"But you know," I said, "Mr. Slick, that those high prizes
in the lottery of life, can, in the nature of things, be
drawn but by few people, and how many blanks are there
to one-prize in this world."

"Well, what's to prevent your boys gettin' those prizes,
if colonists was made Christians of, instead of outlawed,
exiled, transported, oncarcumcised heathen Indgean niggers,
as they be. If people don't put into a lottery, how the
devil can they get prizes? will you tell me that. Look
at the critters here, look at the publicans, taylors,
barbers, and porters' sons, how the've rose here, 'in
this big lake,' to be chancellors and archbishops; how
did they get them? They 'aimed high,' and besides, all
that, like father's story of the gun, by 'aiming high,'
though they may miss the mark, they will be sure to hit
the upper circles. Oh, Squire, there is nothing like
'aiming high,' in this world."

"I quite agree with you, Sam," said Mr. Hopewell. "I
never heard you speak so sensibly before. Nothing can be
better for young men than "Aiming high." Though they may
not attain to the highest honours, they may, as you say,
reach to a most respectable station. But surely, Squire,
you will never so far forget the respect that is due to
so high an officer as a Secretary of State, or, indeed,
so far forget yourself as to adopt a course, which from
its eccentricity, violence, and impropriety, must leave
the impression that your intellects are disordered.