ering in the moonlight, and the
quiet streets deserted by all but the watchmen on their chilly rounds,
and such poor souls as wandered shelterless in the winter night.
Presently one of the spirits said, in a tone, which, low as it was,
filled the belfry with reverberating echoes,--

"Well, brothers, are your reports ready of the year that now lies
dying?"

All bowed their heads, and one of the oldest answered in a sonorous
voice:--

"My report isn't all I could wish. You know I look down on the
commercial part of our city and have fine opportunities for seeing
what goes on there. It's my business to watch the business men, and
upon my word I'm heartily ashamed of them sometimes. During the war
they did nobly, giving their time and money, their sons and selves to
the good cause, and I was proud of them. But now too many of them have
fallen back into the old ways, and their motto seems to be, 'Every one
for himself, and the devil take the hindmost.' Cheating, lying and
stealing are hard words, and I don't mean to apply them to _all_ who
swarm about below there like ants on an ant-hill--_they_ have other
names for these things, but I'm old-fashioned and use plain words.
There's a deal too much dishonesty in the world, and business seems to
have become a game of hazard in which luck, not labor, wins the prize.
When I was young, men were years making moderate fortunes, and were
satisfied with them. They built them on sure foundations, knew how to
enjoy them while they lived, and to leave a good name behind them when
they died.

"Now it's anything for money; health, happiness, honor, life itself,
are flung down on that great gaming-table, and they forget everything
else in the excitement of success or the desperation of defeat. Nobody
seems satisfied either, for those who win have little time or taste
to enjoy their prosperity, and those who lose have little courage or
patience to support them in adversity. They don't even fail as they
used to. In my day when a merchant found himself embarrassed he didn't
ruin others in order to save himself, but honestly confessed the
truth, gave up everything, and began again. But now-a-days after all
manner of dishonorable shifts there comes a grand crash; many suffer,
but by some hocus-pocus the merchant saves enough to retire upon and
live comfortably here or abroad. It's very evident that honor and
honesty don't mean now what they used to mean in the days of old May,
Higginson and