, 1875-11-28

opinion as to the imperative duty OF the City
| Government in this matter.
TWO HEN: 4 CONTRAST.
| WILLIAM 3. Asron, Of New York, who wns
born millionaire and lived miser is dead.
HENRY f. TAx1oR, Of Chicago, who was born
! preceded him by few days into ths Unknown
| Land upon which only eyes once closed by
death can open There Was certain marked
| contrast between these two men, which it is
| worth while to point out.
WILLIAM B. Aston inherited $20, 600. GOO
upon his fathers death. That sum, in fact,
was presented to him by the people of New
York. The right of bequest is purely arti-
fetal one, and not natural right It
ia one which has no existence outside the
pale Of the law. When man dies, every
natural right over his property dies with him.
But the law, from motives Of public policy,
permits the dead hand to still clutch its
whilom wealth and distribute it as the
dead brain once wi1led. Thanks to
this, and to this only, AsToE got his
| $50, ,000, 900 q quarter Of century ago. He
has done nothing to repay the people to
whom he owes this vast gift His whole life
has been spent in adding million to million.
He has wrung the last cent from his 1850
tenants, has drawn mo1ey from some Of the
foulest tenoments that reek in their rotten
ness on New York alleys, has clutched with
shaking hands ct gold. He leaves behind
him, still subject to his miser's grasp, $780,
00O, 600, two-thirds Of which is in real estate
that viii probably be worth, within ten
yenzs, twice what it is now The $130, GOO 900
he has added to the bequest which the people
of New York allowed his father to bestow upon
him is mostly what English economists call
the "unearned increment" He did nothing
to get it. The talent, the skill, the capi-
tai, the labor, concentrated in the
metropolis, have increased, year after year,
the value of AsroE's lots and rentals without
his doing solitary thing, His colossal for
tune, both the bequest and the increment,
was given him by public consent, expressed
in the laws Of the State Of New York 1t Was
the largest unincumbered fortune in Christen-
dom. No entail fettered it. No charges
crippled his disposal Of it. It was absolutely
his by law. It was equivalent to 1000 for
tunes Of $l50,00c each, SO that this one grim
old money -grabber had one Thousand times
the money that would have amply provided
mmseH and his family with every comfort
and every reasonable luxury. He held it all
by public consent, and most Of it was in fact
a donation from the people. What has he
done for tho public in return? Practically
nothing. There are millions of Americans
who have been infinitely more generous than
this CRGsus Aston He gave few pitiful
thousands to the library founded by his father
and that bears his family name The whole
sum probably did not amount to weeks in
come Yet this is pretty much all that pane
gyrista can fnd about which to sound his
praise He dies worth $3.50, 000, 900, gold
value, Jet deeply indebted to the world, and
dies without discharging scarcely penny Of
his debt.
Vice-Presidont WILSON lived for his kind
and his country, and died poor. He'd he lived
for himself, he might have died O millionaire.
The sorrow and esteem Of nation follow
HEsEx WILSON to his grave. The nation is
his debtor. The debt is his monument.
AsToR had it in his power to build the
grandest monument of private munifcence
the world has ever seen, and yet have left
his family with super~ample provision for
their every luxury. The income Of the frag-
ment of his s4th year, since September, has
been enough to enrich all those with natural
claims upon him. What could not this man,
with an income of million . month for
many years, have done? He might have
almost abolished the poverty Of honest men
upon the Island OF Manhattan; he might |
have grappled with sin far more sue
cessfully than the State can ever hope
to do; he might have freed Thousands Of |
honest men and women and helpless children |
from the kindred curses Of hunger and cold,
have satisfied the pinched belly, and clothed |
the shiyering bacl- He might have founded |
in New York the most renowned seat OF learn !
ing in the world,-a university before which |
Oxford and Berlin would pale, school that |
would have drawn scholars from every part |
of the globe, and made our commercial me- |
tropolis new Alexandria. Magnificent |
glorious art~galleries, the vastest t
library in the world,-all Of these were within |
tie compass of tnat colossal fortune. He |
might thus have lived in the memory Of the
whole world until the archangel blows his
trump. But, with diabolic selfishness, he
sacrificed his fame to his miserly folly. Tha |
good TINT might have been is not to be. Hia I
ton, an aged man who already has one foot |
In The krays, clutches tho tz&nsf1duo4 w&A3th F