Virtue maketh men on the earth famous, in their graves illustrious,
in the heavens immortal.--Chilo.
Perhaps there is no man so well known and yet so little
thought about in any one community as he who, in the universal opinion,
bears a good name. Upon his brow he wears the modern laurel, the highest
emblem of his worth, yet the simplest tribute of his fellow citizens.
There are certain exigencies in the histories of all groups of people
when the ordinary machinery of life will not operate. The citizens
require the utmost letter of the bond; they look with suspicion on all
who have usually given satisfaction by their services. A great man is
needed. It is then that the people, with one voice, cry out for succor
from him of of whom, in days of greater prosperity, they had no
imploring need; and it is then astonishing to what a degree the voice
of the people at once becomes the voice of God.
A bank which, owing to its high-sounding title, had attracted the
savings of the people, fell into the hands of a clique of scoundrels and
was compelled to suddenly suspend, the President flying to a distant
land to escape the penalties of his crimes. When thirteen thousand
depositors were thus confronted with total or partial ruin, there was
but one man in a great city whom they would trust to enter the
desecrated temple of their hopes and set to rights the treasure yet
unstolen. This man came