"The friends of whom you inquire—Mr. Green, Miss Green, and Miss H.—are well and pursuing happiness ardently in their customary modes: each one pursuing his favorite phantom, the poet hath it, but I will not apply to them the association that rises in my memory. There are objects in life which are not phantoms—tho' little pursued, and not by many. I am tempted to seek for myself the gracious welcome that awaits the bearer of good-tidings by telling you that Miss. H. intends to leave here on a Southern tour in the latter part of Dec., and has some thoughts, even hopes, of persuading her father to prolong the excursion to Tampico. But do not flatter yourself too much. Wind and weather are not less uncertain on the Gulf than elsewhere, and even the steady purpose and persuasive power that characterize our friend may not prevail against every mischance.
"The change in the nat. adn. was as sudden and remarkable as you regard it. The policy of the gov. was a little modified by it, but on the whole it was most striking as illustrating how quietly our political machine works, even while the hands that seem—and seem only—to guide it are shifted. I do not share, to any considerable extent, the apprehensions entertained or professed by many as to a dissolution of our federative union. I would not needlessly put its bonds to the test. But I think they would prove stronger than is generally supposed; that danger would bring upon the theatre of public affairs a higher class of men than the holiday patriots who figure there in a season of peace—men who would represent the actual sentiments of the masses of our citizens, the serious, earnest purposes, now applied to private objects, that would be turned to the preservation of the Union as an important, practical means to great public ends. The idea of American nationality—progress and destiny—is the master-thought in the minds of our people, and creates a tendency to unity in the govt. quite strong enough. I have, too, a feeling—for it may be that, rather than a conclusion of reason—on this subject, which some may call superstitious. I believe that the gradual amelioration and culture of our race is in the inevitable order of Providence. I see elements which have been and are preparing our country to act a grander part than any has hitherto done in this great plan. That part is to be wrought out, not by an indolent repose on what our ancestors have ordained for us, but by trials and sacrifices and earnest efforts to solve the great social and civil questions which necessarily arise in the experiences of a nation. It seems to me—but here I may read the sacred oracles not aright—that the Union is an essential condition to the destiny we appear appointed to fulfil; and I believe it firm enough and strong enough to endure the conflict of social and political forces which is going on within its bosom. It will survive them all, working out what it can, and as far as it can, and casting off to a future period what it cannot now entirely work out.
"I resume my letter which has been in my portfolio unfinished for more than a week. A current of affairs suddenly struck me, and swept me on so incessantly that I have not before been able to return to it. You must not infer, however, that I affect any special industry, or that I am ordinarily so busy. My life has vibrated between a leisure in which I amused myself with books, and the greatest activity in pubic and private affairs; and, if the last few months have been as engrossingly occupied as any part of it with professional and personal business, I do not expect or desire it to be generally so hereafter. What has most exacted attention was temporary and occasional, and has, as yet, produced, and may produce nothing to me or to others, though lest such a confession excite too much pity for me I will add that in the mean time what has cost me comparatively little trouble has been sufficiently fruitful. My disposition is not to permit merely private business to engross me, nor to be in any of an unprofessional nature which creates anxiety. I have never been accustomed to surrender to it my inner life, or to allow its cares to fill those little interstices between actual occupation which are instinctively given to, and which characterize our ruling habits of thought and feeling. There no doubt is danger, as the relations of business multiply around us and our enthusiasm for public objects is qualified or weakened and our sympathies often come back upon us as the chilled blood returns from the extremities to the heart, that what furnishes occupation to our activity without the trouble of seeking it and without making us inquire whether we choose it, will grow too much upon our attention. But I desire to reserve something to better purpose—something to friends and to myself, and possibly, if hereafter I can recall the enthusiasm of early years, with a share of its former strength and steadiness, something to consecrate life by a sense that it has not been wholly given to objects so selfishly egotistical as are most of those which we pursue. It is time for me to stop; for I am moralizing, when I began merely to exclude a possible inference that I have not leisure to care for the wishes and interests of my friends, and to assure you that I am always happier if I can serve them, and glad to talk with them, as I now do, even if it be at such a frightful distance as, in this age of ocean steamers, railways, and telegraphs, to put a quarter of a year between question and answer.
"I wrote you a very long letter—I tremble to think I ever addressed such a missive to a lady—all full of finances and figures, on about the first of October. I mention it lest it may have miscarried. I should regret if you have failed to get the answer it attempted to your inquiries. I have hoped, and do hope, to hear from you in respect to it and its subject, if I can at all aid you. As a whole, it was not intended to be answered—as somebody said of his own speech—but I do look for a reply; I hope it may be an early and favorable reply—to some parts of it—as, for instance, that you are rapidly maturing your plan of changing your residence to this country, and that, at all events, you are coming over here next spring. If you should say that, you may take your own time for the statistics of the money-market and of money-making. Waiting patiently as I can for such an answer, and begging you to present my best respects to Mr. Chase, I remain,
"Very truly, your friend,
"S. J. Tilden."
COPY OF DRAFT-LETTER, FULL OF "FINANCE AND FIGURES," REFERRED TO IN THE PRECEDING LETTER
"There are, of course, the U. S. sixes, if you are content with so low a rate of interest. The New York stocks are about the same. There are others which are lower. If put to the choice myself, I should prefer bonds secured by mortgages on real estate, or, as we familiarly call them, b. and m. at 7 p. c., which, with care, can be had, even in the present plethora of money. There are also many varieties of bonds of private companies paying 6 or 7 p. c.; but, as a general rule, I should decidedly prefer bonds and mortgages on real estate.
"There are also stocks of private companies. Many of the banks are earning 7, 8, 10, or even more per cent. But these stocks are at considerable premiums, and have risen much recently. They cannot be always continuing on the ascending series. When a commercial depression shall occur these bonds will feel it more promptly and more deeply than that of most corporations; their dividends will be reduced, the premiums (which are equivalents for future, unearned, dividends) will fall off; and you may lose more by this decline than you have realized in the excess of the dividends over a fair interest. The same remark is applicable to the few railways which pay very large dividends, although they are not so sensitive to the fluctuations of commerce as the banks—in this as in the other case. The Delaware & Hudson Canal Company—whose business is to produce and bring to market anthracite coal—has declared about 16 per cent. for the last four or five years. The premium on its stock is now 50 p. c. That is lower than it has been, because of special circumstances, while I think that the next year's business will be better. The dividend is over 10 p. c. on premium and all. I would rather risk the continuance of its high premium than in any other case of a railroad. I may say, any other similar case. There is a similar company which has just come into operation—a very solid concern—which we think will be at least as good; its stock at a premium of 15 p. c. It is not so well known or so promptly marketable, and its stock is in a rather complex form, which it is expected to simplify next winter. It would be idle to say that I have not great confidence in it, since I have transferred what I had in the other to it, and have put in it more than the sum you mention in your letter; but I should not like to have another person invest in it or any similar thing merely on my judgment; and, to do so on his own, he ought to have more detailed knowledge than could be communicated in this hasty letter. The claim is that its stock will not advance much for the next 3 months—perhaps not for the next 6 or 8 months.
"There are also classes of ins., to some of which I have great objection, but it would be futile now to discuss their merit.
"With respect to investments in private companies generally, I have some observations to make. A very large proportion of one's means should not be concentrated in one institution, especially without the most thorough familiarity with its affairs. A wise selection between them requires at any time special knowledge and individual judgment; and more so now than usually. The abundance of capital and low rates of interest causes high premiums to be given for the most productive stocks as well as the most so that it is scarcely possible to get them at prices [half a page is here utterly undecipherable] unless in special cases where the enterprise is comparatively new and unknown, or its real merits are not fully appreciated by the public, in which cases you rely upon what you suppose to be superior information or judgment.