I must now introduce the reader to an American “merchant Prince,” better known by his associates as the “Prince of Good Fellows.” This is Cornelius Fellowes, of the respectable firm of Messrs. Fellowes & Co., of New Orleans, La. He is rather more than a medium size man, and straight as an exclamation point, with handsome limbs. He cannot be justly termed handsome, without adding man. His face was the color of a last year’s red apple all free from decay; his hair is light for black, and not very thick on top, and he is aged 48 years. He is no politician, statesman, or orator, but as a business man, he is “sound on the goose.” I know of no man that could settle business disagreements to the entire satisfaction of both, better than Mr. Fellowes. He would have made a profound judge, his heart and talent alike is so justly qualified. He is a very liberal and extravagant man, more so than any man I am acquainted with, but he is by no means a benevolent man; I don’t mean to say that he is stingy, for he is not, but I mean to indicate that he always has some original idea of his own to make him give; for example, if a group of little ragged girls come around him begging, he will instantly feel his pockets, and take out all the change, but the most of it would go into the hands of the prettiest or cleanest, at the same time saying, “this is a pretty little girl,” and if there is any left they will be sure to get the remainder. Or if a group of little boys are the beggars, he will give the most to the smartest, and exclaim, “he is a smart little fellow.” And sometimes he is conscious of this partiality, and tries to evade it by throwing the coin among the boys to see them scuffle for it, but this trait of his is so marked, that he will be sure to throw it on his favorite’s head, and if he fails to catch it, it is a sure sign of another chance for the boys. He laughs heartily when his boy catches it, as if it done his soul good. He is so proud, or haughty, or perhaps I had better say, naturally aristocratic, that he can descend from his sphere to vulgar without knowing it, and joke, laugh, and even offer some of his drink, but if you forget yourself, he will recollect himself. He can treat a free colored man as polite as he can a poor white one, and a class that are below them must be in his estimation what they are.

He is a man with no enemies; I don’t believe he has one, and he himself hates no man, and in fact is always happy, jovial, and scarcely ever disappointed with his calculations of things and people. Whatever the Col. does, he does well, but he always puts it off until it can be delayed no longer. If he makes up his mind that he must go up the river, and look in the affairs of his agents or debters, he will appoint next week, but four or five weeks will follow in succession, but as next week must eventually come, he battles with that until the last day. Saturday he leaves on the last boat, and, is his most interested partner abler than another man to tell when he will ever turn his face home, or whether he will stop at Natchez, or Memphis, for what convinced him at 2 o’clock Saturday that he had better get off that evening, was as much the departure of his friends on that boat, as the conviction that these affairs of his must be looked into. When he wants a partner in any of his various traffics, he never looks for a man with capital, but one that understands what his views are, and would feel an aspiring interest, so much so as to devote all his time and talent and scrutiny to its development of prosperity in the end, if not at first. His object seems more the perfection of the business than its profits; but at the end of the year of business, which is the first day of September, if there is no profit, and he is not very deeply in, he will not be inclined to risk much, but he sticks like a leech, and this year must pay the loss of last. He will bleed some branch of this business before he lets go. The balance sheet of the firm of Messrs. Fellowes and Co., foots per annum about $140,000 to $170,000 profit; but if he lost by giving up some of his planters that have made a good crop, $10,000, he thinks that he managed badly, and goes about finding who they are connected with, and whether they wish to come back again. He will now furnish them with more means than he refused them when they left him. No man can get along with a planter better than Cornelius Fellowes; for he considers a planter, or slave holder, his equal in every particular; consequently feels himself at home with them. A planter looks at a merchant as his agent until they become the leading houses in their community, then they are honored in having the great merchant to stay a few days and hunt. But when they go to New Orleans they expect to be waited on by the merchant, when to their great disgust, the merchant sends his clerk to look after their wants; and the merchant, instead of persuading them to come and put up at his house, or dine with him, has other friends more congenial to his taste and dignity, than the planter with his Sunday suit of store made clothes. But as Mr. Fellowes never cares much for looks or position, and as he is an old bachelor and never had a house, and a slave holder is his equal, he hesitates not to go to the ladies ordinary and order his seat at table, and call on the rustic gentleman and family to dine with him, where they drink such wine as they would most likely take at home for stump water and cider. But this familiarity will tell upon the nerves of Mr. Fellowes, for he does not like to feel himself obliged to do any thing, and they will, in this good mood, invite him to the opera, theatre, or most likely the circus. Now this stumps his benevolent feelings to those who need no benevolence; he has his club mates, or the gaieties of Orleans to meet, where are to be found the very men he must touch glasses or whif a cigar with. He is now puzzled. He will let them know before dark, but will have their tickets for them already. He surely will be found missing; he says to himself “it will not do to refuse them without a good and plausable excuse,” therefore he plans in his mind. He calls on one of his numerous clerks, and requests him to take an amount of money and go and buy so many tickets, and requests him further to call on Mr. Brown, and make an excuse, and offer to accompany him and the ladies to the amusement in view. These rich, bustle-dressed, young girls are diamonds in the eyes of young clerks; and young clerks in the best houses are Adonises to what these girls are used to. They soon become agreeable, and when they return home, Sam Smith, their next neighbor, is treated as he deserves to be by civilized beings. Soon after a letter comes to Mr. Clerk from this plantation, with a lady’s scrawl, care Fellowes & Co., and Mr Fellowes delights to find ............