“You see, I cannot be a big man. I must keep myself as _little_ as
possible.”
“The joys of littleness are very great, as the mouse remarked at the
battle of Gettysburg; but they are not for you,” I said. “He that
humbleth himself shall be exalted.”
“He that humbleth himself shall avoid trouble--that's the way it hits
me,” he said. “I could have been Secretary of the Treasury a few years
back if I had dared. I must let everything alone which is likely to stir
up my history. Suppose the President should suddenly discover that he
had an ex-convict in his Cabinet? Do you think he could stand that,
great as he is? He would rightly say that I had tricked and deceived
and disgraced him. What would the newspapers say, and what would
people think of me? Potter, I've made a study of this thing we call
civilization. It's a big thing--I do not underestimate it--but it isn't
big enough to forgive a man who has served his term.”
“Yes, I know; some of us are always looking for a thief inside the
honest man,” was my answer. “We ought to be looking for the honest man
inside the thief, as Chesterton puts it.”
“That's a good idea!” he exclaimed. “Find me one. I'd like to use him to
teach this world a lesson. I'd pay you a handsome salary as Diogenes. If
you succeed once I'll astonish you with generosity.”
“I should like to help you to get rid of some of this money of yours,” I
said.
“You can begin this morning,” he went on. “I'm going to give you some
notes for a new will. Suppose you sit down at the table there.”
I spent the rest of that day taking notes, and was astonished at the
amount of his property and the breadth of his spirit. He had got his
start in the mining business, and with surprising insight had
invested his earnings in real estate, oil-lands, railroad stocks, and
steel-mills.
“I have always believed in America, and America has made me rich,” he
said to me.
“Before the Spanish War and in every panic, when no man seemed to want
her securities, I have bought them freely, and I own them today. With
our growing trade and fruitful lands I wonder that all thinking men did
not share my confidence. If America had gone to smash I should have gone
with her. I shall stick to the old ship.”
One paragraph of the will has begun to make history. It has appeared
in the newspapers, but no account of my friend should omit it, and
therefore I present its wording here:
“There are many points of greatness in the Christian faith, but the
greatest of all is charity. I conceive that the best argument for the
heathen is that of wheat and com. I therefore direct that the sum of
five million dollars be set aside and invested by the trustees of this
will and that its proceeds be applied to the relief of the distressing
poverty of unconverted peoples, wherever they may be, in the discretion
of said trustees; and when said relief is applied it shall be done as
the act of 'A Christian friend in America.' It is my wish that wherever
practicable in the judgment of said trustees this relief shall be
applied through the establishment of industries in which the needy shall
be employed at fair wages.”
I had finished my notes for the will, and my friend and I were sitting
comfortably by the open fire, when his wife entered the room and sat
down with us.
“Have you told Mr. Potter about the bank offer?” she inquired of her
husband.
“No, my dear,” he answered.
“May I tell him?”
“Certainly.”
“Mr. Potter, the presidency of a great bank has been offered to my
husband, and I think that he ought to take it.”
“Oh, I have work enough here at home--all I can do,” he said.
“But you will not have much to do there--only a little consulting once a
week or so, and they say that you can talk to them here if you wish.”
“It's too much responsibility,” he answered.
“But it's so respectable,” she urged. “My heart is set on it. They tell
me that, next to Mr. Morgan, you would be the greatest power in American
finance. We should all be so proud of you.”
“I couldn't wish you to be any more proud of me,” he answered, tenderly.
“But, naturally, we want you to be as great as you can, Whitfield,” she
went on. “This would mean so much to me and to Gwendolyn.”
He rose wearily, with a glance into my eyes which I perfectly
understood, and went to his wife and kissed her and said:
“My dear, I am sure that Mr. Potter will agree with me.”
“Unreservedly,” was my answer.
I knew then that this ambitious woman was as ignorant as the cattle in
their farmyard of the greater honors which he had declined.
She rose and left the room with a look of disappointment. How far the
urgency of his wife and other misguided friends may have gone I know
not, but I have reason to believe that it put him to his wit's ends.
I am sure that it was the most singular situation in which a lawyer was
ever consulted. My client's high character had commanded the love and
confidence of all who knew him well, and this love and confidence were
pushing him into danger. His own character was the wood of the cross on
which he was being crucified.
That week I appeared for Norris in a case of some importance in New
York. One day in court a letter was put in my hands from the editor of
a great newspaper. It requested that I should call upon him that day or
appoint an hour when he could see me at my hotel. I went to his office.
“Is it true that Norris is to be our new minister to--?” he asked.
“It is not true,” I said.
“Is it true that he served a term in an Illinois prison?”
“Why do you ask?”
“For the reason that a story to that effect is now in this office.”
It was a critical moment, and I did not know how to behave myself.
“I mean that a man has submitted the story--he wishes to sell it,” he
added.
“Forgive me if I speak a piece to you,” I said. “It will be short and to
the point.”
As nearly as I could remember them I repeated the noble lines of
Whitman:
“And still goes one, saying,
'What will ye give me and I will deliver this man unto
you?'
And they make the covenant and pay the pieces of silver,
The old, old fee... paid for the Son of Mary.
“If there's any descendant of Judas Iscariot on this paper I shall see
to it that his name and relationship are made known,” I added.
“We have not bought the article, and it is not likely that we shall,”
said he. “If you wish to answer my question I shall make no use of your
words.”
There are times when one has to act and act promptly on his own
judgment, and when the fate of a friend is in the balance it is a hard
thing to do. So I quickly chose my landing and jumped.
“I have only this to say,” I answered. “Mr. Norris served a term in
prison when he was a boy, but the facts are of such a nature that it
wouldn't be safe for you to publish any part of them.”