s and acquirements are too
great to suffer him to entertain jealousy; but were I his bitterest
enemy, such an opinion have I of his integrity of mind, that I would
refer any one to him for an honest account of me, sooner than to
almost any one else."

Soon after Knickerbocker came out, Irving went to Albany in the
fruitless pursuit of a minor court appointment. There he found his
name come not altogether pleasantly before him. "I have somehow or
another formed acquaintance with some of the good people," he wrote,
"and several of the little Yffrouws, and have even made my way and
intrenched myself strongly in the parlors of several genuine Dutch
families, who had declared utter hostility to me." One lady had said
that if she were a man she would horsewhip him; but an hour with
Irving, who had made a point of meeting her, left her resigned to be a
woman.

Irving had now scored his first great literary success. He had proved
himself master of a fluent humorous style which might have been
applied indefinitely to the treatment of similar themes. He was
twenty-seven years old, and there was no reason why the next ten years
should not be a most fruitful period. Unfortunately, during most of
that time life was made too easy for him. He knew now that he could
write, but he had no desire to write for a living. Probably he felt
that such a course would be in some way not quite suitable for a man
of fashion. At all events, ten years passed, and middle age was at
hand before the promising author began to fulfill his promise. Not
till 1819 appeared his next literary venture, conceived in a more
serious spirit, and launched with many misgivings as the first
performance of the professional man of letters.

He had by this time pretty much given up any notion he may have had of
living by the law. His attempts to gain civil appointments were not
successful. The brilliant younger brother must be provided for;
presently Peter and Ebenezer, who were proprietors of a fairly
prosperous hardware business, offered him a partnership, with nominal
duties and one fifth of the profits. His connection with the firm was
at first a sinecure. Later, and when the business had come to the
brink of failure, the burden fell upon him, and absorbed his whole
time and energies for nearly two years. His literary idling cannot be
said to have been due to this entanglement. In his view writing was
apparently little more than an agreeable indulgence which had