-foremen (tlireo by 
 day, five by night), thirty-eight regular compositors, and twenty- 
 five substitutes ; George Hall, foreman of the press-room, with three 
 assistants, sixteen feeders, twenty-five folders, three wrapper- writers, 
 and three boys. Besides these, there are four proof-readers, and a 
 number of miscellaneous individuals. It thus appears that the 
 whole number of persons employed upon the paper is about two 
 hundred and twenty, of whom about one hundred and thirty devote 
 to it their whole time. The Directory further informs us that the 
 proprietors of the establishment are sixteen in number — namely, 
 eeven editors, the publisher, four clerks, the foreman of the compos- 
 
A GLANCE AT THE i'APER. 397 
 
 ing-room, the foreman of tlie press-room, one compositor and ona 
 press-man. 
 
 Except for a few hours on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morn- 
 ins:, tlie work of a daily paper never entirely ceases ; but, at this 
 hour of tlie day, between six and seven o'clock, it docs nearly 
 cease. The editors are still, it is to be hoped, asleep. The compos- 
 itors have been in bed for two hours or more. The pressmen of 
 the night are going home, and those of the day have not arrived. 
 The carriers have gone their rounds. The youngest clerks have not 
 yet a])peared in the othce. All but the slowest of the newsboys 
 have got their supi)ly of papers, and are making the streets and fer- 
 ries vocal, or vociferous, with their well-known names. There is a 
 general hill ; and while that lull continues, we shall lose nothing by 
 going to breakfast. 
 
 Part of wiiich is the New Yoik Tribune; and we may linger 
 over it a little longer than usual this morning. 
 
 It does not look like it, but it is a feet, as any one moderately en- 
 dowed wirii arithmetic can easily ascertain, that one number of the 
 Tril)une, if it were printed in the form of a book, with liberal type 
 and spacing, would make a duodecimo volume of four hundred 
 pages — a volume, in fact, not mucli less in magnitude than the one 
 which the reader has, at this moment, the singular happiness of 
 perusing. Ivich number is the result of, at least, two hundred days' 
 work, or the work of two hundred men for one day; and it is sold 
 (to carriers and newsboys) for one cent and a half. Lucifer matclies. 
 at forty-four cents for a hundred and forty-four boxes, are supposed, 
 and justly, to be a miracle of cheapness. Pins are cheap, consider- 
 ing; and so are steel pens. But the cheapest thing yet realized un- 
 der the s-un is the New York Tribune. 
 
 The number for this morning contains six hundred and forty-one 
 separate articles — from two-line advertisements to two-column es- 
 says — of which five hundred and ten are advertisements, the re- 
 mainder, one hundred and thirty-one, belonging to the various de- 
 partments of reading matter. The reading matter, however, occu- 
 pies about one half of the whole space — nearly four of the eight 
 broad pages, nearly twenty-four of the forty-eight columns. • The 
 articles and paragraphs which must have been written for this num- 
 ber, yesterday, or very recently, in tlie oflBce or at the editors' resi« 
 
398 DAY AND NIGHT IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 dences, fill tliirteen colntunsj equal to a hundred pages of foolscap, 
 or eight} such pages as this. There are five columns of telegraphic 
 intelligence, which is, perhaps, two columns above the average. 
 There are twelve letters from ' our own' and voluntary correspond- 
 ents, of which five are from foreign countries There have been as 
 many as thirty letters in one number of the Tribune ; there are sel- 
 dom less than ten. 
 
 What has the Tribune of this morning to say to us ? Let us see. 
 
 It is often asked, who reads advertisements ? and the question is 
 often inconsiderately answered, 'Nobody.' But, idle reader, if you 
 were in search of a boarding-house this morning, these two columns 
 of advertisements, headed 'Board and Rooms,' would be read by ^'ou 
 with the liveliest interest; and so, in other circumstances, would 
 those which reveal a hundred and fifty ' Wants,' twenty-two i)laces 
 of amusement, twenty-seven new publications, forty-two schools, 
 ind thirteen establishments where the best pianos in existence are 
 made. If you had come into the possession of a jbrtune yesterday, 
 this column of bank-dividend announcements would not be passed 
 by with indiflFerence. And if you were the middle-aged gentleman 
 who advertises his desire to open a correspondence with a young 
 ladj' (all communications post-paid and the strictest secresy ob- 
 served), you might peruse with anxiety these seven advertisements 
 of hair-dye, each of which is either infallible, unapproachable, or 
 the acknowledged best. And the eye of the 'young lady' who ad- 
 dresses you a post-paid communication in reply, informing you 
 where an interview may be had, would perhaps rest for a moment 
 upon the description of the new Baby-Walker, with some compla- 
 cency. If the negotiation were successful, it were difRcult to say 
 what colunm of advertisements would not, in its turn, become of 
 the highest interest to one or the other, or both of you. In truth, 
 every one reads the advertisements which concern them. 
 
 The wonders of the telegraph are not novel, and, therefore, they 
 seem wonderful no longer. We glance up and down the columns 
 of telegraphic intelligence, and read without the slightest emotion, 
 dispatches from Michigan, Halifax, Washington, Baltimore, Cincin- 
 nati, Boston, Cleveland, St. Louis, New Orleans, and a dozen places 
 nearer the city, some of which give us news of events that had not 
 oo urred when we went to bed last night. The telegraphic news of 
 
THE DEPARTMENTS OF THE PAPER. 399 
 
 this morning lias run along four tliousand seven hundred and fifLy 
 miles of wire, and its transmission, at the piihlished rates, must have 
 cost between two and three hundred dollars. On one occasion, re,- 
 cently, the steamer arrived at Halifax at half-past eleven in the eve- 
 ning, and the substance of her news was ciuitaincd in the New York 
 papers the next morning, and probably in tlio papers of New Or- 
 leans. A debate which concludes in Washington at midnight, is read 
 HI Fiftieth street, New York, six hours after. But these are stale 
 marvels, and they are received by us entirely as a matter of course. 
 
 The City department of the paper, conducted with uucommou 
 efficiency by Mr. Ottarson, gives us this morning, in sufficient detail, 
 the proceedings of a 'Demonstration' at Tammany Hall — of a meet- 
 ing of the Bible Union — a session of the committee investigating 
 the affairs of Columbia college — a meeting to devise measures for 
 the improvement of the colored population — a temperance 'Demon- 
 stration'— a session of the Board of Aldermen — a meeting of the 
 commissioners of emigration — and one of the commissioners of ex- 
 cise. A trial for murder is reported ; the particulars of seven fires 
 are stated ; the performance of the opera is noticed ; the progress of 
 the 'State Fair' is chronicled, and there are thirteen 'city items.' 
 And what is most surprising is, that seven-tentlis of the city mat- 
 ter must have been prepared in the evening, for most of the events 
 narrated did not occur till after dark. 
 
 The Law Intelligence includes brief notices of the transactions of 
 five courts. The Oofnmercial Intelligence gives minute informa- 
 tion respecting the demand for, the supply of, the price, and the re- 
 cent sales, of twenty-one leading articles of trade. The Marine 
 Journal takes note of the sailing and arrival of two hundred and 
 seven vessels, with the name of the captain, owners and consign- 
 ees. Tins is, in truth, the most astonishing department of a daily 
 paper. Arranged under the heads of " Cleared," " Arrived," "Dis- 
 asters," "To mariners," " Spoken," " Wlialers," "Foreign Ports," 
 " Domestic Ports," " Passengers sailed," " Passengers arrived," it 
 presents daily a mass and a variety of facts, which do not astound 
 us, only because we see tlie wonder daily repeated. Nor is the 
 Bhi|iping intelligence a mere catalogue of names, places and figures. 
 Witness these sentences cut almost at random from the dense col- 
 uiuus of small type iu which the affairs of the sea are printed: 
 
•tW DAY AND SIGHT IS TUS TRXBrSS OFFICE. 
 
 " Bark Gen. Jones, (of Bov-ilou,) Hodgden, liou^lou 47 davs, ohalK to E. S, 
 Belkuap A Sons. Aug. 14, lat. 50* U , lou. 9* 'iO\ spoke ship Merensa, of Bos- 
 ton, 19 davs from Eastp<.>rt for Loudou. Auj;. 19, .slgualizod a ship showing 
 "Nos. 55, 31 , steering E. Aug. iO, signalized ship I.saao Allerton, of Now York. 
 Sept. 1, spoke Br. Emerald, and supplied her with some provUious. Sept. 13, 
 lat. 43*^ 36', lou 49*^ 54', passed a number of empty barrels and broken pieces of 
 oars. Sept. 13, lat 43*, long 50* 40 , while Iviug to in a gale, passed a vessel's 
 spars and broken pieoes of bulwarks, painted black and while; supposed the 
 spars to be a ship's topm^wts. Sept. 19, lat. 41* 14', lou. 56*, signalised a bark 
 showing a re<.l signal with a white spot in center." 
 
 As iio one not iiiterojited in niarino attUirs ovof bestows a glanoe 
 upou this part of his daily papor, theso ooudonsed tnigodies of the 
 sea will W novel to the geuenil roader. To oonipilo tho ship-uewa 
 of this single morning, the log-books of tweuty-sevei^ vessels must 
 have been extunined, and intbnutitiou obtained by letter, telegraph, 
 or exehauge papers, tVoui ninety-three sea-pori towns, of which thir- 
 ty-one are in foreign countries. Copied here, it would till thirty-tive 
 pages, and every line of it was proeured yesterday. 
 
 The money article of tho Tribune, to those who have any money, 
 is highly interesting. It chronicles, to-day, the sitles of stocks, tho 
 price of excliange and freight, the arrivals and departures of gold, 
 the condition of the sub-treasury, the state of tho coal-trade and 
 other mining interests, and ends with gossi[> and argument abotit 
 the Schuyler frauds. There is a vast amount of labor condensed 
 iu the two columns which the money article usually occupies. 
 
 The Tribune, from the beginning of its career, has kept a vigilant 
 eye upon pasjiing literature. Its judgments have great weight with 
 the reading i)ublic. They are always pronounced with, at least, au 
 air of deliberation. They are always able, generally just, occasion- 
 ally cruel, more frequently too kind. In this department, taking 
 into account the quantity of information given — both of home aud 
 foreign literature, of books published and of books to be publislied 
 — and the talent and knowledge displayed in its notices and reviews, 
 the superiority of the Tribune to any existing daily pai)er is simply 
 undeniable. Articles occasionally appear in the London journals, 
 written a/'ter every other paper has expressed its judgment, written 
 at ample leisure and by men pre-eminent in the one branch of let- 
 tere to which the reviewed book belongs, which are superior to the 
 reviews of the Tribune. It is the literary d<partiHeut o( the paper. 
 
rill I OKI At. MlTKM.KH. 
 
 4o; 
 
 for wliirli mi|n'i ii.i il y in Iicr<' a«sci(.cil. 'I'"-il(iy, ll lin|)|>('liH, tluil, tlio 
 |iii|M<r ciihtiiid-i iiolliiiiir lih'iiiry. In i\. ilnlly |)ii|icr, ncwH Im'i llio 
 |iri'C(Ml(Mict< (if cvcrytliiiijc, nrid a rtivicnv nt' an «])ic, (^rcalcr lliaii 
 I'/ir/i(li'i(i [,(m|, ini(/lit. lio rrowdod out, liy llm njiort of an clf'.c.tJoii 
 Itnivvl in I lie Sixlli W/n'il. Tims, a poor antlior i-< ol'tcn k<-]A. in Iroin- 
 iiiiiij/ Mnupcnvd lor dayH, or oven wcidc^, waitinj/ lor tlic I'ovicw 
 wliirli III' I'l ronronHly tliinl;K will niukn or mar him. 
 
 l.iKd rcoplr, likd I'ricHi, sayM liid old maxim; wliidi Wd rnaj 
 amond hy Miiyini;, I,ik« I'Milor, liku (!orrCM|)ondcn(. I'lom Mkihc 
 ' liCllrrH IVom [\\i\ rco|il(>,' wo iid'cr, lli/il. wlicn a man liaw HonK^tliing 
 l(t say to llic |inlilic, of a rclormatory or liumanitary nalni'c, lid Ih 
 prone lo iiidili' an epistle ' lo llie Ivlitor of llio New York Trilmne,' 
 who, OM IiIh purl, in leiiderneMM to tho pulilie, ist oxecedin^jy prone 
 ti> eonHlf/n it In ihe h.'i^ket. of ohlivion. A ^;ood many of IIioho lot- 
 l.eri, however, eneape into |irinl to-day, foiii", oil some da3'8 a dozen. 
 The London lelleix id' the 'I'l-ilnme are writ ten in London, the I'aria 
 lellerH in I'liri-i, the 'find me loo Idlers in Tindnuloo. 'i'liin in slran(,'P, 
 hnl Irne. 
 
 In Hm ediloriiil depiirlmenl, llir 'I'lilmne lian two advanta/,;eH over 
 nioHt. (d ilH eonliMnporaries. In the first, iilaee, it IniM an ohjeet of 
 atlaek, the slave jiower; and seeondly, by a lonjr eonrHo of warfare, 
 il ha-j won the eonceded privile^fe of liein;; sincere. Any one who 
 liiiH had lo do with the jiress, is aware, tiiat, arlieles in newspapei'S 
 ai'e of two kinds, namely, those which are wrillen /or a piir/>one 
 not avowed, and those which are wrillen sponlaneoiisly, iVoni tho 
 impnlse ainl convictions of the writer's own mind. And any one 
 who has wrillen ailiclesof holh deseripl ions is uware, I'lirlher, lliatu 
 man who is wrilin^r with |ierlecl. sincerity, wrilin^^ with, a pnro do- 
 sire lo move, inleresi, or convince, writes lullrr, than wlu-n the 
 neiH'ssiiies of his vocal ion compel him to ijriiul (lie axe. for a parly, 
 or an individual. There is more or less of axc-;;riiidiii!,' done in 
 every ni'wspaiier ollice in lli(< world ; and a peirrcl ly imlependent 
 newspa|ter never e\isted. 'I'ake, for example, the London rimes, 
 whicii is rlaiined to ln< the most, iiu'orrnplihle of journals. The 
 wrilerH for I ho Times are Irainmelcd, lirsf, by the ininioiiso /wsiliou 
 of the paper, which '/\\k\ to its lejidin;.: arlicles a possihle inllneiun) 
 upon the all'airs <>»' tint world. The aim of the writer is |o express, 
 not himse'f, hill Knoi.anh; as tho Times is, in oilier coniilries, the 
 
402 DAT AND NIGHT IN THE TFxIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 recognized voice of tlie British Empire ; and it is tliis wliicli ren- 
 ders miicli of the writing in iUe Times as safe, as vague, and aa 
 pointless, as a diplomatist's dispatcli. The Times is fni'tlier tram 
 meled by the business necessity of keeping on terms with tliose 
 who liave it in their power to give and witliliohl important intelli- 
 gence. And, still further, by the fact, tliat general England^ whom 
 it addresses, is not up to the liberality of the age — in which tlie 
 leading minds alone fully partici[)ate. Thus, it hai)pens, thot the 
 articles in a ])aper like The Leader, which reaches only the liberal 
 class, are often more pointed, more vigorous, more interesting, tlian 
 those of the Times, thougli the resources of the Leader are extremely 
 limited, and the Times can have its pick of the wit, talent, and learn- 
 ing of the empire. When a man writes with perfect freedom, then, 
 and only then, he writes his hest. Without claiming for the Tri- 
 bune a perfect innocence of axe-grinding, it may with truth be said, 
 that the power of its leading editorial articles is vastly increased by 
 the fact, that those who write them, do so with as near an ap]>roach 
 to pej-fect freedom, i. e. sincerity, as the njiture of newspaper-writ- 
 ing, at present, admits of. What it gains, too, in s[)irit and interest 
 by having the preposterous inaptitude of the Southern press to rid- 
 icule, and the liorrors of Southern brutality to denounce, is sufR- 
 cientl}' known. 
 
 But it is time we returned to the office. It is ten o'clock in tlie 
 morning. The clerks in the office are at their posts, receiving ad- 
 vertisements, recording them, entering the names of new subscrib- 
 ers received by the morning's mail, of which on some mornings of 
 the year there are hundreds. It is a busy scene. 
 
 Up the dismal stairs to a dingy door in the third story, upon 
 which we read, " Editorial Rooms of the New York Tribune. H. 
 Greeley." We ouglit not to be allowed to enter, but we are, and 
 we do ; no one hinders us, or even notices our entrance. First, a 
 narrow passage, with two small rooms on the left, whence, later in 
 the day, the rapid hum of proof-reading issues unceasingly, one man 
 reading the 'copy' aloud, another having his eyes fixed upon the slip 
 of proof. One may insert Ids visage into the square aperture in the 
 doors of these minute apartments, and gaze upon the performance 
 with persistent impertinence ; but the proof-reading goes on, like a 
 machine. At this hour, however, these rooms contain no one. A 
 
THE EDITOraAL ROOMS. 403 
 
 few step?, and Uie principfil Editorial Room is before ns. It is a 
 long, narrow apartment, witli desks tor tlio prineipal editors along 
 the sides, with shelves well-loaded with books and manuscripts, a 
 great heap of exchange pajiers in the midst, and a file of the Tri- 
 bune on a broad desk, slanting from the wall. Everything is in 
 real order, but apparent confusion, and the whole is ' blended in a 
 common element of dust.' Nothing purticulnr appears to be going 
 on. Tavo or three gentlemen are looking over the papers; but the 
 desks are all vacant, and each has upon its lid a pile of letters and 
 papers awaiting the arrival of him to whose department they be- 
 long. One desk presents an array of new publications that miglit 
 well appal the most industrious critic — twenty-four new books, 
 seven magazines, nine pamphlets, and two new papers, all expect- 
 ing a ' first-rate notice.' At the right, we observe another and 
 smaller room, Avith a green carpet, two desks, a sofa, and a large 
 book-case, filled with books of reference. This is the sanctum sanc- 
 torum. The desk near tlie window, that looks out upon the green 
 Park, tlie white City Hall in the midst thereof, and the hues of 
 moving life that bound the same, is the desk of the Editor-in-Chief. 
 It presents confusion merely. The shelves are heaped witli manu- 
 scripts, books, and pamphlets ; its lid is covered with clippings from 
 newspapers, each containing something supposed by the assiduous 
 exchange-reader to be of special interest to the Editor; and over 
 all, on the highest shelf, near the ceiling, stands a large bronze bust 
 of Henry Clay, wearing a crown of dust. Tlie otiier desk, near the 
 door, belongs to the second in command. It is in perfect order. 
 A heap of foreign letters, covered with stam[)s and post-marks, 
 awaits his coming. The row of huge, nmsty volumes along the 
 floor against one of the walls of the room, is a complete file of the 
 Tril/une, with some odd volumes of the New Yorker and Log 
 Ca'nu. 
 
 An hour later. One by one the editors arrive. Solon Robinson, 
 looking, with his flowing white beard and healthy countenance, like 
 a good-humored Prophet Isaiah, or a High Priest in undress, has 
 dropped into his corner, and is compiling, from letters and newspa- 
 pers, a column of paragraphs touching the effect of the drouth 
 upon the potato crop. Bayard Taylor is reading a paper in the 
 American attitude. His countenance has quite lost the Nubiaa 
 
104 DAY AND NIGHT IN THE IRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 bronze with wliich it darkened on the banks of the "Wliite N'ile, as 
 well as the Japanning which his last exenrsion gave it. Pale, deh- 
 cate-featnred, with a cnrling beard and subdued moustache, slight 
 in figure, and dressed with care, he has as little the aspect of an ad' 
 venturous traveler, and as much the air of a nice young gentleman, 
 as can be imagined. He may read in peace, for he is not now one 
 of the ' hack-horses' of the daily i)ress. Tlie tall, pale, intense- 
 looking gentleman wlio is slowly pacing the car[iet of the inner 
 sanctum is Mr. "William H Fry, the composer of Leonora. At this 
 moment he is thinking out thunder for to ijiorrow's Tribune. Wil- 
 liam Henry Fry is one of tlie noblest fellows alive — a hater ot 
 meanness and wrong, a lover of man and right, witli a power of 
 expression equal to the intensity of his hate and the enthusiasm of 
 his love. There is more merit in Ids little finger than in a whole 
 mass-meeting of Douglass-senators ; and from any but a grog-ruled 
 city he would have been sent to Congress long ago ; but perhaps, 
 as Otiiello remarks, 'it is bettor as it is.' Mr. Ripley, wlio came in 
 a few minutes ago, and sat down before that marshaled array of 
 books and magazines, might be described in the language of Mr. 
 Weller the elder, as ' a stout gentleman of eight and forty.' He is 
 in for a long day's work apparently, and has taken off his coat. 
 Luckily for authors, Mr. Ripley is a gentleman of sound digestion 
 and indomitable good humor, who enjoys life and helps others en- 
 joy it, and believes that anger and hatred are seldom proper, and 
 never 'pay.' He examines each book, we observe, with care. 
 "Without ever being in a hurry, he gets tlirough an amazing quan- 
 tity of work; and all he does shows the toui'h and finish of the 
 practical hand. Mr. Dana enters with a (juiok, <lccided step, goes 
 straight to Ids desk in the green-cari)eted sanctum sanctorum, and 
 is soon lost in the perusal of ' Karl Marx,' or ' An American Wo- 
 man in Paris.' In figure, face, and flowing beard, he looks enough 
 like Louis Kossuth to be his cousin, if not his brother. Mr. Dana, 
 as befits his place, is a gentleman of peremptory habits. It is his 
 oflSce to decide ; and, as he is called upon to perf< rm the act of de- 
 cision a hundred times a day, he has acquired t.ie power both of 
 deciding with despatch and of announcing his decision with civil 
 brevity, If you desire a plain answer to a plain question, Charles 
 A. Dana is the gentlen:au who can accommodate you. He is an 
 
THE EDITORIAL CORPS. 405 
 
 able anil, in tksci'i|ition, a brilliant writer ; a good speaker ; fond 
 and [iroud of iii.s profession; indefatigable in the discharge of its 
 duties; when onL of harness, agreeable as a companion; in harness, 
 a man not to be interrui)ted. Mr. Ottarson, the city editor, has not 
 yet made lis appearance ; he did not leave the office hist night till 
 three honrs after midnight. Before he left, however, ho prepared 
 a list of tilings to be reported and described to-day, writing oppo- 
 site each expected occurrence the name of the man whom he wished 
 to attend to it. Tlie reporters come to the office in tlie morning, 
 and from this list ascertain what special duty is expected of them. 
 Mr. Ottarson rose from the ranks, lie has been everything in a 
 newspaper office, from devil to editor. lie is one of the busiest of 
 men, and fills the most difficult [xist in the establishment with great 
 ability. That elegant and rather distingue gentleman with the 
 small, black, Albert moustache, who is writing at the desk over 
 there in the corner, is the commercial editor, the writer of the 
 money article — Mr. George ^1. Snow. We should have taken him 
 for anything but a commercial gentlemen. Mr. Pike, the ' J. S. P.' 
 of former Washington correspondence, now a writer on political 
 etibjects, is not present ; nor are other members of the corjis. 
 
 Between twelve and one, Mr. Greeley comes in, with his pockets 
 full of papers, and a bundle under his arm. His first act is to dis- 
 patch his special aid-de-sauctum on various errands, such as to de- 
 liver notes, letters and messages, to procure seeds or imiJJements 
 for the farm, et cetera. Then, perha[)s, he will comment on the 
 morning's paper, dwelling with pertinacious emphasis upon its de- 
 fects, hard to be convinced that an alleged fault was unavoidable. 
 After two or three amusing colloquies of this nature, he makes 
 his way to the sanctum, where, usually, several people are waiting 
 to see him. He takes his seat at his desk and begins to examine 
 the heap of notes, letters, newspapers and clippings, with which it 
 is covered, while one after another of his visitors states his busi- 
 ness. One is an exile who wants advice, or a loan, or an advertise- 
 ment inserted gratis ; he does not get the loan, for Mr. Greeley 
 long ago shut down the door upon miscellaneous borrowers and 
 beggars. Another visitor has an invention which he wishes par- 
 agraphed into celebrity. Another is one of the lecture-committee 
 of a country Lyceum, and wants our editor to ' come out and give 
 
406 DAY AND NIGHT IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 US a lecture tliis winter.' Anotliei* is a coniitry clergyman tvIio hm 
 called to say how iiiucli he likes the seini-weekly Tribune, and to 
 gratify his curiosity by speaking with the editor face to face. Grad- 
 ually the throng diminishes and the pile of papers is reduced. By 
 three or four o'clock, this preliminary botheration is disposed of, 
 and Mr. Greeley goes to dinner. 
 
 Meanwhile, all the departments of the establishment have beep 
 in a state of activity. It is Thursday, the day of the "Weekly Tri 
 bune, the inside of which began to be printed at seven in the morn- 
 ing. Before the day closes, the whole edition, one hundred and 
 sixteen thousand, forty-eight cart-loads, will have been printed, 
 folded, wrapped, bundled, bagged, and carried to the post-office. 
 The press-room on Thursdays does its utmost, and presents a scene 
 of bustle and movement ' easier, imagined than described.' No 
 email amount of work, too, is done in the office of publication. 
 To-day, as we ascertain, two hundred and thirteen business letters 
 ■were received, containing, among other things less interesting, 
 eleven hundred and seventy-two dollars, and four hundred and ten 
 new or renewed subscriptions, each of which has been recorded 
 and placed upon the wrapper-writer's books. The largest sum 
 ever received by one mail was eighteen hundred dollars. The 
 weekly expenditures of the concern average about six thousand 
 two hundred dollars, of which sum four thousand is for paper. 
 During the six dull months of the year, the receipts and expendi- 
 tures are about equal ; in the active months the receipts exceed 
 the expenditures. 
 
 It is nine o'clock in the evening. Gas has resumed. The clank 
 of the press has ceased, and the basement is dimly lighted. The 
 clerks, who have been so busy all day, liave gone home, and tlie 
 night-clerk, whom we saw this morning in his press-room pulpit, is 
 now behind the counter of the office receiving advertisements. 
 Niglit-work agrees with him, apparently, for he is robust, ruddy 
 and smiling. Aloft in the composing room, thirty-eight men are 
 Betting type, silently and fast. No sound is heard but the click of 
 the type, or the voice, now and then, of a foreman, or the noise of 
 of the copy-box rattling up the wooden pipe from the editor's room 
 below, or a muffled grunt from the tin tube by which the different 
 rooms hold converse with one another, or the bell which calls for 
 
THE COMPOSING ROOM IN THE EVENING. 407 
 
 the application of an car to tlie moutli of tliat tube. TIio place ia 
 ■warm, close, light, and still. Whether it i-.s necessarily detrimental 
 tA) a compositor's health to work from eiglitto ten liours every night 
 in such an atmospliere, in such a liglit, is still, it appears, a qiies- 
 lion. Mr. Greeley thinks it is not. Tiie compositors tliink it is, 
 and seldom feel able to work more than four niglits a week, filling 
 their places on the other nights from the list of substitutes, or in 
 printer's language ' subs.' Compositors say, that sleep in the day 
 time is a veiw different thing from sleep at night, particularly in 
 summer, when to create an artificial night is to exclude the needful 
 air. They say that they never get perfectly used to the reversion 
 of nature's order; and often, after a night of drowsiness so extreme 
 that they would give tlie world if they could sink down upon the 
 floor and sleep, they go to bed at length, and find that offended 
 Morpheus has taken his flight, and left their eye-lids glued to their 
 brows; and they cannot close them before the inexorable hour ar- 
 rives that summons tliom to work again. In the middle of the 
 room the principal night-foreman is already 'making up' the out- 
 side forms of to-morrow's paper, four in number, each a section of 
 a cylinder, with rims of jiolislied iron, and typo of copper face. It 
 is slow work, and a moment's inattention miglit produce results 
 more ridiculous than cross-readings. 
 
 The editorial rooms, too, have become intense. Seven desks are 
 occupied with silent writers, most of them in the Tribune uniform— 
 shirt-sleeves and moustache. The night-reader is looking over the 
 papers last arrived, with scissors ready for any paragrai)h of news 
 tliat catches his eye. An editor occasionally goes to the coi)y-box, 
 places in it a page or two of the article he is writing, and rings the 
 bell; the box slides up to the composing-room, and tbe pages are in 
 type and corrected before the article is finished. Such articles are 
 those which are prompted by the event of tlie hour; others are 
 THOre deliberately written ; some are weeks in preparation; and of 
 Bome the keel is laid months before they are launched upon tlie pub- 
 lic mind. The Editor-in-Chief is at his desk writing in a singular 
 attitude, the desk on a level with his nose, and the writer sitting 
 bolt upright. He writes rapidly, with scarcely a pause for thought, 
 and not once in a page makes an erasure. The foolscap leaves fly 
 from under his pen at the rate /f one in fifteen minutes. He does 
 
408 DAY AND NIGHT IN THE TKIIUNE OFFICE. 
 
 most of the thinking hcfore he begins to -write, and produces matter 
 about as fast as a swift copyist can copy. Yet he leaves nothing for 
 the compositor to guess at, and if he makes an alteration in the proof, 
 he is careful to do it in such a way that the printer loses no time in 
 'overrunning;' that is, he inserts as many words as he erases. Not 
 uufrequently he bounds up into the composing-room, and makes a 
 correction or adds a sentence with his own hand. lie is not patient 
 under the infliction of an error; and he expects men to understand 
 his wishes by intuition ; and when they do not, but interpret his 
 half-expressed orders in a way exactly contrary to his intention, a 
 scene is likely to ensue. 
 
 And so they write and read in the editorial rooms of the Tribune 
 for some liours. Occasionally a City Reporter comes in with his 
 budget of intelligence, or his short-hand notes, and sits down at a 
 desk to arrange or write them out. Telegrai)hio messages arrive 
 from the agent of the Associated Press, or from ' our own corre- 
 spondent.' Mr. Dana glances over them, sends them aloft, and, it 
 they are important, indites a paragraph calling attention to the fact. 
 That omnipresent creature, the down-town apple-woman, whom no 
 labyrinth puzzles, no extent of stairs fatigues, no presence overawes, 
 enters, and thrusts her basket in deliberate succession under each 
 editorial nose. Some of the corps, deep in the atlairs of the nation, 
 pause in their writing, gaze at the Avoman in utter abstraction, slow- 
 ly come to a sense of her errand, shake their heads, and resume 
 their work. Others hurriedly buy an apple, and taking one prodig- 
 ious bite, lay it aside and forget it. A band of music is heard in 
 the street; it is a target-excursion returning late from lloboken ; it 
 passes the otHce and gives it three cheers ; the city men go to the win- 
 dows; the rest write on unconscious of the honor that has been 
 done them; the Tribune returns the salute by a paragrai)h. 
 
 Midniglit. The strain is off. Mr. (ireeley tinished his work about 
 eleven, chatted a while with Mr. Dana, and went home. Mr. Dana 
 has received from the foreman the list of the articles in type, the 
 articles now in hand, and the articles expected ; he has designated 
 those which must go in ; those which it is highly desirable should 
 go in, and those which Avill 'kee}).' He has also marked tlie order 
 in which the articles are to appear ; and, having performed this last 
 duty, he returns the list to the compositor, puts on his coat anil de- 
 
MIDNIGHT. 409 
 
 parts. Mr. Fry is on tlie last page of lus critique of tliis evening's 
 Grisi, wliicli lie executes with steam-engine rapidity, and sends no 
 ■witiiout reading. Me lingers awliile, and then strolls off up town. 
 Mr. Ottarson is still busy, as reporters continually arrive witii items 
 of news, whicli he iiastily examines, and consigns either to the bas- 
 ket under his desk, or to the copy-box. The first i)lialanx of com- 
 positors is dismissed, and tl>ey come thundering down tlie dark stairs, 
 putting on their coats as they descend. The foreman is iil)sorbed in 
 making uj) tlie inside forms, as he has just sent those of the outside 
 below, and the distant clanking of tlie press annoum^es that they 
 have begun to be printed. We descend, and find the slieets coming 
 ofT the press at the rate of a hundred and sixty a minute. The en- 
 gine-man is commodiously seated on an inverted basket, under a 
 gas-jet, reading the outside of the morning's pa[)er, and tlie chief of 
 the press-rot)m is scanning a sheet to see if the impression is [)erfect. 
 The gigantic press has six mouths, and six men are feeding him with 
 white paper, slipping in the sheets with the easy knack acquired by 
 long practice. It looks a simple matter, this 'feeding;' but if a new 
 hand were to attempt it, the iron maw of the monster would be 
 instantly choked, and his whole system disarranged. For he is as 
 delicate as he is strong; the little finger of a child can start and 
 stop him, moderate his pace, or quicken it to the snapping of his 
 sinews. 
 
 Three o'clock in the morning Mr. Uttarson is in tronlile. The 
 outside of the paper is printed, tlie inside forms are ready to be low- 
 ered away to the basement, and the press-men are impatiently wait- 
 ing the signal to receive it. Tiie pulpit of the night clerk is ready 
 for his reception, the spacious folding- table is cleared, and two car- 
 riers iiave already arrived. All the compositors except the last 
 phalanx have gone home ; and they have corrected the last proof, 
 and.desire nothing so much as to be allowed to depart. But an 
 English steamer is overdue, and a telegraphic dispatch from the 
 agent of the Associated Press at Sandy Hook, who has been all night 
 in his yacht cruising for the news, is anxiously expected. It does 
 not come. The steamer (as wo afterwards ascertain) has arrived, 
 but the captain churlishly refused to throw on board the yacht the 
 customary uewspajier. Mr. Ottarson fancies he hears a gun. A 
 moment after he is positive he hears another. He has five men of 
 
 18 
 
410 DAY AND NIGHT IN THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 
 
 his corps ^vitllill call, and he sends them flying ! One goes to the 
 Astor House to see if they have heard of the steamer's arrival; an- 
 other to the offices of the Times and Herald, on the same errand; 
 others to Jersey City, to he ready in case the steamer reaches her 
 wharf in time. It is ascertained, about half-past three, that the 
 steamer is coming up the bay, and that her news cannot possibly be 
 procured before live; and so, Mr. Ottarson, having first ascertained 
 that tlie other morning papers have given up the hope of the news 
 for their first editions, goes to press in despair, and home in ill humor. 
 In a few minutes, the torms are lowered to the basement, wheeled 
 to the side of the press, and hoisted to their places on the press by 
 a crank. The feeders take their stands, the foreman causes the 
 press to make one revolution, examines a sheet, pronounces it all 
 right, sets the press in motion at a rattling rate, and nothing remains 
 to be done except to print off thirty thousand copies and distribute 
 them. 
 
 The last scene of all is a busy one indeed. The press-room is all 
 alive with carriers, news-men and folding-boys, each of whom is in 
 a fever of hurry. Four or five boys are carrying the papers in back- 
 loads from the press to the clerk, and to the mailing tables. The 
 carriers receive their papers in the order of the comparative dis- 
 tance of their districts from the office. No money passes between 
 them and the clerk. They come to the office every afternoon, ex- 
 amine the book of subscribers, note the changes ordered in their 
 respective routes, pay for the number of papers they will require on 
 the following morning, and receive a ticket entitling tliem to receive 
 the designated number. Tiie number of papers distributed by one 
 carrier varies from two hundred and fifty to five hundred. Some 
 of the carriers, however, are assisted by boys As a carrier gains 
 a weekly profit of three cents on each subscriber, one who delivers 
 five hundred papers has an income of fifteen dollars a week ; and it 
 is well earned. Most of the small news-men in town, country, and 
 railroad-car, are supplied with their papers by a wholesale firm, who 
 deliver them at a slight increase of price over the first cost. The 
 firm alhided to purchases from four to five thousand copies of the 
 Tribune every morning. 
 
 By five o'clock, usually, the morning edition has been printed 
 off, the carriers supplied, the early mail dispatched, and the bundles 
 
THE CAKUIERS. 411 
 
 for adjacont towns made up. Again there is a lull in the aciivil}' 
 of tiie Tribune building, and, sleepily, we bend our steps homeward. 
 
 There is sometliiiiir extremely pleasing in tlie sjjcctaele afforded 
 by a lar^e number of strong men co-operating in cheerful activity, 
 by which they at once secure their own career, and render an im- 
 portant service to the public. Such a spectacle the Tribune build- 
 ing presents. At present men show to best advantage when they 
 ai'e at work; we have not yet learned to sport with grace and un- 
 mixed benefit; and still further are we from that stage of develop- 
 ment Avhere work and play become one. But the Tribune building 
 is a very cheerful place. No one is oppressed or degraded ; and, 
 by the minute subdivision of labor in all departments, there is sel- 
 dom any occasion for hurry or excessive exertion. The distinctions 
 W'bich there exist between one man and another, are not artificial, 
 but natural and necessary ; foreman and editor, oflice-boy atid head 
 clerk, if they converse together at all, converse as friends and 
 equals; and the posts of honor are posts of honor, only because they 
 are posts of ditliculty. In a word, the republicanism of the Con- 
 tinent has come to a focus at the corner of Nassau and Spruce- 
 streets. There it has its nearest approach to practical realization ; 
 thence proceeds its strongest expression. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 HORACE GREELEY IN A FRENCH PRISON. 
 
 Voyage to Europe — Visit to the exhibition — At the tomb of Napoleon — Two days in the 
 debtors' prison — In London again — Commenta of the editor on men and things. 
 
 In the year 1855, which was that of the first Paris Exhibition, 
 Mr. Greeley again enjoyed a few weeks' hohday in Europe. The 
 voyage, however, was anything but enjoyment. " I have expressed," 
 lie says, " my own opinion of the sea and its behavior before, and 
 do not care to reiterate it. I sufl'ered far less intensely this time, 
 and gratefully acknowledge the kind Providence which preserved 
 us from the perils and afflictions by which others have been visited 
 But to me ' a hfe on the ocean wave ' is still surcharged with misery, 
 and a steamship on rocking billows the most intolerable prison 
 wherewith man's follies or sins are visited. I think I coyld just 
 endure the compound stench of grease and steam wliich ' ascend- 
 eth for ever and ever ' on board these fire-ships ; I might even bear 
 the addition to my agonies which the damp, chilly breeze (when it 
 happens not to be a gale) never fails to induce; I might come in 
 time to grapple with and throttle the demon Sea-sickness, remorse- 
 less as he is ; but when to these are added the fumes arising from 
 the incessant cookery required for tliree or four hundred human 
 beings, all huddled within a space two hundred feet long by some 
 twenty-five wide, I am compelled to surrender. There certainly 
 can be fabricated nowhere else on earth a jumble of smells so in- 
 tolerably nauseous and sickening." 
 
 In liis first letter to the Tribune, from which the above is taken, 
 he gives some particulars of the voyage which are interesting : — 
 
 THK ROUTINE ON SHIPBOARD. 
 
 " The day opens at this season about sunrise with a concert of 
 scrubbing implements on the decks, and the first passengers who 
 rise find the sailors still intent on the purifying process. Occasion- 
 ally brass hand-raihngs, &c., are rubbed, and no pains spared gen- 
 
THE ROUTINE OX SIIIPROARD. 413 
 
 erally to keep the vessel as clean as possible. One by one, the 
 passengers stumble up from their state-rooms, and gather for 
 warmth around the great smoke-pipe amidships, or begin walk- 
 ing back and forth the hurricane or quarter-deck. When the 
 wind is very high, or the spray particularly searching, this is 
 abandoned for one or both of the open passages on the main deck, 
 on either side of the dining-room ; when the rain pours fiercely, all 
 out-door walking is forborne, or only prosecuted by the stubborn 
 under the protection of an umbrella. A loud bell at eight sum- 
 mons the sluggish to prepare for breakfast, wliich is served half an 
 hour later ; from one tlyrd to two thirds of the passengers, accord- 
 ing to the state of the weather and the waves, entering an appear- 
 ance at the breakfast-table. Some of the residue are served in 
 their berths ; some have a plate on deck ; other some are too sick 
 to eat at all. 
 
 " From breakfast, the active adjourn to the decks, there to resume 
 the monotonous tramp, tramp, or gatlier in knots around the great 
 chimney, where heat is ever abundant; many go forward to smoke, 
 and some, alas ! smoke without going forward, to the aggravated 
 discomposure of uneasy stomachs ; for the sick are crouching in 
 corners, or lounging on sette6s, or propped up by the railing in 
 front of cushions, or trying to walk by the help of a friendly arm, 
 or attempting any other dodge Avhich promises alleviation, if not 
 temporary oblivion, of their woes. A few try to read ; still fewer 
 to write ; but neither of these employments can be recommended 
 to the sick, and they do not seem to recommend themselves very 
 strongly to the great body of the well. As soon as the tables are 
 partly cleared, some of the more inveterate card-players recom- 
 mence their various games ; two or three pairs sit down to chess, 
 drafts, or backgammon. Noon brings luncheon, which accommo- 
 dates a class who do not rise in season for breakfast ; four o'clock 
 summons to dinner, over which the com.fortable manage to kill an 
 hour or more, not ineffectively ; next follows the more general par- 
 ade and promenade on the upper deck, which the quaUty now con- 
 descend to honor by their patronage and co-operation ; and at half 
 past seven the bell sounds for tea, and thus the evening is fairly 
 begun. 
 
 Tea being speedily despatched and the tables cleared, a goodly 
 company gather in the dining-saloon, and sit down to cheerfal 
 
414 HORACE GREELEY IN A FRENCH PRISON. 
 
 conversation, to the various sedentary games, to reading, &:c. The 
 number of whist-players is very much larger than by day, for the 
 salt spray and damp night-winds on decks are neither pleasant 
 nor wholesome. Thus acquaintances are formed or ripened, sym- 
 pathies developed, and day after day sees the ice which had sepa- 
 rated the company of recent strangers gradually dissolving and dis- 
 appearing. By nine o'clock the more hardy or reckless begin to 
 order supper, — usually a Welsh rabbit (melted cheese on toasted 
 bread), eggs, and toast, a grilled fowl, pickled salmon, or something 
 of the kind. Lest such a refection late at night might over-tax 
 the stomach, it is usual to wash it down with a tumbler of hot 
 whiskey punch, a glass of cherry bounce, brandy and water, a 
 tjimbler or two of champagne, a bottle of ale, or something of the 
 sort. I was a little surprised to see delicate ladies, who had clung 
 to their berths through the first two or three days of the voyage, 
 soon after take their places at the evening table and partake freely 
 of the edibles and potables above named. When they appeared 
 next day, — which was not tiU long after breakfast had vanished, 
 — I inquired anxiously the state of their health respectively, and 
 was assured that it had been sensibly improved by the . rabbits 
 and punches aforesaid. On the third morning of my inquiries, 
 however, I was informed by a candid male friend, who had freely 
 indulged with the rest, that he had not slept weU the last night; 
 ' The rabbit kicked me,' was his way of stating the fact and hint- 
 ing the cause. Others were not all so candid ; but suppers and 
 grog were not half so popular toward the end of the voyage as 
 they were at the beginning." 
 
 SUNDAY AT SEA. 
 
 "I Uked to hear the tieU ring for worship on Sunday morning, and 
 aU the seamen not on duty thereupon march in, in their clean, 
 smart blue jackets, prayer-b«ok in hand, and take their seats in 
 the dining-saloon. Soon the passengers also were assembled, and 
 the captain read appropriately the morning service of the Church 
 of England, a majority of the assemblage uniting in the responses 
 audibly, and nearly all, I presume, in spirit. Then a Presbyterian 
 clergyman, who was one of the passengers, preached an oif-hand 
 sermon with great energy and zeal, commencing and closing with 
 prayer. I think a liturgy never commends itself more forcibly 
 
MR GREELEY IS SHAVED. 415 
 
 than on such occasions as this ; and I would suggest that each de- 
 nomination should provide itself with complete forms of worship, 
 with a view to their use by gatherings of lay members when no 
 clergyman or other extempore leader of worship may be present. 
 
 " The next evening we were favored with a discourse by (I should 
 rather say through) a lady passenger, somewhat famous among 
 Spirituahsts as a ' medium ' for this sort of communications. I 
 feel much obhged to her for so readily and freely enabling us to lis- 
 ten to this sort of teaching ; but my gratitude by no means extends 
 to the ' spirits,' who gave us a poor, rambling, incoherent discourse, 
 which seemed to me byt a dilution of some of the poorest plati- 
 tudes of Jackson Davis, — a weak sherry-cobbler, compounded 
 from ' The Vestiges of Creation,' ' Nature's Divine Revelations,' and 
 the most rarefied yet non-huninous fog of modern Pantheism. 
 Withal, the manner was that of our very worst Fourth-of-July 
 orators, — which I do intensely abominate, — and the diction full 
 of forty-eight-pounders mounted on very rickety pig-pens. I am 
 sure the lady would have done much better if she had exorcised 
 the spirits, and just given us a discourse in her own natural man- 
 ner, and out of her own head. If she ever consents to speak again, 
 I hope she will profit by this suggestion." 
 
 MR. GREELEY IS SHAVED. 
 
 " I got one extra glimpse of sea-life by reason of the lack of a 
 barber on the Asia in common Avith all the Cunarders. Unschooled 
 in the art tonsorial, I had gone unshaved more than a week, and 
 met the remonstrances of friends with a simple averment that what 
 they urged was impossible. In this I was at length overheard by 
 a seaman on deck, who interpleaded that if I would follow him I 
 should be speedily and satisfactorily rendei;(ed beardless. I could 
 hardly back out ; so I followed him into the ship's forecastle, took 
 my seat on a rough bench without a back, whereupon a rougher 
 tar, with an instrument which he seems to have mistaken for a 
 razor, performed the operation required, and pocketed a quarter 
 therefor without grumbling. I did not offer him more, for my face 
 was smarting at the time ; but the sights and smells of that fore- 
 castle were richly worth a dollar. When we consider that there, 
 in a space not cubically larger than two average prison-cells, some 
 thirty or forty men hve and sleep, without a crevice for ventilation, 
 
416 HORACE GREELEY IX A FREXCH PRISOX. 
 
 and in a reek of foul eflluvia so dense as to defy description, how 
 can we wonder that sailors often act like beasts on shore if they 
 are forced to live so like beasts on water ? Ah, Messrs. ^Merchant 
 Princes of New York ! before you waste one more dollar on at- 
 tempts to improve the moral and religious condition of seamen, be 
 entreated to secure them a chance to breathe pure air on board 
 your own vessels, — to sleep at least as healthfull}'' and decently as 
 your hogs ! Until you do this, preaching to them, scattering tracts 
 and Bibles among them, and even building sailors' homes for them 
 on land, — though all excellent in their time and jtlace, — will be 
 •just so much cash and effort thrown away." 
 
 Upon his arrival in Paris he entered upon the laborious duty of 
 sight-seeing with his usual vigor, and daily related his experien- 
 ces to the readers of the Tribune with characteristic comments. 
 One or two passages from his letters may detain the reader for a 
 moment. The following remarks are almost as applicable to the 
 present moment as they were to the state of things in 1855 : — 
 
 WILL THE EMPIRE LAST ? 
 
 " I meet no one who believes it will survive the present Emperor, 
 but very many who think it will last as long as he does. While 
 no one speaks of his patriotism or disinterestedness, even by way 
 of joke, there is a very general trust in his ability and confidence 
 in his indefatigable energy. He is probably the most active, untir- 
 ing ruler now living, and in this respect at least reminds the French 
 of ' Napoleon le Grand.' lie has, besides, the undoubted courage, 
 inscrutable purpose, and unwavering ftiith in his ' star,' Avhich befit 
 the heir of the first Bonaparte. He is, moreover, the only focus 
 around which all the ajati-Eepublican forces and interests in France 
 can for the present be rahied. The priests do not imagine him de- 
 vout nor sincerely attached to their fortunes, but they say, ' What 
 matter, so long as he does our work ? ' The Legitimists and Or- 
 leanists (the former comprising nearly all the remains of the wool 
 or land-owning aristocracy, the latter including many of the master 
 manufacturers, contractors, thrifty traders, stock-jobbers, and lucky 
 parvenues generally) say : ' This cannot last ; but Avliile it does 
 last, it protects us from Jacobinism, from Socialism, from turbu- 
 lence, anarchy, and the guillotine ; so let it last so long as it will. 
 
nORACK GRKEI.EY AT TIIK TOMIJ OK XAPOLEOX. 417 
 
 Tlie more intelligent workmen, the ykiU'iil artificers, the thinkers, 
 the teaehers, the observing, aspiring youth, wlio are almost to a 
 man Kepublicans, say : ' This evidently cannfit last ; then why 
 plunge the nation into intestine convulsion and bloodshed, when 
 it is already groaning under the load of a distant, expensive, and 
 sanguinary foreign war ? ' And thus the general conviction that 
 the empire is but a state of transition serves to protect it from 
 present assault and immediate danger." 
 
 THE EXHIBITION. 
 
 "I bid adieu to the "World's Exhibition of 185") in the conviction 
 that 1 have not half seen it, and that nine tenths of its visitors are 
 even more ignorant of its contents than I am. Its immensity tends 
 to confuse and bewilder ; the eye glances rapidly from one brilliant 
 object to another, while the mind fixes steadily upon none ; so that 
 lie who wanders, fitfully gazing from court to court, from gallery to 
 gallery, may carry away nothing positive but a headache. You 
 will see hundreds jostling and crowding for a peep at the Imperial 
 diainond.s, crowns, &c., which are said to have cost several millions 
 of dollars, (by whom earned ? how taken from tlicm ?) where a 
 dozen can with dilRculty be collected to witness the operation of a 
 new machine calculated to confer signal benefits on the whole civ- 
 ilized world. Who looks at the self-adjusting windmill, which 
 was first exhibited in our country last year? Yet that, if it prove 
 what it promises, will do mankind more service than all the dia- 
 monds ever diverted from their legitimate office of glass-cutting to 
 lend a false, deceitful glitter to the brows of Tyranny and Crime. 
 Here is a poor French artisan with a very simple contrivance for 
 taking -the long, coarse hairs from rabbit-skins, leaving the fine, 
 soft fur to be removed by itself, — the in;jchine possibly costing 
 twenty francs, and the dressing therewith of each skin hardly a 
 cent, while the value of the fur is thereby doubled. This is a 
 very small matter, which hardly any one regards ; yet it is proba- 
 bly worth to Europe more than the annual cost of eitlier of its 
 royal families, or twenty times the value of them all." 
 
 HORACE GREELEY AT THE TOMB OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 "The Invalides is a great establishment, erected in the southwest 
 quarter of Paris by Louis XIV., as a hospital or home for maimed, 
 18* AA 
 
418 HORACE GREELEY IN A FKEXCII PRISON. 
 
 disabled, or worn-out soldiers, — the surviving victims of the bloody 
 phantom, Glory. It has accommodations for some five thousand, 
 though I believe a smaller number are now quartered there, — 
 some three thousand only ; Ijiit the war with Russia will doubt- 
 less create a speedy demand for all its accommodations, as in the 
 days of Napoleon I. Here the still surviving wrecks and relics of 
 bygone wars doze out their remnant of existence, being frugally 
 fed and lodged at the expense of the nation for whose supposed 
 safety, interest, or honor they have risked their lives, shed their 
 blood, and often lost their limbs. The arrangements for their sub- 
 sistence and comfort are very systematic and thorough ; their food 
 and lodging are of better quality and better ordered than those of 
 the peasantry in their humble homes ; they have a fine church in 
 one end of the great quadrangular building which forms their 
 ' hotel,' Avith no lack of priestly ministrations. Their church is 
 decorated rather than enriched with many pictures ; yet there 
 is one painting on glass representing the Dead Christ which may 
 not be approved by critics, but which fixed my attention more 
 than any other work of art I have seen in Paris. Though you 
 know what it is, you cannot dispel the impression that you are 
 looking through a glass case or coffin, and gazing on an actual 
 corpse or waxen model of it lying cold and stark therein. The 
 illusion is so perfect as to be painful, and therein, if anywhere, is 
 its fault. 
 
 " Opposite the entrance of this church (which is still hung with 
 foreign flags, the trophies of French victories, though the twenty- 
 five hundred such which formerly decorated it were burnt by Jo- 
 seph Bonaparte's order the night before the capture of Paris by the 
 Allies in 18-14) rises the grand altar, resplendent in gold, and 
 lighted by side-windows with such art that, even in a dark, rainy 
 day, the whole seems to bask and blaze in the richest sunlight ; 
 and behind this, in what would seem to be an extension of the 
 church, is the Tomb of Napoleon I. Though you are within a 
 few feet of this structure when near the grand altar in the church, 
 you are compelled to go half a mile around to enter it ; and I am 
 not quite sure that the journey is repaid to those whose admira- 
 tion of military or other despots is not stronger than mine. Here 
 marble and porphyry, painting and sculpture, gilding and mosaic, 
 have been lavished without stint, and some two millions of dollars 
 
THE FREXCir SUNDAY. 419 
 
 wrested from the scanty earnings of an overtaxed peasantry to 
 honor the bones of him who while hving was so prodigal alike of 
 their treasure and their blood. The author of this squandering 
 idolatry was Louis Philippe, who thought he was ingratiating 
 himself with the French people by pandering to the worship of 
 the military Juggernaut, and whose family now live, as he himself 
 died, in exile and humiliation, while the vast estates ho left them 
 have been seized and confiscated by the nephew and heir of the 
 Corsican he thus helped to deify. Who can pity the schemer thus 
 caught in his own snare ? Who can marvel that France, not yet 
 fully cured of that passion for glory which exults over a victory 
 because our side has won, and not because the universal sway of 
 justice and equity has been brought nearer thereby, should find 
 herself ground under the heel of a fresh despot, who tears her 
 youth from their beloved homes and useful labors to swell the un- 
 ripe harvest of death on the battle-field ? I forget the name of 
 the French Democrat who observed that his country could never 
 enjoy true liberty until the ashes of Napoleon shall be torn from 
 this costly mausoleum and thrown into the Seine, but I fully con- 
 cur in his opinion." 
 
 THE FRENCH SUNDAY. 
 
 " I am no formalist, and would not have Sunday kept absolutely 
 sacred from labor and recreations with all the strictness enjoined 
 in the Mosaic ritual ; I believe the cramped and weary toiler 
 through six days of each week may better walk or ride out with 
 his children and breathe fresh, pure air on Sunday than not at all ; 
 yet this French use of the Christian Sabbath as a mere fete day, or 
 holiday, impresses me very unfavorably. Half the stores are open 
 on that day ; men are cutting stone and doing all manner of work 
 as on other days ; the journals are published, offices open, business 
 transacted ; only there is more hilarity, more dancing, more drink- 
 ing, more theatre-going, more dissipation, than on any other day 
 of the week. I suspect that Labor gets no more pay in the long 
 run for seven days' work per week than it would for six, and that 
 Morality suffers, and Philanthropy is more languid than it would 
 be if one day in each week were generally Avelcomed as a day of 
 rest and worship." 
 
420 HORACE GRERT.EY IN A FRENCH PRISON. 
 
 FRENCH AGKICULTURE. 
 
 " A Yankee here lately said to a Frenchman : ' I am amazed that 
 your people continue to cut grass with that short, clumsy, wide- 
 bladed, straight-handled, eleventh-century implement, when we in 
 America have scythes scarcely dearer which cut twice as fast.' 
 ' Why, you see,' responded Monsieur, ' while j'ou have less labor 
 than you need, we have tar more ; so that Avhile it is your study 
 to economize human exertion, it is ours to find employment for 
 our surplus. We have probably twice as many laborers as we 
 need.' ' Then,' persisted Jonathan, ' your true course Avould seem 
 to be to break your scythes in tAVo and work them at half their 
 present length, thus adjusting your implements to your work, 
 since you are confessedly unable to find work enough for your la- 
 borers, even Avith the wretched implements you now use.' Mon- 
 sieur did not see the matter in this light, and the stream of conver- 
 sation flowed into another channel. 
 
 "Now, while otherwise sensible Frenchmen actually believe that 
 labor is here in excess, there is at this hour a pressing need of all the 
 surplus labor of France for the next forty years to be absorbed in 
 the proper drainage of her soil alone. For Avant of this, whole 
 districts are submerged or turned to marsh for three or four months 
 between November and April, obstructing labor, loading the air 
 with unwholesome humidity, and subjecting the peasantry to 
 fevers and other diseases. Thorough draining alone would im- 
 mensely increase the annual product, the wealth, and ultimately, 
 by promoting health and diffusing plenty, even the population of 
 France. 
 
 " So with regard to ploughing. It is not quite so bad here as in 
 Spain, where a friend this season saw peasants ploughing with an 
 implement composed of two clumsy sticks of wood, one of which 
 (the horizontal) worked its Avay through the earth after the man- 
 ner of a hog's snout, while the other, inserted in the former at a 
 convenient angle, served as a handle, being guided by the plough- 
 man's left hand, while he managed the team with his right. With 
 this relic of the good old days the peasant may have annoyed and 
 irritated a rood of ground per day to the depth of thi-ee inches ; 
 and, as care is taken not to afflict in this fashion any field that can- 
 not be irrigated, he may possibly, by the conjunction of good luck 
 
FKENCn AGRICULTURK. 421 
 
 witli laborious culture, obtain half a crop. It is a safe guess that 
 this cultivator, living the year round on black bread moistened with 
 weak vinegar or rancid oil, because unable to live better, cherishes 
 a supreme contempt I'or all such quackery and humbug as book- 
 farming. 
 
 " France has naturally a magnificent soil. I ])reR'r it, all things 
 considered, to that of our own Western States. We have much 
 land that is richer at the outset, but very litile that will hold its 
 own in defiance ol' maltreatment so well as this docs, l^ime 
 abounds here in every form, — the railroads are often cut through 
 hills of loose chalk, — and very much of the subsoil in this vicinity 
 appears to be a rotten limestone or gypsum, but is said to lie a ma- 
 rine deposit, proved such by the infinity of shells therein imbed- 
 ded. There is not a particle of stone in the surface soil ; the rotten 
 pj*psum is, lor the most part, easily traversed by the plough, though 
 at a depth of ten to twenty feet the same original formation may 
 be found hard enough to quai'ry into building-stone. To re-enforce 
 such a soil, after the exhaustion produced by a hundred grain-crops 
 in succession, it is only requisite to run the plough two inches deeper 
 than it has hither gone, — a process urgently desirable on other 
 grounds than this. I never before observed land so thoroughly 
 fortified against the destructive tendentnes of human ignorance, 
 indoleiTce, and folly. Then the ,guunuer of France, as compared 
 with ours, is cool and humid, exposing grain-crops to fewer dan- 
 gers of smut, rust, &c., and breeding far fewer insects than does 
 ours. (0 that there were some power in America adequate and 
 resolved to protect those best friends of farmers — the birds — 
 against the murderous instincts of every yoimg ruffian who can 
 shoulder a nmsket !) I have seldom seen finer wheat than grows 
 profusely around Paris, and I think this region ought to average 
 more bushels to the acre, in the course of a century, than any part 
 of the United States. 
 
 "But French genius and talent do not tend to the soil. I must 
 have already observed that the ' Imperial School of Agriculture ' 
 at Grignon, though twenty-eight years old, with 1,100 acres of 
 capital land, a choice stock, and well-adapted buildings, enters on 
 its twenty-eighth year with barely seventy pupils. A kindi'cd tes- 
 timony is wafted from a ' Reform School ' in .the western part of 
 the country. To this school young reprobates are sent from the 
 
422 HORACE GREELET IN A FRENCH PRISON. 
 
 adjacent cities, and made adepts in agriculture as a just punish- 
 ment for their sins ; and its last official report boasts that the school 
 has been conducted with such wisdom and success that over half 
 of its graduates have enlisted in the army I There 's a climax for 
 you ! " 
 
 While he was engaged in visiting the interesting objects of the 
 French metropolis, he had the novel experience of being arrested 
 for debt, and a debt which he had never contracted. Mr. Grreeley 
 has related this adventure at length, and in his own way. The 
 following is his narrative : — 
 
 THE ARREST. 
 
 " I had been looking at things if not into them for a good many j^ears prior 
 to yesterday. I had climbed mountains and descended into mines, had groped 
 in caves and scaled precipices, seen Venice and Cincinnati, Dublin and Min- 
 eral Point, Niagara and St. Gothard, and really supposed I was approximating 
 a middling outside knowledge of things in general. I had been chosen de- 
 fendant in several libel suits, and been flattered with the information that my 
 censures were deemed of more consequence than those of other people, and 
 should be paid for accordingly. I had been through twenty of our States, yet 
 never in a jail outside of New York, and over half Europe, yet never looked 
 into one. Here I had been seeing Paris for the last six weeks, visiting this 
 sight, then that, till there seemed little remaining worth looking at or after, — 
 yet I had never once thought of looking into a debtors' prison. I should 
 probably have gone away next week, as ignorant in that regard as I came, 
 when circumstances favored me most unexpectedly with an inside view of 
 this famous ' Maison de DiHention,' or Prison for Debtors, 70 Rue de Clichy. 
 I think what I have seen here, fairly told, must be instructive and interesting, 
 and I suppose others will tell the story if I do not, — and I don't know any 
 one whose opportunities will enable him to tell it so accurately as I can. So 
 here goes. 
 
 " But first let me explain and insist on the important distinction between in- 
 side and outside views of a prison. People fancy they have been in a prison 
 where they have by courtesy been inside of the gates; but that is properly 
 an outside view, — at best, the view accorded to an outsider. It gives you no 
 proper idea of the place at all, — no access to its penetralia. The difference 
 even between this outside and the proper inside view is very broad indeed. 
 The greenness of those who don't know how the world looks from the wrong 
 side of the gratings is pitiable. Yet how- many reflect on the disdain with 
 which the lion must regard the bumpkin who perverts his goadstick to the 
 ignoble use of stirring said lion up ! or how many suspect that the grin where- 
 with the baboon contemplates the Imman ape who with umbrella at arm's 
 
THE ARREST. 423 
 
 length is poking Jocko for his doxy's delectation, is one of contempt rather 
 than com])!acency ! Rely on it, the world seen here behind the gratings is 
 very ditVerent in aspect from that same world otherwise inspected. Others 
 maj' think so, — I know it. And this is how. 
 
 " I had been down at thfe Palace of Industry and returned to my lodgings, 
 when, a little before four o'clock yesterday afternoon, four strangers called for 
 me. By the help of my courier, 1 soon learned that they had a writ of arrest 
 for me at the suit or one Mons. Lechesne, sculptor, affirming that he sent a 
 statue to the New York Crystal Palace Exhibition, at or on the way to which 
 it had been broken, so that it could not be (at all events it had not been) re- 
 stored to him; wherefore he asked of me, as a director and representative of 
 the Crystal Palace Association, to pay him ' douze mille francs,' or $2,500. 
 Not happening to have the change, and no idea of paying this demand if I 
 had it, I could only signify those facts; whereupon they told me that I was 
 under arrest, and must go along, which I readily did. We drove circuitously 
 to the sculptor's residence at the other end of Paris, waited his convenience 
 for a long hulf-hour, and then went to the President Judge who had issued 
 the writ. I briefly explained to him my side of the case, when lie asked me 
 if I wished to give bail. I told him I would give good bail for my appearance 
 at court at any time, but that I knew no man in Paris whom I felt willing to 
 ask to become my security for the payment of so large a sum as S 2,500. 
 After a little parley I named Judge Piatt, United States Secretary of Legation, 
 as one who, I felt confident, would recognize for my appearance when wanted, 
 and this suggestion met with universal assent. Twice over I carefully ex- 
 plained that I preferred going to prison to asking any friend to give bail for 
 the payment in any case of this claim, and knew 1 was fully understood. So 
 we all, except the judge, drove off together to the Legation. 
 
 " There we found Judge P., who readily agreed to recognize as I required; 
 but now the plaintiff and his lawyer refused to accept him as security in any 
 way, alleging that he was privileged from arrest by his office. He offered to 
 give his check on Greene & Co., bankers, for the 12,000 francs in dispute as 
 securit}' for my appearance; but tliey would not have him in any shape. 
 While we were chaffering, Mr. Maunsell B. Field, United States Commissioner 
 in the French Exposition, came along, and offered to join 3Ir. Piatt in the 
 recognizance ; but nothing would do. Jlr. Field then oifered to raise the money 
 demanded; but I said, No, if the agreement before the judge was not ad- 
 hered to by the other side, I would give no bail whatever, but go to prison. 
 High words ensued, and the beginning of a scuffle, in the midst of which I, 
 half unconsciously, descended from the carriage. Of course I was ordered 
 back inslanter, and obeyed so soon as I understood the order, but we were all 
 by this time losing temper. As putting me in jail would simply secure my 
 forthcoming when wanted, and as I was ready to give any amount of security 
 for this, which the other side had once agreed to take, I thought they were 
 rather crowding matters in the course they were taking. So, as I was making 
 my friends too late for a pleasant dinner-party at Trois Freres, where I had 
 expected to join them, I closed the discussion by insisting that we should 
 drive olf. 
 
424 HORACE GREELEY IX A FRENCH PRISON. 
 
 " Crossing the Avenue Champs Elys^es the next moment, our horses strack. 
 another horse, took fright, and ran until reined up against a tree, disabhng the 
 concern. My cortege of officers got out ; I attempted to follow, but was 
 thrust back very roughly and held in with superfluous energy, since they had 
 had abundant opportunity to see that I had no idea of getting away from 
 them. 1 had in fact evinced ample determination to enjoy their delightful 
 society to the utmost. At last, they had to transfer me to another carriage, 
 but they made such a parade of it, and insisted on taking hold of me so 
 numerously and so fussily (this being just the most thronged and conspicuous 
 locality in Paris), that I came near losing my temper again. We got along, 
 however, and in due time arrived at this spacious, substantial, secure estab- 
 lishment. No. 70 Uue de Clichy. 
 
 " I was brought in through three or four heavy iron doors to the office of the 
 Governor, where I was properly received. Here I was told I must stay till 
 nine o'clock, since the President Judge had allowed me till that hour to find 
 bail. In vain 1 urged that I had refused to give bail, would give none, and 
 wanted to be shown to my cell, — 1 must stay here till nine o'clock. So I 
 ordered something for dinner, and amused myself by looking at the ball play, 
 &c., of the prisoners in the yard, to whose immunities I was not yet eligible, 
 but I had the privilege of looking in through the bai-red windows. The yard 
 is one of the best I have ever seen anywhere, has a good many trees and some 
 fiowers, and, as the wall is at least fifteen feet high, and another of twenty 
 surrounding it, with guards with loaded muskets always pacing between, I 
 should judge the danger of burglary or other annoyances from without very 
 moderate. 
 
 " My first visitor was Judge Mason, U. S. Embassador, accompanied by 
 Mr. Kirby, one of the attaches of the Embassy. Judge M. had heard of my 
 luck from the Legation, and was willing to serve me to any extent, and in any 
 manner. I was reminded by my position of the case of the prying Yankee who 
 imdertook to fish out a gratuitous opinion on a knotty point in a lawsuit in which 
 he was involved. ' Supposing,' said he to an eminent counsellor, you were in- 
 volved in such and such a difficulty, what would you doV ' 'Sir,' said the 
 counsellor with becoming gravity, 'I should take the very best legal advice I 
 could obtain.' 1 told Judge M. that I wanted neither money nor bail, but a 
 first-rate French lawyer, who could understand my statements in English, at 
 the very earliest moment. Judge M. left to call on Mr. James Munroe, banker, 
 and send me a lawyer as soon as could be. This was done, but it was eight 
 o'clock on Saturday night, before which hour at this season most eminent 
 Parisians have left for their country residences; and no lawyer of the proper 
 stamp and standing could then be or has yet been found. 
 
 THE INCARCEKATIOX. 
 
 "At the designated hour I was duly installed and admitted to all the privi- 
 leges of Clichy. By ten o'clock each of us lodgers had retired to our several 
 apartments (about eight feet by five), and an obliging functionary came around 
 
THE INCAKCKHATION. 425 
 
 aud locked out nil rnscuUy intruders. I don't think I cvor boforo slept in 
 a place so perfectly secure. At six this inorninc; this extra jjrotection was 
 withdniwn, aud each of us was thenceforth obliged to keep watch over his 
 own valuables. We uniformly keep good hours here in Cliciiy, which is what 
 not many large hotels in Paris can boast of. 
 
 " The bedroom appointments are not of a high order, as is reasonable, since 
 we are only charged for them four sous (cents) per night, washing extra. The 
 sheets are rather of a liickory order (mine were given me clean); the bed is 
 indilVerent, but I have slept on worse; the window lacks a curtain or blinds, 
 but iu its stead there are four strong upright iron bars, which are a perfect 
 safeguard against getting up in the night and pitching or falling out so as to 
 break your neck, as any one who went out would certainly do. (I am iu 
 the fifth or highest story.) Perhaps one of my i)redeeessors was a somnam- 
 bulist. I have two chairs (one less than I am entitled to), two little tables 
 (probably one of them extra, by some mistake), and a cupboard which may 
 once have been clean. The pint washbowl and half-pint pitcher, candles, 
 &c., I have ordered and pay for. 1 am a little ashamed to own that my 
 repose has been inditVorent; but then I never do sleep well in a strange 
 place. 
 
 " Descending to the conmion room on the lower lloor this morning, I find 
 there an American (from Boston), who has met me often and knew me at 
 once, though I could not have called him by name, lie seemed rather 
 amazed to meet me hero (I believe ho last before saw me at the Astor House), 
 but greeted me very cordially, and we ordered breakfast for both in my room. 
 It was not a sumptuous meal, but we enjoyed it. Kext he made me ac- 
 quainted with some other of our best fellow-lodgers, and four of us agreed to 
 dine together after business hours. Before breakfast, a friend from the outer 
 world (M. Vattemare) had found access to me, though the rules of the prison 
 allow no visitors till ten o'clock. I needed first of all lawyers, not yet pro- 
 curable; next law-books (American), which Mr. Vattemare knew just where 
 to lay his hands on. I had them all on hand and my citations looked up long 
 before I had any help to use them. lUit let my own affairs wait a little till I 
 dispense some of my gleanings in Clicliy. 
 
 " This is perhaps the only large dwelling-house in Paris where no one ever 
 suffers from hunger. Each person incarcerated is allowed a franc per day to 
 live on; if this is not forthcoming from his creditor, he is at once turned out 
 to pick up a living as he can. While he remains hero he must have his franc 
 per day, paid every third day. From this is deducted four sous per day for 
 his bedding, and one sou for his fire (in the kitchen), leaving him fifteen sous 
 net and cooking fire paid for. This will keep him in bread any how. But 
 there exists among the prisoners, and is always maintained, a ' Philanthropic 
 Society,' which, by cooking altogether and dividing into messes, is enabled 
 to give every subscriber to its articles a very fair dinner for sixteen sous 
 (eleven cents), and a scantier one for barely nine sous. He who has no friends 
 but the inevitable franc per day may still have a nine-sous dinner almost 
 every day and a sixteen-sous feast on Sunday, by living on bread and water 
 
426 HORACE GREELEY IX A FREXCII PRISOX. 
 
 or being so sick as not to need anything for a couple of days each week. I 
 regret to say that the high price of food of late has cramped the resources of 
 the ' Philanthropic Society,' so that it lias been obliged to appeal to the public 
 for aid. I trust it will not appeal in vain. It is an example of the advantage 
 of association, whose benefits no one will dispute. 
 
 " I never met a more friendly and social people than the inmates of Clichy. 
 Before 1 had been up two hours this morning, though most of them speak only 
 French and I but English, the outlines of my case were generally known, my 
 character and standing canvassed and dilated on, and I had a dozen fast friends 
 in another hour; had I been able to speak French, they would have been a 
 hundred. Of course, we are not all saints here, and make no pretensions to 
 bo; some of us are incorrigible spendthrifts, — desperately fast men, hurried 
 to ruin by association with still faster women, — probably some unlucky 
 rogues among us, and very likely a fool or two; though as a class I am sure 
 my associates will compare favorably in intelligence and intellect with so 
 many of the next men you meet on the Boulevards or in Broadway. Several of 
 them are men of decided ability and energy, — the temporary victims of other 
 men's rascality or their own over-sanguine enterprise, — sometimes of ship- 
 wreck, fire, or other unavoidable misfortune. A more hearty and kindly set 
 of men I never met in my life than are those who can speak English ; I have 
 acquired important help from three or four of them in cop3'ing and translating 
 papers; and never was I more zealously nor effectively aided than by these 
 acquaintances of to-day, to not one of whom would I dare to offer money for 
 the service. Where could I match this out of Clichy ? 
 
 " Let me be entirely candid. I say nothing of ' Liberty,' save to caution 
 outsiders in France to be equally modest, but ' Equality and Fraternity ' I 
 have found prevailing here more thoroughly than elsewhere in Europe. Still, 
 we have not realized the Social Millennium, even in Clichy. Some of us 
 were born to gain our living by the hardest and most meagrely rewarded labor^ 
 others to live idly and sumptuously on the earnings of others. Of course, 
 these vices of an irrational and decaying social state are not instantly eradi- 
 cated by our abrupt removal to this mansion. Some of us cook, while others 
 only know how to eat, and so require assistance in the preparation of our food, 
 as none is cooked or even provided for us, and our intercourse with the outei 
 world is subject to limitations. Those of us who lived generously aforetime, 
 and are in for gentlemanly sums, are verj' apt to have money which the luck- 
 less chaps who are in for a beggarly hundred francs or so, and have no fixed 
 income beyond the franc per day, are very glad to earn by doing us acts of 
 kindness. One of these attached himself to me immediately on my taking 
 possession of my apartment, and proceeded to make my bed, bring me basiu 
 and pitcher of water, matches, lights, &c., for which I expect to pay him, — 
 these articles being reckoned superfluities in Clichy. But no such aristocratic 
 distinction as master, no such degrading appellation as servant, is tolerated in 
 this community ; this philanthropic fellow-boarder is known to all as my 
 ' auxiliary.' Where has the stupid v.'orld outside known how to drape the 
 hard realities of life with fig-leaf so graceful as this? 
 
TIIF. IN'CARCF.RATION. 
 
 427 
 
 " So of all titubr .listinctions. We pretend to have al.jured titles of honor in 
 America nnd the only consequence is that everybody has a title, - either 
 Honorable, or General, or Colonel, or Reverend, or at the very least Lsquire. 
 But here in Clichy all such empty and absurd prefixes are absolutely un- 
 kDowii. - even names. Christian or family, are discar.led as useless, antiquated 
 lumber K verv lodRer is known by the number of his room only; mine is 
 139- and whenever a friend calls, a ' Commissionaire ' comes in innn the outer 
 apartments to the great hall sacred to our common use, and begins calling out, 
 'Cent-trentc-nenf (phonetically ' sent-tran-nuf), at the top of his voice, and 
 goes on veiling as he climbs, in the hope of finding or calling me short of 
 ascending to m v fifth-story sanctuary. To nine tenths of my comrades I am only 
 known as ' sanltran-nuf.' My auxiliary is No. 54, and when I need h.s aid I 
 go sin-inc ' Sankan-cat,' after the same fashion. Equality being thus rigidly 
 preservetF in spite of slight diversities of fortune, the jealousies, rivalries, and 
 heart-burninr^s which keep most of mankind in a ferment are here absolutely 
 unknown. 1 never before talked so much with so many people intimately 
 acquainted with each other without hearing something said or insinuated to 
 one another's prejudice ; here there is nothing of the sort. Some folks out- 
 side are here fitted with characters which they would hardly consider flatter- 
 incr-some laws and usages get the blessings they richly deserve, -but 
 among ourselves all is harmony and good-will. How would Meunce's, tho 
 Hotel de Villc, or even the Tuileries, like to compare notes with us on this 
 
 head? , 
 
 " Our social intercourse with outsiders is under most enlightened regula- 
 tions. A person calls who wishes to see one of us, and is thereupon admitted 
 through two or three doors, but not within several locks of us. Here he gives 
 his canl and pavs two sous to a Commissionaire to take it to No. -, of whom 
 the interview is" solicited. No. -being found, takes the card, scrutinizes it, 
 and if ho chooses to see the expected visitor, writes a request for his admission. 
 This is taken to a functionary, who grants the request, and the visitor is then 
 brought into a sort of neutral reception-room, outside of the prison proper, 
 but a good way inside of the hall wherein tho visitor has hitherto tarried. 
 But let the lodger say No, and the visitor must instantly walk out with a very 
 tall flea in his ear. So perfect an arrangement for keeping duns, bores (writ- 
 servers even), and all such enemies of human happiness at a distance is found 
 scarcely anywhere else, - at all events not in editors' rooms, I am sure of 
 that. 'But yesterday an old resident here, who ought to have been up to 
 the trap, was told that a man wished to see him a moment at the nearest 
 grate, and, being completclv off his guard, he went immediately down, with- 
 out observing or requiring the proper formalities, and was instantly served 
 with a fresh writ. ' Sir,' said he, with proper indignation, to the sneak of an 
 officer (who had doubtless made his way in hero by favor or bribery), 'if 
 vou ever serve me that trick again, you will go out of here half killed.' 
 However, he had mainlv his own folly to blame; he should have stood upon 
 his reserved rights, and bade the outsider send up his card like a gentleman, 
 if he aspired to a gentleman's society. 
 
428 nORACF GKKKLKY IX A FUKXCU miSOX. 
 
 " Aiul tills brings me to the visiting-room, whore I have seen very many 
 friends dnring the day, inchiding two United States Ministei-s, beside ahiiost 
 every one belonging to our Legation here, three bankers, and nearly all the 
 Americans 1 know in Paris, but not oive Krenoh lawyer of the standing re- 
 quired, lor it seems impi\<sible to find wie in I'aris to-day. This jvom can 
 hardly bo called a parlor, all things considered; but it has been crowded all 
 day (ten to six) with wives and temale friends visiting one or other of us 
 insiders, — perhaps it may be most accurately charjioterized as the kissing- 
 r(.x>m. 1 should like to speak of the phases of life here from hour to hour 
 presented, — of the demonstrations of fervent atfection, the anxious consola- 
 tions, the confidential whisperings, and the universal desire of each hasty 
 tete-a-tete to respect the sacredness of others' confidence, so that fifteen or 
 twenty couples convei-se here by the hour within a space thirty feet by 
 twenty, yet no one knows, because no one wishes to know, what any other 
 couple are saying. But I must hurry over all this, or nty letter will never 
 have an end. 
 
 " Formerly, Clichy was in bad repute on account of the fiicility wherewith 
 all manner of females called upon and mingled with the u»ale lodgers in the 
 iimer sanctum. All this, however, has been corrected; and no woman is now 
 admitted beyond the public kissing-room except on an express order fi\>m the 
 Prefecture of Police, which is only granted to the well-authenticated wife or 
 child of nn inmate. (The female prison is in an entirely separate wing of the 
 building.) The enforcement of this rule is most rigid; and, while I am not 
 inclined to be vainglorious, and do not doubt that other large domiciles in 
 Paris are models of propriety and virtue, yet this I do say, that the domestio 
 morals of Clichy may safely challenge a comparison with those of Paris 
 generally. 1 might put the case more strongly, but it is best to keep within 
 the truth. 
 
 " So with regard to liquor. They keep saying there is no Pruhibitory Law 
 in France ; but they mistake, it' Clichy is in France. No ardent spirits are 
 brought into this well-regulated establishment, unless for medical use, except 
 in express violation of law; and the search and seizure clauses here are a 
 great deal more rigorous and better enforced than in Jhiino. 1 know a little 
 is smuggled in notwithstanding, mainly by ofVicials, for money goes a great 
 way in France; but no woman comes in without being felt all over (by a 
 woman) for concealed bottles of liquor. There was a small flask on our 
 (private) dinner-table to-day of what was called brandy, and smelt like ft 
 compound of spirits of turpentine and diluted aqua-t'ortis (for adulteration 
 is a vice which prevails even here); but not a glass is now smnggletl in where 
 a gnllon used to come in boldly under the protection of law. Wine, being 
 here esteemed a necessary, is allowed in moderation ; no inmate to have more 
 than one bottle per day either of ten-sous or twenty-sous wine, according to 
 his taste or means, — no better and no more. I dcMi't defend the consistency 
 of these regulations; we do some things better in America than even in 
 Clichy; but here drunkenness is absolutely prevented and riotous living sup- 
 pressed by a sumptuary law far more stringent than any of our States ever 
 
TIIK TNCAUCKUATIOX. 429 
 
 tried. Anil, niiiid you, tliis is no criininnl prison, hut simply n liouso of deten- 
 tion for those who happen to iiiive less money tliiin others would like to ex- 
 tract from their pockets, many of whom do not pny simply because tiiey do 
 not owe. So, if nny one tells you njjain that I.iipior Prohibition is a Yankee 
 novelty, just ask liiin what he knows of Clichj'. 
 
 "I know that cookery is a point of honor with the French, and rightly, 
 for they approach it with the inspiration of j^enius. Sud am I to say that 1 
 find no |)roof of this eminence in Clichy, and am forced to the conclusion that 
 to bo in debt and unable to pay does not qmilify even a Frenchman in the culi- 
 nary art. .My a\i.xiliary doubtless does his best, but his resources are limited, 
 and fil'ty fellows dancing round one range, with only a few pots and kettles 
 among them, probably confuses liim. Even our dinner to-day (four of us — 
 two Yankees, an Knglish merchant, and an Italian banker — dined en J'amiUe 
 in No. 98), on what wo ordered from an out-door restaurant (such are tlio 
 prejudices of education and habit), and i)aid tifty sotis each for, did not 
 seem to be the thing. The gathering of knives, forks, spoons, bottles, &c., 
 from Nos. S2, 0:5, and 139, to set tho common table, was the freshest feature 
 of the s|)reail. 
 
 " The sitting was novertliolcss a pleasant one, and an Fnglishman joined 
 us after tlw cloth was (figuratively) removed, who was much tho cleverest 
 man of the party. This man's case is so instructive that 1 must make room 
 for it. lie has been everywhere and knows everything, bu-t is es|)ecially 
 strong in Chemistry and Metallurgy. A few weeks ago he was a coke-burner 
 at Kouen, doing an immense and profitable business, till a heavy debtor 
 failed, which frightened his partner into running oil" with all the cash of the 
 concern, and my fricml was compelled to stop payment. Ho called togetlior 
 the creditors, eighty in number (their banker alono was in for forty-five 
 thousand francs), and said, ' Here is my case; appoint your own receiver, con- 
 duct the business wisely, and all will be paid.' Every man at once assented, 
 and the concern was at once put in train of liquidation. But a discharged 
 employee of the concern, at this moment owing it fifteen thousand francs now 
 in judgment, said, ' Hero is my chance for revenge'; so he had my friend 
 arrested and put here as a foreign debtor, though he has been for years in 
 most CKtensivo business in France, and was, up to the date of his bankruptcy, 
 paying the govermnent fifteen hundred francs for ainmal license for the 
 privilege of employing several hundred Frenchmen in transforming valueless 
 peat into coke. He will get out by and by, and may prosecute his per- 
 secutor, but tho latter is utterly irresponsible; and meantime a most ex- 
 tensive business is being wound up at IJouen by a receiver, with the only 
 man qualified to oversee and direct tho all'air in close jail at I'aris. This 
 is but one case among many such. I always Inited antl condemned imprison- 
 ment for debt untainted by fraud, — above all, for suspicion of debt, —but I 
 never so well knew why 1 hated it as now. 
 
 "There are other cases and classes very diirorent from this, — gay lads, 
 who are working out debts which they never would have paid otherwise ; for 
 hero in Clichy every man actually adjudged guilty of indebtedness is sen- 
 
430 HORACE GREELEY IX A FREXCH PRISOX. 
 
 tenced to stay a certain term, in the discretion of the court, never more than 
 ten years. The creditors of some would lilce to coax tliem out to-morrow, but 
 they are not so soft as to go until tlie debt is worked out, — so far, that is, 
 that they can never again be imprisoned fur it. Tlie first question asked of 
 a new-comer is, ' Have you ever been liere before? ' and if lie answers, ' Yes,' 
 the books are consulted; and if this debt was charged against him, then he is 
 remorselessly turned into the street. No price would procure such a man a 
 night's lodging in Clichy. Some are here who say their lives were so tor- 
 mented by duns and writs, that they had a friendly creditor put them here 
 for safety from annoyance. And some of our humbler brethren, I am assured, 
 having been once here, and earned four or five francs a day as auxiliaries, with 
 cheap lodgings and a chance to forage off the plates of those they serve, ac- 
 tually get themselves put in because they can do so well nowhere else. A 
 few days since, an auxiliary, who had aided and trusted a hard-up English- 
 man forty-eight francs on honor (all debts contracted here are debts of honor 
 purely, and therefore are always paid), received a present of five hundred 
 francs from the grateful obligee, wheji, a few days after, he received ample 
 funds from his distant resources, paid everything, and went out with tlying 
 colors. 
 
 '' To return to my own matter: I have been all day convincing one party 
 of friends after another as they called, that I do not yet need their generous- 
 ly proffered mone}' or names, — that I will put up no security, and take no step 
 whatever, until I can consult a good French lawyer, see where I stand, and 
 get a judicial hearing if possible. I know the Judge did not mean nor ex- 
 pect that 1 should be sent here, when I left his presence last evening; I want 
 to be brought before him forthwith on a plea of urgency, which cannot so well 
 be made if I am at liberty. If he says that I am properly held in duress, then 
 bailing out will do little good ; for forty others all about me either have or 
 think they have claims against the Crystal Palace for the damage or non- 
 return of articles exhibited: if I am personally liable to these, all France be- 
 comes a prison to me. When I have proper legal advice 1 shall know what to 
 do; until then it is safest to do nothing. Even at the worst, I hate to have any 
 one put up 12,000 francs for me, as several are willing to do, until I am sure 
 there is no alternative. I have seen so much misciiief fromgoingsecurity, that 
 I dread to ask it when I can possibh' do without. ' Help one another' is a 
 good rule, but abominably abused. A man in trouble is too apt to fly at once 
 to his friends ; hence half a dozen get in where there need have been but one. 
 There is no greater device for multiplying misery than misused sympathy. 
 Better first see if you cannot shoulder your own pack. 
 
 "Out of Cliciiy, Monday eve, June 4, 1855. 
 " Things have worked to-day very much as I had hoped and calculated. 
 Friends had been active in quest of such lawyers as I needed, and two of the 
 right sort were with me at a seasonable hour this morning. At three o'clock 
 they had a hearing before the Judge, and we were all ready for it, thanks to 
 friends inside of the gratings as well as out. Judge Piatt's official certificate 
 
THE INXARCERATIOX. 431 
 
 as to the laws of our State governing tlie liability of corporators has been of 
 vital service to me; and when my Lawyers asked, ' Where is your evidence 
 that the effects of the New York Association are now in the hands of a 
 receiver ? ' I answered. ' The gentleman who was talking with me in the 
 visitors' room when you came in and took me away knows that perfectly; 
 perhaps he is still there-' I was at once sent for him, and found him there. 
 Thus all things conspired for good; and at four o'clock my lawyers and 
 friends came to Clichy to bid me walk out, without troubling my friends for 
 any security or deposit whatever. So I guess my last chance of ever learn- 
 ing French is gone by the board. 
 
 " Possibly I have given too much prominence to the brighter side of life in 
 Clichy, for that seemed most to need a discoverer; let me put a little shading 
 into the picture at the finish. There is a fair barber's shop in one cell in 
 Clichy which was yesterday in full operation; so, expecting to be called 
 personally before the Judge, and knowing that I must meet many friends, I 
 walked down stairs to be shaved, and was taken rather aback by the infor- 
 mation that the barber had been set at liberty last evening, and there was not 
 a man left in this whole concourse of practical ability to take his place. So 
 there are imperfections in the social machinery even in Clichy. Fourier was 
 right; it will take 1,728 persons (the cube of 12) to form a perfect Social 
 Phalanx; hence all attempts to do it with two hundred or less fail and must 
 fail. We had about 144 in Clichy this morning, — men of more than average 
 capacity; still there are hitches, as we have seen. I think I have learned 
 more there than in anj' two previous daj's of my life; I never was busier; and 
 yet I should feel that all over a week spent there would be a waste of time. 
 
 " Let me close by stating that arrangements were made at once for the 
 liberation of the only American I found or left there; the first, I believe, who 
 had been seen inside of the middle grating for months. For this he will be 
 mainly indebted to the generosity of Messrs. Greene & Co., bankers, but 
 others are willing to co-operate. I fear he might have stayed some time, had 
 not my position brought him into contact with men whom his pride would 
 not permit him to apply to, yet who will not let him stay there. I am well 
 assured that he comes out to-night." 
 
 This event, as the reader may infer from Mr. Greeley's narrative, 
 threw the Americans in Paris into a higli degree of excitement, and 
 there was manifested by all of them the utmost willingness to con- 
 tribute both money and service for his liberation. It was at first 
 supposed that the debt was only a pretext, and that the real mo- 
 tive was political. This, however, was not the case. Mr. Greeley 
 received particular attention from persons connected with the gov- 
 ernment with whom he came in contact. 
 
 " I left Paris," he says, " with a feeling that I had had quite enough 
 of it. Paris is a pleasant city for those to whom pleasure is the 
 
432 HORACE GREELEY IX A FREXCU PKISOX. 
 
 end of life ; but I, if exiled for five years to Europe, should be apt 
 to give two of tliem to the Bi-itish Isles, one each to Germany, 
 Switzerland, and Italy, and hardly a month to France, her capital 
 included. Life is here too superficial, too material, too egotistic. 
 I could not be content in a great city which neither has nor feels 
 the need of a Tabernacle or Exeter Hall. Vevay's and the Trois 
 Freres are well in their way, but no substitute for those. Paris is 
 the Paradise of Frenchmen, but my nature is not French, and 
 never can be. I found friends in the gay metropolis, and trust I 
 did not alienate any ; but I could make or strengthen attachments 
 faster almost anywhere else. And so, with some pleasant and 
 other less agreeable remembrances of the two months I had spent 
 there, and with grateful regard to those who had there proved 
 themselves friends indeed, it was wath a real sense of relief that I 
 saw Paris fade behind and the broad, green country open before 
 me, in the direction of Rouen, Dieppe, and the English Channel." 
 
 He felt for more at home in London. " London," he remarked, 
 "deepens its impression upon me with each visit; nay, I rarely 
 spend a day Avithin its vast circumference without increasing won- 
 der and admiration. It is the capital, if not of the civilized, cer- 
 tainly of the commercial world, civilized and otherwise. To her 
 wharves the raw produce of all climes and countries, to her vaults 
 the gold of California and Australia, to her cabinets the gems of 
 Golconda and Brazil, insensibly gravitate. From this mighty heart 
 radiate the main arteries of the Avorld's trade ; a great crash here 
 brings down leading and long-established houses in the South Pa- 
 cific or the Yellow Sea. I dropped in to-day on an old friend Avhom 
 I had known ten or fifteen years ago as a philosophic radical and 
 social reformer in America. I found him in a great sugar-house 
 under the shadow of the Bank, correcting a Price Current Avhich he 
 edits, having just made up a telegraphic despatch for his house's 
 correspondents in Bombay. I found him calm and wise as ever; 
 more practical, some would say, but still hopeful of the good time 
 coming ; he had been several years with that house, and he told 
 me his income was quite satisfactory, and that his eldest son was 
 doing very well in Australia. I came over from America with an 
 intelligent and excellent English family that had been several years 
 in Mexico, the husband and father managing a mine. They were 
 on a visit to their native land to say good by to a son and brother 
 
THE IXCARCKKATION. 433 
 
 in the army, who was ordered to the Crimea. By this time they 
 are probably ou- their return to Mexico for another four years' so- 
 journ. Their many heavy trunks were inscribed ' Maj. F , Lon- 
 don.' And so the great city is constantly sending forth her thou- 
 sands to every corner of the globe where goods may be sold, mines 
 profitably worked, products gathered up, settlements planted or 
 railroads constructed, — some of them to return after a season with 
 riches, or distinction, or competence, — others to fdl unmarked 
 graves on far-off, lonely shores, — but all to contribute to the 
 wealth and power of the world's commercial emporium. Among 
 
 our passengers out was Capt. B , a civil engineer, who had 
 
 been surveying for a railroad, somewhere down in Spanish Amer- 
 ica, and was returning with the result to his London employers. 
 
 ' Capt. B ,' asked a friend, casually, ' do you remain in England 
 
 some time ? or are you going off again ? ' 'I am going again,' 
 was his quiet reply; 'Imt I don't know till I reach London 
 whether I shall be employed in Brazil or in Asia Minor.' There 
 is much mistaken pride and false dignity in England ; but if a 
 Briton insists on being proud of London, I shall not quarrel with 
 him on that head." 
 
 Of the House of Commons he said : " Ou the whole, I judged 
 that the better order of speaking in the House of Commons sur- 
 passes that which may be heard in our House of Representatives, — 
 is more direct, substantial, and to the point, while the average abil- 
 ity evinced in the speaking here is quite below that manifested in 
 Congress. I had been misled into the notion that decided bores 
 are regularly coughed down when they undertake to enlighten the 
 House ; but I saw and heard half a dozen of them tiy it, and the 
 remedy was never once applied. Yet I cannot realize that the 
 provocation could well be greater." 
 
 The celebrated Cremorne Gardens appear to have rather puzzled 
 the American editor, as well they might. "I looked in," he says, 
 " with a friend one evening, and found some three thousand people 
 there, as many as six or eight hundred of them dancing at once 
 under the open sky, on a slightly raised floor surrounding the tall 
 stand or tower in which the musicians were seated. There were 
 not far from a thousand women present, most of them quite young, 
 and the majority manifestly already lost to virtue if not quite dead 
 to shame. What struck me with surprise was the fact that many 
 
 19 BB 
 
434 HORACE GREELEY IX A FRENCH PRISON. 
 
 obviously respectable and undepraved girls mingled and danced 
 in the throng, including mere children of ten or twelve years, 
 who could not fail speedily to comprehend the errand on which 
 the lost ones come hither. I had heard much of the decorous de- 
 pravity of the Parisian dancing-gardens, though I never visited 
 them ; here the decorum was dubious and the depravity unmistak- 
 able. The Enghsh are not skilful in varnishing vice, — at least, I 
 have seen no evidence of their tact in that line. I endured the 
 spectacle of men dancing with woinen when rather beery, and 
 smoking ; but at last the sight of a dark and by no means elegant 
 mulatto waltzing with a decent-looking white girl, while puffing 
 away at a rather bad cigar, proved too much for my Yankee prej- 
 udice and I started. In fact, it was about time, since it wanted but 
 a quarter to eleven, and my lodgings, though this side of the middle 
 of London, were some six miles distant. (The cabman charged for 
 seven.) Cremorne, however, appeared to be just warming up to 
 its evening's delectation." 
 
 Two days after this adventure he was at Liverpool, preparing to 
 embark for his native land, which he reached in safety after an 
 absence of about three months. 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 ASSAULTED IN WASHINGTON BY A MEMBER OF 
 CONGRESS. 
 
 The provocation— The assault— Why Mr. Greeley did not prosecute— The Tribune in- 
 dicted in Virginia— Correspondence on slavery— Slavery ex labor. 
 
 During the administrations of Franklin Pierce and James Bu- 
 chanan, when the controversy respecting slavery was approaching 
 a crisis, Mr. Grreeley spent much of his time in Washington, com- 
 menting for the Tribune upon the proceedings of Congress. While 
 performing this duty in January, 1856, he incurred the resentment 
 of Albert Rust, a member of Congress from Arkansas, by the fol- 
 lowing remarks upon the course of that member during the con- 
 test for the Speakership which resulted in the election of Mr. N. 
 P. Banks. The following were the offensive words : — 
 
 " I have had some acquaintance with human degradation ; yet it did seem to 
 me to-day that Rust's resohition in the House was a more discreditable propo- 
 sition than I had ever known gi-avely submitted to a legislative body. Just 
 consider the facts: Mr. Banks has for more tlian six weeks received the votes 
 of a very large plurality of the House, — never polling more than ten short of 
 a majority, usually only six or seven, and sometimes coming within two or 
 three. He has repeatedly tendered his declination to his friends, and they have 
 uniformly refused it, and placed him again in nomination. Last evening they 
 held another caucus, resolved to support him to the end, and resolved to hold 
 no more caucuses, lest their adversaries might be encouraged to hope that 
 they would change their candidate. Yet, in the face of this demonstration, 
 the two hostile minorities come into the house this morning and seriously at- 
 tempt to invite Mr. Banks to decline! for that is just what Rust's resolution 
 amounts to. It could not affect Ah'. Banks's rights nor those of his support- 
 ers; but it would seem to be an indignity, and might be expected to wound 
 his sensibilities. But Mr. Banks will never take counsel with his bitter 
 enemies as to the propriety of his withdrawal from the canvass." 
 
 This appeared in the Tribune of January 2G, 1856. A few 
 hours after the arrival of the paper in Washington Mr. Rust mani- 
 fested his indignation in the manner related by Mr. Greeley in the 
 following letter : — 
 
436 ASSAULTED BY A MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 
 
 " I have heard since I came here a good deal of the personal vio- 
 lence to which I was exposed, but only one man has oflered to 
 attack me until to-day, and he was so drunk that he made a poor 
 fist of it. In fact, I do not remember that any man ever seriously 
 attacked me till now. 
 
 " I was conversing with two gentlemen on my way down from 
 the Capitol, after the adjournment of the House this afternoon, 
 when a stranger requested a word with me. I stopped, and my 
 friends went on. The stranger, who appeared in the prime of 
 life, six feet high, and who must weigh over two hundred, thus 
 began : — 
 
 " ' Is your name Greeley ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes.' 
 
 " 'Are you a non-combatant?' 
 
 " ' That is according to circumstances.' 
 
 "The words were hardly out of my mouth when he struck me 
 a stunning blow on the right side of my head, and followed it by 
 two or three more, as rapidly as possible. My hands were still in 
 my great-coat pockets, for I had no idea that he was about to 
 strike. He staggered me against the fence of the walk from the 
 Capitol to the Avenue, but did not get me down. I rallied as soon 
 as possible, and saw him standing several feet from me, with several 
 persons standing or rushing in between us. I asked, ' Who is this 
 man? I don't know him,' and understood him to answer, with 
 an imprecation, 'You '11 know me soon enough,' or 'You '11 
 know me hereafter,' when he turned and went down toward the 
 street. No one answered my inquiry directly, but some friends 
 soon came up, who told me that my assailant was Albert Rust, M. 
 C. from Arkansas. He gave no hint of any cause or pretext he 
 may have had for this assault, but I must infer that it is to be found 
 in my strictures in Monday's Tribune (letter of Thursday evening 
 last) on his attempt to drive Mr. Banks out of the field as a candi- 
 date for Speaker, by passing a resolution inviting all the present 
 candidates to withdraw. I thought that a mean trick, and said so 
 most decidedly ; I certainly think no better of it, now that I have 
 made the acquaintance of its author. 
 
 " The bully turned and walked down along ; I followed, conversing 
 with two friends. Crossing Four-and-a-half Street, they dropped 
 behind to speak to acquaintances, and I, walking along toward the 
 
ASSAULTED BY A MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 437 
 
 National Hotel, soon found myself in the midst of a huddle of 
 strangers. One of these turned short upon me — I saw it was my 
 former assailant — and said, 'Do you know me now?' I answered, 
 'Yes; you are Rust of Arkansas.' lie said something of what 
 he would do if I were a combatant, and I replied that I claimed no 
 exemp.tion on that account. He now drew a heavy cane, which I 
 had not seen before, and struck a pretty heavy l)low at my head, 
 which I caught on my left arm, with no other damage than a 
 rather severe bruise. He was trying to strike again, and I was 
 endeavoring to close with him, when several persons rushed be- 
 tween and separated us. I did not strike him at all, nor lay a fin- 
 ger on him; but it certainly would have been a pleasure to me, 
 had I been able to perform the public duty of knocking him down. 
 I cannot mistake the movement of his hand on the Avenue, and 
 am sure it must have been toward a pistol in his belt. And the 
 crowd which surrounded us was nearly all Southern, as he doubt- 
 less knew before he renewed his attack on me 
 
 " I presume this is not the last outrage to which I am to be sub- 
 jected. I came here with a clear understanding that it was about 
 an even chance whether I should or should not be allowed to go 
 home alive; for my business here is to unmask hypocrisy, defeat 
 treachery, and rebuke meanness, and these are not dainty employ- 
 ments even in smoother times than ours. But I shall stay here 
 just so long as I think proper, using great plainness of speech, but 
 endeavoring to treat all men justly and faithfully. I may often 
 judge harshly, and even be mistaken as to facts, but I shall always 
 be ready to correct my mistakes and to amend my judgments. I 
 shall carry no weapons and engage in no brawls; but if ruflians 
 waylay and assail me, I shall certainly not run, and, so far as able, 
 I shall defend myself." 
 
 The editor of the Tribune, though severely bruised, was not in- 
 capacitated from continuing his editorial labors. Gentlemen who 
 called upon him that evening found him writing at his table as 
 usual, though with wet cloths bound round his head and arm. The 
 assault called forth indignant comments from the press ; but no one 
 so well expressed the sense of the country with regard to it as the 
 editor of the Albany Knickerbocker, who said: "The fellow who 
 would strike Horace Greeley would strike his mother." 
 
438 ASSAULTED BY A MEMBER OF C0XGRES3. 
 
 Mr. Greeley was censured by a portion of the public for not 
 prosecuting the drunken ruffian who committed this atrocity. He 
 gave his reasons for not seeking redress from the law. 
 
 " 1. I do not know this Mr. Rust. I had not the remotest idea 
 of his personal appearance up to the moment of his assault on me. 
 If he were in court, I think I could identify the man who assaulted 
 nie beyond doubt ; but if I were asked before a grand jury, ' How 
 do you know that the man who struck you was Albert Rust, M. C. 
 from Arkansas ? ' I could only answer, ' I was so informed by 
 those who witnessed the assault,' — and this of itself would not 
 be conclusive. I never saw my assailant in the House so as to 
 identify him, and he was never but once pointed out to me else- 
 where, and then he was walking from me. 
 
 " 2. The complaint against Mr. Rust did not originate with the 
 citizens or authorities of Washington. No witness of the assault 
 saw fit to make any. Nothing was done until, some two or three 
 weeks after the occurrence, a lawyer of this State went to Wash- 
 ington and made it. Had I appeared on this complaint as the prin- 
 cipal, if not sole witness in its support, I should have been sus- 
 pected of having instigated it. I did not choose to rest under that 
 imputation. When I see fit to complain of an attack upon me, I 
 shall seek no screen. 
 
 " 3. I do not choose to be. beaten for money, even though the 
 public is to pocket it ; and I know the sentiment of our Federal 
 metropolis too well to believe that an anti-slavery editor has any 
 chance of substantial justice there, m a prosecution against a 
 Southern member of Congress. If the price to be paid for beat- 
 ing me is ever to be legally fixed, I choose to have it assessed by 
 a Northern jury. 
 
 " 4. I have chosen to treat my assailant throughout in such man- 
 ner as to make him ashamed of his assault on me. In this I think 
 I have succeeded. For the credit of human nature, I will so be- 
 lieve." 
 
 In the same year, 185G, the Tribune had the honor to be indicted 
 in the State of Virginia, for advising negroes, as it was alleged, to 
 rise in rebellion against their masters. As a curious relic of that 
 bad time, I place this affair on record. In September, 1856, the 
 following letters Avere received at the Tribune office : — 
 
Tni: TumuxE indicted ix Virginia. 439 
 
 " Shinnston, Va., Sept. 26, 1856. 
 "Messrs. Greeley & McEi.ratii : — 
 
 "I regret to inform you that I am indicted for getting up a club for the 
 Tribune. Great God! has it come to this, that a man must be sent to the 
 penitentiary for reading a news^paper? The grand jury had one of the sub- 
 scribers brought before them with an armful of copies of the Tribune, and 
 they were distributed among them. They examined them a long time, and 
 ■were about giving it up that it would have to pass, when, lo mid behold! one 
 of them discovered an extract from the Pittsburg Dispatch, wliich gave an 
 account of the great negro liiint of Ross & Co., and on that they pronounced 
 it an Abolition document. The court ordered the jury to meet on Monday 
 next, to indict the postmaster at Shinnston. 
 
 " I discover that the law of Virginia makes my case felony. I may have to 
 flee, or serve a time in the Richmond Penitentiary. I would like to hear from 
 you, whether it is not legal for j-our paper to circulate in this State. I have 
 notified the court that, if they would show some lenity in my case if they 
 should decide the said paper to be illegal, I would discontinue my club. 
 
 " \V. P. Hall." 
 
 " To lite Editor of the N. Y. Tribune. 
 
 " Sik: — The grand jury for this county this week presented Horace Greelej' 
 of New York, Mr. Hall of Shinnston, and myself of this place, for circulating 
 the Tribune. You may make any use of this information you may desire. 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 "Ira Hart. 
 
 "Clarksburg, Harrison County, Va., Oct. 2, 1856." 
 
 The subscqvicnt proceedings were thus related in the Tribune: — 
 
 "Immediately upon the receipt of these letters answers were 
 addressed to the writers, expressing the readiness of the con- 
 ductors of the Tribune to do their part toward testing the law of 
 the case, and desiring copies of the indictments. To the letter 
 addressed to Mr. Hall no answer has arrived, and perhaps he never 
 received it. We are informed from another quarter that, shortly 
 after the finding of the indictment, being greatly alarmed at it, he 
 left home. In the mean while, however, it was discovered that the 
 grand jury by which the bills were found was illegal, one of its 
 members being disqualified to sit as a grand juror. As soon as this 
 discovery was made another jury was impanelled, which returned 
 the indictment, which we shall presently give, against Horace 
 Greeley, but omitted to find any against the two citizens of the 
 county who had been previously indicted. This, however, does 
 
440 THE TKIBXJXE IXDICTKD IX VIUGIXIA. 
 
 not appear to liave been through any disposition to give over the 
 persecution of the readers of the Tribvme, as ■will appear from the 
 following letter of Mr. Hall, addressed to us after his return 
 
 home : — 
 
 " Shinnston, Va., 20th Oct., 1856. 
 "'Messrs. Gkeeley & McElrath: — 
 
 "'Since I returned home, I find the storm ragina; as bad as ever ap;ainst me. 
 They say I shall stop the Tribune club, or they will bring my case up at 
 the next Grand .lury Court, and put me clear through. 
 
 '"I therefore request vou to stop the club. 
 
 "'\Vm. p. Hall. 
 " ' This from a friend.' 
 
 " So much for Shinnston. Mr. Hart, the other person indicted, a 
 resident in Clarksburg, in the same couijty, appears to be made of 
 somewhat sterner stuff. Some time since the i:)ostmaster at Clarks- 
 burg refused to deliver his paper, under pretence of a law of Vir- 
 ginia imposing a fine of $ 200 on any postmaster for delivering in- 
 cendiary mail matter. Mr. Hart thereupon applied to the Post- 
 master-'G-eneral, who, in performance of his duty, wrote to the 
 Clarksburg deputy that he must deliver. This caused a tremen- 
 dous stir among the magnates of Clarksburg, but the paper has 
 since been regularly delivered. The next move was to indict Mr. 
 Hart, as already mentioned ; but here too was a legal ditliculty, 
 which probably prevented the refinding of the indictment. The 
 offence, it seems, made felony by the statutes of Virginia, is not 
 having in poggession or reading incendiary documents, but circulat- 
 ing or carrying or procuring them to be circulated ; and as Mr. 
 Hart merely took his paper from the post-office and read it at 
 home, his case did not seem to come under that provision. The 
 evidence upon which the first indictment was found was, that he 
 had asked some of his neighbors to form a club with him for tak- 
 ing the Tribune ; but as no such club was actually formed, it was 
 plain that this evidence was not sufficient. 
 
 " We come now to the indictment actually found and now pend- 
 ing, which is in the words and figures following: — 
 
 "'Virginia, ss. 
 "' In the Circuit Court of Harrison County. 
 "'The grand jurors for said county, on their oaths, present that heretofore, 
 to wit, on the 5th day of July, in the year 1856, and from that day to the find- 
 ing of this presentment, Horace Greeley did write, print, and publish, and 
 cause to be written, printed, and published weekly, in the city of New York 
 
Tlir. TRinUNE INDICTED IN VJIMilNIA. 441 
 
 and State of New York, a book and writinf?, to wit, a newspaper and public 
 journal, styled and entitled New York Tribnne, tiie object and purpose of 
 ■which said New York Tribune was to advise and incite nen;roes in this State 
 to rebel and nnike insurrection, and to inculcate resistance to the rights of 
 property of inasti^rs in their slaves in the State of Virginia. 
 
 "'And the jurors do further present that the said Horace Greeley afterward, 
 to wit, on the 5th day of July, in the year 1S56, did knowingly, wilfully, and 
 feloniously transmit to, and circulate in, and cause and procure to bo trans- 
 mitted to and eiiculated in the said county of Harrison, the said book and 
 writing, to wit, the said New York Tribune, with the intent to aid purposes 
 thereof against the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth. 
 
 " 'And the jnrors aforesaid, upon the oaths aforesaid, do further present that 
 said Horace Greeley, on the day of July, in the year 185G, did knowingly, 
 unlawfully, and feloniously circulate and cause to be circulated in said county 
 of Harrison, a writing, to wit, ii newspaper and public journal, which said 
 writing, newspaper, and public journal, was on the 5th day of July, in the 
 year 1856, published, written, and printed in the city of New York, and State 
 of New York, and was styled and entitled New York 'Jribune, with intent 
 in him, the saiii Greeley, then and there to advise and incite negroes in the 
 State of Virginia aforesaid to rebel and make insurrection, and to inculcate 
 resistance to the rights of property of masters in their slaves, against the peace 
 and dignity of the Commonwealth. 
 
 "'Upon the information of Amaziah Hill and Seymour .Johnson, witnesses 
 sworn in open court, and sent to the grand jury to testify at the request of 
 the grand jury, who had the New York Tribune in the above presentment 
 referred to before them, and examined the same. 
 
 '"B. Wilson, 
 Atiorney for the Cummonwealth. 
 
 " Indorsed, ' State v. Horace Greeley. Presentment for felony. A true bill. 
 
 '"A. J. Gakrett, Foreman.''" 
 
 The Tribune favored its readers with a brief description of the 
 persons supposed to be chiefly instrumental in procuring this in- 
 dictment : — 
 
 " This Garrett, we understand, wlio indorses the indictment as 
 foreman, is a Baptist minister — we imagine of the liard-shell or- 
 der — who, having got some 'chattels' with his wife, feels him- 
 self quite an aristocrat, and by his insolent and overbearing de- 
 meanor has secured the hatred of all his neighbors, over whom in 
 his character of slaveholder he enjoys, however, the privilege of 
 domineering. John.son, one of the witnesses, we understand to be 
 a vagabond relation of the late Governor of Virginia of that name, 
 — one of those offshoots of the first families, too lazy and too 
 19* 
 
4i2 A COURESPOXDEXCE ON SLAVERY. 
 
 proud to work, but not too proud to sneak behind the waiter into 
 comphmentary dinners to his relative the Governor, into whieh he 
 could get admission in no other way." 
 
 The provocation to such assaults as these upon the Tribune and 
 its editor was simply the opposition of that newspaper to every 
 scheme devised by the Southern oligarchy to extend the area of 
 slavery. Upon looking over the Tribune of those "days, the reader 
 Avill find that the tone in which slavery was discussed was emi- 
 nently moderate. Nevertheless, it published hundreds of articles 
 most damaging to slavery, and did more than all other things to- 
 gether to create a party powerful enough to enter the Presidential 
 campaign with rational hopes of success. 
 
 From the mass of Mr. Greeley's more personal writings of that 
 period room can be found here for one or two specimens : — 
 
 "A CORRESPONDENCE ON SLAVERY. 
 
 " Horace Greeley, Esq. : — 
 
 "Dear Sir: — I live in a warm place for an Abolitionist, — for that is the 
 title you are known by here, — and we who take your paper have the same 
 application. 
 
 " Give us a short sketch — very plain — in regard to the abolition of slavery, 
 so that I may show my pro-slavery brethren your platform. 
 
 " Success to your paper ! 
 
 "Albany, Mo., January 18, 1859." 
 
 "REPLY. 
 
 " New York, Jan. 29, 1859. 
 
 " My Dear Sir : — I have yours of the 17th. You ask me why 
 the abolition of slavery is deemed desirable. I answer, very 
 briefly : — 
 
 " I. Because, in the order of nature, every adult human being has 
 a right to use his own God-given faculties — muscles, sinews, organs 
 — for the sustenance and comfort of himself and his family. Conse- 
 quently, it is wrong to divest him of the control of those capacities, 
 and render him helplessly subservient to the pleasure and aggran- 
 dizement of another. 
 
 " II. Because the mixture of whites and blacks in the same com- 
 
A coRni:sroxDi:xcE ox slavery. 443 
 
 munity, society, hcRiseliold, — an inevitable result of African slavery, 
 — is not favorable to the moral purity or social advancement of 
 either caste. Better let the two races form separate communities. 
 
 " III. Because the earth should be so cultivated, and the various 
 departments of industry so mixed and blended, that every year's 
 cultivation should increase, rather than diminish, the productive ca- 
 pacities of the soil. Slavery, by placing long distances between 
 those who pursue agriculture and manufactures respectively, for- 
 bids this. 
 
 "IV. Because the fullest cultivation of his intellect, through edu- 
 cation, reading, study, &c., is the right of every rational being. 
 In the Divine economy, this would seem one of the main rea- 
 sons for placing men on earth. Slavery is incompatible with such 
 cultivation, forbidding its subjects even to read or write. 
 
 " V. Slavery is palpably at war with the fundamental basis of our 
 government, — the inalienable rights of man. It is a chief obsta- 
 cle to the progress of republican institutions throughout the world. 
 It is a standing reproach to our country abroad. It is the cause 
 of exultation and joy on the side of the armed despots. It is worth 
 more to the Austrian and French tyrants than an additional army 
 of 100,000 men. 
 
 "VI. Slavery is the chief cause of dissension and hatred ^among 
 ourselves. It keeps us perpetually divided, jealous, hostile. If it 
 were abolished, we should never dream of fighting each other, nor 
 dissolving the Union. 
 
 " VII. Slavery powerfully aids to keep in power the most thor- 
 oughly unprincipled party, the most corrupt demagogues, that our 
 country has ever known. 
 
 " VIII. Slavery makes a few rich, but sinks the great mass, even 
 of the free, into indolence, depravity, and misery. It prevents the 
 accumulation of wealth. It renders land a drug, and keeps popu- 
 lation so sparse and scattered that common schools are for the 
 most part impossible. 
 
 " For these and other reasons, I am among those who labor and 
 
 hope for the early and complete abolition of human, but especially 
 
 of American slavery. " Yours, 
 
 "Horace Greeley. 
 
 "W. C. Co WAX, Esq., Albany, Gentry County, Mo." 
 
444 CORRESPONDENCE WITH A SI.AVEnOI.DER. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH A SLAVEHOLDER. 
 
 "IN\aTATION TO BUY A SLAVE. 
 
 " , Va., March 7, 1857. 
 
 "Mr. IIoracp: Gkkei.ey: — 
 
 "I offer no apology for this communication. You cKiim to be a philan- 
 thropist, and you are, notoriously, a champion of African slaves. I propose, 
 simply and in good faith, to afford you an opportunity of giving (to the world, 
 if you please) a practical illustration of the philanthropy you preach. 
 
 "I know a slave who is fit to bo free. He is intelligent, — able to read and 
 write and make up accounts in a small way, — is a good carpenter and 
 cabinet-maker, — an honest man and a consistent member of a Christian 
 church. For some years this slave hired himself, paid his owner a full 
 price for his time, laid up money, and bought his slave-wife and their 
 younger child^-en. Two of their older children are still slaves. 
 
 " The owner of this man has olYered to sell him to me, at the slave's request; 
 but I am not able to buy him, nor would I if I wore able. 
 
 " I suppose that $4,600 would buy the man and his two slave sons, and re- 
 move the family to a Free State. It has occurred to me that you may be 
 able, or may know. somebody who is able, to spare this sum of money for so 
 good a purpose. It Avould give me pleasure to aid in the matter, by pur- 
 chasing the slaves, emancipating them, and attending to their removal; and I 
 invite you to a correspondence on the subject. 
 
 " If yon want any knowledge of me you may refer to [here the writer inserts 
 the names of several well-known and distinguished persons, which we omit], 
 or anj' of the editors at Richmond. 
 
 "I can give you any desirable security for the faithful application of the 
 funds. 
 
 " I ought to have stated that these negroes are of nearly pure white blood, — 
 the wife a woman of excellent character, and the children handsome and 
 sprightly. 
 
 " I am, perhaps, as far from any sympathy with Abolitionists as j-ou are 
 from sympathy with slaveholders. I own slaves, and expect to own them 
 during my life. Knowing something of the matter by personal experience, I 
 am a better judge of it than you can be; and I take the opportunity of saying 
 to you, that you and your coadjutors are the worst enemies of the slave. 
 They are, by great odds, in a happier condition than your white slaves; but, 
 like all other human beings, may be made discontented with their lot. You 
 excite them to discontent, then to insubordination; and thus you make it 
 necessary for us to rule them more rigidly. Let us aloTie, Mr. Greeley. 
 
 " Why, then, j'ou may ask, do I care about emancipating this particular 
 family? I say, because they are almost white people; they are partly 
 educated, are industrious, moral, and Christian, and are Jilted for freedom. 
 
CORKESrONDENCK WITH A SLAVEHOLDER. 446 
 
 " I know luintlreds of slaves ; I do not know one dozen who are fit to be free. 
 I know scores of free negroes; but, with a verj- few exceptions, they are more 
 ignorant, immoral, and degraded tlian our slaves. 
 
 '' This letter is not for publication. 
 
 " Your obedient servant. 
 
 "REPLY. 
 
 " New York, March 11, 1857. 
 
 "My Dear Sir: — I have yours of the 7th inst., which com- 
 mences with a great mistake : ' You profess to be a philantliropist.' 
 I make no such profession, — very few professions of any kind. 
 The world judges me as it sees fit from my acts; I silently abide 
 its verdict. 
 
 " If I can only deserve the reputation of a philanthropist by buy- 
 ing out of slavery such negroes, ' almost white,' as the masters be- 
 lieve unfit to be longer slaves, then I have no desire to earn that 
 title. So far from inclining to buy them, I do not wish this par- 
 ticular class bought or otherwise emancipated, while the great mass 
 of their brethren remain in bondage. On the contrary, I wish them 
 to remain where they are, looking their white uncles and cousins 
 in the face, a perpetual reminder of the infernal system of which 
 they are victims, and of the iniquities which, even in the judg- 
 ment of slaveholders, may be and are perpetrated under it. No, 
 sir, I hate slavery too deeply to help drug the consciences of your 
 caste by buying out of slavery those whom even you say are fit no 
 longer to be bondmen. 
 
 " Your request to ' let you alone ' in the Slave States I shall duly 
 respect; I ask your members of Congress and Supreme Court 
 judges to do likewise by us. Your Nebraska bills and Dred Scott 
 decisions, forcing slavery upon the Free States in spite of them- 
 selves, are goading us beyond the point of peaceful endurance. 
 " Yours, 
 
 "Horace Greeley. 
 
 " To , Va. 
 
 " P. S. — I will print your letter, so that any one North or South, 
 who wishes to do what you ask of me, may have the opportu- 
 nity." 
 
4.46 SLAVERY AXD LABOR. 
 
 SLAVERY AND LABOR. 
 
 " A humble farmer's son, upon the granite hills of New England, 
 early impelled and inured to rugged and persistent toil, I learned 
 not merely to confront labor, but to respect it, and to recognize in 
 its stern exactions, its harsh discipline, one of the most precious 
 and vital of the countless blessings which Heaven sends us dis- 
 guised as afflictions, as judgments, or at least as trials. I learned 
 to realize the divine benignity underlying and animating the sen- 
 tence passed on our common ancestors as the penalty of the first 
 transgression ; I learned to feel that in the world we inhabit, and 
 with such faculties, appetites, and passions as make up that super- 
 lative paradox called Man, the denunciation, ' In the sweat of thy 
 face shalt thou eat bread,' was in fact our necessary, vital safeguard 
 against falling into the lowest abysses of depravity and misery. 
 Only through the inexorable requirement of industry has our race 
 — or, more strictly, some part of it — ever risen in the scale of 
 moral being ; and this only where such necessity was urgent and 
 palpable. Not on the bleak crests and amid the icy gorges of 
 wind-swept mountains, but in unctuous, sunny vales, amid trop- 
 ical verdure and luxuriance, have the darker aspects of human in- 
 firmity been developed ; not unmeaning was the first great visita- 
 tion of human wickedness by deluge, which covered soonest the 
 low intervales, the deltas of rivers, and seaside glades, so rich in 
 corn and cattle, so fertile also in pride and sin. Sodom and Go- 
 morrah, Herculaneum and Pompeii, Catania, Caracas, and a hun- 
 dred other victims of some gigantic outpouring of judgment, unite 
 in attesting that where least labor is required to satisfy his physical 
 needs, there is man's moral raggedness most flagrant and repulsive. 
 No well-informed naturalist need be told that Iceland is more moral 
 than Madagascar; he finds this fact graven on the earth, foreor- 
 dained through eternal and immutable laws. And it is not too 
 much to say, that, if the doom of Adam could be so far remitted 
 that all man's primary and inexorable wants should henceforth be 
 satisfied without labor on his part, there is no power on earth that 
 could save him from sinking, gradually but inevitably, into a bru- 
 tish and debauched Austrahan or Patagonian barbarism. 
 
 " Our primitive conceptions of integrity are derived from work. 
 As a problem is something to be proved or tested, so probity is 
 
SLAVERY AND LABOR. 447 
 
 character that has been subjected to the orclcal and has stood the 
 test, — in other words, is integrity jororec/. All the processes of 
 industry, all the operations of Nature, imply honesty and truth. If 
 any man ever made bass-wood seeds, ho certainly made them to 
 sell, not to plant ; and no knave ever imagined that he could hood- 
 wink or dupe Nature by the semblance of service without the real- 
 ity. The ploughman is always honest toward her, for he holds his 
 livelihood by the tenor of such fidelity: it is only Avhen he ceases 
 to be a producer, and appears in the radically different attitude of a 
 trader, or vender of his products, that he is tempted to be a knave. 
 All Nature's processes are hearty, earnest, thorough ; and man, if 
 he would aid, direct, or profit by her evolutions, must approach 
 her with frank sincerity. Hence, I hold that no man ever really 
 loved work and was content to live by it who was not essentially 
 honest and upright, and did not tend to become day by day more 
 rrranly and humane. 
 
 "This very hour, the lumbermen of the Ottawa arc driving the 
 first approaches of persistent civilization to a point nearer the pole 
 than was ever before attained on this eastern slope of our conti- 
 nent. Among the pines of the Aroostook, the Saginaw, the Wis- 
 consin, the Minnesota, the axes of the woodmen arc hewing out 
 the timbers of many a stately edifice, which a coming summer shall 
 see rise among the shrines of traffic by the far shores of the Atlan- 
 tic Ocean. To-day, for the first time since the flood, is the sun let 
 in upon spot after spot in the great Western wilderness, on which 
 a rude cabin shall emerge from amid smoke and stumps next sum- 
 mer, — a warm hearth-stone within, and sturdy, fliir-han-ed chil- 
 dren playing around it. Pass a few years more, and that little dot 
 of blackened clearing will have gradually eaten away the encircling 
 woods, and given a hand to the newer adjacent clearings on either 
 side ; and soon commodious dwellings, fair villages, the hum of 
 steady, prosperous industry, and all the manifestations of civilized 
 life will have supplanted the howl of the wolf and all the sullen in- 
 fluences of perpetual shade. Around no Silistria or Sevastopol, in 
 no Crimea or Dobrodja, is the drama of man's life-struggle being 
 enacted, but in the freshly trodden wilds of Iowa and Minnesota, 
 on the rolling prairies of Kansas, in the far glens of Utah, and along 
 the great future highway across the continent, where California 
 beckons to her Eastern sisters, and points them to the wealth and 
 
448 SLAVERY AND LABOR. 
 
 work which stretch beyond her, and across the great Pacific and 
 among the isles of the Indian tropic. Not with the sword, but 
 with the axe, does man hew out his path to a higher and purer 
 civiHzation ; and the measure of his present attainment is his re- 
 gard for the humble and untinselled, but mighty and beneficent arts 
 of peace. 
 
 " Can it be wondered, then, that I, a child of many generations 
 of cotters and drudging delvers, should ponder and dream over 
 THE ELEVATION OF LABOR to Something like the dignity and esteem 
 which its merits and its utility demand ? What can be more nat- 
 ural than that I should ask whether this fair and stately structure 
 of society, wherein we are so amply sheltered and shielded, must 
 always rest heavily on those by whom its foundations were laid 
 and its walls erected ? If a peer may without reproach ' stand by 
 his order,' why may not a peasant as well? 
 
 " For still, to the earnest vision, the condition of the worker — 
 even in this favored region — is a rugged and hard one. He is not 
 respected by others ; he too often does not respect himself Work- 
 ing in the main either because he must work or starve, or in order 
 that he may be raised above the necessity of working, he does not 
 accept labor as a benignantly appointed destiny, but as a vindic- 
 tively denounced penalty which he must endure as unmurmuringly 
 and finish as speedily as possible. Happiness in the vulgar con- 
 ception being compounded of idleness and the most unlimited grati- 
 fication of the sensual appetites, and this happiness being the ' end 
 and aim ' of every earthly effort, it is inevitable that the worker 
 should be regarded olike by himself and by others as one who has 
 thus far failed, and who is therefore obnoxious to the stigma which 
 the common mind ever affixes to the unsuccessful. 
 
 " The institution of human slavery appears to me the logical cul- 
 mination and result of the popular ideas respecting labor; for if 
 labor be essentially and necessarily an infliction, a penalty, a curse, 
 then it is but human nature that each should endeavor to do as 
 little of it as possible. If the obligation to work be a bolt of 
 Divine wrath, then it is to be expected that man should seek to 
 interpose some other body between his dodging head and the ce- 
 lestial vengeance. Teach a child that labor is not a good to be ac- 
 cepted and improved, but an evil to be shunned and shirked, and 
 you have impelled him far on the road to the slave-jockey's pen as 
 a cheapener and customer. 
 
SLAVERY AND LABOU. 449 
 
 " I do not marvel, then, that slavery has so long cursed the earth'; 
 I see clearly that it could not have failed to do so. To the pre- 
 mise that labor is an evil to be shunned so far as possible add the 
 assumption that war and conquest are legitimate, and slavery fol- 
 lows of course. I have vanquished my enemy in battle, and have 
 a right to kill him ; but that would be too costly and transient a 
 gratification, when I can save him to take my place iu the field or 
 the shop; to receive that share of the primal curse which was 
 providentially intended for me; to be my substitute in all cases 
 where I would rather not perform a duty in person, and the butt 
 of my ill-humor, whenever, through his fault, or mine, or neither, 
 my plans miscarry, and my hopes are blasted by defeat. My slave 
 or captive, having been spared by my clemency, and living only at 
 my mercy, owes me boundless obedience and service, while I owe 
 him nothing but such food and clothing as will keep him alive and 
 in condition to perform that service. I have become to him Church, 
 State, and Providence, — Law, Conscience, and Divinity, — and he 
 can only go amiss by disobeying my commands. If he have wife 
 or children, they too are mine, or his only in subordination to my 
 interests and my will ; those children would not have been but for 
 my clemency ; they too owe everything to me, and must live only 
 for my convenience, advantage, and profit. Thus the system ac- 
 quires a self-perpetuating quality, and may endure, even without 
 fresh wars and subjugations, to the end of time. And, so far as 
 the enslaver can realize, it is a most convenient and satisfactory 
 system, — supplying him with hands to do his work, feet to run 
 his errands, eyes to watch and arms to guard his possessions, and 
 ready ministers to every whim or lust. 
 
 " But though eternal laws may thus, in one sense, be defied, 
 their penalties cannot be evaded. The stern Nemesis is ever close 
 on the heels of the transgressor. A household of masters and 
 slaves, of sacrificers and victims, can never be a loving arnl happy 
 home. It includes too many crushed aspirations, outraged sensi- 
 bilities, unavenged wrongs. The children of both master and slave 
 are in false positions: the former necessarily grow up self-willed, 
 overbearing, indolent; the latter, abject, servile, false, and devoid 
 of self-respect. Vainly shall the master seek, in such a presence, 
 to imbue his children with lessons of industry, humility, and defer- 
 ence; for to every such lesson the ready response will be: 'What 
 are slaves ybr, if not to minister to our convenience and enjoyment.? 
 
450 SLAVERY AXD LABOR. 
 
 If we are to work, to be frugal, to wait upon ourselves, why should 
 we endure the presence, the low moral development, the care and 
 responsibility, of these Helots? If we do all for ourselves, at least 
 give us opportunity, give us room ! ' The moment a master re- 
 solves to square his life and that of his family by the golden rule, 
 the presence and direction of a lot of stuj)id, sensual, indolent slaves 
 is felt to be a nuisance and a burden. 
 
 "And, while it is true that slavery is the logical consequence, 
 the Corinthian capital, of the popular notions respecting labor, it is 
 none the less certain that the arts — which flourish where the la- 
 borer is free from any constraint but that of his own aspirations, 
 appetites, and needs — flicker and die out where slavery bears 
 sway. In our own sunny South — answering to the Italy, G-reece, 
 Asia Minor, and Carthage of the Old World — there is the best of 
 ship-timber, yet the cotton and tobacco there grown seek distant 
 markets, in Northern vessels, sailed by sons of New England, and 
 manned by Yankee crews. Northern merchants and clerks fill 
 their seaports and buy their crops ; Northern teachers instruct their 
 children, so far as they are taught at all ; their time is measured by 
 Yankee clocks, and their tables set with Northern or European 
 dishes; in short, about the only trophy of human genius peculiar 
 to the Southrons is the cotton-gin, which they stole from Whit- 
 ney, a Yankee. And every one who has travelled or lived there 
 must be conscious that lile is far ruder and poorer among the 
 planters than in the corresponding class in any non-slaveholding 
 region of the civilized world ; and that, beyond a bountiful supply 
 of coarse and ill-cooked food, the majority of Southern homes are 
 devoid of nearly everything which civilized men consider essential 
 to the comfort of life. 
 
 " Do I state these facts with a feeling of exultation ? Surely not. 
 I state them only to enforce the vital truth that man must create 
 IN ORDER TO ENJOY. He must producB, if he would find pleasure in 
 consuming; must do good to others, in order to secure good to 
 himself In other words, work is not a curse to be escaped, but a 
 blessing to be accepted and improved. If every freeman now on. 
 earth were offered a dozen slaves, I fear nine tenths know no better 
 than to accept ; j'ct, I feel sure, also, that, simply as a question of 
 personal loss and gain, it would be better for any one of them to be 
 burned out of house and home than to receive such a Trojan horse 
 into his keeping." 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 ACROSS THE PLAINS TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Farewell to civilization— The buffaloes on the Plains— Conversation with Brigham Young 
 —Remarks upon polygamy— Visit to the Yo Semite Valley— Reception at Sacramento 
 — at San Francisco. 
 
 In the summer of 1859 Mr. Greeley made his celebrated journey- 
 across the Plains to California, the particulars of which, according 
 to his custom, he related to his readers. The manner in which he 
 announced his purpose was characteristic: "About the 1st of Oc- 
 ber next we are to have a State election; then a city contest; then 
 the organization and long session of a new Congress ; then a Presi- 
 dential struggle; then Congress again; which brings us to the 
 forming of a new national administration and the summer of 1861. 
 If, therefore, I am to have any respite from editorial labor for the 
 next two years I must take it now." So on the 9th of May, 1859, 
 he left New York for a trip across the continent. 
 
 From his letters and other sources I glean a few of the more 
 peculiar and interesting incidents. 
 
 ins FAREWELL TO CIVILIZATION AT PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 " I believe I have now descended the ladder of artificial life 
 nearly to its lowest round. If the Cheyennes — thirty of whom 
 stopped the last express down on the route we must traverse, and 
 tried to beg or steal from it — should see fit to capture and strip 
 us, we should of course have further experience in the same line ; 
 but for the present the progress I have made during the last fort- 
 night toward the primitive simplicity of human existence may be 
 roughly noted thus : — 
 
 "il/a^ I2lh, Chicago. — Chocolate and morning newspapers last 
 ceen on the breakfast-table. 
 
 " 23d, Leavenworth. — Eoom-bells and baths make their last ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 " 2Aih, Topeka. — Beefsteak and washbowls (other than tin) last 
 visible. Barber ditto. 
 
452 ACROSS THE PLAINS TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 " 26th, ISTanliaUan. — Potatoes and eggs last recognized among 
 the blessings that ' brighten as they take their flight.' Chairs ditto. 
 
 ^^ 21th, Junction City. — Last visitation of a bootblack, with dis- 
 solving views of a board bedroom. Chairs bid us good by. 
 
 " 28^/i, Pipe Creek. — Benches for seats at meals have disap- 
 peared, giving place to bags and boxes. "We (two passengers of a 
 scribbling turn) write our letters in the express wagon that has 
 borne us by day, and must supply us lodgings for the night. Thun- 
 der and lightning from both south and west give strong promise of 
 a shower before morning. Dubious looks at several holes in the 
 canvas covering of the Avagon. Our trust is in buoyant hearts and 
 an India-rubber blanket." 
 
 IIK SEES THE BUFFALO. 
 
 "All day yesterday they darkened the earth around us, often 
 seeming to be drawn up like an army in battle array on the ridges 
 and adown their slopes a mile or so south of us, — often on the 
 north as well. They are rather shy of the little screens of strag- 
 gling timber on the creek bottoms, — doubtless from their sore ex- 
 perience of Indians lurking therein to discharge arrows at them as 
 they went down to drink. If they feed in the grass of the narrow 
 valleys and ravines, they are careful to have a part of the herd on 
 the ridges which overlook them, and with them the surrounding 
 country for miles. And when an alarm is given, they all rush 
 furiously off in the direction which the leaders presume that of 
 safety. 
 
 " This is what gives us such excellent opportunities for regarding 
 them to the best advantage. They are moving northward, and are 
 still mainly south of our track. Whenever alarmed, they set off on 
 their awkward but effective canter to the great herds still south, or 
 to haunts with which they are comparatively fixmiliar, and wherein 
 they have hitherto found safety. Of course this sends those north 
 of us across our way, often but a few rods in front of us, even when 
 they had started a mile away. Then a herd will commence run- 
 ning across a hundred rods ahead of us, and, the whole blindly fol- 
 lowing their leader, we will be close upon tliem before the last will 
 have cleared the track. Of course they sometimes stop and tack, 
 or, seeing us, sheer off and cross farther ahead, or split into two 
 
HE SEES THE BUFFALO. 453 
 
 lines; but the general impulse, when alarmed, is to follow blindly 
 and at full speed, seeming not to inquire or consider from what 
 quarter danger is to be apprehended. 
 
 " What strikes the stranger with most amazement is their immense 
 numbers. I know a million is a great many, but I am confident 
 we saw that number yesterday. Certainly, all we saw could not 
 have stood on ten square miles of ground. Often the country for 
 miles on either hand seemed quite black with them. The soil is 
 rich, and well matted with their favorite grass. Yet it is all (ex- 
 cept a very little on the creek bottoms, near to timber) eaten down 
 like an overtaxed sheep-pasture in a dry August. Consider that 
 we have traversed more than one hundred miles in width since we 
 first struck them, and that for most of this distance the buflalo have 
 been constantly in sight, and that they continue for some twenty- 
 five miles farther on, — this being the breadth of their present range, 
 which has a length of perhaps a thousand miles, and you have some 
 approach to an idea of their countless millions. I doubt whether 
 the domesticated horned cattle of the United States equal the num- 
 bers, while they must fall considerably short in weight, of these 
 wild ones. Margaret Fuller long ago observed that the Illinois 
 prairies seemed to repel the idea of being new to civilized life and 
 industry; that they, with their borders of trees and belts of tim- 
 ber, reminded the traveller rather of the parks and spacious fields 
 of an old country like England; that you were constantly on the 
 involuntary lookout for the chateaux, or at least the humbler farm- 
 houses, which should diversify such a scene. True as this is or 
 was in Illinois, the resemblance is far more striking here, where the 
 grass is all so closely pastured and the cattle are seen in such vast 
 herds on every ridge. The timber, too, aids the resemblance, seem- 
 ing to have been reduced to the last degree consistent with the 
 wants of a grazing country, and to have been left only on the steep 
 creek-banks where grass would not grow. It is hard to realize 
 that this is the centre of a region of Avilderness and solitude, so far 
 as the labors of civilized man are concerned, — that the first wagon 
 passed through it some two months ago. But the utter absence of 
 houses or buildings of any kind, and our unbridged, unworked 
 road, winding on its way for hundreds of miles, without a track 
 other than of buffalo intersecting or leading away from it on cither 
 hand, brings us back to the reality. 
 
45-1 Al UOS^ lUK ri.AlNS VO CWIIKOUNIA. 
 
 "I shall paAS lightly over the hunting exploits of ouv party. A 
 good niauy shots have been tuvil, — of oourso not by n»o ; ovou weit) 
 1 in tho habit of making war on Avilil Nature's t-hiUhon, I would as 
 soon think of sliooting u>y noighbor's oxen as those groat, chnusy, 
 harmless ereatiu'os. If they were soaree, 1 might eonipiehend the 
 idea o( hunting them for sport; here, they aro so abunilant that 
 you nnght jus well hunt your neighbor's geeso. And, while thoro 
 have been several shots tired by our party at point-blank distmiees, 
 I have reason for my hope that no builalo has exporieueod any per- 
 sonal iuoonvenienee therefrom." 
 
 IIK ALSO HAS A TASTK OK THK KLKrUANT. 
 
 '"Two evening's since, just as wo were nearing Station 17, where 
 we were to stop for tho night, my fellows-passenger and I had a 
 joeular discussion on the gullies into Avhich wo were so frequently 
 plunged, to our personal discomfort. He premised that it was a 
 consolation that the siiles of these gullies could not be worse than 
 perpcuilicular: to which I replied with the assertioii that they 
 could be and were; for instance, where a gully, in addition to its 
 perpendicular descent, had an inclination of forty-live degrees or so 
 to one side the track. Just then a violent lurch of the wagou to 
 ono side, then to the other, in descending one of these jolts, on- 
 forced my position. Two minutes later, as we were about to de- 
 scend the steep bank of the creek intervale, the mules acting per- 
 versely, my friend stepped out to tivke them by the head, leaving 
 me alone in the wagon. Just then wo began to tlcscend the steep 
 pitch, the driver pulling up with all his might, when tho left rein 
 of the leaders broke, and the teani was in a moment slieered out of 
 the road and ran diagonally down t]>o pitch. In a second, the 
 wagon went over, hitting the gromul a n\ost spiteful blow. I, of 
 course, went over Avith it; and when 1 rose to my feet, as soon as 
 possible, considerably bewildered and dishevelled, the nmles had 
 been disengaged by the upset, and were making good time across 
 the prairie, while the driver, considerably hm-t, was getting out from 
 under the carriage to limp after them. I had a slight cut on my 
 letl cheek, and a worse one below the left knee, with a pretty snuirt 
 concussion generally, but not a bone starteil nor a tendon strained, 
 and I walked away to the station as tirudy as ever, leaving tho 
 suporintendent anil my fellow-passeugor to pick up the pieces, mid 
 
UK fONVKItSKM Wllir liltKJIIAM YOUNf;. 'l.'io 
 
 Kuiird lli<! \i:i</'^in^(: Croiii Uk; Iii<liiui.M, vvlio Jii.slaiilJy swaiiiiod about 
 llu) wii'c.k. I am Hon; y<:l,, anil a litlN; la/iic, Ijiit, Lliroo or four days' 
 rc'Hl — iC I can (,'v<;r ^rcl it — -will niakr; all n</)\l." 
 
 u\: i;n(:oi;nti:i:h an old knkmv. 
 
 " Ol' llio H(!V(:iit,c('ii l)a<(K on vvliicli 1 liavo ridden for Uk; last four 
 day'M, al, Icasl, .sixiccn ar(i filli-il vvil.li larifi! Ixjiiiid hool.s, mainly 
 Talcnl. ()Hic(i Kr|ioils, I jiid^rc, i)Ul, all oClliciii iiniJuiiMcdly works 
 onlcrt'd |iriMl<-tl al, llic imlilic cosi, — your cos!,, icadcrl — by (Jori- 
 j^rnsH, and now on I heir way lo cc'i'lain favored MiJi'inoiis, franked 
 (by proxy) ' I'ldi. Doe. J'^rce, J. M. IJeiiiliisc;!, M. (!.' I do not, 
 lilame Mr. 1!. for elul.t'liin(.( his Khan; of this pnblie j)linid('r, and 
 di.slriliutin;.^ it .so as to iniircsase his own pojiulaiily and iinpor- 
 tan(!('; but I do protest ap;ainst lliis business of jirintiri;,' l)ooks by 
 Aviiolesale at the eost of the whole |)euple, foi- free; dislribiilion to a 
 part only. It is t^veiy way wroii^^ and jiernieion.s. ()!' the $ 100,000 
 per anrniin paid for eurryinff the Halt Lake mail, ninc! tcntlis ia ah- 
 soriied in Ihe (;ost of carrying' these lrank(;d doeinneids to [)Oop1c 
 -who r(intrilmt(! little or nothinj^^ to the sup])ort of llu; [.';overnmcnt 
 in any way. Is this fair? Mach Talent Olfice Keport will liavo 
 eost the 'I'i'eiisnry four or live dollars by I lie lime it reaches its des- 
 tination, and will not b(! valued by the receiver at twenty-five 
 cents. Why should this business f,M) on? Why not 'reform it 
 altof,'etlier'? Let Con^re.^iS print whatever documenis arc; needed 
 for ils own information, and k-ave tlie people to choose and buy for 
 themselves? I have spent lour days and live nij^dils in elo.so con- 
 lael wilh Ihe shar|) edi^cs of Mr. nernhisel's ' I'lib. Doe.'; have 
 done my vi:ry utmost to maki; them present a snioolh, or at least 
 endurable surface; and 1 am sun; there is no slumber to bo ox- 
 tru<:ted therefrom uide.ss by reading them, — a desperate resort 
 which no rational jjcrson would reeonmiend. For all practical pur- 
 po.ses they might as well — now that l-hc printer has been ])aid for 
 tlioin — bo where I heartily wish they wore, — in tho bottom of 
 the sea." 
 
 HE CONVKUSKS WITH IIUICIIAM YOUNO. 
 
 " My friend, Dr. Bcndiisel, M. C, took mo this afternoon, by ap- 
 poiutmeut, to moot Uriyhum Young, Trosident of the Mormon 
 
456 ACROSS THE VLA1N9 TO OAl UOUNIA. 
 
 Church, who had expressed a williiiguess to receive m& at 2, P. M. 
 We were very cordially Avelcomed at tlie door by the President, 
 who led us into the second-story parlor of the largest of his houses 
 (he has three), where I was introduced to lleber 0. Kimball, Gen- 
 eral Wells, General Ferguson, Albert Carrington, Elias Smith, and 
 several other leading nu>n in the Church, with two full-grown sons 
 of the President. Alter some unimportant conversation on general 
 topics, I stated that I liad come in quest of fuller knowledge re- 
 specting the doctrines and polity of the Mormon Church, and would 
 like to ask sonu> questions bearing directly on these, if there were 
 no objection. President Young avowing his willingness to respond 
 to all pertinent inquiries, the conversation proceeded substantially 
 as follows: — 
 
 " II. Cr. Am T to regard Mormonism (so called) as a new religion, 
 or as simply a new development of Christianity ? 
 
 " li. Y. We hold that there can be no true Christian Church with- 
 out a priesthood directly commissioned by and in iuunediate com- 
 nuuiication with the Son of God and Saviour oi' numkind. . Such a 
 church is that of the Latter-Day Saints, called by their enemies 
 Mormons; we know no other that even pretends to have present 
 and ilirect revelations of God's will. 
 
 " //. G. Then I am to understand that you regard all other 
 churches professing to be Christian as the Church of Rome regards all 
 churches not in comnuniion with itself, — as schismatic, heretical, 
 and out of the way of salvation? 
 
 "iJ. Y. Yes, substantially. 
 
 "//. G. Apart from this, in what respect do your doctrines differ 
 essentially from those of our orthodox Protestant Churches, — the 
 Baptist or Methodist, for example ? 
 
 " B. Y. We hold the doctrines of Christianity as revealed in the 
 Old and New Testaments, also in the Book of Mormon, which 
 teaches the same cardinal truths, and those only. 
 
 "//. G. Do you believe in the doctrine of the Trinity? 
 
 "i>. }'. AVe do; but not exactly as it is held by other churches. 
 We believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, as equal, 
 but not identical, — not as one person [being]. AVe believe in all 
 tlie Bible teaches on this subject. 
 
 "i/. G. Do you believe in a personal Devil, a distinct^ conscious, 
 spiritual being, whose nature and acts are essentially malignant and 
 evil? 
 
II K CONVERSES WITH BRIGIIAM YOUNG. 457 
 
 "5. Y. \Vc do. 
 
 "//. G. Do you liold the doctrine of eterniil punishment? 
 
 "B. Y We do; though perhaps not exactly as other churches 
 do. We beHeve it as the Biijle teaches it. 
 
 "//. (r. I understand that you regard baptism by immersion as 
 essential. 
 
 "JS. Y. We do. 
 
 "//. G. Do you practise infant baptism? 
 
 "/i. Y. No. 
 
 " H. G. Do you make removal to these valleys obligatory on your 
 converts? 
 
 " B. Y. They would consider themselves greatly aggrieved if they 
 were not invited hither. We hold to such a gathering together of 
 God's people as the Bible foretells, and that this is the place, and 
 now is the time appointed for its consummation. 
 
 " //. G. The predictions to w^iich you refer have usually, I think, 
 been understood to indicate Jerusalem (or Judica) as the place of 
 such gathering. 
 
 " B. Y. Yes, for the Jews ; not for others. 
 
 ^^ H. G. What is the position of your Church with respect to 
 slavery ? 
 
 " B. Y. We consider it of Divine institution, and not to be abol- 
 ished until the curse pronounced on Ham shall have been removed 
 from his descendants. 
 
 " //. G. Are any slaves now held in this Territory ? 
 
 "5. Y. There are.. 
 
 "//. G. Do your Territorial laws uphold slavery? 
 
 " B. Y. Those laws are printed, you can read for yourself. If 
 slaves are brought here by those who owned them in the States, 
 we do not Aivor their escape from the service of those owners. 
 
 "//. G. Am I to infer that Utah, if admitted as a member of the 
 Federal Union, will be a slave State? 
 
 " B. Y. No ; she will be a free State. Slavery here would prove 
 useless and unprofitable. I regard it generally as a curse to the 
 masters. I myself hire many laborers, and pay them fair wages; I 
 could not afford to own them. I can do better than subject myself 
 to an obligation to feed and clothe their families, to provide and 
 care for them in sickness and health. Utah is not adapted to slave 
 labor. 
 
 20 
 
458 ACKOSS THE PLAINS TO CAI.IFOKNIA. 
 
 ''H. G. Let me uow be enlightened with regard more especially 
 to your Cluiroh polity. 1 understand that you require each mem- 
 ber to pay over one tenth of all he produces or earns to the Church. 
 
 "-B. Y. That is a requirement of our faith. There is no compul- 
 sion as to the payment. Each member acts in the premises accord- 
 ing to his pleasure, imder the dictates of his own conscience. 
 
 "i/. G. What is done with the proceeds of this tithing? 
 
 "£. Y. Part of it is devoted to building temples and other places 
 of worship; part to helping the poor and needy converts on their 
 way to this country; and the largest portion to the support of the 
 poor among the Saints. 
 
 " //. G. Is none of it paid to bishops and other dignitaries of the 
 Church? 
 
 " B. Y. Not one penny. No bishop, no elder, no deai-on, or other 
 church officer, receives any compensation for his official services. 
 A bishop is ollen required to put his hand in his OAvn pocket and 
 provide therefrom for the poor of his I'hnrge ; but he never receives 
 anything for his services. 
 
 "i/. G. How, then, do your-ministers live? 
 
 ".B. Y. By the labor of their own hands, like the first Apostles. 
 Every bishop, every elder, may be daily seen at Avork in the field 
 or the shop, like his neighbors; every minister of the Church has 
 his proper calling by which he earns the bread of his family; he 
 who cannot or will not do the Church's work for nothing is not 
 wanted in her service; even our lawyers (pointing to General Fer- 
 guson and another present, Avho are the regular lawyers of the 
 Church) are paid nothing for their services; I am the only person 
 in the Church who has not a regular calling apart from the Church's 
 service, and I never received one farthing from her treasury; if I 
 obtain anything from the ti thing-house, I am charged with and 
 pay for it, just as any one else would; the clerks in the tithing- 
 store are paid like other clerks, but no one is ever paid for any ser- 
 vice pertaining to the ministry. We think a man who cannot make 
 his living aside from the ministry of Christ nnsuited to that office. 
 I am called rich, and consider myself worth $250,000; but no dol- 
 lar of it was ever paid me by the Church, or for any service as a 
 minister of the everlasting Gospel. I lost nearly all I had when we 
 were broken up in Missouri and driven from that State. I was 
 nearly stripped again when Joseph Smith was nuu'dorcil and we 
 
HE CONVERSES WITH BIUGIIAM YOUNG. 459 
 
 were driven from Illinois; but nothing was ever made up to me by 
 the Church, nor by any one. I believe I know how to acquire 
 property, and liow to take care of it. 
 
 " II. G. Can you give me any rational explanation of the aversion 
 and hatred with which your people are generally regarded by those 
 among whom they have lived and with whom they have been 
 brought directly in contact? 
 
 "i^. Y. No other explanation than is afforded by the crucifixion 
 of Christ and the kindred treatment of God's ministers, prophets, 
 and saints in all ages. 
 
 "//. G. I know that a new sect is always decried and traduced; 
 that it is hardly ever deemed respectable to belong to one; that the 
 Baptists, Quakers, Methodists, Universalists, &c., have each in their 
 turn been regarded in the infancy of their sect as the offscouring of 
 the earth; yet I cannot remember that either of them were ever 
 generally represented and regarded by the older sects of their early 
 days as thieves, robbers, murderers. 
 
 " D. Y. If you will consult the contemporary Jewish accounts of 
 the Hfe and acts of Jesus Christ, you will find that he and his dis- 
 ciples were accused of every abominable deed and purpose, — rob- 
 bery and murder included. Such a work is still extant, and may 
 be found by those who seek it. 
 
 " //. G. What do you say of the so-called Danites, or Destroy- 
 ing Angels, belonging to your Church? 
 
 " B. Y. What do you say ? I know of no such band, no such per- 
 sons or organization. I hear of them only in the slanders of our 
 enemies. 
 
 "//. G. With regard, then, to the grave question on which your 
 doctrines and practices are avowedly at war with those of the 
 Christian world, — that of a plurality of wives, — is the system of 
 your Church acceptable to the majority of its women? 
 
 " B. Y. They could not be more averse to it than I was when it 
 was first revealed to us as thc«Divine will. I think they generally 
 accept it, as I do, as the will of God. 
 
 " H. G. How general is polygamy among you ? 
 
 " B. Y. I could not say. Some of those present [heads of the 
 Church] have each but one wife; others have more; each deter- 
 mines what is his individual duty. 
 
 " //. G. What is the largest number of wives belonging to any 
 one man? 
 
4G0 ACROSS THE PLAINS TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 '' B. Y. I have lifteen; I know no one who has more; but some 
 of those sealed to nie are oUl hulies whom I regard rather as moth- 
 ers than Avives, but wliom I have taken home to cherish and support. 
 
 "/f. G. Does not the Apostle Paul say that a bisliop should be 
 ' the husband of one wilb ' ? 
 
 " B. Y. So Ave hold. We do not regard any but a married mau 
 as fitted for the office of bishop. But the apostle does not forbid a 
 bishop having more Avives than one. 
 
 "//. G. Does not Christ say that he who puts aAvay his Avife, or 
 marries one Avhom another has put aAvay, commits adultery ? 
 
 "5. Y. Yes ; and I hold that no man should ever put aAvay a Avife 
 except for adultery, — not ahvays even for that. Such is vty indi- 
 vidual vieAA' of the matter. I do not say that Avives have never 
 been put aAvay in our Church, but that I do not approve of the 
 practice. 
 
 "i/. G. IToAV do you regard Avhat is ooumiouly termed the Chris- 
 tian Sabbath? 
 
 "jB. Y. As a divinelj' appointed day of rest. We enjoin all to rest 
 from secular labor on that day. We would have no man enslaved 
 to the Sabbath, but Ave enjoin all to respect and enjoy it." 
 
 HIS OPINION OF POLYGAMY. 
 
 " I have enjoyed opportunities for visiting Mormons, and study- 
 ing Mormonism in the homes of its votaries, and of discussing witli 
 them Avhat the outside world regards as its distinguishing feature, 
 in the freedom of friendly social intercourse. In one instance, a 
 veteran apostle of the fiiith, having first introduced to me a Avorthy 
 matron of fitty-five or sixty — the Avife of his youth and the 
 mother of his groAvn-up sons — as Mrs. T., soon after introduced a 
 young and Avinning lady, of perhaps tAventy-five summers, in these 
 Aivords: 'Here is another Mrs. T.' This lady is a recent emigrant 
 from our State, of more than average poAvers of mind and graces 
 of person, Avho came here Avith her brother, as a convert, a littJe 
 over a year ago, and has been the sixth wife of Mr. T. since a few 
 weeks after her arrival. (The intermediate four Avives of Elder T. 
 live on a form or farms some miles distant.) The manner of the 
 husband Avas perfectly unconstrained and off-hand throughout ; but 
 I could not well be mistaken in my conviction that both ladies failed 
 to conceal dissatisfaction Avith their position in the eyes of their 
 
HIS OriXIOX OF rOLYUAMY. 461 
 
 visitor iind of Liu; world. Thoy sccmod to feel thai it needed vin- 
 dication. Their manner toward each other was most cordial and 
 sisterly, —sincerely so, I doubt not, — Imt tiiis is ])y no means the 
 rule. A Gentile friend, whose duties rcfiuiic; hiin to travel widely 
 over the Territory, informs me that he has repeatedly stopped with 
 a Bishop, .souk; hun(hed miles south of this, whose two wives he 
 ]ia,s never known to address each other, or evince the slightest cor- 
 diality, during the hours he has spent in their societ.y. The Bish- 
 op's house consists of two rooms; and when my informant stayed 
 there with a Gentile friend, the Bishop being absent, one wife slept 
 in tiie same apartment with them, rather than in t,hat oc;cupied by 
 her double. I presume that an extreme case, but the spirit which 
 impels it is not unusual. I met this evening a large party of young 
 people, consisting in nearly equal numbers of husl)ands and wives; 
 but no husband was attended by more than one wife, and no gen- 
 tleman aihniltcil (M' implied, in our rejjeated and animated discus- 
 sions of polygamy, that he had more than one wife. And I was 
 again struck by the circumstance that here, as heretofore, no wo- 
 man indicated by word or look her approval of any argument in 
 favor of polygamy. That many women acquiesce in it as an ordi- 
 nance of God, and have been drilled into a mechanical assent to the 
 logic by which it is upheld, I believe; but that there is not a wo- 
 man in Utah who does not in her heart wish that God had not or- 
 dained it I am confident. And quite a number of the young men 
 treat it in conversation as a temporary or experimental arrange- 
 ment, which is to be sustained or put aside as experience shall 
 demonstrate its utility or mischief One old Mormon farmer, with 
 whom I discussed the matter privately, admitted that it was impos- 
 sible lor a poor working-man to have a well-ordered, well-governed 
 household, where his children had two or more living mothers oc- 
 cupying the same ordinary dwelling. On the whole, I conclude 
 that polygamy, as it was a graft on the original stock of Mormon- 
 ism, will be outlived by the root; that there will be a new revela- 
 tion ere many years, whereby the Saints will be admonished to 
 love and cherish the wives they already have, but not to marry any 
 more beyond the natural assignment of one wife to each husband. 
 " I regret that I have found time and opportunity to visit but one 
 of the nineteen common schools of this city. This was thinly at- 
 tended by children nearly all quite young, and of the most rudi- 
 
462 ACROSS THE PLAIXS TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 mentary attainments. Their phrenological developments were, in 
 the average, bad ; I say this with freedom, since I have stated that 
 those of the adults, as I noted them in the Tabernacle, were good. 
 But I am told that idiotic or malformed children are very rare, if 
 not unknown here. The male Saints emphasize the fact that a ma- 
 jority of the children born here are girls, holding it a proof that 
 Providence smiles on their " peculiar institution " ; I, on the con- 
 trary, maintain that such is the case in all polygamous countries, 
 and proves simply a preponderance of vigor on the part of the 
 mothers over that of the fathers wherever this result is noted. I 
 presume that a majority of the children of old husbands by young 
 wives in any community are girls." 
 
 MR. GREELEY EXCITES CONSTERNATION. 
 
 While the editor of the Tribune was pursuing his journey across 
 the continent, a California paper published a burlesque paragraph 
 to the effect that he "was on his way to California to take command 
 of all the filibusters to be found there ; that Henningsen and Walker 
 would join him with forces collected in the Atlantic States ; and 
 that the whole horde, under the supreme command of Horace Gree- 
 ley, would invade Mexico and usurp the government of that Re- 
 public. A copy of this paper fell into the hands of the commander 
 at Mazatlan, and he at once issued a proclamation informing the 
 people that ' one Horace Greeley, a most diabolical, bloodthirsty, 
 and unmerciful man, worse than the infamous Walker, or even the 
 minions of Miramon, — a man whose very name struck dread to 
 the hearts of thousands in the United States, so many were his 
 crimes and so terrible was his conduct, — is now at the head of the 
 most extensive band of filibusters ever collected, and on his way 
 to Mexico ! ' He then exhorts the people to prepare themselves 
 for instant action, and concludes thus : ' This dangerous man is not 
 of the common school of filibusters: they wish for plunder, he for 
 blood and murderous deeds.' " 
 
 THIRTEEN HOURS AT SACRAMENTO. 
 
 From the moment of his arrival in California to that of his de- 
 parture from it Mr. Greeley was treated as a public guest. As a 
 specimen of the manner in which he was received, I copy the fol- 
 lowing from the "Sacramento Union" of August 2, 1859. 
 
TIIIUTKKX IIOUUS AT SACKAMKNTO. \ ,8 
 
 " On Snmlav tlio committee of arrangements lieM an infonnal meeting, and 
 the committee of reception detailed to meet him at Folsom were put in tele- 
 gi'apiiic communication with the master of ceremonies at I'lacerville; the result 
 of which was an agi-ecment, on the part of friends of tho distinguished stranger 
 in tho latter city, to deliver him on Monday afternoon, in good order and sound 
 condition, by private conveyance, to such of his friends in Sacramento as should 
 be in waiting at Folsora. J. P. Robinson, Superintendent of the Sacramento 
 Valley Kailroad, placed a special train at the service of the connnittee, with 
 tlie freedom of the road to all they should invito to accompany them. 
 
 " Horace Greeley passed the night, or such portion of it as he was allowed to 
 have to himself, at the Gary House, and left Placerville at 11.20 A. M., in 
 company with G. W. Swan of that city, in an open-front, two-horse carriage. 
 At Mud Springs, about one hundred and fifty of the townspeople and miners 
 had assembled to greet him, under a banner stretched across the street. Gree- 
 ley did not, however, leave his seat, but exchanged salutations with the citi- 
 zens at the door of the carriage. On the way down the mountains, Mr. Swan's 
 lively and observant companion noticed with frequent exclamations of wonder 
 the enterprise and labor evinced in mining operations, and the miners' appa- 
 ratus for conveying water ; spoke of the ban-enness of the hillsides, but thought 
 it strange that the fertile spots in tlie valleys should be left unoccupied by till- 
 ei-s of the soil after tho miners had dcmided the hillsides of gold ; expressed 
 grea* sur])rise, as all new-comers do, at the fine appoaranco of our cattle con- 
 trasted with the apparent lean and dry j)asturage ; thought the fruit in the 
 gardens by the roadsides looked astonishingly thrifty ; and after some further 
 observations of the same character, and partaking with a good appetite of the 
 dinner served for him and his companion at Padurah, the head of the great 
 American press sank quietly back in one comer of the carriage, and was prone 
 to indulge in such unrefreshing slumber as a waiTn day over a dusty and tire- 
 some road can alone inspire. 
 
 " While the editor of the New York Tribimo slept his friends were wide 
 awake in the ' Gity of the Plains.' At 2.30 P. M. tho reception committee, 
 and about twenty-five or thirty others whom they had invited, stejjped into a 
 special car, and, under the convoy of Superintendent Pobinson, were soon fly- 
 ing on their road to Folsom. The committee reached Folsom in forty minutes 
 by the Superintendent's watch, and learned, on arriving, that the ' man with the 
 white coat ' had not yet made his appearance. The receptionists strolled about 
 the interesting town of F'olsom, and, their hospitable ardor communicating to 
 sundry of the inhabitants, the cannon was brought out, and soon a thundering 
 report, jj^hich must have wakened Greeley a mile distant, if he had slept until 
 that time, announced that the friends of the gi-eat expected were ready to re- 
 ceive hira with open arms. At a quarter to four, a carriage drawn by a pair 
 of roan-colored ponies drove at a pretty smart pace down the main street, and 
 straight up to the depot. By this time most of the committee had wandered 
 off in the vicinity of the bridge, so that when the proprietor of a little old glazed 
 travelling-bag, marked ' H. Grkki.ky, 154 Nassau Street, New York, 1S55,' a 
 very rusty and well-worn white coat, a still rustier and still more worn and faded 
 
4G4: ACROSS THE PLAIN'S TO CALIFOnNIA. 
 
 blue-cotton umbrella, together with a roll of blankets, were ileposited from the 
 carriage, there was no one present of the coniinitteo to take him by the hand. 
 The crowd about the depot, however, closed in so densely that Greeley was 
 fain to make for the first open door that presented itself. This, unfortunately, 
 happened to be the baiwoom attached to the ticket-office ; and hero some of the 
 connnittee found him, with his back turned defiantly against the sturdy rows 
 of bottles and decanters, talking informally with some friends who had been 
 beforehand; and here the committee seized their guest, and with considerable 
 trepidation hurried liim across to the hotel over the freight depot, followed by 
 a large and increasing ci'owd. Greeley was escorted to an upper room, where 
 J. IklcClatchy, on behalf of the committee, found o]>portiuiity to welcome him 
 in set phrase, in about the following language: — 
 
 '"Mk. Gukki.icy: Tliis committee, chosen by the citizens of Sacramento 
 without regard to party, have waited upon you to bid you welcome to the 
 capital of the State. The people of our city have long looked ujion you as 
 one of the noblest friends of California. They desire to show their appreci- 
 ation of your labors in its behalf by giving you a cordial welcome. Arrange- 
 ments have been made in our city to receive you and make your stay agree- 
 able, and we are ready, at your leisure, to escort you to the friends who axe 
 waiting your coming. In their name, and in the name of this, their commit- 
 tee, I welcome you to our city.' 
 
 " Mr. Greeley replied very nearly as follows : — 
 
 " ' I should have been glad, if I could have had my choice, to have avoided 
 a formal reception, because it looks like parade, and gives an idea of seeking 
 for glory, which is not a part of my plan in coming to California. I shall be 
 happy, however, to go with you, and to-night I would like to say something 
 about the Pacific Railroad. I am at your service, gentlemen, this evening, 
 but I 've got my business affairs to attend to afterward. I have not j'et seen 
 my letters ; they are waiting for me in your city. I have other places to visit, 
 and wish to see all I can, and meet all the friends I can here and elsewhere.' 
 
 " These remarks were delivered in the peculiar ofl-hand manner of the gi'eat 
 Eeformer, and in the high key and slender and wavering tones which are char- 
 acteristic of his public speaking. When he had finished there was a little 
 pause, as though each of the committee was cogitating what next was to be 
 done, when Greeley broke in with the bluntness so often ascribed to him, 
 ' Well, I 'm ready to go when you are.' 0. C. Wheeler, Secretary of the State 
 Agricultural Society, now extended an invitation to him to accompany the 
 visiting committee on their rounds of visits among the faiTns and orchards of 
 the State, setting out next week; which invitation Greeley thought he would 
 accept, but must take it under consideration. After several persons had been 
 introduced, Greeley was escorted back to the depot, followed by ' all Folsom for 
 four miles back,' as one of the crowd declared. Near the ticket-ofilce, having 
 signified to the committee that ho would like to say something to the people, 
 Mr. Mooney of the Folsom Express enjoined silence, and Greeley said: — 
 
 '" Fellow-'Citizens: I know very well that occasions like this are not 
 such as a person should choose for the purpose of making a speech, :ind I do 
 
TIltKTEKX II0X;RS AT SACltAM ENTO. 4G5 
 
 not wish to be rcgni-dcd as h;iviiif; come among you for S])eofili-maldng. I 
 have como to your far-otl' land as an American comes to visit Americans. I 
 don't liave time to read boolis, and I want to learn what I can of the men and 
 country I iiave come to see by practical observation. I want to see the land 
 which, during the last ten years, has furnished gold enough to check, if it 
 could not entirely overcome, the tide of reverse following the commercial ex- 
 travagance of the Kast. One of the objects of my visit has l)een to see what 
 it is practicable to accomplish for the Pacific Kailroad. [Cheei-s.] I know 
 that great dilhcultics and obstacles lie in the way, but I also know that every 
 addition of wealth and population on this side lessens those difficulties, — every 
 one hundred thousand souls you receive into your State increases, not the ne- 
 cessity, for that has all along existed, but the imminence of that necessity, so 
 to speak. It is a work which must be done in our day, and, if we live the or- 
 dinary lives of men, we shall see it accomplished. Every wave of emigration 
 to your shores will beat down an obstacle. I entreat you then, fellow-citizens. 
 to go on and draw around you the means for this great fulfilment of the noble 
 plan. Let us build up an American Republic, not as now, the two sides of a 
 great desert, but let us make it a concentrated and liarmonious whole. Those 
 who come to join you hero should not pursue the journey as now, wearily, 
 sadly, and by slow degrees, over these great plains. We must worlv with all 
 our energies for the prosperity of the Pacific Railroad. [Cheers.] I thank 
 you for the manner in which you have welcomed me, and I shall return homo 
 to labor with increased vigor for the road and for the success of the Union.' 
 
 " This short speech was greeted with hearty applause by over one hundred 
 and fifty persons, who had assembled to catch a sight of the flaxen locks and 
 benevolent face of Horace Greeley. At its close he was conducted into the 
 car, and the committee and their guest were soon on their way to this city at 
 a rattling pace. 
 
 " The committee of arrangements had prepared seven carriages to be in 
 waiting at the depot, on the arrival of the car containing their guest. A tele- 
 graphic despatch announced the moment of his departure from Folsom. In 
 less time than it had taken to go out, the whistle was heard announcing that 
 the train was coming down the levee. As the car approached the city, the 
 committee, who had up to this time been acting without much concert or reg- 
 ularity, found a rare subject for a concurrence of speech, at least, in Greeley's 
 old white coat and umbrella. Some of the ragged parts of the coat were con- 
 verted into little mementos by the more enterprising members of the com- 
 mittee. It was about five o'clock when the train reached the depot. Greeley 
 was handed into a carriage, accompanied by the committee distributed through 
 the other vehicles, and was driven to the St. George Hotel, where rooms have 
 been in keeping for him several days. In the parlor of this hotel a largo crowd 
 soon began to gather, and II. L. Nichols, President of the Board of Supervisors, 
 making his appearance, with other members of the general committee, was 
 introduced to their guest by D. Mcekor. Dr. Nichols then made the foUow- 
 ing address : — 
 
 " ' Mu. Gkekley: It is with pleasure, sir, that, on behalf of the citizens of 
 20* DD 
 
466' ACROSS TlIK PLAINS TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Sacrnmento, I welcome yoii to our city. It is probable that but few of us have 
 had the honor of your personal acquaintance; but, sir, you are not unknown 
 to us. You are known to \is as you are known to the world at large; but more 
 particularly are you known to us as the Unte friend of California, and as sucli 
 we are over proud to acknowledjio you. We thank you that you have taken 
 sufficient interest in our welfare to leave j'our homo in the great metropolis of 
 the East and wend your way across tlie vast plains and rugged mountains that 
 separate us, to visit us in our Western home. We tnist that, while you travel 
 tlirough our State, you may not be disappointed with the j>rogress which our 
 citizens have made during the short time allowed them. Perhaps you may be 
 aware, sir, that the place which you now behold as the city of Sacramento 
 was but little more than ten years ago a vast plain, with here and there a few 
 cloth tents, which were occupied by the hardy pioneers of the State. We to- 
 day in size claim to be the second city on the Pacific coast; our inhabitants 
 number not less than 15,000 ; we have a property valuation of nearly $ 10,000,000 ; 
 wo have erected comfortable dwellings for our families, and houses for places 
 of business; reared numerous and ample churches dedicated to the worship of 
 Almighty God, and established schools for the education of our children, — in 
 fact, we enjoy most of the blessings that our sister cities in the East may lay 
 claim to. The hospitalities of this our city I extend to you, and trust that 
 during your sojourn here we may be enabled to make your stay pleasant and 
 agreeable, so that when you return to your home in the I'^ast, and may have 
 occasion to refer in memory to the few days spent with us, your feelings may 
 be rather of pleasure than of regret. Now, sir, permit me again, in my own 
 behalf and in behalf of my fellow-citizens, to bid you a hearty and cordial 
 welcome to the City of the Plains, — the capital city of the Golden State.' 
 
 " The address was followed by a round of applause, after which Mr. Gi-eeley 
 spoke as follows : — 
 
 " ' Mk. Chairman: It was observed by a great Southern statesman that the 
 American Revolution was not that unnatural or chance struggle, not that 
 abnormal thing which we were disposed to think it. The Colony that 
 stepped ashore on Plymouth Rock were no longer a Colony, but a State, from 
 that hour. It is thus that American genius and American cultivation go be- 
 fore, and improvise the arts and a nation's polity. Ten years ago you were 
 here familiar with hangings and mob law. I was in London, and I well re- 
 member the remark of a British nobleman, that your course was the proper 
 ■working out of the old English law. Men must obey the voice of the commun- 
 ity, which is the law, in all cases; and, if they do not, they must suffer the 
 penalty of their ofTcnding equally in orderly as well as in disorderly states of 
 government. The progress you have made in carrying out your principles of 
 government successfully is your highest triumph. Rettor tlnjn your gold or 
 your thrift is the fact that here is a population, made up of Ncw-Englanders, 
 men of the South, foreign-born, natives of China and almost every part of the 
 globe, which gradually, through periods of disorder, you have reduced to the 
 best forms of enlightenment, crystallizing them, so to speak, in a perfect and 
 durable shape. 1 do think this is better than gold, for that the savages can dig 
 
COMMFNTS OF TIIF "SACRAMFNTO UKIOX." ' 4G7 
 
 Your schools, your clinrolies, nnd your obedience to the laws are your jrreatest 
 wealtli. And the secret of your success is, that labor here meets its just re- 
 ward. California labor rejoices in that assurance. I heard them talk of the 
 'want of capital' in California. I do not think cajiital is necessary. When 
 people want labor, and can get it, it is better than capital. [Applause.] Your 
 gold product gives assiiranco that the labor will always find this reward. At 
 the same time your gold gives an impulse to civilization, and I think it is safe 
 to promise that your State will increase until it becomes the most populous in 
 the Union. [Applause.] I came this long way not to see California alone. I 
 wanted to see those interesting spaces whore the most primitive forms of life 
 can be viewed and contrasted within the borders of our own Republic with the 
 highest civilization. I wish to .study men as I can see them in their cabins, 
 and to improve by obsei-vation what I have been denied acquiring through 
 books and the essays of wise men. I would gladly have come to your city as 
 any stranger, satisfied with meeting here and there an old acquaintance, and 
 so passed along without formality and public attention. I was aware that I 
 knew some among you, but I had no idea of meeting so many old friends. And 
 though I would have been glad to avoid a reception, still I cannot refuse to 
 meet you in such a way as you think proper. Gentlemen, I thank you for 
 your kindness. I have done.' [Applause.] 
 
 " A lai-ge number of citizens, at the conclusion of his speech, were introduced 
 to Mr. Greeley. All who have known him in the East remark that he has 
 never appeared so liearty and well as at present. Ho looked somewhat jaded 
 and dusty from his long ride, but showed no signs of weariness. The crowd 
 left him at 5i, and he was not disturbed until he was waited upon to accom- 
 pany a portion of the committee to a very handsome diimer. About twenty 
 guests sat down at 6i, and, after dispatching the meal in a business-like way, 
 Greeley was permitted to retire, and make ready for the evening's address. 
 From the rapidity with which this was done, it is fair to presume that ho had 
 only to get his hat. A few minutes after eight he- was on his way to Henton's 
 Church." At the church he delivered a very able and telling speech upon the 
 " Pacific Railroad." 
 
 COMMENTS OF THK "SACKAMENTO UNION." 
 
 " Greeley has come and gone. lie was here a little short of thirteen hours, 
 during which time ho held an informal levee, made a reception speech, partook 
 of a special dinner, delivered an address, saw something of the city, opened 
 and read his letters, partly aiTangod the programme of his journey through the 
 State, and took a sufficient night's rest to enable him to be up at five the next 
 morning, and take his seat in the stage which left the next hour for Grass Val- 
 ley, a journey of between sixty and seventy miles over a wearisome mountain 
 road. This despatch is characteristic of the man. His prompt, business-like 
 method, and his skill in crowding events into a narrow compass, not less than 
 his facility of compressing facts and arguments in a short, off-hand speech, 
 would commend him to popular admiration in this country, if he had no other 
 qualities to support his fame. His brief personal intercourse with our citizens 
 
468 ■ Acnoss the plains to California. 
 
 ■while here, and his practical suggestions on the Pacific Railroad, accompanied 
 by the earnest and forcible manner of their delivery, have made a favorable 
 impression in the community. At Folsom, where he was received by the 
 committee sent from this city, and where he volunteered a short address, the 
 crowd were at first sensibly moved to attempt a little good-humored joking at 
 the quaint personal appearance of the philosopher and his odd style of oratory, 
 but before he had finished his second or third sentence, their attention was 
 very eai'nestly on the speaker, and he was inten-upted as well as compli- 
 mented at the close, by hearty cheering. This good opinion appears to ex- 
 tend to all classes, if we except the ultra Southern politicians; and a general 
 wish is felt to hear further from this editor, who writes for, and is believed by 
 220,000 'subscribers,' and who has taken the field in person and in our midst, 
 a Peter the Hermit in enthusiasm for the Pacific Railroad. While this ' abo- 
 lition editor,' this 'wretched fanatic,' according to that moderate Locompton 
 organ, the ' San Francisco Herald,' is appealing to our national sympathies on 
 this railroad question, declaring that it is not a question of localities; that, 
 'whether it rims to New York, or to San Antonio, Texas (the favorite route of 
 tlie ' San Francisco Herald'), it would be all the same,' the contrast presented by 
 our Democratic Senator and Congressmen who are now addressing the people 
 is peculiarly striking. The one, strong in honest purpose, and full of neiwous 
 energy, pressing the need of this road, and the duty of our citizens toward the 
 government; the others not deigning to give even an explanation of their views 
 and the policy of thousands of our countrj'men in the East. Neither the 
 views nor the personal influence of our Lecompton delegates to the next Con- 
 gress will be of any practical benefit to the road, admitting (which we do not) 
 that they are its sincere and disinterested friends. 
 
 " The notable circumstance that the editor of the Tribune is endeavoring to 
 arouse the country in behalf of a Pacific Railroad immediately on his arrival 
 at the end of his long journey, almost before he has brushed the dust of travel 
 from his garments, will carry greater weight with it in the East than all Gwin 
 has ever said, or can say, in Congress. It will be personal testimony in favor 
 of tlie enterprise of the strongest kind." 
 
 VISIT TO THE YO SEMITK VALLEY. 
 
 "The night was clear and bright, as all summer nights in this 
 region are ; the atmosphere cool, but not really cold ; the moon had 
 risen before seven o'clock, and was shedding so much light as to 
 bother us in our forest path, where the shadow of a standing pine 
 looked exceedingly like the substance of a fallen one, and many 
 semblances were unreal and misleading. The safest course was to 
 give your horse a full rein, and trust to his sagacity or self-love for 
 keeping the trail. As we descended by zigzags the north face of 
 the all but perpendicular mountain, our moonlight soon left us, or 
 was present only by reflection from the opposite cliff. Soon the 
 
VISIT TO THE YO SEMITE VALLEY. 4G9 
 
 trail became at once so steep, so rough, and so tortuous, that we 
 all dismounted; but my attempt at walking proved a miserable 
 failure. I had been riding with a bad Mexican stirrup, which 
 barely admitted the toes of my left foot, and continual pressure on 
 these had sprained and swelled them so that walking was positive 
 torture. I persisted in the attempt till my companions insisted on 
 my remounting, and thus floundering slowly to the bottom. By 
 steady effort we descended the three miles (4,000 feet perpendicu- 
 lar) in two hours, and stood at midnight by the rushing, roaring 
 waters of the Mercede. 
 
 "That first full, deliberate gaze up the opposite height! can I 
 ever forget it? The valley is here scarely half a mile wide, while 
 its northern wall of mainly naked, perpendicular granite is at least 
 4,000 feet high, probably more. But the modicum of moonlight 
 that fell into this awful gorge gave to that precipice a vagueness 
 of outline, an indefinite vastness, a ghostly and weird spirituality. 
 Had the mountain spoken to me in audible voice, or begun to lean 
 over with the purpose of burying me beneath its crushing mass, I 
 should hardly have been surprised. Its whiteness, thrown into 
 bold relief by the patches of trees or shrubs which fringed or 
 flecked it wherever a few handfuls of its moss, slowly decomposed 
 to earth, could contrive to hold on, continually suggested the pres- 
 ence of snow, which suggestion, with difficulty refuted, was at 
 once renewed. And looking up the valley, we saw just such 
 mountain precipices, barely separated by intervening water-courses 
 (mainly dry at this season) of inconsiderable depth, and only re- 
 ceding sufficiently to make room for a very narrow meadow enclos- 
 ing the river, to the farthest limit of vision. 
 
 " We discussed the propriety of camping directly at the foot of 
 the pass, bu^ decided against it, because of the inadequacy of the 
 grass at this point for our tired, hungry beasts, and resolved to push 
 on to the nearest of the two houses in the valley, which was said 
 to be four miles distant. To my dying day I shall remember that 
 weary, interminable ride up the valley. We had been on foot since 
 daylight; it was now past midnight; all were nearly used up, and 
 I in torture from over eleven hours' steady riding on the hardest 
 trotting horse in America. Yet we pressed on and on, through 
 clumps of trees, and bits of forest, and patches of meadow, and over 
 hillocks of mountain debris, mainly granite boulders of every size, 
 
470 ACROSS THE PLAIXS TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 often nearly as round as cannon-balls, forming all but perpendicular 
 banks to the capricious torrent that brought them hither, — those 
 stupendous precipices on either side glaring down upon us all the 
 while. How many times our heavy eyes — I mean those of. my 
 San Francisco friend and my own — were lighted up by visions of 
 that intensely desired cabin, visions which seemed distinct and un- 
 mistakable, but which, alas ! a nearer view proved to be made up 
 of moonlight and shadow, rock and tree, into which they faded 
 one after another. It seemed at length that we should never reach 
 the cabin, and my wavering mind recalled elfish German stories of 
 the wild huntsman, and of men who, having accepted invitations to 
 a midnight chase, found on their return that said chase had been 
 prolonged till all their relatives and friends were dead, and no one 
 could be induced to recognize or recollect them. Gladly could I 
 have thrown myself recklessly from the saddle and lain where I 
 fell, till morning, but this would never answer, and we kept stead ■ 
 ily on : 
 
 ' Time and the hour wear out the longest day.' 
 
 " At length the reaZ cabin — one made of posts and beams and, 
 whipsawed boards, instead of rock and shadow and moonshine — 
 was reached, and we all eagerly dismounted, turning out our weary 
 steeds into abundant grass, and stirring up the astonished landlord, 
 who had never before received guests at that unseemly hour. (It 
 was after 1 A. M.) He made us welcome, however, to his best 
 accommodations, which would have found us lenient critics even 
 had they been worse, and I crept into my rude but clean bed so 
 soon as possible, while the rest awaited the preparation of some re- 
 freshment for the inner man. There was never a dainty that could 
 have tempted me to eat at that hour. I am told that none ever 
 before travelled from Bear Valley to the Yo Semite in one day, — I 
 am confident no greenhorns ever did. The distance can hardly 
 exceed thirty miles by an air line ; but only a bird could traverse 
 that line ; while, by way of Mariposa and the South Fork, it must 
 be fully sixty miles, with a rise and fall of not less than 20,000 feet. 
 
 "The Fall of the Yo Semite, so called, is a humbug. It is not the 
 Mercede River that makes this fall, but a mere tributary trout-brook, 
 which pitches in from the north by a barely once broken descent 
 of 2,600 feet, while the Mercede enters the valley at its eastern ex- 
 tremity, over falls of 600 and 250 feet. But a river thrice as large 
 
VISIT TO THE YO SKMITE VALLEY. 471 
 
 as the Merccde at this season would ho utterly dwarfed by all the 
 other accessories of this prodigious chasm. Only a Mississippi or a 
 Niagara could be adequate to their exactions. I readily concede 
 that a hundred times the present amount of water may roll down 
 the Yo Semite fall in the months of May atid June, when the snows 
 are melting from the central ranges of the Sierra Nevada, which 
 bound this abyss on the east; but this would not ad(^ a fraction to 
 the wonder of this vivid exemplification of the Divine power and 
 majesty. At present, the little stream that leaps down the Yo 
 Semite and is all but shattered to mist by the amazing descent, looks 
 more like a tape-line lot down from the cloud-capped height to 
 measure the depth of the abyss. The Yo Semite Valle]/ (or gorge) 
 is the most unique and majestic of Nature's marvels, but the Yo 
 Semite Fall is of little account. Were it absent, the valley would 
 not be perceptibly less worthy of a fatiguing visit. 
 
 " "We traversed the valley from end to end next day, but an ac- 
 cumulation of details on such a subject only serve to confuse and 
 blunt the observer's powers of perception and appreciation. Per- 
 haps the visitor who should be content with a long look into the 
 abyss from the most convenient height, without braving the toil of 
 a descent, would be wiser than all of us ; and yet that first glance 
 upward from the foot will long haunt me as more impressive than 
 any look downward from the summit could be. 
 
 " I shall not multiply details nor waste paper in noting all the 
 foohsh names which foolish people have given to different peaks or 
 turrets. Just think of two giant stone towers or pillars, which rise 
 a thousand feet above- the towering cliff which forms their base, 
 being styled ' The Two Sisters I ' Could anything be more mala- 
 droit and lackadaisical? 'The Dome' is a high, round, naked peak, 
 which rises between the Mercede and its little tributary from the 
 inmost recesses of the Sierra Nevada already instanced, and which 
 towers to an altitude of over five thousand feet above the waters 
 at its base. Picture to yourself a perpendicular wall of bare granite 
 nearly or quite one mile high ! Yet there are some dozen or score 
 of peaks in all, ranging from three thousand to five thousand feet 
 above the valley, and a biscuit tossed from any of them would strike 
 very near its base, and its fragments go bounding and falling still 
 farther. I certainly miss here the glaciers of Cliaiiiouni; but I 
 know no single wonder of Nature on earth which can claim a su- 
 
472 ACROSS THE PLAINS TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 periority over the Yo Semite. Just dream yourself for one hour 
 in a chasm nearly ten miles long, with egress for birds and water 
 out at either extremity, and none elsewhere save at three points, 
 up the face of precipices from three thousand to four thousand feet 
 high, the chasm scarcelj^ more than a mile wide at any point and 
 tapering to a mere gorge or canon at either end, with walls of 
 mainly naked and perpendicular white granite from three thousand 
 to five thousand feet high, so that looking up to the sky from it is 
 like looking out of an unfathomable profound, and you will have 
 some conception of the Yo Semite. 
 
 "We dined at two o'clock, and then rode leisurely doAvn the val- 
 ley, gazing by daylight at the wonders we had previously passed in 
 the night. The spectacle was immense, but I still think the moon- 
 light view the more impressive." 
 
 MR. GREELEY AT SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 At the chief cit}^ of California the editor of the Tribune was 
 again the guest of the people. The "Bulletin" thus described his 
 appearance at a public meeting. 
 
 " The Grand Pacific Eailroad mass meeting, which took place on the evening 
 of 17tli August, in front of the Oriental, on the occasion of the public appear- 
 ance in San Francisco of the Hon. Horace Greeley, was an imposing demon- 
 stration, and in all respects a decided success. By 7^ o'clock the people had 
 collected in vast numbers, and the plaza and street in front of the hotel were 
 crowded. There must have been, at a fair computation, five thousand people 
 present, and all manifested much interest in the gi'eat object for which the 
 meeting was called, and in the man who was to address them. 
 
 " The Oriental Hotel was brilliantly illuminated "for the occasion. Between 
 tlie pillars of the veranda were hung many Japanese lanterns, and the balus- 
 trades were filled with lamps. As it was known many ladies would be pres- 
 ent, seats were placed on the balcony for them ; and long before the speaking 
 commenced, these and the windows and rooms opening upon them were filled. 
 Among the ladies of the balcony, A. J. King, the stock-broker, happened to 
 be espied by the crowd, and loud cries of ' Put him out,' ' How 's your toe- 
 nails,' and other such expressions were heard, and for some time the audience 
 was very boisterous at the notorious broker's expense. This, however, was 
 before the meeting organized. 
 
 "At 8 o'clock Ira P. Rankin stepped forward upon the platform and nomi- 
 nated a president and officers of the meeting. 
 
 " As soon as the meeting was organized, Mr. Greeley made his appearance 
 upon the stand which had been erected in front of the hotel, and was raised 
 about six feet above the street. His appearance was greeted with prolonged 
 
MR. GKEFXEY AT SAN FRANCISCO. 473 
 
 cheers. Colonel Crockett stepped forward for the purpose of introducing the 
 speaker ; but the crowd was so anxious to see and hear Mr. (Jreeley, that 
 for a few minutes he could not be heard. The more distant portions of the 
 assembly cried, ' We cannot see Mr. Greeley,' ' Take the balcony,' ' We want 
 to see him.' Colonel Crockett replied that Mv. Greeley protested th.at he 
 could not be heard from the balcony. The crowd seemed determined that 
 they would see the speaker, and hurrahed and vociferated until the president 
 stated that Mr. Greeley would compromise by standing on the table. At this 
 proposition there was great applause, and order being restored, after a few 
 words of introduction by the president of the meeting, Mr. Greeley mounted 
 the table and stood up before the people, at which there were again hearty 
 and repeated cheers. Several firemen's torches were so disposed on the stand 
 as to throw their light upon him. 
 
 "The personal appearance of Mr. Greeley is familiar to many of our read- 
 ers. He is above the medium height, rather thin, and has a slight stoop. His 
 head is bald, with the exception of light flaxen locks at the sides and back. 
 Though nearly fifty years of age, there are no wTiukles in his face ; on the 
 contrary, his features, except for his baldness, would indicate quite a young 
 man. There is a peculiar brightness in his eyes, and the general expression 
 of his face is mildness and benignity. His dress, last evening, after drawing 
 off his drab overcoat (from which the mountaineers cut ofi'all the buttons), 
 •was plain black with a light neckcloth. The famous white hat had been 
 exchanged for one of dun-colored wool. His late journey across the plains, 
 although it fiitigued him much, has made him weigh more thim ordinarDy, 
 and has given him a fresh and hale appearance." 
 
 The speech was eminently successful. "With his last word," 
 said the "Bulletin," Mr. G-reeley " turned to descend the table upon 
 which he had been standing, while the crowd cheered and hurrahed 
 to the extent of their lungs. He had spoken for very nearly an 
 hour, in a remarkably clear, correct, and agreeable tone of voice. 
 In many parts of his discourse, and particularly toward the close, 
 he was eloquent, and made the most happy impression upon the 
 audience. Indeed, he exceeded the anticipations of those who 
 were well acquainted with his abilities as a public speaker." 
 
 He delivered also a remarkably excellent address before the 
 " Mechanics' Institute " of San Francisco. To the pupils of the 
 High School, and to those of one of the grammar schools he ad- 
 dressed a few wise and impressive words. 
 
 It would be difficult to overestimate the happy influence of Mr. 
 Greeley's visit upon the forming character of California. He gave 
 an impulse to all good tendencies, and strengthened the position of 
 every man who was in harmony with them. " Remember, my 
 
474 ACROSS THE PLAINS TO CALIFORXIA. 
 
 friends," said lie at the close of an agricultural address, "remember 
 that the end of all true agricultin-e, as well as of effort in other di- 
 rections, is the growth and perfection of the human race. Vain is 
 all other progress unless the human race progresses in knowledge, 
 in industry, in temperance, and in virtue; and when this end is at- 
 tained, no other need be despaired of. Let us reraembej- this, and 
 in all our fairs, in our festivals, in our gatherings, ask : ' Have the 
 people around us grown in knowledge ? Are our schools better, 
 our people better educated, more intelligent, more virtuous than 
 they were thirty or ten years ago ? ' If they are, we may rejoice 
 and feel confident that agriculture and all other useful arts will go 
 forward hand in hand." 
 
 To the Mechanics' Institute of San Francisco he said : — 
 " The new idea of our time is founded upon a better understand- 
 ing of the law of G-od and humanity. It recognizes all useful labor 
 as essentially laudable and honorable, — the greater honor where 
 there is the greater proficiency. The digger who makes the thou- 
 sandth part of a canal is not of honor equal to the scientific engi- 
 neer who fully accomplishes the work of its construction. More 
 honor with greater intelligence, but honor to each in his degree, 
 but the larger honor is due to liim who accomplishes the greater 
 result. Simply manual labor can never achieve the highest re- 
 ward, nor command the greatest regard. Hand and head must 
 work together. To accomplish great results the laborer must be in- 
 telligent and educated. In this country, the price of labor is com- 
 paratively high, and yet it is a question whether it is not, on the 
 whole, cheaper in the end than elsewhere. Nicholas Biddle, and 
 other distinguished thinkers upon the subject, assorted that Ameri- 
 can labor at a higher price was cheaper than the labor of Spain or 
 most other countries at almost nominal rates. In building the bed 
 of a railroad, for instance, it is found cheaper with American labor, 
 or labor under their guidance and direction, than with any other. 
 This is proved by the fact that railroads can be built in America at 
 one sixth part of the cost of constructing them in Italy, and I be- 
 lieve, in Ireland also. Labor, as it becomes better educated, will 
 also become more effective, and when it receives its double reward, 
 it will be more profitable." 
 
 Nor did he omit, in view of the coming struggle in politics, to 
 expound the principles of the Republican party, and lay bare the 
 
MR. GREELEY AT SAN FRANCISCO. 475 
 
 designs of the rulers of the South. His political addresses added to 
 the strength of the Republicans in California, and made their tri- 
 flmph easier. 
 
 Returning homeward by way of Panama, Mr. Greeley reached 
 New York on the 28th of September, after an absence of nearly 
 five months. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 HORACE GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTION 
 OF 1860. 
 
 Mr. Greeley's reasons for opposing Mr. Seward — Mr. Raymond's accusation — The private 
 letter to Mr. Seward — The comments of Thurlow Weed— The tliree-cent stamp corre- 
 spondence—Mr. Greeley a candidate for the Senate— He declines a seat in Mr. Lincoln's 
 Tabernacle. 
 
 On the 16th of May, 1860, a National Convention of the Repub- 
 lican party met at Chicago for the purpose of nominating candidates 
 for the Presidency and Vice-Presidency. Mr. Greeley attended the 
 Convention as a delegate from Oregon. The general expectation 
 was that Mr. Seward would receive the nomination for the first 
 office. He was set aside, however, and Abraham Lincoln became 
 the candidate of the party. The person chiefly instrumental in 
 frustrating the hopes of Mr. Seward's friends was the editor of the 
 Tribune. At least we may say, with the utmost confidence, that, 
 had Mr. Greeley, in his newspaper and at Chicago, given a hearty 
 support to Mr. Seward, that gentleman would have been nomi- 
 nated. Mr. Greeley's reasons for his course on this memorable 
 occasion were stated by himself as follows : — 
 
 "My mind had been long before deliberately made up that the 
 nomination of Governor Seward for President was unadvisable 
 and unsafe ; yet I had resolved to avoid this Convention for obvi- 
 ous reasons. But when, some four or five weeks since, I received 
 letters from Oregon, apprising me that, of the six delegates ap- 
 pointed and fully expecting to attend from that State, but two 
 would be able to do so, on account of the very brief notice they 
 had of the change of time of holding the Convention, and that Mr. 
 Leander Holmes, one of those who had been appointed, and clothed 
 with full power of substitution, had appointed and requested me 
 to act in his stead, I did not feel at liberty to refuse the duty thus 
 imposed on me. Of the four letters that simultaneously reached 
 me, — one from Mr. Holmes, another from Mr. Corbitt, chairman 
 of the Republican State Committee, a third from the editor of a lead- 
 ing Republican journal, and the fourth from an eminent ex-editor, 
 
GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTION OF 18C0. -177 
 
 — at least three indicated Judge Bates as the decided choice of 
 Oregon for President, and the man who would be most "likely to 
 carry it, — a very natural preference, since a large proportion of 
 the people of Oregon emigrated from Missouri. One of them sug- 
 gested Mr. Lincoln as also a favorite, many Illinoisans being now 
 settled in Oregon. 
 
 "I went to Chicago to do my best to nominate Judge Bates, 
 unless facts there developed should clearly render another choice 
 advisable. I deemed Judge Bates the very man to satisfy and 
 attract the great body of conservative and quiet voters who have 
 hitherto stood aloof from the Republican organization, not because 
 they dissent from our principles, but because they have been taught 
 to distrust and hate us on other grounds. I deemed him the man 
 whose election would, while securing the devotion of the Territo- 
 ries to free labor, conciliate and calm the Slave States in view of a 
 Republican ascendency. But, more than all, I felt that the nomi- 
 nation of Judge Bates would have given a basis and an impetus to 
 the emancipation cause in Missouri which would nevermore have 
 been arrested. And now, when all the world is raining bouquets 
 on the successful nominee, so that, if he were not a very tall man, 
 he might stand a chance to be smothered under them ; when thou- 
 sands are rushing to bore him out of house and home, and snowing 
 him white with letters, and trying to plaster him all over with their 
 advertising placards, I, who knew and esteemed him ten years ago, 
 reiterate that I think Judge Bates, to whom I never spoke nor wrote, 
 would have been the wiser choice. I say this, knowing well that 
 his nomination would have fallen like a wet blanket on nearly the 
 whole party, that thousands would have sworn never to support it, 
 and that counter-nominations would have been got up, or seriously 
 threatened. But I kept my eye steadily on the fact that the first 
 and only summer election that is to be hold in a State that we 
 could in any event hope to carry is that of Missouri, where the Re- 
 publicans all earnestly desired the selection of their loved and hon- 
 ored fellow-citizen, and where thousands not Republicans were 
 ready and eager to co-operate with them in case of his nomination. 
 I do not know that they could have carried their State in August; 
 but they confidently thought they could, and would at all events 
 have made a desperate eOTort. And that effort, even though de- 
 feated, would have shown a result most inspiriting to Republicans 
 
478 GKEFXEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVEXTIOX OF I860. 
 
 everywhere, and especially propitious to the free-labor cause in 
 Missouri. Tht-re is no truer, more faithful, more deserving Repub- 
 lican than Abraham Lincoln ; probably no nomination could have 
 been made more conducive to a certain triumph; and yet I feel 
 that the selection of Edward Bates would have been more far- 
 sighted, more eourageous, more magnanimous." 
 
 Mr. Greeley proceeded to state that the true cause of Mr. Sew- 
 ard's defeat was, not his own opposition to him, but the conviction, 
 on the part of the delegates from New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and 
 Indiana, that the nomination of Mr. Seward would jeopardize the 
 election in those States. 
 
 This article in the Tribune elicited a reply from Mr. Henry J. 
 Raymond. On his return from the Chicago Convention Mr. Ray- 
 mond visited his friend Seward at Auburn, where he wrote a let- 
 ter to the New York Times, commenting upon Mr. Greeley's con- 
 duct with severity, and attributing it to personal motives. The 
 following is the material part of his letter : — 
 
 " I observe that to-day's Tribune contains a long personal explanation from 
 Mr. Greeley of the part which he took in the action of the Chicago Convention. 
 It is never easy for a public man to be the historian of his own exploits. If 
 he be a vain man, he will exaggerate his personal influence; if he be an over- 
 modest one, he will underrate it. It is scarcely necessary to say that Mr. 
 Greeley has fallen into the latter mistake. With the generosity which be- 
 longs to his nature, and which a feeling not unlike remorse may have stimu- 
 lated into unwonted activity, he awards to othei's the credit which belongs 
 transcendently to himself. The main work of the Chicago Convention was 
 the defeat of Governor Seward ; that was the only specific and distinct object 
 towards which its conscious efforts were directed. The nomination which it 
 finally made was purely an accident, decided far more by the shouts and ap- 
 plause of the vast concourse which dominated the Convention, than by any 
 direct labors of any of the delegates. The great point aimed at was Jlr. Sew- 
 ard's defeat ; and in that endeavor Mr. Greeley labored harder, and did ten- 
 fold more, than the whole fiimily of Blairs, together with all the gubernato- 
 rial candidates, to whom he modestly hands over the honors of the effective 
 campaign. He had special qualifications, as well as a special love for the task, 
 to which none of the others could lay any claim. For twenty years he had 
 been sustaining the political principles and vindicating the political conduct 
 of Mr. Seward, tlu-ough the cohunns of the most influential political news- 
 paper in the country. He had infused into the popular mind, especially 
 throughout the Western States, the most profound and thorough devotion to the 
 antislavery sentiments which had given character to Mr. Seward's public ca- 
 reer ; he had vindicated his opinions upon naturalization and upon the organ- 
 ization of the Know-Nothing party from the assaults made upon them ; lie 
 
MR. RAYMOND'S ACCUSATIOy. 479 
 
 had urged his ro-elcction to the Senate in the face of all the sentiments whicl 
 had made him obnoxious to a portion of his constituents ; he had gone far be 
 yond liim in expressions of hostility to slavery, in palliation of armed attempts 
 for its overthrow, and in assaults upon that clause of the Constitution which 
 requires the surrender of fugitive slaves ; and he was known to have been for 
 more than twenty years his personal friend and political supporter. These 
 things gave him a hold upon the Republican sentiment of the country, and a 
 weight of authority in everything relating to Governor Seward to which 
 neither ' old Blair of the Globe,' as Jlr. Greeley styles him, nor both his sons, 
 could for a moment lay claim. His voice was potential precisely where Gov- 
 ernor Seward was strongest, — because it was supposed to be that of a friend, 
 sti-oag in his personal attachment and devotion, and driven into opposition on 
 this occasion solely by the despairing conviction that the welfare of the coun- 
 try and the triumph of the Republican canse demanded the sacrifice. For 
 more than six months, through the columns of the Tribune, Mr. Greeley had 
 been preparing the way for this consummation. Doubts of Mr. Seward's pop- 
 ular strength, — insinuated rather than openly uttered, — exaggerations of 
 local prejudice and animosity against him ; hints that parties and men hostile 
 to him and to the Republican organization must be conciliated, and their sup- 
 port secured ; and a new-born zeal for nationalizing the party by consulting 
 the slaveholding States in regard to the nomination, — had filled the public mind 
 with a distrast which had already done much to demoralize the Republican 
 party, and prepare the minds of its delegates in convention for the personal rep- 
 resentations and appeals by which these agencies were followed up. Mr. Gree- 
 ley was in Chicago several days before the meeting of the Convention, and he 
 devoted every hour of the interval to the most steady and relentless prosecu- 
 tion of the main business which took him tliither, — the defeat of Governor 
 Seward. He labored personally with tiio delegates as they arrived, — com- 
 mending himself always to their confidence by professions of regard and the 
 most zealous friendship for Governor Seward, but presenting defeat, even in 
 New York, as the inevitable result of his nomination. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley was largely indebted to the forbearance of those upon whom 
 he was waging this warfare for the means of making it effectual. While it 
 was known to some of them that, uearly six years ago — in November, 1854 
 — he had privately, but distinctly, repudiated all further political friendship 
 for and alliance with Governor Seward, and menaced him with his hostility 
 whenever it could be made most eft'ectivc, for the avowed reason that Gover- 
 nor Seward had never aided or advised his elevation to oflice ; that ho had 
 never recognized his claim to such ofiicial promotion, but had tolerated the 
 elevation of men known to be obnoxious to him, and who had rendered far 
 less sei-vice to the party than he had done, — no use was m:ulc of this knowl- 
 edge in quarters where it would have disarmed tlie deadly effect of his pretended 
 friemkhip for the man upon whom he ions thus deliberatehj icreakhig the hng- 
 hoarded reventje of a disappointed office-seeker. He was still allowed to repre- 
 sent to the delegations from Vermont, New Hampshire, Ohio, Indiana, and 
 other States known to be in favor of Governor Seward's nomination, that, 
 
480 GRKELKY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTION OF 1860k 
 
 while lie desired it upon the strongest grounds of personal and political friend- 
 ship, he believed it would be fatal to the success of the cause. Bting thus 
 stimulated by a Imtred lie had secretly cherished for yeai's, — protected by the 
 forbearance of those whom he assailed, and strong in the confidence cf those 
 upon whom he sought to operate, — it is not strange that Mr. Greeley's efforts 
 should have been crowned with success. But it is perfectly safe to say that 
 no other man — certainly no one occupying a position less favorable for such 
 an assault — could possibly have accomplished that result. 
 
 "We deem it only just to Mr. Greeley thus early to award him the full 
 credit for the main result of the Chicago Convention, because his own modesty 
 will prevent his claiming it, — at all events until the new Republican adminis- 
 tration shall be in position to distribute its rewards. It is not right that merit 
 so conspicuous should remain so long in the shade. Even the most transcen- 
 dent services are in danger of being forgotten, in the tumult and confusion of 
 a contested election ; and we cheerfully tender, for Mr. Greeley's use, this 
 record of his deserts, when he may claim at the hands of his new associates 
 that paj-ment for lack of which he has deserted and betrayed his old ones. 
 
 " I have said above, that the final selection of Lincoln as the candidate was 
 a matter of accident. I mean by this that, down to the time of taking the first 
 ballot, there had been no agreement among the opponents of Seward as to the 
 candidate upon whom they should unite. The first distinct impression in 
 Lincoln's favor was made by the tremendous applause which arose from the 
 ten thousand- persons congi'egated in the Wigwam, upon the pi'esentation of 
 his name as a candidate, and by the echo it received from the still larger 
 gathering in the street outside. The arrangements for the Convention were in 
 the hands of Mr. I>incoln's friends, and they had been made with special ref- 
 erence to securing the largest possible concourse of his immediate neighbors 
 and political supporters. It was easy to see that the thundei'ing shouts which 
 greeted every vote given for him impressed what Mr. Greeley calls the ' rag- 
 ged columns forming the opposing host,' with the conviction that he was the 
 only man with whom Jlr. Seward could be defeated. Vermont, whose dele- 
 gates would have been peremptorily instructed to vote for Seward if there had 
 been the slightest apprehension on the part of their constituents that they could 
 do otherwise, was the first to catch the contagious impulse ; and throughout 
 the second ballot the etTorts of other States to resist the current which del- 
 uged the Convention from without were but partially successful. On the 
 third ballot the outsiders had it all their own way. Upon the first call Lin- 
 coln lacked only two and a half votes of a nomination. Ohio was the first to 
 clutch at the honor of deciding the choice ; and thenceforward the only ap- 
 prehension on the part of ilelegates seemed to be that they would not be regis- 
 tered on the winning side. The final concentration upon Lincoln was then 
 mainly, in my judgment, a matter of impulse." 
 
 The read?r will have observed, from the sentences of this letter 
 printed in Italics, that Mr. Raymond refers to a private letter of 
 the editor of the Tribune, written in November, 1854, to Mr 
 
HORACE GHEELEY TO WILLIAM H. SEWARD. 481 
 
 Seward, in which Mr. Grcolej^ was said to have renoiiiicod poHtical 
 friondsliip with the Rcpubhcan cliiei; and to have menaced him 
 with hostility. Mr. Greeley instantly demanded the letter for 
 })ublioation in every edition of the Tribune. After some dehay the 
 letter was i)roduced and immediately published. The following is 
 a copy of it: — 
 
 HORACE GREELEY TO WILLIAM H. SEWARD. 
 
 "New York, wSaturday eve., Nov. 11, 1854. 
 
 "Governor Seward: — The election is over, and its results suffi- 
 ciently ascertained. It seems to me a fitting time to annonnce to 
 you the dissolution of the political firm of Seward, Weed, and Gree- 
 ley, by the withdrawal of the junior partner, — said withdrawal to 
 take efiect on the morning after the first Tuesday in February next.* 
 And, as it may seem a great presumption in me to assume that any 
 such firm exists, especially since the public was advised, rather more 
 than a year ago, by an editorial rescript in the Evening Journal, for- 
 mally reading me out of the Whig party, that I was esteemed no 
 longer either useful or ornamental in the concern, you "will, I am 
 sure, indulge me in some reminiscences which seem to befit the 
 occasion. 
 
 "I was a poor young printer and editor of a literary journal, — a 
 very active and bitter Whig in a small way, but not seeking to be 
 known out of my own ward committee, — when, after the great 
 political revulsion of 1837, I was one day called to the City Hotel, 
 where two strangers introduced themselves as Thurlow Weed and 
 Lewis Benedict of Albany. They told me that a cheap campaign 
 paper of a peculiar stamp at Albany had been resolved on, and that 
 I had been selected to edit it. The announcement might well be 
 deemed flattering by one who had never even sought the notice of 
 the great, and who was not known as a partisan writer, and I 
 eagerly embraced their proposals. They asked me to fix my salary 
 for the year; I named $1,000, which they agreed to; and I did the 
 work required to the best of my ability. It was work that made 
 no figure and created no sensation; but I loved it, and I did it weU. 
 
 • Tho day on which the re-election of Mr. Seward to tlie Senate was ex- 
 pected to occur, and on which it did occur, with the Tribune's assent and 
 support. — *J. P. 
 
 21 SB 
 
482 GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO COXVENTION OF I860. 
 
 When it was done, you were Governor, dispensing ofl&ces worth 
 $3,000 to $20,000 per year to your friends and compatriots, and I 
 returned to my garret and my crust, and ray desperate battle with 
 pecuniary obligations heaped upon me by bad partners in business 
 and the disastrous events of 1837. I believe it did not then occur 
 to me that some one of these abundant places might have been of- 
 fered to me without injustice ; I now think it should have occurred 
 to you. If it did occur to me, I was not the man to ask you for it; 
 I think that should not have been necessary. I only remember that 
 no friend at Albany inquired as to my pecuniary circumstances , 
 that your friend (but not mine) Eobert C. Wetmore was one of the 
 chief dispensers of your patronage here ; and that such devoted 
 compatriots as A. H. Wells and John Hooks were lifted by you out 
 of pauperism into independence, as I am glad I was not ; and yet 
 an inquiry from you as to my needs and means at that time would 
 have been timely, and held ever in grateful remembrance. 
 
 "In the Harrison campaign of 1840 I was again designated to 
 edit a campaign paper. I published it as well, and ought to have 
 made something by it, in spite of its extremely low price; my ex- 
 treme poverty was the main reason why I did not. It compelled 
 me to hire press-work, mailing, &c., done by the job, and high 
 charges for extra work nearly ate me up. At the close, I was still 
 without property and in debt, but this paper had rather improved 
 my position. 
 
 "Now came the great scramble of the swell mob of coon min- 
 strels and cider-suckers at Washington, — I not being counted in. 
 Several regiments of them went on from this city; but no one of 
 the whole crowd, though I say it who should not, had done so 
 much toward General Harrison's nomination and election as yours 
 respectfully. I asked nothing, expected nothing; but you. Gov- 
 ernor Seward, ought to have asked that I be postmaster of New 
 York. Your aslcing would have been in vain ; but it would have 
 been an act of grace neither wasted nor undeserved. 
 
 " I soon after started the Tribune, because I was urged to do so 
 by certain of your friends, and because such a paper was needed 
 here. I was promised certain pecuniary aid in so doing ; it might 
 have been given me without cost or risk to any one. All I ever 
 had was a loan by piecemeal of $ 1,000 from James Coggeshall, — 
 God bless his honored memory ! I did not ask for this, aad I think 
 
HORACE GREELKY TO 'WII.LIAM TI. SEWARD. 483 
 
 it is the one sole case in which I ever received a pecuniary favor 
 from a pohtical associate. I am very thankful that he did not die 
 till it was fully repaid. 
 
 "And let me here honor one grateful recollection. When the 
 Whig party under your rule had oflices to give my name was 
 never thought of; but when, in 1842-43, we wore hopelessly out 
 of power, I was honored with the party nomination for State 
 Printer. When we came again to have a State Printer to elect as 
 well as nominate, the place went to Weed, as it ought. Yet it is 
 worth something to know that there was once a time when it was 
 not deemed too great a sacrifice to recognize me as belonging to 
 your household. If a new office had not since been created on 
 purpose to give its valuable patronage to H. J. Raymond and en- 
 able St. John to show forth his ' Times ' as the organ of the Whig 
 State Administration, I should have been still more grateful. 
 
 "In 1848 your star again rose, and my warmest hopes were real- 
 ized in your election to the Senate. I was no longer needy, and 
 had no more claim than desire to be recognized by G-eneral Taylor. 
 I think I had some claim to forbearance from you. What I re- 
 ceived thereupon was a most humiliating lecture in the shape of a 
 decision in the libel case of Redfield and Pringle, and an obligation 
 to publish it in my own and the other journal of our supposed firm. 
 I thought and still think this lecture needlessly cruel and mortifying. 
 The plaintiffs, after using my columns to the extent of their needs 
 or desires, stopped writing, and called on me for the name of their 
 assailant. I proffered it to them, — a thoroughly responsible name. 
 They refused to accept it, unless it should prove to be one of the 
 four or five first men in Batavia! — when they had known from 
 the first who it was, and that it was neither of them. They would 
 not accept that which they had demanded ; they sued me instead 
 for money, and money you were at liberty to give them to your 
 heart's content. I do not think you were at liberty to humiliate me 
 in the eyes of my own and your * public as you did. I think you 
 exalted your own judicial sternness and fearlessness unduly at my 
 expense. I think you had a better occasion for the display of these 
 qualities, when Webb threw himself untimely upon you for a par- 
 
 ♦ " If I am not mistaken, this judgment is the only speech, letter, or docu- 
 ment addressed to the public in which yon ever recognized my existence. 1 
 hope I may not go down to posterity as embalmed therein." 
 
484 GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTION OF 1860. 
 
 don Avliich he had done all a man could do to demerit. (His paper 
 is paying you for it now.) 
 
 " I have publicly set forth my view of your and our duty with 
 respect to fusion, Nebraska, and party designations. I will not 
 repeat any of that. I have referred also to Weed's reading me out 
 of the Whig party, — my crime being, in this as in some other 
 things, that of doing to-day what more politic persons will not be 
 ready to do till to-morrow. 
 
 "Let me speak of the late canvass. I was once sent to Congress 
 for ninety days, merely to enable Jim Brooks to secure a seat 
 therein for four years. I think I never hinted to any human being 
 that I Avould have liked to be put forward for any place. But 
 James W. White (you hardly know how good and true a man he 
 is) started my name for Congress, and Brooks's packed delegation 
 thought I could help him through; so I was put on behind him. 
 But this last spring, after the Nebraska question had created a new 
 state of things at the North, one or two personal friends, of no po- 
 htical consideration, suggested my name as a candidate for Gover- 
 nor, and I did not discourage them. Soon, the persons who were 
 afterward mainly instrumental in nominating Clark came about me, 
 and asked if I could secure the Know-Nothing vote. I told them 
 I neither could nor would touch it; on the contrary, I loathed 
 and repelled it. Thereupon they turned upon Clark. 
 
 " I said nothing, did nothing. A hundred people asked me who 
 should be run for Governor. I sometimes indicated Patterson ; I 
 never hinted at my own name. But by and by Weed came down 
 and called me to him, to tell me why he could not support me for 
 Governor. (I had never asked nor counted on his support.) 
 
 "I am sure Weed did not mean to humiliate me; but he did it. 
 The upshot of his discourse (very cautiously stated) was this : If I 
 were a candidate for Governor, I should beat, not myself only, but 
 you. Perhaps that was true. But as I had in no manner solicited 
 his or your support, I thought this might have been said to my 
 friends rather than to me. I suspect it is true that I could not 
 have been elected Governor as a Whig. But had he and you been 
 favorable, there icould have been a party in the State ere this which 
 could and would have elected me to any post, without injuring 
 itself or endangering your re-election. 
 
 " It was in vain that I urged that I had in no manner asked a 
 
HORACE GREELEY TO WILLIAM U. SEWARD. 485 
 
 nomination. At length I was nettled by his language — well in- 
 tended, but fer^ cutting as addressed by him to me — to say, in 
 substance, ' Well, then, make Patterson Governor, and try my 
 name for Lieutenant. To lose this place is a matter of no impor- 
 tance ; and we can see whether I am really so odious.' 
 
 " I should have hated to serve as Lieutenant-Governor, but I 
 should have gloried in running for the post. I want to have my 
 enemies all upon me at once ; I am tired of fighting them piece- 
 meal. And, though I should have been beaten in the canvass, I 
 know that my running would have helped the ticket, and helped 
 my paper. 
 
 " It was thought best to let the matter take another course. No 
 other name could have been put on the ticket so bitterly humbling 
 to me as that which was selected. The nomination was given to 
 Raymond; the fight left to me. And, Governor Seward, / have 
 made if, though it be conceited in me to say so. What little fight 
 there has been I have stirred up. Even Weed has not been (I 
 speak of his paper) hearty in this contest, Avhile the journal of the 
 Whig Lieutenant-Governor has taken care of its own interests and 
 let the canvass take care of itself, as it early declared it would do. 
 That journal has (Ijecause of its milk-and-water course) some 
 twenty thousand subscribers in this city and its suburbs, and, of 
 these twenty thousand, I venture to say more voted for Ullmann 
 and Scroggs than for Clark and Raymond ; the Tribune (also be- 
 cause of its character) has but eight thousand subscribers within 
 the same radius, and I venture to say that of its habitual readers 
 nine tenths voted for Clark and Raymond, — very few for Ullmann 
 and Scroggs. I had to bear the brunt of the contest, and take a 
 terrible responsibility in order to prevent the Whigs uniting upon 
 James W. Barker in order to defeat Fernando Wood. Had Barker 
 been elected here, neither you nor I could walk these streets with- 
 out being hooted, and Know-Nothingism would have swept hke a 
 prairie-fire. I stopped Barker's election at the cost of incurring 
 the deadliest enmity of the defeated gang; and I have been re- 
 buked for it by the Lieutenant-Governor's paper. At the critical 
 moment, he came out against John Wheeler in favor of Charles H. 
 Marshall (who would have been your deadhest enemy in the 
 House), and even your Colonel General's paper, which was even 
 with me in insisting that Wheeler should be returned, wheeled 
 
486 GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTION OF I860. 
 
 about at the last moment and went in for Marshall, — the Tribune 
 alone clinging to Wheeler till the last. I rejoice that they who 
 turned so suddenly were not able to turn all their readers. 
 
 " Grovernor Seward, I know that some of your most cherished 
 friends think me a great obstacle to your advancement; that 
 John Schoolcraft, for one, insists that you and Weed shall not be 
 identified with me. I trust, after a time, you will not be. I trust 
 I shall never be found in opposition to you; I have no further wish 
 but to glide out of the newspaper world as quietly and as speedily 
 as possible, join my family in Europe, and if possible stay there 
 quite a time, — long enough to cool my fevered brain and renovate 
 my overtasked energies. All I ask is that we shall be counted 
 even on the morning after the first Tuesday in February, as afore- 
 said, and that I may thereafter take such course as seems best 
 without reference to the past. 
 
 " You have done me acts of valued kindness in the line of your 
 profession : let me close with the assurance that these will ever be 
 gratefully remembered by Yours, 
 
 "Horace Greeley. 
 
 " Hon. William H. Seward, present." 
 
 Tn commenting upon this letter, Mr. Greeley contended that it 
 did not justify the accusation that his motive in opposing Mr. Sew- 
 ard was personal, stiU less malignant. He concluded his remarks 
 upon it in the following terms : — 
 
 " A single word of improvement to the young and ardent politi- 
 cians who may read my letter and this comment. The moral I would 
 inculcate is a trite one, but none the less important. It is summed 
 up in the Scriptural injunction, 'Put not your trust in princes.' 
 Men, even the best, are frail and mutable, while principle is sure 
 and eternal. Be no man's man but Truth's and your country's. 
 You will be sorely tempted at times to take this or that great man 
 for your oracle and guide, — it is easy and tempting to lean, to fol- 
 low, and to trust, — but it is safer and wiser to look ever through 
 your own eyes, to tread your own path, to trust implicitly in 
 God alone. The atmosphere is a little warmer inside some great 
 man's castle, but the free air of heaven is ever so much purer and 
 more bracing. My active political life may bo said to have begun 
 with Governor Seward's appearance on the broader stage ; for I 
 edited my first political sheet (The Constitution) in 1834, when 
 
COMMENTS OF THURI.OW WEKD. 487 
 
 he was first a candidate for Governor, and I very ardently labored 
 in 1854 to secure his re-election to the Senate. Thenceforward I 
 have had no idol, but have acted without personal bias as the high- 
 est public good has from time to time seemed to me to demand. 
 I have differed frankly with Governor Seward on some financial 
 points; but I think have uttered more praise with less blame of 
 him than of any other living statesman. I have been reminded of 
 late that the Tribune has once or twice seemed to resent his treat- 
 ment in the Senate of Rust's assault on me ; but 1 certainly never 
 alluded to that, and I am confident that the strictures instanced 
 must have been published while I was absent from the city. The 
 matter never seemed to me worth a paragraph. And if ever in my 
 life I discharged a public duty in utter disregard of personal con- 
 siderations, I did so at Chicago last month. I was no longer a 
 devotee of Governor Seward; but I was equally independent of 
 all others; and if I had been swayed by feeling alone, I should 
 have, for many reasons, preferred him to any of his competitors. 
 Our personal intercourse, as well since as before my letter herewith 
 published, had always bcea frank and kindly, and I was n-ever in- 
 sensible to his many good and some great qualities, both of head 
 and heart. But I did not and do not believe it advisable that he 
 should be the Republican candidate for President; and I acted in 
 full accordance with ray dehberate convictions. Need I add, that 
 each subsequent day's developments liavo tended to strengthen my 
 confidence that what I did was not only well meant, but well 
 done?" 
 
 And now, having given Mr. Greeley's version of this painful con- 
 troversy, it is proper to give that of another partner in the pohtical 
 firm, Mr. Thurlow Weed, then the editor of the Albany Evening 
 Journal. 
 
 TIIURLOW WEED ON HORACE GREELEY'S LETTER 
 TO MR. SEWARD. 
 
 " There are some things in this letter requiring explanation, — all things in 
 it, indeed, are susceptible of explanations consistent witli Governor Seward's 
 full appreciation of Mr. Greeley's friendship and services. The letter was 
 evidently written under a morbid state of fceling,.and it is less a matter of 
 surprise tliat such a letter was thus written, than that its writer should not 
 only cherish the ill-will that prornjited it, for six years, but allow it*to influ- 
 ence his action upon a question which concerns his party and his country. 
 
488 GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTION OP 1860. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley's first complaint is that this journal, in an ' editorial rescript, 
 formally read me [him] out of the Whig party.^ 
 
 " Now here is the 'editorial rescript formally reading ' Mr. Greeley out of 
 the Whig party. 
 
 " [From the Evening Journal of Sept. 6, 1853.] 
 
 " ' The Tribune defines its position in reference to the approaching election. 
 Regarding the " Maine Law" as a question of paramount importance, it will 
 support members of the Legislature friendly to its passage, irrespective of 
 party. 
 
 " ' For State officers the Tribune will support such men as it deems compe- 
 tent and ti-ustworthy, irrespective also of party, and without regard to the 
 " Maine Law." 
 
 " ' In a word, the Tribune avows itself, for the present, if not forever, an 
 independent journal (it was pretty much so always), discarding party "usages, 
 mandates, and platforms." 
 
 " ' We regret to lose, in the Tribune, an old, able, and efficient colaborer 
 in the Whig vineyard. But when carried away by its convictions of duty to 
 others, and, in its judgment, higher and more beneficent objects, we have as 
 little right as inclination to complain. The Tribune takes with it, wher- 
 ever it goes, an indomitable and powerful pen, a devoted, a noble, and an un- 
 selfish zeal. Its senior editor evidently supposes himself permanently di- 
 vorced from the Whig party, but we shall be disappointed if, after a year or 
 two's sturdy pulling at the oar of Reform, he does not retuni to his long-cher- 
 ished belief that great and beneficent aims must continue, aa they commenced, 
 to be wrought out through Whig instrumentalities. 
 
 " ' But we only intended to say that the Tribune openly and frankly avows 
 its intention and policy; and that in things about which we cannot agree, we 
 can and will disagree as friends.' 
 
 " Pray read this article again, if its purpose and import be not clearly under- 
 stood ! At the time it appeai-ed, the Tribune was under high-pressure ' Maine- 
 Law ' speed. That question, in Mr. Greeley's view, was paramount to all oth- 
 ers. It was the Tribune's 'higher law.' Mr. Greeley had given warning, in 
 his Tribune, that he should support ' Maine-Law ' candidates for the Legisla- 
 ture, and for State offices, regardless of their political or party principles and 
 character. And this, too, when the Senators to be elected had to choose a 
 Senator in Congress. But instead of 'reading' Mr. Greeley 'out of the Whig 
 party,' it will be seen that after Mr. Greeley had read himself out of the party 
 by discarding ' party usages, mandates, and platforms,' the Evening Journal, 
 in the language and spirit of friendship, predicted just what happened, viz. 
 that, in due time, Mr. Greeley would '■return to his long-cherished belief that 
 great and beneficent aims must continue, as they commenced, to be wrought out 
 through Whig instrumentalities.'' 
 
 " We submit, even to Mr. Greeley himself, whether there is one word or 
 thought in the article to which he refeiTed justifying his accusation that he 
 had been ' read out of the Whig party ' by the Evening Journal. 
 
 '' Whfen, in December, 1837, we sought the acquaintance and co-operation 
 
COMMENTS OF THURLOW WKED. 489 
 
 of Mr. Greeley, we were, like hiin, a 'poor printer,' working as hard as he 
 worked. We liud then been sole editor, reporter, news collector, ' remarkable 
 accident,' ' horrid murder,' ' items ' man, &c., &c., for seven years, iit a salary 
 of $750, $1,000, S 1,250, and $1,500. We had also been working hard, for 
 poor pay, as an editor and politi(?ian, for the twelve years preceding- 1S30. We 
 stood, therefore, on the same footing with Mr. Greeley when the partnership 
 was formed. We knew that Mr. Greeley was much abler, more indomitably 
 industrious, and, as we believed, a better man in all respects. We foresaw 
 for him a brilliant future; and, if we had not started with utterly erroneous 
 views of his objects, we do not believe that our relations would have jarred. 
 We believed him indill'erent alike to the temptations of money and office, de- 
 siring only to become both ' useful ' and ' ornamental,' as the editor of a patri- 
 otic, enlightened, leading, and influential public journal. For years, there- 
 fore, we placed Horace Greeley far above the ' swell-mob ' of office-seekers, for 
 whom, in his letter, he expresses so much contempt. Had Governor Seward 
 known, in 1848, that Mr. Greeley coveted an 'inspectorship,' he certainly 
 would have received it. Indeed, if our memory be not at fault, Mr. Greeley 
 was offered the Clerkship of the Assembly in 1838. It was certainly pressed 
 upon us, and though at that time, like Mr. Greeloy, ' desperately poor,' it was 
 declined. 
 
 " We cannot think that Jlr. Greeley's political friends, after the Tribune was 
 under way, know that he needed the ' pecuniary aid ' which had been promised. 
 When, about that period, wo suggested to him (after consulting some of the 
 Board) that the printing of the Common Council might be obtained, he refused 
 to have anything to do with it. 
 
 " In relation to the State printing, Mr. Greeley knows that there never was 
 a day when, if he had chosen to come to Albany, he might not have taken 
 whatever interest ho pleased in the Journal and its State printing. But he 
 wisely regarded his position in New York, and the future of the Tribune, as 
 far the most desirable. 
 
 "For the 'creation of the new office for the Times' j\Ir. Greeley knows per- 
 fectly well that Governor Seward was in no manner responsible. 
 
 " That Mr. Greeley should make the adjustment of the libel suit of Messrs. 
 Redfield and Pringle against the Tribune a ground of accusation against Gov- 
 ernor Seward is matter of astonishment. Governor Seward iindertook the 
 settlement of that suit as the friend of Mr. Greeley, at a time when a sys- 
 tematic efibrt was being made to destroy both the Tribune and Evening Jour- 
 nal, by prosecutions for libel. We were literally plastered over with writs, 
 declarations, &c. There were at least two judges of the Supreme Court in 
 the State, on whom plaintiffs were at liberty to count for verdicts. Governor 
 Seward tendered his professional services to Mr. Greeley, and in the case re- 
 ferred to, as in others, foiled the adversary. For such service this seems a 
 strange requital. Less fortunate than the Tribune, it cost the Evening Jour- 
 nal over $ 8,000 to reach a point in legal proceedings that enabled a defend- 
 ant in a libel suit to give the truth in evidence. 
 
 "It was by no fault or neglect or wish of Governor Seward that Mr. Greelej 
 21* 
 
490 GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTIO::^ OF 1860. 
 
 served but 'ninety days in Congi-eiss.' Nor will Ave say what others have 
 said, that his Congressional debut was ' a failure.' There were other reasons, 
 and this seems a fitting occasion to state them. Mr. Greeley's ' isms ' were in 
 his way at conventions. The ' sharp points ' and ' rough edges ' of the Tribune 
 rendered hlcn unacceptable to those who nominate candidates. This was more 
 so formea-ly than at present, for most of the rampant reforms to which the 
 Tribune was devoted have subsided. But we had no sympathy with, and 
 little respect for, a constituency that preferred 'Jim Brooks' to Horace 
 Greeley. 
 
 " Nearly forty years of experience leaves us in some doubt whether, with 
 political friends, an open, frank, and trathful, or a cautious, calculating, non- 
 committal course is (not the right, but) the easiest and most politic? The 
 former, which we have chosen, has made us much trouble and many enemies. 
 Few candidates are able to bear the trath, or to believe that the friend who 
 utters it is trnly one. 
 
 "In 1854 the Tribune, through years of earnest effort, had educated the peo- 
 ple up to the point of demanding a ' Maine Law ' candidate for Governor. 
 But its followers would not accept their Chief Reformer! It was evident 
 that the State Convention was to be largely influenced by ' Maine Law ' and 
 ' Choctaw ' Know-Nothing delegates. It was equally evident that Mr. Gree- 
 ley could neither be nominated nor elected. Hence the conference to which 
 lie refers. We found, as on two other occasions during thirty years, our 
 State Convention impracticable. We submitted the names of Lieutenant- 
 Governor Patterson and Judge Harris (both temperance men in faith and 
 practice) as candidates for Governor, coupled with that of Mr. Greeley for 
 Lieutenant-Governor. But the ' Maine Law ' men would have ' none of these,' 
 preferring Myron H. Clark (who used up the raw material of temperance), 
 qualified by H. J. Raymond for Lieutenant-Governor. 
 
 " What Mr. Greeley says of the relative zeal and efficiency of the Tribune 
 and Times, and of our own feelings in that contest, is true. We did our 
 duty, but with less of enthusiasm than when we were supporting cither 
 Granger, Seward, Bradish, Hunt, Fish, King, or Moi-gan for Governor. 
 
 " One word in relation to the supposed ' political firm.' Mr. Greeley 
 brought into it his full quota of capital. But were there no beneficial results, 
 no accruing advantages, to himself? Did he not attain, in the sixteen years, 
 a high position, a world-wide reputation, and an ample fortune? Admit, as 
 we do, that he (Mr. Greeley) is not as wealthy as we wish he was, it is not be- 
 cause the Tribune has not made his fortune, but because he did not keep it, 
 — because it went, as other people's money goes, to friends, to pay indorse 
 ments, and in bad investments. 
 
 '' We have both been liberally, nay, generously, sustained by our party. Mr. 
 Greeley differs with us in regarding patrons of newspapers as conferring fa- 
 vors. In giving them the worth of their money, he holds that tlic account is 
 balanced. We, on the other hand, have ever held the relation of newspaper 
 editor and subscriber as one of fraternity. Viewed in this aspect, the editors 
 jf the Tribune and Evening Journal have manifold reasons for cherishing 
 
COMMENTS OF THURLOW WEED. 491 
 
 pi":iteful recollections of the liberal and abiding confidence and patronage of 
 their party and friends. 
 
 " In conclusion, we cannot withhold an expression of sincere rcgi-et that this 
 letter has been called oxit. Having remained six years in 'blissful ignorance' 
 of its contents, we should much prefeiTcd to have ever remained so. It jars 
 h.arshly upon cherished memories. It destroys ideals of disinterestedness and 
 generosity which relieved political life from so much that is selfish, sordid, 
 and rapacious." 
 
 Mr. Greeley again denied the charge of personal hostility to Mr. 
 Seward. " The most careful scavenger of private letters," he wrote 
 in reply to Mr. Weed, " or the most sneaking eavesdropper that 
 ever listened to private conversation, cannot allege a single reason 
 for any personal hostility on my part against Mr. Seward. I have 
 never received from him anything but exceeding kindness and 
 courtesy. He has done me favors (not of a political nature) in a 
 manner which made them still more obliging ; and I should regard 
 the loss of his friendship as a very serious loss. Notwithstanding 
 this, I could not support him for President. I like Mr. Seward 
 personally, but I love the party and its principles more. Success 
 for these seemed to me to be a duty, for I have never subscribed 
 to the modern doctrine that defeat with one good man is better 
 than victory with another equally trustworthy." 
 
 It was charged by a leatling journal that Mr. Greeley's course 
 at Chicago was influenced by the fact that Mr. Seward had but 
 coldly rebuked Albert Eust for his assault upon the editor of the 
 Tribune, in the streets of Washington. This also Mr. Greeley de- 
 nied. "I have not," said he, "thought of the matter for at least 
 two years past, except when it was raised in my presence by some 
 one else ; and in every such case I have discouraged any attempt 
 to magnify it into importance. On the spirit and good taste of 
 Governor Seward's remarks in the Senate on the Rust aflfixir I 
 have no opinion to express : but this is a very small matter to be 
 thrust into a canvass for a Presidential nomination. It has never 
 had with me the weight of a butterfly's wing, and I am certain 
 that I never spoke of it to any one, save responsively, and never 
 once thought of it at Chicago." 
 
 Among the ridiculous consequences of Mr. Greeley's conduct was 
 
 the following correspondence : — 
 
 " AuKORA, N. Y., May 19, 1860. 
 " Editors Tribune: — 
 
 " Genti.kmkn: — We have taken the Tribune daily from the morning of its 
 
 first issue until now, through all its isms. 
 
492 GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO CONVENTION OF 1860. 
 
 " You will discontinue sending it to us. Our only regret in parting is that we 
 are under the necessity of losing a three-ceut stamp in order to close our ac- 
 count. 
 
 " Wishing you a good time for a few months to come, 
 
 " We are truly yours, 
 
 " Morgan & Mosher." 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 " New York, Jlay 22, 1860. 
 " Gentlemen : — The painful regret expressed in yours of the 
 19th instant excites my sympathies. I enclose you a three-cent 
 stamp, to replace that whose loss you deplore, and remain, 
 " Yours, placidly, 
 
 " Horace Greeley. 
 "Messrs. Morgan & Mosiier, Aurora, Cayuga Co., N. Y." 
 
 The friends of Mr. Seward had not long to wait for their revenge. 
 In February, 1861, Mr. Greeley was a leading candidate of the Re- 
 publican party to represent the State of New York in the Senate 
 of the United States. His rival for a nomination by the Republi- 
 can caucus was William M. Evarts, a distinguished lawyer of the 
 city of New York. In a caucus of one hundred and fifteen mem- 
 bers, the friends of these two candidates were so evenly divided, 
 that, after eight ballotings, there appeared Httle hope of either being 
 selected. On the tenth ballot the friends of Mr. Evarts abandoned 
 their candidate, and cast their votes for Judge Ira Harris of Albany, 
 which secured his nomination. During this contest Mr. Thurlow 
 "Weed was in another room of the State Capitol. Perhaps the best 
 way of explaining why he was there will be to copy the following 
 despatch from the New York Herald, dated Albany, February 2d, 
 midnight : — 
 
 "This has been one of the most exciting days of the session. 
 The like will not be seen at the Capitol for many a day. During 
 the afternoon everybody appeared to be on the run, and the doubt- 
 ful members were besieged at every turn. The lobbies and halls 
 at the Capitol were crowded to overflowing at the opening of the 
 caucus. Weed stationed himself in the Governor's room, and, after 
 the first baUot, a continuous Hne was seen going back and forth. 
 The first ballot proved that my canvass was not four out of the 
 way, and its annoimcement was as a wet sheet upon the Evarts 
 side. For ei"-ht long ballots, Ihe friends of each watched the an- 
 
THE COMMENTS OF THURLOW WEED. 493 
 
 nouncement, to see "who had changed; l)ut not until the eighth bal- 
 lot could there be found any evidence whether Greeley or Evarts 
 would rally. On that, Greeley gained five, and in a moment the 
 Harris tickets were started by the Weed men. The fact being 
 known that there was a break in the line caused intense excite- 
 ment. Throughout the ninth ballot everybody was on their feet 
 moving about. The ballot revealed a wonderful change of front. 
 
 " The forty-nine votes recorded for Harris made his nomination 
 certain on the next ballot. 
 
 " The moment it was known that he received sixty votes, there 
 was a rush for Weed. He was pulled out of the Governor's room, 
 and completely surrounded." 
 
 At this point the feud between these old friends ought to have 
 ended. Each of them had been instrumental in defeating the cher- 
 ished object of the other. They ought to have called it even, 
 shaken hands, and worked together for the country. But human 
 passions are not so easily allayed ; and from political opponents 
 they had the misfortune to become personal enemies. 
 
 The following paragraphs from the Tribune may serve to com- 
 plete the history of these events. 
 
 "The Albany Evening Journal says: — 
 
 " ' The Postmaster-Generalship Tvas once, it is said, a pet aspiration of the 
 editor-in-chief of the Tribune.' 
 
 "'The editor-in-chief of the Tribune' having been designated by 
 several influential Republicans for Postmaster-General, in Novem- 
 ber last authorized the IIonoral)le Schuyler Colfax to convey to the 
 President elect his decided veto on that selection. This was be- 
 fore it was known that Governor Seward had reconsidered his 
 original determination to accept no office under Mr. Lincoln. 
 
 "Even the Evening Journal will not say that it would have been 
 presumptuous in the editor aforesaid to have aspired to office at the 
 hands of the new President. The fact that he did not seek any such 
 office, but early and decidedly informed those friends who suggested 
 the matter to him that he would not be a candidate for any office 
 whatever, is known to many. So much for that point. 
 
 " The Journal says that Mr. Lincoln appointed Mr. Seward, 
 
 " ' Against the persistent protestations of those who concurred with the 
 Tribune.' 
 
494 GREELEY AT THE CHICAGO COXVENTIOX OF 1860. 
 
 " Shuffling as this charge is, it is essentially false. The Tribune 
 promptly and heartily approved the selection of Governor Seward 
 for the State Department. It early and sincerely offered to sup- 
 port his re-election to the Senate, while it was understood that Mr. 
 S. would take no appointment. It never in any manner opposed 
 his selection for the Cabinet, or for whatever post under President 
 Lincoln he might choose to accept. It has dissented from the pol- 
 icy to which he has recently committed himself, but never sought 
 to bar his elevation to the honorable post assigned him, and wliich 
 we trust he will fill with eminent usefulness and honor." 
 
 Perhaps I may add, that a few days after the election of Mr. Lin- 
 coln, in November, 1860, I myself heard Mr. G-reeley say : " If my 
 advice should be asked respecting Mr. Lincoln's Cabinet, I should 
 recommend the appointment of Seward as Secretary of State. It 
 is the place for him, and he will do honor to the country in it," 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 Mr. Greeley's opinions upon Secession before the war began — ^The battle of Bull Run — 
 Correspondence with President Lincohi — His peace negotiations — Assault upon the 
 Tribune office — Indorses the proffer of the French mission to the editor of the Herald 
 — He writes a history of the war — lie offers prizes for improved fruits. 
 
 Horace Grkeley was slow to believe that the fire-eaters of the 
 South meant to bring the controversy to the issue of arms. He 
 had been accustomed from his boyhood to hear threats of secession 
 at every Presidential election, and he was now disposed to regard 
 the menacing attitude as part of the system of bluster by which the 
 South for so many years had controlled the politics of the country. 
 In commenting upon the proceedings in South Carolina, he held 
 language which was misunderstood both by friends and foes. Quot- 
 ing the passage from the Declaration of Independence, that govern- 
 ments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed, 
 he added : — 
 
 " We do heartily accept this doctrine, believing it intrinsically 
 sound, beneficent, and one that, universally accepted, is calculated 
 to prevent the shedding of seas of human blood. And if it justified 
 the secession from thte British Empire of three millions of Colonists 
 in 177G, we do not see why it would not justify the secession of 
 five millions of Southrons from the Federal Union in 1861. If we 
 are mistaken on this point, why does not some one attempt to show 
 wherein and why ? For our own part, while we deny the right of 
 slaveholders to hold slaves against the will of the latter, we can- 
 not see how twenty millions of people can rightfully hold ten, or 
 even five, in a detested union with them, by military force. 
 
 " Of course, we understand that the principle of Jefi'erson, like 
 any other broad generalization, may be pushed to extreme and 
 baleful consequences. We can see why Governor's Island should 
 not be at liberty to secede from the State and Nation, and allow 
 herself to be covered with French and British batteries command- 
 ing and threatening our city. There is hardly a great principle 
 which may not be thus 'run into the ground.' But if seven or 
 
496 DURING TUE WAR. 
 
 eight contiguous States shall present themselves authentically at 
 Washington, saying, 'We hate the Federal Union; we have with- 
 drawn I'roin it; we give you the choice between acquiescing in our 
 secession and arranging amicably all incidental questions on the one 
 hand, and attempting to subdue us on the other,' — we could not 
 stand up for coercion, for subjugation, for we do not think it would 
 be just. We hold the right of self-government sacred, even when 
 invoked in behalf of those who deiiy it to others. So much for the 
 question of principle. 
 
 "Now as to the matter of policy : — 
 
 " South Carolina will certainly secede. Several other Cotton 
 States will probably follow her example. The Border States are 
 evidently reluctant to do likewise. South Carolina has grossly in- 
 sulted them by her dictatorial, reckless course. What she expects 
 and desires is a clash of arms with the Federal government, which 
 will at once connnend her to the sympathy and co-operation 9f 
 every Slave State, and to the sympathy (at least) of the pro-slavery 
 minority in the Free States. It is not diflicult to see that this 
 would speedily work a political revolution, which would restore to 
 slavery all, and more than all, it has lost by the canvass of 1860. 
 We want to obviate this. We would expose the seceders to odium 
 as disunionists, not commend them to pity as the gallant though 
 mistaken upholders of the rights of their section in an unequal mih- 
 tary conflict. 
 
 " We fully realize that the dilemma of the incoming administra- 
 tion will be a critical one. It must endeavor to uphold and enforce 
 the laws, as well against rebellious slaveholders as fugitive slaves. 
 The new President must fulfil the obligations assumed in his in- 
 auguration oath, no matter how shamefully his predecessor may 
 have defied them. We fear that Southern madness may precipitate 
 a bloody collision that all must deplore. But if ' ever seven or eight 
 States' send agents to Washington to say, 'We want to get out of 
 the Union,' we shall feel constrained by our devotion to human lib- 
 erty to say, ' Let them go ! ' And we do not see how we could take 
 the other side without coming in direct conflict with those rights 
 of man which we hold paramount to all political arrangements, 
 however convenient and advantageous." 
 
 These remarks appeared in the Tribune of December 17, 1860. 
 On the 24th of the same month he held the following language : — 
 
MR. GUEELEY'S OPIXIOXS OF SECESSION. 497 
 
 " We believe that governments are made for peoples, not peoples 
 for governments, — that the latter 'derive their just power from 
 the consent of the governed ' ; and whenever a portion of this 
 Union, large enough to form an independent self-subsisting nation, 
 shall see fit to say, authentically, to the residue, ' We want to get 
 away from you,' we shall say, — and we trust self-respect, if not 
 regard for the principle of self-government, will constrain the resi- 
 due of the American people to say, — ' Go ! ' We never yet had 
 so poor an opinion of ourselves or our neighbors as to wish to 
 hold others in a hated connection with us. But the dissolution of 
 a government cannot be cflected in the time required for knocking 
 down a house of cards. Let the Cotton States, or any six or more 
 States, say unequivocally, ' We want to get out of the Union,' and 
 propose to effect their end peaceably and inoffensively, and we will 
 do our best to help them out ; not that we want them to go, but 
 that we loathe the idea of compelling them to stay. All we ask is, 
 that they exercise a reasonable patience, so as to give time for 
 effecting their end without bloodshed." 
 
 Such editorials as these, though sincere, well meant, and unan- 
 swerable, appear to belong to the class of nothings which the edi- 
 tor of a daily paper is frequently obliged to utter, when the public 
 mind is at once excited and undecided. He knew perfectly well, 
 as we all did, that the question of secession could not be discussed 
 at the South, and would never be fairly submitted to the people, 
 and that there would be no such thing as a calm and peaceful wait- 
 ing for the action of the people and government. " I do not be- 
 lieve," he wrote January 21, 18G1, "in the unanimity of "the South 
 in favor of secession, because the conspirators evidently do not be- 
 lieve in it themselves. If they did, they would eagerly and proudly 
 submit the question of secession to a direct vote of the people of 
 their respective States ; but this, even in South Carolina, they dare 
 not do. Wherever they have assented to a popular vote, they have 
 done so with manifest reluctance, and only because tli(!y needs 
 must." 
 
 And again on the same day : " What I demand is proof that the 
 Southern people really desire separation from the Free States. 
 Whenever assured that such is their settled wish, I shall joyfully 
 co-operate with them to secure the end they seek. Thus far, I 
 have had evidence of nothing but a purpose to bully and coerce 
 
 FF 
 
498 DURIXG THE WAR. 
 
 the North. Many of the secession emissaries to the Border Slave 
 States tell the people they address that they do not really mean to 
 dissolve the Union, but only to secure what they term their rights 
 in the Union. Now, as nearly all the people of the Slave States 
 either are, or have to seem to be, in favor of this, the present men- 
 acing front of secession proves nothing to the purpose. Maryland 
 and Virginia have no idea of breaking up the Union; but they 
 would both dearly like to bully the North into a compromise. 
 Their secession demonstrations prove just this, and nothing more." 
 
 lu the same article he said ; " I deny to one State, or to a dozen 
 different States, the right to dissolve this Union. It can only be 
 legally dissolved as it was formed, — by the free consent of all the 
 parties concerned. A State enters the Union by a compact to 
 which she on the one side, and a constitutional majority in the 
 Federal councils on the other, are the parties. She can only go 
 out by like concurrence or by revolution. It is anarchy even to 
 admit the right of secession. It is to degrade our Union into a 
 mere alliance, and insure its speedy ruin." 
 
 As late as the day of the inauguration Mr. Lincoln expected a 
 peaceful solution of our difficulties, and expressed this opinion in 
 conversation to Mr. G-reeley and other friends. 
 
 In a very few weeks, however, the question of peace or war was 
 decided in Charleston Harbor, and from that hour the Tribune 
 gave unreserved and most able support to the suppression of the 
 Rebellion by arms. 
 
 The battle of Bull Run nearly cost the editor of the Tribune his 
 life. Some of the more ardent spirits in the office, impatient of 
 delay, kept constantly standing on the editorial page a paragraph 
 like this : — 
 
 THE NATION'S WAR-CRY. 
 
 " Forioard to Richmond ! Forward to Richmond ! The Rebel 
 Congress must not be allowed to meet there on the 20th July! By 
 that date the place must be held by the national 
 Army ! " 
 
 When the disaster occurred, so unexpected and so crushing, Mr. 
 G-reeley was almost beside himself with horror. To the natural 
 dread of war and bloodshed which every civihzed being feels, and 
 he more than most, was added, perhaps, some contrition for having 
 
THE BATTLE OF BULL KUX. 499 
 
 permitted the paper to goad the government into an advance which 
 events showed to be either too late or premature. He did not, 
 however, dechnc the responsibihty attached to his position. "I 
 wish, "he wrote, July 25, 1861, "to be distinctly understood as 
 not seeking to be relieved from any responsibility for urging the 
 advance of the Union Grand Army into Virginia, though the watch- 
 word 'Forward to Richmond' was not mine, and I would have 
 preferred not to iterate it. I thought that army, one hundred thou- 
 sand strong, might have been in the Rebel capital on or before the 
 20th instant, while I felt sure that there were urgent reasons why 
 it should be there, if possible. And now, if any one imagines. that 
 I, or any one connected with the Tribune, ever commended or im- 
 agined any such strategy as the launching barely thirty of the one 
 hundred thousand Union volunteers, within fifty miles of Wash- 
 ington, against ninety thousand Rebels, enveloped in a labyrinth 
 of strong intrenchments and ttnreconnoitred masked batteries, then 
 demonstration would be lost on his ear. But I will not dwell on 
 this. If I am needed as a scapegoat for all the military blunders 
 of the last month, so be it ! Individuals must die that the Nation 
 may live. If I can serve her best in that capacity, I do not shrink 
 from the ordeal." 
 
 He retired to his farm a few days after, and was soon prostrated 
 by an attack of brain fever, and for six weeks was scarcely con- 
 scious of passing events. His wonderful constitution has never 
 been so severely tried, and he narrowly escaped the loss of his life 
 or reason. 
 
 Horace Greeley was among the first to reach the conviction that 
 the Rebellion could not be suppressed without the aid of the black 
 man. In August, 1862, after the defeat of General McClellan and 
 his retreat from the Chickahominy, he addressed a letter through 
 the Tribune to the President, entitled "The Prayer of Twenty 
 Millions," which urged the President to execute the law which 
 gave freedom to the slave coming within our lines, and to enforce 
 the confiscation act. "We must," said he, "have scouts, guides, 
 spies, cooks, teamsters, diggers, and choppers from the blacks of the 
 South, — whether we allow them to fight for us or not, — or we 
 shall be bafHed and repelled." The President, thus publicly appealed 
 to, thought proper publicly to reply, in the terms following: — 
 
500 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 " Executive Mansion, Washington, August 22, 1862. 
 "Hon. Horace Greeley: — 
 
 "Dear Sir: — I have just read yours of tke 19th, addressed to myself 
 through the New York Tribune. If there be in it any statements or assump- 
 tions of fi^ct which I may know to be erroneous, I do not now and liere con- 
 trovert them. If there be in it any inferences which I may believe to be 
 falsely drawn, I do not now and here argue against them. If there be percep- 
 tible in it an impatient and dictatorial tone, I waive it in deference to an old 
 friend, whose heart I have always supposed to be right. 
 
 " As to the policy I ' seem to be pui'suing,' as you say, I have not meant to 
 leave any one in doubt. 
 
 "I would save the Union. I would save it the shortest way under the Con- 
 stitution. The sooner the national authoritj' can be restored, the nearer the 
 Union will be ' the Union as it was.' If there be those who would not save 
 the Union unless they could at the same time save slaverj--, I do not agi-ee with 
 them. If there be those who would not save the Union unless they could at 
 the same time destroy slavery, I do not agree with them. Jly paramount ob- 
 ject in this struggle is to save the Union, ^nd is not either to save or destroy 
 slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it; 
 and if I could save it by freemg all the slaves, 1 would do it; and if 1 could do 
 it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do that. What I do 
 about slavery and the colored race. I do because I believe it helps to save this 
 Union; and what I forbear, 1 forbear because I do not believe it would help to 
 save the Union. I shall do less whenever I shall believe what I am doing hurts 
 the cause, and I shall do moi-e whenever I shall believe doing more will help 
 the cause. I shall try to correct eiTors when shown to be errors ; and I shall 
 adopt new views so fast as they shall appear to be true views. I have here 
 stated my purpose according to my view o[ official duty, and I intend no mod- 
 ification of my oft-expressed jaej'sonrt^ wish that all men, everywhere, could be 
 free. 
 
 " Yours, A. Lincoln." 
 
 To this letter Mr. Greeley published the following reply : — 
 "Dear Sir: — Although I did not anticipate nor seek any reply 
 to my former letter unless through your official acts, I thank you 
 for having accorded one, since it enables me to say explicitly that 
 nothing was further from my thought than to impeach in any man- 
 ner the sincerity or the intensity of your devotion to the saving of 
 the Union. I never doubted, and have no friend who doubts, that 
 you desire, before and above all else, to re-establish the now de- 
 rided authority, and vindicate the territorial integrity, of the Re- 
 public. I intended to raise only this question, — Do you propose to 
 do this 1)1/ recognizing, obeying, and enforcing the laws, or by ignoritigy 
 disregarding, and in effect defying them ? 
 
CORRESPONDENCE WITH PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 501 
 
 " I stand upon the law of the land. The humblest has a clear 
 right to invoke its protection and support against even the highest. 
 That law — in strict accordance with the law of nations, of Nature, 
 and of God — declares that every traitor now engaged in the infer- 
 nal work of destroying our country has forfeited thereby all claim 
 or color of right lawfully to hold human beings in slavery. I ask 
 of you a clear and public recognition that this law is to be obeyed 
 wherever the national authority is respected. I cite to you in- 
 stances wherein men fleeing from bondage to traitors to the pro- 
 tection of our flag have been assaulted, wounded, and murdered by 
 soldiers of the Union, unpunished and unrebuked by your General 
 Commanding, — to prove that it is your duty to take action in the 
 premises, — action that will cause the law to be proclaimed and 
 obeyed wherever your authority or that of the Union is recognized 
 as paramount. The Rebellion is strengthened, the national cause 
 is imperilled, by every hour's delay to strike Treason this staggering 
 blow. 
 
 " When Fremont proclaimed freedom to the slaves of rebels, you 
 constrained him to modify his proclamation into rigid accordance 
 with the terms of the existing law. It was your clear right to do 
 so. I now ask of you conformity to the principle so sternly en- 
 forced upon him. I ask you to instruct your generals and com- 
 modores, that no loyal person — certainly none wiUing to render 
 service to the national cause — is henceforth to be regarded as the 
 slave of any traitor. While no rightful government was ever be- 
 fore assailed by so wanton and wicked a rebellion as that of the 
 slaveholders against our national life, I am sure none ever before 
 hesitated at so simple and primary an act of self-defence, as to re- 
 lieve those who would serve and save it from chattel servitude to 
 those who are wading through seas of blood to subvert and destroy 
 it. Future generations will with difficulty realize that there could 
 have been hesitation on this point. Sixty years of general and 
 boundless subserviency to the slave power do not adequately ex- 
 plain it. 
 
 " Mr. President, I beseech you to open your eyes to the fact that 
 the devotees of slavery everywhere — just as much in Maryland as 
 in Mississippi, in Washington as in Richmond — are to-day your 
 enemies, and the implacable foes of every effort to re-establish the 
 national authority hy the discomfiture of its assailants. Their 
 
502 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 President is not Abraham Lincoln, but Jefferson Davis. You may 
 draft them to serve in the war ; but they will only fight under the 
 Rebel flag. There is not in New York to-day a man who really 
 believes in slavery, loves it, and desires its perpetuation, who 
 heartily desires the crushing out of the Rebelhon. He would much 
 rather save the Republic by buying up and pensioning off its assail- 
 ants. His ' Union as it was ' is a Union of which you were not 
 President, and no one who truly wished freedom to all ever 
 could be. 
 
 " If these are truths, Mr. President, they are surely of the gravest 
 importance. You cannot safely approach the great and good end 
 you so intently meditate by shutting your eyes to them. Your 
 deadly foe is not blinded by any mist in which your eyes may be 
 enveloped. He walks straight to his goal, knowing well his weak 
 point, and most unwillingly betraying his fear that you too may see 
 and take advantage of it. God grant that his apprehension may 
 prove prophetic I 
 
 " That you may not unseasonably perceive these vital truths as 
 they will shine forth on the pages of history, — that they may be 
 read by our children irradiated by the glory of our national salva- 
 tion, not rendered lurid by the blood-red glow of national confla- 
 gration and ruin, — that you may promptly and practically reaUze 
 that slavery is to be vanquished only by hberty, — is the fervent 
 and anxious prayer of 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 "Horace Greeley. 
 
 "New York, August 24, 1862." 
 
 Twenty-nine days after the date of this reply the Proclamation 
 of Emancipation was issued. I do not believe that before its ap- 
 pearance Mr. Greeley ever had any comfortable assurance that the 
 United States would triumph over its enemies ; but from that day 
 he was generally confident of a favorable issue. A day or two after 
 the Proclamation was published I met bjm in Broadway, his coun- 
 tenance beaming with exultation, and he expressed in the strongest 
 language his conviction that the ultimate triumph of the nation was 
 certain. 
 
 Mr. Greeley's efforts for the restoration of peace are well remem- 
 bered. He was first addressed on this subject in December, 1862, 
 and he thus relates the circumstances. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE WITH PRESIDENT LINCOLN. o03 
 
 "We were approached," he says, "by parties favorable to peace, 
 and entreated to contribute to its attainment. Ilavint,' always been 
 most anxious for the earliest possible peace consistent with fidelity 
 to those hopes for humanity which are bound up in the life of the 
 American Republic, we listened to the appeal, and resolved to do 
 our utmost toward the achievement of a tolerable peace. To that 
 end we labored faithfully so long as any hope of attaining it re- 
 mained, willing to brave the anger and alienation of valued friends 
 if we might, at whatever personal cost, contribute to an early con- 
 clusion of this desolating war. A private letter, which we wrote 
 at that time by his request, to the most active agitator for peace, 
 having been given to the public by him, most unwarrantably, has 
 been widely quoted by our political and personal adversaries as 
 evincing an undue anxiety for peace. It is as follows : — 
 
 " ' New York, January 2, 1S63. 
 '" W. C. Jewett, Esq., Washington, I). C: — 
 
 '"Dear Sir: — In whatever you may do to restore peace to our distracted 
 country, bear tliese tilings in mind : — 
 
 " ' 1. Whatever action is talsen must be between the government of the 
 United States and the accredited antliorities of tlie Confederates. Tliere must 
 be no negotiations or conditions between unofficial persons. All you can do 
 is to render authorized negotiations possible by opening a way for them. 
 
 "'2. In such negotiations our government camiot act without a trusted 
 though informal assurance that the Confederates have taken the initiative. 
 The rapture originated with them; they must evince a preliminary willing- 
 ness to make peace; and, on being assm-ed that this is reciprocated, they must 
 iuitiate the formal proposition. 
 
 " ' 3. If arbitration shall be resorted to, these conditions must be respected : 
 First. The arbiter must be a power which has evinced no partiality or un- 
 friendliness to either party. Second. One that has no interest in the partition 
 or do\vTifall of our country. Third. One that does not desire the failure of tlie 
 republican principle in government. Great Britain tmd France are necessarily 
 excluded by their having virtually confessed their wishes that wo should be 
 divided ; and Louis Napoleon has an especial interest in proving republics im- 
 practicable. For if the republican is a legitimate, beneficent foi-m of govern- 
 ment, what must be the verdict of history on tlie destroyer of the French 
 Republic ? 
 
 '"You wiU find, I think, no hearty supporter of the Union who will agree 
 that our government shall act in the premises, except on a franli, open propo- 
 sition from tlie Confederates, proposing arbitration by a frientlly power or 
 powers. I can consider no man a friend of the Union who makes a parade 
 of peace propositions or peace agitation prior to such action. 
 
 " ' Yours, 
 
 " ' IIOHACK GhEEUCY.' 
 
504 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 "Mr. Jewett, in pursuance of the above, did his best, whatever 
 that may be, to discover, through their friends in the loyal States 
 and in the Federal District, what the Rebels would do toward 
 peace ; but to no purpose. No word of conciliation or arbitration 
 could be evoked from that side. They wanted peace of course ; but 
 peace by surrender on our side, by disunion, by the giving up to 
 them not only of all they have, but of all they want, including a 
 great deal that they have not and some that they never had. In 
 other words, having appealed from the ballot-box and the rostrum 
 to the bayonet and the sword, they purposed to end the struggle 
 as they had begun it, bidding the hardest fend off' and the weaker 
 go to the wall. And we, after weeks of earnest pursuit of some 
 endurable peace proposition from the Rebels, were obliged to give 
 it up, without having come in sight of any Rebel proposition at all. 
 And we are thus justified in our conviction that there never was 
 any conciliatory project, authorized by the Rebel chiefs, that they 
 chose to submit to the judgment even of the most ardent champions 
 of peace in the loyal States." 
 
 In July, 18G4, Mr. Jewett renewed his endeavors, which induced 
 Mr. Greeley to address the following letter to the President : — 
 
 HORACE GREELEY TO PRESIDENT UNCOLN. 
 
 " New York, July 7, 1864. 
 
 " My Dear Sir : — I venture to enclose you a letter and tele- 
 graphic despatcli that I received yesterday from our irrepressible 
 friend, Colorado Jewett, at Niagara Falls. I think they deserve 
 attention. Of course, I do not indorse Jewett's positive averment 
 that his friends at the Falls have ' full powers ' from J. D. [Jefferson 
 Davis], though I do not doubt that he thinks they have. I let that 
 statement stand as simply evidencing the anxiety of the Confed- 
 erates everywhere for peace. So much is beyond doubt. 
 
 "And, therefore, I venture to remind you that our bleeding, 
 bankrupt, almost dying country also longs for peace, — shudders at 
 the prospect of fresh conscriptions, of further wholesale devasta- 
 tions, and of new rivers of human blood; and a wide-spread con- 
 viction that the government and its prominent supporters are not 
 anxious for peace, and do not improve proffered opportunities to 
 achieve it, is doing great harm now, and is morally certain, unless 
 removed, to do far greater in the approaching elections. . 
 
CORRESPONDENCE WITH PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 505 
 
 "It is not enough that Ave anxiously desire a true and lasting 
 peace; we ought to demonstrate and establish the truth beyond 
 cavil. The fact that A. II. Stephens was not permitted a year ago 
 to visit and confer with the authorities at Washington has done 
 harm, which the tone of the late National Convention at Baltimore 
 is not calculated to counteract. 
 
 " I entreat you, in your own time and manner, to submit over- 
 tures for pacification to the Southern insurgents, which the impar- 
 tial must pronounce frank and generous. If only with a view to 
 the momentous election soon to occur in North Carolina, and of the 
 draft to be enforced in the Free States, tliis should be done at once. 
 I would give the safe-conduct required by the Rebel envoys at 
 Niagara, upon their parole to avoid observation, and to refrain from 
 all communication with their sympathizers in the loyal States ; but 
 you may see reasons for declining it. But whether through them 
 or otherwise, do not, I entreat you, fail to make the Southern peo- 
 ple comprehend that you, and all of us, are anxious for peace, and 
 prepared to grant liberal terms. I venture to suggest the following 
 
 "plan of adjustment. 
 
 " 1. The Union is restored and declared perpetual. 
 
 " 2. Slavery is utterly and forever abolished throughout the same. 
 
 " 3. A complete amnesty for all political offences, with a resto- 
 ration of all the inhabitants of each State to all the privileges of cit- 
 izens of the United States. 
 
 "4. The Union to pay four hundred million dollars ($400,000,- 
 000), in five-per-cent United States stock, to the late Slave States, 
 loyal and secession alike, to be apportioned pro rata, according to 
 their slave population respectively, by the census of 1860, in com- 
 pensation for the losses of their loyal citizens by the abolition of 
 slavery. Each State to be entitled to its quota upon the ratifica- 
 tion by its legislature of this adjustment. The bonds to be at the 
 absolute disposal of the legislature aforesaid. 
 
 " 5. The said Slave States to be entitled henceforth to represen- 
 tation in the House on the basis of their total, instead of their Fed- 
 eral population, the whole now being free. 
 
 " 6. A national convention to be assembled so soon as may be, 
 to ratify this adjustment, and make such changes in the Constitu- 
 tion as may be deemed advisable. 
 22 
 
506 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 " Mr. President, I fear j^ou do not realize how intently the people 
 desire any peace consistent with the national integrity and honor, 
 and how joyously they would hail its achievement, and bless its 
 authors. With United States stocks Avorth but forty cents in gold 
 per dollar, and drafting about to commence on the third million of 
 Union soldiers, can this be wondered at? 
 
 " I do not say that a just peace is now attainable, though I be- 
 lieve it to be so. But I do say that a frank offer by you to the 
 insurgents, of terms which the impartial world say ought to be ac- 
 cepted, will, at the worst, prove an immense and sorely needed 
 advantage to the national cause. , It may save us from a Northern 
 insurrection. 
 
 " Yours truly, Horace Greeley. 
 
 " Hon. a. Lincoln, President, Washington, D. C. 
 
 " P. S. — Even though it should be deemed unadvisable to make 
 an offer of terms to the Rebels, I insist that, in any possible case, 
 it is desirable that any offer they may be disposed to make should 
 be received, and either accepted or rejected. I beg you to invite 
 those now at Niagara to exhibit their credentials and submit their 
 ultimatum. H. Gr." 
 
 Upon the receipt of this letter the President requested Mr. Gree- 
 ley to repair to Niagara Falls, and converse with the supposed Con- 
 federate commissioners. He most reluctantly complied with this 
 request, and at Niagara the following correspondence occurred. 
 
 GEORGE N. SANDERS TO HORACE GREELEY. 
 " [Private and confidential.] 
 
 "Clifton House, Niagara Falls, 
 Canada West, July 12, 1864. 
 ' Dear Sir : — I am authorized to say that the Honorable Clement C. Clay 
 of Alabama, Professor James P. Holcombe of Virginia, and George N. Sanders 
 of Dixie, are ready and willing to go at once to Washington, upon complete 
 and unqualified protection being given either by the President or Secretary 
 of War. Let the permission include the three names and one other. 
 " Very respectfully, 
 
 "George N. Sanders." 
 
 HORACE GREELEY TO MESSRS. CLEMENT C. CLAY, AND OTHERS. 
 
 " Niagara Falls. N. Y., July 17, 1864. 
 "Gentlemen: — I am informed that you are duly accredited from 
 Richmond, as the bearers of propositions looking to the establish- 
 
PEACE NEGOTIATIONS. 507 
 
 ment of peace; that you desire to visit Washington in the fulfil- 
 ment of your mission, and that you further desire that Mr. George 
 N. Sanders shall accompany you. If my information be thus far 
 substantially correct, I am authorized by the President of the 
 United States to tender you his safe-conduct on the journey pro- 
 posed, and to accompany you at the earliest time that will be 
 agreeable to you. 
 
 "I have the honor to be, gentlemen, yours, 
 
 "Horace Greeley. 
 "To Messrs. Cle.ment C. Clay, Jacob Thompson, James P. Hol- 
 coMBE, Clifton House, C. W." 
 
 MESSRS. CLAY AND IIOLCOMBE TO HORACE GREELEY. 
 " Clifton House, Niagara Falls, July 18, 1864. 
 
 " Sir: — We have the honor to acknowledge your favor of the 17th instant, 
 which would have been answered on yesterday, but for tlie absence of Mr. 
 Clay. The safe-conduct of the President of the United States has been ten- 
 dered us, we recjret to state, under some misapprehension of facts. We have 
 not been accredited to him from Richmond as the bearers of propositions look- 
 ing to the estabHshment of peace. 
 
 " We are, however, in the confidential emplojnnent of our government, and 
 are entirely familiar witli its wishes and opinions on that subject; and we 
 feel authorized to declare that, if the circumstances disclosed in this corre- 
 spondence were communicated to Richmond, we would be at once invested 
 with the authority to which your letter refers, or other gentlemen clothed with 
 full powers would be immediately sent to Washington, with the view of has- 
 tening a consummation so much to be desired, and terminating at the earliest 
 possible momont the calamities of the war. 
 
 " We respectfully solicit, through your intei-vention, a safe-conduct to Wash- 
 ington, and thence bj' any route which may be designated, thi'ough your lines 
 to Richmond. We would be gratified if Mr. George N. Sanders was embraced 
 in this privilege. Permit us, in conclusion, to acknowledge our obligations to 
 you for the interest you have manifested in the furtherance of our wishes, and 
 to express the hope that, in any event, you will afford us the opportunity of 
 tendering them in person before you leave the Falls. 
 
 " We remain, veiy respectfully, &c., 
 
 " C. C. Clay, Jr. 
 
 J. P. nOLCOMBE. 
 
 "P. S. — It is proper to add that Mr. Thompson is not here, and has not 
 been stayuigwith us since our sojourn iu Canada." 
 
608 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 HORACE GREELEY TO IMESSRS. CLAY AND HOLCOMBE. 
 "International Hotel, Niagara, N. Y., July 18, 1864. 
 " Gentlemen: — I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of 
 yours of this date, by the hand of Mr. W. C. Jewett. The state of 
 facts therein presented .being materially diflerent from that which 
 was understood to exist by the President, Avhen he intrusted me 
 with the safe-conduct required, it seems to me on every account 
 advisable that I should communicate with him by telegraph, and 
 solicit fresh instructions, which I shall at once proceed to do. 
 
 " I hope to be able to transmit the result this afternoon, and, at 
 all events, I shall do so at the earliest moment. 
 "Yours truly, 
 
 "Horace Greeley. 
 "To Messrs. Clement C. Clay and James P. IIolcombe, Clifton 
 House, C. W." 
 
 MESSRS. CLAY AND HOLCOMBE TO HORACE GREELEY. 
 "Clifton House, Niagara Falls, July 18, 1864. 
 " To the Honorable H. Greeley, Niagara Falls, N. Y. : — 
 
 " Sir: — We have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your note of this 
 date, by the hands of Colonel Jewett, and will await the further answer which 
 you purpose to send to us. 
 
 " We are, very respectfully, &c., 
 
 " C. C. Clay, Jr. 
 James P. Holcombe." 
 
 HORACE GREELEY TO MESSRS. CLAY AND HOLCOMBE. 
 "International Hotel, Niagara Falls, N. Y., .July 19, 1664. 
 "Gentlemen: — At a late hour last evening (too late for com- 
 munication with you) I received a despatch informing me that 
 further instructions left Washington last evening, which must 
 reach me, if there be no interruption, at noon to-morrow. Should 
 you decide to await their arrival, I feel confident that they will 
 enable me to answer definitely your note of yesterday morning. 
 Regretting a delay, which I am sure you will regard as unavoid- 
 able on my part, 
 
 " I remain, yours truly, 
 
 "Horace Greeley. 
 "To the Honorable Messrs. C. C. Clay, Jr., and J. P. Holcombe, 
 CUfton House, Niagara, C. W." 
 
PKACE NKGOTIATION3. 509 
 
 MESSRS. CLAY AND IIOLCOMBE TO HORACE GREELEY. 
 "CuiTON House, Niaoaua Fau.s, July 19, 1864. 
 " Sik: — Colonel .Tcwett has just handed us your note of this date, in which 
 you state that fuitlier instnictions from Wasliington will reach you by noon 
 to-morrow, if there bo no interruption. One, or possibly both of us, may be 
 obliged to leave the Falls to-day, but will return in time to receive the com- 
 munication which you promise to-morrow. 
 
 " We remain truly yours, &c., 
 
 "James I'. IIoi.combe. 
 C. C. Ci-AY, Jn. 
 "To the Honorable Horace Greef.ey, now at the International Hotel." 
 
 MESSRS. CLAY AND HOLCOMBE TO M. C. JEWETT. 
 
 " Clifton Hoitse', Niagara Falls, 
 Wednesday, July 20, 1864. 
 " Colonel M. C. Jewett, Cataract House, Niagara Falls: — 
 
 " Sir : — We are in receipt of your note, admonishing us of the departure of 
 the Honorable Horace Greeley from the Falls; that he regrets the sad termi- 
 nation of the initiatory steps taken for peace, in consequence of the change 
 made by the President in his instructions to convey commissioners to Wash- 
 ington for negotiations, unconditionally, and that Mr. Greeley will bo pleased 
 to receive any answer we may Iiavo to make through you. 
 
 " We avail ourselves of this offer to enclose a letter to Mr. Greeley, which 
 you will oblige us by delivering. We cannot take leave of you without ex- 
 pressing our thanks for your courtesy and kind ofn<;e3 as the intermediary 
 through whom our correspondence with Mr. Greeley has been conducted, and 
 assuring you that we are, very respectfully, 
 
 " Your obedient servants, 
 
 " C. C. Clay, Jr. 
 James P. Holcombe." 
 
 MESSRS. CLAY AND HOLCOMBE TO HORACE GREELEY. 
 " Niagara Falls, Clifton House, July 21, 1864. 
 To the Honorable Horace Greeley: — 
 
 " Sir: — The paper handed to Mr. Holcombo on yesterday, in your presence, 
 by Major Haj', A. A. G., as an answer to the application in our note of the 
 18th instant, is couched in the following terms: — 
 
 "'Executive Mansion, Washington, D. C, July 18, 1864. 
 "' To whom it may concern : — 
 
 "'Any proposition which embraces the restoration of peace, the integrity 
 of the whole Union, and the abandonment of slavery, and which comes by 
 ajid with an authority that can control the armies now at wnr against the 
 United States, will be received and considered by the Executive (loveriiment 
 of tlie United States, and will be met by liberal terms, on other substantial 
 and collateral points, and the bearer or bearers thereof shall have safe-conduct 
 both ways. 
 
 " ' Abraham Lincoln.' 
 
510 DunixG THE war. 
 
 " The application to which we refer was elicited by your letter of the 17th 
 instant, in wliicli you infonn Mr. Jacob Thompson and oui-selves that you 
 were authorized by the President of the United States to tender us his safe- 
 conduct, on the hj^jothesis that we were ' duly accredited from Richmond as 
 bearers of propositions looking to the establishment of peace,' and desired a 
 visit to Washington in the fulfilment of this mission. This assertion, to which 
 we then gave and still do, entire credence, was accepted by us as the evidence 
 of an unexpected but most gi-atifying change in the policy of the President, — 
 a change which we felt authorized to hope might terminate in the conclusion 
 of a peace mutually just, honorable, and advantageous to the North and to the 
 South, exacting no condition but that we should be ' duly accredited from Kich- 
 mond as bearers of propositions looking to the establishment of peace.' Thus 
 proffering a basis for conference as comprehensive as we could desire, it seemed 
 to us that the President opened a door which had previously been closed against 
 the Confederate States for a full interchange of sentiments, free discussion of 
 conflicting opinions, and untrammelled effort to remove all causes of contro- 
 versy by liberal negotiations. We, indeed, could not claim the benefit of a safe- 
 conduct which had been extended to us in a character we had no right to assume, 
 and had never affected to possess; but the uniform declarations of our Execu- 
 tive and Congress, and then thrice-repeated and as often repulsed attempts to 
 open negotiations, furnish a sufficient pledge to us that this conciliatory mani- 
 festation on the part of the President of the United States would be met by 
 them in a temper of equal magnanimity. We had. therefore, no hesitation in 
 declaring that if this con-espondence was communicated to the ['resident of 
 the Confederate States, he would promptly embrace the opportunity presented 
 for seeking a peaceful solution of this unhappy strife. We feel confidont that 
 you must share oi;r profound regi'et that the spirit which dictated the first step 
 toward peace had not continued to animate the councils of your President. 
 Had the representatives of the two governments met to consider this question, 
 the most momentous ever submitted to human statesmanship, in a temper of 
 becoming moderation and equity, followed, as their deliberations would have 
 been, by the prayers and benedictions of every patriot and Christian on the 
 habitable globe, who is there so bold as to pronounce that the frightful waste 
 of individual happiness and public prosperity which is daily saddening the 
 universal heart might not have been terminated, or if the desolation and car- 
 nage of war must still be endured through weary years of blood and suflering, 
 that there might not at least have been infused into its conduct something 
 more of the spirit which softens and partially redeems its bi-utalities ? 
 
 "Instead of the safe-conduct which we solicited, and which your first letter 
 gave tis every reason to suppose would be extended for the pui-pose of initiat- 
 ing a negotiation, in which neither government would compromise its rights 
 or its dignity, a document has been presented which provokes as much indig- 
 nation as sui-prise. It bears no feature of resemblance to that which was origi- 
 nally offered, and is unlike any paper which ever before emanated from the 
 constitutional executive of a free people. Addressed ' to whom it may con- 
 cern,' it precludes negotiations, and prescribes in advance the terms and con- 
 
PEACE NEGOTIATIONS. 511 
 
 ditions of peace. It vehmis to the orisinal policy of ' no bargaining, no negotia- 
 tions, no traces with Rebels except to bury their dead, until every man shall 
 have laid down his arms, submitted to the government, and sued for mercy.' 
 
 " Whatever may be the explanation of this sudden and entire change in the 
 views of the President, of this rude withdrawal of a courteous overture for 
 negotiation at the moment it was likely to be accepted, of this emphatic recall 
 of words of peace just uttered, and fresh blasts of war to the bitter end, we 
 leave for the speculation of those who have the means or inclination to pene- 
 trate the mysteries of his cabinet, or fathom the caprice of his imperial will. 
 It is enough for us to say that we have no use whatever for the paper which 
 has been placed in our hands. 
 
 " We could not transmit it to the President of the Confederate States with- 
 out offering him an mdignity, dishonoring ourselves, and incurring the well- 
 merited scorn of our coimtrymen. While an ardent desire for peace pei-vades 
 the people of the Confederate States, we rejoice to believe that there are few, 
 if any, among them who would purchase it at the expense of liberty, honor, 
 and self-respect. If it can be secured only by their submission to terms of 
 conquest, the generation is yet unborn which will witness its restitution. 
 
 " If there be any military autocrat in the North who is entitled to proffer 
 the conditions of this manifesto, there is none in the South authorized to en- 
 tertain them. Those who control our armies are the servants of the people, — 
 not their masters; and they have no more inclination, than they have the 
 right, to subvert the social institutions of the sovereign States, to overthrow 
 thdr'established constitutions, and to barter away their priceless heritage of 
 self-government. This correspondence will not, however, we trust, prove 
 wholly barren of good result. 
 
 " If there is any citizen of the Confederate States who has clung to a hope 
 that peace was possible with this administration of the Federal government, 
 it will strip from his eyes the last film of such delusion; or if there be any 
 whose hearts have gi-own faint under the suffering and agony of this bloody 
 struggle, it will inspire them with fresh energy to endure and brave whatever 
 may yet be requisite to preserve to themselves and their children all that gives 
 dignity and value to life or hope and consolation to death. And if there be 
 any patriots or Christians in your land, who shrink appalled from the illimi- 
 table vista of private misery and public calamity which stretches before them, 
 we pray that in their bosoms a resolution may be quickened to recall the 
 abused authority, and vindicate the outraged civilization of their country. 
 For the solicitude you have manifested to inaugau-ate a movement which con- 
 templates results the most noble and humane we return our sincere thanks, 
 and are most respectfully and traly your obedient servants, 
 
 " C. C. Clay, .Jr. 
 James P. Holcombe." 
 
 Mr. Greeley returned to New York little pleased with tlio results 
 of liis mission, nor satisfied with the course of the administration. 
 He experienced tlie truth of Dr. Franklin's remark, that, however 
 
512 DURIXG THE WAR. 
 
 "blessed" peacerricakers may be in another world, tliey are usually 
 rewarded with^curses in this. Events have since shown that there 
 was never a moment during the war when the Confederate gov- 
 ernment would have entertained a proposition for peace on any 
 other basis than that of separation. 
 
 THE TRIBUNE OFFICE ATTACKED DURING THE DRAFT RIOTS OF 1863. 
 
 At the beginning of the war there was a slight disturbance in 
 Nassau Street, opposite the Herald office, in consequence of the 
 doubtful position of the Herald with regard to the opening con- 
 test. Upon the exhibition of the United States flag from one of 
 the windows of the Herald building, the people assembled cheered 
 the flag, and soon after dispersed. This event was reported in the 
 Tribune, in such a manner as to suggest the inference that the 
 Herald cared not which flag floated above its office, that of the 
 Union, or that of the Rebellion, and that nothing but the threats of 
 a mob determined its choice. The editor of the Herald took deep 
 ofience at this report, and seemed to be resolved to wreak upon his 
 neighbor a bloody vengeance. Almost every day, for the next 
 two years, an article or a paragraph appeared in the Herald, hold- 
 ing up the Tribune and its editor to popular execration, denouncing 
 them as the authors of the war, and intimating that the time would 
 come when the people would see this, and hang the editor upon a 
 lamp-post. Probably two hundred articles like the following could 
 be coUected from the columns of the Herald, during the first two 
 years of the war : — 
 
 " This crazy, contemptible wretch, who now asserts the equality of white 
 men and negroes, formerly asserted, with quite as much persistency and fer- 
 Tor, that all men should have property in common; that all persons should 
 live in common; that all women should be common prostitutes. These dam- 
 nable doctrines, under the names of Foun-ieriteism, phalanxism, and free-love- 
 ism, Greeley openly professed and daily advocated in his Tribune. One by 
 one these abominable bantlings of his have been strangled, and now abolition- 
 ism — which is a part of the same accursed brood — only remains. With the 
 others, he sought to break up all society and to abolish the institution of the 
 family. With this last he has attempted to break up the Union, and to put 
 white men and black upon an equality in everything. With the other isms 
 he did much harm, and debauched many innocent people. With this last, he 
 has involved us in a civil war, and sacrificed thousands of valuable lives. Un- 
 doubtedly Greeley's abolitionism will finally be put down, as his other isms 
 have been; but at what a terrible cost of blood and treasure will this be ac- 
 
ASSAULT UPON TlIK TIUBUXE OI'FICK. 513 
 
 complished ! When the white and bhick races are onoe aiTayed against each 
 other, one of them will be exterminated. To that ])oint, Greeley and his tool, 
 the black parson Garnett, are fast hastening matters. They are the enemies 
 of both the white and black races alike; their efforts injure the negroes as 
 much as they injure the white people. Sensible persons of both races hate 
 and despise them." 
 
 The following may serve as a specimen of the more elaborate 
 efforts of the Herald to excite odium against the editor of the 
 Tribune : — 
 
 " Deliberately, and with malice prepense, ' that horrible monster Greeley,' 
 as he is called upon the floor of Congress, has instigated this dreadful civil 
 war for years past, and carefully nurtured and fostered the abolition senti- 
 ment, with which he hoped to poison and kill the Republic. Most persons 
 suppose that a desire for gain has rendered him insane, and that visions of 
 rich plantations, confiscated from slaveholders and bestowed upon him, have 
 tempted him on in his ruinous path. Others regard him as one possessed of a 
 devil. Others still are of opinion that he is in his senses, and is only a bad man 
 made worse by cupidity and disappointment. We do not pretend to decide 
 which of these theories be con-ect; but it is certain that until recently he has 
 made but very little money by his wickedness. Like the magician's gold, all 
 of his ill-gotten gains brought him ruin. He acknowledged in his Tribune that 
 he had lost money by the publication of his paper last year, and he wrote 
 penny-a-line articles for weekly papers in order to make a living. The publi- 
 cation was continued, therefore, only that the paper might be used to secure 
 offices and contracts. It has now no circulation and less advertising, and 
 lives only by illegitimate aid. Its fruit is blood and spoils. Sam Wilkeson of 
 the Tribune acknowledged that ho had kept a Tribune contract bureau at 
 Washington. The official correspondence of Secretary of War Cameron shows 
 that the Tribune Association has gun contracts. In the following tables we 
 have collected some of the items of expenditure in treasure and blood for 
 which the country is indebted to the Tribune : — 
 
 " GOVERNMENT OF THE UNITED STATES IN ACCOUNT WITH NEW YORK 
 
 TRIBUNE. Dr. 
 
 To a civil war, fomented by Trib.une abolitionists, costing the country 
 in crisis, ruined commerce, suspended manufactures, army expenses, 
 
 losses in trade, &c., about $2,000,000,000.00 
 
 To the loss of Fort Sumter, and the faihire of the expedition for the re- 
 lief, caused by the revelations of Ilarvcy, the Tribune's Washing- 
 ton correspondent 2,000,000.00 
 
 To losses at the battle of Bull Run, caused by the Tribune's 'Onward 
 to Richmond' articles, amounting, according to Thurlow Weed, 
 
 to about ■ . . 100,000,000.00 
 
 To delays, extra expenses, &c., caused by the Tribune's assaults upon 
 
 General McClellan, say 200,000,000.00 
 
 22* GG 
 
514 nuuiNG TriR wah. 
 
 To the abolition campaign of Fremont in Missouri, inoluilins mule, 
 
 blanket, and musket contracts $50,000,000.00 
 
 To Banks's disaster, caused by the Tribune abolitionists and their iu- 
 
 trigues against McClcllan 10,000,000.00 
 
 To various emancipation schemes, darkey schools, nigger conservatories 
 at Beaufort, and General Hunter's squashed proclamation, includ- 
 ing expenditures for red trousers, and Tribune muskets . . . 5,000,000.00 
 To daily attacks upon the administration and the army, encouraging 
 
 the llebels and weakening the Union cause, say .... 100,000,000.00 
 To a contract for 25,000 muskets, obtained by the Tribune Gun Associ- 
 ation, and sub-let to outside parties 625,000.00 
 
 To a second contract for 40,000 muskets, sub-let as above . . . 500,000.00 
 To Greeley's pay, franking, pickings, books, and mjleage, while in 
 
 Congress 5,000.00 
 
 To salary of Harvey, of the Tribune, Minister to Portugal, four years 30,000.00 
 To salary of Pike, of the Tribune, Minister to the Netherlands, four 
 
 years 30,000.00 
 
 To salary of Hildreth, of the Tribune, Consul at Trieste, four years 3,000.00 
 
 To salary of Fry, of the Tribune, Secretary of Legation at Sardinia . 7,200.00 
 To salary of Bayard Taylor, of the Tribune, Secretary of Legation at 
 
 St. Petersburg 7,200.00 
 
 To profit on various jobs and contracts of Camp, stockholder of the 
 
 Tribune 500,000.00 
 
 To profit of Almy, of the Tribune, on gun contracts . . . . 250,000.00 
 
 To profit of Snow, of the Tribune, on gun contracts .... 100,000.00 
 
 To profit of Hall, stockholder of the Tribune, on army shoes . . 50,000.00 
 To profit of Dr. Ayer, stockholder of the Tribune, on Cherry Pectoral 
 
 for the army • 50,000.00 
 
 To profit of Wilkeson, of the Tribune, on the 'Tribune's Contract Bu- 
 reau' at Washington ^05 
 
 Total, $2,469,162,400.05 
 
 " So much for tho spoils; and now for the blood. The following list, it will 
 be observed, does not include the captured, the missing, or the sick Union sol- 
 diers, — losses equally chargeable to the Tribune and the Abolitionists : — 
 
 Killed. Wounded. 
 
 "To Bull Run 481 1,011 
 
 To Davis Creek, Mo 223 721 
 
 To Lexington, Mo 39 120 
 
 To Ball's Bluff 223 266 
 
 To Belmont 84 288 
 
 To Mill Spring, Ky 89 207 
 
 To Fort Henry 17 31 
 
 To Roanoke Island 60 222 
 
 To Fort Donelson 446 1 ,735 
 
 To Fort Craig, New Mexico 62 140 
 
 To Pea Ridge 203 972 
 
 To Attack of the Merrimac 301 108 
 
 To Newbern 91 466 
 
 To Winchester 182 540 
 
ASSAULT ON THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 515 
 
 To Pittsburg Landing 1,735 7,882 
 
 • To Yorktowu 35 120 
 
 To Forts Jackson and St. PhiUp 30 119 
 
 To Williamsburg 455 1,411 
 
 To West Point 44 100 
 
 To McDowell 87 226 
 
 To near Corinth 21 149 
 
 To Ranks's retreat, estimated 100 300 
 
 To Hanover Court-House 53 296 
 
 To Fair Oaks 890 3,627 
 
 To Port Republic (Fremont) 131 456 
 
 To Port HcpubUc (Shields) 67 370 
 
 To seven days' contests, estimated 4,000 11,000 
 
 To skirmishes 690 1,740 
 
 Total 10,889 36,822 
 
 " We bring the account current of the Tribune up to date. What greater 
 disasters it may bring upon us in the future, if not soon suppressed, time alone 
 can tell. By its opposition to McClellan it lias indefinitely prolonged the war, 
 added immensely to our expenses in men and money, and made European inter- 
 vention probable. Its motive for this is self-evident, — it is self-interest. Poor 
 Greeley makes money out of the war. He has contracts which cease when the 
 war ceases, and tlierefore he is determined that the war shall continue. Mad 
 with greed, he rushes onward to his ruin. In vain his army correspondent 
 ' S. W.' assures him that he and his associates are ' doomed men.' He will 
 not cease to do evil until the government or the people shall lose all patience, 
 and suddenly annihilate him and his infamous Tribune. That time now seems 
 not very distant. He will be fairly tried, and if found insane, he will be sent 
 to an asylum ; if sane, to the gallows. This monster, ogre, ghoul, will soon 
 feast his last upon Union blood and national spoils." 
 
 In many articles the mob was incited to make Mr. Greeley the 
 first victim of their vengeance. '"If," said the Herald, "we decide 
 to hang the Abolitionists, poor Greeley shall swing on the post of 
 honor at the head or tail of the lot. We promise him that high 
 honor." 
 
 These efforts were at length crowned with some degree of suc- 
 cess. The Tribune office was assailed by a mob during the draft 
 riots of July, 1863, and its editor would certainly have been put to 
 death but for the precautionary measures of his friends. It fell to 
 my lot to witness the attempt to destroy the Tribune building. 
 On Monday, the first day of the disturbance, about four o'clock in 
 the afternoon, my wife and I were stroUing down Fourteenth 
 Street in that languid state of mind which writers know who have 
 spent a long morning at the desk. Near the corner of the Fifth 
 
516 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 Avenue we were startled from our state of vacancy by a large 
 stone falling' upon the pavement before us, which was followed by 
 a yell of many voices, and the swift galloping past of a horse with 
 a black man on his back. "We saw streaming down the Fifth Ave- 
 nue a crowd of ill-dressed and ill-favored men and boys, each car- 
 rying a long stick or piece of board, and one or two of them a 
 rusty musket. They were walking rapidly and without order, on 
 the sidewalk and in the street, and extended perhaps a quarter of 
 a mile ; in all, there may have been two hundred of them. The 
 stone which had recalled our attention to sublunary things was 
 aimed by one of these scoundrels at the negro, who owed his es- 
 cape from instant death to his being on horseback. 
 
 Having heard nothing of the riots of that morning, we were puz- 
 zled to account for the presence of this motley crew in a region 
 usually so serene, until one of them cried out, as he passed, " There 
 's a three-hundred-dollar fellow." When the main body had gone 
 by, I asked one of the stragglers where they were going. The 
 reply was, " To the ' Trybune ' office." 
 
 It was a strange looking gang of ruffians. I have lived in New 
 York from childhood, and supposed myself to be pretty well ac- 
 quainted with the various classes of its inhabitants. But I did not 
 recognize that crowd. I know not to this day whence they came 
 nor whither they vanished. Three fourths of them were under 
 twenty-one years of age, and many were not more than fourteen. 
 The clubs with which they were armed were all extempore, evi- 
 dently seized, as they passed, from some pile of old boards and 
 timber. Their clothes were not of any kind of shabbiness that I 
 have ever seen in our streets. They were not the garments of 
 laborers or mechanics, nor of any other class usually seen here. I 
 should say they might be dock thieves, plunderers of ship-yards, 
 and stealers of old iron and copper. 
 
 It occurred to me that, by taking an omnibus, I could get ahead 
 of the gang, and give warning at the office threatened, — about a 
 mile and a half distant. So we hurried to Broadway ; but the om- 
 nibuses being full, I strode on at a great pace down town, and thus 
 had the exquisite satisfaction of seeing that crew of villains put to 
 flight near the corner of Tenth Street. It so happened that, just 
 as the head of the gang turned into Broadway, a body of policemen 
 was passing on toward the scene of the riots up town. The police 
 
ASSAULT ON THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 517 
 
 instantly formed into two lines, extending from curbstone to curb- 
 stone, and rushed upon the mob. " Strike hard and take no pris- 
 oners," was the word. There was a rattling of clubs for a moment, 
 a dozen knock-down blows given, and the ruffians fled by every 
 street, leaving their wounded in the mud. Tlic police re-formed in 
 marching order, and continued their course, making no arrests. It 
 was all over in about a minute. All the wounded were able to get 
 away, except one, who staggered into a drug-store as I got into an 
 omnibus. He was evidently in a damaged condition about the 
 head, and his face was covered with blood. Only one of the police 
 was hit, and he was able to go on with his company. 
 
 At the Tribune office everything wore an aspect so little unusual 
 that I felt rather ashamed to tell my story. The windows and 
 doors were all open, the business office was nearly empty, the ed- 
 itorial rooms quite so, and there was no crowd around the build- 
 ing. The reporters and editors were absent, collecting details of 
 the riot. 
 
 While I was suggesting the propriety of shutting up the office, 
 as a precautionary measure, Mr. Grilmore (Edmund Kirke) came 
 in, and to him I stated what I had seen and heard. He was 
 fully alive to the situation, and proposed that we should go to 
 the Chief of Police and to General "Wool, and see what was pre- 
 pared for the protection of the office during the night. We went. 
 At police head-quarters, we found a squad of more than a hundred 
 men drawn up on the sidewalk, who, we were assured, would 
 march to the office and remain on guard there. This seemed suf- 
 ficient; but, to make assurance doubly sure, Mr. Gilmore insisted 
 on our going to General Wool. We found the General at the St. 
 Nicholas Hotel, with the Mayor and a staffi Mr. Gilmore pro- 
 cured from him an order on the ordnance officer at Governor's Isl- 
 and for one hundred muskets, and the requisite ammunition. He 
 started immediately for the island ; and I, satisfied that the Trib- 
 une was safe, walked leisurely to the office to report progress. 
 
 It. was about seven in the evening when I reached it. The ap- 
 pearance of the neighborhood had changed. The office was closed, 
 and the shutters were up. A large number of people were in the 
 open space in front of it, talking in groups, but not in aloud or ex- 
 cited manner. Not a policeman was to be seen. Upon getting into 
 the office, I found only two or three persons there, neither of whom 
 
518 nirRINO THK WAU. 
 
 kuow ftuy (liiu^- about the body ol' polire detailed to f^uard (lie prom 
 ises, nor had they heard of any nioasiiros taken to doliMid it. Thoir 
 otlioial position nuulo it thoir duty to stand by the ship; and tlioro 
 thoy wtTO, holpU^ss and aUnu>. Crossinj^ over to the pohce station 
 in the City Hall, in search of the promised squad, I found one po- 
 lieeuuiu in charge, Avho said that a hundred and ten men had, ia- 
 lieed, eomo down to that station; but that, upi>u a rumor of a riot 
 in the First Ward, they had immediately marched asvay again. 
 Aa Mr. Gilnu>re could not possibly get back with the arms under 
 two ho\u-s, tlio oflico was no safer than before. 
 
 I went among the crowd in front of the Tribune otVu-c, to learu 
 the tone of the conversation going on there. There was nothing 
 ronuirkable in the appearance of the peo[)le, most of whom seemed 
 to be nuM-ely attracted by curiosity, and detained by the impulse 
 there is at such times for people to gather in knots and talk. One 
 good-natured looking bull of a man was declaiming a little. " What 
 is the use of killing the niggers?" said he. "The niggers haven't 
 UonO nothing. They did n't bring themselves here, did they ? 
 They are peaceable enough! Thoy don't interfere with nobody." 
 Then pointing to the editorial rooms of the Tribune, he exclaimed, 
 *' Them are the niggers np there." Others were holding forth in 
 a similar strain. 
 
 Little by little the crowd gathered more closely about the otlice, 
 and became more eomi>act. The sidewalk was kept pretty dear; 
 but from the curbstone back to the middle of the square there was 
 a mass of people who stood looking at the building, which loomed 
 np in the dusk of the evening, unlightod and apparently nnoccu- 
 pied. 'fhe crowd was still very quiet. At length a small gang of 
 such fclU)ws as I had seen demolished by the police in the alter- 
 noon i-ame along from Chatham Street and mingled with tlie 
 crowd, which from that time began to be a little noisy. A voice 
 would utter something, and the rest of the people would laugh or 
 cheer, or both. It was the laughter and cheers which appeared to 
 work the mob up to the point of committing violence. Graijually 
 the shouts became louder and much more frequent. At last a 
 stone was thrown, which hit one of the shutters and fell upon the 
 pavement close to the building. This was greeted by a perfect yell 
 of applause; anil then, for the first tinm, I felt that the ollice wjuj 
 in danger. Belbre that, tlie crowd had laughed too much to sag- 
 
ASSAULT OX THK TUIBUNE OFFICE- 519 
 
 gest the foar that it meant mischief. Besides, the fringe of the 
 crowd nearest the building was composed of boys, — newsboys, 
 apparently, — some of whom were not more tlian twelve years old. 
 
 I ran over to the police station at the City Hall. A few police- 
 men were there, to whom I said : — 
 
 "The mob are beginning to throw stones at the Tribune oflice. 
 Five men can stop the mischief now; in ten minutes a hundred 
 cannot." 
 
 It happened that the number of men present was si.x, live of 
 whom very promptly drew their club.s, and repaired to the scene. 
 By the time they arrived stones were flying fast, and little boys 
 would run forward, under the shower of missiles, pick up a stone 
 or two, and run back. Occasionally a window would be broken, 
 eliciting a yell of triumph from the mob. The five men went 
 boldly along the sidewalk, and gained a position between the oflice 
 and the crowd. The firing totally ceased for a minute or two, and 
 the mob slunk away from the police, as if fearing, po.ssibIy, revolv- 
 ers. Very soon, however, the smallness of the force became appar- 
 ent; no revolvers were shown; and tlie stones again began to bat- 
 ter against the shutters and smash the windows. The mob surged 
 forward; those in front being pushed upon the clubs of thi; police- 
 men, who were soon overpowered and thrust aside. Then the mob 
 rushed at the lower shutters and doors. There was a loud banging 
 and thumping of clubs, and, in an exceedingly short time, amid the 
 most frantic yells of the multitude, the main door was forced, and 
 the mob poured into the building. I supposed then that the Trib- 
 une was gone. But at that moment the report of a pistol was 
 heard, fired somewhere in front of the building, whether from one 
 of the windows or from a policeman below, I know not. Instantly 
 most of the assailants took to flight, and Printing-House Square 
 appeared as empty as it usually is at two o'clock in the morning. 
 It was like magic. The gates of the opposite Park were choked 
 with fugitives. Before the dastards had time to rally a wliole 
 army of blue uniforms came up Nassau Street, at the double-quick, 
 and the olfice was saved. These men, I suppose, were the original 
 one hundred and ten detailed for the purpose ; but, in the dim light 
 of the evening, it seemed as if Nassau Street was a rushing torrent 
 of dark-blue cloth, flecked with the foam of human faces. 
 
 Mr. Greeley was slow to believe that anything serious was in- 
 
520 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 tended by those who opposed the draft. One of his associates said 
 to him that morning : " We must arm the office. This is not a riot ; 
 it is a revohition." 
 
 "No," rei"»hed the editor; "do not bring a musket into the build- 
 ing. Let them strike the first blow. All my life I have worked 
 for the working-men; if they would now burn my office and hang 
 me, why, let them do it." 
 
 Mr. Gilmore may continue the story of the assault upon the of- 
 fice: "While these events were going on, the senior editor of the 
 Tribune was quietly reading the evening newspaper at his up-town 
 lodgings, in happy ignorance of the drama that was being enacted 
 in Printing-House Square. His dinner had been a somewhat 
 lengthy one, owing to the fact that his friends, to keep him away 
 from his office as long as possible, had shrewdly ordered viands 
 that consumed a long time in cooking. But they were done at 
 last; and the repast over, this man, who was marked out for the 
 especial fury of the populace, rose to go openly back- to his office, 
 and write another editorial. He was in Ann Street; and all Nas- 
 sau Street, and Printing-House Square, and Broadway around the 
 corner, was filled with an excited crowd clamoring, ' Down with 
 the Tribune ! ' ' Down with the old white coat what counts a nayger 
 as good as an Irishman ! ' He could not have gone ten paces without 
 recognition ; and recognition by that mob meant death in ten min- 
 utes from the nearest lamp-post. In these circumstances, it was 
 fortunate that he was attended by a friend (Theodore Tilton) who 
 was fully alive to the danger. For a time the Tribune editor in- 
 sisted that he would not be kept from his office by a crew of riot- 
 ers, but at last he was persuaded that ' discretion is the better part 
 of valor,' and consented to be driven homeward. A carriage was 
 brought, the curtains were drawn down, and entering with his 
 two friends he was hurried through the very midst of the mob to 
 his home on one of the up-town avenues. He had escaped immi- 
 nent peril; and safely arrived there, might have drawn a long 
 breath; but it is more than likely that he did not, for all through 
 the riots he seemed totally oblivious to the fact that he was in any 
 personal danger." 
 
 In the course of the evening Mr. Gilmore returned with an 
 abundant supply of arms and ammunition, and the office was thor- 
 oughly fortified. Mr. Gilmore adds the following particulars: — 
 
ASSAULT ON THE TRIBUNE OFFICE. 521 
 
 "As he went down Broadway, the managing editor heard that 
 the Tribune building had been sacked and burned ; but he kept on, 
 and in half an hour reached the office, just as the police were driv- 
 ing off the rear-guard of the rioters. Entering the lower story, he 
 came upon a scene which beggared description. In tlie two min- 
 utes they had held possession the -mob had accomplisjjed the most 
 thorough and complete destruction. Xot an article of furniture re- 
 mained in its proper position. Gas-burners were twi.sUid off, coun- 
 ters torn up, desks overturned, doors and windows battered in; 
 and, in the centre of the room, two charred spots, littered over 
 with paper cinders, showed where fires had been kindled to reduce 
 the buildin'g to ashes. 
 
 " A.«cending to the upper stories, he found the editorial rooms si- 
 lent and deserted by all save one of the corps, — the brave Smalley, 
 who, a year before, had ridden by the side of Hooker through the 
 fire of the bloody field of Antietam. The composing-rooms, also, 
 had but a single tenant, — the rest having escaped by the roof when 
 the mob attacked the building. Out of a force of a Jiundred and 
 fifly men, only three were at their posts. But, if the wlixjle num- 
 ber had stood their ground, what could they, unarmed, have done 
 against a furious mob of five thousand? 
 
 " But the editor did not waste thought on this subject ; for it was 
 already eight o'clock at night, and, before daybreak, fifty thousand 
 copies of his journal had to be in press, and borne on the four winds 
 to every quarter of the country. Looking down on the street, he 
 saw that the mob had dispersed ; and, quietly sallying out, he ral- 
 lied a dozen of his printers. With this small force he began work ; 
 but soon, one by one, the others fell in, and in half an hour the 
 types were clicking, and the monster press was rumbling, as if 
 only quiet reigned over the great city." 
 
 The vengeance which Mr. Greeley took upon the editor of the 
 Herald was of the kind described in Scripture as "heaping coals 
 of fire upon the head." During the Presidential campaign of 1864 
 Mr. Lincoln and his friends deemed the support of the Herald al- 
 mo.st essential to his success, and that support was deliberately pur- 
 chased. The price paid was the proffer of the mission to France, 
 This bargain was made known to several editors of Republican 
 newspapers, who agreed not to denounce it. Mr. Greeley was 
 even prevailed upon to insert in the Tribune a paragraph, written 
 
522 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 by another hand, in which the editor of the Herald was commended 
 as a proper person to represent the United States at the court of 
 France. I have no more doubt that Mr. Greeley's motives in coun- 
 tenancing this iaargain were patriotic than I have that the act was 
 wrong. It was not only wrong, but impolitic, since the city of 
 New York, where the Herald chiefly circulates, and where alone 
 it can be said to have any influence over votes, gave to the candi- 
 date for the Presidency opposed to Mr. Lincoln the great majority 
 of thirty-seven thousand. We must remember, however, that 
 when this compact was made the prospects of the United States 
 were gloomy in the extreme ; and to many men the clamorous sup- 
 port of the Herald was supposed to be desirable, oven though pur- 
 chased by the sacrifice of honor. 
 
 During the year 1863, when the immense expenses in which the 
 war involved the Tribune consumed the profits of the establish- 
 ment, Mr. Greeley accepted a very liberal offer from Messrs. Case 
 & Co. of Hartford, to write a history of the war, and, during the 
 next two or three years, he performed two days' work in one. At 
 nine in the morning he shut himself up in his room in the "Bible 
 House" with an amanuensis, and worked upon his history until 
 four in the afternoon ; after which he went down town, dined, and 
 labored upon the newspaper until eleven at night. And, as if this 
 were not enough, he frequently snatched an hour or two during the 
 evening to address a political meeting. The history was finished 
 in 1865, and has had a sale of a hundred and fifty thousand copies, 
 and is still in active demand. No one knows better than Mr. Gree- 
 ley that the complete and final history of the war has not yet be- 
 come possible, and will not for some years to come. Nevertheless, 
 it may be said of Mr. Greeley's work, that it is the most valuable 
 contribution to the means of understanding the war, both in its 
 causes and in its results, that has yet been made by an individual. 
 The spirit of it is high, humane, and every way admirable, and it 
 contains an astonishing mass of instructive details. Mr. Greeley 
 says in his Preface, and truly says: "I shall labor constantly to 
 guard against the error of supposing that all the heroism, devoted- 
 ness, humanity, chivalry, evinced in the contest were displayed on 
 one side ; all the cowardice, ferocity, cruelty, rapacity, and general 
 depravity, on the other. I believe it to be the truth, and as such 
 I shall endeavor to show that, while this war has been signaUzed 
 
PRIZES FOR IMPROVED FRUITS. 523 
 
 by some deeds disgraceful to human nature, the general behavior 
 of the combatants on either side has been calculated to do honor 
 even to the men who, though fearfully misguided, are still our 
 countrymen, and to exalt the prestige of the American name." 
 The dedication of the work was as follows : — 
 
 TO 
 
 JOHN BRIGHT, 
 
 BRITISH COMMONER AND CHUISTIAN STATESMAN: 
 
 THE FRIEND OF MY COUNTRY, BECAUSE THE FRIEND OF MANKIKD : 
 
 THIS RECORD OF A NATION'S STRUGGLE 
 
 DP 
 
 FROM DARKNESS AND BONDAGE TO LIGHT AND LIBERTT, 
 
 IS REGARDFULLY, GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 la 1864, when the subscriptions to the forthcoming history prom- 
 ised to put a little money in Mr. Greeley's pocket, he concluded to 
 spend a few hundred dollars of it in the manner indicated in the 
 following article : — 
 
 "IMPROVED VARIETIES OF FRUIT. 
 
 " So much has been well done within the last few years in Amer- 
 ican fruit-growing, that it seems feasible to do still more, or at least 
 to realize more extensively and rapidly the benefit of past improve- 
 ments. 
 
 "I. Perhaps the most signal advance has been made in the pro- 
 duction of Grapes. There are probably twenty-fold more grapes 
 grown for sale in this country to-day than there were thirty years 
 ago, while the improvement in current varieties, in culture and in 
 quality, has been equally decided. Still, we are growing far too 
 many inferior grapes, while our established favorites are too gener- 
 ally deficient in one or more respects ; they require too long a sea- 
 son, or they have some notable defect as a table-fruit. So much 
 labor has been wasted on varieties of foreign origin, that it is not 
 deemed advisable to incite to further effort in that direction. There 
 is not to-day in the United States a good table-grape of foreign 
 origin that can safely be grown in open air, north of the Potomac 
 
524 DURING THE WAR. 
 
 and the Ohio. But it is plausibly claimed that several substantially 
 new or little known varieties of domestic origin are of liigh quality, 
 fulfilling all the requisites of choice table-fruit. It is time that these 
 claims were tested and passed upon by disinterested and capable 
 judges. As a humble contribution toward this end, I hereby offer 
 a premium- of $ 100 for the best plate of native grapes, weighing not 
 less than six pounds, of any variety known to the growers or propa- 
 gators of this country. I require that the grapes competing for this 
 premium shall ripen earlier than the Isabella, Catawba, or Diana, 
 none of which is considered well adapted to a season no longer and 
 no hotter and drier than ours. The berries must be of at least 
 good medium size, and not liable to fall from the stem when ripe. 
 The flesh must be melting and tender quite to the centre. The 
 flavor must be pure, rich, vinous, and exhilarating. The vine must 
 be healthy, productive, of good habit of growth for training in yards 
 and gardens as well as in vineyards, witli leaves at least as hardy 
 and well adapted to our climate as those of the Delaware. In short, 
 what is sought is a vine which embodies the best qualities of the 
 most approved American and foreign varieties, so far as possible. 
 
 "I propose to pay this premium on the award of the fruit depart- 
 ment of the American Institute, and invite competition for it at the 
 annual fair of that Institute soon to open ; but, if a thoroughly sat- 
 isfactory grape should not now be presented, the Institute will of 
 course postpone the award till the proper claimant shall have ap- 
 peared. 
 
 " II. I offer a further premium of $ 100 for the best bushel of 
 Apples, of a variety which combines general excellence with the 
 quality of keeping in good condition at least to the 1st of February, 
 and is adapted to the climate and soil of the Northern and Middle 
 States. 
 
 " It is not required that the apple submitted for competition shall 
 be new ; but it is hoped that one may bo found which combines 
 the better characteristics of such popular favorites as the Northern 
 Spy, Baldwin, Greening, and Newton Pippin, or a majority of 
 them. Let us see if there be not a better apple than the established 
 favorites; if not, let ns acknowledge and act upon the truth. 
 
 "III. I further offer a premium of $100 for the best bushel of 
 Pear3 of a specific variety, — size, flavor, season, &c., being all con- 
 sidered. It must be a pear adapted to general cultivation. It need 
 
PRIZK.S FOR IMPROVED FRUITS. 525 
 
 not be a new sort, provided it be unquestionably superior; but one 
 object of the premium is to develop unacknowledged excellence if 
 such shall be found to exist. 
 
 "One object of these offers is to afford a landmark for fruit- 
 growers in gardens and on small farms, who are now l^ewildered by 
 the multiplicity of sorts challenging their attention, each setting up 
 claims to unapproachable excellence. I leave the determination of 
 all questions which may arise as to the propriety of making a 
 prompt award, or awaiting further developments, entirely to the 
 
 appropriate department of the Institute. 
 
 "Horace Greeley. 
 "New York, September 22, 18G1" 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 Horace Greeley's plan — His mediation between President Johnson and Congress — He joins 
 in bailing Jefferson Davis — His speech at Richmond. 
 
 No reader of this work need be informed how Horace Greeley 
 felt toward the people of the Southern States when the war ended. 
 Unless his nature had suddenly changed, he could have had no 
 other than a friendly feeling toward them, and an intense desire 
 for the restoration of good feeling between the two sections of the 
 Union. His policy of reconstruction is summed up in four words. 
 a thousand times repeated in the Tribune : " Universal amnesty, 
 
 IMPARTIAL SUFFRAGE." 
 
 To this simple but all-including plan he has constantly adhered, 
 until at the present moment there is a prospect of its speedy and 
 complete adoption. 
 
 In a speech delivered in March, 1866, he expressed his views 
 with clearness and force. 
 
 "What has the war decided? First, all men agree that our 
 war's close has settled this point : that we — all the States compos- 
 ing this Federal Union — are not a mere confederacy ; we are not 
 a league ; we are not an alliance : we are a nation. This country 
 of ours, this American people, compose a nation; and your alle- 
 giance and ray allegiance is due, primarily, to the country, to the 
 United States, and not to New York, nor New Jersey, nor Penn- 
 sylvania, nor Virginia, wherever we may happen to live, — not to 
 our State, but to our country. There were differences of opinion 
 about this before the war, but I believe that all men now agree that 
 the point has been settled ; and, whatever may have been heretofore 
 believed or taught with regard to State rights or the right of seces- 
 sion, it is generally conceded now that that issue has been settled, 
 and that, first and above all things, we are a nation. 
 
 "Now, then, this conclusion carries very much more with it; for, 
 if the government of the United States is entitled to your alle- 
 giance and my allegiance, primarily, then we are entitled to its 
 
HORACE GUEKI.FA''S PLAN. 527 
 
 protection. It cannot be that in the one case the Union is entitled 
 to our first and paramount allegiance, and, on the other hand, wo 
 are not entitled to that Union's paramount and complete protec- 
 tioti. If the State may wrest from me tlie protection of my coun- 
 try, — if the State may stand between me and the country and say, 
 * The nation decrees this ; but we will do with you as we please, 
 in spite of the nation,' — then it is most unjust that the nation 
 should demand from me my allegiance at the same time that it 
 withholds from me its protection. I think all men say yes to this. 
 
 " But that conclusion reaches very much further than many of 
 us would be willing to follow it ; for, if what I have said is true 
 with regard to white men, it is also true with regard to black men. 
 If the government of the United States, before and above all else, 
 is entitled to the allegiance of every great and every small man, 
 every intelligent and every ignorant man, every white and every 
 black man in the country, then that government, before all else, is 
 bound to protect these men in their rights as free men. So, when 
 I am asked, ' From whence do you derive the power of the govern- 
 ment to pass and make law the Freedmen's Bureau Bill and the 
 Civil Rights Bill, especially the Civil Rights Bill?' I answer, 'I de- 
 rive it from the fact that the government claims, and rightfully 
 claims, the allegiance of those men, and therefore owes them its 
 protection.' 
 
 " I believe it is conceded by all men now that the war has set- 
 tled one other thing, that this is to be a land of only free people. 
 It is not to be a land part slave and part free ; but it is to be a land 
 of freemen ; frcedmen, we say, with regard' to some of our people 
 fo-day, those who were lately enslaved, but their children will not 
 be freedmen, but free men. There are none in this land to-day, law- 
 fully and rightfully, but free people, and this point even those who 
 differ most widely from us all admit: that wo are, and henceforth 
 are to be, a nation of free men." 
 
 Then, as to the blacks and their right to citizenship : — 
 
 " While slavery existed, there was a tremendous class interest 
 which was hostile to the recognition of human equality. You 
 could not expect human nature, such as it is, to give away, or to 
 put away, $4,000,000,000 worth of property, even though we have 
 grossly exaggerated our estimate of its value. But it is very hard 
 for men to give up what is to them capital, wealth, ease, conse- 
 
528 KECOXSTRUCTION. 
 
 quenco, importance, to throw this aside and say, 'No, we will come 
 down to a plain level with other people.' It is very hard to do 
 this, and it is a good deal to ask them to do it. 
 
 "But slavery being gone; no longer an interest; nothing but a 
 prejudice to overcome, nothing but a rapacity reaching out for 
 power, — I have no fears that they will last forever ; I have no 
 fear that we shall go on quarrelling about a matter so perfectly 
 clear as the right of freemen, four millions of freemen, to a voice in 
 the government of their country. It cannot be that this question 
 shall be settled wrong, when there is not on the face of the earth 
 one other nation than this in which it is settled wrong. There are 
 republics and limited monarchies and aristocracies and despotisms, 
 but there is no other land but ours on earth where a freeman, sim- 
 ply because of his color, is deprived of the essential riglits of a free- 
 man where everybody enjoys them. 
 
 "Brazil is a .slaveholding country, and has been for these three 
 hundred years, but there the colored freeman has the same right 
 as every other freeman. Now, then, I say it is not possible that 
 this poor remnant of a bygone prejudice, — a prejudice which was 
 perfectly intelligible while slavery existed in the country, — it is 
 not possible that this poor remnant of a prejudice shall remain for- 
 ever to distract and divide us. It will not be. We shall ultimately 
 settle our differences on the basis of equal rights for all men before 
 the law. 
 
 "But when I say this, I never mean that the Avorthless, bad, 
 profligate, desperate, wicked man has equal rights with the good 
 man; nobody believes he has or will have, but that the law will 
 be so fixed, and the Constitution so amended, that every peaceable, 
 good man shall have a voice in the government of his country. 
 That we insist upon as his privilege, — not that every bad man 
 shall vote, but that every man who is a good, law-abiding citizen 
 shall have a voice in the government of his country. 
 
 ***** 
 
 "The President says that if the freedmen are allowed to vote, 
 the whites will kill them. Now I say I never heard a better argu- 
 ment for letting them vote. If the men among whom they live are 
 so unfriendly, that if the black men are permitted to vote they will 
 kill them, certainly the men who cherish such a purpose are not 
 worthy of being trusted with the rights of those black men. But 
 
HORACE GREELKV'S TI-AX. 529 
 
 this is only an exaggerated statement of a trutli. A very great 
 dislike, a hatred of the freedmcn, does undoulitedly exist among 
 the people of the South. They are a sore people, and very proud. 
 They still feel revengeful toward those who deli-ated them in war; 
 and they do not feel quite strong enough to whip the Union for 
 it, but they do feel able to punish the blacks, and no doubt a great 
 many of them feel and say, ' We '11 make these niggers realize that 
 liberty is not such a very fine thing for them as they think it is.' 
 
 "Now, I say, if we allowed the people at the South who lelt and 
 fought with us to be cast, bound hand and foot, into the i)o\ver of 
 the people who fought against us, we can have no true prosperity, 
 North or South. It will be as it was in Spain when she banished 
 her Moors, the most industrious, thrifty, and ingenious of her popu- 
 lation ; as it was in France when she expelled the Huguenots, and 
 with them expelled productive manufacture and useful art, to her 
 own great detriment and injury. If tlie late Rebels are allowed to 
 work their will on the black population, they will never be satisfied 
 until that population is either exiled or destroyed, driven out of the 
 country or out of the world. Now, then, it becomes us, the loyal 
 people of the North, who have profited by the good-will and the 
 loyalty of the black people of the South, who have triumphed in 
 the grandest struggle the woi'ld ever saw, in part by their ample 
 aid, — for never yet was there a Northern soldier escaping from a 
 Southern prison-house, no matter how great a copperhead he may 
 have been at home, who did not seek the black man's cabin for 
 aid, and shelter, and guidance; no Northern Democratic soldier, 
 however strong may have been his party attachments, ever sought 
 a Southern Democrat for shelter when he was escaping from prison, 
 — it becomes us, I say, to see to it that these black Union men do 
 not fall unprotected into the hands of their enemies." 
 
 Every one knows how this affair of reconstruction has been com- 
 plicated and delayed by the defection of President Johnson from 
 the party which elected him. Mr. Greeley was one of those who 
 strove to prevent the disagreement between Congress and the Pres- 
 :<lent, indications of which he early discovered. In September, 
 1866, he thus related his endeavors to reunite the two diverging 
 departments of the government: — 
 
 " Soon after our last State election, and before the assembling of 
 the present Congress, I went, not uninvited, to Washington, ex- 
 
 23 HH 
 
i)30 r.ECONSTUUCTIOX. 
 
 pressly to guard against such a difference. Being admitted to an 
 interview with the President, I urged him to call to Washington 
 three of the most eminent and trusted expositors of Northern anti^ 
 slavery sentiment, and three equally eminent and representative 
 Southern ex-Rebels, and ask them to take up their residence at the 
 White House for a week, a fortnight, so long as they might find 
 necessary, while they, by free and friendly conference and discus- 
 sion, should earnestly endeavor to find a common ground whereon 
 the North and the South should be not merely reconciled, but made 
 evermore fraternal and harmonious. I suggested that the Presi- 
 dent should occasionally, as he could find time, drop in on these 
 conferences, and offer such suggestions as he should deem fit, — 
 rather as a moderator or common friend, than as a party to the 
 discussion. 
 
 "A suggestion of names being invited, I proposed those of Gov- 
 ernor Andrew of Massachusetts, Gerritt Smith of New York, and 
 Judge R. P. Spaulding of Ohio, as three who seemed to me fair 
 representatives of the antislavery sentiment of the North, while 
 neither specially obnoxious to, nor disposed to deal harshly with, 
 the South; and I added that I hoped they would be met by men 
 like General Robert E. Lee, Alexander H. Stephens, &c., who 
 would be recognized and heeded by the South as men in whose 
 hands her honor and true interests would be safe. But I added 
 that I had no special desire that these or any particular men should 
 be selected, wishing only that those chosen from either section 
 should be such as to command their people's confidence and sup- 
 port. And I pledged myself to support, to the extent of my power, 
 any adjustment that should thus be matured and agreed upon. 
 
 "Some two months later, after the meeting of Congress, and 
 when the political sky had become darker, I went again to Wash- 
 ington, on the assurance of a mutual friend that the President de- 
 sired to see me. The joint committee on reconstruction had then 
 been appointed. At an interview promptly accorded, I urged the 
 President to invite this committee to the White House, and discuss 
 with them, from evening to evening, as friend with friends, all the 
 phases of the grave problem of reconstruction, with a fixed resolve 
 to find a basis of agreement if possible. I urged such considera- 
 tions as occurred to me in favor of the feasibility of such agreement, 
 if it were earnestly sought, as I felt sure it would be on the side of 
 
BATMXG JEFFF.nSOX DAVIS. 531 
 
 Congress. The vast patronage in the President's hands, the reluc- 
 tance of the majority in Congress to see their friends, supporters 
 and nominees, expelled by wholesale from office, and their places 
 supplied by bitter adversaries; the natural anxiety of every party 
 in power to maintain cordial relations with the head of the govern- 
 ment chosen by its votes, — these, and a thousand kindred consider- 
 ations, rendered morally certain an agreement between Congress 
 and the President, without a sacrifice of principle on either hand, if 
 the latter should sincerely seek it. 
 
 " I speak only of what I said and proposed, because I have no 
 permission and no right to speak further. That my suggestions 
 Avere not followed, nor anything akin to them, the public sadly 
 knows. And the conclusion to which I have been most reluctantly 
 forced is, that the President did not want harmony with Congress, 
 that he had already made up his mind to break with the party 
 which had elected him, and seek a further lease of power through 
 the favor and support of its implacable enemies." 
 
 An interesting event in the life of Horace Greeley, and in the 
 history of the country, occurred in May, 1867, when he went to 
 Richmond for the purpose of signing the bail-bond which restored 
 to liberty Jefferson Davis, after two years' confinement in Fortress 
 Monroe. "I went to Richmond," he says, "and signed the bond, 
 simply because the leading counsel for the prisoner deemed it im- 
 portant. If any other name would have answered as well, they 
 would not have proffered mine ; for they could easily have given 
 ten millions of dollars, all of it by men who were worth double the 
 amount for which they became responsible, and each of whom 
 would have esteemed signing the bond a privilege. But the coun- 
 sel believed it eminently desirable that they should present some 
 Northern names, of men who had been conspicuous opponents of 
 the Rebellion; perhaps because the application to admit to bail 
 would otherwise be strenuously resisted. I know nothing of their 
 reasons ; I only know that they would not have required me to 
 face this deluge of mud if they had not believed it necessary." 
 
 The bond was for the sum of one hundred thousand dollars, and 
 was signed by twenty persons, among whom were Horace Gree- 
 ley, John Minor Botts, Augustus Schell, Gerritt Smith, and Cor- 
 nelius Yanderbilt. "A happier looking man," wrote one of the 
 reporters, " never pledged himself for another's honor than Horace 
 
532 RECOXSTRUCTIOX. 
 
 Greeley appeared, as he took the pen and affixed himself as surety 
 upon the bond. He had scarcely laid down the pen and turned 
 from the clerk's table, when Mr. Davis hastily put himself in his 
 way, and, grasping his hand, uttered a few warm words of ac- 
 knowledgment. It was their Drst meeting, and he returned the 
 pressure and ventured to hope, in a few homely sentences, that he 
 had done his companion an essential service. 
 
 "The announcement of Judge Underwood: 'The United States 
 Marshal will now discharge the prisoner from custody,' was the 
 signal for giving vent to the delight that had been so imperfectly 
 schooled among the audience during the early progress of the pro- 
 ceedings. For a moment the din was terrific, and would not be 
 subdued by any amount of crying the peace by the Marshal. 
 
 " Mr. Davis was seized, congratulated, and sobbed over, and in 
 the same moment hurried from the court-room to the street, where 
 a thousand people were uncovered and cheering as he passed. 
 Alighted from his carriage at the hotel, the crowd demanded audi- 
 ence, and for two hours thereafter poured into his parlors, so tear- 
 ful and happy, that it was impossible not to catch the infection. 
 Later, Mr. Davis drove out with his friends, everywhere encoun- 
 tering clieers and congratulations from the people surrounding his 
 carriage-wheels to those upon the house-tops." 
 
 If we may judge from the Southern newspapers, this act of the 
 editor of the Tribune will do its part toward the reconcihation of 
 the country. The Richmond Whig said : — 
 
 " The generous course pursued toward Mr. Davis yesterday was one of the 
 most effective reconstruction steps yet taken. It was indeed a stride in that 
 direction. But the legal action taken was not all that we feel called upon to 
 notice. That action was accompanied and embellished by circumstances of 
 courtesy and cordial generosity from Northern and Republican gentlemen of 
 distinction and influence, which will go far to commend them to the gi-ateful 
 consideration of the South. They joined our own Virginians in both bail- 
 bonds and congratulations. In so doing, they illustrated their magnanimity, 
 and in one moment levelled barriers that might otherwise have remained for 
 years. The effect of yesterday's work will be felt and shown throughout the 
 South, or we much mistake Southern character. Let us all show that North- 
 ern generosity is the true avenue to Southern friendship. We repeat, a great 
 stride was yesterday taken in the lino of reconstruction." 
 I 
 
 The Lynchburg Virginian held the following language : — 
 
 " We hail the event as an auspicious one, fraught with good, and recognize 
 
SPEECH AT RICHMOND. 533 
 
 the present as a forhmate time for both sections of the Union to set out with 
 a new purpose, to bury their animosities, and meet together on a common 
 ground of justice, peace, and fraternity. No one, we are sure, would do more 
 to bring about such a result, or more rejoice at it, than he wlio was yesterday 
 restored to the free air of heaven from the confines of his long incarceration." 
 
 A Richmond letter published in the Baltimore Sun contained the 
 foUowinfj : — 
 
 " The effect of his release in all parts of the State has been not only cheer- 
 ing and exhilarating, but it has done more to promote good feeling, real cor- 
 diality, toward the North and toward the government, than any event which 
 has occurred since the close of the war. I have not seen till now any reason 
 to believe that the South would, for years, do more than accept the situation, 
 and content herself with a perfunctory performance of the obligations she has 
 assumed; but the release of Mr. Davis has touched the Southern hoart, and I 
 believe that it is at this moment beating strong to the old music of nationality 
 and brotherly love. The appearance in court of Mr. Horace Greeley and Mr. 
 Gerritt Smith, and their noble interposition in behalf of Mr. Davis, have had 
 peculiar influence in bringing about this happy result. Our people look upon 
 them as representative Northern men, and the hand thus stretched out to 
 them they have grasped warmly. This time it is no dramatic grasp, but pal- 
 pably honest, and prompted by full hearts." 
 
 During Mr. Greeley's stay at Richmond he was invited to ad- 
 dress a public meeting at the African Church, which is usually used 
 for political meetings, because of its great size. The main body of 
 the church was filled with the most respectable citizens of Rich- 
 mond, while the side aisles and galleries were crowded with colored 
 men. Upon being introduced to the audience by the Governor of 
 the State, he delivered the following excellent speech : — 
 
 " Friends a»d Fellow-Citizens: — I did not understand that my invita- 
 tion to speak here to-night, hasty and infoi-mal as it was, was the dictate es- 
 pecially of any party or section of this people. I understood that a few cit- 
 izens of different views — perhaps I should rather say, of differing antecedents 
 — wished to hear me on the present aspect of our public aflfiiirs, and I con- 
 sented to address them. Hence, I shall not regard myself as speaking here 
 to-night /bra party nor <o a party. [Applause.] I shall speak as a citizen 
 of New York to citizens of Virginia, on topics which concern our common in- 
 terest, our common country; and, while I shall speak with entire frankness, 
 I trust yoivwill realize that I speak in a spirit of kindness to all, and with ref- 
 erence to the feelings of all. [Applause.] 
 
 "'Shall the sword devour forever?' So asked of old a Hebrew 
 prophet, standing amid the ruins of his desolated country. So I, an American 
 citizen, standing amid some of the ruins of our great civil war, encircled by a 
 hundred thousand graves of men who fell on this side and on that, in obe- 
 
534 RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 dience to what they thought tlie dictates of duty and of patriotism, shall speak 
 in the spirit of that prophet, asking you whether the time has not fully come 
 ■when all the differences, all the heart-burnings, all the feuds and the hatreds 
 which necessarily grew up in the midst of our great struggle, should be aban- 
 doned forever? [Applause.] There have been rivers of blood shed; there 
 have been mountains of debt piled up; and on every side sacrifices, sufferings, 
 and losses attest the earnestness and tlie sincerity with which our people 
 fought out this great contest to its final conclusion. 
 
 " The wise king said, ' There is a time for war and a time for peace.' I 
 trust the time for war has wholly passed, — that the time for peace has fully 
 come. What obstacles have for the last two years impeded, what obstacles 
 still impede, the full realization of peace to this country? There may be 
 v?hat is called peace, which is only a mockery of peace, when people of dif- 
 ferent sections and of different parties in a great struggle still look distnist- 
 fully, hatefully, as it were, upon each other, and are imwilling to meet and to 
 exchange civilities. There may be an enforced quiet, an avoidance of posi- 
 tive hostilities, and yet no peace, no real peace. What is it, then, that has so 
 long in this country obstructed the advent of a real peace? 
 
 " The war for or against the Union virtually ended with the surrender of 
 General Lee's army more than two years ago. Both parties felt that that sur- 
 render was conclusive of the struggle; and, while much had been idly or 
 boastingly said of twenty yeai-s of guerilla war, after the armies should be 
 dispersed, yet, when the surrender was communicated to different sections of 
 the South, the people every wl^ere said, 'This is the end of the war; there is 
 no use in struggling any longer.' And, according to ordinary calculations, 
 one year from that hour should liave seen a perfect restoration of peace. 
 
 " Why have we not yet realized that expectation? 
 
 " In the first place, when the national party, if I may so call it, — the party 
 of the Union, — was in the first flush of a perfect, undivided triumph, an as- 
 sassin's blow stnick down the Chief Magistrate of the nation. I would be 
 the last to argue, or to insinuate, that that was the act of the defeated party 
 in the nation. [Applause.] Still, there were certain facts connected with it 
 which tended to give an exceedingly malign aspect to that general calamity. 
 The assassin and his fellow-conspirators were violent, vehement partisans of 
 the Southern cause. I believe one of them had fouglit for it; while they 
 had all been ardent champions of the principles upon wliich it was founded, 
 and of tlie system of human bondage with which it was identified. It was the 
 act of men who were heart and soul with the Confederacy, not merely in its 
 efforts, but in its fundamental aspirations. 
 
 " As the news was flashed across the country that its Chief had been stricken 
 down in the hour of general exultation, his first assistant in the government 
 even more foully stabbed and mangled on a bed of sickness and pain, and that 
 co-ordinate efforts had been made to destroy the Hves of other lieads of tlie 
 government, a crj' of wild and passionate grief and wrath arose from the wliole 
 people. Those who had been pleading for magnanimity and mercy to the 
 conquered, — who had been appealing to not unwilling ears in the few days 
 
SPEECH AT UrCUMOXD. 535 
 
 intervening between the close of the war and the occurrence of that terrible 
 calamity — were silenced in a moment by this appalling crime committed 
 upon tlio person of our great and good President. The nation could not fairly 
 consider, amid its blind rage and grief, that this assassination was the work 
 of a few, unauthorized by and unknown to the great mass of those against 
 whom their fury was dii-ected. It was an unspeakable calamity, — a calam- 
 ity to the Southern quite as much as to the Northeni part of the country. 
 
 "The military trials which followed that event — which, I might say, com- 
 pleted the tragedy — were gratifications of tlie popular wi-ath which rather 
 tended to stimulate than to appease it. They were the expressions of what 
 the popular heart felt and desired at the time. For my part, I was opposed to 
 them ; and I trust that all Americans have, by this time, learned to regret that 
 the regular and ordinary tribunals of the country had not been allowed to deal 
 with these criminals as they deal with others. [Applause.] 
 
 " Before the popular frenzy had had time to subside, there assembled, under 
 the military order of the President of the United States, conventions or legis- 
 latures in the several Southern States, representing only, or mainly, those who 
 had been defeated in our great struggle. I say the Southern conventions or 
 legislatures which then met represented mainly those persons; and the first 
 aspect presented to the people of tlie North by the action of these legislatures 
 was one of what I may mildly term unfriendliness toward the colored portion 
 of the people of the South. 
 
 " I am not here to discuss what absolutely was, but what was very appar- 
 ent at that time. The Southern legislatures.met, and began at once either to 
 enact or revive laws discriminating harshly and unjustly against the colored 
 people of the South, as if the object had been to punish them for their sym- 
 pathy with the Union in the sh-uggle that had just closed. 
 
 " I will here merely glance at the substance of these laws. You are familiar 
 with them; for some of them were passed in your own State. There, for in- 
 stance, are the laws in relation to mamages, to contracts for labor, to ai-ms- 
 bearing, and to giving testimony in courts, which, if they ever had been neces- 
 sary or wise, had utterly ceased to be applicable after the overthrow of slavery, 
 and the institutions based upon it. I will not detain you by any comments 
 upon these laws, but will content myself by bringing your attention to two of 
 them, which have been revived in most of these States. 
 
 " There are, first, the laws forbidding the black people of the South to bear 
 arms. Now, so long as slavery existed here and in the other States of the 
 South, it was perfectly reasonable and proper, so far as anything growing out 
 of slavery was proper, that blacks should be forbidden to have arms in their 
 hands. You may find fault with slavery, but you cannot find fault — slavery 
 being admitted as a fact — with slavehokling legislatures for forbidding the col- 
 ored people to hold and bear ai-ms. It was not deemed compatible with public 
 safety that blacks should be allowed to keep and use arms like white persons. 
 But, the moment slavery had passed awaj--, all possible pretexts for disarming 
 Southern blacks passed away with it. Our Federal Constitution gives the 
 right to the people everywhere to keep and bear anns ; and every law where- 
 
536 UECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 by any State legislature undertakes to contravene this, being in contlict with 
 the Constitution of the United States, had no longer any legal force. And, 
 when it was seen that Confederate soldiers in their uniforms of gray went 
 around to black men's houses, and took away arms which they had earned by 
 fighting for the Union, and which had been assigned to them for honorable 
 service, what could this look like but a revival of the Rebellion ? 
 
 "Then, as to this matter of testimony: I believe that sound, enlightened 
 jurists, the world over, are agreed that it is the true rule of judicial procedure 
 to admit all testimony, and allow the court and jury to decide as to its value. 
 This is the just rule with regard to atheists, to children of tender years, to 
 persons of evil repute, to persons presumed to be half-witted, &c. Let wit- 
 nesses of all sorts and characters come forward and testify, and an enlightened 
 judge, an intelligent jury, will have no difficulty in detemiining the value of 
 the evidence. We in New York have admitted the testimony even of a wife 
 for her hiisband, without detriment, so far as can be ascertained, to the cause 
 of justice. There should be no exclusion from a privilege so palpably just 
 and fair as this, especially when a discretion always remains with the court 
 and jury before whom the testimony is given to regard it favorably or other- 
 wise. When legislatures came together in this State and others, and pro- 
 ceeded to enact or revive laws to establish that a black person may give testi- 
 mony in controversies between two blacks, or possibly between a black and 
 white, yet not in a suit between two whites, the common sense of the country 
 was insiilted, and its feelings outraged, by this odious and plainly arbitrary re- 
 striction. For, when you say a Jjlack is fit to give testimony in a case be- 
 tween a black and a white man, you must realize that he is at least as well 
 qualified to give testimony in a controversy between two whites, where it is 
 probable he would have no such bias or partiality as he might have if one of 
 the parties were black. 
 
 "I say, all these laws, invidious, unnecessary, and degrading as they were, 
 looked to the people of the North like a revival of the Rebellion in a more in- 
 sidious and a good deal less manly aspect than it wore on the heights of Fred- 
 ericksburg and in the valley of the Chickamauga. It looked to us at the 
 North, as if men who had been beaten in fair, stand-up fight chose to revive 
 the contest in such a manner that they could annoy and irritate us without 
 exposing themselves to the perils of battle or the penalties of treason. I say 
 that this legislation, which prevailed more or less throughout the States of the 
 South, was one of the chief obstacles, and is one of the still remaining impedi- 
 ments, to an eirly and genuine reconstruction of the Union. 
 
 " I need not more than allude to the deplorable outrages at Memphis and 
 New Orlc.nns, which seemed to indicate the animus to this course of oppressive 
 class-legislation. You may not probably know to how gi'cat an extent the 
 public feeling and the elections of the North in the year 1866 were aflfected by 
 what we call the New Orleans massacre. I don't care to argue or assume 
 that those who were the victims of those outrages were entirely right, nor that 
 their adversaries or slaughterers were whollj' wrong. It was a fact that the 
 colored people of Louisiana wei'e trying to get the right of suffrage, and by 
 
SPEECH AT RICHMOND. 537 
 
 means which thoir friends tlionsht legitimiitc. The other pnrty, however, 
 thought otiierwisc; and instead of referring tlie matter to the general in com- 
 mand, or to some pejiceful tribunal, the reassembling of the old Constitutional 
 Convention was mafle the pretext for an attack, which resulted in the slaugh- 
 ter of some scores of American citizens, and in a very stern, sad revulsion of 
 public sentiment to the prejudice of those of you who had been in arms against 
 the Union. These outrages, this unwise and invidious legislation, fixed in the 
 minds, I will not say of a majority of the people of the North, but in the minds 
 of a very large proportion of the wise, intelligent, and conscientious people of 
 the North, a conviction which I think will not easily be shaken, that there 
 can be no real peace in the Union, that there can be no time reconstruction, 
 without the hearty admission on the part of the Southern States, and the 
 securing on the part of the nation, of the right of all men to be governed by- 
 equal laws, and to have an equal voice in making and administering those 
 laws. [Applause.] I will not say that we who so hold constitute a great ma- 
 jority of the Northern people; but I will say that we are very many more than 
 we were prior to the anti-negi-o enactments of Mr. Johnson's legislatures in 
 the Southern States, and before the outrages of 1866 at Memphis and at New 
 Orleans. I think that, before these collisions were reported to the North, the 
 conviction was fixed in a gi-eat many minds, as it now is in a great many 
 more, that no reconstraction would be real and enduring which did not in- 
 clude guaranties for the rights of the colored people of the South ; and when I 
 say rights, I mean their equal rights with any and all other persons. [Ap- 
 plause by the negroes.] It is a very common remark, and a very true one, 
 that the North is in honor bound to guarantee the liberties of the black people 
 of this country, because of thoir conduct during our gi-eat war. I have no 
 doubt that this is true; yet I deem it but half the trath. I hold the South 
 equally bound to secure the same result, because of the conduct of the blacks 
 toward the whites of the South in that same civil war. 
 
 "I fully admit the obligations of the North (or the nation) to the blacks. 
 Some may exaggerate their services, others unduly depreciate them; but 
 there was the general fact, that, whereas, in the beginning of the war, when 
 nothing was said about emancipation, the blacks of the South shouted with 
 their masters without knowing much about the cause of the war, yet, as the 
 struggle proceeded and became more deadly, and the North found itself obliged 
 to proclaim emancipation as a means of putting down the resistance at the 
 South, the sympathies of the colored people of the South, however silently ex- 
 pressed, became from that hour more and more decided and unanimous on 
 the side of the Union. They did not at first comprehend the contest; and yet 
 thousands, from mere instinct, from what they heard at Southern barbecues 
 and in their masters' houses, learned that the war on the part of the South was 
 a war for slaverj-; and they naturally argiied that the war on the part of the 
 North either was or must become a war for freedom. [Applause.] Now, 
 then, I say that, while the North is under obligations to those people for thon- 
 sands of acts of kindness toward our soldiers, who were sometimes scattered 
 as fugitives in a hostile territory, and for acts of positive aid on the battle-field 
 
538 RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 and in the camp, the South also owes a debt of gratitude to these people for 
 their general fidelity and good-will, as well as good sense, displnyed in resist- 
 ing every temptation to take advantage of their masters' extremity to achieve 
 at any cost tlieir own liberties. I believe Southern men will do the blacks of 
 the South the justice to say, that very often whole neighborhoods were almost 
 stripped of white men of any considerable force, and lay Avlwjlly at the mercy 
 of those white men's slaves. These knew what the contest meant; they knew 
 that they might, if they chose to do so, commit massacre, and, having deso- 
 lated their masters' households, they might fly to the Yankees, by whom they 
 reasonably hoped to be protected. But I do not know, out of the ten thousand 
 instances where these temptations were presented, that there were even five 
 cases in all where they were not resisted. You heard it said that Mr. Lincoln's 
 proclamation was intended to put the knife to the throats of all the Southern 
 whites, — that it was a gener-al proclamation of liberty to kill nnd burn and 
 ravage throughout the South. In that light, it was held up to general repro- 
 bation. I ask you all to bear witness, that this prediction was nowhere justi- 
 fied by the event. The colored people of the South who were still held as 
 slaves uniformly felt that their affection for tlieir masters and their families 
 was such, that they would be felons and outlaws, murderers and criminals of 
 the deepest dye, if they should take advantage of their masters' absence in 
 the war, to abuse their families. The Southern whites ought to feel, and I 
 trust that many of them do feel, gratitude toward the colored people for their 
 general deportment throughout the war. The blacks often ran away to the 
 Union armies and enlisted there; but they took no undue advantage of the 
 opportunities offered by their masters' distress or their masters' absence. 
 [Applause.] 
 
 " Fellow-citizens, there have been manj^ instances wherein men held in slav- 
 ery have been instantly or gradually, by one means or another, emancipated, 
 but I don't remember any instance where a fettered race was liberated from 
 slavery, and yet kept for generations in a servile, abject, degi*aded condition. 
 There is the great slaveholding Empire of Brazil, — always slaveholding since 
 it had any consequence at all, — wherein men who are slaves to-day may be 
 free to-morrow, and thenceforth eligible to any trust, any office, being voters 
 and citizens, precisely as though boi-n free and white. Such was the course 
 pursued by Great Britain in respect to the slaves emancipated in her colonies. 
 Slavery is one thing, freedom another. But there is an intcnnediate condition, 
 which is neither slavery nor liberty, that incites all the energy and aspiration 
 of freemen, and yet involves more than lialf the disabilities of the slave. Such 
 a condition as that, I believe, was never long maintained or endured in any 
 civilized coimtry. And yet that seems to be the condition which the domi- 
 nant race in the South destined the blacks to occupy by the legislation of 
 1865-66, — a condition which is neither slavery nor freedom, and one which 
 men partly educated, and who felt themselves to a certain extent emancipated, 
 would find utterly unbearable. 
 
 " Let me here meet an objection which is sometimes offered. Some mon 
 Bay, ' The black people of the South are, to a great extent, ignorant and de- 
 
SPEECH AT RICHMOND. 539 
 
 pi-adod: how then can you insist that they are qualified to enjoy all the priv- 
 ileges of citizens? ' I say if you make ippiorance a unifoiin ground of exclu- 
 sion from political power, I can comprehend the justice of your rule, your 
 objection. But so long as ignorance or degradation is no bar to citizenship 
 as to white men, I protest against making it a bar to suffrage on the part of 
 black men, who have excuses for ignorance which white men liave not. [Ap- 
 plause.] 
 
 " But then, there are peculiar reasons why this race among us should have 
 its liberties secvu'ed by the most stringent, firmest guaranties. They are, and 
 must remain, to some extent, a separate and peculiar people in the land. They 
 will be exposed at eveiy step to perils and antipathies which other men are 
 not, not only because of their color, but because of their weakness as well. 
 For they are not only a minority of our people, but their numerical impor- 
 tance is steadily declining. When our first Federal census was taken, in 1790, 
 they were nearly a fifth of our entire population; when our last census was 
 taken, in 1860, they were but an eighth: and the child is now born who will 
 see them no more than a twentieth. I do not believe that they will prove un- 
 able to hold their ground among us as freemen, nor that they will prove less 
 prolific in freedom than in bondage. But there is no African immigration to 
 this country, and never has been any voluntary immigration of negi'oes to any 
 region outside of the tropics. They may be di-agged into the temperate zone 
 in fetters, as they liave been ; but in freedom, their tendency is wholly the 
 other way. And, on the other hand, the waves of a great and steadily swell- 
 ing European immigi-ation ai'e constantly breaking on our shores, depositing 
 here some 250,000 persons per animm, mainly in the prime of youthful vigor. 
 By this gigantic influx the character of our population is being constantly 
 modified, so that the blacks, now a majority in two or three States, will soon 
 be a minority in each, and an inconsiderable, powerless fraction of our whole 
 people. The present, therefore, is the accepted time to secure their rights, 
 when there is a public interest felt in them, and when there ai"e obligations 
 of honor incumbent upon the whole country which it cannot well disregard 
 Their equal rights as citizens are to be secured now or not at all. I insist, 
 then, in the name of justice and humanity, in the name of our country, and 
 of every righteous interest and section of that country, that the rights of all 
 the American people — native or nnturalized, born such or made such — shall 
 be guaranteed in the State constitutions first, and in the Federal Constitution 
 so soon as possible, — that we make it a fundamental condition of American 
 law and policy, that every citizen shall have, in the eye of the law, every right 
 of every other citizen. ' [Applause.] I would make the equal rights of the col- 
 ored people of the country, under the laws and the constitutions thereof, the 
 comer-stone of a true, beneficent reconstruction. [Applause.] I wish to be 
 done with the topic at once and forever. I wish to have it disposed of and 
 out of the way, so that we can go on to other topics and other intei-ests that 
 demand our attention. I long to say that we have settled forever the question 
 of black men's rights by imbedding them in the constitutions of the States and 
 the nation, so that they cannot be disturbed cvei-more. If this had been 
 
540 RKCONSTRUCTION. 
 
 promptly and heartily done two years ago, when the Johnson legislatni-es of 
 the South first assembled, every State of tlie Soutli would have been in the 
 Union ere this, and every apprehension of penalties to be inflicted on the peo- 
 ple of the South would have been banished forever. 
 
 " But it is said that there are Republican States, or States under Republican 
 rulers, which have not gi-anted to the blacks their full rights. That is dis- 
 gracefully tnie. The gi-eat mass of the Republicans have always insisted 
 that black enfi-anchisement was a necessity, and have uniformly insisted that 
 it should be effected. We have been resisted, and to some extent overborne, 
 by a mere shred of our party combining with the Democrats to defeat us. 
 Still, public sentiment has steadily improved, \nitil nearly every Reijublican 
 in the North, with many who have acted with the Democrats, now heartily 
 favor a national guaranty of all rights to all. [Applause.] 
 
 " If there be any who think the Republican party ought to be dissolved. 
 — if there be one present who desires that it should get out of the way to give 
 room for new combinations, — I say to him, help us to finish this conlToversy 
 by imbedding in every constitution (State or national) a provision that every 
 citizen shall have all the legal rights of every other citizen, and no more. Let 
 us be done with this matter, and then we can move on to what may be the 
 next question in order. [Applause.] 
 
 "I come now to proscription as another obstacle, impediment, or whatever 
 you may choose to call it, to the reconciliation of the Southern people to the 
 Union. It ii5 asked, and very cogently, ' How can you expect us to be recon- 
 ciled to a government which denies us the right to vote or to hold office under 
 it?' Avery fair question. In my judginent, there is no reason why any 
 man who, to-day, is a thoroughly loyal and faithful citizen of the United 
 States, should be restrained from voting. This, however, is a matter which 
 rests entirely with Congress; and what I offer are my own private views. It 
 is just and wise to disfranchise men who are still disloyal, and who desire 
 that disloyal men shoiild obtain the mastery of this country. I deny that 
 those who are implacably hostile to the national authority, — who are wan- 
 dering off to Brazil, to Mexico, &c. — have any natural right to a voice in 
 the goveniment of the country. And that there is a class in the Soutli who 
 merely submit or acquiesce, — who are reconciled only so far that they don't 
 choose to put themselves in the way of punishment, — there can be very littJe 
 doubt. I hope the number of this class is comparatively small now, and that 
 it is daily diminishing. May I not hope that the doings in this city this week 
 have contributed somewhat to diminish its immbers ? The government should 
 see that these dissatisfied men have no control in the country. The people 
 should denj' to any man who would divide the country, or refuses to be recon- 
 ciled to it, a share in its government. I accept the jiroscription embodied in 
 the military reconstruction act of Congi-ess, only as a precaution against j»res- 
 ent disloyalty; and I believe the nation will insist on such proscription being 
 removed, so soon as reasonable and proper assurances are given that disloyalty 
 has ceased to be powerful and dangerous in the Southern States. 
 
 " Then as to the question of confiscation, what is to be said? What is the 
 
SPKKCII AT IlICHMOXD. 541 
 
 truth about confiscation? I have boon told, since I came licrc, that the col- 
 ored people of this city and the State were refusing to i)uy for themselves 
 homes, because they were imbued with the l)e!ief that Congress would very 
 soon confiscate and distribute the hinds of the Hebels of tiiis State, and give 
 each of them a share. If this be so, I beg you to believe that you are more 
 likely to earn a home than get one by any form of confiscation. I have no 
 right to speak for Congress, and cannot say what it will do; but I have a right 
 to say what Congress has done. Now we have had, since the war closed, two 
 years of violent political contest. Acts have been done and feelings evinced 
 in the South within those years which were strongly calculated to irritate the 
 overwhelming majority in Congress. Then there has been at the head — per- 
 haps I should say the head and foot — of the movement for confiscation the 
 very ablest as well as the oldest member of Congress, Tliaddeus Stevens of 
 Pennsylvania, one of the strongest men who has been seen in Congress at any 
 lime, and who has achieved great influence at the North by forty years of 
 uncompromising warfare against every species of human bondage. He has 
 been the recognized leader of the House for the last six or eight years. Mr. 
 Stevens has made speeches for confiscation, first, to his constituents; next, ia 
 Congress; and he has lately written a letter condemning those men who are 
 'peddling out amnesty,' and insisting upon confiscation. But if any other 
 member of Congress has gravely proposed any measure of confiscation at all, 
 I don't remember the fact; and if any committee of either house has reported 
 any scheme of confiscation since the close of the war, I am not aware of it. I 
 say no bill has been even reported which proposed to take away the property 
 of persons merely because they have been Rebels, and give it to others because 
 they were loyal. These are the facts in the past. You can judge of the future 
 as well as I can. I don't mean to say that Congress could not be provoked to 
 decree confiscation by menaces of violence and acts of outrage at the South. 
 I don't pretend to know what Congress may do under some conceivable cir- 
 cumstances; I state what it has done and has intimated its purpose to do, so 
 far as I can S[)eak from knowledge and recollection. 
 
 " Let me speak for myself only as to the general policy of confiscation. If 
 half the vacant, waste lands of the South could be instnrdly distributed among 
 the landless, I have no doubt that the eff'ect would be beneficent. I think 
 that such an allotment of a small farm to every poor man would do good to 
 the many and no real harm to the few. But, when you come to the practical 
 work of confiscation, it will be found a very tedious process that years would 
 be required to consummate. And, meantime, what is to become of those who 
 Hiust live by their daily labor? Who is to fence and cultivate the land ? What 
 is to become of the great mass of the poor who must, live by cultivating the 
 earth? When we reflect upon the general devastation of the South, l)y reason 
 of the turmoil and ravage of war, and consider how all industry would be 
 paralyzed by the prospect and the process of confiscation, we shall realize that 
 inevitable evils of confiscation are too great to justify an experiment of this 
 character. In my judgment, any general confiscation will produce general 
 bankruptcy and desolating famine. I judge that the evils of such confiscation 
 exceed all that have been experienced by the country in all its past convulsions. 
 
542 RECOXSTRUCTIOX. 
 
 "Again: llr. Stevens proposes to pay five hundred million dollars into the 
 treasury by a ' mild process of confiscation.' I do not know what could be 
 done in this way ; but I am very confident that all the confiscations that have 
 ever taken place since men first went to war have not altogether resulted in 
 putting five hundred million dollars into the public treasuries of nations. I do 
 not speak of those confiscations whereby some gi'cat conquerors seized and 
 appropriated the treasures and jewels of an Oriental king; I speak of the con- 
 fiscation of individual property in the shape of lands and houses. Individuals 
 have grown enormously rich by confiscation, have secured to themselves duke- 
 doms and principalities ; but they were the men who worked the machinery 
 [applause and laughter] ; the great mass derived no benefit, or very little, from 
 their plunder. How much better are our functionaries to-day ? 
 
 " Now, as to providing poor men with lands by any such process as this. I 
 admit the premise that the poor should have lands. I have for many years 
 advocated the policy of allowing every poor man to help himself to a portion 
 of the public lands upon the easiest terras. There are hundreds of millions of 
 acres still belonging to the Republic in the South as well as in the North and 
 West, — in Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, as well as in States 
 farther north. These lands ai-e public property, and one hundred and sixty 
 acres of them are offered to actual settlers on the payment of ten doEars, 
 which is chai'ged to cover the expense of surveys, deeds, &c. I have always 
 been in favor of encouraging settlement upon the public lands, and I am of the 
 opinion now that it will be easier and much wiser for the colored man to 
 acqiiire a home in this form than be vainly awaiting the possible chance of 
 acquiring one by confiscation. 
 
 "I may speak confidently of what has occmred in other lands; and I say 
 confidently that confiscation has rarely or never aided the poor to secure 
 homes any more than it has filled treasuries. It has bred deadly feuds and 
 perpetuated class hatreds. Many of the lands confiscated in Ireland two cen- 
 turies ago by Cromwell are yet the occasion of strife and bitterness: the heirs 
 of the original owners believing themselves to-day jiistly entitled to those lands, 
 and that any means of recovering them, rebellion inclusive, would be justifiable. 
 
 *•! believe no man who is the true friend of our colored people would advise 
 them to help themselves to the lands which had been wrested from their white 
 neighbors by confiscation. I will not further insist upon the fact that confis- 
 cation shrivels and paralyzes the industry of the whole community subjected 
 to its influence ; but, in my judgment, if all the property of the Southern States 
 were taken by confiscation to-morrow, and put up at auction, you could not 
 get five hundred millions of dollars out of it and into the treasurj'. How fraud* 
 and perjury would flourish, what mountains of falsehood would be conjured 
 up by the presence of general confiscation, I need not say. Instantly, every 
 one who apprehended danger to his property would make a sham sale or trans- 
 fer of it to some loyal cousin or nephew whom he thinks he can trust, to bo 
 kept until the proper time for its safe restoration; when he might find that his 
 trusted relative had concluded to keep it. So it has been, so it would be. All 
 manner of deceit, fraud, corruption, and miscellaneous iniquity flourishes in 
 tne presence of any attempt at general confiscation. 
 
SrEECII AT KICIIMOXD. 543 
 
 "I do not approve of appeals to any particular class, and I make no claim 
 to be a special friend of the colored people; but this I say, friends and coim- 
 trymen, since I have been here I have been more than ever before impressed 
 with the exceeding cheapness of Virginia lands. 1 believe there are lands selling 
 to-day near this city at ten dollars i)er acre, which will be worth in a few years 
 ten times that price ; and I say to all, if you can buy lands in Virginia and pay 
 for them, buy them ; for they arc certain to be dearer in the early future. I 
 am confident buying lands is the cheapest way of getting them. I am confi- 
 dent that buying these lands is the cheapest possible mode of securing a home- 
 stead. Carlyle says that the great mistake of Kob Koy was his failure to re- 
 alize that he could obtain his beef cheaper in the grass market of Glasgow than 
 by harrying the lowlands; and he will repeat that mistake who fails to secure 
 a farm by purchase to-day in Virginia, because he hopes to obtain one under 
 some future act of confiscation. 
 
 " I urge you, poor men of Virginia, whether white or black, to secure your- 
 selves homes of your own forthwith. If you can buy them here, do so, before 
 the coming influx of immigration shall have rendered lands too dear. If not, 
 strike oft' to the public lands. South, North, and West, and hew out for your- 
 ■ selves homes as my ancestors did in New Hampshire, and as millions have done 
 tliroughout the country. Become land-owners, all of you, so soon as you 
 may. O^vn something which you can call a home. It will give you a deeper 
 feeling of independence and of self-respect, and do not wait to obtain a home 
 by confiscation. [Applause.] 
 
 " ' Well,' says a Conservative, ' what you mean by all your talk is, that we 
 may get back to self-government and representation in Congress, if we all be- 
 come Republicans and vote the Radical ticket.' No, sir, I do not mean that. 
 I heartily wish you were all Republicans; for I believe the Republican party, 
 while it has made some mistakes, and includes perhaps its fair share of the 
 fools and rascals, docs yet embody the nobler instincts and more generous as- 
 pirations of the American people. But many of you are not Republicans ; and 
 I do not seek the votes of these for my ticket, except in so far as they shall be 
 heartily converted to my faith. I expect the rest to vote what they call the 
 Consei-vative ticket; and I ask of them only: 1. That they interpose no ob- 
 stacle to any man's voting the Republican ticket who wants to; and, 2. That 
 they select from their own ranks men who can take the oath prescribed by 
 Congi-ess, so that their choice shall nowise embaiTass nor impede an early and 
 complete reconstruction. Your way to restoration lies through the gate of 
 obedience, and I entreat you to take it promptly and heartily. 
 
 " lien of Virginia ! I entreat you to forget the j'cars of slavery, and seces- 
 sion, and civil war, now happily past, in the hopeful contemplation of the bet- 
 ter days of freedom and union and peace, now opening before you. Forget 
 that some of you have been masters, others slaves, — some for disunion, others 
 against it, — and remember only that you are Virginians, and all now and 
 henceforth freemen. Bear in mind that your State is the heart of a great 
 Republic, not the frontier of a weaker Confederacy, and that your unequalled 
 combination of soil, timber, mhierals, and water-power fairly entitle you to a 
 
544 KECONSTKUCTIOX. 
 
 population of five millions before the close of this century. Consider that the 
 natural highway of empii'e — the shoi'test and easiest route from the Atlantic 
 to the heart of the great valley — lies up the James River and down the Kan- 
 awha, and that tliis city, with its mill-power superior to any other in our coun- 
 try but that of St. Anthony's Falls on the Mississippi, ought to insure you a 
 speedy development of manufactures sui-passing any Lowell or Lawrence, with 
 a population of at least half a million, before the close of this century. I ex- 
 hort you, then. Republicans and Conservatives, whites and blacks, to bury 
 the dead past in mutual and hearty good-will, and in a general, united effort 
 to promote the prosperity and exalt the glorj' of oi;r long-distracted and bleed- 
 ing, but henceforth reunited, magnificent country ! " 
 
 If there were those among the Republicans of the Northern 
 States who disHked to see the editor of the Tribune assisting in the 
 release of Jefferson Davis, there were none who could be insensi- 
 ble to the good sense and humanity of the speech which he was 
 thus enabled to deliver in the capital of the late Confederacy. It 
 appears to have astonished the people of Richmond, who have 
 been hating an imaginary Horace Grreeley for twenty-five years, 
 to find that he was a human being. " We would not object," said 
 the Richmond Whig, " to have him upon the jury if we were to be 
 tried." 
 
 Upon his return to New York, Mr. Greeley discovered that a 
 large number of the Republican journals were criticising his con- 
 duct with severity, wliile others were damning him with faint 
 praise. The action of some members of the Union League Club 
 of the city of New York, of which he is a member, called out 
 the following letter : — 
 
 "BY THESE PRESENTS, GREFITING! 
 "To Messrs. George W. Blunt, John A. Kenneuv, John 0. Stone, 
 Stephen Hyatt, and thirty others, members of the Union 
 
 * League Club : — 
 
 " Gentlemen : — I was favored, on the IGth instant, by an official 
 note from our ever-courteous President, John Jay, notifying me 
 that a requisition had been presented to him for ' a special meeting 
 of the Club at an early day, for the purpose of taking into consid- 
 eration the conduct of Horace Greeley, a member of the club, who 
 has become a bondsman for Jefferson Davis, late chief officer of the 
 Rebel government.' Mr. Jay continues: — 
 
 " ' As I have reason to believe that the signers, or some of them, disapprove 
 of the conduct which they propose the Club shall consider, it is clearly due. 
 
LETTKR TO THE UNIOX LEAGUE CLUB. 545 
 
 both to the Chib and to yourself, that you should have the opportunity of being 
 heard on the subject; I beg, therefore, to ask on what evemng it will be con- 
 venient for you that I call the meeting,' &c., &c. 
 
 " In my prompt reply I requested the President to give you rea- 
 sonable time for reflection, but assured him that / wanted none ; 
 since I should not attend the meeting, nor ask any friend to do so, 
 and should make no defence, nor offer aught in the way of self- 
 vindication. I am sure my friends in the Club will not construe 
 this as implying disrespect; but it is not my habit to take part in 
 any discussions which may arise among other gentlemen as to my 
 fitness to enjoy their society. That is their afiair altogether, and 
 to them I leave it. 
 
 " The single point whereon I have any occasion or wish to ad- 
 dress you is your virtual implication that there is something novel, 
 unexpected, astounding, in my conduct in the matter suggested by 
 you as the basis of your action. I choose not to rest under this 
 assumption, but to prove that you, being persons of ordinary intelli- 
 gence, must know better. On this point I cite you to a scrutiny 
 of the record : — 
 
 " The surrender of General Lee was made known in this city 
 at 11 p. M. of Sunday, April 9, 1865, and fitly announced in the 
 Tribune of next morning, April 10th. On that very day I wrote, 
 and next morning printed in these columns, a leader entitled ' Mag- 
 nanimity in Triumph,' wherein I said : — 
 
 " ' We hear men say: " Yes, forgive the great mass of those who have been 
 misled into rebellion, but punish the leaders as they deserve." But who can 
 accurately draw the line between leaders and followers in the premises '? By 
 what test shall they be discriminated? .... Where is your touchstone of 
 leadership? We know of none. 
 
 " ' Nor can we agree with those who would punish the original plotters of 
 secession, yet spare their ultimate and scarcely willing converts. On the con- 
 trary, while we would revive or inflame resentment against none of them, we 
 feel far less antipathy to the original upholders of "the resolutions of '98," — 
 to the disciples of Calhoun and McDufBe, — to the nulliflers of 1832, and the 
 " State Rights" men of 1850, — than to the John Bells, Humphrey Marshalls, 
 and Alexander H. H. Stuarts, who were schooled in the national faith, and 
 who, in becoming disunionists and Rebels, trampled on the professions of a 
 lifetime, and spurned the logic wherewith they had so often unanswerably 
 
 demonstrated that secession was treason We consider Jefferson Davis 
 
 this day a less culpable traitor than John Bell. 
 
 " ' But we cannot believe it wise or well to take the life of any man who shall 
 
 II 
 
5*16 RECOXSTRUCTIOK. 
 
 have submitted to tne national authority. The execution of even one sach 
 ■would be felt as a personal stigma by every one who had ever aided the Rebel 
 cause. p]ach would say to himself, "I am as culpable as he; we differ only 
 in that I am deemed of comparatively little consequence." A single Confed- 
 erate led out to execution would be evermore enshrined in a million hearts as 
 a conspicuous hero and martyr. We cannot realize that it would be whole- 
 some or safe — we are sure it would not be magnanimous — to give the over- 
 powered disloyalty of the South such a shrine. Would the thi-one of the 
 house of Hanover stand more firmly had Charles Edward been caught and 
 executed after Culloden ? Is Austrian domination in Hungary more stable 
 to-day for the hanging of Nagy Sandor and his twelve compatriots after the 
 surrender of Vilagos ? 
 
 " ' We plead against passions certain to be at this moment fierce and intol- 
 erant; but on our side are the ages and the voice of history. We plead for a 
 restoration of the Union, against a policy which would afford a momentary 
 gi'atification at the cost of years of perilous hate and bitterness. .... 
 
 " ' Those who invoke military execution for the vanquished, or even for 
 their leaders, we suspect wiU not generally be found among the few who have 
 long been exposed to unjust odium as haters of the Sotith, because they ab- 
 horred slavery. And, as to the long-oppressed and degraded blacks, — so lately 
 the slaves, destined still to be the neighbors, and (we trust) at no distant day 
 the fellow-citizens of the Southern whites, — we are sure that their voice, 
 could it be authentically littered, would ring out decidedly, sonorously, on the 
 side of clemency, of humanity.' 
 
 "On the next day I had some more in this spirit, and on tlie 
 13th, an elaborate leader, entitled 'Peace, — Punishment,' in the 
 course of which I said : — 
 
 " ' The New York Times, doing injustice to its own sagacity in a character- 
 istic attempt to sail between wind and water, says : " Let us hang Jefferson 
 Davis and spare the rest." .... We do not concur in the advice. Davis did 
 not devise nor instigate the Rebellion; on the contrary, he was one of the latest 
 and most reluctant of-the notables of the Cotton States to renounce definitively 
 the Union. His prominence is purely official and representative: the only 
 reason for hanging him is that you therein condemn and stigmatize more per- 
 sons than in hanging any one else. There is not an ex-Rebel in the world — 
 no matter how penitent — who will not have unpleasant sensations about the 
 neck on the day when the Confederate President is to be hung. And to what 
 good end ? 
 
 " ' We insist that this matter must not be regarded in any nan-ow aspect. 
 We are most anxious to secure the assent of the South to emancipation; not 
 that assent which the condemned gives to being hung when he slialccs hands 
 with liis jailer and thanks him for past acts of kindness; but that hearty as- 
 sent which can only be won by magnanimity. Perhaps the Rebels, as a body, 
 would have given, even one year ago, as large and as heai'ty a vote for hanging 
 the writer of this article as any other man living; hence, it more especially 
 
LETTKR TO THE UNION LEAGUE CLUB. 547 
 
 seems to him important to prove that tlio civilization based on free labor is of 
 a higher and huinaner type than that based on slavery. We cannot realize 
 that the gratification to enure to our friends from the hanging of any one man, 
 or fifty men, should be allowed to outweigh this consideration.' 
 
 " On the following day I wrote again : — 
 
 " ' We entreat the President pi-omptly to do and dare in the cause of mag- 
 nanimity. The Southern mind is now open to kindness, and may be mag- 
 netically affected by generosity. Let assurance at once be given that there 
 is to be a general amnesty and no general confiscation. This is none the 
 less the dictate of wisdom, because it is also the dictate of mercy. What we 
 ask is, that the President say in effect, " Slavery having, through rebellion, 
 committed suicide, let the North and the South unite to bury the carcass, and 
 then clasp hands across the grave." ' 
 
 "The evening of that day witnessed that most apalling calamity, 
 the murder of President Lincoln, which seemed in an instant to 
 curdle all the milk of human kindness in twenty millions of Ameri- 
 can breasts. At once insidious efforts were set on foot to turn the 
 fury thus engendered against me, because of my pertinacious ad- 
 vocacy of mercy to the vanquished. Chancing to enter the Club- 
 House the next (Saturday) evening, I received a full broadside of 
 your scowls, ere we listened to a clerical harangue intended to 
 prove that Mr. Lincoln had been providentially removed because 
 of his notorious leanings toward clemency, in order to make way 
 for a successor who would give the Rebels a full measure of stern 
 justice. I was soon made to comprehend that I had no sympathiz- 
 ers — or none who dared seem such — in your crowded assem- 
 blage. And some maladroit admirer having, a few days afterward, 
 made the Club a present of my portrait, its bare reception was re- 
 sisted in a speech from the chair by your then President, — a speech 
 whose vigorous invective was justified solely by my pleadings for 
 lenity to the Rebels. 
 
 "At once a concerted howl of denunciation and rage was sent up 
 from every side against me by the little creatures whom God, for 
 some inscrutable purpose, permits to edit a majority of our minor 
 journals, echoed by a yell of ' Stop my paper 1 ' from thousands of 
 imperfectly instructed readers of the Tribune. One impudent 
 puppy wrote me to answer categorically whether I was or was not 
 in Aivor of hanging Jefferson Davis, adding that I must stop his 
 paper if I were not! Scores volunteered assurances that I was de- 
 fying public opinion; that most of my readers were against me; as 
 
548 RECONSTRUCTION. 
 
 if I could be induced to write what they wished said rather than 
 what they needed to be told. I never before realized so vividly 
 the baseness of the editorial vocation, according to the vulgar con- 
 ception of it. The din raised about my ears now is nothing to that 
 I then endured and despised. I am humiliated by the reflection 
 that it is (or was) in the power of such insects to annoy me, even 
 by pretending to discover with surprise something that I have for 
 years been publicly, emphatically proclaiming. 
 
 "I must hurry over much that deserves a paragraph, to call your 
 attention distinctly to occurrences in November last. Upon the 
 Republicans having, by desperate effort, handsomely carried our 
 State against a formidable-looking combination of recent and ven- 
 omous apostates with our natural adversaries, a cry arose from sev- 
 eral quarters that I ought to be chosen United States Senator. At 
 once, kind, discreet friends swarmed about me, Avhispering, 'Only 
 keep still about universal amnesty, and your election is certain. Just 
 be quiet a few weeks, and you can say what you please thereafter. 
 You have no occasion to speak now.' I slept on the well-meant 
 suggestion, and deliberately concluded that I could not, in justice 
 to myself, defer to it. I could not purchase office by even passive, 
 negative dissimulation. No man should be enabled to say to me, 
 in truth, ' If I had supposed you would persist in your rejected, 
 condemned amnesty hobby, I would not have given you my vote.' 
 So I wrote and published, on the 27th of that month, my manifesto 
 entitled ' The True Basis of Reconstruction,' wherein, repelling the 
 idea that I proposed a dicker with the ex-Rebels, I explicitly said : — 
 
 " ' I am for universal amnesty, so far as immunity from fear of punishment 
 or confiscation is concerned, even though impartial suffrage should, for the 
 present, be defeated. I did think it desirable that Jefferson Davis should be 
 arraigned and tried for treason; and it still seems to me that this might prop- 
 erly have been done many months ago. But it was not done then ; and now 
 I believe it would result in far more evil than good. It would rekindle pas- 
 sions that have nearly burned out or been hushed to sleep ; it would fearfully 
 convulse and agitate the South; it would arrest the progress of reconciliation 
 and kindly feeling there; it would cost a large sum directly, and a far larger in- 
 directly; and, unless the jury were scandalously packed, it would result in a 
 non-agreement or no verdict. I can imagine no good end to be subserved by 
 such a trial; and, holding Davis neither better nor worse than several others, 
 would have him treated as they are.' 
 
 "Is it conceivable that men who can read, and who Avere made 
 
LETTER TO THE UNION LEAGUE CLUB. 549 
 
 aware of this declaration, — for most of you were present and 
 shouted approval of Mr. Fessenden's condemnation of my views at 
 the Club, two or three evenings thereafter, — can now pretend that 
 my aiding to have Davis bailed is something novel and unexpected? 
 
 "Gentlemen^ I shall not attend your meeting this evening. I 
 have an engagement out of town, and shall keep it. I do not rec- 
 ognize you as capable of judging, or even fully apprehending me. 
 You evidently regard me as a weak sentimentalist, misled by a 
 maudlin philosophy. I arraign you as narrow-minded blockheads, 
 who would like to be useful to a great and good cause, but don't 
 know how. Your attempt to base a great, enduring party on the 
 hate and wrath necessarily engendered by a bloody civil war, is as 
 though you should plant a colony on an iceberg which had some- 
 how drifted into a tropical ocean. I tell you here, that, out of a life 
 earnestly devoted to the good of human kind, your children will 
 select my going to Richmond and signing that bail-bond as the 
 wisest act, and will feel that it did more for freedom and humanity 
 than all of 3^ou were competent to do, though you had lived to the 
 age of Methuselah. 
 
 "I ask nothing of you, then, but that you proceed to your end 
 by a direct, frank, manly way. Don't sidle off into a mild resolu- 
 tion of censure, but move the expulsion which you purposed, and 
 which I deserve, if I deserve any reproach whatever. All I care 
 for is, that you make this a square, stand-up fight, and record your 
 judgment by yeas and nays. I care not how few vote with me, 
 nor how many vote against me ; for I know that the latter will re- 
 pent it in dust and ashes before three years have passed. Under- 
 stand, once for all, that I dare you and defy you, and that I propose 
 to fight it out on the line that I have held from the day of Lee's 
 surrender. So long as any man was seeking to overthrow our 
 government, he was my enemy; from the hour in which he laid 
 down his arms, he was my formerly erring countryman. So long 
 as any is at heart opposed to the national unity, the Federal author- 
 ity, or to that assertion of the equal rights of all men which has 
 become practically identified with loyalty and nationality, I shall 
 do my best to deprive him of power ; but, whenever he ceases to 
 be thus, I demand his restoration to all the privileges of American 
 citizenship. I give you fair notice, that I shall urge the re-enfran- 
 chisement of those now proscribed for rebellion so soon as I shall 
 
550 RECOXSTRUCTION. 
 
 feel confident that this course is consistent with the freedom of the 
 blacks and the unity of the Eepublic, and that I shall demand a re- 
 call of all now ill exile only for participating in the Eebellion, when- 
 ever the country shall have been so thoroughly pacified that its 
 safety will not thereby be endangered. And so, gentlemen, hop- 
 ing that you will henceforth comprehend me somewhat better than 
 you have done, I remain, 
 
 "Yours, 
 
 "Horace Gtreeley. 
 "New York, May 23, 1867." 
 
 The meeting of the Club was held at the time appointed, and 
 continued in session for nearly four hours. Two hundred mem- 
 bers were present. The following resolutions were moved : — 
 
 " Whereas, It is declared in the articles of association of the Union League 
 Club, that 'the primary object of the association shall be to discountenance 
 and rebuke, by moral and social influences, all disloyalty to the Federal gov- 
 ernment,' and that ' to that end the members will use eveiy proper means in 
 public and private'; and 
 
 " Whereas, Jefferson Davis has been known by all loyal men as the ruling 
 spirit of that band of conspirators who urged the Southern States into rebel- 
 lion; as the chief enemy of the Eepublic, not more from the position which he 
 occupied in the Eebel Confederacy than from the vindictive character of his 
 official acts and utterances during four years of desolating civil war; and as one 
 who knew of, if he did not instigate, a treatment of prisoners of war unwar- 
 ranted by any possible circumstances, unparalleled in the annals of civilized 
 nations, and which, there is abundant evidence to prove, was deliberately de- 
 vised for the purpose of destroying them ; and 
 
 " Whereas, Horace Greeley, a member of this Club, has seen fit to become 
 a bondsman for this man, Avhose efforts were for many years directed to the 
 overthrow of our government; therefore 
 
 "Eesolved, That this Club would do injustice to its past record, and to the 
 high principle embodied in its ai-ticles of association, should it fail to express 
 regret that one of its members had consented to perform an act of this nature. 
 
 '^Resolved, That this Club, while ready and anxious to vindicate the law of 
 the land, cannot forget that there is also a sense of public decency to which it 
 must defer; and that no one of its members, however eminent his services may 
 have been in the cause of liberty and loyalty, can give aid and comfort to Jef- 
 ferson Davis without offering a cruel insult to the memory of the thousands of 
 our countrymen who perished, the victims of his ambition. 
 
 "Resolved, That the Union League Club disapprove of the act of Horace 
 Greeley, in becoming the bondsman of Jefferson Davis. 
 
 ^^ Resolved, That these resolutions be piiblished in the newspapers of this 
 city, and that a copy of them be sent to Mr. Greeley." 
 
RESOLUTIONS OF UNION LEAGUE CLUB. 551 
 
 Tliese resolutions were not adopted. The following was pro- 
 posed, and received a majority of the votes of those present : — 
 
 " Resolved, That there is nothing in the action of Horace Greeley, relative 
 to the bailing of Jefferson Davis, calling for proceedings in this Club." 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Horace Greeley upon poetry and the poets — He objects to being enrolled among the poets 
 — His advice to a country editor — His religious opinions — Upon marriage and divorce 
 — His idea of an American college — How he would bequeath an estate — How he be- 
 came a protectionist — Advice to ambitious young men — To the lovers of knowledge — 
 To young lawyers and doctors — To country merchants — How far he is a politician — A 
 toast — Reply to begging letters. 
 
 From a great heap of clippings, which have been accumulating 
 for many years, I select a few which throw light upon the charac- 
 ter of the man. 
 
 HIS PECULIAR OPINIONS RESPECTING POETRV. 
 
 One of Mr. Greeley's lectures is upon poetry and poets, and it 
 coatains some opinions so curious and original that I insert an 
 outhne of it : — 
 
 " All men, he said, are bom poets ; not that he meant to imply that every 
 cradle held an undeveloped Shakespeare, — far from it. But it was not the 
 less true that young children were poets. The child who thought the stars 
 were gimlet-holes to let the glory of heaven through, was a poet. The un- 
 corrupted child instinctively perceives the poetic element in nature. Every 
 close observer must have noticed how naturally the unschooled child comes 
 to talk poetically. Emerson says the man who first called another a puppy or 
 ■on ass was a poet, discerning in those animals the likeness of the individual, 
 symbolic of his moral nature. Imagination and the poetic element are ever 
 most fertile in the youth, whether of men or nations, and to this might be 
 ascribed that wild extravagance of our popular stories, — of the land being so 
 fertile that if you planted a crow-bar overnight, in the morning it would be 
 sprouting forth iron spikes and tenpenny nails, or of the pumpkin-vine that 
 grew so fast that it outran the steed of the astonished travellei*. The English- 
 man was so fenced in by forms and rales and conventionalities, that the poetic 
 element was choked out of him. Hence, the English poets were more appre- 
 ciated in America than in England, and there were more Americans who read 
 Scott and Byron, and, he believed, Shakespeare, than there were Englishmen. 
 
 " The most vulgar en-or of a vulgar mind, with respect to poetry, was the 
 confounding it with verse, or with even rhjTue. Fond mothers would take 
 from some secret drawer the cherished productions of her children, imagining 
 that because they were in rhyme they were therefore poetry, when indeed 
 
niS PECULIAR OPINIONS KKSPKCTING POETKY. 553 
 
 there was no more poetiy in them than in an invitation to pass the baked po- 
 tatoes. To the fresh, unhackneyed soul, rhyme was as repulsive as a fools- 
 cap and bells. Many of the best poems were not written metrically. Ban- 
 yan's Pilgrim's Progress was the epic of Methodism, but he wrote hideous 
 doggerel when he attempted verse, as the introduction to that work proved. 
 There can scarcely be a surer proof that a youth has ceased to be a poet than 
 when he begins to rhyme. Yet the poet of our day must be a vassal to the 
 onerous rule. A wild colt of a young bardling will now and then spurn the 
 yoke, as Donald Clark did, and Walt Whitman is doing; but the latter, though 
 he had received the commendation of one of our greatest poets, would never 
 receive sufficient notice from the critics to be knocked in the head by a vol- 
 ume of the Edinburgh Review. 
 
 " The Book of Job the lecturer considered the simplest, grandest, as wtU as 
 oldest of pastoral poems. David, the warrior-king, had bequeathed to us 
 psalms in which were to be found a more fitting interpretation of our aspira- 
 tions and spiritual needs than in all the religious poets of the intervening ages. 
 He reigns King of Psalmody till time shall be no more. 
 
 " Of Greek poetry Mr. Greeley said he had no right to say much. The 
 Greek epic held substantially the place of the modern novel. Greek hfe, 
 as depicted b}' Homer, was nide and stern, and not distinguished for its vir- 
 tues. About the merit of Homer's poems, it might be impinident to contradict 
 the verdict of scholars who ranked them so high, but he would secretly cher- 
 ish his own opinion. Where was the youth, in England or this country, who 
 sought a translation of the Iliad for amusing reading? There were ten copies 
 of the Arabian Nights read for one of Homer. Still, we must be grateful to 
 the epic for originating tragedy. JEschylus was the lineal child of Homer. 
 
 " Of the Romans the lecturer said that they were never a poetic people. 
 They had Horace, an Epicurean, philosophizing inverse; Juvenal, a biting 
 satirist; Virgil, a weaver of legendary lore, — but the compositions of these 
 writers smell of the land, while from the Augustan age to Dante there was 
 nothing worth reading. One must be as devout a CatViolic as Dante to enjoy 
 his Inferno. 
 
 '' Proceeding to the consideration of English poetry, Mr. Greeley had noth- 
 ing to say in favor of Chaucer or Spenser. Whoever, ho asked, sat down to 
 read them otherwise than as a task? For his part, he voted the Faerie Queene 
 a bore. Let the gathering dust bury it out of sight. 
 
 " Shakespeare he did not love, because of his Toryism, but was not insensi- 
 ble to his wonderful genius. His puns were, in the lecturer's opinion, mostly 
 detestable, andliis jokes sorry. He was an intense Tory. No autocrat born 
 in the purple had a more thorough contempt for the rabble. With Shake- 
 speare only the court cards counted. His world was bounded by the fogs of 
 London and the palace of Whitehall. He must have heard Raleigh and Drake, 
 and other adventurous spirits, who had visited America, talk of the New 
 World, and yet he never referred to any portion of it, except in that inaccu- 
 rate allusion ' the still-vexed Bermoothes.' He was no friend of the people. 
 He saw in the million only the counters wherewith kings and nobles played 
 24 
 
554 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 their games, and he did not recognize the possibiUty of their becoming any- 
 thing else. Mr. Greeley would not say which was the gi-eater poet, but he 
 would say that Milton was the better man. There was not a single passage in 
 Shakespeare which did his manhood such honor as Milton's two sQnnets on 
 his blindness. 
 
 " Of the English poets, after Milton and prior to the present century, Pope 
 alone was deserving of mention. Not that he was a poet at all, but a very 
 respectable philosopher. Of Goldsmith, Thomson, Gray, Young, Cowper, it 
 might be said that they were not poets, but essayists and sermonizers. They 
 have produced nothing which mankind could not well spare. Let them qui- 
 etly sink into oblivion. 
 
 " Mr. Greeley gave Burns the praise of having written true poetry, after the 
 age had been satiated with a heap of mediocre or worthless verse. In his 
 poems might be found the fitting answer of the dumb millions to the taunts 
 and slurs of Shakespeare. 
 
 " Of the present poetical era Keats was the morning star. Byron held the 
 highest place among modern poets, though the influence of much that he had 
 written was bad. As Goethe could not have modelled his Mephistopheles 
 on Byron's life, it had been said that Byron must have modelled his life on 
 Goethe's Mephistopheles. Byron's life has never yet been properly written, 
 and it would indeed be a difficult task to wi-ite a life of him that would suit 
 the Sunday schools. 
 
 " Coleridge, Eogers, Soutliey, Campbell, — with the exception of one or twc 
 little poems of each, — literature, the lecturer thought, could spare them all. 
 Wordsworth was a remarkable instance of tenacity. He began his poetical 
 life with a theory, and, though possessed of no remarkable powers, he per- 
 sisted in his theory, and finally conquered his critics. The credit of that 
 theory, however, was not so much due to Wordsworth as to Mrs. Hemans, 
 whose poetry Mr. Greeley greatly praised. 
 
 " Of Hood he spoke in high terms. Tennyson he lauded warmly, instan- 
 cing the In Memoriam, The Princess, and Maud as foremost among the gems 
 of English literature. 
 
 " Of Robert Browning he said the reading public knows too little. Even in 
 England he startled some of his judicious friends by saying that he was not 
 inferior to Tennyson. He especially indicated the Blot fli the Scutcheon, 
 Pippa Passes, and Paracelsus as among the best poems of the century. Eliz- 
 abeth Barrett Browning, the wife of Robert, received due praise from Mr. 
 Greeley, especially for her poem of Aurora Leigh." 
 
 HE OBJECTS TO BEING ENROLLED AMONG THE POETS. HORACE GREE- 
 LEY TO ROBERT BONNER. 
 
 "New York, February, 1859. 
 "Mr. Bonner: — I perceive by your Ledger that you purpose to 
 publish a volume (or perhaps several volumes) made up of poems 
 
HE OBJFXTS TO BEING ENROLLED AMONG THE POETS. OOO 
 
 not contained in Mr. Dana's Household Book of Poetry, and I 
 heartily wish success to your enterprise. There m-e genuine poems 
 of moderate length which cannot be found iu that collection, ex- 
 cellent as it palpably is, and superior in value, as I deem it, to any 
 predecessor or yet extant rival. There are, moreover, some gen- 
 uine poets whose names do not figure in Mr. Dana's double index; 
 and I thank you for undertaking to render them justice ; only take 
 care not to neutralize or nullify your chivalrous championship by 
 burying them under a cartload of rhymed rubbish, such as my 
 great namesake plausibly averred that neither gods nor men can 
 abide, and you will have rendered literature a service and done 
 justice to slighted merit. 
 
 "But, Mr. Bonner, be good enough — you must — to exclude me 
 from your new poetic Pantheon. I have no business therein, — no 
 right and no desire to be installed there. I am no poet, never was 
 fin expression), and never shall be. True, I wrote some verses in 
 my callow days, as I presume most persons who can make intelli- 
 gible pen-marks have done ; but I was never a poet, even in the 
 mists of deluding fancy. All my verses, I trust, would not fill one 
 of your pages; they were mainly written under the spur of some 
 local or personal incitement, which long ago })assed away. Though 
 in structure metrical, they were in essence prosaic : they were 
 read by few, and those few have kindly forgotten them. Within 
 the last ten years I have been accused of all possible and some im- 
 possible offences against good taste, good morals, and the common 
 weal, — I have been branded aristocrat, communist, infidel, hypo- 
 crite, demagogue, disunionist, traitor, corruptionist, &c., &c., — but 
 I cannot remember that any one has flung in my face my youthful 
 transgressions in the way of rhyme. Do not, then, accord to the 
 malice of my many enemies this forgotten means of annoyance. 
 Let the dead rest I and let me enjoy the reputation which I covet 
 and deserve, of knowing poetry from prose, which the ruthless res- 
 urrection of my verses would subvert, since the undiscerning ma- 
 jority would blindly infer that / considered them poetry. Let me 
 up 1 " Thine, 
 
 "Horace Greeley." 
 
556 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 HORACE Greeley's advice to a country editor. 
 
 " New York, April 3, 1860. 
 
 " Friend Fletcher : — I have a line from you, informing me that 
 you are about to start a paper at Sparta, and hinting that a hne 
 from me for its first issue would be acceptable. Allow me, then, 
 as one who spent his most hopeful and observant years in a coun- 
 try printing-office, and who sincerely beheves that the art of con- 
 ducting country (or city) newspapers has not yet obtained its ulti- 
 mate perfection, to set before you a few hints on making up an 
 interesting and popular gazette for a rural district like yours. 
 
 "I. Begin with a clear conception that the subject of deepest 
 interest to an average human being is himself; next to that, he is 
 most concerned about his neighbors. Asia and the Tongo Islands 
 stand a long way after these in his regard. It does seem to me 
 that most country journals are oblivious as to these vital truths. 
 If you will, so soon as may be, secure a wide-awake, judicious cor- 
 respondent in each village and township of your county, — some 
 young lawyer, doctor, clerk in a store, or assistant in a post-office, 
 — who will promptly send you whatever of moment occurs in his 
 vicinity, and will make up at least half your journal of local matter 
 thus collected, nobody in the county can long do without it. Do 
 not let a new church be organized, or new members be added to 
 one already existing, a farm be sold, a new house be raised, a mill 
 be set in motion, a store be opened, nor anything of interest to a 
 dozen families occur, without having the fact duly though briefly 
 chronicled in your columns. If a farmer cuts a big tree, or grows 
 a mammoth beet, or harvests a bounteous yield of wheat or corn, 
 set forth the fact as concisely and unexceptionably as possible. In 
 due time, obtain and print a brief historical and statistical account 
 of each township, — who first settled in it, who have been its prom- 
 inent citizens, who attained advanced years therein, &c. Eecord 
 every birth as well as every marriage and death. In short, make 
 your paper a perfect mirror of everything done in your county 
 that its citizens ought to know ; and, whenever a farm is sold, try 
 to ascertain what it brought at previous sales, and how it has been 
 managed meantime. One year of this, faithfully followed up, will 
 fix the value of each farm in the county, and render it as easily de- 
 termined as that of a bushel of corn. 
 
 " II. Take an earnest and active, if not a leading, part in the 
 
HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. 557 
 
 advancement of home industry. Do your \itraost to promote not 
 only an annual county Fair, but town Fairs as well. Persuade 
 each farmer and mechanic to send somethin;:^ to such Fairs, though 
 it be a pair of well-made shoes from the one or a good ear of corn 
 from the other. If any one undertakes a new branch of industry 
 in the county, especially if it be a manufVicture, do not wait to be 
 solicited, but hasten to give him a helping hand. Ask the people 
 to buy his flour, or starch, or woollens, or boots, or whatever may 
 be his product, if it be good, in preference to any that may be 
 brought into the county to compete with him. Encourage and aid 
 him to the best of your ability. By persevering in this course a 
 few years, you will largely increase the population of your county 
 and the value of every acre of its soil. 
 
 " III. Don't let the politicians and aspirants of the county own 
 you. They may be clever fellows, as they often are; but, if you 
 keep your eyes open, you will see something that they seem blind 
 to, and must speak out accordingly. Do your best to keep the 
 number of public trusts, the amount of official emoluments, and the 
 consequent rate of taxation other than for common schools, as low 
 as may be. Remember that — in addition to the radical righteous- 
 ness of the thing — the tax-payers take many more papers than the 
 tax-consumers. 
 
 " I would like to say more, but am busied excessively. That you 
 may deserve and achieve success is the earnest prayer of 
 " Yours, truly, 
 
 " Horace Greelet. 
 
 " Tribune Office, New York." 
 
 niS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. 
 
 " New York, Sunday, Febraary 10, 1855. 
 "To THE Editor of the Christian Ambassador: — 
 
 " My Dear Sir : — I find in your issue of this date an extract 
 from the Rome Excelsior, asserting that I am not a Universalist, to 
 which you have appended an explicit denial. I could have wished 
 that no necessity for such denial had arisen, and I am very sure 
 that the Excelsior intended to state the truth. Yet its assertion, 
 on whatever incidental expression or conversation it may have 
 been based, is certainly erroneous. I have for thirty years ear- 
 nestly hoped and believed that our Father in heaven will, in his 
 
558 MISCKLLAXEOUS. 
 
 own good time, bring the whole human race into a state of willing 
 and perfect reconciliation to himself and obedience to his laws, — 
 consequently one of complete and unending happiness. But as to 
 the time when and the means whereby this consummation is to be 
 attained, I have no immovable conviction ; though m}^ views have 
 generally accorded nearly Avith those held by the Unitarian Resto- 
 rationists. In other words, I believe that the moral character 
 formed in this life will be that in which Ave shall aAvake in the life 
 to come, and that many die so deeply stained and tainted by lives 
 of transgression and depravity, that a tedious and painful discipline 
 must precede and prepare for their admission to the realms of eter- 
 nal purity and bliss. I can only guess that the Excelsior's article 
 was based upon some conversation in which this expose of my be- 
 lief was prominently set forth. And yet I cannot recollect that I 
 ever changed a word with its editor on the subject of theology. 
 
 " Your statement that I am a member of Mr. Chapin's church 
 organization, and a communicant therein, impels me to say that, 
 though a member of his society from the day of his settlement 
 among us, I am not technically a member of his church, but of that 
 in Orchard Street, in which I was a pew-holder, until Dr. Sawyer's 
 removal from our city to Clinton, when I attached myself to the 
 society which is now Mr. Chapin's. And, believing the ordinance 
 of the Lord's Supper, as now celebrated among us, a fearful imped- 
 iment to the progress and triumph of the principle of total absti- 
 nence from all that can intoxicate. I have for some time past felt it 
 my duty to abstain from it, aAvaitmg and hoping for the day when 
 Christians of every name shall realize that the blood of our Saviour 
 is not truly represented by the compounds of vile and poisonous 
 drugs commonly sold here as wme, nor yet by any liquid essen- 
 tially alcoholic, therefore intoxicating. If a few more would unite 
 in this protest, Ave should soon have no other wine used in the Eu- 
 charist than that freshly and wholly expressed from grapes, — a 
 liquid no more intoxicating or poisonous than new milk or toast- 
 Avater. And then Ave shall cease to hear of reformed drunkards 
 corrupted and hurled back into the way of ruin by a vicious thirst 
 reawakened at the communion-table. 
 
 " Regretting both the necessity for and the length of this ex- 
 planation, I remain. Yours, 
 
 " IIoRACE Greeley. 
 
 ■Rev. J. M. Austin." 
 
HIS OPINION RESPECTING MARRIAGE AND DIVORCE. 559 
 
 HIS OrmiON RESPEOTIMG MARRIAGE AND DIVORCE. 
 
 " I am perfectly willing to see all social experiments tried that 
 any earnest, rational being deems calculated to promote the well- 
 being of the human family ; but I insist that this matter of marriage 
 and divorce has passed beyond the reasonable scope of experiment. 
 The ground has all been travelled over and over, — from indissolu- 
 ble .monogamic marriage down through polygamy, concubinage, 
 easy divorce, to absolute free love, mankind have tried every possi- 
 ble modification and shade of relation between man and woman. 
 If these multiform, protracted, diversified, infinitely repeated ex- 
 periments have not established the superiority of the union of one 
 man to one woman for life, — in short, marriage, — to all other 
 forms of sexual relation, then history is a deluding mist, and man 
 has hitherto lived in vain. 
 
 " But you assert that the people of Indiana are emphatically moral 
 and chaste in their domestic relations. That may be : at all events, 
 / have not yet called it in question. Indiana is yet a young State, 
 — not so old as either you or I, — and most of her adult popula- 
 tion were born, and I think most of them were reared and married, 
 in States which teach and maintain the indissolubility of marriage. 
 That population is yet sparse, the greater part of it in moderate 
 circumstances, engaged in rural industry, and but slightly exposed 
 to the temptations born of crowds, luxury, and idleness. In such 
 circumstances, continence would probably be general, even were 
 marriage unknown. But let time and change do their work, and 
 then see ! Given the population of Italy in the days of the Caesars, 
 with easy divorce, and I believe the result would be like that ex- 
 perienced by the Roman Republic, which, under the sway of easy 
 divorce, rotted away and perished, blasted by the mildew of un- 
 chaste mothers and dissolute homes. 
 
 " If experiments are to be tried in the direction you favor, I in- 
 sist that they shall be tried fairly, — not under cover of false prom- 
 ises and baseless pretences. Let those who will take each other 
 on trial ; but let such unions have a distinct name, as in Paris or 
 Hayti, and let us know just who are married (old style), and who 
 have formed unions to be maintained or terminated as circum- 
 stances shall dictate. Those who choose the latter will of course 
 consummate it without benefit of clergy ; but I do not see how 
 they need even so much ceremony as that of jumping the broom- 
 
560 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 stick. ' I '11 love you so long as I 'm able, and swear for no longer 
 than this,' — what need is there of any solemnity to hallow such a 
 union ? What Hbertine would hesitate to promise that much, even 
 if fully resolved to decamp next morning ? If man and woman are 
 to be true to each other only so long as they shall each find con- 
 stancy the dictate of their several inclinations, there can be no such 
 crime as adultery, and mankind have too long been defrauded of 
 innocent enjoyment by priestly anathemas and ghostly maledic- 
 tions. Let us each do what for the moment shall give us pleasur- 
 able sensations, and let all such fantasies as God, duty, conscience, 
 retribution, eternity, be banished to the moles and the bats, with 
 other forgotten rubbish of bygone ages of darkness and unreal 
 terrors. 
 
 "But if — as I firmly believe — marriage is a matter which con- 
 cerns, not only the men and women who contract it, but the state, 
 the community, mankind, — if its object be not merely the mutual 
 gratification and advantage of the husband and wife, but the due 
 sustenance, nurture, and education of their children, — if, in other 
 words, those who voluntarily incur the obligations of parentage can 
 only discharge those obligations personally and conjointly, and to 
 that end are bound to live together in love at least until their 
 youngest child shall have attained perfect physical and intellectual 
 maturity, — then I deny that a marriage can be dissolved save by 
 death or that crime which alone renders its continuance impossi- 
 ble. I look beyond the special case to the general law, and to the 
 reason which underlies that law ; and I say, no couple can inno- 
 cently take upon themselves the obligations of marriage until they 
 KNOW that they are one in spirit, and so must remain forever. If 
 they rashly lay profane hands on the ark, theirs alone is the blame ; 
 be theirs alone the penalty ! They have no right to cast it on that 
 public which admonished and entreated them to forbear, but ad- 
 monished and entreated in vain." 
 
 HIS IDEA OF AN AMERICAN COLLEGE. 
 
 An address at the laying of the corner-stone of the People's Col- 
 lege, at Havana, in the State of New York, September 1, 1858. 
 
 "Fellow-Citizens and Friends: — William Hazlitt, an eminent 
 scholar and critic, writing some thirty or forty years since of the 
 ignorance of the learned, says : — 
 
HIS IDEA OF AX AMERICAN COLLEGE. 561 
 
 " ' Learning is the knowledge of that which none but tlie learned know. lie 
 is the most learned man who knows the most of what is furthest removed from 
 common life and actual observation, that is of the least practical utility, and 
 least liable to be brought to the test of expei-iencc, and that, having been handed 
 down through the greatest number of intermediate stages, is the most full of 
 uncertainties, difficulties, contradictions. It is seeing with the eyes of others, 
 hearing with their ears, and pinning our faith on their understandings. The 
 learned man prides himself on the knowledge of names and dates, not of men 
 and things. He does not know whether liis oldest acquaintance is a knave or 
 a fool, but he can pronounce a pompous lecture on .all the principal characters 
 in history. He knows as much of what he talks about as a blind man does 
 of colors.' 
 
 " Such is the learning which the People's College is intended to 
 supplant ; such the ignorance which it is designed to dispel ; such 
 the reproach which it is intended to remove. 
 
 " As one of the early and earnest, if not very efficient advocates 
 of this College, allow me to state briefly the ideas and purposes 
 which animated the pioneers in the enterprise of which we to-day 
 celebrate the preliminary triumph. 
 
 "I. The germinal idea of the People's College aCQrms the neces- 
 sity of a thorough and appropriate education for the practical man 
 in whatever department of business or industry. The farmer, me- 
 chanic, manufacturer, engineer, miner, &c., &c., needs to understand 
 thoroughly the materials he employs or moulds, and the laws which 
 govern their various states and transmutations. In other words, a 
 thorough mastery of geolagy, chemistry, and the related sciences, 
 with their api)lications, is to-day the essential basis of fitness to lead 
 or direct in any department of industry. This knowledge we need 
 seminaries to impart, — seminaries which shall be devoted mainly, 
 or at least emphatically, to Natural Science, and which shall not re- 
 quire of their pupils the devotion of tlieir time and mental energies 
 to the study of the dead languages. I am not here to denounce or 
 disparage a classical course of study. 1 trust and have no doubt 
 that facilities for pursuing such a course will be afforded and im- 
 proved in this institution. I only protest against the requirement 
 of, application to, and proficiency in, the dead languages of all col- 
 lege students, regardless of the length of time they may be able to 
 devote to study, and of the course of life they meditate. A clas- 
 sical education may be very appropriate, even indispensable, for the 
 embryo lawyer or clergyman, yet not at all suited to the wants of 
 24* J J 
 
502 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 the prospective farmer, artisan, or engineer. We want a seminary 
 which recognizes the varying intellectual needs of all our aspiring 
 youth, and suitably provides for them. We want a seminary 
 which provides as fitly and thoroughly for the education of the 
 'captains of industry,' as Yale or Harvard does for those who are 
 dedicated to either of the professions. 
 
 " II. We seek and meditate a perfect combination of study with 
 labor. Of course, this is an enterprise of great difficulty, destined 
 to encounter the most formidable obstacles from false pride, natural 
 indolence, fashion, tradition, and exposure to ridicule. It is deplor- 
 ably true that a large portion, if not even a majority, of our youth 
 seeking a liberal education addict themselves to study in order that 
 they may escape a life of manual labor, and would prefer not to 
 study if they knew how else to make a living without downright 
 muscular exertion, but they do not; so they submit to be ground 
 through academy and college, not that they love study or its intel- 
 lectual fruits, but that they may obtain a livelihood with the least 
 possible sweat and toil. Of course, these will not be attracted by 
 our programme, and it is probably well for us that they are not. 
 But I think there is a class — small, perhaps, but increasing — who 
 would fain study, not in order to escape their share of manual labor, 
 but to qualify them to perform their part in it more efficiently and 
 usefully ; not in order to shun work, but to qualify them to work 
 to better purpose. They have no mind to be made drudges, but 
 they have faith in the ultimate elevation of mankind above the ne- 
 cessity of life-long, unintermitted drudgery, and they aspire to do 
 something toward securing or hastening that consummation. They 
 know that manual labor can only be dignified or elevated by ren- 
 dering it more intelligent and efficient, and that this cannot be so 
 long as the educated and the intellectual shun such labor as fit ^mly 
 for boors. 
 
 " Our idea regards physical exertion as essential to human devel- 
 opment, and productive industry as the natural, proper, Grod-given 
 sphere of such exertion. Exercise, recreation, play, are well enough 
 in their time and place ; but work is the divine provision for devel- 
 oping and strengthening the physical frame. Dyspepsia, debility, 
 and a hundred forms of wasting disease are the results of ignorance 
 or defiance of this truth. The stagnant marsh and the free, pure 
 running stream aptly exemplify the disparity in health and vigor 
 
niS IDEA OF AN AMERICAX COLLEGE. 563 
 
 between tlie worker and the idler. Intellectual labor, rightly di- 
 rected, is noble, — far be it from me to disparage it, — but it does 
 not renovate and keep healthful the physical man. To this end, we 
 insist, persistent muscular exertion is necessary, and, as it is always 
 well that exercise should have a purpose other than exercise, every 
 human being not paralytic or bed-ridden should bear a part in 
 manual labor, and the young and immature most of all. The brain- 
 sweat of the student, the tax levied by study on the circulation 
 and the vision, are best counteracted by a daily devotion of a few 
 hours to manual labor. 
 
 " Moreover, there are thousands of intellectual, aspiring youth 
 who are engaged in a stern wrestle with poverty, — who have no 
 relatives who can essentially aid them, and only a few dollars and 
 their own muscles between them and the almshouse. These would 
 gladly qualify themselves for the highest usefulness ; but how shall 
 they ? If they must give six months of each year to teaching, or 
 some other vocation, in order to provide means for pursuing their 
 studies through the residue of the year, their progress must be slow 
 indeed. But bring the study and the work together, — let three 
 or four hours of labor break up the monotony of the day's lessons. 
 — and they may pursue their studies from New Year's to Christmas, 
 and from their sixteenth year to their twenty-first respectively, 
 should they see fit, without serious or damaging interruption. I 
 know that great difficulties are to be encountered, great obstacles 
 surmounted, in the outset ; but I feel confident that each student 
 of sixteen years or over, who gives twenty hours per week to man- 
 ual labor at this College, may earn at least one dollar per week from 
 the outset, and ultimately two dollars, and in some cases tliree dol- 
 lars per week by such labor. How welcome an accession to his 
 scanty means many a needy student would find this sum I need 
 not insist on. And when it is considered that this modicum of la- 
 bor would at the same time conduce to his health, vigor, and phys- 
 ical development, and tend to quahfy him for usefulness and inde- 
 pendence in after life, I feel that the importance and the beneficence 
 of the requirement of manual labor embodied in the constitution of 
 this College cannot be overestimated. 
 
 " III. Another idea cherished by the friends of this enterprise 
 was that of justice to woman. They did not attempt to indicate 
 nor to define woman's sphere, — to decide that she ought or ought 
 
664 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 not to vote or sit on juries, — to prescribe how she should dress, 
 nor what should be the limits of her field of life-long exertion. 
 They did not assume that her education should be identical with 
 that of the stronger sex, nor to indicate wherein it should be pecu- 
 liar; but they did intend that the People's College should afford 
 equal facilities and opportunities to young women as to young 
 men, and should proffer them as freely to the former as to the lat- 
 ter, allowing each student, under the guidance of his or her parents, 
 with the counsel of the faculty, to decide for him or lierself what 
 studies to pursue and what emphasis should be given to each. 
 They believed that woman, like man, might be trusted to deter- 
 mine for herself what studies were adapted to her needs, and what 
 acquirements would most conduce to her own preparation for and 
 efficiency in the duties of active life. They held the education of 
 the two sexes together to be advantageous if not indispensable to 
 both, imparting strength, earnestness, and dignity to woman, and 
 grace, sweetness, and purity to man. They believed that such 
 commingling in the halls of learning would animate the efforts and 
 accelerate the progress of the youth of either sex, through the influ- 
 ence of the natural and laudable aspiration of each to achieve and 
 enjoy the good opinion of the other. They believed that the mere 
 aspect of a college whereto both sexes are welcomed as students 
 would present a strong contrast to the naked, slovenly, neglected, 
 ungraceful, cheerless appearance of the old school colleges, which 
 would furnish of itself a strong argument in favor of the more gen 
 erous plan. I trust this idea of the pioneers will not be ignored 
 by their successors. 
 
 "Friends, a noble beginning has here been made ; may the enter- 
 prise be vigorously prosecuted to completion. To this end, it is 
 necessary that means should be provided, — that the wealthy of 
 their abundance and the poorer according to their ability should 
 contribute to the founding and endowment of the noble institution 
 whose corner-stone we have just laid. Let each contribute who 
 can, and a seminary shall here be established which shall prove a 
 blessing, and the parent of kindred blessings, to your children and 
 your children's children throughout future time." 
 
now HE WOULD BEQUEATH AN ESTATE. 565 
 
 WHAT HE WOULD DO IF UK HAD A LARGK ESTATE TO BEQUEATU. 
 
 " To THE Editok of the New Youk Tkiuune: — 
 
 " Sik: — An unmarried man, who has passed the meridian of life, who has 
 gained his plum, and made provision for the attendants who have served him 
 diligently through the summer of life, feels desirous of making the best use of 
 the substance he may leave, and would ask as a special favor of the editors (in 
 whom he has the utmost confidence) what disposition it is best to make of it. 
 Please reply through the medium of your journal, and oblige, 
 
 " A Constant Reader." 
 
 "REPLY. 
 
 " I. If we had ' a plum ' to dispose of, and were as unfettered in 
 its disposition as our ' reader ' would seem to be, we would, first of 
 all things, establish in this city a Universal Free Intelligence Office, 
 — that is, an office to which any person or company in any part of 
 the world might freely apply for laborers in any capacity, and to 
 which persons of each sex and of whatever capacity or condition 
 might freely apply at all times for work. At this office let the 
 names of all who want employment be duly inscribed, stating, 
 1. What they know how to do well ; 2. What they would prefer 
 to do ; 3. What wages will satisfy them ; and 4. Where they may 
 be seen or addressed when not at the office, and at what hour of 
 each day they will call at said office until engaged. Here let also 
 the names of all who want teachers, clerks, copyists, farmers, gar- 
 deners, laborers, cooks, nurses, seamstresses, &c., be inscribed in 
 another set of books, setting forth their respective locations, re- 
 quirements, and what they are willing to pay, and to whom refer- 
 ence may be made in the city with regard to their character and 
 responsibility. Such an office, wherein all who want work and all 
 who want workers should be brought freely into communication 
 with each other, would, at a cost of less than $ 10,000 per annum, 
 save the poor the $ 100,000 or over that they now pay to Intelli- 
 gence Offices, and serve them ten times as well as these do or can. 
 It would add largely to the industrial efficiency of our country, by 
 reducing the sum of involuntary idleness to a minimum, and send 
 back to the cornfields and meadows which need them, thousands 
 of yjuth who now idly, wastefully, perilously haunt our pave- 
 ments, hoping to be employed as clerks, copyists, teachers, &c., 
 when there is no demand for their services in any such capacity; 
 
 " II. If our ' reader ' does not incline to the good work above in- 
 
566 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 dicated, or is able to do that aud something more, or his kind pur- 
 pose is emulated by some one else who has wealth at command, 
 we would earnestly urge the importance of establishing a Free 
 University, — not one wherein aspiring youth may be educated at 
 others' cost, but one wherein youth of either sex may earn their 
 own tuition and subsistence during the years, few or many, which 
 they may see fit to devote to study. This country should have at 
 least one hundred seminaries to which any youth eager to learn 
 and willing to work might repair at any time after his or her fif- 
 teenth year, and there, alternating from work to study daily, being 
 credited for his work, and charged for his room, tuition, and board, 
 remain two, four, or six years, aud find a small balance in his favor 
 on making up his account when preparing to leave. One person, 
 being specially energetic and skilful, might pay his way by three 
 hours' work per day ; others might have to work five to insure the 
 same result; but so long as food, clothing, shelter, &c., are the 
 product of human muscles, it ought to be easy for those who desire 
 to study, yet have no other means than their own God-given fac- 
 ulties, to acquire a thorough education, paying for it as they re- 
 ceive it. We have in our State an embryo of such a seminary in 
 ' The People's College ' (for further information, address Amos 
 Brown, Havana, N. Y.), and there are some kindred beginnings in 
 Ilhnois, Kansas, and other quarters. Let our 'Constant Reader' 
 make himself familiar with these, and, if none of them proves satis- 
 factory, let him, or some one like him, establish a better. What- 
 ever faults may be developed in this or that plan, or its execution, 
 the idea of self-supporting education is a noble one, and will yet be 
 realized. And, if there only were fifty colleges in which youth 
 who aspire to knowledge, but are unblessed (or uncursed) with 
 property, could pursue a thorough course of study, and pay their 
 way throughout by their own labor, we believe they would all be 
 filled with students within a year. 'It is the first step that costs'; 
 and when one such institution shall have been established, and 
 shall have proved that study and labor are by no means incompat- 
 ible, the other forty-nine will easily and rapidly follow. Will not 
 our ' Constant Reader,' and other constant or occasional readers, be 
 moved to do something toward this great and necessary work of 
 rendering the highest and most thorough education accessible to 
 the poorest youth, so that they be willing to work for it? " 
 
now HE BECAME A mOTECTIONIST. 567 
 
 now HE BECAME A "PROTECTIONIST." 
 
 From an address on taking the chair as President of the " Amer- 
 ican Institute," in 18GG : — 
 
 "It is now more tlian thirty-four years since I, a minor and a 
 stranger in this city, had my attention drawn to a notice in the 
 journals that the friends of protection to American industry were 
 to meet that day in convention at the rooms of the American In- 
 stitute, — said Institute being then much younger than, tliough not 
 so obscure as, I was. I had no worlv, and could find none : so, feel- 
 ing a deep interest in and devotion to the cause which that con- 
 vention was designed to promote, I attended its sittings ; and this 
 was my first introduction to the American Institute ; which I have 
 ever since esteemed and honored, though the cares and labors of a 
 busy, anxious hfe have not allowed me hitherto to devote to its 
 meetings the time that I would gladly have given them. 
 
 " I recur to the fact that I was drawn to the American Institute 
 by my interest in and sympathy with the cause of protection to 
 home industry. From early boyhood I had sat at the feet of Hez- 
 ekiah Niles and Henry Clay and Walter Forward and RoUin C. 
 Mallory, and other champions of this doctrine, and I had attained 
 from a perusal of theirs and kindred writings and speeches a most 
 undoubting conviction that the policy they commended was emi- 
 nently calculated to impel our country swiftly and surely onward 
 through activity and prosperity to greatness and assured well- 
 being. I had studied the question dispassionately, — for the jour- 
 nals accessible to my boyhood were mainly those of Boston, then 
 almost if not quite unanimously hostile to protection ; but the argu- 
 ments they combated seemed to me far stronger than those they 
 advanced, and I early became an earnest and ardent disciple of the 
 school of Niles and Clay. I could not doubt that the policy they 
 commended was that best calculated to lead a country of vast and 
 undeveloped resources, like ours, up from rude poverty and depen- 
 dence, to skilled efficiency, wealth, and power. And the convic- 
 tions thus formed have been matured and strengthened by the 
 observations and experience of subsequent years. Thus was I 
 attracted to the rooms and the counsels of the American Institute." 
 
568 Misom.LANEors. 
 
 niS ADVICK TO AMIUTIOUS YOUNG MEN. 
 
 "'I want to go into business,' ia tlio aspiration of our young 
 men; 'can't you find me a place in the city?' their constant in- 
 quiry. ' Friend,' Ave answer to many, ' the best business you car. 
 go into you will find on your father's farm, or in his workslu)|). If 
 you have no family or friends to aid you, and no j)rospeet oiK'ned 
 to you there, turn your llice to the Great West, and there build up 
 a home and fortune. But dream not of getting suddenly rich by 
 speculation, rapidly by trade, or anyhow by a profession : all these 
 avemu!S are choked by eager, struggling aspirants, and ten must be 
 trodden down in the press, where one can vault upon his neighbor's 
 shoulders to honor or wealth. Above all, be neither afraid nor 
 ashamed of honest industry; and if you catch yourself fancying 
 anything nu)re respectable than this, be ashamed of it to the last 
 day of your life. Or, if you find yourself shaking more cordially 
 the hand of your cousin the congressman than of your uncle the 
 blacksmith, as such, write yourself down an enemy to the princi- 
 ples of our institutions, and a traitor to the dignity of humanity.' " 
 
 TO THE LOVERS OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 "Avoid the pernicious error that you nuLst have a profession, — 
 must be a clergyman, lawyer, doctor, or something of the sort, — ■ 
 in order to be influential, useful, respected ; or, to state the case in 
 its best aspect, that you may lead an intellectual life. Nothing of 
 the kind is necessary, — very far from it. If your tendencies are 
 intellectual, — if 3'ou love knowledge, wisdom, virtue, i'or them- 
 selves, you will grow in them, whether you earn your bread by a 
 profession, a trade, or bj"^ tilling the ground. Nay, it may be 
 doubted whether the farmer or mechanic, who devotes his leisure 
 hours to intellectual pursuits from a pure love of them, has not 
 some advantages therein over the professional man. He comes to 
 his book at evening with his head clear and his mental appetite 
 sharpened by the manual labors, taxing lightly the spirit or brain ; 
 while the lawyer, who has been running over dry books for prece- 
 dents, the doctor, who has been racking his wits for a remedy 
 adapted to some new modification of disease, or the divine, who, 
 immured in his closet, has been busy preparing his ne.xt sermon, 
 may well api)roaeh the evening volume with faculties jaded and 
 palled." 
 
TO COUNTRY MERCHANTS. 569 
 
 TO YOUNO LAWYERS AN« UOCTOHS. 
 
 " Qualifij yrmrselues at coller/e to enlu/liten the farmers and rnechanici 
 among whom you nettle in the scientific principles and facta v)hich urir 
 derlie their several vocations. The great trath.s of geology, diernis- 
 try, &c., &e., ouglit to be well known to you when your edueation 
 is completed, and these, if you have the ahility to iin))art and eluci- 
 daUi them, will make you honoraljly known to tlie inhal;itant« of 
 any county wherein you may pit<;li your tent, and will thus inwure 
 you a subsistence from the start, and ultimately professional em- 
 ployment and competence. Qualify yourself to lecture accurately 
 and fluently on the more practical and important principles of Nat- 
 ural Science, and you will soon find opportunities, auditors, cus- 
 tomei-s, friends. Show the farmer how to fertilize his fields more 
 cheaply and effectively than he has hitlierto done, — teach the 
 builder tlie principles and more expedient methods of heating and 
 ventilation, — UtW the mason how to correct, by understanding and 
 obeying nature's laws, tlie defect which makes a chimney smoke 
 at the wrong end, — and you need never stand idle, nor long await 
 remunerating employment." 
 
 TO COUNTRY MKRCnANTS. 
 
 " The merchant's virtue should be not merely negative and ob- 
 structive, — it should be actively beneficent. He should use oppor- 
 tunities afforded by his vocation to foster agricultural and mechan- 
 ical improvement, to advance the cause of education, and diffuse 
 the principles, not only of virtue, but of refinement and correct taste. 
 He should be continually on the watch for whatever seems calcu- 
 lated to instruct, ennoble, refine, dignify, and benefit the community 
 in which he lives. He should be an early and generous patron of 
 useful inventions and discoveries, so far as his position and means 
 will permit. He should Ijc a regular purchaser of new and rare 
 books, such as the majority will not buy, yet ought to read, with 
 a view to the widest dissemination of the truths they unfold. If 
 located in the country, he should never visit the city to replenish 
 his stock, without endeavoring to bring back something that will 
 afford valuable suggestions to his customers and neighbors. If 
 these are in good part fiirmers, and no store in the vicinity is de- 
 voted especially to this department, lie should be careful U) keep a 
 
570 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 supply oi" the best ploughs and other implements of furralng, as 
 well as the ehoieest seeds, cuttings, &e., and those fertilizing sub- 
 stances best adapted to the soil of his township, or most advan- 
 tageously ti'ans{>orted thither; and those he should be very willing 
 to sell at cost, especially to tlio poor or the penurious, in order to 
 encourage their general aoceptanee and use. Though he make no 
 profit directly on the sale of these, ho is indirectly but substantially 
 benefited by whatsoever shall increase the annual production of 
 his township, and thus the ability of his customers to purchase and 
 consume his goods. The merchant whose customers and neighbors 
 are enabled to turn off three, l\\e, seven, or nine hundred dollars' 
 worth of produce per annum from farms which formerly yielded 
 but one or two hundred dollars' worth, beyond the direct consump- 
 tion of their occupants, is in the true and sate road to competence 
 and wealth if he knows how to manage liis business. Every wild 
 wood or waste morass rendered arable and fruitl'ul, every field 
 made to grow fifty bushels of grain per acre where but fifteen or 
 twenty were formerly realized, is a new tributary to the stream of 
 his trade, and so clearly conducive to his prosperity." 
 
 IN AVHAT SEXSE HE CONSIDERS HIMSELF A POt.l'nClAN. 
 
 " If the designation of politician is a discreditable one, I trust I 
 have done nothing toward making it so. If to consider not only 
 what is desirable, but what is possible as well, — if to consider in 
 what order desirable ends can be attained, and attempt them in 
 that order, — if to seek to do one good so as not to undo another, 
 — if either or all of these constitute one a politician, T do not shrink 
 from the appellation." 
 
 HORACE GREKLEY'S TOAST, SENT TO A " KNOW-NOTHINO " BANQUET. 
 
 " TAe Comrailes of Washington, — Let us remember that, while 
 the ' foreigners ' Montgomery and Pulaski died gloriously, fighting 
 for our freedom, while Lafayette, Hamilton, and Steuben proved 
 nobly faithfiil to the end, the traitor Arnold and the false ingrato 
 Burr were sons of the soil, — facts which only prove that virtue is 
 bounded by no geographical limits, and treachery peculiar neither 
 to the native nor the immigrant." 
 
nirt Kil'i.y in A i)i.<i<iiN(i i.l>.'l'i'lf,U, till 
 
 iiirt jd'.i'i.y 'in A lii'.ijiiiNij i.l;i"h,u. 
 
 'I.i nil-. I'JIIIUK lit! IKK Ni-'.W VoKIl 'riillllJWtti — 
 
 My lii.Ait iSiiii - Tlni young (/iiiitl<',iiM-.ii kC IIhj I'liil'dogiiin Literary Ho- 
 cluly 1)1 lli'i MiiBoiiji; (lollegu ruijiniRl, uiu In li!(i<li-.r lli'iir fAinMiK legiirils l>< 
 yiiii aii'l iihk jl'yoii will Im mi kiiiil iw l.o iIkiiiiI"; Ui IIh-.iii a <<<)(y idlliu Wcfckty 
 'IVilmiM!. Till! iS'i'iiiily CKiiaihlH nf l\lly hIhiIuiiIh, who im; luiisJoiiM Ut i'lnn, tur 
 llmir sole l(ciu!<)l, u rciidi/ig-inoiii in l)ii;(r liiill. 
 
 " VVIiili! w<i III! iil/lior your |»iiini|)|i!ii, wb n-..-.|«!<;l. y'/u us it IuIdiiIcI nod li'oi- 
 oiiiMd roi-.j iiikI your j)ii|i(!r woiiM Ix: (;lii;«irully wel'toi/ni'l in one liiill, no(, for 
 lln! |iiinri))j<!.i wliicli il, iiilvoi;iilni4, Inil, (l<c lliu nihility wilJi wlii' li D/cy lue 
 inoniiilKiiln'l. hn iiBSiiic'l, bir, (Iml, w<! will nil l<;".l un<l<ir iniiny ol;l){/iil,ion» if 
 yon will iniilin nii bucIi a \iM:fM\i\,. Willi {/ntliUnlt-, and i<;sj«;<;l, 
 
 " iS. 0. II., (liirri'iiiiimdiiiij Misi:rtl,ary. 
 
 " l-ii.X)w<i'fow, M«<., .Iiuiniuy .')0, ih55." 
 
 "itKi'i. y . 
 
 " Mu. H»';<;ak;TAity : - - Ai/ioiif/ lJio«<i ' jninnj/h^M ' wlixili you Hay 
 you iil*lior, Uiiy oini i.s f>;o/iii))i:)il-, iitiiiicly, Uiat '/o'i Intving wi«i;ly 
 fui'l l)(-iii(.Mily onlitn-ij liiw nu'wiuw, i\nd Humalldiiji can never he ««- 
 quired fur No/hini/j - Umt, 'ho /()ij';li lor ho iiiiii;\)' )« Ui'i <il/<;;)ml 
 mid iiiiiiiiil,aM<; law, mad HlioiiM codCorin liin ';o()<Jii(;t l,o (Jiis Ikj- 
 licjii;<!iil, law.. 'J'Ik; iit\i\i<;r, i\ii; Kwi/)'ll<;r, l.lio \ii:iiyhr, Urn bIhv<i- 
 iiol'lnr, all vainly tjiijipoMU Uial, ihi-.rc, is Ho/m; nihi-.r way ol" M/;qijif- 
 iiif.^ aii'i (tiijoyiiipr Uic joo'iiicU of oUkic /m<j;i'« lal/o/' Uiaji hy payinj^ 
 lor it,; hul, 'Jo<l Hay« no, and li'i will hi; olxiyw'l, Hl/<'al, clx-ial,, l(H{/, 
 or <;(iHlav<i a.s you ;/iay, you ':a;i a(, Ia^hI, hut po.slpoini payrni^nly, — 
 i(, will at/ lanl, l«i <;x;u;Ui'l wiUi fiiaiful uHury. Jii kIio;!-, as Uh-jh is 
 ijo oUuir ]iiii\i(tr way, K'i Uiont is no oUxir way so <;liiia|), whtm we 
 rli^HJrd au(/lil, Ijiat Ih pro'luficd by Ui'i labor of otii't/s, a« (/> lork ov^^r 
 iht', ni'M(U'ii\. lay i(, rif/lit down om Ui<; nail. You will ha-m, tliwe- 
 loMi, Uiat UioK<; (ii:U:iiU;il priii';ipl';K, wlii';li you ar'', at, lih<;; l,y imn/'A',- 
 lorlJi t/i ablior mor*; tjian ev'sr, I'o; bid my rj/iiiiilyiiii/ witjj your 
 d<;lii;a(.<!ly wo)d<;d r<;(ju<iat/, 
 
 " i'lhllhU 'hillilllHIi." 
 
 Hl« Hf.I'l.Y TO AH<t'lliy.H. A. li. 70 »0«A';f, OKKKMiy. 
 
 "I)KAK hut; - In your <;xt,<;ni5i vfe r/trr(i»i)'/iiAjiiit;n, yon Jjav« ijndi/iil/t.odly 
 w/;ur<;d wjvcral ant/^i/riiplis of lli<-, Jat/j diistingnislusd A//<«ri/;an j/'x;l, K'Jjjitf A. 
 l'(t*>. It V), will yoii pl';a!-,<) favor //i'; with on<!, and <>hlig<5, 
 " Vours, /i;»p(-,';tfully, 
 
 "A. «." 
 
b72 WiaOKLLANKOUt*. 
 
 UORAOK QRKKLEY TO A. B. 
 
 "Dkar Sir: — I happun to have in my possession but one auto- 
 gi'ftpb of thfc> Ittto (listinguislieil AuAoiioan pot*t, Edgar A. I'oo, It 
 oonsisU of an I. 0. U., with my namo on tho back of it. It cost 
 me just $50, anvl you can have it for hulfpvico. 
 " Yours, 
 
 "UORAOK tJuKKUCV." 
 
CnA?TKIi XXX VT. 
 
 (;()N(JlilIS]()N. 
 
 Mr. (Irecli^y'a appi.-uriitico uml iiliriMinloKy — A visit lo IiIh rrolilniK!!)- IIIm amhltlon — lie 
 <liirn mil count iiiiijiii'ltli^tl. 
 
 lIoiucK (iKKKr.KV, in l.lii.s _yr,-u' IH(;7, i.s Ili'Ly livr yciirM ol' ago. 
 ]|(! ,st,;iiiilH livr feci, Icii iiiiil ;i liiill' iiic-liCH, and vvcif/lm, |)i:i liii|),s, owe, 
 liuii<Ji'tj(l iiiid lil'l.y-livi) ))()iiii(l:i. Il(; ,mIo(i|im a lil.l.ir, ami in wallcing 
 lio Hwiiiff.M I'roni .sido lo widi^, HonjcLhiiif.^ in llii; Miannt;r of a iijoiigh- 
 niaii. (Sut'ii lidni iicjiind, Im; IooIch, as lio wallcs wiUi lusad do- 
 pr(!,s,s(!(], l)(;Md(;<l liark^ ;ind .swayiiif^ gail,, lil<<5 an olil man; an illu- 
 hIoii wliii:li ifl liciglil,i;n(;d, if a .sl,i'ay Ionic orwliito liair OHCapoH Iroin 
 under lii.s iial,. Hul, llio (!xpr(!SHioii of liin f'ai.-o Ih Hingularly and 
 enf^agin[(Iy yonlliriil. Hit ioin|ilrxion i.s vxlnsiiuily fair, and a 
 Brnilc plays cvry ujion hit lounLciiiuicd Jli.s head, nioanur«;d round 
 tlio organs of Individuaiily and i'liiloprogonilJvcnoHH, in l/wonty- 
 tlireo and a half incliCH in cimmiflji'onco, wliicli i.s oon.sidciably 
 larger tlian Uhj avtM'ago. I lis fondioad i.s round and lull, and li.scH 
 into a liigli and anijilis donio. 'i'lio hair is wliito, inclining l,o rod 
 at tho onds, and lliinly .scattered ovor tlio lioad. Soatod in com- 
 pany, witli his hat oir, he looks not unlike tlie " F'hilo.sophcM- " he in 
 often calh'd ; no om' eonld take him for a comnion man. 
 
 Acoonling to li](! I'hrr.'nological Journal, his hrain is vrry largo, 
 in tlie right place, well halanccd, and of the he.st form, long, nar- 
 row, and high. It indicates. Hays tlie Bamo authoiity, Hinall animal- 
 ity and KelliHhneH.s, extreme henevolencc!, natural nohleness, and 
 loftinoHH of aim. His controlling organs are Adhesiveness, Jienev- 
 olence, Firmness, and Conscientiousness. Reverenco is small; Dc- 
 BtructivenesH and Acquisitiveness less. Aniativeness and J'hilo- 
 progenitivenofis are fnlly developed. 'I'h<! Love of Ajiprohatirui is 
 prominent; 8elf-l']steem not ho. Resistance and Moral Courage 
 are very full; Seeretiveness fujl ; Cautionsness large; Continuity 
 small; Id(?ality fair; Taste very small; Imitation small; Mirtliful- 
 nes.s very large; Eventuality and Comparison large; fianguago 
 g )od ; Reasoning better; Agreeahleness deficii;nt ; Intuition great; 
 
574 CONCLUSIOX. 
 
 Temperament active. His body, adds the Phrenologist, is not 
 enough for his head. 
 
 In manner, Horace Greeley is still a rustic. The Metropolis has 
 not been able to make much impression upon him. He lives amidst 
 the million of his follow-citizens, in their various uniforms, an unas- 
 similated man. 
 
 I have seen Horace Greeley in Broadway on Sunday morning 
 with a hole in his elbow and straws clinging to his hat. I have 
 seen him asleep while Alboni was singing. When he is asked re- 
 specting his health, he answers sometimes by the single word 
 "stout," and there the subject drops. He is a man who might save 
 a nation, but never learn to tie a cravat ; no, not if Brummell gave 
 him a thousand lessons. 
 
 A young gentleman who visited him on a Saturday evening, 
 some years ago, thus relates the interview : — 
 / "In point of pretension, Horace Greeley's house is about midway 
 between the palaces of the Fifth Avenue and the hovels of the Five 
 Points. It is one of a row of rather small houses, two and a half 
 stories high, built of brick, and painted brown ; the rent of which, 
 I was told, is likely to be about seven hundred dollars a year. It 
 was a chilly, disagreeable evening. I went early, hoping to have 
 a little talk with the editor before other company should arrive. I 
 rang the bell, and looked through the pane at the side of the door. 
 The white coat was not upon its accustomed peg, and the old hat 
 stuffed with newspapers was not in its usual place at the bottom 
 of the hat-stand. Therefore I knew that the wearer of these arti- 
 cles was not at home, before the ' girl ' told me so ; but, upon her 
 informing me that he was expected in a few minutes, I concluded 
 to go in and wait. The entrance-hall is exceedingly narrow, and 
 the stairs, narrower still, begin at a few feet from the door, afford- 
 ing room only for the hat-stand and a chair. The carpet on the 
 stairs and hall was common in pattern, coarse in texture. A lady, 
 the very picture of a prosperous farmer's wife, with her clean de- 
 laine dress and long, wide, white apron, stood at the head of the 
 stairs, and came down to meet me. She lighted the gas in the 
 parlors, and then, summoned by the crying of a child up stairs, left 
 me to my observations. 
 
 "Neither I nor anybody else ever saw parlors so curiously fur- 
 nished. There are three of them, and the inventory of the f'urni- 
 
A VISIT TO HIS RKSIDENCE. 0/5 
 
 ture would read thus: One small mahogany tabic at the head of the 
 front parlor; one lounge in ditto; eleven light cane-chaii'S in front 
 and back parlors; one bookcase of carved black-walnut in the 
 small apartment behind the back parlor; and, except the carpets, 
 not another article, of furniture in either room. But the walls were 
 almost covered wnth paintings; the mantel-pieces were densely 
 peopled with statuettes,- busts, and medallions ; in a corner on a 
 pedestal stood a beautiful copy of Powers's Proserpine in marble ; 
 and various other works of art were disposed about the floor or 
 leaned against the walls. Of the quality of the pictures I could 
 not, in that light, form an opinion. The subjects of more than 
 half of them were religious, such as, the Virgin ; Peter, lovest thou 
 me ? Christ crowned with thorns ; Mary, Joseph, and Child ; Vir- 
 gin and Child ; a woman praying before an image in a cathedral ; 
 Mary praying ; Hermit and Skull ; and others. There were some 
 books upon the table, among them a few annuals containing con- 
 tributions by Horace G-reeley, volumes of Burns, Byron, and Haw- 
 thorne, Downing's Rural Essays, West's complete analysis of the 
 Holy Bible, and Ballou's Voice of Universalism. 
 
 " I waited an hour. There came a double and decided ring at 
 the bell. No one answered the summons. Another and most tre- 
 mendous ring brought the servant to the door, and in a moment 
 the face of the master of the house beamed into the room. He 
 apologized thus : 'I ought to have been here sooner, but I could n't.' 
 He flung off his overcoat, hung it up in the hall, and, looking into 
 the parlor, said, ' Just let me run up and see my babies one min- 
 ute ; I have n't seen 'em all day, you know ' ; and he sprung up the 
 stairs two steps at a time. I heard him talk in high glee to the 
 children in the room above for just ' one minute,' and then he re- 
 joined me. He began to talk something in this style : — 
 
 " ' Sit down. I have had a rough day of it, — eaten nothing since 
 breakfast, — just got in from my farm, — been up the country lec- 
 turing, — started from Goshen this morning at five, — broke down, 
 — crossed the river on the ice, — had a hard time of it, — ice a good 
 deal broken and quite dangerous, — lost the cars on this side, — 
 went dogging around to hire a conveyance, — got to Sing Sing, - 
 went over to my farm and transacted my business there as well as 
 I could in the time, — started for the city, and as luck would have 
 it, they had taken off the four o'clock train, — did n't know that I 
 
576 CONCLUSION. 
 
 should get down at all, — harnessed up my own team, and pushed 
 over to Sing Sing again, — hadn't gone far before snap went the 
 whiffletree, — got another though, and reached Sing Sing just two 
 minutes before the cars came along, — I 've just got in, — my feet 
 are cold, — let's go to the fire.' 
 
 " With these words, he rose quickly and went into the back 
 room, not to the fireplace, but to a corner near the folding-door, 
 where hot air gushed up from a cheerless round hole in the floor. 
 His dress, as I now observed, amply corroborated his account ol 
 the day's adventures, — shirt all crumpled, cravat all awry, coat all 
 wrinkles, stockings about his heels, and general dilapidation. 
 
 "I said it was not usual at the- West to go into a corner to warm 
 one's feet; to which he replied by quoting some verses of Holmes 
 which I did not catch. I entreated him to go to tea, as he must 
 be hungry, but he refused 'pine blank.' The conversation fell upon 
 poetry. He said there was one more book he should like to make 
 before he died, and that was a Song-Booh for the People. There 
 was no collection of songs in existence which satisfied his idea of 
 what a popuUir song-book ought to be. He should like to compile 
 one, or help do it. He said he had written verses himself, but was 
 no poet; and bursting into a prolonged peal of laughter, he added, 
 that when he and Park Benjamin were editing the New-Yorker, 
 he wrote some verses for insertion in that paper, and showed them 
 to 'Park,' and 'Park' roared out, 'Thunder and lightning, Greeley, 
 do you call thai poetry ? ' Speaking of a certain well-known versi- 
 fier, he said : ' He 's a good fellow enough, but he can't write po- 
 etry, and if had remained in Boston, he would have killed ■ 
 
 him, he takes criticism so hard. As for me, I like a little opposi- 
 tion, I enjoy it, I can't understand the feeling of those thin-skinned 
 people.' 
 
 " I said I had been looking to see what books he preferred should 
 lie on his table. 'I don't prefer,' he said; 'I read no books. I 
 have been trying for years to get a chance to read Wilhelm Meis- 
 ter, and other books. Was Goethe a dissolute man ? ' To which 
 I replied Avith a sweeping negative. This led the conversation to 
 biography, and he remarked: ' How many wooc^en biographies there 
 are about. They are of no use. Thsre are not half a dozen good 
 biographies in our language. You know what Carlylo says : " I 
 want to know what a man eats, what time he gets up, what color 
 
A VISIT TO HIS RESIDENCE. 577 
 
 his stockings are"?' (Ilis, on this occasion, were white, with a 
 hole in each heel.) .'There 's no use in any man's ■nTiting a biog- 
 raphy unless he can tell what no one else can tell.' Seeing me 
 glance at his pictures, he said he had brought them from Italy, but 
 there was only one or two of them that he boasted of. 
 
 "A talk upon politics ensued. He said he had had enough of 
 party politics. He would speak for temperance, and labor, and 
 agriculture, and some other objects, but he was not going to stump 
 the country any more to promote the interest of party or candi- 
 dates. In alluding to political persons he used the utmost freedom 
 of vituperation, but there was such an evident absence of anger 
 and bitterness on his part, that if the vituperated individuals had 
 overheard the conversation, they would not have been offended, 
 but amused. S[)eaking of association, he said, ' Ah ! our working- 
 men must be better educated; we must have better schools; they 
 must learn to confide in one another more; then they will asso- 
 ciate.' Then, laughing, he added, 'If you know anybody afflicted 
 with democracy, tell him to join an association ; that will cure him 
 if anything will; still, association will triumph in its day, and in ita 
 
 own way.' In reply to G 's definition of Webster as ' a petty 
 
 man, with petty objects, sought by petty means,' he said, ' I caU 
 
 him a ; but his last reply to Hayne was the biggest 
 
 speech yet made ; it 's only so long,' pointing to a place on his arm, 
 'but it's very great.' Another remark on another subject elicited 
 from him the energetic assertion that the ' invention of the key was 
 the Devil's masterpiece.' Alluding to a recent paragraph of his, I 
 said I thought it the best piece of English he had ever written. 
 'No,' he replied, ' there 's a bad repetition in it of the word sober in 
 the same sentence; I can write better English than that.' I told 
 him of the project of getting half a dozen of the be^t men and wo- 
 men of the country to join in preparing a series of school reading- 
 books. He said, ' They would be in danger of shooting over the 
 heads of the children.' To which I replied, 'No; it is common 
 men who do tluxt; great men are simple, and akin to children.' 
 
 "A little child, four years old, with long flaxen hair and ruddy 
 cheeks, came in and said, 'Mother wants you up stairs.' lie caught 
 it up in his arms with every manifestation of excessive fondness, 
 saying, 'No, you rogue, it's you that want him'; and the child 
 wriggled out of his arms and ran away. 
 
 25 EK 
 
578 coxcLusiox. 
 
 '• As I was going, some ladies came in, and I remained a moment 
 longer, at his request. He made a languid and quite indescribable 
 attempt at introduction, merely mentioning the names of the ladies 
 with a faint hoh at each. One of them asked a question about Spir- 
 itualism. He said, ' I have paid no attention to that subject for two 
 years. I became satisfied it would lead to no good. In fact, I am 
 so taken up with the things of this world, that I have too little 
 time to spend on the affairs of the other.' She said, ' A distinction 
 ought to be made between those who investigate the phenomena 
 as phenomena, and those who embrace them fanatically.' 'Yes,' 
 said he, ' I have no objection to their being investigated by those 
 who have more time than I have.' 'Have you heard,' asked the 
 lady, 'of the young man who personates Shakespeare?' 'No,' he 
 replied, ' but I am satisfied there is no folly it wiU not run into.' 
 Then he I'ose and said, ' Take off your things and go up stairs. I 
 must get some supper, for I have to go to that meeting at the 
 Tabernacle to-night' (anti-Nebraska). 
 
 "As I passed the hat-stand in the hall, I said, 'Here is that im- 
 mortal white coat.' He smiled and said, ' People suppose it 's the 
 same old coat, but it is n't.' I looked questioningiy, and he con- 
 tinued, ' The original white coat came from Ireland. An emigrant 
 brought it out ; he wanted money and I wanted a coat ; so x bought 
 it of him for twenty dollars, and it was the best coat I ever had. 
 They do work well, in the old countries ; not in such a hurry as 
 we do.' 
 
 " The door closed, and I was alone with the lamp-post. In an- 
 other hour, Horace Greeley, after such a day of hunger and fatigue, 
 was speaking to an audience of three thousand people in the 
 Tabernacle." , ''. 
 
 This narfatiVe, with other glimpses previously afforded, will per- 
 haps give the reader a sufficient insight into Horace G-reeley's hur- 
 ried, tumultuous way of life. 
 
 Not every day, however, is as hurried and tumultuous as this. 
 Usually, he rises at seven o'clock, having returned from the office 
 about midnight. He takes but two meals a day, breakfast at eight, 
 dinner when he can get it, generally about four. Tea and coffee 
 he drinks never; cocoa is his usual beverage. To depart from his 
 usual routine of diet, or to partake of any viand which experience 
 has shown to be injurious, he, justly denominates a "sin," and 
 
HIS AMBITION. 579 
 
 •' groans " over it with very sincere repentance. A public dinner is 
 one of his pecuhar aversions; and, indeed, it may be questioned 
 whether human nature ever presents itself in a light more despica- 
 ble than at a public dinner, particularly towards the close of the 
 entertainment. Mr. Greeley is a regular subscriber to the New 
 York Tribune, and pays for it at the usual rate. As soon as it ar- 
 rives in the morning, he begins the perusal of that interesting paper, 
 and examines every department of it with great care, bestowing 
 upon each typographical error a heartfelt anathema. His letters 
 arrive. They vary in number from twenty to fifty a day ; every 
 letter requiring an answer is answered forthwith ; and, not unfre- 
 quently, twenty replies are written and despatched by him in one 
 morning. In the intervals of work, there is much romping with 
 the children. But two are left to him out of six. Toward noon, 
 or soon after, the editor is on his way to his oiBce. 
 
 Mr. Greeley has few intimate friends and no cronies. He gives 
 no parties, attends few; has no pleasures, so called; and suffers 
 little pain. In some respects, he is exceedingly frank ; in others, 
 no man is more reserved. For example, his pecuniary affairs, 
 around which most men throw an awful mystery, he has no scru- 
 ples about revealing to any passing stranger, or even to the pubhc ; 
 and that in the fullest detail. But he can keep a secret with any 
 man living, and he seldom talks about what interests him most, 
 Margaret Fuller had a passion for looking at the naked souls of her 
 friends ; and she often tried to get a peep into the inner bosom of 
 Horace Greeley ; but he kept it buttoned close against her observa- 
 tion. Indeed, the kind of revelation in which she delighted he 
 entirely detests, as probably every healthy mind does. 
 
 He loves a joke, and tells a comic story with great glee. His 
 cheerfulness is habitual, and probably he never knew two consecu- 
 tive hours of melancholy in his life. His manner is sometimes ex- 
 ceedingly ungracious ; he is not apt to suppress a yawn in the pres- 
 ence of a conceited bore ; but if the bore is a bore innocently, he 
 submits to the infliction with a surprising patience. He has a sin- 
 gular hatred of bungling, and rates a bungler sometimes with ex- 
 traordinary vehemence. 
 
 He clings to an opinion, however, or a prejudice, with the tena- 
 city of his race ; and has rarely been brought to own himself in the 
 wrong. If he changes his opinion, which sometimes he does, he 
 may show it by altered conduct, seldom by a confession in words. 
 
580 CONCLUSION. 
 
 The great object of Horace Greeley's personal ambition has been 
 to make the Tribune the best newspaper that ever existed, and the 
 leading newspaper of the United States. To a man inflamed with 
 an ambition like this, the temptation to prefer the popular to the 
 right, the expedient to the just, comes with peculiar, with un- 
 equalled force. No pursuit is so fascinating, none so absorbing, 
 none so difficult. The competition is keen, the struggle intense, 
 the labor continuous, the reward doubtful and distant. And yet, 
 it is a fact that, on nearly every one of its special subjects, the Trib- 
 une has stood opposed to the general feeling of the country. Its 
 course on slavery excluded it from the Slave States. When the 
 whole nation was in a blaze of enthusiasm about the triumphs of 
 the Mexican war, it was not easy even for a private person to re- 
 frain from joining in the general huzza. But not for one day was 
 the Tribune forgetful of the unworthiness of those triumphs, and 
 the essential meanness of the conflict. There were clergymen who 
 illuminated their houses on the occasion of those disgraceful victo- 
 ries, — one, I am told, who had preached a sermon on the unchris' 
 tian character of the Tribune. 
 
 Mr. Greeley wrote, some time ago : — 
 
 " We are every day greeted by some sage friend with a caution 
 against the certain wreck of our influence and prosperity which we 
 defy by opposing the secret political cabal commonly known as 
 ' the Know-Nothings.' One writes us that he procured one hun- 
 dred of our present subscribers, and will prevent the renewal of 
 their subscriptions in case we persist in our present course ; another 
 wonders w;hy we will destroy our influence by resisting the pop- 
 ular current, when we might do so much good by falling in with it 
 and guiding it and so on. 
 
 " To the first of these gentlemen we say : ' Sir, we give our time 
 and labor to the production of the Tribune, because we believe 
 that to be our sphere of usefulness ; but we shall be most happy to 
 abandon journalism for a less anxious, exacting, exhausting voca- 
 tion, whenever we are fairly and honorably released from this. 
 You do not frighten us, therefore, by any such base appeals to our 
 presumed selfishness and avarice ; for if you could induce not merely 
 your hundred but every one of our subscribers to de§ert us, we 
 should cheerfully accept such a release from our present duties, and 
 try to earn a livelihood in some easier way. So please go ahead I ' 
 
HE DOES KOT COUNT MAJORITIES. 
 
 581 
 
 "And now to our would-be friend who suggests that we are 
 wrcckin- our influence by breasting the popular current: 'Good 
 sir! do you forget that whatever influence or consideration the 
 Tribune has attained has been won, not by sailing with the stream, 
 but against it? On what topic has it ever swam with the current, 
 except in a few instances wherein it has aided to change the cur- 
 rent? Would any one who conducted a journal for popularity s 
 or pelf's sake be likely to have taken the side of Uquor prohibition, 
 or anti-slavery, or woman's rights, or suffrage regardless of color, 
 when we did ? Would such a one have ventured to speak as we 
 did in behalf of the anti-renters, when everybody hereabouts was 
 banded to hunt them down unheard? Can you think it probable 
 that after what we have dared and endured, we are likely to be 
 silenced now by the cry that we are perilling our influence ? 
 
 " And now if any would prefer to discontinue the Tribune be- 
 cause it is and must remain opposed to every measure or scheme 
 of proscription for opinion's sake, we beg them not to delay one 
 minute on our account. We shall aU live till it is our turn to die. 
 whether we earn a Uving by making newspapers or by doing some- 
 thing else." • 1 ^ 
 These words were written fifteen years ago. If we may judge 
 from recent events, the editor of the Tribune has not changed his 
 system since. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 HORACE GREELEY'S ADVICE TO AMERICAN FARMERS. 
 
 AX ADDRESS AT THE FAYETTE COUNTY AGRICULTURAL, FAIR, CONNERS- 
 VILLE, INDIANA, SEPTEMBER 8, 1858. 
 
 Mr. President and Friends: — I consider the preiiaratioii of an agricul- 
 tural addi-ess, by one whose every-day life is not that of a practical farmer, 
 the most discouraging task ever undertaken by man. It must be begun and 
 prosecuted to completion in full view of the fact that those who are to be won, 
 if possible, to listen to the whole or some part of it, are inflexibly rooted and 
 grounded in two primary convictions: first, that they have little or nothing to 
 learn on the subject; and, secondly, that, even if they could bo taught, he can- 
 not teach them. He is aware that he was invited to speak, not because he was 
 supposed capable of imparting any useful infomiation, — that, if that had been 
 the object, a very difterent sort of person would have been applied to, — but 
 because he is either a pliant lawyer, known to possess a glib- facility of talk- 
 ing, talking, on any subject, whether he knows anything or nothing about it, 
 in^a way to please a crowd; or else he has somehow acquired a notoriety that 
 will help create an interest and a buzz throughout the adjacent country, and 
 thus draw dimes into the Society's not usually overburdened treasury. He is 
 in fact some fancy zebra or mustang which the enterprise of the managers has 
 hired to increase, if it may be, the attractions and profit of the show. I have 
 been a good many times invited to speak at these gatherings ; but I cannot 
 recollect that one of these invitations urged as a reason why I should accept 
 that I could probably say something that the Society or its patrons might prof- 
 itably hear and consider. No speaker at an agricultural fair thinks of being 
 offended or mortified because, after he has been holding forth fifteen or twenty 
 minutes, a majority of tlie young people who first crowded the area in front 
 of him, finding their position constrained and uncomfortable, and that he is 
 merely talking plain, homely common sense about soils, crops, cultivation, and 
 fertilizers, conclude that longer listening will not pay, and quietly sidle off to 
 locations in which they may enjoy the freedom of the grounds and the delights 
 of each other's societV- Is it any wonder, then, that the great majority of 
 speakers at these fairs" find it advisable to deal out wares carefully adapted to 
 the popular demand, to glorify the American farmer as the wisest, gi-catest, 
 happiest of earthly beings, and his rural home as the focus of aU celestial 
 
584 AITENDIX. 
 
 virtue aiul miuKlune bliss, or to laoiiut tlio liif^li-soaring American eaglo and 
 incite liini to expand liis umbrageous winn;a until one of tliem shall overshadow 
 Capo Horn, and tlio other intercept the sunliii;ht that else would gleam on the 
 icy bosom of Hudson's Hay, winding uj) at length with a tribute to "our fair 
 countrywomen," and especially to those whoso bright eyes now dazzle and 
 transfix him, as the moht lovely, onchanting, angelic creatures whose cluster- 
 iug ringlets breeze over fluttered, on whose sera|)hic faces sun over shone! 
 
 I lack taste for that style of oratorj^, — probably because I lack ability to 
 excel in it. if I ever am moved by its utterance, the influence ceases with 
 tlie last tones of the orator's voice, and, in my colder, natural mood, I earnestly 
 ask, If this is all so, what use in talking to such favored, such exalted beings? 
 — at least, what use in ?»»/ talking V Why not rather invite them to speak, 
 while I listen and learn, since 1 am sadly aware that my knowledge of agri- 
 culture is very crude and imperlect? If the actual, average husbandry of our 
 farmers is indeed so wise, so skilful, so coiiforined to the truths of scionco and 
 the dictates of reason, why do they form and sustain societies, and hold fairs, 
 and offer premiums'? All those are, to my mind, indications of a desire for 
 improvement, which implies a consciousness of present imperfection or defi- 
 ciency. I know that with many the State or covmty fair is a more spectacle 
 or holiday; but I insist that, if enjoyment were its sole end, thou a circus 
 would be (piito as efVoctivo, and got up at far less expense. He whom an ag- 
 ricultural fair may not teach can spend his time more profitably elsewhere. 
 
 But whether I am or am not qualified to Instruct, I know that the groat body 
 of the farmers of this country sadly need instruction. I know thoy might, if 
 wiser, secure a larger reward for their labor than they now do. I know they 
 might not only have larger but surer harvests than they now obtain. 1 know 
 that they might and should bo more intelligent, more thriftj', less in debt, 
 more thoroughly comfortable, than they have yet been. I realize that they 
 are to-day in the enjoyment of great advantages, great blessings; but I insist 
 that they nnike their life-struggle under great impediments also, and that these 
 must and should bo removed, while tho former shall be cherished and preserved. 
 These convictions infomi the argument and direct the aim of this address. 
 
 Lot mo deal decisively at the outset with that mistaken consciousness of 
 self-sufficiency which is the chief obstacle to agriodtural progress. It is by 
 no moans a local infirmity, — in fact, I know not a locality absolutely free from 
 it. Bayard Taylor, at tho close of his last winter's survey of modern Greece, 
 whose naturally fertile soil has boon afllictod and exhausted by thirty centu- 
 ries of ruinous abuse at the hands of enslaved or oppressed and benighted cul- 
 tivators, finds in the enormous selJ'-conceU of tho people tho fatal obstacle to 
 improvement in (Ireok tillngo. "To crown the Greek's shortcomings as an 
 agriculturist," says Taylor, " add his egregious vanity, which provents him 
 from suspecting that there is any knowledge in the world superior to his own." 
 And ho proceeds to relate how an English farmer, now twenty-four yeara set- 
 tled in Greece, finds it im])ossiblo to get anything done as it shmdil be, because 
 every laborer he employs insists on teaching him how to do it, instead of obey- 
 ing his directions. Tho same spirit is to-day rampant in venerable, conseiTft- 
 
IIOUACIO (iUKi;i.KV*H ADVICE TO AMKIUCAN !■ Alt.M IJtH. ,^85 
 
 tivo Cliiim, III Wcstirii Asiii, in Sjmiii, us wiill its riindiif^ tlin Went, Iniliii iidgroes, 
 wlio, when riiniisliitd liy llicir niiiisliirs' Imiimiiily with wliecllmiTows in oi'fler 
 timt they niiv'lit. no luiipM- ciiiTy hucIi (iiioniioiis luinii on IIkmi- IihiuIh, juii-hiHtod 
 in carrying liioir ImnlenH in tlio good olil wiiy, wlKiolljiinowH iinil all. Ilcnce 
 I WHS iun'ijly hiiriiiiscil to (iml, iiL tin; cuuncil-ltuiinl (jC ilio gi-cut Wnrlil'.-i Kxlii- 
 bition in London, tliiit Mr. I'liili|i I'liHoy, who tlinrc, rt:|)rohf)nloil iJriti«ii iigricul- 
 tnni, and wlio wits uiidouldinlly one of the inoHt (iiijijfliliini-.d iiiid jjcst Cannera 
 in tlic itinploni, ha<l sihsointcly no conception tliat lliere exiateil any knowl- 
 edf^e, any |)rac.lice, any iinplctinent even, in liie I'onnd woild lie^ide, hy whicli 
 Britisli iif^rieniliire could lie advanced or jiroflted. He evidently jireHunied 
 that to frive |ireniinins for |)loiif.dis, lor inHtance, witli Hole regard to their ahfio- 
 lute merits, would Ite to iiave tho,--e [iri-iniuniri all inonopolizcjd hy lSrilir:h in- 
 vonl;or.s and iriiinul'a(!turerH, at the I'islc of od'ending and niortlfyiiig llione of all 
 other countries; and the trinni|)li of an American reaper, wliich ho wiih among 
 the (ir«t to a(d<nowledge and to ci'owii, was to liim even more an aHtoniMiiment 
 than a gratilication. 1 inHtance thin most intrilligent, Huccensfnl, eminent agri- 
 ciiltnriht, to indicate how universal these p"tjudice,s are. While nearly every 
 other vocation is purHued under circiuiiHtaii c« whicli invite and facilitate u 
 con.Htant comfiari.son of procenHes, jirogress, efliciency, results, each farm is to 
 some extent iiiHulated, if not isolated, and its round of lahors is prosecuted 
 without much regard to what is doing on the next farm, ami much less in the 
 next township. The un[)aralleled frequency of migration, and the conse(|Uent 
 frequency of visits from the new homes to the old hearths, itnil recijd'ocally, 
 somewhat modify this inertia among us; the benign mt influence of our fairs, 
 still more of our agricultural jiress, battles it with even greater efficiency; but 
 it nevertheless remains de[)lorably true that improvements are diffused more 
 slowly and aflo[)ted more reluf:tantly in agriculture, than in any other depart- 
 ment of [iroductive industry. 
 
 But, without further preface, let mo indicate in the brief, suggestive form 
 required by the occasion, what, in my judgirient, are .he jirincipal needs of 
 American agriculture. 
 
 I. I place at the head of all, the need of an adequate coiiception by fai-mer.s 
 of the nature and tlie worth of their vocation. In taking this /(osition, I put 
 aside as imiiertinent, or trivial, or chaffy, all mere windy talk of the dignity, 
 honor, and happiness of the farmer's calling. When I hear any one dilate in 
 this vein, I want Ui look him square in the eye and ask, " Sir, do you know a 
 farmer who acts and lives as though he believed oiw word of tliisV iJo you 
 know one who chooses the brightest, ablest, best instructed among his four or 
 five sons, and says to him, ' Let the rest do as they please, I want you to suc- 
 ceed me in tiie old homestead, and be the best funnar in the country ' ? " Do 
 you know one who really believes that iiis son who is to be a farmer requires 
 as liberal and as thorough an education as his brotiiers who are to be respef> 
 tlvely lawyer, doct^jr, and divine V Do you know one wlio is t//-day personally 
 tilling tiie s^jil, who, if he v/ere enabled U) choose for his only and darling son 
 just what career he preferred above all others, would make him a fanner? If 
 ▼ou do know hucli a fanner, — and I conftiHH I <\ii h<A, — then I say you know 
 2f.* 
 
586 APPENDIX. 
 
 one who ■will not be offended at anything I shall say implying that agriculture 
 is not now the liberal and liberalizing vocation it should and yet must be. 
 Whenever the gi-eat mass of our farmers shall have come fully to realize that 
 there is scope and reward in their own pursuit for all the knowledge and all 
 the wisdom with which their sons can be imbued, — rare geniuses as we know 
 many of them are, — then we shall have achieved the first great step toward 
 making agriculture that first of vocations which it rightfully should be. But 
 to-day it is the cun-ent though unavowed belief of the majority, — and of farm- 
 ers even more than of others, — that any education is good enough for a hus- 
 bandman, and that any blockhead who knows enough to come in when it rains 
 is qualified to manage a farm. 
 
 II. The need of our agriculture next in order is a correction of the common 
 error, that farming is an affair of muscle only ; and that the best farmer is he 
 who delves and gi'ubs from daylight to dark, and from the first of January to 
 the last of December. You will not, I am sure, interpret me as undervaluing 
 industrJ^ diligence, force ; certainly, you will not believe me to commend that 
 style of farming which leaves time for loitering away sunny hours in bar- 
 rooms, and for attending every auction, horse-race, shooting-match, or mon- 
 key-show that may infest the township. I know right well that he who would 
 succeed in any pursuit must carefully husband his time, making every hour 
 count. What I maintain is, that, while every hour has its duties, they are not 
 all muscular; and that the fanner who would wisely and surely thrive must 
 have time for mental improvement as well as for physical exertion. I know 
 there are farmers who decline to take regularly any newspaper, even one de- 
 voted to agi'iculture, because they say they can't afford it, or have no time to 
 read it. I say no farmer can afford to do without one. To attempt it is a 
 blunder and a loss ; if he has children gi'owiug up around him, it is moreover 
 a grievous wrong. If every hard-working farmer, who says he cannot read in 
 summer, because it is a hurrying season, were to set apart two hours of each 
 day for reading and reflection, he would not only be a wiser and happier man 
 than if he gave every hour to mere labor, — he would live in greater comfort 
 and acquire more property. To dig is easily learned ; but to learn how, where, 
 and when to dig most effectively is the achievement of a lifetime. There is no 
 greater and yet no more common mistake than that which confounds inces- 
 sant, exhausting muscular effort with the highest efficiency in fanning. I 
 know men who have toiled early and late, summer and winter, with resolute 
 energy and ample strength, through their forty years of manhood, yet failed 
 to secure a competence, not because they have been specially unfortunate, as 
 they are apt to suppose, but because they lacked the knowledge and skill, the 
 wisdom and science, that would have enabled them to make their exertions 
 tell most effectively. They have been life-long workers; but they have not 
 known how to work to the greatest advantage. Each of them has planted and 
 sowed enough to shield him from want for the remainder of his days; but 
 when the time came for reaping and gathering into barns, his crops were defi- 
 cient. One year, too much rain; the next year, too little; now an untimely 
 frost, and then the ravage of insects, have baffled his exertions and blasted 
 
HORACE Greeley's advice to American farmers. 587 
 
 his liopes, and left him in the down-hill of life still toiling for a hand-to-mouth 
 eubsistcnce. I think the obsei-vation of almost any of you will have furnished 
 parallels in this respect for my own. 
 
 III. Now I am quite aware that no conceivable acquirements and precau- 
 tions, no attainable wisdom and foresight, can absolutely guard the fanner 
 against disappointments and disasters. As the ablest seamanship will not 
 always triumph over the angiy, warring elements, so the most thorough, skil- 
 ful husbandry will not always avert from the fruitful field the ravages of frost, 
 or hail, or flood. It is only in a qualified, yet nevertheless a very important 
 sense, that the maxim, " God is on the side of the heaviest artillery, the 
 strongest battalions," is trae. We cannot certainly afiirm that the man who 
 fai-ms excellently will this year have a bountiful harvest, and that his shiftless, 
 down-at-the-heel neighbor will not have half a crop; for the elements may in 
 either case derange our calculations and defeat our predictions. But what 
 may be doubtful with regard to a single year's operations and their results is 
 not at all questionable when we embrace within our pui'view the operations 
 of a lifetime. The pendulum may swing ever so far this way, then that, but 
 does not the less obey the inexorable law of gravitation; and, in spite of tem- 
 porary and seeming aberrations, the connection of cause with effect is constant, 
 perfect, eternal. The good farmer, he whose fences never fail to protect his 
 crops, and whose crops ai-e so dealt with that they require and justify protec- 
 tion, who ploughs deeper and better, manures his land more bountifully, sows 
 his grain earlier, tills his fields more thoroughly, and keeps down weeds more 
 vigorously, will not only have more bushels per acre, but he will gi'ow his 
 grain cheaper per bushel, seciu'e larger average profits, and thrive far better, 
 than his easy-going neighbor who ploughs in May, plants in June, finds no 
 time for making composts, manures fitfully and sparingly, and tills gradgingly. 
 In any field of honorable exertion, success follows thoroughness and crowns 
 merit. Were it not so, the universe would be a riddle, and the distinction be- 
 tween right and wrong a subtlety or an accident. 
 
 I fear these truths need reiterating in this great valley of the Mississippi 
 with an emphasis that would be out of place in a more sterile region. I have 
 been accustomed for thirty years to hear " the West" commended as a region 
 so fertile that manures were superfluous, and thoroughness in cultivation a 
 sheer waste of eflbrt. That naturally rich virgin prairies, often resting on de- 
 caying limestone, their surface blackened with the ashes of five thousand an- 
 nual conflagrations, will produce better crops than the rugged hillsides of New 
 England, where the yellow soil scarcely covers the unrelenting granite or sand- 
 stone, and whence two centuries of exhausting cultivation have wrenched 
 nearly every plant-forming substance which rains and thaws have not mean- 
 time washed away, is a very manifest truth. It needs no Liebig, no science, 
 no subtle analysis, to teach us that. But I do gravely dispute the current as- 
 sumption that, as a general rule, though poor soils may pay for fertilizing, rich 
 ones will not. I apprehend that the absolute truth is just the opposite of this; 
 that it is the farmer's true economy, if his farm be large and his means but 
 moderate, to apply not only his labor but his fertilizers to his best soils to the 
 
588 APPENDIX. 
 
 neglect of the poorest, leaving the latter in pasture, or in -veood, or in common, 
 as circumstances may determine. It seems tolerably clear that a soil that 
 contains ninety per cent of the elements of a bounteous harvest will better 
 reward the addition of the remaining ten per cent, than one containing but 
 twenty to forty per cent of those elements will reward any application what- 
 ever. I may possibly be wrong in this ; but I cannot help thinking that the 
 grievous mistake of running over too much land; of increasing the area of 
 cultivation rather than the acreable product ; of striving rather to bring a whole 
 farm into a state of middling fertility than to make the best part of it produce 
 the largest possible crops, is quite as common in the West as at the East. 
 
 IV. And here we find ourselves face to face with the gi-eat problem of Sci- 
 EJS'CE IN Farming, which seems to me the central present need of American 
 agriculture. Say, if you wOl, that what is termed agi'icultural science — soil 
 analysis, special fertilizers, and all that — is quackery and humbug; that 
 nobody ever did or ever could tell by chemically analyzing a soil what it 
 would produce to greatest profit, or what could be most profitably added to 
 render it still more productive, — and I shall not contradict you. The more 
 urgent your proofs that no science of agi'iculture now exists, the more obvious 
 is the triith that one is urgently needed. The carpenter, joiner, cabinet-maker, 
 who buys plank, boards, joists, beams, or lathing, — Avho orders oak, pine, 
 hemlock, spruce, or mahogany, — knows just what he is buying and what he 
 can do with it. But how many fanners in a thousand who every year buy 
 lime, plaster, bones, guano, or other fertilizers, know just what they are, and 
 what they wiU do for them ? How many, even of those who freely buy this 
 or that substance to enrich their lands, and who have better crops since than 
 before such pui-chase, know how much of the improvement is due to more far 
 vorable seasons or better culture, how much to the improved composition of 
 the soU ? / try to be an improving farmer, — I keep my eyes open and my. 
 prejudices under foot, — I may be very ignorant, but I know I am not unwill- 
 ing to learn, — I have covered my forty acres successively with almost every 
 fertilizer I could buy, and I know that I have gi'eatly increased their fertility, 
 — but how much of this is due to this ingredient and how much to that, — 
 whether my lime, or my plaster, or my guano, or my ground bones, or my 
 phosphate, was the better purchase, — which of them has proved worth more 
 than its cost, and which, if any, was a bad investment, I have scarcely an 
 idea. Had I been able to live on my farm and constantly watch every devel- 
 opment, I am stire I should have known more on this subject than I now do. 
 But so various are the original or the acquired conditions of our soils, so mul- 
 tiform and so complex are the influences of soil and climate, rain and sunshine, 
 season and culture, that any one man's observation, even though continued 
 through a lifetime, could go but a little way toward establishing the great 
 landmarks of the science we need. But difficulty is not impossibility; and 
 the most majestic edifices are slowly, toilsomely buUt up, stone after stone. 
 We ought to have a thousand patient observers and careful recorders of agi'i- 
 cultural phenomena where we now have a dozen ; each school district should 
 have its chemical laboratory and circle of experiments ; demonstrations should 
 
HORACE GREKLEY'S ADVICE TO AMERICAN FARMERS. 589 
 
 be multiplied, sifted, collated, until, in the crucible of genius, a tnic science 
 of agriculture sliould gradually be evolved, — a science which shall ultimately 
 teach the farmer to buy or combine just such fertilizers as his particular soil 
 needs, and in such forms and quantities as are precisely adapted to its needs. 
 This will be a gi-eat achievement, — one that may well employ a busy century, 
 — but it is so necessary, and will prove so widely beneficeut, that it cannot bo 
 too soon attempted nor too rapidly urged to completion. 
 
 V. Meantime, however, it is requisite that the farmers of this country 
 should acquire a knowledge of Entomology, or the laws of insect life. Our 
 agi-iculture is in danger of local if not general destruction through the multi- 
 plication and ravages of devastators too numerous and too disgusting or con- 
 temptible to be singly exterminated, yet whose conjoint attacks upon us are 
 more formidable and more destructive than those of any human adversary. 
 Our gi-andfathers dreaded and loathed the Hessian soldiers brought over to 
 subdue or slaughter them; but what were their devastations to those of the 
 Hessian fly? The frogs of Egypt, the clouds of locusts that often strip the 
 southern and eastern coasts of the Mediterranean bare of every gi-een leaf, 
 begin to be paralleled by the gi-asshopper pests of our remoter prairies. The 
 midge, the weevil, the chinch-bug, the fly, are rendering the cultivation of 
 our gi-eat bread staple every year more precarious, and its yield more and 
 more meagre. Caterpillars and other vermin infest, injure, and ultimately 
 destroy our fruit-trees. Grubs and wireworms devour our seed in the ground; 
 bugs are equally pernicious to our melons; and it is now pretty well settled 
 that the potato-rot and the oat-rust are the work of minute, but none the less 
 destructive insects. The improvement and careful use of the microscope will 
 doubtless prove in time that scores of mysterious and inscmtable diseases, to 
 which not only plants but animals fall a prey, have a kindred origin. And 
 these devastations are palpal)ly increasing in extent and mischief with each 
 recun-ing year. We must arrest and repel them, or the farmer's vocation will 
 be ruined, and thousands perish for lack of food. 
 
 The vulgar error that nothing can be eflectually done to stop these ravages, 
 that insects must be allowed to come when they will, do what they like, 
 and go when they please, is the great obstacle to their speedy extennination. 
 In fact, it would "not be half so diflScult to cope with worms as with wolves, if 
 we only understood them as well. Their safety, their power, is in our heed- 
 lessness, our ignorance, our unwise despair. I have no doubt that every one 
 of them could be put out of the way, not only without great cost, but with ab- 
 solute profit, apart from the advantage of being rid of them, if we only knew 
 what we might surely though slowly learn with regard to their origin, habits, 
 and vulnerable points. I do not pretend to know just how they should be 
 treated, but I venture the prediction, that the cheap, abundant alkalis, — salt, 
 lime, potash, nitre,- will ultimately be api)lied to seeds and to soils in which 
 these pests lurk in the germ or in infancy, and that they will thus be cut oflf by 
 acres, leaving none to tell the tale of their swift and total destruction. If there 
 be any of them impervious to alkalis, the acids — which are easily produced, 
 and even cheaper — will be found effectual. What we need to know is just 
 
590 APPENDIX. 
 
 when aud how to apply these caustics so as to destroy the adversary, root and 
 branch, yet not injure, but rather benefit, the soil and the expected crops. Here 
 opens a wide field of useful observation and effort, simple and easy to be ex- 
 plored, and certain to reward the intelligent and patient investigator. Until 
 it shall have been traced out, the microscope should be always in the house, 
 when it is not in the hand, of every leading former, and experiment should go 
 hand in hand with observation. Ten years thus improved would enable us 
 to save our now imperilled and half-destroyed crops at a cost below what we 
 now pay for threshing out grain — or rather straw — which the ravages of in- 
 sects have rendered seedless, and thus worthless. 
 
 I have indicated the microscope as an instrament which should be always 
 on the premises and often in the hands of the improving fanner; but I cannot 
 begin here to indicate the miiltifarious and important uses which it might, and 
 ultimately must, be made to subserve. The water of springs, wells, brooks, 
 or artificial reservoirs, when used for culinary purposes, and even that from 
 which animals are allowed to drink, ought to be subjected to its scrutiny, so 
 as to detect the presence of any vitiating or perilous substance in particles too 
 minute to be detected by the unaided eye. The vegetable world, closely 
 scanned by its help, reveals not wonders merely, but lessons by which the 
 wisest and the most ignorant alike may profit. I suspect there cannot be 
 many whose consciousness of their own ignorance would not be deepened — 
 as I confess mine was — by a glance at the microscopically magnified photo- 
 graphic ilhistrations of Dr. Goadby's " Animal and Vegetable Physiology," 
 just published by the Appletons. I then and there truly saw, for the first 
 time, many things that I had been looking at quite frequently from early 
 childhood without at all understanding them. How many of us, for instance, 
 who have an every-day fiimiliarity with the green substance which is seen 
 each summer floating in and upon shallow pools of stagnant, tepid water, and 
 which is popularly attributed in some manner to frogs, because frogs are ad- 
 dicted to such pools, know that it is a living vegetable, — as fully so as oats 
 or clover? How many are even awai"e that the purest brook water is full of 
 living animals, too minute to be discovered by the human eye, but not too 
 small to have perfect organs and external relations, and to love and fight, to 
 grudge and covet, to be envious and jealous, in a spirit very absurd, no doubt, 
 in its occasional manifestations, but which does not necessarily separate them 
 from human interest and human sympathy ? 
 
 Another instrument which seems to me destined to play an important part 
 in the future economy of farming is the barometer. The alternations of storm 
 and calm, cloud and sunshine, are of deepest interest to the mariner; next to 
 him they most concern the fanner, who is often a heavy loser by a bad guess 
 as to what will be the weather for the next twelve or twenty-four hours. But 
 why should he rest content with guessing, when science has provided an in- 
 strument by which changes of weather may be foretold with a veiy decided 
 approach to certainty? Why should not the oldest, thriftiest fanner in each 
 school-district put up his barometer where it may be freely visited and in- 
 spected by his neighbors, especially through the critical season of the summer 
 
HORACE GRKELF.Y's ADVICE TO AMEUICAX FARMERS. 591 
 
 harvest? Why should not the telegraph apprise us wliencvor a storm is rag- 
 ing within two or three hundred miles of us, letting us Icnow where and when 
 it began, in wliat direction it has since moved, and what winds now prevail 
 in its vicinity, so that we may safely compute the chauces and the pi-obable 
 time of its appearance- in our neighborhood? Doubtless, the first deductions 
 from such observations would be crude, imperfect, and often mistaken; bu: 
 experience would gradually and surely correct our errors and improve our 
 conclusions, until we should be qualified, by the help of the telegraph and the 
 barometer combined, to anticipate the weather with as much confidence as 
 we now do the advent of spring, summer, or winter. I may err as to the 
 means, but not as to the fact that beneficent progress in this direction is feasi- 
 ble; therefore, in this day of light and investigation, inevitable. 
 
 VI. One of the greatest present needs of agriculture is a habit of recording 
 and journalizing their experience for public use and benefit on the part of 
 thoroughly practical men. Day after day, we, who are termed theorizers, 
 city farmers, dabblers in agriculture, are reminded of the superiority of prac- 
 tice to theory, fact to speculation, — as if we had ever disputed that aver- 
 ment. Day after day we ineffectually respond, " Yes, we know it; we want 
 facts; we wish to profit by your experience; do not confine it to the narrow 
 limits of your farm and your life, but let us have it so recorded and displayed 
 that all may acquire, comprehend, and pi-ofit by it." But those who say most 
 of the superiority of practice to theory are the last to give the world the bene- 
 fit of their practice. How many com-gi'owers in Indiana can tell what has 
 been the precise cost per bushel of the corn they have grown in each of the 
 last five or ten years ? How many can tell, even for their own guidance, what 
 crops they have grown to the greatest pi'ofit, and which have involved thera 
 in loss, during any term of years? How many know what the live stock 
 which they have raised and now own has cost them? Who knows what the 
 intrinsic value of a hundred acres of good corn land at a given point on the 
 Wabash or Jliami is, and how many dollars, more or less, it should command 
 per acre than just such land in another given locality, therefore more or less 
 convenient to market ? These, and a thousand like questions, require practi- 
 cal solutions, and practical men should promptly grapple with them. The 
 thriving artisan, mechanic and manufocturer, all count the cost of their sev- 
 eral undertakings and products ; if they find they are making an article that 
 does not pay, they speedily relinquish it for another more promising. Will 
 any one say that this is generally the case with our farmers ? 
 
 VII. It is a melancholy truth, that, while the acreable product of Great 
 Britain has increased at least fifty per cent within the last century, that of 
 the United States has actually fallen off! With all our boasted progress, our 
 fairs and premiums, our books and periodicals treating wholly or mainly of 
 agriculture, our subsoil ploughs and vastly improved implements, our self- 
 glorifying orations and addresses at gatherings like this, and our constant 
 presumption and assumption that no people were ever so enlightened and free 
 from antiquated prejudices as ours, this is the net result. Even I can remem- 
 ber when New England farmers grew wheat as an ordinary crop ; now you 
 
592 APPENDIX. 
 
 shall not find a patch of wheat gi'own this year, or to be gi'own next on one 
 New England farm in every five hundred. Thirty-five years ago, when I was 
 a boy employed at land-clearing in Western Vennont, I used to see thirty or 
 forty wheat-laden wagons pass daily, in October and November, on their way 
 to market at Troy or Albany; now Vermont does not export a bushel of 
 wheat, but Imports at least two thirds of the wheaten flour consumed by her 
 people. In those days Western New York produced larger crops of wheat 
 than any other section of our Union, and "Genesee flour" was about the 
 best that could be bought an5'\vhere; to-day, New England not only does not, 
 but could not, by her ordinary processes, produce eight bushels of wheat to 
 each arable acre, while the product of my own State does not exceed ten 
 bushels from each acre sown. We are dreaming of buying our cloth mainly 
 abroad, and paying for it in grain and flour, — a feat which no decently dressed 
 nation was ever yet able to accomplish; yet our ability to grow grain is stead- 
 ily decreasing; and we are quite likely, before the close of this century, to be 
 unable to gi-ow enough for our own use. Our longest cultivated soil is, in the 
 average, far poorer this day than it was when Columbus first set foot on the 
 shore of the New World, and the larger part of it is steadily growing worse. 
 Old Jamestown, the site of the first successful attempt by Englishmen to col- 
 onize North America, could be bought to-day for less than it was worth in 
 John Smith's time; and Plpnouth Rock, though not quite so badly run down, 
 cannot pnidently take on airs at the expense of her rival. There are hun- 
 dreds of square miles together of Maryland, Virginia, and the Carolinas, that 
 yield absolutely nothing, and are scarcely worth taking as a gift: that is to 
 say, it would be cheaper to buy good lands at fifty dollars per acre than to 
 take these as a present, and make them worth as much as the former. In 
 whole sections, they know no other way of renovating worn-out fields than to 
 thi'ow them out into common, and let them gi'ow up to bushes, and ultimately 
 to wood, then clear and !;tart afresh, — which is a little behind the agricultu- 
 ral wisdom of the days of Moses. Two thirds of the originally wooded area 
 of our country has been opened to civilization by pioneers who knew no bet- 
 ter — at least, they did no better — than to extract the potash from the ashes 
 of the primitive forest and sell it for less tlian the average cost of the process, 
 thus robbing their future industry, their future harvests, of an element of most 
 agricidtural products worth to them at least twenty times what they receive 
 for it. So two thirds of the bones of our dead animals have been quietly gath- 
 ered from the gutters and rubbish-heaps of our cities and villages, and shipped 
 off to England or Belgium, to fertilize fields already fiir better supplied with 
 phosphate than ours, the American farmers looking on or co-operating with a 
 heedlessness which would have discredited the stupidity of their own oxen. 
 After foi'ty years of this ruinous traffic, they begin to wake up, — I mean, a 
 few of them do, — and discover that these bones, which have not yielded to the 
 gatherers more than ten cents per bushel, and which they might have secured 
 for an average of less than twenty, were worth at least fifty, — that a soil from 
 which bones have been extracted without return, by means of pasturing and 
 hay-cutting for a century, is incapable of producing either bones or milk ad- 
 
HORACE GUKELEY's ADVICE TO AMKllICAX TAUMKlli 593 
 
 vantageously to the farmer until the slow and unheeded extraction of its phos- 
 phates has been counteracted by replacing them in some foiTn; that what- 
 ever is taken from a good soil must somehow be replaced, or that soil is 
 impoverished, and must run out; that the farmer's art consists in extracting 
 these elements in their most useful and valuable combinations, and replacing 
 them in those of least cost; that he who only knows how to gi'ow great crops, 
 knowing or caring little of the best means of restoring their cciuivalents to the 
 soil, is exactly half a farmer. 
 
 Are these hackneyed tniths? Theoretically, they may he; hut practically 
 they were never more applicable, more necessary, more urgent, than they are 
 to-day. You of this magnificent valley of the Mississippi are living as a peo- 
 ple in their constant and flagrant violation. Blindly confiding in the marvel- 
 lous fertility and depth of your soil, you are taking grain-crop after grain- 
 crop so long as grain will grow, in utter forgetfulness that each bushel exported 
 from your State, your county, renders your soil ahsolutely poorer, and that 
 the process must end in utter exhaustion and sterility; for you are imparting 
 little or nothing to repay the soil for these heavy and constant drafts upon it. 
 In view of this mistaken policy, the grand impi-ovements recently made or 
 now promised in agi-icultural machinery, cast before them a shadow that is 
 absolutely baleful. In the old days, when the plough was a forked hickoiy, 
 with the longer prong for a beam and the shorter for a coulter, and with other 
 implements of like rudeness and inefficiency, the tillage niight be — and was 
 — very unskilful and erroneous, but the earth -was too slightly scratched to 
 be by any means exhausted. But now that we are on the eve of steam 
 ploughing and correspondent advances, the old safeguards against the extreme 
 consequences of human ignorance and perverseness lose their efficiency. We 
 talk, for instance, of certain long-cultivated portions of the seaboard Slave 
 States as worn out, exhausted, ruined, worthless; when they have really 
 never been disturbed, and of course are not at all injured by cultivation, ex- 
 cept for the first four or five inches below their surface. So, measurably, with 
 the past cultivation of the Great West. But when the steam plough comes 
 snorting and tearing through your great prairies, turning up and jjulverizing 
 their soil to a depth of two and even three feet, then you will realize gi-eat* 
 crops at first, with welcome security against both flood and drouth, but paral- 
 leled by an exhaustion of the soil more rapid and thorough than the world 
 has ever known. Then you will understand why I feel and say that a Euro- 
 pean market for your grain and meat is a snare and a curse to you, — that it 
 gives to your industry the drunkard's exliilaration that must be followed by 
 the drunkard's prostration and despair, — that no country ever did or ever 
 can really prosper by the production of rude, bulky staples, and their ex- 
 change in distant, foreign lands for the finer fabrics and tissues which civil- 
 ized comfort and fashion require, — that every acre of this State of Indiana 
 •would be worth fiu- more this day if a bale of cloth or a case of silks could 
 never more reach us from the Old World. For every year of the present 
 course of industry and trade is diminishing the essential value of your soil; 
 and the more bounteous your harvests the greater is this fatal deprocia'.ion. 
 
594 AITENDIX. 
 
 Let rnc hope, at least, that some means of an-esthig it wUl be foiiml ere j'^our 
 fields shall liavo shared the fate of those of too many on the seaboard, out of 
 ■which nearly all that is valuable has been exti-acted in the shape of wheat, 
 corn, tobacco, and live stock, and sjiipped away to increase the fertility of 
 countries which, because they are predominantly manufacturing, theroforo 
 intelligent, thrifty, and constantly receiving and absorbing agricultural staples 
 from abroad, are already the most fertile and productive on earth. 
 
 VIII. I rank among the urgent needs of our agriculture a more intimate 
 and brotherly intercourse among our neighboring farmers and their families. 
 1 apprehend that we are to-day the least social people on earth, and that this 
 is especially true of our purely agricultural districts. The idle and the dissi- 
 pated arc gi-egarious; but our industrious, sober, thrifty farming population 
 enjoy too little of each other's society. In the Old World, for the most part, 
 the tillers of the soil live in villages or hamlets, surrounded, at distances vary- 
 ing from ten rods to three miles, by the lands they cultivate and sometimes 
 own. When the day's labor is over, they gather, in good weather, on the vil- 
 lage green, under a spreading tree, or in some inviting grove, and song and 
 story, conversation and a moonlight dance, are the cheap solace of their priva- 
 tions, their labors, and their cares. But our American farms are islands, sep- 
 arated by seas of forests and fencing, and our farmers, their families, and la- 
 borers, rarely see those living a mile or two away, save when they pass in the 
 road, or meet on Sunday in church. This isolation has many disadvantages, 
 prominent among which are the obstacles it interposes to the adoption of im- 
 proved processes and happy suggestions. As " iron sharpeneth iron," so the 
 simple coming together of neighbors and friends brightens their intellects and 
 accelerates the jjrocess of thinking. The farmer not merely profits by tlK 
 narrations of his neighbor's experience and experiments in this or that field 
 of production, — he gains quite as much by the stimulus given to his desire 
 for improvement as by the facilities afforded for gratifying that desire. It is 
 well that he should bo enabled to share the benefits of others' observations and 
 achievements ; it is even better that he should bo incited to observe and achieve 
 for himself. But, more than all else, it is important that ho should now and 
 ' then be lifted out of the dull routine of ploughing, tilling, and reajiing, that he 
 should be reminded that " the life is more than meat," and that the growing 
 of grain and grass, the acquisition of flocks and herds, are means of living, not 
 the ends of life. Especially is it important to give a more social, fraternal, in- 
 tellectual aspect to our rui-al economy, in view of the needs and cravings of 
 the rising generation, who, educated too little to enjoy solitude and their own 
 thoughts, too much to endure the life of oxen, are being unfitted by their very 
 acquirements for the rural existence which satisfied their less intellectual, less 
 cultivated grandfathers. It is the most melancholy feature of our present so- 
 cial condition that very few of our bright, active, inquiring, intellectual youth 
 are satisfied to grow up and settle down farmers. After all the eloquence and 
 poetry that have been lavished upon the farmer's vocation, — its independence, 
 its security, its dignity, its quiet, its happiness, — there are not many decidedly 
 clever youth, even in the households of fanners, who are deliberately choosing 
 
HORACE GREFXEY's ADVICE TO AMEUrCAX FARMERS. 595 
 
 the farmer's calling as preferable to all others. Hundreds drift or settle into 
 agriculture because they cannot acquire a professional training, or because 
 they hate to study, or because they cannot get trusted for a stock of goods, or 
 for some one of a hundred other such reasons ; very fow because they decidedly 
 prefer this life to any other. Advertise in the same paper to-morrow for a 
 clerk in a store and for a man to work on a farm, the wages hi each case being 
 tlie same, and you will have twenty applications for the former jilace to one for 
 the latter. This fact argues a grave error somewhere; and, as I don't believe it 
 is in human nature, nor in that Providential necessity which requires most of 
 us to be farmers, I must believe it is to be detected in the arrangements anc' 
 conditions under which farm labor is performed. We must study out the de- 
 fect and amend it. When the rural neighborhood shall have become more 
 social and the farmer's home more intellectual, when the best books and peri- 
 odicals, not only agricultural but others also, shall be found on his evening 
 table, and his hired men be invited to profit by them, the general repugnance 
 of intellectual youth to farming will gi-adually disappear. 
 
 IX. Nor can I refrain from insisting on the beautifying of the farmer's 
 homestead as one of the most needed reforms in our agricultural economy. We 
 Americans, as a people, do less to render our homes attractive than any other 
 people of equal means on earth. And for this there is very much excuse. We 
 are " rolling stones " which have not yet found time to gather any very grace- 
 ful moss. We are on our march from Western Europe to the shores of the 
 Pacific, and have halted from time to time by the way, but not yet settled. 
 That sacred and tender attachment to home which pervades all other human 
 breasts has but slender hold upon us. There are not many of us who would 
 K»t sell the house over his own head if he were oflered a good price for it. 
 Not one fourth of us now live in the houses in which we were born; not half 
 of us confidently expect to die in the homes we now occupy. Hence we can- 
 not be expected to plant trees, and train vines, and set flowering shrubs, as we 
 might do if we had, in the ])roper sense of the word, homes. I5ut we ought to 
 have homes, — we ought to resolve to have them soon. I would say to every 
 head of a family: Whatever else you may do or forbear to do, select your home 
 forthwith, and resolve to abide by it. Let your next move, if move you must, 
 be inflexibly your last. I would say to our youth: Never marry, never fix 
 upon any place of abode or occupation, until you shall have selected your 
 home. If you will have it in Oregon or California, so be it; but fix it some- 
 where, and so soon as may be ; at least before you form any other ties that 
 promise to be enduring. Though it be but a hut on a patch of earth, let it be 
 your fixed home evermore, and begin at once to improve and beautify it in 
 every hour that can be spared from more pressing avocations and needful re- 
 pose. So shall your later years be calm and tranquil, so shall you realize and 
 diffuse the blessedness which inheres in that sacred temple, home ! 
 
 The one great point of superiority enjoyed by our countrymen over their 
 cousins in Western Europe is the facility wherewith every American who is 
 honest, industrious, and sober may acquire, if he does not already possess, a 
 homestead of his own ; not a leasehold from some great capitalist or feudal 
 
596 APPENDIX. 
 
 baron, but a spot of earth of which no man may rightfully dispossess him so 
 long as he shall shun evil courses and live within his means. In Europe, on 
 the other hand, save in France, but a small minority of the workers own the 
 lands they till, the dwellings they inhabit, while a large proportion eveu of the 
 thrifty and forehanded, including some who would here be deemed quite rich, 
 cannot call one foot of earth their own. To own arable land in Great Britain 
 is a mark of social distinction, a badge of high caste, so that estates are held 
 at prices which hardly yield three per cent to the producers, and only the 
 very wealthy can really afford to bo owners of laud. But here there is not a * 
 youth of eighteen to-day who cannot, by simple industry, economy, and tem- 
 perance, have his own farm of fifty to a hundred acres of fair land by the time 
 he shall have attained the age of twenty-five; and it is an amazing fact that 
 two thirds of our youth seem utterly heedless of this opportunity, wasting 
 their days and their dollars in frivolous amusements or rash speculations, and 
 suffering ripe manhood to creep upon them while still drifting with the tide, 
 with greedy ears for every tale of a new California, Australia, Sonora, or 
 Nicaragua, but blind to the truth that to the instructed brain and willing hand 
 every field is a placer, and that gold is acquired far more surely in Indiana 
 than in new Caledonia. Youth being thus squandered on delusive hopes and 
 vain adventures, the cares and burdens of an increasing family bar the way 
 to future acquisition, and the mistaken dreamer, who in his youthful prime 
 regarded the slow and arduous gains of the hired worker with contempt, lives 
 to drag out forty years of grudging toil, floating from fai-m to farm, never ris- 
 ing above that necessity of living from liand to mouth which he might, while 
 still young and single, have vanquished forever by five years' patient, plod- 
 ding industry. Again let me exhort you, young men ! to choose your futuHf 
 homes; choose where you will, choose carefully, but choose soon, and re- 
 solve, by years of quiet energj^ and patient thrift, to make them your own for- 
 ever ere you shall be weighed down by the heavy burdens of riper years. 
 You cannot deliberately choose to pass your lives as other men's hirelings; 
 yet this is the end to which you drift if you set sail from the haven of youth 
 without the ballast of some nest-egg, fairly earned and saved, as the nucleus 
 of future acquisitions. The rule is almost infallible that the young man who 
 has saved nothing out of the earnings of his first year of independence will 
 never earn and save anything. So, on the other hand, he who can say, on his 
 twenty-second birthday, " I have fairly earned what I could during the past 
 year, have saved fully half of it, and owe no man a dollar," is morally certain, 
 if his life and health be spared, to win his way steadily to independence and 
 competence. It is the first step that counts as well as costs; let our young 
 men be entreated to take that step thoughtfully and in the right direction. 
 
 How light the occasional labor and how great the success with which even 
 the humblest home may be enriched and beautified, especially by tree-plant- 
 ing, is yet but imperfectly realized. Only the few can live in lordly man- 
 sions: but roadside elms which shade the lowliest cot may be as stately and 
 graceful as any that stud the park of the wealthiest merchant, the proudest 
 earl. As 1 am whirled through our rural districts, and see house after house 
 
IIORACK GKEKLEY'S ADVICE TO AMERICAN FARMERS. 597 
 
 unsheltered even by a single tree, I mourn the heedlessness, the blindness, 
 which thus denies them an ornament and comfort so completely within the 
 reach of the poorest. The farmer who goes to mill or to market may return 
 with a sapling which, once fairly planted (and it is a good half-day's work to 
 prepare the ground for and properly plant a tree) and effectually shielded from 
 injury, will be a solace and a joy to his family and their successors for centu- 
 ries. In a country whose forests are so rich in admirable trees as are ours, — 
 where the buckeye, the tulip, the elm, the maple, the white-oak, and the hickory 
 are so easily procured, — it is a shame that even one himian habitation so 
 much as a year old should still be unblest by shade-trees. Every school-house, 
 every church, — at least where land can still be bought by the acre, — should 
 be half hidden by a grove of the most umbrageous, hardy, cleanly trees, and 
 every school-boy should consider himself a debtor by at least one tree to the 
 little edifice in which the rudiments of knowledge were first instilled into his 
 understanding, until such a grove shall there have been completed. 
 
 X. In our capricious, fervid climate, we need shade-trees; but not these 
 alone. The dearth of fruit, especially in the West, is still almost universal. 
 Not one dwelling in ten is flanked and backed by such a belt of apple, peach, 
 pear, cherry, quince, and plum trees as should thrive there. Of gi-apes, there 
 is not a vine where there should be a hundred. Even the hardj' and easily 
 started currant-bush is not half so abundant as it deserves to be. Most farm- 
 ers would deem it a waste to devote two square rods of each of their gardens 
 to the strawberrj'; while the bare idea of cultivating raspberries or blackber- 
 ries strikes a large majority of them as intensely ridiculous. Now there is no 
 dispute as to the folly of cultivating that which abounds on every side and 
 may be obtained without labor or care; and I judge, from observations on the 
 fence-sides and comers of many farms, that the cultivation of anything of the 
 brier kind on those farms would be a most supei-fluous undertaking. Yet I do 
 not the less insist that as a people we have far too little fruit, and that most 
 of this is of needlessly inferior quality; that the grossness of our food is the 
 cause of many painful and disabling diseases which a free and frequent use 
 of good fniit would prevent; that, even regarded solely in the light of profit, 
 our farmers ought to grow more and better fniit, both for their own use and 
 for sale; and that noble orchards as well as forests must in time diversify the 
 bare landscape even of the great prairies, breaking the sweep of their fierce 
 winds, and increasing the salubrity of the atmosphere, and contributing in a 
 thousand ways to the physical enjoyment and spiritual elevation of man. 
 
 I leave untouched, for this occasion, the great fields of drainage, or the me- 
 chanical preparation of the soil foi LhJtgt, ji fertilizers, or its material, essen- 
 tial improvement; and of implements, or the means of its economical cultiva- 
 tion ; for my hour draws to a close, and even the few who suppose it possible 
 that I should advance some ideas worthy of consideration are not willing to be 
 hearers forever. Let me simply add, with reference to these departments of 
 agricultural knowledge, that I believe we are on the verge of grand, far-reach- 
 ing transformations; that genius and science are destined to revolutionize the 
 production of grain, as they have already, and but recently, that of cloth ; that 
 
598 APPENDIX. 
 
 the time is at hand -when combined, organized effort, guided by the ripest ex- 
 perience, the fullest knowledge, will produce and send to market cargoes of 
 wheat, corn, oats, &c., at a cost per bushel and in a profusion with which in- 
 dividual energy, cramped by costly division fences, stinted in capital, using 
 inferior imi^lements, ploughing feebly and shallowly at a snail's pace a foot in 
 width, instead of tearing up and pulverizing an acre or two per hour to a depth 
 of two or three feet, and using the muscle of men and animals also in thrash- 
 ing and winnowing, will not be able successfully to compete. Indeed, it were 
 idle to presume that the genius for mechanical invention, which has so re- 
 cently revolutionized household industry by the invention of the spinning- 
 jenny and the power-loom, resistlessly taking away the whole business of 
 transmuting fibi-es into fabrics from the family fireside to the spacious fac- 
 tory, — which is now rapidly effecting a still further transformation in sup- 
 planting the needle by the sewing-machine, — and which is soon to effect a 
 like change in washing and in the operations of the dairy, — will leave tlie 
 husbandman sowing and tilling his fields as his father and grandfather did 
 before him. Already, the implements required to till a farm advantageously, 
 in number and cost overtax the ability of the average fanner, and compel him 
 to work at disadvantage against the owner of broad acres, of steam-power, 
 seed-drills, cultivators, reapers, and threshing-machines. This disparity is 
 sure to increase, lessening the relative value in agriculture of mere human 
 muscle, and rendering intellectual force and training, not merely an advantage, 
 but an absolute necessity to all who would not sink to the lowest level of ab- 
 ject dnidgeiy. But to the instructed, intelligent, wide-awake cultivator, no 
 change which the future has in store threatens evil or counsels discourage- 
 ment. For him, and such as he is, every advance in the mastery of Nature 
 by man is a personaJ advantage and an assurance of that ultimate triumph 
 wherein, every atmospheric change being foreseen and prepared for, every 
 latent force of Nature evolved and rendered useful, the marvels of chemistry 
 shall become the familiar handmaids of tillage, and every breeze that wanders 
 idly across a continent shall joui'uey laden with bounties and blessings for the 
 human race. 
 
 THE END. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 011 897 153 A 
 
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