The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-10-27

1 Oh, yes, there Is need OF urgent action. What
shah he dof Suicide? they viii find the
body--the busy paragraphists, the idle gazers-
| oh, no, no! And, moreover, there IS something
beyond something to be shudderinsly avoided.
DO You know, besides, would you believe,
that this man, damned as he is, and outlawed
1 yet hopes for q chance that may save him, We,
dreams of something he may clutch at to re.
deem his foundered name ere the waters quite
overwhelm i'll While there is breath enough
to sully mirror, man hopes still, builds for
himself of fancies,
- " Born for the future, TO the future LOST
Soto fee. Money, much money, still remains.
He is great fnancier-a pilot skilled in all
] the depths and shadows of that coast. Some
sudden chance may open-may be seized
Then, up again-old scores wiped of-a new
polish to the shield-if it do not recover ali its
pristine brightness, it may STILL with the Medusa
power, strike dumb the voice of calumny; and,
restitution being made, we ourselves are salts.
fed. Was not Caesar worse than bankrupt
when he came from Gaul-and, yet, how much
bequeathed be, dying, to his dear Romans /?
Then, again, even if the blot cannot be wiped
ont, we may still do something. Catiline the de-
faulter is forever forgotten in Catiline the con-
spirator. Other chimes, other fortunes. Even
Arnold, cursed Arnold, died wealthy and q
|
let us fee.
And, withal, despite his deeds, the man IS
q man, and has human affections. There is his
family, and he loves them, though he has snug.
gted them out of sight through long years.
What fortunate thing, that prejudice for which
he has so often taken himself to taskl Now, save
| that patient, enduring wife-God bless her i
they do not know him. They are living abroad.
! They do not bear his name. He will take theirs.
He will call them to him. He will make them
happy. Perhaps, through all the Clouds there
will come down yet an occasional brief ray OF
sunshine for him, tempering his bitterness with
mercy. Flight, then, at once.
/ At PRESENT. is about one o'clock of the
earthquake-day, and before very long, the ru.
mors must begin to get abroad, he knows very
well-at present, the grand necessity is to get
| away from Wall street-to hide. Out stalks
sel-from his office, and hats are DOTTED to him
in every direction. Away from Wall street
! but whittier? 1t is hard enough matter to
disguise Beale Lloyd in the New York World,
for he is par. of it, as much part of it, men
now think, as yonder brown spire of Trinity.
They will not think so, tomorrow. They will
deny even that they have thought so to-day.
To Broadway-and be who usually walks
with such firm, decided step, now hestates.
Yet it is not time to waver. Down there the
hounds are ready to be unleashed, and the trail
will not be a cold one, by any means. Yet no
wonder he wavers, for whittier, whittier, whittier
is the agonizing question with which his soul is
torturing itself. This giant, this obelisk, this
point of admiration to all, this high statue,
| pitched far above the desert level, which chal-
lenged once the world
"My name is ozymandias King of ngs;
| Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair"
this has not now one single friend to
whom he can go, upon whom he can lean
Shall we withhold our pity from desolation so
complete? None to trust-all to fear-no
friend left-not even God if He be simply Just
A wreck, indeed,
Round whose decay"
says the poet,
| "Bcundless and bare,
| The lone and level sands stretch far away"
:" Servant, sir, Mr.. Lloyd. Hope j sees yoa
very we'll this fine day, sir"
Ii is negro man simply, a rough laborer,
half sailor half hod- carrier, and Mr.. Lloyd only
knows him by the name of George" Going
up Broadway, and meeting him at the corner
of Courtandt street.
Well, George good day. Stop, George,
want to speak to you"
A thought comes flashing into his mind like
the first light to newborn infants eyes. He
stops carriage that is passing, and, as it draws
up to the curbstone, he says:
!" / wish to speak with you, George. No
put your hat on again-not here. / want you
to ride with me little piece. Here, get int
the coach, not ontop. There. Driver, take @
side street, and drive up town-rapidly."
Mr.. Lloyd takes the back seat. George tim
idly places himself opposite, wondering and
frightened. The last time he rode in hack
he went to the Tombs. Is Mr.. Lloyd angry
with him, and going to send him thither again
George has such an Idea of the bankers ON
Impotence, that he is certain Mr.. Lloyd has only
to say the word, and the lowest dungeon vii
close its door upon him forever. He takes hi
hat off again, and this time he is not told to re
place it. His forehead glistens with sweat.
The banker begins, and George, attentive, i.
treasured by the first words: George, have
favor to ask of yeu."
Jupiter chatting with Bancis and Philemon
81 reckon not, sir" says George, very posi-
lively.
why SO, George?"
"No such good luck for DIS, Mr.. Lloyd. You
is one O. them kind as does all the fayors your
self, and won't take no pay for it."
THAT day is past now, George. My turn
has come to look out for favors, and no return
is in my power. Put up that window; tn,
driver may be listening. Now, George, | an
going to trust you in matter where l will moi
trust my own brother"
$50 you kin, sir. Meb-be you never holpet
your brother same as you did me, you know"
"Ah, then--you remember that trife ~
!. George grew excited: "No, sar, twarn't that
'Twarn't beca'se you paid the doctors bill fo
the broken leg, at all, no how. That there
though it did holp me nightly, was but trile
for you, as you was gwine on for TO say. Blu
what rarat a trife, sir, was that you, de grea
Mr. Lloyd, the man what his minutes they sa,
is with dollars to him, thinked enough Of the
poo darkey Teller to come and see him, and a,
how his health was gittin'. Thar was il, sir
That. ar's the kind O. things as amt trifes, ne
how you kin fix it. Good many people chucl
money at you, like it was corn bread to the
{ hounds, and they gifts small thanks for dom it
, But you don't do it that way. You puts d.
seasonin' to de SOUP"
With which figure, borrowed from his ca
boose experiences, probably, George was silent
watching Mr.. Lloyd, in whose eyes light o
hope began to blaze up brightly.
\ "well, George, will trust you. Listen at
tentively, now. Suppose were to tell you tina
!, am a bankrupt; that have not cent in the
world that in an hour, people will be in search
, of me, to bear me off to prison that if | an
caught, it will kill me ; that, finally, have no
: friend to turn toll" Mr.. Lloyd eyed Georg,
very closely while he spoke.
"Broke9 no moneys phewl" whistled he
; no money, no friends, dey do say. You've go
, your watch and chain, though. Oars Lev
Benjamin, lends money on dem, round the
corner from de old womans shop. But gosh
that airs no money to you. Phew! Broken
/. Well, it's mighty hard case, sir," said George
pondering seriously, and not knowing exactly
how to express his sympathies.