table employment, in which he
might engage, "to pay expenses." He will abandon a silver-mine, of slow,
but certain gains, for the gambling chances of a gold "placer;" and if
any one within his knowledge dig out more wealth than he, he will leave
the "diggings," though his success be quite encouraging, and go
quixoting among the islands of the sea, in search of pearls and
diamonds. With the prospect of improvement in his fortunes--whether that
prospect be founded upon reason, be a naked fancy, or the offspring of
mere discontent--he regards no danger, cares for no hardship, counts no
suffering. Everything must bend before the ruling passion, "to better
his condition."

His spirit is eminently encroaching. Rather than give up any of his own
"rights," he will take a part of what belongs to others. Whatever he
thinks necessary to his welfare, to that he believes himself entitled.
To whatever point he desires to reach, he takes the straightest course,
even though the way lie across the corner of his neighbor's field. Yet
he is intensely jealous of his own possessions, and warns off all
trespassers with an imperial menace of "the utmost penalty of the law."
He has, of course, an excellent opinion of himself--and justly: for when
not blinded by cupidity or vexed by opposition, no man can hold the
scales of justice with a more even hand.

He is seldom conscious of having done a wrong: for he rarely moves until
he has ascertained "both the propriety and expediency of the motion." He
has, therefore, an instinctive aversion to all retractions and
apologies. He has such a proclivity to the forward movement, that its
opposite, even when truth and justice demand it, is stigmatized, in his
vocabulary, by odious and ridiculous comparisons. He is very stubborn,
and, it is feared, sometimes mistakes his obstinacy for firmness. He
thinks a safe retreat worse than a defeat with slaughter. Yet he never
rests under a reverse, and, though manifestly prostrate, will never
acknowledge that he is beaten. A check enrages him more than a decided
failure: for so long as his end is not accomplished, nor defeated, he
can see no reason why he should not succeed. If his forces are driven
back, shattered and destroyed, he is not cast down, but angry--he
forthwith swears vengeance and another trial. He is quite insatiable--as
a failure does not dampen him, success can never satisfy him. His plans
are always on a great scale; and, if they sometimes excee