MR. BEVERLEY LEE; OR, THE DAYS OF THE SHIN-PLASTERS. "Who's in or out, who moves the grand machine, Nor stirs my curiosity nor spleen; Secrets of state no more I wish to know Than secret movements of a puppet show; Let but the puppets move, I've my desire, Unseen the hand which guides the master wire."-Churchill. "The benefits he sow'd in me, met not Unthankful ground, but yielded him his own With fair increase; and still I glory in it."-Massinger. "The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, The best conditioned and unwearied spirit WALL-STREET was in commotion. The pave ments of that busy, bustling mart were crowded with brokers, bank-directors, merchants, speculators, politicians, editors, and all the other representatives of the commercial metropolis. Care and anxiety were written on every countenance. It was a time of unusual embarrassment. Commerce, trade, and all the resources of the country were paralyzed. Discontent and murmurings were heard in every quarter. There was a panic. "General Jackson had destroyed the country!" said a whig. "Mr. Biddle has curtailed our discounts!" said a conservative. "All confidence is lost!" said a reformer. "And every merchant in New-York must fail!" said a loco-foco. "We are on the eve of a revolution !" ejaculated a patriotic little stock-jobber, the chairman of a ward meeting; "and if we don't do away with the government, the government will do away with us; therefore, I say, down with the government!" "Down with the bank!" responded an administration worthy near him, with equal fervour and patriotism. "Neither the government nor the bank are answerable for the present condition of things," said a meddling little secretary of an insurance company, who stepped in as mediator between the contending parties. "To what is it owing, then?" asked they. "To the great fire of the sixteenth of December, which destroyed one section of our city and twenty millions of property." "Not at all," said the editor of a political journal, who was supposed to know everything, past, present and to come. "Our calamities are owing to the enormous speculations which have taken place in real estate. We needed a check of some sort. We were buying lots in the moon and laying out lithographic cities in the stars, and the consequence is a revulsion unparalleled in our annals." The conversation was here interrupted by the news that some twenty new bankruptcies had occurred among the oldest mercantile houses in the city; that one bank had stopped payment, and that a run had been commenced on the others. All was confusion and dismay. Individuals were seen hurrying to and fro with bags of coin upon their shoulders, of which they had just been draining the banks. Idle rumours were everywhere circulated. The president of one of the banks had committed suicide, and others had absconded with the moneys committed to their trust. Mobs were forming to lay waste all the monied institutions of the city, and to tumble the buildings about the ears of their officers. The mayor had called out the military to preserve the public peace. The police patroled the streets by day, and the watch was doubled by night. The citizens of New-York were in dread of fire and the sword. The hour of three, P. M., when all business ordi narily ceases in Wall-street, at length arrived. The omnibusses, those most convenient things in the world, (only when you want them, particularly on rainy days, they are either full or going the wrong way,) rumbled over the pavements. The multitude began to scatter; but, long after the money depositories were closed, might be seen lingering around the bulletins of the newspaper-offices, knots of anxious, discontented spirits, talking over the events of the day and anticipating the horrors of the morrow. It was in one of these little assemblies that Mr. Beverley Lee, a handsome, fashionable, light-hearted young fellow, a contributor to the periodicals and an author of no mean celebrity, became a participator in the all-engrossing conversations of the times. Mivins, an opulent, influential broker, who was accounted "a good man" on 'change, and proudly denominated in that vicinity "a bear," took him by the button, and pointing out the ruins of a building that had fallen to the ground not long before, said, "That, sir, is now all that remains of those who were nick-named the Rothschilds of this country." "I am sorry for their misfortunes," said Lee. "Sorry!" rejoined the broker, "if my wish could be realized, not only they, but all the Jews in NewYork should be buried in the ruins." "Why so?" said Belmont, a calm, dignified, silvery-haired, feeble old gentleman, who stood next to Lee, and who had been listening to their discourse without taking any part in it. "Because," said Mivins, raising his voice, and clenching his hand with strong emotion, "in my opinion, it's part of the religious creed of a Jew to cheat a Christian." "The Christian religion does not teach you that precept," said Belmont, mildly, a slight flush passing over his fine countenance as he turned upon his heel to depart. 66 Stop, sir," said Mivins, placing his hand upon the old gentleman's shoulder and detaining him, "if you mean any thing by what you have just said, you mean to insult me, and thus I resent it," added he, furiously, spitting upon his garments. Belmont instantly rushed upon his assailant, and Lee, perceiving his danger, flung himself between the parties just in time to receive the blow aimed at his new acquaintance full upon his own stalworth bosom. A scuffle ensued; but the parties were soon separated. Not, however, until cards had been exchanged, and the residence of each individual ascertained. That evening Mivins was waited upon with a cartel, and a meeting appointed for the morning. Lee did not retire to rest until late that night; his mind was filled with contending emotions. It was the first time his person had ever been profaned by a blow, and he was on the eve of washing out L |