transacted business with a
stately and aristocratic air,--reminding us of Florence and Venice, and
the quaint old cities of Ghent and Bruges. The heads of the house have
often changed. One family passed into oblivion. Another, when nature
gave the signal, bequeathed his interests and powers to his heirs, who
now reign in his stead. But, however rapid, or however complete the
revolutions may have been, no sensible interruption occurred in the
continued flow of business. The principles of management have apparently
been the same through the whole period. Yet, as times changed, as one
market closed and another opened, as new lands were discovered, trading
stations established and grew into towns, as the Aborigines left the
graves of their fathers, and retired before the advance of
_civilisation_, and as India became English in its tastes and desires,
so did the business and resources of the old house expand, and its
machinery of management change. Once in a quarter of a century, a group
of sedate looking gentlemen meet in the mysterious back-parlour; a few
words are spoken, a few strokes of the pen are made, a few formal
directions are given to the heads of departments, a new book is
permitted, an addition to the staff is confirmed, and the power of the
house is rendered equal to the transaction of business in any quarter of
the world, and to any amount. Now, look at this great house of business
from the desk. Study the machinery. A young man, perhaps the eldest son
of a senior clerk, enters the house, and takes his seat at a particular
desk: and there he remains until superannuation or death leaves a
vacancy, when he changes his place, from this desk to that, and so on,
until old age or death creeps upon him in turn. He is chained daily to
the desk's dull wood, and makes entry after entry in the same columns of
the same book. This is his duty. He may be unsteady, irregular, inapt,
or incorrect, and his being so may occasion his brethren some trouble,
and draw down upon himself a rebuke from a higher quarter; but the
machinery goes on steadily notwithstanding. Each clerk, or each desk,
has its apportioned duty, which continued repetition has rendered
habitual and mechanical. In the head's of departments, a greater degree
of intellect may appear necessary. It is hardly the fact, however. For
the head of the department has passed through every grade--he has
laboured for years at each desk, and knows intuitively, as it were, t