Communipaw [James McCune Smith] to Frederick Douglass, April 23, 1859

FROM OUR NEW YORK CORRESPONDENT.

MR. EDITOR:—New York is on the eve of May-ing. "The migration or importation of persons into new houses, new stores, old houses, old stores, new shanties, old shanties, is carried on with a vigor and earnestness that distances all other nomadic tribes on the face of the earth. Instead of simply striking our tents, we pull the house to pieces, often pull it down altogether to make room for another to entre, or another house or store to be built. In all these movements as in the one described in the most melodious of Latin poems—

"Dux foemina facti;"

a man is "no where," except to run of errands, mind the baby, or lift the heavy furniture. All the women become strong-minded. They "take to it" as naturally as the ducks to the nearest pond. It is a splendid chance to "study character." Fortunately with this individual, it is but a memory; yet a most vivid one. Two or three years after our "agreement for better for worse"—and by the way I think the New York girls make a mental reservation in the "obey" in regard to the first of May—and while she was yet a slender personage and meek, in her teens, Mrs. Communipaw and I concluded to "move" on May-day. Ah, if you had seen me, Mr. Editor! With number one in the right arm, number two in my left, (he is now a stout boy "doing" quadratics,) a large flexible handled basket full of things slung round my neck in front, and a tin pail ditto ditto on the opposite side, you would have seen a picture indeed; the "missus" did not say much; I fell into the traces at once—but it took me some three years to recover my dignity, and we have not moved since. I knew one poor fellow, quiescat in pace! splendid, resolute and gritty,

with the meekest of little wives; he undertook to rebel one May-day, in the midst of moving; well, his better half contrived to move every year, the third year he was utterly subdued, on the fourth he died broken-hearted.

I don't know that it is very wise in me to put all this into pint; some shrewish women of the provinces may be induced to coax their better halves into town for the purpose of "breaking them in."

There seems to be method in New York moving: like the nomads of the steppes of Asia, they live in a certain spot until they exhaust its electricity, its fodder, or its Od-dic force, then they "flit" to another, and so on. I have been trying to get the elements of which Gothamites move, in order to puzzle that incarnation of x [&?] y Karl Reason, but have not yet succeeded.

One immediate result of moving in a certain direction is undoubtedly to increase the value of property in the spot move to, and to diminish the value of the property in the place moved from. For example: fifteen or twenty years ago, when Arthur Tappan, Esq., transacted business at 122 Pearl Street, his store could have rented for $3,000 per year, now it will not command $1,000. Five years ago, when Broadway, below Wall Street, was torn down to make room for stores, the owner of one of those stores (a splendid structure) exchanged it for a lot on the block where the old Tabernacle stood; allowing twenty thousand dollars for the said lot, and getting fifty thousand for his store, retaining a mortgage of some thirty thousand dollars; to-day, the Tabernacle lot is worth ninety thousand dollars, while the the lot and store down Broadway is not worth the mortgage!

By this change in the value of property, immense fortunes can be made, if the formula I have alluded to could be constructed; there is, I rather think, no permanent value to be attached to any given lot, not even in Broadway. So, no man can in this city leave a fortune to young children in real estate; the chances being that ten or fifteen years

will change the value so as to baffle all calculation—they may become millionaires, they may become beggars.

And this leads to the consideration, whether there be any permanent values in the assets afforded in this land. Railways, Banks Government and State stocks, what are they really worth? Insurance companies pay the best dividends, but they are becoming so numerous, and emulate each other so vigorously in offering low rates, that they must either burst, or cheat, and at an early day; it is not in the nature of things that stout gentlemen, on the shady side of fifty, should, in large numbers receive from three to five thousand per year for affixing their names to policies of insurance.

The largest fortunes, I believe, are made upon mortgages; seven per cent. per annum is the constant quantity which in the end accumulates more money than any of the fluctuating modes I have mentioned. Some years ago, John Jacob Astor said, that if he had his life to live over again, he could own the entire city of New York, by simply putting out his money, some twenty millions of dollars, at seven per cent., and re-investing the accrueing interest. A legal friend, doubting the statement, made the calculation, placing the sum named at compound interest; to his surprise, he found that in sixty years it amounted to the same sum as the valuation of the taxable property in the States of New York and Pennsylvania in 1840!

This seven per cent. per annum has built up Wall Street; the banks and the insurance offices obtain only seven per cent. on their capital directly, (and seven more say you on the notes they discount.) The savings banks, whose wealth after all is the greatest, receive seven per cent. on their loans, and pay from four to six on their deposits, and out of the difference pay heavy current expenses, and erect palaces to transact business in.

If our young men, therefore, have a few dollars "over," let them not invest that in "town lots," or in partly paid for real estate

of any kind, but let them seek some snug little house whose owner wants to borrow on first mortgage at seven per cent., and lend the money on such mortgage; and when the interest is paid, salt that down until with other savings there is enough for a second loan; in this way money accumulates safely, and with proper thrift, a competence will be easily secured. Other modes of making money may have more glitter, but none have the same sureness.

But, to return to the fluctuating value of other sureties, real estates, stocks, &c. I do not know that we should regret that these values do fluctuate. It is a blessing, rather than otherwise, that things are so fixed, that wealth must be transient in our land; this makes work permanent therein, and universal, thus fulfilling the normal destiny of man.

Did you read this morning's Tribune?—What a glorious combat between Henry James and Horace Greeley! How delicious is Mr. James' remark to Mr. Greeley, "you are not a stupid man," &c. I have often thought that Horace was a stupid man, but did not exactly like to say so. It is no use in Mr. Greeley trying to entrench himself behind the Dictionary, Henry James will hunt him out of that, or "there are no snakes in old Virginny."

By the way, our friend of the Tribune has taken quite a pious turn of late. The other evening, in Shiloh Church, he advocated emigration as a divinely appointed method to spread civilization; and a few evenings afterwards at one of Dr. Cheever's great meetings, he announced a movement to form a church based on anti-slavery principles, or to overthrow slavery, I forget which. Who knows but thte old white coat may be exchanged for a clean linen surplice? If clergymen, such as Everett and Palfrey, can turn politicians, why shoudl not the politicians turn clergymen?

I am somewhat amused at Philo's attack on "Dutch Gallantry," as it reminds me of the Tribune's saying, "that he touched himself

off before he was loaded." In my postscript which he criticizes, I did not censure, but simply dissented from his assault on a lady.—I would respectfully submit that to dissent is one thing, to censure is another thing.

Yours, very truly,

COMMUNIPAW.

NEW YORK, April 23d, 1859.