of wealthy idlers who draw their money from trade began to make the stream of lavish expenditure turn into a series of rushing rapids.  The flow of wasted wealth is no longer like the equable gliding of the full Thames; it is like the long deadly flurry of the waters that bears toward Niagara.  These newly-enriched people cause the rise of the usual crop of parasites, and it is the study of the parasites which forces on the mind hundreds of reflections concerning the values of different kinds of labour.  A little while ago, for example, an exquisitely comic paragraph was printed with all innocence in many journals.  It appeared that two of the revived species of parasites known as professional pugilists were unable to dress properly before they began knocking each other about, “because their valets were not on the spot.”  I hope that the foul old days of the villainous “ring” may never be recalled by anything seen in our day, for there never were any “palmy days,” though there were some ruffians who could not be bought.  Yet the worst things that happened in the bygone times were not so much fitted to make a man think solemnly as that one delicious phrase—­“their valets were not on the spot.”  In the noble days, when England was so very merry, it often happened that a man who has been battered out of all resemblance to humanity was left to dress himself as best he could on a bleak marsh, and his chivalrous friends made the best of their way home, while the defeated gladiator was reckoned at a dog’s value.  Now-a-days those sorely-entreated creatures would have their valets.  In one department of industry assuredly the value of labour has altered.  The very best of the brutal old school once fought desperately for four hours, though it was thought that he must be killed, and his reason was that, if he lost, he would have to beg his bread.  Now-a-days he would have a valet, a secretary, a manager, and a crowd of plutocratic admirers who would load him with money and luxuries.  I was tickled to the verge of laughter by finding that one of these gentry was paid thirty pounds per night for exhibiting his skill, and my amusement was increased when it turned out that one of those who paid him thirty pounds strongly objected on learning that the hero appeared at two other places, from each of which he received the same sum.  Thus for thirty-six minutes of exertion per day the man was drawing five hundred and forty pounds per week.  All these things appeared in the public prints; but no public writer took any serious notice of a symptom which is as significant as any ever observed in the history of mankind.  It is almost awe-striking to contemplate these parasites, and think what their rank luxurious existence portends.  Here we see a man of vast wealth, whereof every pound was squeezed from the blood and toil of working-men; he passes his time now in the company of these fellows who have earned a reputation by pounding each other.  The wealthy bully and his hangers-on are dangerous