New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1880-04-11

glimpse Of the coming within of fashion and fills
his shop with it. IF he is an author his are the
9made books, which nobody can do without ;
his pictures. If he has given himself to art,
are those popular studies of babies and young
mothers at prayer which are first marked
Ssold in exhibition rooms. If he has devoted
his life to science he SEXES the crude invention
of some visionary fellow, gives it practical
use, patents it, and makes his fortune. If he
is physician, he Is always at hand as an ex-
pert on trials you will seldom miss his name
out of the papers. If he is clergyman, he is
always master of the sensation of the hour,
ready to preach upon any subject upon which
the public has temporarily gone mad. 1t really
does not matter to him where the horse goes, so
that he sits astride it. Other men, in short,
tumble sometimes upon good fortune hiding in
the field he lies in wait for it, catches it when
it is latest. He knows how to bide his time
he is Ie chat Qui dOrt
II he happens not to be man, but woman,
you usually find this shrewd hard-headed citizen
thin-lipped, pale-eyed leader of the " best So
"ciety," whether fast and fashionable or sterply
piOus depends altogether on the accident OF
her position. She is usually, however, so inn
maculate as to her own morals as to have no
mercy for any shortcomings in Others. The
New Testament system of charity, in her
opinion, is crude and lax. If she had been
there she would have given the man beset by
thieves q ticket for work to ward committee,
instead of oil and wine; and she would have
handed the Magdaene over to policeman, to
make sure that she sinned no more. This lady
is always known az q capital manager Of SER
wants, seamstresses, church suppers or her sons
wives. She can get an incredible amount of
work for small wages out of the people In her
kitchen. Her neighbors (easy, thriftless crea-
lures, to her mind) look on with envy. Neither
she nor her masculine cOngener has at heart the
slightest faith in any man or woman but them
selves. It is they who can lay an unerfing
finger on the one black spot of character which
your friend keeps hidden, belt freckle or blood
stain. They know human nature. You shall
not humbug them!
The possessions of wealth, of public esteem,
and of ideas of this hard-beaded citizen are oil
so substantial that he is the man whom the
world always enves most. 1t does not love
him probably half 80 much rs some lucklesS
lovable sinful Lazarus starving at his gate
who had not the crumbs from the rich mans
table here, and is not at all sure of Abraham's
bosom hereafter. But what of thatq He has
been shrewd, rational, practical. He has sought
solid goods in the world; money, influence, re-
spect-and he has gained them. As for that
vague cloudy world of love, friendship, imagi-
nation, he knows nothing about it; be has in
vested nothing in it and he expects no divi-
dends. His neighbOr, q widow in rusty black
Zone of the easy, irrational sOrt) gave all of her
labor and thoughts to a sickly husband and son,
who arc now both dead. What improvident
folly that was Now, the most real things in
the world to her are the love they gave her, the
heaven to which they are gone, the God who
cares for her and them. He listens to her as to
a dying man who babbles of green fields that
live only in his fevered fancy. God and heaven
and love are to him only poetic names.
Perhaps, as he nears the end, the withered
little atom Of heart in him stirs feebly and
Graves a late tenderness from some one, a son,
or more often q grandchild 1t is not often
given. Il was not for love he worked Then,
one day, he lies down III the middle of his solid
goods and goes out. They all are left, but he
is gone. His hands yonder must be quite
empty. His fOrlOrn little neighbor is gone too
but people talk with smile of the home which
was ready for her and the friends who were
waiting There arc certainties which Outlast
money or goods upon which our hard-headed
friend did not lay his hand