she said to me, 'Don't let your popularity turn your mind away from the duty you owe to God. Before Him we are all alike sinners, and to Him we must all alike give account. All these things will pass away, and you and I, and all of us must stand before God.' I have never forgotten it, Doctor, and I never shall."

Tears were in his eyes, adds Dr. Van Pelt, as he said these words.

As the boat was nearing the city, some slight confusion on board the boat occurred. To the apology of the marshal, Mr. Coventry Waddell, the General replied: "You were in action, I suppose, sir, and no apology is necessary. You are a young man, Mr. Waddell, and I see around me many who have seen fewer years than I have, and what I now say may be of some use to them. Always take all the time to reflect that circumstances will permit, but when the time for action has come, stop thinking."

Upon reaching Battery Place, an officer approached the President, and asked whether he preferred to ride in a barouche or on horseback. Turning to Mr. Van Buren, the General said,

"Matty, shall we ride in a carriage or on horseback?" "As the President pleases," said Mr. Van Buren.

Well, then," added the General, "let us ride on horseback."

Turning to Dr. Van Pelt, he said, "Farewell, my friend."

"Farewell," said the doctor;

in this world."

we may never meet again

"Then may we meet in a better," rejoined the President. "You have my best wishes, General," said the doctor. "I believe it," said the General, as he mounted and rode away.

A few days after the departure of the President for New England, the furniture used by him during his stay in the city was sold at auction, and thus divided among his admirers as mementoes of his visit.

Boston received him with extraordinary liberality and enthusiasm. One floor of the Tremont House was set apart for the entertainment of the President and his party. Carriagesand-four were kept at their disposal. Tickets to every place of amusement in the city were daily provided in profusion. All tolls and fares were intermitted to the friends of the President. Harvard University conferred upon him, in solemn form, in the chapel at Cambridge, the degree of Doctor of Laws; and one of the seniors, Francis Bowen, addressed the President, on behalf of the students, in the Latin language. These ceremonies, of course, gave the wits of the opposition an opportunity-which they improved. Major Jack Downing, whose humorous letters amused the whole country this summer, records that when the President had finished his speech at Downingville, he cried out to him, "You must give them a little Latin, Doctor." Whereupon the President, nothing abashed, "off hat agin," and thus resumed: "E pluribus unum, my friends, sine qua non !"

At Boston, the President, overcome by fatigue, had a dangerous attack of his malady, bleeding at the lungs, which confined him to his room for several days. The hotel was suddenly enveloped in silence. The carpets in the halls of the story occupied by the President were doubled, and the street was covered with tan. The President rallied, and continued his journey as far as Concord. At that point, he suddenly turned his course homeward, visiting Providence and Newport, steaming past New York without stopping, and making the best of his way to the seat of government. The reason assigned for this hasty return was the precarious state of the President's health. But that was not the only reason.

The veracious Downing assures us that the General was delighted with his "tower." "He is amazingly tickled with the Yankees," writes the Major, "and the more he sees on 'em, the better he likes 'em. No nullification here,' says he. 'No,' says I, 'General; Mr. Calhoun would stand no more chance down east here than a stumped-tail bull in fly time.'"

Later in the summer, the President, accompanied by Mr.

Blair, of the Globe, visited his favorite sea-shore resort, the Rip-raps of Virginia. A little circumstance that occurred on the steamboat that conveyed the party down the Chesapeake shows that Andrew Jackson had that kind of assurance of safety and success which Cæsar had in his fortunes and Napoleon in his star. The boat was a crazy old tub, and the waves were running high. An aged gentleman on board exhibited a good deal of alarm. "You are uneasy," said the General to him; "you never sailed with me before, I see.”

CHAPTER XXXVI.

WAR UPON THE BANK RENEWED.

It is the nature of every thing that has life to try to prolong its life. So the Bank of the United States could not make up its mind to die on the 4th of March, 1836. By the aid of the press, and, possibly, by other means less legitimate, it still hoped to obtain a re-charter from Congress by a majority that would render the veto of the President power

less.

I say, possibly, by means less legitimate. The charge was made, and there was probably truth in the charge; but how much truth, it is impossible to ascertain. Unquestionably, the president, the directors, the employées of the great bank desired a re-charter, as much as the Jackson politicians desired a perpetuation of their power; and for the same reasons. Unquestionably, the resources and the influence of the bank were, in some degree, employed to secure a re-charter. questionably, a member of Congress or an influential editor who presented a note to be discounted at the bank, was more likely to obtain the accommodation sought than any other man of equal credit. I think it highly probable that this species of favoritism was carried, in the later years of the struggle for life, to an extent that was most unwise, if not

Un

criminal. The instance related by Col. Benton must be taken with some allowance; for Col. Benton, in the height of the contest, was bank-mad, and was prepared to believe any thing ill of Nicholas Biddle. "The manner," says Benton, "in which the loans to members of Congress were made, was told me by one of these members who had gone through this process of bank accommodation; and who, voting against the bank, after getting the loan, felt himself free from shame in telling what had been done. He needed $4,000, and could not get it at home; he went to Philadelphia-to the bank-inquired for Mr. Biddle-was shown into an ante-room, supplied with newspapers and periodicals; and asked to sit, and amuse himself-the president being engaged for the moment. Presently a side door opened. He was ushered into the presence-graciously received-stated his business-was smilingly answered that he could have it, and more if he wished it; that he could leave his note with the exchange committee, and check at once for the proceeds: and if inconvenient to give an endorser before he went home, he could do it afterwards: and whoever he said was good, would be accepted. And in telling me this, the member said he could read bribery' in his eyes."

I have been told, twenty times, in the course of my inquiries on this subject, that Daniel Webster's checks for sums as large as five thousand dollars were paid by the bank when Mr. Webster had not a dollar in the bank. Every one must have heard similar stories, for they are still current. When, however, we look over the list of directors, and find there the names of men known to have been honest and honorable all their lives, men of even punctilious honesty in their private dealings, we find it impossible to believe such tales. In later years, when the bank had ceased to be a national institution, and was governed almost absolutely by the "emperor Nicholas," there was, indeed, a looseness in the management of its affairs that we know not whether to ascribe to corruption or to incapacity. A memoir of Nicholas Biddle, if honestly written, would be a most valuable contribution to the history of the country and of business, and would explain

many things in the later career of the bank which are now lost in a chaos of figures, statements, counter-statements, and vituperation. Even when the final crash came, no man in the country seems to have been more sincerely astonished at it than Nicholas Biddle. How instructive it would be to men of business to have such an incredible mystery explained.

But it does not belong to our subject to explore in that direction. The directors of the bank made no attempt to conceal that they spent considerable sums in printing and circulating documents designed to vindicate the bank against the charges of the President of the United States. The bank, said they in their celebrated report of December, 1833, owns no press and sustains no press; does not interfere, and has not interfered with elections. In defending itself against the charges brought by the administration, it had expended in four years, the sum of fifty-eight thousand dollars; an expenditure which the directors justified as well as avowed. "The Bank," they said, "asserts its clear right to defend itself equally against those who circulate false statements, and those who circulate false notes. Its sole object, in either case, is self-defense. It can not suffer itself to be calumniated down, and the interests confided to its care sacrificed by falsehoods. A war of unexampled violence has been waged against the Bank. The institution defends itself. Its assailants are what are called politicians; and when statements which they can not answer, are presented to the country, they reproach the bank with interfering in politics. As these assaults, too, are made at the period of public elections, the answers of the bank must of course follow at the same time: and thus, because these politicians assail the bank on the eve of elections, unless the institution stands mute, it is charged with interfering in politics, and influencing elections. The bank has never interfered in the slightest degree in politics, and never influenced or sought to influence elections; but it will not be deterred by the menaces or clamors of politicians, from executing its duty in defending itself. Of the time and manner and degree and expense connected with this ser