Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 4, 1874, Page 10

10 THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, JANUARY 4, 1874 CAPITAL AND LABOR. Differing Views of the Ques- tion. % The Disposition of Capital to Prey Upon Labor. Money-Capitalists and La- bor-Capitalists. Effects upon Society of the Eternity of Capital. The Fomenters of Disorder. The Labor Question. . In prosecuting my inquiries on tho Inbor- question, and endeavoring to obtain facts and statistics bearing upon the eubject, I find my path cbatructed by meny dificalties. In every ‘case whero I have gone to workingmen, I have been troated with doference and respect, and Iating a passsge in his life which he hoped none of his chiidren would ever experience. Ii oo- curred years ago, before breadstuils were im- ported from America, when my father wasa young man, living in Englond. The summer had been such an excessively-wet ono that most of the wheat ‘was spoiled and unfit for use. The Tiftle that was good speculators bought up and stowed away, expecting to realize immonse profits. Produce became so_high that the poor conld not obtain out of their ecanty wages the means of subsistence ; in consequence of which they became clamorous for bread. In the village in_ which my father lived, these grein-speculators, fearfnl of the _poor, Starving crestares, lodged the grain in the church for enfe-keeping, supposiog that no mob would dare attaclk the szcred place. But what do men driven to desperation caro for theology ? TEEY STORMED THAT CHURCH and took possession of the grain. As a matter of course, the militia was called out to drive back this crowd of desperato men, and, in the confu- sion that followed, several lives were lost Riots took place in most of tho cities of En- land, and tho danger became so imminent that g’arlinmem took up the matter, and issued a manifesto that no wheat or flour should be sold above a stated sum, under_penalty of fino and imprisonment, This manifesto gave peace to the country, placed bread within tho reach of tho poor, and brought upon the speculators in human misery the ruiv they so richly descrved. Whilo still young, I inqaired of my mother WHY TRE STOCKING-WEAVERS WERE IDLE the two first days of tho week, and some of them spent_threo days out of the six in fishing and other idle pestimes. * Why do thoy not work all tho time, and earn more mouey, and not be so poor ?” I asked. ' Her answer made such Rn umpression upon my oy questions promptly answered as faras the person’s knowledge extended. But, when vieit- ing others than workingmen, a8 Iam compelled to do in order to look on both sides of the ques- tion, and obtain 28 nearly as possible a solution of this vexed problem, I am st once regarded a5 8 rabid female-suffragist, or & Com- munist; and it takes both time and gtrength to talk away that impression. It requires no small smount of talking to convince them that I have mo pet theories fo ventilate, no prejudices to inflict npon them, but allN want are facts such as they can farnish, —which I find to be very meagre. The general impreesion seems to be, that the 1sborer and the mechanic RECEIE SUFFICIENT REMUNERATION for his work ; if he received more, he would bo in no better condition, as he spends his money at the saloon, and, if he roceived &6 per day in- stead of the sccustomed sum, it would still go to swell Sthe - amount in the saloon- keoper’s % money-box. If the employers #ad - satiefied-~ themselves that such wsp really the case, and that the author- ities would have to support the men when out of worly, mo matter how high their wages ‘were, there would be & good show of reason why the workingman should never be paid any more ‘than jnst merely enough to sustain life. Being fally determined to probe this matter to the utmost, I called, & few days since, &t the RELIEF EMPLOYXINT-BUREAU, where T found that thero, too, was the same im- pression : that the workingman spent his money +at the saloon. The Superintendent informed me that the panic had thrown men out of employment two months earlier than usual, which had Jargely in- creased the number of applicants for relief. He #mew nothing of the canses which had brought them towant. He had no time tovisit and ascer- Aain thoirhabits or general circumstances, snd he could mot say whether it was improvidence drankenness, insuflicient pay, or because they conld not collect their wages, that had reduced #hem to Euch a state of destitution. All he &mow, and all it was his province to know, was, that 5 person or family was really suffering ; and his duty was to Feliove that suffering as zuuch as possible. Ho did think that an inquiry \ought to bo instituted, and an estimate made a8 “to how much & family could live upon withont eing obliged to sock relief; and no man should ‘bo paid less than that’sum for his labor. « Onpe thing that pugzles me s good deal,” he eaid, *“is the receipt of letiers from farmers, telling me they cannot give 8 man work and pay him $15 & month and bonrd. IT SEEMS VERY STRANGE, =8 Hlinois is an agricuisural State.” ¥ know they cannot,’ Ireplied. *I visited a farmer laststmmer, 2100 miles fromthis city ; iyon perform all this L} :not keep & man to helt you ?" ‘- “+] am obliged 19_ 'ij) it; I cannot afford to ), & maa, izdved!’ said his wife; ‘I wonder where the mcney would come from to payhim. I have not bought as much as & calico- dress this year, for I sould not afford it.”” “WWhat made thera so poor?” inguired the Buperintendeat. @Their produce-is worth mothing; they get «anly 20 cents per basnel for their corn.” +1¢ gells higher ‘thatwt that in the market,” ro- marked the Superintendent. 4 Ob, yes ! it sols for 60 cents in tho mar- ket. Now, who get the' profits on the farmer's 1abor ? ” I asked. i ¢ THERE 18 SOMETETSG WEONG SOMEWHERE. This labor-question is hecoming more and more complicated ; it will take & wiser head than mine o solvs it,” said Mr. Eitchcock. After thanking the worthy Snperintendent for <is kind attentioa, I left the building to ponder ‘still more deeply mpon the subject ; and, as I thonght upon the oyinion so frequently ex- pressed, that the workingmen spent their money &% the saloon, memory recalled many families around my own neighborhood, where nothing is squandercd, nothing spent in alcoholic drinks ; yet, if the man's work was to ceace, and he could not obtain credit st his grocery, ho would be OBLIGED TO HAVE RELIEF, or he and his family must soffer. In macy of theso femilies, who will not give up to the squalor of poverty, but fight it bravely from da; 0 day, determined to preserve their own self- respect, and the respect of their children and their peighbors, and live a little like human beings, the wife ind mother is obliged to take upon herself some of the responsibilitics of tho bead of the honschold, somewhat unsexing her- golf in assuming the mascalino prerogative of providing for the wantc of the family. True, if the family is content to live in one room, with- out sny of tho conveniences of ths modern household, she may not ba obliged to assume any of the duties which rightfully devolve upon the husband and father; but, if ehe should want a fow of what we term the comforts of life, &he would be compelled to obtain them by the’ pro- ceeds of her own labor,—the husband's wages being insufficient to procurs them, when ho does not visit either the saloon or the card-table, TAKE, FOB INSTANCE, a Isborer who receives $1.75 per day; thatis $10.50 per week, Out of that amount he pays $1.50 per week for rent, which leaves 99 for current expenses. If Do have four childron,— that is a small calculation, as the olive-branches of the poor are usually very numerous,—and they can live on 20 cents per day for each mem- ber of the family, the cost of their livicg for i:a soven days of £he week would be 88.40,—leaving 60 centa per week for fuel and clothivg. How much fuel would 60 cents purchase? How many lats, coais, shoes, pantaloozs, dresses, aprons, &c., could be bought out of the 60 conta after paying for their coal; and, after the cloth- ing is procured, how much is left for tho sa- Joon ? No wonder our laborers' mives go out washing and bonse-cleaning; no wonder they itake in sewing, washing, or anything clse tney can find todo. No wonderour laborers’ children are running the streets, instesd of going to_school ; and no wonder they are obliged to be put to some kind of labor when thoy ought to be obtaining an educstion. Should we marvel if these poor creatures mads the attempt to improve their con- ditlon in any way that looks feasible? Why ghould they care how much dosolation they spresd in the means they have chosen LTHEY HAVE NOTE0 TO LOSE; their poettion could not be worse, but it might be benefited by a change, nomatter how thatchango ‘wae brought about. o 2 That it always been the disposition of cap- ital to prey mpon lsbor, needs no discus- mien. All history proves this; and, if wo bad well conned the lessons which “ history toaches, we should, long ere this, have seen the danger to this Republic in monopolies and moneyed aristocracy. A government whoss ower resides in moneyed monzg:liee is the most potic form of government ¢ can possibly be imagined, and fo that form of despotism our country has arrived. There are corporations so rich that they are able to control the governing mind that I never forgot it. | *Only & fow years since,” she gsid, *‘the stocking-weavers Wero an_industrious, thrifty clags of men, who woro paid for_their work by the picco. The prico they roceived for their labor was such that, after hving quite comfort- sbly, they still hada small margin left, which they deposited in tho savinga-bauks as somo- thing to fall back npon when overtakon by sick- nessor oldare; but this prosporous siato of things did_not long continue. * The owners of the Tactories, discovering that thewr employes were saving their money, said, ‘ These weavers are MAKIKG TOO MUCH OTT OF TS, We are paying too bigh prices for their labor. They are actually putting money in the banks. ‘Wo must redace thoir pay.! The weavers came to the conclusion that,if they were allowed to make no more out of their Jabor than just enough to sustain life, which they must have, they would work & certain number of days at the same wages, rather than work every day at rednced rates ; and they wera strong enough fo carry their point.” e The eame thing has recently transpired in Colorado. The miners have beon guilty of de- positing money in the banks, and, FOR THIS CRIME, their wages were reduced. The miners havo ro- belled agrzinst this punishment, and aro now out on a strike; npon which a Colorado paper thus comments: ; ““Tho strike of the miners at Central is bring- ing ite fruits. The leading mines are reported to be shut down for the winter, which will make sauy considernble amount of work for miners im- ossible at any price. When will laboring men Bt thet s only injure themselves, and that their griovances and wrongs, which are many, cannot be righted in thet way " Both England and America Lave given us ex- amples of the capitslist saying to the working- man, “ You may make a living, BUT NO MORE. You shall not be allowed to make enough out of your labor to emable you to keep a bauk-ac- count.” Can we be surprised if the workingman, in his tarn, says to the capitalist . * You shall make so much, snd no more. _All_you accumulate above such an amount shall be divided among us.” it not o legitimate result ? Mns. M. D. WxxEoor. The Duty of Capitxlists, To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune : Sir : Your correspondent * Jack Plane” talks good surface sense, but does not go very deep. It is all well to call upon men who are withhold- ing capital to come forward now and put it into the market to supply the pressing demand ; but who has the capital? Not the men who have money. This only represents capital, and can those who WITHHOLD THE CAPITAL ITSELF complain of those who but follow their example in holding on to its representative ?° If the ono is waiting to estort high rates of interest, why mot the other? Have not the men with money peid the men with muscle and skill such rates of interest, in s city, for the past two yoars, that many of them to-day would be glad to real- ize their principal and get no interest. Look at tho houses that bave been built that will not rent for taxes and G per cent on the cash paid to tho workmen for building them! Can honest workmen ask other men to continue giving thom employment at a dead loss to the employor? ‘What would this bebut alms ? As for building churches on the principle of donatiors to work- ‘me, this is not the object. Thoy are built by subscriptions, many of which are widows' mites, snd t}oso baving the funds in hand have mo right to direct tuem to any other object than that of building churches, and are in honor bound to build them for as little cost as they caa. Suppose somo benevolent moneyed man would now underiake to build cheap housos for the poor, in order to bring down their rent, is there & mechanic in the city who would do & day's werk on said houses for a dime Iess than he could hope to wring out of old Mr. Bonovolence ? Would not most of them rather go idle than work forhim at half-price, oven though they maw ho was giving bis capifal without iuterest ? Suppose the unemployed should suddenly re- duco the rate of interest they now demand on the capital which they are witbholding from the market, and take that capital to any point whero they could find a demand for it, 88 mon with money usually do, how long would the panic last? Suppose, for instance, that a lot of men who do not know what. to do with their hands would offer to fill carts with coal, and drive them, .. ., AT $1PER DAY, or 50 conts if they cannot get 31. The prico of coal would come down next ey, and, of course, the poor man be_the better abla to got a supply, Carry out the principle to wood-sawing, and ev- ery other kind of work that can be done at this ecason, and the man who is now hoarding moucy and asking 20 per cent interest for it would soon be glad to get 5. Rents would fall, taxes wonld {all, bread would fall, and the workingman’s $1 would buy him more "comfort and independence than his' €3 have been dowg for the past ten ears; while he, ond other men, would think ess of ** the nlmighty dollar ' than they now do. Labor is at the foundation of our whole social structure. Elevato it morally, and you have Iitted the world ; raise the price financially, and you financially raiso everything with it, and il that 18 gained i an increaso in the number of mon engaged in handling the increased number of dollars mecessary {o cffect an exchange be- tween laborers. That is alwaysa bad state of finance when one takes A BASKETFUL OF MONEY to market to buy tho full of that same basket of potatoes or cabbage; and, when money is most abundant, heis always the richest man who has most cabbage. 1f the workingmen who now tail of starving had each spent Lis last summer's overings in cultivating cabbages on some one of the lots lving around and pro- ducing nothing but mud and mortgages, no poor. wen in this city would bave to pay 10 centa now for a very small head. We should ol have had sourcront in plenty. I should not want to de- prive any man of his mug of beer, it ho wants it; but, if each would confine himeelf to one mug per day, take this with his _dinuer, and ap- ply the price of all beyond that in making provi- sion for future exizencics, wani would be im- possible, except in cases of disaster, Poverty, in tho United States, 13 A CRINE ; and the preeent distress is the direct result of that crime which has Eemiflcntly locked up in the vaults of idleness the capital of the country, its labor, or has waeted its fruits_in thoughtless extravagance. No one eais nickels or wears greembacks! Monoy, of any kind, is but the promissory note of our social bapking system. Labor is its special basie, and those engaged in forcing up the pricc of labor are the real gold-speculatora. The Wall-street bulls and bears are but their ghadows. Nearly thirty yoars ago, THE PUDDLERS AND TOILERS OF PITTSBURGH went out on a strike. Pittsburgh, then., was thought the leading iron-manufacturivg city in the Union; and always has had benevolenco ‘bad! At that time $20'a month and board was power, and have the laws adjusted to suit them- selvos. But it has been go arranged, in the wise providence of the Ruler of all, that DESPOTISMS ALWAYS COMMIT SUICIDE. *They strike their own death-blow. ‘While stll a child, X recollect my father re- good wages fora firstclass farm-hand in Penu-. sylvania. Plenty wero willing to work faithfully from sunrise to sunset, and, in harvest, from dawnuntil dark, for this; and thousands iaid the foundation of fortunes by it. Everything was g0 prosperous that benevolence suflered for want of Fubjects; ‘and o, when the puddlers = and “toilers~ came out with s complaint of oppression, the city broke ont all over with iis pet disease. 1t was worse than small-pox, and got into its eyes. The press took sides with the poor puddlers. Politicians petted thom, Committees raised money for them. : Their grievances were the themo of harangues by demagogues who wanted votes, and their wrongs were well ven- tilated. They had ouly been getting FROM $5 TO £8 PER DAY, and their work was hard work. Tho flounces worn by their wives were quite as grest in quantity, but lighter in quality, thap that worn by the wives of their oppressors, and the houses in which they lived were smaller. In point of food_thoy Liad_ beaten the employers, for they had bought and eaten, or thrown into slop-pails, the oarliest fruits and vegetables, while Mr. Caution, the mill-owner, had boen meanly wait- ing for prices to come down. People who would not have bought a peck of now potatoes until they could get them for 10 cents were deeply moved with compassion for the poor puddiers who had beon eating ther at 50 cents a quart, and creating disease bythrowing good bread into alleys to Tot. _Monoy poured in for the support of the poor Inborer in his contest with the rich capitalist. One conld scarcely get into and omnibus withont.meeting ) ONE OF TIIE OPPRESSED, in fine broadcloth suit, dirty shirt, gold chain, sesl ring, and watch, with & Havans i his teeth, and o defiant swagger alloverbim, Cigar-slops and drinking-saloons reaped a rich harvest, and the men who had begun lif as poor iaborers,— who had saved and contrived until they bronght hundrods of thousands of dollars to the city every year,—tho men who bad made her,—who bod built mills and wharves, churches and houses,—who had graded streets and paved them,—who had brought thousands of mechanica snd Laborers to the city, and found them profit- able employment,—who had_given to every one of them just such opportunitics of growing rich 38 they had,—and whose peculiar qualities were just a8 necessary to general prosperity s a king- olt to & wagon, WERE TBEATED AS PUDLIC ENEMIES. Men who farmed at $20 2 month began to think that thoy had been_oppressed withont knowing it. A general policy of discontent sprang up. If men receiving $8 a day were wronged and oppressed, why were not all men wronged and oppressed ? The higher prices demanded for Jabor raised everything clse, and no poor mau bas since bought his buttor Jat 12§ cents o pound in the Pittsburgh market ; azd this wag a fair price before. The strike lasted & long time, and tho_iron inturests of Pitteburgh never rocovered. Hor merchants learned to sce West- ern dealorns pass her to buy castings and ma- chinery in the East, which sho conld have suj plied but for the discontont and selfish deman of her workmen. When her oil was discovered, Boston supplicd the pipes, castings, aad engines for pumping it up, - Alen with monay grew_cau- tious pbout investing it in. enterprites likely to bo ruined any day by BREACE OF CONTRACT OX THE PART OF WORK~ MEN, and the city did not keep up with the march of improvement in the degree that was to have been expected from her great natural resources. Tho home of every workingman then, who hea gained a home, is worth less from the check to tho city's growth. Everypoor man’s cook-atove, dinner-pot, and grate havo cost him more since that time for the capital of skilled Iabor 8o long locked up in’har- saloons. Every poor man's coal, chair, table, and bedstead cost more forthae law ot etrikes thus maintained ; and farmers, payiog doublo for Isbor, doubled the price of every produgt, and often more than double, from the%ss ocergioned by discontent and unfaithful- ness on the part of Hired help. While the oppreesed workmen were riding in omnibuses, loating in saloons, and ennng tho ll;re;u;] raised by begging, there lived, in Pitis- urgh, % TWO {ICKED LITTLE CAPITALISTS, born aristoerats, brothers, who had ecach two lttlo fists of his ovwn, s puir of nctive feef, a square littlo head that was always level, and a heart in the right placo, with just cnough bone aud muscls to make counections. Their mother was a'poor’ widow, and people say, was s aristo- cratic es to waeh rather than beg. The boys sold papers with the pews of tho strike, and always took their monsy home to their mother. Business-men found them trasty little feliows, and soon gave them other work; and they always did it with such wicked disregard of ail laws, except those which required them to do it well and as goon as possible, that they got more work,—worls that somptimes kept thom busy ten houre, or helve hours, or even twenty hours out of the tweniy-four; bit their law was to do their worls, and do it 24 if it was theirs. They aro TWO OF THE WEALTHIEST MILL-OWNERS in that city now, and oxtend their operations all over this country, and into Europe ; but they never can get dinmonds quite bright enough for the hands of- their mother ; and the stout old Indy i8 Dot able to Ul tho velrets, silks, and laces they would like to hang on her. They spend thousands s year in helpiog poor Iaborers, und thus, in somesort, atone for their sin in belng capitatists. They give work and bread toa grent many men snd women, in surroanding their mother with every luxury that love can suggest and money buy ; and I have thought no other laces £o bandsomo s hers, of which every mesh Topresented patience, self-denial, industry, econ- omy, & mother's firm, judicious suthority, and & gon’s revereut obedience and protecting care. Five years ago, 1 went up to tho finugunny Mountains, in search of the health lost in nurs- ing wounded men. I bought two acres of pine- forest, and built a house on it. There was a besutiful, sunny opening, on which I proposed 10 raise fruit, but found that the money I shoald have to pay for Iabor to get started would buy all the fruit X could raise in_years,—buy it in tho Philadelphia market, and bring it by express. ‘There were plenty of men sitting in the grocery- stores, or pitching horse shoes by the bisck smith-shop, but none of them thought he conld afford to work for what the enterprise would wasrant, even if Ishould contribute my little capital of land and skill. Any of theso men were willing to accept my gratuitous services in sickmess or difficnlty of any kind; but, when I wanted a log-hesp made and burned, or s little wood chopped, 1 HAD TO WAIT FOR A CAPITALIST to come anddo it. He was another specimen of total depravity; came to that neighborhood with both pockets full—of willing hands ; bonght an ax, and chopped himeelf out a nico little farm; chopped a comfortable house on it; put into it, 28 his wife, one of tho handsomest women Iever 82w ; evory bwo yoars added a rosy baby to his capital ; built a big barn; had more cattle than ho knew what to do with, and sometimes worked after night to get time to chop my wood. There are two other capitalists thers, a man and his wife, who came from Germany, and brought their hands with them. He wentto work at 50 centsn day and she at 25. Fifteen yeard after, when I saw them first, they had 140 ncrea of land, il well-fenced, half of it under fine cultivation, & very comfortable honse, big barn, fat horaes, bandsome carrisge, plenty of cows and sheep, village property, and money at interest, nnd had made fortunate epeculations,~— made it all by industry and economy, and ara not troubled by tha crieis. Those who please to work and save cap, m this country, ouly come to want by unusual calamity; those who do not ‘work to Bave HAVE X0 RIGHT to ask thoso who do_to feed them when want comes. JANE GREY SWISSUELA. The Eternity of Capital in Its Effects upon Society. To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune: Sm: In my letter on Capital and Interest, published in your paper Jan. 1, I considered tho eternity of Capitsl injurious to ociety. In this Iotter I will explain it. A father, for inslance, gives his eldest son a steam-cngine worth $2,000, and his second €on $2,000 in cash. The latter lends his money out 2t 10 per cent emmple interest, and the first rents his machine for $365 a year, which, under sharp competition, is high rent ; it is 1814 per cent in- terest on his money. Now, which of the two sons will win on the long run? TILE YOUNG CAPITALIST WILL. At the end of ten years the steam-engine will be worn out, and all the owner of it has at that time is 3,650, while the capitalist has $4,000, although thoe first received 18¢ per cent and the Iatter only 10 per cent. This demonstrates how important the duration of Capital is. It is, thercfore, not surprising at all that we have so many millioneires, while the working society re- maine about in the same position. Without any. outlny whatever, a capitalist lends ont his re- ceived interest, and'it comes back, in ten or fif- teen years after, double in quantity. Whether itis $100 or £1,000,000 is all the same. And every one of these dollars is an eternal dollar; it don’t got old. snd need not b replaced by & new one. The visible silver dollar is only the coat of this invisible oternal Capital dollar, and it coat may wear out a hundred fimes ;' bat o B CAPITAL DOLLAR NEVER WILL. Ina million of years we will find it restless, doubling itself. Having seen that it is the eternal duration of Capital, which is applied to it by an old social sgrecment, which leads to its victory, we will siow see how its power ia becoming dangerous to Bociely. Sas ‘Lot us.suppose that, in’ & city like ours, 1,000,000 is lent out weckly on interest, and an equal sum taken in by capitalists. Let this go on without interruption for years, until, by some event, the capitalists get suddenly alarmed, and, fooling euspicious, refrain from Jendiog out for thirty days, but keep on with taking in the inter- estand capital falling due. What will be the result of it ? A pamic 3 SUCH AS WE DAVE NOT PASSED THEROUGH YET ; a stand-still of most every busmess. People may want this and that, but they have no money. Their consuming power is reduced to bread and fuel. Factorics must stop, and the workmen beidle. But, as capital lying in tho safe is un- productive, the capitalist must, after sll, budout again; and, with this tendency, business com- mences again. It dow't iake long, and every trade is lively and money plenty. Speculators fina o field again to operate; bub the conge- quence of their operation is the beginning of & new panic. 5 Desire to_obtain, and fear to lose,—these t5vo wers are taking alternately possession of the Foatts of tho capitaliets, sd set the groat pro- ducing machine to work, ead stop it.” The on- tire working eociety—employes, employers, and storekespors—is altogetlier 8 powerless body, and will very likely get helpless v.unfa!.har. our victorious, oternal Capital will, and must, wita its finapcial panics, DEGRADE AND DESTROY BOCIETY, and iteelf with it. " This is the situation wo are in. This is what the workingmen sro foeling in_their hearts all over the civilized world, and what they cannot distinctly expross. They have cried, Down with Capital! for yeara ; and that was ail thoy could say. Let us pot misunderstand that cry, and kick them off like dogs. Let us correct their programme, and let one and all join and say, 'DOWN WITH THE ETERNITY OF CAPITAL! and once more wo will see a happy people in this our free country. It scems to n(.?.' that Karl Marx, and others be- fore him, have been laboring under the belief that the eocial problem of the presont lies with- in the factory and the market. This ia a serious mistake, and it has led to numerous troubles. If this liad been tho case, socioty would have been disrupted moro than twenty-five years ago. It is not the factory where wo have to look after tho evil, It is the headquerters of the Capital. JomN A. SCHAFF. Cuicaco, Jan, 2, 1874, Fomenters of Disorder. To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune: Sm: The workingmen tslk and write ns if they thonght there were ro laborers except those who used their muscles, snd that they took no cog- nizance of the fact that the labor of the brain and nervous system was more debilitating and woarisome than that of the muscle; but I appre- hend that there aro more men and women in Chicago to-day trying to do business, froma small retail to tho colossal wholesale, WOO HAVE LABORED IARDER mora hours, and laid awake more nights, and ‘been deprived of more food from anxiety, in the 1ast two months, than could be counted in the processions which have marched our streets of Iate, demanding something of the city in return for that they have not earned. Yet these men and women do not ask the city to do anything for them ; thoy struggle, push, pull, and strive in every lawful manner to better their condition, and if, finally, they fail in their undertakings, they are scon.seon and felt pushing in some other direction ; and this is the meterial which has made Chicago what she is. Not but that I would bo mindful of the say- ings of our Great Teacher: ’fl.\?uYoor yo have always with you, snd when ye will yo may do them good ;” but this crowd puehing for nssist- ance is o disgrace to thosa who really need help. Let noone of the deserving pass without the ncedful loaf, or load of coal, or place of shelter, or the Inond and encouraging word; but lef the barnacles who would cling to the hull of the overument-sbip, impediug its progress in Enlping the resily needy, DE SCBAPED OFF ; and ot no pains bo spared, nor time either, in freeing the city from tho pests who would incite insurrection and bloodshed. Ifthe city must needs tako caro of them, let it put them where they can do no harm to others, nor lead the honest, unoffending foiler into trouble. *'A littlo leaven leaveneth the whola lump;” and if tho Sow dishonest men, who aro anxious ouly o promoto a disturbance, thinking that they may thereby be thrown to the topin tho revolution which shall be stirred up, are al- lowed to mature and cultivate the spirit of dis- cord and hate which has been engendered by the hard times, they may set on fire n conflagration among theso unemployed ones which will bo as uncontrollable as that of Oct. 9. It takes but a spark to kindlo a_great flame, & little meanness to do_s great deal of mischief ; 80, alao, & very small number of uuprincipled leaders may tlirow down what hus taken o groat number to build up; and, theso things belng so, it soems a8 f our city sutboritics would be doing 1o moro than their duty to sco to it that the few men who are striving to stir up discord in_the minds of those who aro of necessity brooding over their hard lot, should be PLACED WHERE THEY CAN DO NO TARIL If 1t is necessary to restrain wickedness inthe shape of those whom the authorities know are pick pockots, or those who bear s disrepatablo character generally, or suy kind of unlawful- ness, is not more 80 to keop within bounds those who, by their unlicensed and unbridled tongues, would overtarn the very foundations of society? But you say we canuot touch them until they commit some overt act. Must I wait when I eco the incendiary preparing to burn my bLonse, when I see he has got his kindling, his matches, and kerosene all placed in_position, until I see bim touch the match to it, before Ican grab bim by the collar and hand him over to the officer of the law? SELF-PRESERVATION is the first law of nature, a8 much for tho City of Chicago a8 for the humblest toiler that treads its streeta. Perhaps you may think that I am alarmed un- necesearily, and that the time of trouble is past, and that tho workingmen have got too much good senso to be led into excesscs, and, now that the Relief Society has got to work among them, we will have no moro trouble. Dut re- member that a little success in tho direction of bringing municipalities to terms only serves to whet the appetite for greater achievements in the same direction. The winter has but just commenced, and wo have two months yot which muat of necessity be very dull in the way of business; and do yon suppose that theso men will want for villains to dragoon them into any manner of excess? And theso very men, perhaps not more than & baker's dozen, who bave the will, and, if let alone, will bave the power, to lead on to blood- shed and riot, are to-day ZLADORING FOE TIIAT VERY PURPOSE. Are they workingmen? 1 trow mot! Their hands are not accustomed to the use of any implements but those of villainy. Let allhonest Iaborers abstain from their society. WixsonN Avays Smaw. Cmcaqo, Jan, 2, 1874, e o THE LAKE-FRONT. To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune : Sm: I favor selling the Lake-front, but only as all public property should be sold, viz.: af public suction to the highest bidder; and, if the threa blocks from Randolph to Monroe street are properly advertised and put on the market they will gell, even now, for over 2,000,000, a8 tho following rough estimates will zbundanily show: Assuming the width of the land from Michigan avenue to the railroad right-of-way to be 300 feet,—and it don’t vary much from that,—the railroads then have several side-tracks already Iaid on portions of this land; but these douht- less can, and certainly should, be romoved at once. Now, extend Indiana avenuo north along the west line of the railroad right-of-way. This still leaves an avorage width of, say, 234 feet. Then extond Randolph, Washington, AMadison, and 3Tonroe stroets east to Indiana avenus, snd recollect the opening of these streets costa noth- itg, as the aty now owns all the land. Tho distance from Rendolph to Washe iogton is 8% feot; from Wash- ington to Madison, 842 feet, and from Madison to Monroe street,—I have not the ex- ect mezsurement by me,—330 fect; and theso measurements will be net after the enst ana west strents are ex:ended and made 80 feet wide. Novw, subdivide into lots fronting north and south on Bandolph, Washington, Madison, and Monroe streets, 80 feet deep to & 16-foot alloy (this is more than the averago dopth of this class of business lots) ; and we have on these east and west streets’ 1404 feet frontage. Now, while property on Washington, Masdigon, etc., only tivo blocks west of this, sells at $3,000 per foot,—and & number of sales at that rate have been reported in your paper during the past week,—nobody will contend that the average price'of thia property showld b lees thaa halt at; but, to be entirely safe, pus it aba third, or 81,000, and we have 91,404,000, Then the east frontage on Indiana avenue bétween the alleys makes 530 feet, and on Michigan avenmo the eame ; and theso would be deep lots, running 40, 227, & £0-faot conrh to run between the alleys. Now, put this 1,060 feet op Indians and Michi- an avenues at only $800 per foot, and we have 5848,000 moro ; or & total of $2,252,000. 1 know some of the moro enthusiastic owners of this property will say that I have valued it ridiculoualy low; that the MNichigau avenuo frontage alono will sell for more than I valued bothit and the Indiana zvenue front at. But these are panicky times, and I want to make o low cash:valuation, and keep entirely within bounds. Good reasons may—poseibly do—exist why the city should donate to the railroads some 81,452,000 worth of property for the purpose of gefting & mugnificent depot, &c., &c., but the caso should be stated in that way, and not 80 as to_deceive the Eeoplo, who_are the owners of this land, a8 to the actual value of the property thoy are conveviog. b # As stated in the beginning of this communica- tion, I am in faver of selling tbis land, and also all the remeining portion of this Lake-front, to- gotber with all other real estate owned by the city and not needed for immediate use. The en- tiro forty acres of this Lake-front property, if properly put in the -market, will sell for from £6,000,000 to £8,000,000; and, if all other un- used pieces owned by the city are sold at tho same time and sale, probably over $10,000,000 can be realized. Apply all of this money to- wards payicg off the present city debt, and our financial condition would bo wonderfully 1m- proved. Another good reason for seiling all the nnused city real estate is: If we don’t sell it and pa; our debts, some_enterprising individual or rail- rood company will buy up the city officers some day, and “gobble” it. Some threo yoars ago, about 1,100 feet frontage on North LaSalle and North Clark streets, worth at that time over $200,000, was conveyed, in some sort of trade, to private parties, by order of the then Common Council. And soon afterwards one of the prin- cipal parties in that transaction testified that he bonght up a majority of the Aldermen at $250 esch. The amount head paid in this case was ridiculously low, does wus no credit 28 a city, and is, in fact, scarcely an average prico of food cattle. And yet we have no eviderze tbat any future Council cannot be bought at equally low rates. That poor, frail body will at bost always be sufficiently tompted ; but certainly the right to scll large smounts of city property, oxcept at public gale, should be positively prohibited in the organic 12w, and the temptations to corruption in_this" direction re- moved, Davio WiLriaus, e OUR DUAL LIVES. I BY PROF. WILLIAM MATHEWS, OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO, Another of the remarkable contrasts between the outer and the inner man is the discrepancy wo often notice between the profession one fol- Jows in public, and tho private tastes which he cultivates and cherishes. ‘‘Blessed is the man that bath a hobby!” said Lord Brougham; and Brougham himself, who ranged all the fields of politics, philosophy, scienco, and litorature,— who had g0 many hobbies that “Science was his forte, and omniscience his foiblo,"—was a bur- lesquo of his own doctrine. Could we know how evory man of our acquaintance, who has a regu- lar calling by which he pays his butcher’s bills, passes his leisuro-hours, we should often be sur- prised to find HOW SLIGHT A CLUE one's public character affords to tho profounder sympathics of Lis pature. Some of the most drudging, business-devoted men. in the community,—who spparently think and talk of nothing but **2 per cent a month " or *corner lots,"—we should find in privais indulging in somo taste, anch as a love for pictures or betles- lettres, which argues a totally different charac- tor beneath the suxface. A merchant who is noted for the keenness with which be pursues every means of money-mekivg, and the inflexi- Dbility with which ho insists on the last cent of his dues, is found to be overflowing with zesl for thecause of temperanco, education, missions, or sume other of a kindred character, for which he iss ready to pour out his money lie water. Tlow often the plodding, black-letter lawyer, who ecemingly bms not & thought beyond the hard, dry technicalities of Coke or Littleton, is kuoown by bLis bosom-friends to be an ardent lovor of literaturo, and to epend his lewsure-hours in drawing from tho “ pare wells of English ande- filed,” or in distilling the sweetnessof the Greeck and TRoman spring! Perhaps this “ gowned vulture,” as old Burton would term him, whom the million sappose to be perpetually busy in exasperating the bickerings of Doo and Roe, and blowing up every little spark of & dis- puto into 5 blazing quarrel, is decply interested in some philanthropic movement,—some Chris- tian-Association, or ~ Freedmen's-Aid-Commis- sion, or Orphan-Asylum, or Public-Library movement,—and dirides his leisure-time between the stidy of his favorite authors and the prepa- ration of elaborate articleson the enterprise for the roviews, magazines, or newspapers. Per- heps his hobby is GREEX-TRSTAMENT TRANSLATION, and, after toiling all day to convict a Rafferty, De flies on the wings of steam to some enuggery in the outskirts of the town, where, surrounded by copies of the Sinaitic and other manuscripts, and all the English, German, and Amencan Commentaries, piled up on floor and table, he may detect some fales rendering of & Greek particlo, or hit upon & happier reading of sn aorist, which shall proevoke a louder ¢ Eureka!” than the bafiling of a cut-throat’s lawyers. Per- hapa thie * hired mastor of tongue-fenco ™ is & picture-fancier, who is profoundly impressed with the glories of art, and is learned in oils and varnishes; who drops often into Butters’ auction~ room, and nods his head to the Lnightofthe hammer, at the cost of $50 a nod ; who descants by tho hour on his Bierstadt, or his Vandyke of whom ‘‘an undoubted onginal” hangs in his parlor, sups with a Holbein or a Titian confronting him on the wall, and dreams all night of the mysterious gloom of Rembrandt, the navageness of Salvator Rosa, and the ©cor- regiosity of Correggio.” Perhaps, again, his hobby is sutograpbs,—old letters, scraps of paper, fly-leaves from books, and bits of franked envelopes,—which he keeps under lock and key, lest Bridget should toke them for litter, and congign them to the fire, or convert them into lamp-lighters. Or, lastly, ho may be PASSIONATELY FOND OF MUSIC; giving private concerts in his own patlor; often geraping away himself on the violin, or puffing at the trombono, or thumping on the piano; and dinning the ears of his friends with. eternal praises of Mozart, and Mendelssohn, and Beethoven,—of Martini and Rhigini, aud all the others that end in ini,"—and fifty more whom to pronounce wero to dislocate one’s jaws, but whom to hear is Elysfum. Thero are few persons who are not familiar with more or fower instances of men who have thus an inner self strongly contrasting with their onter self,—something nobler or meaner than tho visible man,—something which makes him think more highly of himself than the world thinks of him, or which, if known, would make him the target of univereal ridicule and scorn. Some years ago, one of tho best cutomalogists in Chicago wns a ccmmon workman in a cabinet- maker's shop. To-day, ono of the PROFOUNDEST AND BEST-READ METAPHYSICIANS in the same city is 8 German educated in the best German and Scotch universities, who earns the leisure which ke spends in brooding over the mysteries of our spiritual being by selling, as a clerk, coats, veste, and trowsers for the physical man. The most extensive book-publisher in Great Bntain, whose pubiications would of themselves form a large private library, we know to be a rosc-fancier, who has in his gardan, just out of London, 3,000 distinct species of roses, for many of which he bas scnt to the farthest corners of the globe, and paid fabulous sums. A single rose-tree hns cost him £1,500. When one visits .a public office, ho is often greatly struck by the mechanical regularity of the scene. ‘The officials look like automata, or pieces of clock-work wound up to do certain duties ; and e can scarcely persuade himself that they bave under their waistcoats hearts beating with the same passions a8 his own. Yet, perhaps, there is not one of these stiff, formal-looking beings, or cast-iron men, who does not indulge in some curious, ~ 3 B OUT-OF-THE-WAY TASIE OR HOBBY 4in his ex-officio character. Some years ago there was in Dnudee, Scotland, a servant to the Magis- trates, wearing their livery, who was by far the most learned man in town. ! There was about ithe same time s butcher in the Edinburgh mar- {ket who spent all his spare timein reading books of o profoundly philosophical character. ‘Hobbea, Hutcheson, Stewart, and Brown were his constant companions. - In the same metropo- lis there wasa porter who was remarkable for the zeal with which, with self-made machinery, he pursued experiments in electricity, and in a public office might have been seen a dull-look- ing man, who, though seemingly devoted only to ita dry details, waa a most profound student of the etymologies of European and Eastern lan- gusges, and wrots Little tracts on obscure toxts, which attracted the atiention of English Bishops. The greatest monarchs TAVE NOT ALWAYS BEEN HAPPIEST when wearing the crown. One of the Kings of Macedon loved better to make lanterns than to wield the sceptre; and a King of France found his chief delight in making locks. Domitian spent hours in catching flies. The French states- 'man, Turgot, found = solace for the loss of office in the study of physicel scionco, and cheated tho gout of its torture by making Latin verses; a sample of which we have in the famous line on Franklin: . Eripuit eaclo falmen, sceptrumque tyrannis, Bir George O. Lewis, when not busied with badgets, copied Greek manuseripts in the British Museum, or investigated reported cases of lon- gevity. Occasionally we hear of a discrepancy between & man's public and private character thatis TOO LUDICROTS POR BELIEF. “I have hestd,” says an English writer, of a clever, active farmer; who, while univer- sally respected as & first-rate agriculturist, a man of large means and liboral under- standing, was accessible to no flattery on these accounts ; but, if you had only told him that you had heard of his possessing s wonderfal power of squenking like a pig, and were extremely anxious to hear him try it, he would btush and hesitate, like & young lady asked to sing, disclaim all merit, say it was great nonsense, and finally, after s sufficiency of pressing, he would exhibit a8 & pig,—evidently belicving that, if fortune had played him fair, he would have astonished the whole world by his art, instead of bewg only a “respectable farmer.” Another striking discrepancy between the outer and the inner man is TIE VIVID CONTRAST which we often observe of & person’s talk or writings with his life,—of his speculation with hisacts. It has been truly smd that there i3 a division of labor even in vice; some men addict themselves i0 the speculation only, others to the practice. Montaigne tells us that he *‘slways observed supercelestial opinions and subterranean morals to be of singular accord”; and it is a fact which has escaped the motice of few, that purits, bypocrisy apart, are sometimes the freest livers, while, on the other hand, some of the most lati~ tudinarian professors of a general license of behavior have been the last to take tho benefit of theirown doctrines, from which they reap nothing but the obloquy, and the pleasurs of starting their ““wonder-wounded” hearers. An author's book is often a poor key with which to unlock his character. Because certain poets have been enthusizstic in their praises of wine, we may not poeitively infer that they were ad- dicted to tippling. It was the very rarity of the indulgence that gave such zest to their strains; for, as the truly heart- broken mourner suffers only an occasional sob to escape bim 8o no man cares to descant ecstatically upon any subject with which be is thoroughly familiarized. Men of genius who bave happy homes do not babble about that hap- piness in their writings. Nine-tenths of those who havo raved in rapturous stanzas about the sweets of conjugal love were BACIELORS EHIVENING IN SOLITARY GARRETS. Could the secrets of authorship be disclosed, it would be found that romances of foreignlands come generally from persons who Lave mever smolt salt-water, just as “‘stories of real life,” showing “a deep insight of human natare,” come from those who would be shocked at an ironspoon. Rural life ia the eternal burden of 3 sailor’s talk; wlule farmers, who are fixtures of the soil, think nothing so pleassnt a8 & life of eight-seeing and adventurs in foreign lands. Mountaineers and rustics have an intense ap- preciation of the advantages of great cities; while, on the other hand, tho denizens of great, ugly, smoky towns hsve a passionate longing for beantiful scenery and rustic retirement. The anthor of “The Intellectunl Life” says truly that the development of modern landscape-. painting has been due, not to habits of rural ex- istence, but to the growth of very big and hideous modern cities, which made men long for shady forests, and pure streams, and magnifi- cent spectacles of sunset, and dawn, and moon- light. Paul Jones, tho hero of desperate sea- fights, loved Thomson's ** Seasons"; Bonaparte, who overran Europe with his armios, recreated himself with the wild rhapsodies of Ossian ; and Spinoza, who passed his days among the cob- webs of metaphysics, amused himself by SEEING SFIDERS FIGHT. The most exquieilely-delicate artists in litera- taro and painting have astonished thoir friends bytheir coarseness; and Swift even declared that a nice man is a man of nasty ideas. It is said that within the Chateaubriand of -‘Atala™ there existed an obscure Chateaubriand that would burst forth occasionally in talk that mo biographer would repeat ; and the same has been affirmed of the sentimental Lamartine. Turner, dreamer of enchanted landscapes, took the pleasures of a sailor on o spree. Too much thinking drove Johnson to his cat for conviviali- ty; and a similar reaction drove Byron to fight for Greece. Heron's “Comforts of Human Life” was written, under the most painfal circumstances, in prison; Beresforu's ‘Miseries of Human Life"” was composed in a drawing-room, amid the most elegaut sppointments and luxuries. Seneca was never moro eloquent in his praises of poverty than when writing on A TADLE OF GOLD, with a large sum on deposit at his banker’s, Tom Hood, who was go thin and spectre-like that he looked like an afterncon shadow of some- body eles, was always writing abont fat people; and, though tho princo of jesters, was so grave and saturnins, that, when traveling witk tie British army in Flanders, he was taken for the Chaplain of & regiment. Johnsoa, Who wrois so well on politeness, trampled on all the “linen decercies” of life; and Sterne, who wept over a dead ass, neglected his living mother. *‘Go, oor fly, 1 will not harm thee; eurely, the world 15 big enough for thee and me,” could be said by n domestic tyrant ; and tho tender love-notes to the unhappy Stella came from a man of so cruel # heart thaf it has been said that his tenderness was_manifest only on paper. On tke other hand, when Lady Blessington's effects were sold by auction, who, think you, of the 20,000 perzons that visited the house previously, alone shoed any visible emotion at the wreck of apros- perity in which most of them hadshared? It was Thackeray, the cynic and satirist of woman, whose theory of her, expressed with bitter irony in one formula,— ALL CLEVER WOMEN ARE WICKED, AND ALL GOOD WOMEN ARE FOOLS,— has made his name hateful to the sex. The finest pastornls have been writtenin tho city ; the most mirth-provoking jests have fallen from the lips of the gloomiest men ; and_great Wits in society havo startled the world with tragedies in their closets. Dr. Young, whose Parnassus was a churchyard, who k of the River Styx instead of Hippocreue, and who sought his inspi- ration from cross-bones and skulls, was & jovial, pleasure-loving man and a conrt-sycopbact, who," hnvin§ supped fall of the world and ite follies, tarued state's evidenco against them, aod sat- irized the pursuits in which he had failed. On the other hand, Listos, the comic actor, who maddened London nightly with laughter, used to sit up after midnight to zead tha Dociar’s “Night Thoughts,” delighting in_its monoi- onous gloom. Men’s characters, like dreams, must be unriddled by ¢ontraries. 1873 AND 1874, The Teachings of the Old Yeay and the Promises ofjthe New, It is dead,—that Old Year u: which, wh wes young and -fair, we made um:h’ !'pecimnni: promises. How firmly we resolved that each of its days should beara worthy record! Hoy erflng' Was our conviction that it would Bes onr besetting sins conquered »0ur special weaknesgag cured! And thon we loathed the Temembrancy in June of our January resolves. How we wal comed the year's close, that we might turm over anew leaf and begin afresh! 1 Ne il Alas! Noy i 'WASTED YEARY 5 hzu? yet tavght us the folly of New Year's Teso. lutions. Wo began the useless labor in child. hood. ]'Jnnng the Christmas-holidays, whils the coming echool-term loomed up before and stretched awsy as measureless as eternity sppears {0 U8 now, our young souls agonized over premature and surreptitious consumings of noonday-lunches. _ unreported _whisperings, shirked lessons, and other childish!peccadilloes » and most solemnly did wo vow to durselves, ad record in unformed penmanship, that we wonld abandon all these practices, calculated to ruin ourselves, and bring disgrace npon our Teiazives; and wonld endeavorto conform ourselves in every way tothose (now known to be impossible) models found in the Sunday-gchool books, By, midsummer nothing remained to remind us of our good reuclv:;, : except an uneasy, irritated’ consciousness that we were nct wh :% be; which conaciousness, e Bave tines s , is an inseparable adjunct of humanity, b which we then imagined to be ours by m:w’no;:‘ 1y. < VERY CURIOUS are the varions subjects on which we make reso- lutions as wo advance in life. While we were in, that bewitching time known as ‘the teens,” whben everything was rose-color we were elways resolvin improva the time, ss if youth 4id net Alwssa haves good time when Jet alone by its elders, and a8 if the surest way to spoil time was not ta seek to improve it. A little further on is the age when one resolves to save money, to rise early, to leave off light readiog, and fakeup couree of history or the languages, to swear offt on tobacco and liquor, to quit flirting and get married. A little later on_come the years when' sanitary measures appear of paramount import- ance. We mako it a rule never to eat befors going to bed, to practice with the dumb- lls every day, to sleep with the head of the bed to the north, to avoid scenes, {o' leave off hair-dyes, to stop reading in bed, etc.,. etc. That is the last stage; after that Jan, § sinks into a mero arbitrary division of tho eter< nity on which all humanity is embarked. We talte our repontance in daily draughts instead of soimal excesses, and content jourselves, on ths opening of the New, by a review of the LESSONS OF THE PAST YEAB. Dear old '73 taught ue that it is not eafe o be- come bondsmen for any man ; that Solomon was as clear-headed as ever when he remarked that ' He that maketh haste to be rich shall nof be ‘innocent; that all -the honest men don't_always get on_the samo political tioket; that there isno knowing what mayhappen ; that the world goes on just as well if celebrated men do die; that we can't change the world, but it's ten toone the world changes us; that, if a Beecher, s Tilton, » Bowen, and a church play cat's-cradle with a string of lies, no man can Exedjc:ta tho next combination, or on whose ands it will be ; that churches are splitting, in-, etead of congolidating; that the national debt won't be paid by the individual abnegaticn of cigars; that, if we had our lives to lite over 'again, and were born with tha same characters andhad the same opportuni wo should do the samo_things ; i 8, | that banging is one of those disagreeables to which a man can- not sccustom himself, and o reprieve does not materially help him; that Washington's body-servant is 5 perennial who dies every year to blossom into life again 83 newspaper exigon- cies may require ; and that jou tic enter- priso has been_brought to such perfection that the modern- editor stands ready ¢ sacrifice his own relatives’ professional prospects to a sensa- tion. It may be as well, then, for us to jot downin our memories A FELW HINTS FOZ 1874. It is better to live in & little, mean, two-story. frame house than in a jail; it is & good_ thing, when you are talking of another man's defalca-" tion, to meke sure you. could have handled s much money, with like opporianities for dis- honesty, and not fallea before temptation.! It doesn't pay to worry over whas will happen to, Your wifo if you were taken away ; she may ge & botter husband. If you are wondering what makee your former schooimate's hair so gray, or ‘what makes such a one &0 wrinkled, or why such another one is growing so stout, just take a long Jook in the glass. Do not imagine, becanse you have resolved to gnclice charity and to speak well of oversbody, that everybody has ‘mado the same resolution regarding you. If you are heartsick with regret that you were not mors tender and thoughtful towards the dear ones you have lost, just try to avoid farther repentance in future by being good to those atill left you. Don’t put off enjoymant. If you are not ready to enjoy things as thoy come, when you are ready they won't come. Planning to enjoy friends and fortune in the future is a most inse- cure investment. ~The cuances are wofully few that you, your friends, and the for- tune will” all = come together in the future. If you have sny good deeds to do or any happiness to enjoy, to-day is the time. It is only when we are arguing ouwr- selves into the committing of some act. wWhers wo believe the end will justify the means, that it poys to wait till to-morrow. In sucha cate one cannot wait t0o many to-morrows. So now the calls are all made, the new dresses all worn, tho commonplaces all said, and 187¢ ia three daya old,and looks good for 362 days yet. Let us hope that Lis last dsys—like the last daye of all good things—may be more precious than his firet. ‘WircE-HAZEL. BEWARE. ¢ Tt won't do to trust the men."—Fanny Ferns 1t won't do to trust the men ;" That's as true as preaching. They'll tell the old, old story,= Just a3 aweet 0 us to-dsy. As in Eden’s glory. But bewnre | Srongest vows they lightest sever— Fickle ever— Constant never— Beware! . Do you think, because they sa if, Taat they truly love ot Swearing by the earth beneath And the stars above you? Don't you know they've sworn the s3T8. Tizies they could not number— Waking many sn Uncine's soul From unconscious slumbor? But beware! Fickle ever— Constant never— Beware 1 Af you will, within your heart Hoard thie honesed lie ho told yong In tho dusky twilight muse, ‘While love-dreania enfold you Listen for his coming s With the blushes creeping O'er the cheeks that by-snd-by May be paled with weeping. But bewara! : Strongest vows they ightest sever=:. Fickle ever— ‘Coustant never— Hevare! Hearts are trumps, remember thaty 1f the game is worth the winn‘ng;. I it dxn't, throw it up— Trifling s 28 vile as sinnlog. Man's 3 wild bee idly roaming,— You are but the flower From whose heart he sips the swedts ‘That begnile the hour. But beware! Strongest vows they lightest sever— Fickle ever— Constant never— Beare What fo them is honor—truth— ‘Petted s0as of ease and fashion? Wit to them 1 Jove, forsooth, Bat 3 softer namo for paseion? Though s sacred, holy thing ‘Sceia the froth that he bas plighted, Why should he bz true to you Who anotber'a life has blighted? f Beware! Strongost vows they Lightest sever— Fickle ever— Constant never— Bewars! “Trust him not,"—the Gipsy's WaTzing 1s as trus to-day. As when apoken in the wild-wood Leagues and leagues away. Wasto and lons may bo the life ‘That no love has eanctified, Bat 'ts better than to lestn Scorn for him you've deified; 80 beware { Btrongest vows they lghtest sover— Constant never— Fickle ever— Beware! Gaxyer B, Farpus bt i S TR TSR R Y we have since learn- -,