ASTOUNDING EVENT—SUSPENSION OF SPECIE PAYMENTS—PROCEEDINGS OF THE BANK OF QUODLIBET THEREUPON—RESOLVE OF THE DIRECTORS AGAINST SUSPENSION—CONSPIRACY AND THREATENED REVOLUTION HEADED BY FLAN. SUCKER—DIRECTORS CHANGE THEIR MIND—THEIR CONSTERNATION AND ESCAPE—REMARKABLE BRAVERY AND PRESENCE OF MIND OF THE HON. MIDDLETON FLAM—HIS SPLENDID APPEAL TO THE INSURGENTS—GENERAL JACKSON'S ORACULAR VIEWS IN REGARD TO THE SUSPENSION.

Proh hominum fidem!

It falls to my lot, at this stage of my history, to be constrained to record an event the most astounding, the most awful, the most unexpected, the most treacherous, the most ungrateful, the most flagitious—yea, the most supereminently flagitious,—that the history of mankind affords. Notwithstanding that laudatory and political ejaculation which the Hero and Sage breathed out in the evening of his brilliant career, like the last notes of the swan, "I leave this great people prosperous and happy"—notwithstanding that flattering canzonet, with which he who pledges himself to walk in the Hero and Sage's footsteps, began his illustrious course, singing as it were the morning carol of the lark—"we present an aggregate of human prosperity surely not elsewhere to be found"—the echo of these sweet sounds had not died away upon the tympana of our ravished ears, before these banks—these gentle pet banks—these fostered, favored, sugar-plum and candy-fed pet banks, with all their troop of plethoric and pampered paragon sister banks, one and all, without one pang of remorse, without one word of warning, without even, as far as we could see, one tingle of a suppressed and struggling blush, incontinently suspended specie payments!! O curas hominum! Quantum est in rebus inane!

Shall I tell it? Even the Patriotic Copperplate Bank of Quodlibet was compelled to follow in this faithless path. Not at once, I confess—not off-hand, and with such malice prepense as the others—for Nicodemus Handy had a soul above such black ingratitude—but after a pause, and, let the truth be told in extenuation, because he could not help it.

The Hon. Middleton Flam was sent for upon the first tidings of this extraordinary kicking in the traces by these high-mettled institutions—tidings which reached Quodlibet, via the canal, about eleven o'clock one morning in May. The Directors were summoned into council. What was to be done? was the general question. Anthony Hardbottle, of the firm of Barndollar & Hardbottle—a grave man and a thoughtful; a man without flash, who seldom smiles—a lean man, hard favored and simple in his outgoings and incomings; a man, who has never sported, as long as I have known him, any other coat than that snuff-brown with covered buttons, and who does not wear out above one pair of shoes in a year; a man who could never be persuaded to give so far into the times as to put on a black cravat, but has always stuck to the white:—such a man, it may be easily imagined, was not to be carried away by new-fangled notions:—he was there at the Board, in place of Theodore Fog, who was compelled two years before to withdraw his name as a candidate for re-election. This same Anthony Hardbottle, speaking under the dictates of that cautious wisdom natural to him as a merchant, answered this question of What was to be done?—by another equally laconic and pregnant with meaning——

"How much cash have we on hand?"

"One hundred and seven dollars and thirty-seven and a half cents in silver," replied Nicodemus, "and five half eagles in gold, which were brought here by our honorable President and placed on deposit, after he had used them in the last election for the purpose of showing the people what an admirable currency we were to have, as soon as Mr. Benton should succeed in making it float up the stream of the Mississippi."

Again asked Anthony Hardbottle, "What circulation have you abroad?"

"Six hundred thousand dollars," replied Nicodemus, "and a trifle over."

"Then," said Anthony, "I think we had better suspend with the rest."

"Never," said the Hon. Middleton Flam, rising from his seat and thumping the table violently with his hand. "Never, sir, while I am President of this bank, and there is a shot in the locker."

"Bravo—well said, admirably said, spoke as a Quodlibetarian ought to speak!" shouted Dr. Thomas G. Winkleman, the keeper of the soda-water Pavilion; "I have fifteen dollars in five-penny bits; they are at the service of the Board, and while I hold a piece of coin, the Patriotic Copperplate Bank shall never be subjected to the reproach of being unable to meet its obligations. Anthony Hardbottle, as a Democrat I am surprised at you."

"I can't help it," replied Anthony; "in my opinion, our issues are larger than our means."

"How larger, sir?" demanded Mr. Snuffers, the President of the New Light, with some asperity of tone.—"Haven't we a batch of bran-new notes, just signed and ready for delivery? Redeem the old ones with new. Why should we suspend?"

"Gentlemen, I will put the question to the Board," interposed Mr. Flam, fearful lest a quarrel might arise, if the debate continued. "Shall this bank suspend specie payments? Those in favor of this iniquitous proposition will say Ay."

No one answered. Anthony Hardbottle was intimidated by the President's stern manner.

"Those opposed to it will say No."

"No!" was the universal acclamation of the Board, with the exception of Anthony Hardbottle who did not open his lips.

"Thank you, gentlemen," said Mr. Flam, "for this generous support. I should have been compelled by the adoption of this proposition, much as I esteem this Board, much as I value your good opinion, to have returned the commission with which you have honored me as your President. Our country first, and then ourselves! The Democracy of Quodlibet never will suspend!"

At this moment confused noises were heard in the banking-room, which adjoined that in which the Directors were convened. Mr. Handy immediately sprang from his chair and went into this apartment.

There stood about thirty persons, principally boatmen from the canal. At their head, some paces advanced into the bank, was Flanigan Sucker. One sleeve of Flan's coat was torn open from the shoulder to the wrist; his shirt, of a very indefinite complexion, was open at the breast, disclosing the shaggy mat of hair that adorned this part of his person; his corduroy trowsers had but one suspender to keep them up, thus giving them rather a lop-sided set. His face was fiery-red; and his hat, which was considerably frayed at the brim, was drawn over one ear, and left uncovered a large portion of his forehead and crown which were embellished by wild elf locks of carroty hue.

"Nicodemus," said Flan. as soon as the Cashier made his appearance, "we have come to make a run upon the bank:—they say you've bursted your biler." Then turning to the crowd behind him, he shouted, "Growl, Tigers!—Yip! yip! Hurra!"

As Flan. yelled out these words, a strange muttering sound broke forth from the multitude.

"What put into your drunken noddle that we have broke?" inquired Mr. Handy, with great composure, as soon as silence was restored.

"Nim Porter ses, Nicodemus, that you're a gone horse, and that if you ain't busted up, you will be before night. So we have determined on a run."

Nim Porter, who was standing in the rear of the crowd, where he had come to see how matters were going on, now stepped forward. Nim is the fattest man in Quodlibet, and besides, is the most dressy and good-natured man we have. On this occasion there he stood with a stiff starched linen roundabout jacket on, as white as the driven snow, with white drilling pantaloons just from the washerwoman, and the most strutting ruffle to his shirt that could have been manufactured out of cambric. In all points he was unlike the crowd of persons who occupied the room. "I said nothing of the sort—" was Nim's reply—"and I am willing now to bet ten to one that he can't produce a man here to say I said so."

"What's the odds!" cried Flan; "Nicodemus, we are resolved upon a run—so shell out!"

"Begin when it suits you," said Mr. Handy. "Let me have your note, and I will give you either silver or gold as you choose."

"You don't catch me that way," shouted Flan., with a drunken grimace. "Notes is not in my line—shell out anyhow. We have determined on a run—a genuine, dimmycratic sortie."

"Have you none of our paper?" again inquired Mr. Handy.

"Not a shaving, Nicodemus," replied Flan. "What's the odds?"

"But I have," said a big, squinting boatman, as he walked up to our Cashier, and untied his leather wallet. "There's sixty dollars, and I'll thank you for the cash.

"And I have twenty-five more," cried out another.

"And I twice twenty-five," said a gruff voice from the midst of the crowd.

All this time the number of persons outside was increasing, and very profane swearing was heard about the door. Mr. Handy stepped to the window to get a view of the assemblage, and seeing that nearly all the movable part of Quodlibet was gathering in front of the building, he retired with some trepidation into the Directors' room, and informed Mr. Flam and the Board of what was going on. They had a pretty good suspicion of this before Mr. Handy returned, for they had distinctly heard the uproar. Mr. Handy no sooner communicated the fact to them, than Mr. Flam, with considerable perturbation in his looks, rose and declared that Quodlibet was in a state of insurrection; and, as every one must be aware, that in the midst of a revolution no bank could be expected to pay specie, he moved, in consideration of this menacing state of affairs, that the Patriotic Copperplate Bank of Quodlibet suspend specie payments forthwith, and continue the same until such time as the re-establishment of the public peace should authorize a resumption. This motion was gratefully received by the Board, and carried without a division. During this interval, the conspirators having learned, through their leader, Flan. Sucker, that the Hon. Middleton Flam was in the house, forthwith set up a violent shouting for that distinguished gentleman to appear at the door. It was some moments before our representative was willing to obey this summons: the Board of Directors were thrown into a panic, and with great expedition got out of the back window into the yard, and made their escape—thus leaving the indomitable and unflinching President of the bank, a man of lion heart, alone in the apartment; while the yells and shouts of the multitude were ringing in his ears with awful reduplication. He was not at a loss to perform his duty, but, with a dignified and stately movement, stalked into the banking-room, approached the window that looked upon the street, threw it open, and gave himself in full view to the multitude.

There was a dreadful pause; a scowl sat upon every brow; a muttering silence prevailed. As Tacitus says: "Non tumultus, non quies, sed quale magni metus, et magnÆ irÆ silentium est." Mr. Flam raised his arm, and spoke in this strain:—

"Men of Quodlibet, what madness has seized upon you? Do you assemble in front of this edifice to make the day hideous with howling? Is it to insult Nicodemus Handy, a worthy New Light, or is it to affright the universe by pulling down these walls? Shame on you, men of Quodlibet! If you have a vengeance to wreak, do not inflict it upon us. Go to the Whigs, the authors of our misfortune. They have brought these things upon us. Year after year have we been struggling to give you a constitutional currency—the real Jackson gold——"

"Three cheers for Middleton Flam!" cried out twenty voices, and straightway the cheers ascended on the air; and in the midst was heard a well-known voice, "Yip! yip!—Go it, Middleton!"

"Yes, my friends," proceeded the orator, "while we have been laboring to give you the solid metals; while we have been fighting against this PAPER-MONEY PARTY, and have devoted all our energies to the endeavor to prostrate the influence of these RAG BARONS, these MONOPOLISTS, THESE CHAMPIONS OF VESTED RIGHTS AND CHARTERED PRIVILEGES, the Whigs—we have been foiled at every turn by the power of their unholy combinations of associated wealth. They have filled your land with banks, and have brought upon us all the curses of over-trading and over-speculating, until the people are literally on their faces at the footstool of the Money Power. (Tremendous cheering.) Our course has been resolute and unwaveringly patriotic. We have stood in the breach and met the storm; but all without avail. Between the rich and the poor lies a mighty gulf. The rich man has, the poor man wants. Of that which the rich hath, does he give to the poor? Answer me, men of Quodlibet."

"No!" arose, deep-toned, from every throat.

"Then our course is plain. Poor men, one and all, rally round our Democratic banner. Let the aristocrats know and feel that you will not bear this tyranny."

"We will," shouted Flan. Sucker. "Go it, Middleton!"

"Gentlemen," continued Mr. Flam, "this bank of ours is purely Democratic. It is an exception to all other banks; it is emphatically the poor man's friend: nothing can exceed the skill and caution with which it has been conducted. Would that all other banks were like it! We have, comparatively, but a small issue of paper afloat; we have a large supply of specie. You perceive, therefore, that we fear no run. You all saw with what alacrity our Cashier proffered to redeem whatever amount our respectable fellow-citizen, that excellent Democrat, Mr. Flanigan Sucker, might demand. (Cheers, and a cry of 'Yip!') Mr. Sucker was satisfied, and did not desire to burden himself with specie. Gentlemen, depend upon me. When there is danger, if such a thing could be to this New-Light Democratic bank, I will be the first to give you warning. (Cheers, and 'Hurrah for Flam.') Born with an instinctive love of the people, I should be the vilest of men, if I could ever forget my duty to them. (Immense cheering, and cries of 'Flam forever!') Take my advice, retire to your homes, keep an eye on the Whigs and their wicked schemes to bolster up the State banks, make no run upon this institution—it is an ill bird that defiles its own nest—and, before you depart, gentlemen, let me inform you that, having the greatest regard to your interest, we have determined upon a temporary suspension, as a mere matter of caution against the intrigues of the Whigs, who, we have every reason to believe, actuated by their implacable hatred of the New-Light Democracy, will assail this, your favorite bank, with a malevolence unexampled in all their past career. (Loud cheers, and cries of 'Stand by the bank.') But, Quodlibetarians, rally, and present a phalanx more terrible than the Macedonian to the invader. You can—I am sure you will—and, therefore, I tell you your bank is safe."

"We can, we will!" rose from the whole multitude, accompanied with cheers that might vie with the bursting of the ocean surge.

"Gentlemen," added Mr. Flam, "I thank you for the manifestation of this patriotic sentiment. It is no more than I expected of Quodlibet. In conclusion, I am requested, my good friends, by Mr. Handy, to say that having just prepared some notes on a superior paper, he will redeem at the counter any old ones you may chance to hold, in that new emission; and I can with pride assure you, that this late supply is equal, perhaps, to anything that has ever been issued in the United States. With my best wishes, gentlemen, for your permanent prosperity, under the new and glorious dynasty of that distinguished New-Light Democrat, whom the unbought suffrages of millions of freemen have called to the supreme executive chair, (cheers,) and under whose lead we fondly indulge the hope of speedily sweeping from existence this pestilential brood of Whig banks, I respectfully take my leave."

Having concluded this masterly appeal to the reason and good sense of the people, Mr. Flam withdrew under nine distinct rounds of applause.

The effect of this powerful speech, which has often since been compared to that of Cicero against Catiline, was completely to still the public mind of Quodlibet, and also to remove all apprehensions of the solidity of our bank. But its happiest feature was the vindication of the bank against that charge of treachery and ingratitude which so justly lies at the door of all the other banks of the country. The Patriotic Copperplate Bank of Quodlibet was, as Mr. Flam observed, purely Democratic—Democratic in its origin, in its principles, in its organization, in its management, in its officers, its stockholders, and its customers. Such a bank, of course, could not be unfaithful to the Democratic administration that fostered it—infidelity or ingratitude to party is no inhabitant of a Democratic bosom. If there be men upon earth who go all lengths, through thick and thin, for party, it is (I say it with pride) the genuine New-Light Quodlibetarian Democracy. Our bank, therefore, stands uncontaminated by that revolting perfidy which, at the instigation of Biddle and the Barings, brought all the other banks, in which there are Whig directors or officers, into the most wicked conspiracy recorded in history.

It was not long after this astounding event before the opinions uttered above were fully and most remarkably confirmed by a letter from the Hermitage; a letter which for its shrewdness of view, its perspicacity, its lucid style and Hero-and-Sage-like felicity of construction, is unequaled in the productions of the venerable Chief. I am happy to insert it here, as a most eloquent exposition of the causes of the suspension—feeling assured that its distinguished author had no reference to the Democratic banks, and especially none to ours of Quodlibet, but intended it entirely for the vile Whigs.

"The history of the world," says this immortal man, writing July ninth, to the virgin-minded, tremulously-sensitive, and unrewarded editor of the Globe, "never has recorded such base treachery and perfidy as has been committed by the deposit banks against the government, and purely with a view of gratifying Biddle and the Barings, and by the suspension of specie payments, degrade, embarrass, and ruin, if they could, their own country, for the selfish views of making large profits by throwing out millions of depreciated paper upon the people—selling their specie at large premiums, and buying up their own paper at discounts of from 25 to 50 per cent., and now looking forward to be indulged in these speculations for years to come before they resume specie payments."

Oracular old man! Sage and Seer! Priest and Prophet to lead thine Israelites beyond Jordan! Happy do I, S. S., Schoolmaster of Quodlibet, account myself that I have lived in this thy day!