1880. But the kings of the wheat market said to Europe,
"Bow down before us, and starve."

Suddenly we in America were surprised to learn that flour in London was
two dollars cheaper a barrel than it was in New York. Our grain blockade
of the world was reacting upon us. Lying idle at the wharves of New York
and Brooklyn were 102 ships, 439 barques, 87 brigs, 178 schooners, and
47 steamers. Six or seven hundred of these vessels were waiting for
cargoes. The gates of our harbour were closed in the grip of the grain
gambler. The thrift of the speculator was the menace of our national
prosperity. The octopus of speculative ugliness was growing to its full
size, and threatened to smother us utterly. There was a "corner" on
everything.

We were busy trying to pick out our next President. There was great
agitation over the Republican candidates: Grant, Blaine, Cameron,
Conkling, Sherman. Greatness in a man is sometimes a hindrance to the
Presidency. Such was the case with Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, Thomas H.
Benton, and William C. Preston. We were only on the edge of the
whirlpool of a presidential election. In England the election storm was
just beginning. The first thunderbolt was the sudden dissolution of
Parliament by Lord Beaconsfield. The two mightiest men in England then
were antagonists, Disraeli and Gladstone.

What a magnificent body of men are those Members of Parliament. They
meet and go about without the ostentation of some of our men in
Congress. Men of great position in England are born to it; they are not
so afraid of losing it as our celebrated Republicans and Democrats. Even
the man who comes up into political power from the masses in England is
more likely to hold his position than if he had triumphed in American
politics.

In the spring and summer of 1880 I took a long and exhaustive trip
across our continent, and completely lost the common dread of emigration
that was then being talked about. There was room enough for fifty new
nations between Omaha and Cheyenne, room for more still between Cheyenne
and Ogden, from Salt Lake City to Sacramento.

An unpretentious youth, Carey by name, whom I had known in Philadelphia,
went West in '67. I found him in Cheyenne a leading citizen. He had
been District Attorney, then judge of one of the courts, owned a city
block, a cattle ranch, and was worth about $500,000. There wasn't room
enough for him in Philadelphia. Senator Hill of Colorado told me, while
in Den