attended with any interesting occurrences. And some thing of this nature may also happen to the reader who shall take the trouble to peruse the following production: if he read with the fond expectation of amusement, and find himself at the last disappointed, he may notwithstanding have the pleasure of throwing down the paper and bestowing a few curses on our savage dulness and stupidity. As we turned round a corner, we encountered Frank Fluent. We have known Frank several years, and are not ignorant of his faults; but there is something so amusing in his observations that we are always rather pleased than otherwise when we partake of his society. savage Frank. Which way Piomingo? Have you ventured from your wigwam? I congratulate you on your civilized Were it not for that appearance. wildness in your countenance, (of which I am afraid you will never devest yourself) you might pass for a christian. Do you know that I heard a dispute concerning you the other day? Piomingo. Of what nature? Frank. Why thus it happened: I was standing with some gentlemen at the southeast corner of Third and Market streets, when Piomingo marched along on the opposite side. “Who is that wild looking man?" said one. "I cannot tell," said a second; "is he not a Malayan?" "No," said a third, "I believe he 's an Algerine." "An Algerine!" cried the first, "impossible! were he an Algerine, he would wear a turban and mustaches. This man dresses like a christian: I should rather take him for a Spaniard or a Portuguese." "Do not Spaniards wear mustaches?" said the third. "I have seen that fellow frequently in the streets," said a fourth; "but I cannot tell what to make of him; he has a damned outlandish appearance." Piomingo. And what did you say, Frank? you could not possibly have been silent all this while. Frank. I told them I thought you were a spy. Piomingo. Did they coincide with you in opinion? Frank. Yes: they thought my conjecture extremely probable; but, some of them said you were in the pay of Bonaparte; others contended that you must be an emis sary of England: so the discourse became political; and you were forgotten. But, my dear Piomingo, what is the use of walking for ever? Let us make a halt at some of these watering places, and refresh ourselves. Piomingo. How shall we refresh ourselves? Frank. By drinking, smoking, talking, &c. Come along. Are not savages naturally fond of spirituous liquors ? Piomingo. No sir: savages are not naturally fond of spirituous liquors. They drank at first out of mere complaisance to their christian visitants; but having once experienced the exhilarating effects of ardent spirits, many of them have become addicted to intemperance. They are under great obligation to their civilized neighbors for having made them acquainted with the pleasures of intoxication. However, I have no objection to follow you into the temple of Bacchus and worship the presiding divinity, soberly; but I shall endeavor to avoid becoming an enthusiastic devotee in his service. This house, said Frank as we entered, is frequented by idlers of every description. Here you may be enter tained with philosophical disputes, political discussions, and religious disquisitions. No subject is too important to be agitated over a bowl; nor is any thing too trivial to occupy attention. See, here is a company this moment deeply interested in the politics of the nation: let us sit down on the opposite side and watch the issue of the contest. Piomingo. I am careless about the issue of the contest-but who is that corpulent man at the end of the table, with the red face and enormous belly? Frank. That is Mr. Bluff, a wealthy grazier and a justice of the peace for the county of Philadelphia. Piomingo. I knew he was wealthy, by the confidence which appears in his countenance; but how does he administer justice? is he learned in the laws of his country? Frank. I will answer you in the words of the son of Sirach: "how should he get wisdom, whose talk is of bullocks?" He knows no more of the law than I do of Sanscrit. Yet he is not more ignorant than his brother magistrates in general. There is not one in a hundred of them who is capable of reading a page of law, even if they thought proper to attempt it. Whenever a man becomes rich and acquires a little influence in his neighborhood, he is immediately created a justice of the peace, without any inquiry being made as to his education or abilities. Piomingo. But I thought that respectable citizens were always selected to fill an office of such importance to the community. Frank. So they are, I assure you, Piomingo: respectable that is wealthy citizens are always appointed to this office. Yes, yes, they are "all, all, respectable men." Piomingo. You do not certainly make those two words synonymous? Frank. With us, they are perfectly synonymous. Piomingo. If wealth make a man a justice of the peace, will it not also advance him to a seat in the legislature? Frank. Yes: if the man be possessed of sufficient cunning to make the most of the means in his possession, he may become a senator without being able to read the constitution of the state which he swears to support, or to write one sentence grammatically in the language of the country. Piomingo. You however acknowledge that there is something else, beside riches, necessary to his advance ment. Frank. Wealth is power: but if a man be an idiot, and make no use of the power he possesses, he then becomes an instrument in the hands of some one who is more enterprising and ambitious; and that influence, which he has neglected to employ for his own advantage, is exerted in favor of another. We sometimes see an indigent man, who has talents for intrigue, rise rapidly from his original insignificance to the most conspicuous stations in the community; but how is this done? He begins by cringing to the opulent, and is advanced through their instrumentality. Piomingo. Such a man is no demagogue: I thought it had been necessary, for one who would become eminent, in a democratical state, to caress the poor and conciliate the favor of the multitude. Frank. When this man has acquired wealth, or the appearance of wealth, he then becomes a demagogue: he then has power to influence the people; whereas, in his original state of indigence, had he attempted to practise any demagogical arts, he would have made himself ridiculous. Piomingo. Is it, then, necessary that a demagogue should be rich? Frank. Certainly: a poor man is necessarily dependent on the opulent. Who then can influence his decisions-the man who possesses power, or he who possesses none? Piomingo. It seems to follow from your reasoning that the people, notwithstanding their poverty, are possessed of the power, since their support is solicited by the rich. Frank. The people may choose their leader, but have no power to pursue any plan of their own. Have you not demonstrated, in one of your Savages, that the indigent man is always a slave; though he has sometimes the liberty of exchanging one master for another?-What the devil do you mean, Piomingo? do you argue in favor of civilization? Piomingo. I do not argue: I merely suggest those obstacles that occur, lest hereafter there might appear to be some broken links in the chain of your reasoning. Do you not allow that rich men are sometimes governed by those that are not in possession of riches? Frank. Yes, in the same manner that a weak prince is governed by his favorites. Piomingo. Do not most of your constitutions provide that persons, not property, are to be represented in your legislative assemblies? Frank. There are verbal provisions to that effect in some of our written constitutions; yet it is easy to prove that property, not persons, is represented in every assembly in the United States. Quid leges sine moribus Wealth, in the present state of society, exercises a sovereign and independent influence and laughs at the laws or constitutions that would circumscribe its power. It may possibly be said that, let a man's possessions be ever so great, he has but one vote at an election. But let us consider the subject a little more attentively: suppose an opulent man can influence the suffrages of fifty men on such occasions, is not that the same thing in reality as if these votes were given by himself personally? Nothing is more common than to hear politicians talk of a man's vote and influence: and the influence, in general, is a matter of much more importance than the vote. Yet, although the ascendency of wealth is openly avowed, we are told that the voters are perfectly independent; and that persons, and not property, are represented. Piomingo. What appropriate name can we give to your government, since you will not allow it to be purely republican? Frank. It is a representative democracy in appearance; but in reality, a representative ploutocracy or government of wealth. Piomingo. Really, Frank, you are a perfect savage! I am amazed that any one who has tasted the sweets of civilized society should make use of such arguments. Frank. Really, Piomingo, you are mistaken if you suppose that I have any intention of exchanging smiling fields, cheerful villages, and populous cities, for the lonely woods and gloomy caverns of the wilderness. I had much rather have my ears stunned with the "busy hum" of civilized drunkards in a crowded stinking grogshop, than trust my life to beasts of prey, Or men as fierce and wild as they. Every thing wild is my aversion: even you, Piomingo, though you were caught young, and appear to be as tame as a lamb, become occasionally an object of horror. When I observe your red visage and high cheek bones; when I think of your skulking and howling, your powwows and war dances, and the number of scalps you have taken; I shrink with involuntary terror, and draw away my chair from the savage. No, indeed, I am no enemy to civilization; but I think it quite necessary for a man who has to make his way in the world to be able |