Year: 1878

s'It's very good world we live in,


To lend, or to spend, or to give IN:


But to borrow, or beg, or to come by ones
own,


It's the very worst world that ever was
known"


7 sometimes feel like registering
an oath that I never will say any
thing in commendation of my kind
again. T am gradually coming to
the conclusion that we are a bad
lot, and that if there is not He'll
there ought to be one to be used on
special occasions. In letter only
three OF four weeks ago, [ 7entured
the opinion that perhaps we were
growing better. I take it all back
now; I don't believe a word OF 1t;
in fact I am fully convinced that
we are a good deal worse than l
ever thought we were before, and I
Join with Sir Peter Teazel in the
unqualified opinion that ':lt's o.
wicked world, and the fewer we
praise in it the better


Several weeks ago I mentioned
that there were abuses in connec-
tion with the Bloomingdale Lunatic
Asylum that needed a thorough in
vestigation, and I called upon the
legislators to give additional pow
ers to the board Of examiners, and
then compel them to do their duty.
Unfortunately, our legislators are
too busy looking out for them
selves TO pay much attention to the
demands of humanity the black
horse cavalry has begun its annual
raid on the ferries, the gas and IN
surance companies, and the abuses
of lunatic asylums and hospitals
will have to take a back seat, for,
as Sir Charles Coldstream re-
marked when be looked down into
the crater Of Vesuvius, ''Theres
nothing in it.


It scarcely seems possible that
here, in the great center Of Amerl-
can civilization, with it's hundreds
of churches and charitable assocla
tions, that we should find the ter
rible realization of Charles Reads
story Of Every Hard Cash" Yet
such is the shocking fact that stares
us in the face, that for seven years
woman has been confined IN
mad-house because she had the mis-
fortune to be heiress to one hun
dred and ninety thousand dollars.
Had she been poor she mi ight have
had the blessed privilege Of liberty
she. might have marched up and
down the Bovery and Chatham
street morning and evening, with
the thousands Of poor girls who
exc out their miserable. lives for
two or three dollars a week. She
might have starved respectfully, or
jumped into the East River, like
poor Mary Ka7anah, and no one
outside of the coroner's Office would
have troubled themselves about
her. But Miss Susan Dickie was
an heiress; a hundred and ninety
thousand dollars are not picked up
from every huckleberr7 bush |; so
her dear brothers and sisters
thought that the best place for her
was a mad-house. True, she had
never done anything; but that did
not make any difference. She had
her likes and dislikes, and was not
at all afraid to express them. She
was charitable to the poor, loved
her. friends, and was beloved by
them; but she was guilty of the crime
of having a hundred and ninety
thousand dollars, and that settled
her case. Now, Tam willing to ad-
NIT that if any fellow said I had a
hundred and ninety thousand dol
lars, that it would be good and JUS
tifable grounds for sending him to
a lunatic asylum. But Miss Dlckle
really had the stamps, and her
brothers and sisters wanted to get
them, and so they concluded that
the shortest way Of accomplishing
this laudable purpose was just to
clap her in g mad-house. I could
have suggested much more mer-
ciful way than that; a giant torpe-
do or some nitro-glycerine, Paris
green or Prussic acid; either one
of these would have been equally
effective and much more respectable