The venerable Brahmin here concluded his narrative, and we both remained thoughtful and silent for some time; he, apparently absorbed in the recollections of his eventful life; and I, partly in the reflections awakened by his story, and partly in the intense interest of revisiting my native earth, and beholding once more all who were dear to me.  Already the extended map beneath us was assuming a distinct and varied appearance; and the Brahmin, having applied his eye to the telescope, and made a brief calculation of our progress, considered that twenty-four hours more, if no accident interrupted us, would end our voyage; part of which interval I passed in making notes in my journal, and in contemplating the different sections of our many-peopled globe, as they presented themselves successively to the eye.  It was my wish to land on the American continent, and, if possible, in the United States.  But the Brahmin put an end to that hope, by reminding me that we should be attracted towards the Equator, and that we had to choose between Asia, Africa, and South America; and that our only course would be, to check the progress of our car over the country of greatest extent, through which the equinoctial circle might pass.  Saying which, he relapsed into his melancholy silence, and I betook myself once more to the telescope.  With a bosom throbbing with emotion, I saw that we were descending towards the American continent.  When we were about ten or twelve miles from the earth, the Brahmin arrested the progress of the car, and we hovered over the broad Atlantic.  Looking down on the ocean, the first object which presented itself to my eye, was a small one-masted shallop, which was buffeting the waves in a south-westerly direction.  I presumed it was a New England trader, on a voyage to some part of the Republic of Colombia:  and, by way of diverting my friend from his melancholy reverie, I told him some of the many stories which are current respecting the enterprise and ingenuity of this portion of my countrymen, and above all, their adroitness at a bargain.

“Methinks,” says the Brahmin, “you are describing a native of Canton or Pekin.  But,” added he, after a short pause, “though to a superficial observer man appears to put on very different characters, to a philosopher he is every where the same—­for he is every where moulded by the circumstances in which he is placed.  Thus; let him be in a situation that is propitious to commerce, and the habits of traffic produce in him shrewdness and address.  Trade is carried on chiefly in towns, because it is there carried on most advantageously.  This situation gives the trader a more intimate knowledge of his species—­a more ready insight into character, and of the modes of operating on it.  His chief purpose is to buy as cheap, and to sell as dear, as he can; and he is often able to heighten the recommendations or soften the defects of some of the articles in which he deals, without danger of immediate detection; or,