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[for the Richmond Dispatch.]
Grumblers and fault-finders.

There are some persons in this curious world of ours who, if not allowed to talk a great deal, would in time most assuredly burst. It is painfully amusing to see such persons, either sitting in the parlor or standing around the hotel doors, or in their counting-rooms, deliberately discussing the acts and finding fault with the sayings and doings of their superiors — superiors in thought, word, and deed. My fault-finding friends, did the thought never come into your comprehensive and all-discerning minds that it is an easy and delightful task to fight a battle in the parlor, on win a splendid victory around the festive board? Or have you never observed how clearly any one can see a thing after it has happened? Try to remember that the men whose acts you find fault with, and about whom you gabble so much, have as much interest in the country, and have as much at stake as you or I have, and if they are not as well qualified as they ought to be, and have not the perspicuity and forethought that you have, your fault-findings and your mutterings can never make them better. Cease grumbling, then. Don't talk so much, but do. If there are evils to be removed — and we know there are, abuses to be corrected — and where will you not find them, except in ourselves — then your duty, and mine is, to talk less, and to put our shoulders to the ponderous wheels of the governmental car and help to move it on over the rough and difficult road it is compelled to travel. My warm-blooded friends, and all those of a nervous temperament who stand in danger of exploding unless relieved by talking and grumbling, we advise you to save your redundancy of steam-power — turn it into a different channel, and make it available for your own strength and locomotion, instead of blowing it off and wasting it in the faces of other people.

How grand and self-important it makes one feel to know that the world we live in will still turn round; that the sun will continue to rise and set; that battles will be fought and victories won, and that the complicated machinery of Government will move on as usual; and all done, notwithstanding our fault-finding, talking, and grumbling. The story of a certain winged insect on the horn of a quadruped, will furnish us all a very useful lesson on our imaginary importance and greatness. Culex.

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