ilmen's room of the New York City Hall,--say
the clock, the chandelier, or the chairman's throne. The people of
Cincinnati are so primitive in their ideas, that they would regard the
man who should steal the public money as a baser thief than he who
should merely pick a private pocket. They have actually carried "this
sort of thing" so far as to elect and re-elect as Mayor of the city
proper that honest, able, generous Republican, CHARLES F. WILSTACH, a
member of the great publishing house of Moore, Wilstach, and Baldwin,--a
gentleman who, though justly proud of the confidence of his
fellow-citizens, and enjoying the honor they have conferred upon him,
uses the entire power, influence, and income of his office in promoting
the higher welfare of the city. He is the great patron of the
Mechanics' Institute, which gave instruction last winter to two hundred
and fifty evening pupils in drawing, mathematics, and engineering, at
three dollars each for four months, besides affording them access to a
library and pleasant rooms. Charles Wilstach, in short, is what Mr.
Joseph Hoxie would call "a Peter Cooper sort of man." Imagine New York
electing Peter Cooper mayor! It was like going back to the primitive
ages,--to that remote period when Benjamin Franklin was printer and
public servant, and when Samuel Adams served the State,--to see the
Mayor of Cincinnati performing his full share of the labor of conducting
a business that employs a hundred and fifty persons, and yet punctual at
his office in the City Hall, and strictly attentive to its duties during
five of the best hours of the day.

There are seven mayors about Cincinnati for the reasons following. On
the southern bank of the Ohio, opposite the city, many large
manufactories have found convenient sites, and thus the city of
Covington has grown up, divided into two towns by the river Licking.
Then there are five clusters of villas in the suburbs of Cincinnati,
over the hill, each of which has deemed it best to organize itself into
a city, in order to keep itself select and exclusive, and to make its
own little laws and regulations. The mayors and aldermen of these minute
rural villages are business men of Cincinnati, who drive in to their
stores every morning, and home again in the evening. Thus you may meet
aldermen at every corner, and buy something in a store from a mayor, and
get his autograph at the end of a bill, without being aware of the honor
done you. No autograph