recognized power throughout the land. I refer to Edwin Croswell, the cultured editor of the Albany Argus. He was born at Catskill, I believe, and was the son of a clergyman. He was a practical printer, if I am not mistaken, and had a fine English education. He was rather small in stature, about the size of Mr. Seward, whom I last described, and had a dark, swarthy complexion and black curly hair. He stooped slightly, as is the habit of many of the craft-possibly on account of the great number of things stowed away in the upper story. As a writer, he was not free and outspoken, but expressed himself cautiously. He was a close thinker, and weighed all his utterances with the utmost care. He was everywhere recognized as a strong man, standing among the leading writers in the country on political, or perhaps I should say, party questions. He was an intense partisan; in fact, most political editors in his day were bigoted partisans. They looked upon those who differed with them very much as an orthodox Christian looks upon a so-called infidel—as a person who has no right to live. A republican-and in Mr. Croswell's time the party with which he acted was oftener called republican than democratic-in the estimation of every member of the party, was a better citizen and a truer man for belonging to that organization; and his opponents had the contrary impression. They consid ered every republican necessarily a rascal, insisting that he was a man who could not be safely trusted. Mr. Croswell was a gentleman in his tastes and instincts, and did not apply epithets to those differing with him. He always maintained his dignity, and exhibited the weak Ipoints of his adversary to the public gaze in room of calling him hard names. He was a graceful writer, and yet his articles did not lack force or strength. He was a clean man in private life, decorous in speech; he did not "slop over;" he never said unwise things. It was

through the judicious counsel of Mr. Croswell and the men with whom he acted and for whom he was in the habit of speaking that the republican party maintained its ascendancy in this state for a period of twenty years or more previous to 1838. Mr. Croswell, I judge, might have written a good essay on almost any subject, for he was a man of extensive information and fine literary culture, but I am not aware that he ever did anything in that line. He was simply a party editor. His productions all went into the Argus. The efforts of his life were devoted to the upbuilding of his party. He accumulated a handsome property out of the state paper, but lost it in speculation, and, I believe, died poor.

Mr. Croswell had rare conversational powers. It was a treat to listen to him. He spoke somewhat deliberately, but with remarkable clearness. He made you see things as he saw them. He spent an evening in my room at the old City hotel in Albany many years. since, and, among other things, described the cholera epidemic of 1832 with such vividness that I can yet see the solemn stillness that prevailed in the streets, the deep concern written on every countenance, and the general gloom that settled down upon every place of business. While a majority of the victims of the terrible disease were persons of irregular and dissipated habits, a great many of those moving in the best society were stricken down and consigned to the grave before it was generally known that they were ill. "I called at the house of a friend one evening," said Mr. Croswell, "and passed a delightful hour with his family, the members of which were apparently in excellent health. The next morning I was appalled to hear that one of the daughters, a young lady of eighteen, was dead. Deacon Dutcher went to the market, shortly after sunrise, in perfect health. At three o'clock in the afternoon his remains were conveyed

to their last resting place. He died after an illness of eight hours.'

These and similar occurrences Mr. Croswell portrayed with awful distinctness. There were fourteen deaths in one day-a large number for a population of 25,000-and the same number of funeral processions, for persons dying of cholera were interred as soon as they ceased to breathe, and these mournful exhibitions were calculated to fill the stoutest hearts with anxiety and alarm. No one could say whose turn would come next. No doubt many persons fell victims to the scourge through fear, and it is not unlikely there were some premature burials. These facts were related in a simple and graphic manner, and left an impression that time does not efface.

The epidemic of 1832 was wholly different from the disease under the same name with which this country has been visited at later periods. There was considerable cholera in certain localities in 1849 and 1854, but it did not do its work so quickly, nor was it so generally fatal as on its first appearance. In 1832 it appeared in Utica one Sunday morning; before night there were several deaths. It stole into Rochester during the night; the next day there were a dozen cases, two of which terminated fatally in a few hours; and new cases were constantly being reported. Three friends in Salina-at that date a more populous place than Syracuse-declared that they had no fear of cholera, and declined to change their habits of living. On coming into the street in the morning, one of the party was informed that a comrade of the trio was dead; and before night himself and the other had fallen victims to the disease. There has never been anything like it in this country during my remem

brance.

Its worst ravages were in low and malarial regions, and where people were not careful to keep their premises sweet and clean. It was at home in filth and nastiness.

To guard against it, therefore, persons have but to clean up. We must cleanse and purify our great cities and small ones, and see to it that the people are supplied with the purest drinking water. It may come any year, if we invite it by criminal indifference as to the sanitary condition of our towns and cities. It will come as a penalty of our disregard of the laws of health, if it comes at all. It will come because we are content to breathe an atmosphere tainted by sickening odors, that is laden with pestilence, and because we drink unwholesome water and villainous beverages. It will come, if come it does, because it should come, because it is needed to teach us to be cleanly and decent.

CHAPTER V.

Legislative Corruption Not a New Thing-A Reminiscence of the State Senate of 1836-The Panic of 1837-The Political Effect.

There has probably never been a time when a majority of mankind did not consider that the people were more corrupt and wicked in the age in which they lived than in any previous one. We are prone to regard the politicians of today as more base and unprincipled than they were half a century ago, while the men who founded our government fifty years earlier are looked upon almost as saints. This impression may be correct, but if the truth could be ascertained, I suspect it would be found to be an entire misconception. I believe men are growing better, not worse.

As evidence that there has been crookedness, nay, downright corruption, in our legislature before today, let me refer to what took place in the New York senate in the spring of 1836. Two members of that body, John C. Kemble, of Rensselaer county, and Isaac W. Bishop, of Washington, were formally charged with using their positions in the senate for pecuniary gain in stock speculations. The substance of the charge was, that when the bill to extend the time for completing the New York & Harlem railroad was under consideration in the senate, Kemble and Bishop made an agreement with one Bartow to delay the passage of said bill, and afterward to vote for the same, so as to enable said Bartow and others to make money by the purchase and sale of the stock; that said senators corruptly used their endeavors to delay, and did delay the passage of the bill accordingly, and afterward voted for it.