As  I  never  deserved  to  be  called  "  Mrs.  Leo  Hunter,"
you  will,  perhaps,  be  surprised  at  the  degree  of  interest  I
express  in  this  man,  whose  claims  to  distinction  are  merely
the  having  amassed  wealth  by  his  own  industry  and  shrewd-
ness, and  having  his  adventures  told  by  Gait's  facetious  pen,
The  accumulation  of  dollars  and  cents,  I  grant  is  a  form  of
power  the  least  attractive  of  any  to  the  imagination  ;  but
yet,  as  an  indication  of  ability  of  some  sort,  it  is  attractive
to  a  degree  ;  and  moreover  there  is  something  in  mere
success,  which  interests  us — because  it  is  a  stimulus  which
the  human  mind  spontaneously  seeks,  and  without  which
it  cannot  long  retain  its  energies.  Added  to  this,  there  is
a  roseate  gleam  of  romance,  resting  on  the  shrewd  Scotch-
man's life.     First,  there  is   a  sober   sentiment,  a  quaint,


54  LETTERS

homely  pathos,  in  his  account  of  his  first  love,  which  wraps
the  memory  of  his  patient,  quiet  Rebecca  in  a  sacred  veil
of  tender  reverence.  Secondly,  he  is  a  sort  of  High
Priest  of  Flora  ;  and  though  not  precisely  such  an  one  as
would  have  been  chosen  lo  tend  the  shrine  of  her  Roman
Temple,  yet  this  will  give  him  a  poetic  claim  upon  my
interest,  so  long  as  the  absorbing  love  of  beauty  renders
a  Flower-Merchant  more  attractive  to  my  fancy  than  a
dealer  in  grain.
