It takes a clear, cool head, a large amount of brains, and unaltering nerve, to thread one's way through the intricacies of the business of finance as carried on there. It would be interesting to know how many come out of the ordeal untouched by the taint of corruption. Members of the Exchanges are held by a rigid code of laws, but in questions of morality Wall street has a code of its own. Expediency is a prominent consideration in the dealings of the street, and men have come to regard as honest and correct almost anything short of a regular breach of contract. They do not spare their own flesh and blood. Friendships are sacrificed, the ties of kinship are disregarded, if they stand in the way of some bold operation. Every thing must give way to the desire for gain. The great operators plunder and destroy their lesser rivals without a feeling of remorse, and by combinations which they know cannot be resisted blast the prospects and ruin the lives of scores whose greatest fault is an inability to oppose them successfully. Tricks so mean and contemptible that their perpetrator would not be tolerated in social life, are resorted to, and if successful are applauded as evidences of smartness. Every man's hand is against his neighbor. Clerks are bribed to betray the secrets of their employers. The baser their treachery, the larger their reward. We do not propose, however, to discuss the morality of Wall street transactions, and so we drop the subject. It is said by the gossips of the street that the great Railroad King, Commodore Vanderbilt, is not above using any means at hand to secure the success of his schemes. It is said that he once tried to use his son William in this way. He came to him one day, and advised him that he had better sell his Hudson River stock, as 110 was too high for it. William thanked him, and made inquiries in the market, and found that his father was buying quietly all he could lay his hands upon. William determined to follow suit. Up jumped the stock to 137. It was a clear twenty-six per cent. in pocket. When the operation was concluded, the Commodore rode round to the son's office. "Well, William, how much did you lose?" "I went in at 110 on 10,000 shares. That ought to make me two hundred and sixty thousand dollars--" "Very bad luck, William," quoth the father, trying to look extremely troubled,--"very bad luck, this time." "But then I bought, and so made." "Hey? What sent you doing that, sir?" "O, I heard that was your line, and so concluded that you meant long instead of short." "Ahem!" croaked Vanderbilt _pere_, as he buttoned up his fur overcoat, and stalked out of the open door. He has always had a high opinion of William since that event!