It is the curse of English commerce, of English banking, and of English trading generally, that, while large fortunes are made by the principals, the clerks are often remunerated at a rate inferior to that which the merchant pays his favorite domestic. The small number necessary to produce a great income takes away all excuse for this penury; and as four or five are frequently sufficient to produce annual thousands, it is to be regretted that, while the principal seeks the most luxurious abode which wealth can produce, the clerk goes to some cheap suburban home, in which, with his family, he can scarcely unite respectability with life. In corporations and in public offices this is peculiarly hard. The additional salary would not be felt, and there is a responsibility on the clerks which demands that their payment should be proportioned to it. It is an honor to them that, with the lax notions entertained of corporate and national property, the frauds should be so rare; but it is a dishonor to commercial nature, that, considering the profits made by merchants, the daily intercourse they hold with their clerks, and the trust they are compelled to place in them, they pay in so small, and work in so great a degree. It is a most suggestive fact, that, where the functionaries are remunerated the worst, the frauds are most numerous. But there is another evil felt by the stipendiary. His personal treatment is not in accordance with his claims as an educated man. The coldest look and the haughtiest answer are reserved for him. The smallest amount of intercourse necessary to business is awarded him. The common courtesies of life are denied him. The merchant too often enters his counting-house without recognition, and leaves it without an adieu. In similar establishments abroad, the clerks are treated with care and kindness. They are not made hourly to feel the great gulf between them and their wealthy superiors. They visit the homes of the latter; they are confidentially consulted; they are allowed time to think; they are treated as men, not as animals. And thus it was in England in the olden time. The merchant of that school invited his clerk to his home, took an interest in his affairs, and recognized him as a friend. They worked the fortunes of the house together, and, if the merchant was repaid by his clerk’s fidelity, the latter was often admitted into the firm he had served. This is not so now. But the master is the greatest loser; for there is no service so fruitful as that which arises from kindness, or so grateful as that which has its root in affectionate respect.