The stock broker is not necessarily a rich man. He must, of course, have a seat in the board, which costs about twenty thousand dollars. But other than that he requires little more than an office, and an indicator, or "ticker." He takes the stock which he buys for you to his bank, and borrows the money which he pays for it. But they do not long remain poor if they have a fair patronage, for their commissions are enormous, double their old price, and they have no risks whatever. They rarely deal in stocks themselves, and they are careful to have plenty of "margin" for their own protection.

Of the broker I am bound to say that I believe him honest, and not void of all conscience. Besides, I found him, as a rule, a well read, well traveled gentleman. They chronicle fewer commercial failures by far than do the merchants of the great city of New York, and they rarely figure in the courts.

I

But to return to my subject. Finding but little interest in this great maelstrom of excitement without taking part, I, under the advice of my broker, bought a little Wabash. bought Wabash because it was the first stock on the list which I could distinguish from the mass of two hundred names. And I came to remember it because I had been born on its banks, as it were. Indeed, on the very banks of the Wabash River I have seen my father furrow the field for corn in the spring, while my mother followed after, dropping the corn in the furrow; while three little boys toddled after, myself of the number, and covered the grain that lay in the little squares of the mellow earth. And so it was with a touch of tenderness that I bought Wabash, and became one of the eager party holding on to the tapewatching, waiting the turn of fortune's wheel.

She did not betray me. My stock began to move upward from the first. It was not so dull now. How interesting it all was! I called the click of the "ticker" the pulse and heart-beat of the nation. If the land was healthy and prosperous, the pulse beat high and buoyant. If the land was threatened with drought, short crops, or misfortune of any kind, the pulse was low, feverish, and dull. It was like a poem.

I had now an interest in the prosperity of the land beyond a sentiment. I was a part owner in the one hundred thousand miles of railways in America. From that day forth I studied the geography of my country as never before. My little up-town room in the fourth story was lined with maps of American railways. In less than a week I could quote the opening or closing prices of half the stock on the list.

How patiently I held on to the tape along with the other timid and hopeful little lambs! We would exchange opinions, encourage each other, and lay great plans for the future. We became very confidential, our little knot around that "ticker;" and when one of our set lost money he had our honest sympathy. They were pleasant days, these first, for stocks went up steadily, and it seemed at last, when and where I had least expected it, I was to make a fortune without either care or toil. I am perfectly certain that in those few weeks I grew to be a better man.

At last I closed out. I had in my hand more than ten thousand dollars. I had not invested so many hundred. What scribe had ever been so fortunate! Stocks still advanced. It seemed as if they would never stop going up.

I sat down and tried for days to decide what to do. Coolly, deliberately, and after as much and as mature thought as I am capable of, I went back to Wall Street with my money. I had no use for ten thousand dollars. I had great use for fifty thousand. I hug myself in satisfaction now, to remember that I thought not so much of myself as of my friends at this time. I could get on with that sum well. But away out on the great gold shore of the vast west sea I wanted to build a home-a city. I would gather about me the dear spirits of old. In some sweet spot where there were woods and cool waters, a warm sun and prolific soil, we would meet and build a city-a city of refuge-where every Bohemian might come and have a home, rest, peace, plenty, so long as he or she should live or care to stay. I even drew up a plan of my city, and framed a few brief laws for its government. I named it Utopia.

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On returning to Wall Street, I chose three different brokers-one a "bull" house, one a "bear" house, and one a conservative" house. By this I hoped to get all sorts of opinions. I got them.

With my "bears," I sold St. Paul short. There was talk of rust, grasshoppers, rains, floods. St. Paul would tumble to the center. It had already advanced from eighteen to sixty-nine. I sold at sixty-nine, seventy, and seventy-one.

With the "bulls," I bought Pacific Mail. No danger of grasshoppers on Pacific Mail. No drought, no floods or rust! Pacific Mail had fallen from sixty-two, and would surely go back up to eighty. I bought Pacific Mail and sat down to wait for it to go up and St. Paul to go down.

Things began to move my way. I began to work vigorously on the plans for my city. I had arranged to bring my dear old parents

away from the Far West wilds of Oregon, where they had dwelt for a quarter of a century. They had never seen the great city. Now they should see it, hear the mighty preachers, and sail on the Atlantic.

How life widened out! I had an interest now in every ship that sailed. The flow of money to or from the land was to me of vital concern. All commerce was as rich with interest to me now as the poetry of Homer. At ten o'clock sharp I found myself holding on to the tape, waiting to see if I had grown richer or poorer through the night. All day, till the hammer fell, I stood with my finger on the pulse of

commerce.

I ought sooner to have mentioned that, from the first day there, I found that the stock dealers did not so much inquire after the weather, the probable ill or good fortune of ships, the growth or failure of crops, floods or fires, as after the movements of one certain man-a small, dark, silent man; modest, unobtrusive, even a timid, and shy man, to all appearance; yet a man who held their whole world in his single right hand.

"Gould is selling!" The street trembled, and stocks fell two, three, four points in an hour. "Gould is buying!" The street started up, and stocks rose accordingly. Every rumor, good or bad, came coupled with the name of Jay Gould, and he was held responsible for all that was done; while, in truth and in fact, this man, nine cases out of ten, neither knew nor cared how the market was going.

Never was a man so bitterly abused. I seek in vain for the mention of one word of praise, or even respect, for Jay Gould during my half year in Wall Street. Perhaps I am too much given to shouting for the bottom dog in the fight; but this persistent and bitter abuse begot in me an interest in this singular and silent little man, and I began to study his life, and look into his mighty enterprises. I found them so vast, so grand, so far reaching and splendid as to be almost incomprehensible. Certainly no Napoleon ever had half such a brain. And yet, for all this, I never heard a word of admiration. Every man in Wall Street seemed to be so bound up in his own petty losses or gains that Gould was looked upon as a kind of thermometer that marked the rise and fall of stocks. An inspired fiend," is the highest praise I heard for him. Day after day you could constantly hear such expressions as these: "Some one will shoot that - before he is a year older," "Well, he will never live to enjoy it," "Let him look out what he is about," "They fixed Fisk, and he was a stronger man than Gould;" yet very tranquilly the dark little Napoleon passed

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on through it all, as if utterly unconscious of these mutterings, and utterly careless of what men thought or did. Of course such coolness and courage as this appeals to a man from the Pacific, and my interest in this man constantly increased.

I may mention here that I did not find the average stock speculator much of a man. Quite unlike the grand old California gamblers of our first days, I found them a sober, cold-blooded, calculating lot. And here let me call attention to the gulf that lies between the stock speculator and the legitimate railroad man. Let the line between them be not forgotten. The one is to be shunned, dreaded, despised. The other is to be respected, admired, sympathized with. The one, with a force of a quarter of a million strong men, lives in luxury and gives to the world not so much as one grain of wheat.

This quarter of a million brokers and professional stock speculators live on the fat of the land; and yet, all together, they never give to the world so much as one lucifer match. They are camp-followers who plunder the dead.

But the great builders of railways are quite another quality of men. Although railroad builders are often, much too often, speculators also.

Gould is preeminently a builder. He is not a man who tears down. If ever his hand touches a railroad, it seems to start at once into life, although it may have lain rusting and rotting in its grave for years. If ever there was a man inspired for any special work, in these later days, Jay Gould seems to be that man. You may study the map of Europe and comprehend the sudden movements and colossal combinations of the First Napoleon, if it be possible. Then turn to America, and see what this man has done and is doing here, and you will find that his achievements far outreach those of the great Emperor.

When I first traveled through Europe, I found I had to have a passport for almost every one of the thirty petty states. This was expensive and troublesome. But now Bismarck and the Emperor have tied all these together, and the world calls them great.

A few years ago the railways of the West lay in broken bits and fragments; one at war with the other, cutting each other's throats, and maintaining standing armies of presidents and officers on enormous salaries, all of which the farmer had to pay for.

Jay Gould reached out his hand, remodeled all, consolidated all, swept the standing army out of existence, and gave the farmer a road that took his produce to market for less than half the former cost

Bismarck, with a million men, tied Germany together, and the world applauded, although he did deplete the treasury and double the taxes. Here a single man, assaulted on all sides by the abuse of enemies and feeble detractors, without a dollar, except as he could make it out of his scheming brain, has united and bound together railways, and established systems which are ten-fold more important, every one of them, than the unification of the German States; and, instead of doubling the taxes, he has doubled, trebled, quadrupled the taxable property of the countries wherein he has wrought. He has given employment to perhaps a million of men. in building and maintaining and reconstructing these railways; and, what is most important of all, so reduced tariffs that the farmer can now ship his grain at a rate that must soon make him a wealthy man.

Take, for example, what is now called the Wabash system. A little time ago the stock was selling at half a cent on the hundred. The old iron rails were rusting away, and the whole concern was bankrupt. Now, steel rails, thousands of additional cars, and like new equip. ments generally, blossom all along the two thousand miles now consolidated and merged in one corporation. And, with this new life, new towns are going up all along the lines. Truly it may be said of this man that he has built as many cities as some men we call great have destroyed.

I have mentioned the Wabash system only because it is the most familiar to me, and hence I know that, under the presidency of Solid Solon Humphreys, it must continue to flourish like a bay. Just as much might safely be said of railways away down in Texas, out on the plains, and even in the Mexicos, that have been built or called back into life by this little king of American enterprise.

But perhaps I ought to draw the line here. I do not know Mr. Gould, and he very likely may take umbrage at what I have said; but I should think that one who has borne so much abuse ought to be able to bear this much well earned praise from one who admires pluck and achievement, and dares applaud.

And now, right here I want the reader to stick a pin, and ponder well this one idea: Great-brained men are to be born to us here in America. What shall they do? Hew each other to pieces, as in Europe? Nay. I trust we have grown beyond the age of barbarism.

What shall we do with our Napoleons? I should say, recognize them when they come. I should say, in the first place, let us get rid of that brutal idea which we have inherited from Europe, that it is a nobler thing to burn a city than to build a city.

I should say that, instead of bowing down before an effete nobility of Europe, and repeating their comings and goings in our present day, we should give some solid recognition to the great world-builders in our midst.

I should say that, instead of fawning upon our own few Generals who made their little reputations by tearing down, we ought rather to forget them, and remember those who build up.

And if the prophesied day of universal peace is to come, it will come in this way. When a great-brained and ambitious man springs up among us, he will do, or undertake to do, that which is deemed greatest. And if the public heart is so coarse and uncultured as to still cherish the old idea that it is greater to destroy than to create, then he will destroy. Let greatness be measured by the solid good a man does to the world. He may be selfish in his work; he may be utterly so. Man is by nature that way. That does not make the substantial benefits less.

Measured by this standard, which I feel is the right one, I should say that this man, Jay Gould, is not only the most colossal figure in America, but in all the world.

It is a grand thing to fight for one's country. But it is a grander thing to make one's country worth fighting for.

This is the idea I should like to impress upon every young heart. It is such an easy thing to be a butcher. But it takes time, and kindness, and skill, and refinement to raise the flock for his shambles.

Our new Napoleons are to imitate this one. They are to understand that he who strikes one blow toward building roads that tap the flow of golden grain to Europe contributes something toward enriching his own land, and also toward feeding the hungry of the old world.

Of course, I know nothing of the inner life of my hero. I do not desire to know of it. The perpetual abuse of enemies has made him singularly alone and exclusive. Yet I am told that his home-life is most perfect and sweet, and that his sons are growing up to be men of great taste and culture. One thing we do know, however--that to the suffering South, Kansas, and other places, he has, in the most unobtrusive way, sent more solid help than any one man besides in the world. Fancy any old world Napoleon heading a subscription list!

To have learned what I have of the magnitude and importance of this new Napoleon's work, knitting the lakes to the gulf, the Atlantic to the Pacific, the North to the South, in a network of steel that nothing can ever break--this was worth my half year in Wall Street.

Wall Street? How did I come out? Oh! Well, I was short of St. Paul and long of Pacific Mail. I expected Pacific Mail to go up and St. Paul to go down. They did, and I had twenty-one thousand dollars. But that was not enough to build a city with. I held on. One day it was rumored that the rust was not so bad in St. Paul after all. It began to start up! Pacific Mail began to shoot down. It was said the Chinese had established an opposition line. I tell you it takes a big man to sit on two benches at a time. Ten to one he will spill himself between the two just as sure as he attempts it.

I sold some St. Paul and bought more Pacific Mail; but all to no purpose. They kept right on. Then I got out of Pacific Mail at the lowest figure it touched, and bought Wabash. I began to flounder, and got frightened. I sold and bought, and bought and sold. I frequently saw in the papers that I was getting rich in Wall Street, and kept on working like a beaver. The end was only a question of time.

One day my broker took me by the sleeve, and led me like a lamb as I was aside. My fun was over. And Utopia is indeed Utopia.

No one with so little money ever entered Wall Street under better advantages. All men were kind and good. I think no man there ever attempted to mislead me. But it is simply impossible to make money there, and keep it. Let me mention here that during my six months there I paid my brokers in commissions eleven thousand four hundred and twenty-five dollars! These commissions alone will devour any possible profits.

Of course, it is not a pleasant thing to admit oneself beaten. But if this brief history of my venture in this dangerous land will diminish at all that tired and anxious army of tape-holders who waste their shekels, their days, and their strength in vain waiting—why, I willingly bear the reproach.

And, after all, I lost but little, having but little to lose. And I learned so much, having so much to learn. JOAQUIN MILLER.

provinces, the duties of the Chinese Board of War, in comparison with those of similar ministries in foreign countries, are much circumscribed.

China, like other countries, has its War office, but the care and vigilance of this department is exercised, not only on behalf of the land forces, but, in addition, it has the control of naval affairs. Its duties are multifarious. The charge of the grain transport, the security of river embankments, the overlooking of the mandarins in charge of the nomads and halfsubdued savages in Formosa and Hainan. The surveillance of the keepers of the studs of camels and horses are all supposed to be within its cognizance. Even the courier and postal service comes under its jurisdiction. The Board has four bureaus attached to it, each bureau having special duties. The control of the bannermen being vested in special hands, and the overlooking of clothing, equipment, and purchase of munitions of war for the regular troops,

And now a word concerning the bannermen. In the year 1643, when the present Manchu dynasty conquered China, a force of soldiers was established, consisting entirely of Manchus and Mongols. These troops were arranged under eight banners, pahki. These banners were further subdivided into two wings or divisions, the first, third, fifth, and seventh banners constituting the right wing; the remainder the left wing. Each banner is distinguished by a triangular flag of yellow, white, red, and blue for the troops of the left wing; and the same colors, with a border of green, purple, orange, and lilac for the troops of the right wing. Two especial forces are selected from the banner corps, one called the Tsienfung, or vanguard; the other, called the Hu-kiun ying, or flank division. These men serve as a guard to the Emperor's palace, within the forbidden city, and as escort when he goes out. They number in all twenty thousand men. trol of the capital is also intrusted to the Manchu guard, and the defense of the city

The pa