View source for The Merchant's Dream

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<p>Algeron was a merchant. All through a long summer day he had been engaged among boxes, bales, and packages; or poring over current accounts; or musing over new adventures. When night came, he retired to his quiet chamber and refreshed his wearied mind with music and books. Poetry and the harmony of sweet sounds elevated his sentiments, and caused him to think, as he had often before thought, of the <em>emptiness and vanity of mere earthly pursuits.</em><br><br>
"In what," he said, "am I wasting my time? Is there anything in the dull round of mercantile life, to satisfy an immortal spirit? What true congeniality is there between the highly-gifted soul — and bales of cotton or pieces of silk? between the human mind — and the dull insensible objects of trade? Nothing! nothing! How sadly do we waste our lives in the mere pursuit of gold! And after the <em>glittering earth </em>is gained — are we any happier? I think not. The lover of truth — the wise, contemplative <em>hermit </em>in his cell — is more a man than Algeron."<br><br>
Thus mused the merchant, and thus he gave utterance to his thoughts, sighing as he closed each sentence. The book that he loved was put aside, the instrument from which his skillful hand drew eloquent music, lay hushed upon a table. He was unhappy. He had remained thus for some time, when the door of his room opened, and a beautiful being entered and stood before him; her countenance was calm and elevated, yet full of sweet benevolence. For a moment she looked at the unhappy merchant, then extending her hand, she said —<br><br>
"Algeron, I have heard your complaints. Come with me, and look around with a broader intelligence."<br><br>
As she spoke, she laid her finger upon the eyes of the young man. Arising, he found himself in the open air, walking, by the side of his strange conductor, along a path that led to a small cottage. Into this they entered. It was a very humble abode, but <em>peace </em>and <em>contentment </em>were dwellers in the bosoms of its simple-minded occupants — an aged female and a little girl. Both were engaged with reels of a curious and somewhat complicated construction, and both sang cheerily at their work. A basin of cocoons on the floor, by each of the reels, told Algeron the true nature of their employment. A small basket of fine and smoothly-reeled spools were upon a table. While the merchant still looked on — a man entered, and after bargaining for the reeled silk, paid down the price and carried it away. A few minutes after, the owner of the cottage came; he asked for his rent, and it was given to him; then he retired. Shortly after, a dealer in provisions stopped at the humble dwelling, and liberally supplied the needs of its occupants; he received his pay and drove off, singing gayly, while the old woman and the child looked contented and happy.<br><br>
"Come," said his conductor, and Algeron left the cottage. The scene had changed. He was no longer in the open country, but surrounded by small houses; it was a village. Along the streets of this, they walked for some time, until they came to a store, which they entered. Standing beside the counter was the same man who had bought the cottager's silk. He had many parcels, which he had collected from many cottages, and now he was passing them over to the store-keeper, who was as ready to buy, as he was to sell.<br><br>
"Another <em>link </em>in the great chain," remarked the mysterious companion, significantly. "See how they depend the one upon the other. Can the <em>hermit </em>in his cell, idly musing about truths that will not abide — (for truth is <em>active</em> — is, in fact, the power by which good is done to our fellows, and will not remain with anyone who does not use it) — thus serve his fellows? Is his life more excellent, more honorable, more in accordance with the high endowments of the soul, than the life of him who engages in these employments by which all are benefitted?"<br><br>
Algeron felt that new light was breaking in upon him; but, as yet, he saw dimly.<br><br>
"Look up," continued his companion, "and see yet another <em>link</em>."<br><br>
The merchant raised his eyes. The scene had again changed. The <em>village </em>had become a <em>large town</em>, with ranges of tall buildings, in which busy hands threw the shuttle, weaving into beautiful fabrics, of various patterns, the humble fibers gathered from hundreds of cottages, farm-houses, and cocooneries, in all the region roundabout. Through these, he wandered with his guide. Here was one tending a loom, there another folding, arranging, or packing into cases the products thereof; and at the head of all was the manufacturer himself.<br><br>
"Is <em>his </em>a useless life?" asked the guide. "Is he wasting the high endowments of an immortal mind, in thus devoting himself to the office of gathering in the raw material, and reproducing it again as an article of comfort and luxury? But see! another has presented himself. It is the merchant. He has come to receive from this man the product of his looms, and send them over the world, that all may receive and enjoy them. Are his energies wasted? No, Algeron! If the merchant were not to engage in trade, the manufacturer could not get his goods to market, and would no longer afford the means of subsistence that he now does to hundreds and thousands who produce the raw material. Without him, millions who receive the blessings furnished by nature and art in places remote from their city or country, would be deprived of many comforts, of many delights.<br><br>
 The agriculturist, the manufacturer, the merchant, the artisan — all who are engaged in the various callings which minister to the wants, the comforts, and the luxuries of life — are honorably employed. Society, in all its parts, is held together by mutual interests. A <em>chain of dependencies </em>binds the whole world together: sever a single <em>link</em> — and you affect the whole. Look below you. As a merchant, your position is intermediate between the producer and the consumer. See how many hundreds are blessed with the reception of nature's rich benefits, through your means! Could this take place if you sought only after abstract truth, in idle, dreamy musings? Cease, then, to chafe yourself by fallacious reasonings. Rather learn to feel delight in the consciousness that you are the means of diffusing around you, many blessings. Think not of the gold you are to gain — as the <em>end </em>of your activity; for so far as you do this, you will lose the true benefits which may be derived from pursuing, with diligence, your <em>calling </em>in life — that for which by education you are best qualified, and into which your inclination leads you."<br><br>
"I see it all now — as clear as a sunbeam," Algeron said, with a sudden enthusiasm, as light broke strongly into his mind. The sound of his own voice startled him with its strangeness. For a moment he seemed the center of a whirling sphere. Then all grew calm, and he found himself sitting alone in his chamber.<br><br>
"Can all this have been but a <em>dream?" </em>he murmured, thoughtfully. "No — no — it is more than a dream. I have been taught, not by a mere phantom of the imagination, but by Truth herself — beautiful Truth. Her lovely countenance I shall never forget, and her words shall rest in my heart like apples of gold in pictures of silver. Henceforth I look upon life with a <em>purified vision</em>. Nothing is mean, nothing is unworthy of pursuit, which ministers to the good of society. On this rock, I rest my feet. Here I stand upon solid ground."<br><br>
From that time, Algeron pursued his business as a merchant with renewed activity. The thought that he was <em>ministering</em>, in his sphere, to the good of all around him — was a happy thought. It cheered him on in every adventure, and brought to his mind, in the hour of retirement, a sweet peace, such as he had never before known. Fully did he prove that<em>the consciousness of doing good to others, </em>brings with it the purest delight.<br>
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