belongs to him where no resting-place is
found for his weary feet, whose home is an inn, whose friends are the
fellow-travellers with whom he has journeyed? The ties of country, like
those of kindred, are superstitions,--high and holy ones sometimes, but
still superstitions. Believe in them if you can, and so much the better
for you; but in some hour the conviction will come that man is of every
land.

Thus pondering, I trudged along at a smart pace, my bundle on a stick
over my shoulder, never noticing the road, and only following the way
because it seemed to lead out of the city. It was a gorgeous morning;
the sun glittered on the bright roofs, and lit up the gay terraces of
the houses, where creepers of every tint and foliage were tastefully
entwined and festooned, as these people knew so well to dispose.
Servants were opening windows, displaying handsomely-furnished rooms,
replete with every luxury, as I passed; busy housemaids were brushing,
and sweeping, and polishing; and shining niggers were beating carpets
and shaking hearthrugs, while others were raking the gravel before the
doors, or watering the rich magnolias and cactuses that stood sentinel
beneath the windows. Carriages, too, were washing, and high-bred horses
standing out to be groomed,--all signs of wealth and of the luxuries of
the rich men, whose close-drawn curtains portended sleep. "Ay," thought
I, "there are hundreds here, whose weightiest evil would be that they
awoke an hour earlier than their wont; that their favorite Arab had
stood on a sharp stone; that some rude branch had scratched the rich
varnish on their chariot: while I wander along, alone and friendless, my
worldly substance a few dollars." This disparity of condition of course
occurs to the mind of every poor man; but it only is a canker to him who
has had a glimpse, be it ever so fleeting, of a life of luxury and ease.
For this reason, the servant-class will always be a great source of
danger to our present social condition; seeing the weakness, the folly,
and sometimes the worse than folly of those they serve, viewing, from
a near point, the interior lives of those who, seen from afar, are
reckoned great and illustrious,--they lose the prestige of respect
for the distinguishing qualities of station, and only yield it to
the outward symbols,--the wealth and riches. What Socialists are our
butlers; what Democrats our footmen; what Red Republicans are our cooks;
what a Leveller is the g