'Gentlemen: An unfortunate difference with my son prevents my longer using him as my indorser. I have not, as yet, been able to secure another; and, our banks requiring two home names on time drafts, I have to beg you to honor a small bill at one day's sight. I have drawn for one thousand dollars. Please honor.'
'Gentlemen: An unfortunate difference with my son prevents my longer using him as my indorser. I have not, as yet, been able to secure another; and, our banks requiring two home names on time drafts, I have to beg you to honor a small bill at one day's sight. I have drawn for one thousand dollars. Please honor.'
To this I at once replied:
'Dear Sir: We have advice of your draft for one thousand dollars. To protect your credit, we shall pay it; but we beg you will draw no more, till you forward bills of lading.'You are now overdrawn some five thousand dollars, which, by the maturing of your drafts, has become acashadvance. The death of our senior, Mr. Randall, and the consequent withdrawal of his capital, has left us with an extended business and limited means. Money, also, is very tight, and we therefore earnestly beg you to put us in funds at the earliest possible moment.'
'Dear Sir: We have advice of your draft for one thousand dollars. To protect your credit, we shall pay it; but we beg you will draw no more, till you forward bills of lading.
'You are now overdrawn some five thousand dollars, which, by the maturing of your drafts, has become acashadvance. The death of our senior, Mr. Randall, and the consequent withdrawal of his capital, has left us with an extended business and limited means. Money, also, is very tight, and we therefore earnestly beg you to put us in funds at the earliest possible moment.'
No reply was received to this letter; but, about ten days after its transmission, Preston himself walked into my private office. His clothes were travel stained, and he appeared haggard and careworn. I had never seen him look so miserably.
He met me cordially, and soon referred to the state of his affairs. His wife, the winter before, had agreed to reside permanently at Newbern, and content herself with an allowance of three thousand dollars annually; but at the close of the year he found that she had contracted debts to the extent of several thousand more. He was pressed for these debts; his interest was in arrears, and he could raise no money for lack of another indorser. Ruin stared him in the face, unless I again put my shoulder to the wheel, and pried him out of the mire. The turpentine business was not paying as well as formerly, but the new plantation was encumbered with only the original mortgage—less than six thousand dollars—and was then worth, owing to an advance in the value of land, fully twenty thousand. He would secure me by a mortgage on that property, but Imustallow the present indebtedness to stand, and let him increase it four or five thousand dollars. That amount would extricate him from present difficulties; and, to avoid future embarrassments, he would take measures for a legal separation from his wife.
I heard him through, and then said:
'I cannot help you, my friend. I am very sorry; but my own affairs are in a most critical state. I owe over a hundred thousand dollars, maturing within twenty days, and my present available resources are not more than fifty thousand. I have three hundred thousand worth of produce on hand, but the market is so depressed that I cannot realize a dollar upon it. The banks have shut down, and money is two per cent. a month in the street. What you owe us would aid me wonderfully; but I can rub through without it. That much I can bear, but not a dollar more.'
He walked the room for a time, and was silent; then, turning to me, he said—each separate word seeming a groan:
'I have cursed every one I ever loved, and now I am bringing trouble—perhaps disaster—uponyou, the only real friend I have left.'
'Pshaw! my good fellow, don't talk in that way. What you owe us is only a drop in the bucket. We have made twice that amount out of you; so give yourself no uneasiness, if youneverpay it.'
'But I must pay it—Ishallpay it;' and, continuing to pace the room silently for a few moments, he added, giving me his hand: 'Good-by; I'm going back to-night.'
'Back to-night!—without seeing Selly, or my wife? You are mad!'
'Imustgo.'
'You mustnotgo. You are letting affairs trouble you too much. Come, go home with me, and see Kate. A few words from her will make a new man of you.'
'No, no; I must go back at once. I must raise this money somehow.'
'Send money to the dogs! Come with me, and have a good night's rest. You'll think better of this in the morning. And now it occurs to me that Kate has about seven thousand belonging to Frank. He means to settle it on Selly when they are married, and she might as well have it first as last. Perhaps you can get it now.'
'But I might be robbing my own child.'
'You can give the farm as security; it's worth twice the amount.'
'Well, I'll stay. Let us see your wife at once.'
While we were seated in the parlor, after supper, I broached the subject of Preston's wants to Kate. She heard me through attentively, and then quietly said:
'Frank is of age—he can do as he pleases; butIwould not advise him to make the loan. I once heard my father scout at the idea of taking security on property a thousand miles away. I would not wound Mr. Preston's feelings, but—his wife's extravagance has led him into this difficulty, and her property should extricate him from it. Her town house, horses, and carriages should be sold. She ought to be made to feel some of the mortification she has brought upon him.'
Preston's face brightened; a new idea seemed to strike him. 'You are right. I will sell everything.' His face clouded again, as he continued: 'But I cannot realize soon enough. Your husband needs money at once.'
'Never mind me; I can take care of myself. But what is this trouble with Joe? Tell me, I will arrange it. Everything can go on smoothly again.'
'It cannot be arranged. There can be no reconciliation between us.'
'What prevents? Who is at fault—you, or he?'
'I am. He will never forgive me!'
'Forgive you! I can't imagine what you have done, that admits of no forgiveness.'
He rose, and walked the room for a while in gloomy silence, then said:
'I will tell you. It is right you should know. Youbothshould know the sort of man you have esteemed and befriended for so many years;' and, resuming his seat, he related the following occurrences:
'Everything went on as usual at the plantation, till some months after Rosey's marriage to Ally. Then a child was born to them. It was white. Rosey refused to reveal its father, but it was evidently not her husband. Ally, being a proud, high-spirited fellow, took the thing terribly to heart. He refused to live with his wife, or even to see her. I tried to reconcile them, but without success. Old Dinah, who had previously doted on Rosey, turned about, and began to beat and abuse her cruelly. To keep the child out of the old woman's way, I took her into the house, and she remained there till about two months ago. Then, one day, Larkin, the trader, of whom you bought Phylly and the children, came to me, wanting a woman house-servant. I was pressed for money, and I offered him—a thing I never did before—two or three of my family slaves. They did not suit, but he said Rosey would, and proposed to buy her and the child. I refused. He offered me fifteen hundred dollars for them, but I still refused. Then he told me that he had spoken to the girl, and she wished him to buy her. I doubted it, and said so; but he called Rosey to us, and she confirmed it, and, in an excited way, told me she would run away, or drown herself, if I did not sell her. She said she could live no longer on the same plantation with Ally. I told her I would send Ally away; but she replied: 'No; I am tired of this place. I have suffered so much here, I want to get away. Ishallgo; whether alive or dead, is foryouto say.' I saw she was in earnest; I was hard pressed for money; Larkin promised to get her a kind master, and—I sold her.'
'Sold her! My God! Preston, she was your own child!'
'I know it,' he replied, burying his face in his hands. 'The curse ofGodwas on it; it has been on me for years.' After a few moments, he added: 'But hear the rest, andyouwill curse me, too.'
Overcome with emotion, he groaned audibly. I said nothing, and a pause of some minutes ensued. Then, in a choked, broken voice, he continued:
'The rosin transaction had been gone into. I had used up what blank indorsements I had. Needing more, and wanting to consult with Joe about selling the rosin, I went to Mobile. It was five weeks ago. I arrived there about dark, and put up at the Battle House. Joe had boarded there. I was told he had left, and gone to housekeeping. A negro conducted me to a small house in the outskirts of the town. He said Joe lived there. Wishing to surprise him, I went in without knocking. The house had two parlors, separated by folding doors. In the back one a young woman was clearing away the tea things; in the front one, Joe was seated by the fire, with a young child on his knee. I put my hand on his shoulder, and said: 'Joe, whose child have you here?' He looked up, and laughingly said: 'Why, father, you ought to know; you've seen it before!' I looked closely at it—it was Rosey's! I said so. 'Yes, father,' he replied; 'and there's Rosey herself. Larkin promised she should have a kind master, and—he kept his word.' The truth flashed upon me—the child was his! My only son had seduced hisown sister! I staggered back in horror. I told him who Rosey was, and then'—no words can express the intense agony depicted on his face as he said this—'then he cursed me! O my God!HE CURSED ME!'
I pitied him, I could but pity him; and I said:
'Do not be so cast down, my friend. I once heard you say: 'The Lord is good. His mercy is everlasting!''
'But he cannot have mercy on some!' he cried. 'Mysins have been too great; they cannot be blotted out. I embittered the life of my wife; I have driven my daughter from her home; sold my own child; made my generous, noble-hearted boy do a horrible crime—a crime that will haunt him forever. Oh! the curse of God is on me. My misery is greater than I can bear.'
'No, my friend; God curses none of his creatures. You have reaped what you have sown, that is all; but you have suffered enough. Better things, believe me, are in store for you.'
'No, no; everything is gone—wife, children, all! I am alone—the past, nothing but remorse; the future, ruin and dishonor!'
'But Selly is left you.Shewill always love you.'
'No, no! Even Selly would curse me, if she knewall!'
No one spoke for a full half hour, and he continued pacing up and down the room. When, at last, he seated himself, more composed, I asked:
'What became of Rosey and the child?'
'I do not know. I was shut in my room for several days. When I got out, I was told Joe had freed her, and she had disappeared, no one knew whither. I tried every means to trace her, but could not. At the end of a week, I went home, what you see me—a broken-hearted man.'
The next morning, despite our urgent entreaties, he returned to the South.
The twenty days were expiring. By hard struggling I had met my liabilities, but the last day—the crisis—was approaching. Thirty thousand dollars of our acceptances had accumulated together, and were maturing on that day. When I went home, on the preceding night, we had only nineteen thousand in bank. I had exhausted all our receivables. Where the eleven thousand was to come from, I did not know. Only one resource seemed left me—the hypothecation of produce; and a resort to that, at that time, before warehouse receipts became legitimate securities, would be ruinous to our credit. My position was a terrible one. No one not a merchant can appreciate or realize it. With thousands upon thousands of assets, the accumulations of years, my standing among merchants, and, what I valued more than all, my untarnished credit, were in jeopardy for the want of a paltry sum.
I went home that night with a heavy heart; but Kate's hopeful words encouraged me. With her and the children left to me, I need not care for the rest; all might go, and I could commence again at the bottom of the hill. The next morning I walked down town with a firm spirit, ready to meet disaster like a man. The letters by the early mail were on my desk. I opened them one after another, hurriedly, eagerly. There were no remittances! I had expected at least five thousand dollars. For a moment my courage failed me. I rose, and paced the room, and thoughts like these passed through my mind: 'The last alternative has come. Pride must give way to duty. I must hypothecate produce, and protect my correspondents. I must sacrifice myself to save my friends!
'But here are two letters I have thrown aside. They are addressed to me personally. Mere letters of friendship! What is friendship, at a time like this?—friendship without money! Pshaw! I wouldn't give a fig for all the friends in the world!'
Mechanically I opened one of them. An enclosure dropped to the floor. Without pausing to pick it up, I read:
'Dear Father: Mother writes me you are hard pressed. Sell my U. S. stock—it will realize over seven thousand. It is yours. Enclosed is Cragin's certified check for ten thousand. If you need more, draw onhim, at sight, for any amount. He says he will stand by you to the death.'Love to mother.Frank.''P. S.—Fire away, old fellow! Hallet is ugly, but I'll go my pile on you, spite of the devil.Cragin.'
'Dear Father: Mother writes me you are hard pressed. Sell my U. S. stock—it will realize over seven thousand. It is yours. Enclosed is Cragin's certified check for ten thousand. If you need more, draw onhim, at sight, for any amount. He says he will stand by you to the death.
'Love to mother.
Frank.'
'P. S.—Fire away, old fellow! Hallet is ugly, but I'll go my pile on you, spite of the devil.
Cragin.'
'Saved! saved by my wife and child!' I leaned my head on my desk. When I rose, there were tears upon it.
It wanted some minutes of ten, but I was nervously impatient to blot out those terrible acceptances. I should then be safe; I should then breathe freely. As I passed out of my private office, I opened the other letter. It was from Preston. Pausing a moment, I read it:
'My very dear Friend: I enclose you sight check of Branch Bank of Cape Fear on Bank of Republic, for $10,820. Apply what is needed to pay my account; the rest hold subject to my drafts.'I have sold my town house, furniture, horses, etc., and the proceeds will pay my home debts. I shall therefore not need to draw the balance for, say, sixty days. God bless you!'
'My very dear Friend: I enclose you sight check of Branch Bank of Cape Fear on Bank of Republic, for $10,820. Apply what is needed to pay my account; the rest hold subject to my drafts.
'I have sold my town house, furniture, horses, etc., and the proceeds will pay my home debts. I shall therefore not need to draw the balance for, say, sixty days. God bless you!'
'Well, the age of miracles isnotpassed! Howdidhe raise the money?'
Stepping back into the private office, I called my partner:
'Draw checks for all the acceptances due to-day; get them certified, and take up the bills at once. Don't let the grass grow under your feet. I shall be away the rest of the day, and I want to see them before I go. Here is a draft from Preston; it will make our account good.'
He looked at it, and, laughing, said:
'Yes, and leave about fifty dollars in bank.'
'Well, never mind; we are out of the woods.'
When he had gone, I sat down, and wrote the following letter:
'My dear Frank: I return Cragin's check, with many thanks. I have not sold your stock. My legitimate resources have carried me through.'I need not say, my boy, that I feel what you would have done for me. Words are not needed betweenus.'Tell Cragin that I consider him a trump—the very ace of hearts.'Your mother and I will see you in a few days.'
'My dear Frank: I return Cragin's check, with many thanks. I have not sold your stock. My legitimate resources have carried me through.
'I need not say, my boy, that I feel what you would have done for me. Words are not needed betweenus.
'Tell Cragin that I consider him a trump—the very ace of hearts.
'Your mother and I will see you in a few days.'
In half an hour, with the two letters in my pocket, I was on my way home. Handing them to Kate, I took her in my arms; and, as I brushed the still bright, golden hair from her broad forehead, I felt I was the richest man living.
Within the same week I went to Boston. I arrived just after dark; and then occurred the events narrated in the first chapter.
For war is now upon their shores,And we must meet the foe,Must go where battle's thunder roars,And brave men slumber low;Go, where the sleep of death comes onThe proudest hearts, who dareTo grasp the wreath by valor won,And glory's banquet share.
'Obstupui! steteruntque comæ, et vox faucibus hæsit.'
There is a certain portion of mankind ever on the alert to see or hear some wonderful thing; whose minds are attuned to a marvellous key, and vibrate with extreme sensitiveness to the slightest touch; whose vital fluid is the air of romance, and whose algebraic symbol is a mark of exclamation! This sentiment, existing in some persons to a greater degree than in others, is often fostered by education and association, so as to become the all-engrossing passion. Children, of course, begin to wonder as soon as their eyes are opened upon the strange scenes of their future operations. The first thing usually done to develop their dawning intellect, is to display before them such objects as are best calculated to arrest their attention, and keep them in a continual state of excitement. This course is succeeded by a supply of all sorts oftoys, to gratify the passion of novelty. These are followed by wonderful stories, and books of every variety of absurd impossibilities;—which system of development is, it would seem, entirely based upon the presumption, that the faculty of admiration must be expanded, in order that the young idea may best learn how toshoot. It is therefore quite natural, that—the predisposition granted—a faculty of the mind so auspiciously nurtured under the influence of exaggeration should mature in a corresponding degree.
Thus we have in our midst a class, into whose mental economy the faculty ofwonderis so thoroughly infused, that it has inoculated the entire system, and forms an inherent, inexplicable, and almost elementary part of it. These persons sail about in their pleasure yachts, on roving expeditions, under a pretended 'right of search,' armed to the teeth, and boarding all sorts of crafts to obtain plunder for their favorite gratification. They are most uneasy and uncomfortable companions, having no ear for commonplace subjects of conversation, and no eye for ordinary objects of sight.
When such persons approach each other, they are mutually attracted, like two bodies charged with different kinds of electricity—an interchange of commodities takes place, repulsion follows, and thus reënforced, they separate to diffuse the supply of wonders collected.
By this centripetal and centrifugal process, the social atmosphere is subjected to a continual state of agitation.Languageis altogether too tame to give full effect to their meaning, and all the varieties ofdumb show, ofgesticulation,shrugs, and wise shakes of the head, are called into requisition, to effectually and unmistakably express their ideas. The usages of good society are regarded by them as a great restraint upon their besetting propensity to expatiate in phrases of grandiloquence, and to magnify objects of trivial importance. They are always sure to initiate topics which will afford scope for admiration; they delight to enlarge upon the unprecedented growth of cities, villages, and towns; upon the comparative prices of 'corner lots' at different periods; and to calculate how rich theymighthave been, had they only known as muchthenasnow.
They experience a gratification when a rich man dies, that the wonder will now be solved as to the amount of his property; and when a man fails in business, that it isnowmade clear—what has so long perplexed them—'how he managed to live so extravagantly!' Seethem at an agricultural fair, and they will be found examining the 'mammoth squashes' and various products of prodigious growth—or they will install themselves as self-appointed exhibiter of the 'Fat Baby,' to inform the incredulous how much it weighs! See them at a conflagration, and they wonder what was thecauseof the fire, andhow farit will extend?
They long to travel, that they may visit 'mammoth caves' and 'Giant's Causeways.' We talk of the 'Seven Wonders of the World,' while to them there is a successive series for every day in the year—putting to the blush our meagre stock of monstrosities—making 'Ossa like a wart.' Nothing gratifies them more than the issuing from the press of an anonymous work, that they may exert their ingenuity in endeavoring to discover the author; and, when called on for information on the subject, prove conclusively to every one but themselves, that they know nothing whatever about the matter.
The ocean is to them only wonderful as the abode of 'Leviathans,' and 'Sea Serpents,' 'Krakens,' and 'Mermaids'—abounding in 'Mäelstroms' andsunkenislands, and traversed by 'Phantom Ships' and 'Flying Dutchmen' in perpetual search for some 'lost Atlantis;'—all well-attested incredibilities, certified to by the 'affidavits of respectable eye-witnesses,' and, we might add, by 'intelligent contrabands,'—and all in strict conformity with the convenient aphorism 'Credo quia impossibile est.' They are ever ready to bestow their amazement upon a fresh miracle as soon as the present has had its day—like the man who, being landed at some distance by the explosion of a juggler's pyrotechnics, rubbed his eyes open, and exclaimed, 'I wonder what the fellow will do next!'
If a steamboat explodes her boiler, or the walls of a factory fall, burying hundreds in the ruins, their hearts—rendered callous by the constant stream of cold air pouring in through theirever-open mouths—are not shocked at the calamity, but they wonder if it wasinsured!
The increase of population in this country affords a most prolific and inexhaustible fund for statistical astonishment, as an interlude to the entertainment, while something more appalling is being prepared.
The portentous omens so often relied on by the credulous believers in signs, have so frequently proved 'dead failures,' that one would suppose these votaries would at length become disheartened. But this seems not to be the case—like a quack doctor when his patient dies, their audacity is equal to any emergency, and, with the elasticity of india rubber, they come out of a 'tight squeeze' with undiminished rotundity. Withstupidamazement, hair all erect, and ears likewise, they pass through life as through a museum, ready to exclaim with Dominie Sampson at alltheycannot understand, 'Pro—di—gi—ous!'
It matters little, perhaps, in what form this principle is exhibited, while it exists and flourishes in undiminished exuberance. Thus says Glendower:
'At my nativityThe front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,Of burning cressets; and, at my birth,The frame and huge foundation of the earthShak'd like a coward.Hotspur.Why so it would have doneAt the same season, if your mother's cat hadBut kittened, though yourself had ne'er been born.'
Glendower naturally enough flouts this rather impertinent comment, and 'repeats the story of his birth' with still greater improvements, till Hotspur gives him a piece of advice which will do for his whole race of the present day, viz., 'tell the truth, and shame the devil.'
The English people of this generation are rather more phlegmatic than their explosive neighbors across the channel, and neither the injustice of black slavery abroad, nor the starvation ofwhiteslaves at home, can shake themfrom their lop-sided neutrality,so long as money goes into their pocket. The excitable French, on the contrary, require an occasionalcoup d'étatto arouse their conjectures as to the next imperial experiment in the art of international diplomacy.
The press of the day teems with all sorts of provisions to satisfy the cravings of a depraved imagination, and even the most sedate of our daily papers are not above employing 'double-leaded Sensations,' and 'display Heads' as a part of their ordinary stock in trade; while from the hebdomadals, 'Thrilling Tales,' 'Awful Disclosures,' and 'Startling Discoveries,' succeed each other with truly fearful rapidity. Thus he who wastes the midnight kerosene, and spoils his weary eyes in poring over the pages of trashy productions, so well designed to murder sleep, may truly say with Macbeth, 'I have supp'd full with horrors.'
It is certainly remarkable (as an indication of the pleasure the multitude take in voluntarily perplexing themselves), how eagerly they enter into all sorts of contrivances which conduce to bewilderment and doubt. In 'Hampton Court' there is a famous enclosure called the 'Maze,' so arranged with hedged alleys as to form a perfect labyrinth. To this place throngs of persons are constantly repairing, to enjoy the luxury of losing themselves, and of seeing others in the same predicament.
Some persons become so impatient of the constant demand upon their admiration, that they resist whatever seems to lead in that direction. Washington Irving said he 'never liked to walk with his host over the latter's ground'—a feeling which many will at once acknowledge having experienced. A celebrated English traveller was so annoyed by the urgent invitations of the Philadelphians to visit the Fairmount Water Works, that he resolvednotto visit them, so that he might have the characteristic satisfaction of recording the ill-natured fact.
'Swift mentions a gentleman who made it a rule in reading, to skip over all sentences where he spied a note of admiration at the end.'
The instances here quoted are, to be sure, carrying out the 'Nil admirari' principle rather to extremes, and are not recommended for general observance. The most remarkable and prominent wonders in the natural world seldom meet the expectation of the beholder, because he looks to experience a new sensation, and is disappointed; and so with works of art, as St. Peter's at Rome—
——'its grandeur overwhelms thee not,And why? it is not lessen'd; but thy mind,Expanded by the genius of the spot,Has grown colossal.'
Wonderis defined as 'the effect of novelty upon ignorance.' Most objects which excite wonder are magnified by the distance or the point of view, and their proportions diminish and shrink as we approach them. It is a saying as old as Horace, 'ignotum pro magnifico est': we cease to wonder at what we understand. Seneca says that those whose habits are temperate are satisfied with fountain water, which is cold enough for them; while those who have lived high and luxuriously, require the use ofice. Thus a well-disciplined mind adjusts itself to whatever events may occur, and not being likely to lose its equanimity upon ordinary occasions, is equally well prepared for more serious results.
'Let us never wonder,' again saith Seneca, 'at anything we are born to; for no man has reason to complain where we are all in the same condition.' But notwithstanding all the precepts of philosophers, the advice of all men of sense, and the best examples for our guides, we go on, with eyes dilated and minds wide open, to see, hear, and receive impressions through distorted mediums, leading to wrong conclusions and endless mistakes.
'Wonders will never cease!' Of course they will not, so long as there are so manypersons engaged in providing the aliment for their sustenance; so long as the demand exceeds the supply; so long as mankind are more disposed to listen to exaggeration rather than to simple truths, and so long as they shall tolerate the race ofwonder-mongers, giving them 'aid and comfort,' regardless of their being enemies of our peace, and the pests of our social community.
July,—what is the news they tell?A battle won: our eyes are dim,And sad forbodings press the heartAnxious, awaiting news from him.Hour drags on hour: fond heart, be still,Shall evil tidings break the spell?A word at last!—they found him dead;He fought in the advance, and fell.Oh aloes of affliction pouredInto the wine cup of the soul!Oh bitterness of anguish storedTo fill our grief beyond control!At last he comes, awaited long,Not to home welcomes warm and loud,Not to the voice of mirth and song,Pale featured, cold, beneath a shroud.Oh from the morrow of our livesA glowing hope has stolen away,A something from the sun has fled,That dims the glory of the day.More earnestly we look beyondThe present life to that to be;Another influence draws the soulTo long for that futurity.Pardon if anguished souls refrainToo little, grieving for the lost,From thinking dearly bought the gainOf victory at such fearful cost.Teach us as dearest gain to prizeThe glory crown he early won;Forever shall his requiem rise:Rest thee in peace, thy duty done.
Virginia was a considerable colony, when Pennsylvania was occupied only by Indian tribes. In 1790, Virginia was first in rank of all the States, her number of inhabitants being 748,308. (Census Rep., 120,121.) Pennsylvania then ranked the second, numbering 434,373 persons. (Ib.) In 1860 the population of Virginia was 1,596,318, ranking the fifth; Pennsylvania still remaining the second, and numbering 2,905,115. (Ib.) In 1790 the population of Virginia exceeded that of Pennsylvania 313,925; in 1860 the excess in favor of Pennsylvania was 1,308,797. The ratio of increase of population of Virginia from 1790 to 1860 was 113.32 per cent., and of Pennsylvania in the same period, 569.03. At the same relative ratio of increase for the next seventy years, Virginia would contain a population of 3,405,265 in 1930; and Pennsylvania 19,443,934, exceeding that of England. Such has been and would continue to be the effect of slavery in retarding the progress of Virginia, and such the influence of freedom in the rapid advance of Pennsylvania. Indeed, with the maintenance and perpetuity of the Union in all its integrity, the destiny of Pennsylvania will surpass the most sanguine expectations.
The population of Virginia per square mile in 1790 was 12.19, and in 1860, 26.02; whilst that of Pennsylvania in 1790 was 9.44, and in 1860, 63.18. (Ib.) The absolute increase of the population of Virginia per square mile, from 1790 to 1860, was 13.83, and from 1850 to 1860, 2.85; whilst that of Pennsylvania from 1790 to 1860, was 53.74, and from 1850 to 1860, 12.93. (Ib.)
Area.—The area of Virginia is 61,352 square miles, and of Pennsylvania, 46,000, the difference being 15,352 square miles, which is greater, by 758 square miles, than the aggregate area of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Delaware, containing in 1860 a population of 1,803,429. (Ib.) Retaining their respective ratios of increase per square mile from 1790 to 1860, and reversing their areas, that of Virginia in 1860 would have been 1,196,920, and of Pennsylvania 3,876,119. Reversing the numbers of each State in 1790, the ratio of increase in each remaining the same, the population of Pennsylvania in 1860 would have been 5,408,424, and that of Virginia, 926,603. Reversing both the areas and numbers in 1790, and the population of Pennsylvania would have exceeded that of Virginia in 1860 more than six millions.
Shore Line.—By the Tables of the Coast Survey, the shore line of Virginia is 1,571 miles, and of Pennsylvania only 60 miles. This vastly superior coast line of Virginia, with better, deeper, more capacious, and much more numerous harbors, unobstructed by ice, and with easy access for so many hundred miles by navigable bays and tide-water rivers leading so far into the interior, give to Virginia great advantages over Pennsylvania in commerce and every branch of industry. Indeed, in this respect, Virginia stands unrivalled in the Union. The hydraulic power of Virginia greatly exceeds that of Pennsylvania.
Mines.—Pennsylvania excels every other State in mineral wealth, but Virginia comes next.
Soil.—In natural fertility of soil, thetwo States are about equal; but the seasons in Virginia are more favorable, both for crops and stock, than in Pennsylvania. Virginia has all the agricultural products of Pennsylvania, with cotton in addition. The area, however, of Virginia (39,265,280 acres) being greater by 9,825,280 acres than that of Pennsylvania (29,440,000 acres), gives to Virginia vast advantages.
In her greater area, her far superior coast line, harbors, rivers, and hydraulic power, her longer and better seasons for crops and stock, and greater variety of products, Virginia has vast natural advantages, and with nearly double the population of Pennsylvania in 1790. And yet, where has slavery placed Virginia? Pennsylvania exceeds her now in numbers 1,308,797, and increased in population, from 1790 to 1860, in a ratio more than five to one. Such is the terrible contrast between free and slave institutions!
Progress of Wealth.—By Census Tables (1860) 33 and 36, it appears (omitting commerce) that the products of industry, as given, viz., of agriculture, manufactures, mines, and fisheries, were that year in Pennsylvania, of the value of $398,600,000, or $137 per capita; and in Virginia, $120,000,000 or $75 per capita. This shows a total value of product in Pennsylvania much more than three times that of Virginia, and, per capita, nearly two to one. That is, the average value of the product of the labor of each person in Pennsylvania, is nearly double that of each person, including slaves, in Virginia. Thus is proved the vast superiority of free over slave labor, and the immense national loss occasioned by the substitution of the latter for the former.
As to the rate of increase; the value of the products of Virginia in 1850 was $84,480,428 (Table 9), and in Pennsylvania, $229,567,131, showing an increase in Virginia, from 1850 to 1860, of $35,519,572, being 41 per cent.; and in Pennsylvania, $169,032,869, being 50 per cent.; exhibiting a difference of 9 per cent. in favor of Pennsylvania. By the Census Table of 1860, No. 35, p. 195, the true value then of the real and personal property was, in Pennsylvania, $1,416,501,818, and of Virginia, $793,249,681. Now, we have seen, the value of the products in Pennsylvania in 1860 was $398,600,000, and in Virginia, $120,000,000. Thus, as a question of the annual yield of capital, that of Pennsylvania was 28.13 per cent., and of Virginia, 15.13 per cent. By Census Table 35, the total value of the real and personal property of Pennsylvania was $722,486,120 in 1850, and $1,416,501,818 in 1860, showing an increase, in that decade, of $694,015,698, being 96.05 per cent.; and in Virginia, $430,701,082 in 1850, and $793,249,681 in 1860, showing an increase of $362,548,599, or 84.17 per cent.
By Table 36, p. 196, Census of 1860, thecashvalue of the farms of Virginia was $371,092,211, being $11.91 per acre; and of Pennsylvania, $662,050,707, being $38.91 per acre. Now, by this table, the number of acres embraced in these farms of Pennsylvania was 17,012,153 acres, and in Virginia, 31,014,950; the difference of value per acre being $27, or largely more than three to one in favor of Pennsylvania, Now, if we multiply the farm lands of Virginia by the Pennsylvania value per acre, it would make the total value of the farm lands of Virginia $1,204,791,804; and theadditionalvalue, caused by emancipation, $835,699,593, which is more, by $688,440,093, than the value of all the slaves of Virginia. But the whole area of Virginia is 39,265,280 acres, deducting from which the farm lands, there remain unoccupied 8,250,330 acres. Now, if (as would be in the absence of slavery,) the population per square mile of Virginia equalled that of Pennsylvania, three fifths of these lands would have been occupied as farms, viz., 4,950,198, which, at the Pennsylvania value per acre, would have been worth $188,207,524. Deduct from this their present average valueof $2 per acre, $9,800,396, and the remainder, $178,407,128, is the sum by which the unoccupied lands of Virginia, converted into farms, would have been increased in value by emancipation. Add this to the enhanced value of their present farms, and the result is $1,014,106,721 as the gain, on this basis, of Virginia in the value of her lands, by emancipation. To these we should add the increased value of town and city lots and improvements, and of personal property, and, with emancipation, Virginia would now have an augmented wealth of at least one billion and a half of dollars.
The earnings of commerce are not given in the Census Tables, which would vastly increase the difference in the value of their annual products in favor of Pennsylvania as compared with Virginia. These earnings include all not embraced under the heads of agriculture, manufactures, the mines, and fisheries. Let us examine some of these statistics.
Railroads.—The number of miles of railroads in operation in Pennsylvania in 1860, including city roads, was 2,690.49 miles, costing $147,283,410; and in Virginia, 1,771 miles, costing $64,958,807. (Census Table of 1860, No. 38, pp. 230, 232.) The annual value of the freight carried on these roads is estimated at $200,000,000 more in Pennsylvania than in Virginia, and the passenger account would still more increase the disparity.
Canals.—The number of miles of canals in Pennsylvania in 1860 was 1,259, and their cost, $42,015,000. In Virginia the number of miles was 178, and the cost, $7,817,000. (Census Table 39, p. 238.) The estimated value of the freight on the Pennsylvania canals is ten times that of the freight on the Virginia canals.
Tonnage.—The tonnage of vessels built in Pennsylvania in 1860 was 21,615 tons, and in Virginia, 4,372. (Census, p. 107.)
Banks.—The number of banks in Pennsylvania in 1860 was 90; capital, $25,565,582; loans, $50,327,127; specie, $8,378,474; circulation, 13,132,892; deposits, $26,167,143:—and in Virginia the number was 65; capital, $16,005,156; loans, $24,975,792; specie, $2,943,652; circulation, $9,812,197; deposits, $7,729,652. (Census Table 35, p. 193.)
Exports and Imports, etc.—Our exports abroad from Pennsylvania, for the fiscal year ending 30th June, 1860, and foreign imports, were of the value of $20,262,608. The clearances, same year, from Pennsylvania, and entries were 336,848 tons. In Virginia the exports the same year, and foreign imports were of the value of $7,184,273; clearances and entries, 178,143 tons, (Table 14, Register of U.S. Treasury.) Revenue from customs, same year, in Pennsylvania, $2,552,924, and in Virginia, $189,816; or more than twelve to one in favor of Pennsylvania. (Tables U.S. Commissioner of Customs.) No returns are given for the coastwise and internal trade of either State; but the railway and canal transportation of both States shows a difference of ten to one in favor of Pennsylvania. And yet, Virginia, as we have seen, had much greater natural advantages than Pennsylvania for commerce, foreign and internal, her shore line up to head of tide-water being 1,571 miles, and Pennsylvania only 60 miles.
We have seen that, exclusive of commerce, the products of Pennsylvania in 1860 were of the value of $398,600,000, or $137 per capita; and in Virginia, $120,000,000, or $75 per capita. But, if we add the earnings of commerce, the products of Pennsylvania must have exceeded those of Virginia much more than four to one, and have reached, per capita, nearly three to one. What but slavery could have produced such amazing results? Indeed, when we see the same effects inallthe Free States as compared withallthe Slave States, and inanyof the Slave States, as compared withanyof the Free States, the uniformity of results establishes the law beyond all controversy, that slavery retards immensely the progress of wealth and population.
That the Tariff has produced none of these results, is shown by the fact that the agriculture and commerce of Pennsylvania vastly exceed those of Virginia, and yet these are the interests supposed to be most injuriously affected by high tariffs. But there is still more conclusive proof. The year 1824 was the commencement of the era of high tariffs, and yet, from 1790 to 1820, as proved by the Census, the percentage of increase of Pennsylvania over Virginia was greater than from 1820 to 1860. Thus, by Table 1 of the Census, p. 124, the increase of population in Virginia was as follows:
From1790to18007.63per cent."1800"181010.73""1810"18209.31""1820"183013.71""1830"18402.34""1840"185014.60""1850"186012.29"
The increase of population in Pennsylvania was: