It is not my intention to make public, in any detail, what I know of the means by which His Excellency got young Oliver out of his New Year's scrape in New York. In recording my conversations with Cornelia and her family, I have been animated throughout by a desire to increase popular respect for the members of our upper class as the suitable persons to give tone to the democracy; and this particular incident happens not to be altogether creditable to the ethical sense of His Excellency—if one uses as a criterion the ethical austerity of Jeanie Deans or George Washington of blessed memory. I am not sure that almost any other man in the same circumstances—even a member of our very moral middle-class—would not have strained a point to keep his own son from public punishment and disgrace. I mean only that we all talk about "equality before the law," until we find ourselves in personal need of special privileges; and that when His Excellency's withers were wrung, he took it as a matter of course that he should use his money and his persuasive tongue,
