city cries for more houses and spreads reluctantly to its outskirts—clearly he is without public spirit. That communism which calls on a citizen to share evenly with the public, is stupid; but at least we may expect him not to use wealth to the public detriment, and, certainly, it must depreciate a neighborhood that such a man owns unimproved property there. With such results, it would be better that no colossal fortunes should be inherited, and that the land of the municipality should be held by men who have leisure to build as well as buy, and who, though with moderate means, aim to make each piece of property yield its highest value. In a neighboring city, a merchant dying and leaving his great wealth in trust for his heirs, it was invested in building blocks as solid and splendid as they are useful to the city and profitable. A public-spirited man usually knows how to benefit the Commonwealth without crippling his fortune; and even when his motive is not the finest, it is at least a grade above narrow selfishness, and generally comes in part from a consciousness of public duty as well as love of applause.
Of course, not all heirs of large fortunes are to make the business of life, like De Montyon, the establishment of charities; but, at least, there is field enough in America for the noble employment of wealth and leisure, without playing the miser, killing vacant years, aimlessly flying from ennui around the globe, or drowning the dullness of life in dissipation. Society here is so young as to be full of needs, and the state so democratic as to be full of abuses. In large cities, the public service is partially surrendered, perforce, to public burglars, or to such as use public trusts simply for private ends. Many public charities are shamefully mismanaged, and, for the lack of worthy supervision, fall into the hands of men who traffic in suffering and coin money from the comforts of which they rob the needy. Frauds and knaveries flourish always, everywhere, in all parties. To organize some new charity, or extend and systematize some old one; to lend a hand to some worthy enterprise—civic, commercial, financial, scientific; to befriend sound literature, true art and useful invention; to aid the poor by some such grand project as the model lodging-house, as only the rich can do; to forward the reforms which social science suggests in schools, prisons, asylums, hospitals—in short, it is impossible to catalogue in detail the thousand services to which the wealth and leisure of an educated man may be worthily devoted. The days of practical business benevolence are here, and yet those of chivalry seem not to be over—even though we may not formally knight Sir Henry Bergh.
In 1861, there was a memorable display of what services the wealth of public-spirited citizens can render in a republic. It raised and equipped regiments, furnished "sinews of war" to the public defence and comforts to the camp and hospital, provided soldiers' homes for the wounded, and in a myriad patriotic and humane ways made its presence manifest. We saw, also, men who had generally stood aloof from public affairs, combining to give the highest tone to public sentiment. Opportunities for public and patriotic devotion did not end with the war, either for rich or poor; but it is hard to feel the intense personal responsibility of 1861. The other day a young gentleman was complaining that, doing all he could, he only got rid of half his income. If he had been called upon to aid some noble charity, he would probably have been the poorest man in New York.
American youth of fortune are probably as public-spirited by nature as those of the Old World; but the responsibilities of wealth have been weighed more carefully there, because for ages it has been unequally distributed, and great estates have been entailed from sire to son. With us vast family inheritances have hitherto been comparatively rare, so that less public attention has been directed upon them as an element in society and the State. And, besides, the vicissitudes of wealth have not always warranted the rich in counting upon the stability of their fortunes. But not less honorable and useful than in the Old World are the careers open to the inheritors of wealth in America.
