They were critical days which followed. The country passed through a crisis more perilous than the keenest observers could understand or fathom. The course of events was a complete enigma. The unexpected happened continually. Where danger seemed greatest it disappeared. Where it had been unsuspected, it broke out even in violence and bloodshed. Where bread had been most scarce, it became mysteriously plentiful. Where hunger had been clemming in silence, it suddenly gave voice, and honest hands defied the law that they might feed empty bellies. And the world of trade seemed turned over to laws of paradox. The distrust of gold, of money, was growing rapidly stronger, yet there sprang up a vigorous demand for it. The banks wanted it, and began putting up their rates. It was no longer a drug in the market. The effect upon perverse human nature was what it always had been. As long as it had been plentiful nobody cared for it; when it began to grow scarce everybody clamored for it. Within ten days the visible supply of money in New York shrank more than one hundred millions.

There was a sudden halt in the mad speculation in wheat. The newspapers discovered that bread by the loaf in New York and Chicago could be bought cheaper than wheat by the bushel or flour by the barrel. The revelation was received first with incredulity and then with dismay by the holders of grain. Under this influence and that of tightening money, the more timid of the speculators began to sell out. That was enough. The market trembled, tottered, and then the crash came. The wheat pit in Chicago was the scene of the greatest tragedy in trade of all its long history of great catastrophes. Black ruin stalked into the wild arena and laid low great and small alike.

Brent was in Wharton’s office when the news came. A private wire from Chicago brought fragmentary reports of the frenzied panic. For a few minutes the confusion of quotations was impossible to understand. Then it appeared that wheat had fallen more than fifty cents a bushel in less than a quarter of an hour.

“Can’t we stop it, Jack?” exclaimed Brent, when the operator handed Wharton a slip of paper making this point clear. “This is unnecessary ruin, and there’s no knowing where the thing will end.”

“I’ll try,” replied Wharton, scribbling rapidly on a pad and handing it to the operator. “I’m instructing Barton to buy five million bushels if necessary, to steady the market.”

The message was gone in a trice, but it was a matter of seconds rather than minutes in dealing with such an emergency, and nothing for the moment could check the frantic scramble to escape from the ruins of the flimsy fabric of speculation. In ten minutes more, wheat was a dollar a bushel cheaper than the day before, and the transactions mounted high in the millions. News of failures began to come, and the scene in the wheat pit was reported to be like that of a madhouse in revolt.

“I’m afraid we’ve overdone it,” said Wharton anxiously. “I had no idea the bubble would collapse so easily. We must be ready for trouble here, too. The stock market will take alarm, and there may be devils let loose here, too.”

In confirmation of his fears, the telephone connecting with the Stock Exchange on Wharton’s desk rang at that moment, and Strong & Co.’s representative there notified him that the market was becoming active and feverish over the news from Chicago. Wharton telephoned brief instructions to head off any decline by supporting strongly two or three prominent stocks, and he quickly turned again to some more slips from the Chicago wire which Brent handed him.

“Worse than ever, Jack,” said the latter. “How much cash have we in Chicago?”

“About twelve millions available within instant reach.”

“Hadn’t we better throw it all into wheat, and force a reaction?”

“Perhaps even that wouldn’t stem the tide, if this fury doesn’t soon exhaust itself. Whew! Some of the biggest houses in the West are in this list of suspensions. These last figures are a little better, though. Barton must be at work.”

“Mr. Barton’s reply, sir,” called out the telegraph operator, and a moment later handed over this message:

“Order filled. Market still unsettled. Await instructions.”

“I think you are right, Robert. I shall tell him to bid up wheat smartly. Five million bushels more, if necessary.” And the order was in Chicago sixty seconds later.

The effect was soon felt. The recovery began, and within an hour the advance had become steady. Wharton checked it as soon as about one fourth of the day’s decline had been regained.

It was impossible to do much toward limiting the secondary effects of the crash during the next few days. The fears of all classes of investors had been fully roused. The ordinary laws of trade seemed to have been suspended. A kind of commercial anarchy was in the air. All markets were unsettled, and everybody was apprehensive of all manner of disaster. For several days, Wharton and Brent strove by every resource and expedient that their combined wits could suggest to hold the storm in check. They bought in some markets, they sold in others, they borrowed money, they loaned it, according as the rapidly changing exigencies of the situation seemed to dictate. They succeeded in completely confusing and demoralizing even the wisest and most conservative financial leaders. The men whose judgment and action are the best reliance in great crises were as much in the dark as the most bumptious charlatan of finance. But after a few days things began to quiet down a little. It was not the calm of returning confidence, however. The partial suspension of activity was merely the paralysis of doubt and fear, and as ominous almost as the rampant fever which had preceded it.

The situation was complicated by the culmination of long gathering protests in the industrial world. Great strikes upon the principal railways and in cotton, woolen, and other manufacturing establishments were not only threatened, but in some cases actually begun. Mill-owners had been on the point of yielding to their operatives’ demands, but the panic in prices for two weeks had affected their products seriously. They realized that their market, like nearly all others, was overstocked. Instead of running their mills overtime as they had been doing to supply what was really an investors’ and not a consumers’ demand, they suddenly faced the necessity of cutting down production, if not closing their mills entirely. The operatives had pressed their demand too late. They were again to become the victims of the suddenly changed conditions. Before the crisis, they were in the hard situation of having plenty of work at nominally fair wages, but really at wages possessing only sixty per cent of the purchasing power of the same number of dollars and cents six months before. Now that they had finally rebelled against this injustice, the conditions had suddenly changed. Prices of the necessaries of life had fallen, but before the wage-earners could take advantage of the return to old conditions, their demands for more money were met by the announcement that there would soon be no work at any price. What wonder that discontent and rebellion were rampant among all classes?

Affairs were in this gloomy condition, when Brent and Wharton sat in the latter’s office after the close of business on the 1st of November. The events of the past month had been a severe strain upon both men. Wharton was both pale and haggard. His nervous force had been almost drained. He was tipped back in his office chair, with both feet perched upon the slide at the side of his desk, and with his head resting wearily upon his hand. Brent, with gloomy, rather indifferent countenance, was stretched out in an equally negligent attitude in a large leather-covered lounging chair. Neither had spoken for some time when Brent turned to his friend and remarked, in a tone that expressed both disgust and indifference:

“Well, Jack, what next? For my part, I’m utterly sick of it all. Let’s take to-morrow’s steamer for the Mediterranean. You need it badly enough, and what good can we do here? I believe things get worse instead of better the more we meddle with them.”

Wharton pondered some time before replying. Finally he took his feet down from their resting-place, shook himself together, and with strong emphasis thus delivered himself:

“Yes, Bob, it’s time we stopped meddling, and I agree there’s not much more that we alone can do in the present situation. The crisis is too great for one man or two men. We must have help. I know how you dread notoriety, but if ever a problem demanded the best wisdom of the country and the world for its solution, it is this one. Our poor efforts have not been altogether mischievous. Worse things might have happened than have happened; but we haven’t begun to get at the heart of the problem yet. Even if we weather the present crisis without worse disaster, there is your remaining incubus of gold to deal with. That is what makes the situation hopeless in my eyes. Humanity has never faced a more terrible enemy, in my opinion, than you hold locked up in your vault. It isn’t safe there, or rather society isn’t safe as long as it remains there. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since you told me about it. No locks and keys ever made are strong enough to hold such a quantity of gold in safety. That isn’t the worst of it. The knowledge of its existence is just as dangerous as the thing itself. It is a marvel to me that the secret has not leaked out before now. Mark my words, it will leak out. What we have done in the last year is enough to justify the wildest suspicions. I am not so sure that they do not already exist. The Sun, as you know, printed some broad hints six months ago. A widespread suspicion of the truth would work almost as much mischief as actual knowledge, and it would inevitably lead to discovery. Why, in such an emergency, a strong government on some pretext or other would arbitrarily assume the authority to investigate and uncover the facts at any cost. It would be quite right, too, in defying legal rights and all other obstacles to the accomplishment of its purpose. Private property rights are sacred and inviolable, properly enough, in the ordinary circumstances of life; but when they threaten the vital welfare of society they will soon be swept aside—yes, even in liberty-loving, all-men-free-and-equal America.”

“Go on, Jack, I agree with you,” said Brent quietly, when Wharton paused for a moment.

“Very well, then, we see the danger, and it is imminent,” resumed the young man, with the emphasis of intense conviction. “It is far better that the truth should be made known voluntarily and with due precautions to those most qualified to deal with it, than that it should be discovered by accident. Everything depends, in fact, on keeping it from the knowledge of the world until a policy for rendering it harmless has been decided upon. In a word, Bob, it seems to me there are only two courses open to you—either sink this gold, every bit of it, in a bottomless pit, or place the facts at once before the best jury of financial wisdom the world can supply, and abide by its decision.”

Wharton’s pale face was whiter than ever in its earnestness, as he leaned forward and watched the effect of his words upon his friend. Brent had listened to the straightforward argument without any sign of emotion. He did not speak for some moments, and when he did turn toward his companion, Wharton was surprised at the expression of mingled sadness and determination which he saw in his eyes.

“I had already reached the same conclusion, Jack,” he said, still very quietly, “and I have made my decision.”

“Which is?”

“To put the whole case before a competent tribunal, as you suggest, and act upon its decision. I cannot bring myself to take the responsibility of destroying this great mass of what the world calls wealth, and I recognize the criminal folly of risking longer the disclosure of its existence. I tell you frankly that I never took a step with greater reluctance than I shall take this one. It means the sacrifice of much that I hold most dear in life. It means the loss of all privacy. It means an odious notoriety from which there will not be a moment’s escape. It means living till the end of my days under a fiercer light than beats upon a throne. It means fame without honor, fame such as only the lowest vanity can covet. It means the envy and hatred of the majority of my fellows. It means—bah!” A gesture of loathing expressed even more forcibly than his words the young man’s shrinking from the penalties of the course of action he had decided upon.

“I know how you feel about it, Robert,” interrupted his friend, “and I sympathize with you sincerely in your dread of becoming in a certain sense a public character; but I think you take a wrong view of your position and of the attitude which the general public will assume toward you. If the plain truth be told, and further evil effects of the existence of this gold are avoided, as I believe they will be, then you cannot stand in any but a patriotic and honorable light. Instead of being criticised and condemned, you will be respected and honored by every man whose good opinion is worth having. None but a few crazy fools will denounce you. Even the anarchists cannot complain if you devote this treasure to public uses, as you probably will.”

“You are quite wrong about the anarchists,” remarked Brent, with cynical bitterness. “Their big red mouths will be loudest in my denunciation, and I shall have to be as careful in my precautions against bombs and cranks as the czar of Russia. Yes, I shall be speedily proclaimed the deadliest enemy of the race. But that will be one of the least of my annoyances. However, I’ll make the best of it. The load of responsibility which is crushing both of us will at all events be taken away. Now, for carrying out our resolve. What do you suggest?”

“It is too vast a subject, it seems to me, to be dealt with under any private or even strictly American auspices—no matter how high the individuals composing your jury might stand in the financial world. We should secure if possible the creation of a small international board, composed of the most eminent financiers or statesmen, selected under the direct authority of the principal powers. I know of no other plan which would secure the world’s confidence, which is essential in the end. I think the president will readily see the wisdom of summoning such a monetary conference. It could be done without exciting suspicion, for the troubles of the past few months have many times suggested it, as you know. My idea would be to see the secretary of the treasury and the president at once, lay the whole matter before them, and suggest this course of action.”

“A good plan, I believe, Jack,” said Brent reflectively. “We cannot act on it too promptly, for there’s no knowing what mischief Congress may do as soon as it assembles. I wouldn’t be surprised if its first step should be to order a drag-net investigation of the financial situation, and you may be sure you would be the first witness summoned. Be a good idea to see the president before he sends in his message, wouldn’t it?”

“Quite right,” responded Wharton quickly. “It might save lots of trouble.”

“Well, why not go over to Washington to-night, and call on the secretary and the president to-morrow?”

Wharton thought a moment.

“Yes, the very best thing we can do. We’ll take the midnight train,” he said finally.

And the midnight train carried no passengers whose sleep was sounder than that of the two weary men, who took with them to Washington a heavier burden to put upon the shoulders of the nation’s chief than any president had borne since Lincoln.

CHAPTER XII.

A CONSULTATION AT THE WHITE HOUSE.

The secretary’s manner changed instantly. “Show the gentlemen in at once,” was his order. A moment later he greeted Wharton cordially, saying:

“You are the one man whom I am heartily glad to see to-day.”

“Thank you, sir,” responded Wharton. “I wish I could hope that my coming would justify your welcome. Allow me to present my friend, Mr. Brent of New York.”

The two men shook hands, and when they had seated themselves near the secretary’s desk, Wharton went on to say:

“Let me explain at once that Mr. Brent is the principal for whom my firm has been acting in all the operations with which our name has been connected during the past year. It has been his money and only his which has been used. We have come to Washington to put you in possession of certain information which is of the gravest importance to the nation, and to ask your advice and assistance. I should say at the outset that if even a suspicion of the truth which we are here to make known to you should transpire, it would work the greatest calamity to the country; so you will pardon me, I know, if I ask if we can speak without possibility of being overheard.”

“Certainly, Mr. Wharton,” responded the secretary gravely, his glance resting first on one man and then on the other with an expression of keenest interest. “We are quite by ourselves, and we shall not be disturbed. I hope your facts are not as alarming as your words imply.”

“I fear they are, sir,” resumed Wharton. “You know already a good deal about our investment of very large sums of money, originally in gold, since December of last year. We have expended in one way or another in this country and in England a total of about five hundred million dollars.”

“Is it as much as that?” inquired the secretary surprised. “I knew it was a vast sum, but I imagined it was somewhat smaller.”

“Yes, and you know, sir, what the effect has been. But you may not know that we have striven by every means in our power during the past few weeks to check and counteract the evils which have arisen and which have threatened. It has been with rather poor success, I admit, but that is because the task has been too great for us, and not by reason of any lack of effort or of monetary sacrifice upon our part.”

“I know more than you imagine, gentlemen,” interrupted the secretary warmly, “of the country’s indebtedness to you for your services during this crisis. I have seen Mr. Wharton’s hand in many places, and it has been more powerful for good than any of the resources of the government. Ever since our conference last spring, Mr. Wharton, I have had the fullest confidence in your motives and in your patriotism. Had it been different, I should have endeavored to bring some influence to bear upon you before now.”

“You are very kind, sir, but the credit is Mr. Brent’s, whose instructions I have followed. But now we are at the end of our resources. No, our funds are not exhausted,” noticing the surprise in the secretary’s face. “It would be far better if they were. The fact is, and this is what we have come to tell you, that our funds are practically inexhaustible. Mr. Brent has still stored in New York more than five thousand tons of gold, or nearly three billions of dollars.”

The secretary of the treasury started forward in his chair, looking from one man to the other in agitated amazement.

“Can this be true, gentlemen, five thousand tons of gold?” he exclaimed presently, in tones of gravest foreboding.

“Literally true, sir, I am sorry to say,” replied Brent, to whom the secretary seemed to turn for confirmation of Wharton’s startling announcement.

“Then, indeed, are we in danger—not only we but the whole world.” Suddenly springing to his feet, the secretary pressed an electric button and said energetically, “Gentlemen, this is not a matter for us alone. Will you go with me at once to the president?”

Both men assented, and his confidential assistant appearing at that moment, the secretary said to him:

“Telephone to the White House, and ask if the president will see me and two gentlemen at once upon a matter of the most vital importance.”

An affirmative reply came in a few moments, and the three men started for the Executive Mansion, the trip being made almost in silence. They were admitted at once, on reaching the White House, to the president’s private office.

The president, judging from the litter of papers upon the desk at which he sat, had been hard at work. He seemed slightly surprised at seeing two strangers enter with the secretary, but he acknowledged the introductions with quiet affability. He recognized Wharton’s name at once and expressed especial satisfaction at meeting him just at that time.

“I have thought several times within the last month of inviting you to call upon me,” continued the president, “for I have no doubt you can supply us with valuable information and suggestions bearing upon the financial situation.”

Wharton was about to express his appreciation of the honor, when the secretary of the treasury addressed his chief with such gravity of manner that conventional commonplaces were dropped at once.

“Mr. Wharton and Mr. Brent have come to me with a statement of such tremendous import that I have brought them here at once without inquiring into particulars. I should say in the first place,” explained the secretary, while the president listened with close and rather surprised attention, “that Mr. Brent is the owner of all the gold which has been so mysteriously introduced into circulation during the past year, and that Mr. Wharton has been his agent in all the transactions with which we are familiar. The fact which I have hastened to bring instantly to your attention is this: These gentlemen inform me that the amount of virgin gold which they have thus far put upon the market is about five hundred millions, but this enormous sum is less than one sixth of their total store of the metal.”

The president, while the secretary was speaking, had been unconsciously fingering a large paper-weight near the edge of his desk. His surprise was so great at the cabinet officer’s last words, that by an involuntary movement he sent the heavy implement clattering to the floor. No one in the anxious group noticed the noise. The secretary began pacing the room nervously. Brent’s face was melancholy, Wharton’s worried and worn. The president seemed to lose color for a moment, and then an expression of stern determination such as gathers in the faces of resolute men confronting sudden emergencies came upon his. There was a trace of sternness in his voice also when, after looking keenly at Brent for a moment, he inquired:

“Can this be true, Mr. Brent?”

“Yes,” answered Brent, almost guiltily, “unfortunately it is true.”

“May I ask what you propose doing with this gold?” pursued the president.

“That I do not know, sir. It is to ask your advice that I am here. The responsibility is too great for me. I stand ready to devote it to whatever purpose will best conserve the interests of the country and of humanity,” was the reply.

“Thank God for that!” responded the president, evidently much relieved, “for you have in your hands a power for evil greater than I imagined any man possessed. What you have done already has not made me suspicious of your motives, although you will probably admit that some mistakes have been made. Can you tell us the history of this gold, where it is, and whether the source whence it comes is exhausted?”

“I will gladly tell you everything except the location of its original bed,” Brent replied. “That is a secret which is not mine to share. It was chiefly to prevent the overrunning of the region by goldhunters that I was permitted to take it away. Besides, the knowledge is no longer of importance, because I assure you that the wonderful deposit is completely exhausted. The gold, some five thousand tons remaining, is stored in a private vault in New York. It will remain there until the soundest wisdom I can avail myself of determines its final disposition.”

The president left his chair, walked over to the young man, and held out his hand. Brent rose in some surprise and accepted the hand-clasp, while the president exclaimed warmly:

“Mr. Brent, I honor you for that sentiment, and the country will honor you. Unless you were governed by a generous spirit, we should be face to face with almost certain ruin. As it is, a more difficult problem it would be hard to imagine. I confess I should not venture to suggest a solution without long and careful deliberation. But it is not a new problem to you two gentlemen. Will you not give us fully your views of the situation?”

“Mr. Wharton is much better able to discuss the matter than I am,” responded Brent, while all four drew up chairs in a close group. “We have endeavored during the past month to ward off or mitigate such evils as we could in the commercial and financial worlds by various expedients and palliative measures, some of them wise perhaps, and some of them otherwise. We have come to the conclusion, however, that it is beyond our power unaided to restore tranquillity and soundness. We have succeeded in withdrawing about one hundred and fifty millions in cash from circulation. Another hundred millions of the five hundred millions distributed was placed abroad, and at a fair estimate I should judge about fifty millions more had found its way out of the country. So I calculate that the circulating medium in the United States is about two hundred millions greater than it was one year ago, or before we began operations. That is the situation as I understand it regarding the present placing of the gold which I have introduced into the market. For the future, I am anxious to coöperate in any way you may advise for the relief of present difficulties.

“Then comes the larger question of the disposal of the remaining three billions of gold now on my hands. It is as much a matter of concern to the whole world as to America. I should like to submit the problem to a commission, necessarily small, and composed of the highest statesmanship and financial wisdom of the world. I know of no way of doing this except through you. It would, I think, be within your power to convene such an international monetary conference. Only the great powers need be invited, and without disclosing the secret, even to the heads of governments, an intimation of the importance of the matter could be conveyed through diplomatic channels, and thus you could secure the selection of delegates of the highest ability and influence. Of course no hint of the truth must be allowed to transpire until this conference has decided upon a final policy, and arrangements have been made for putting it into execution.”

The president listened to Brent’s statement with close attention and manifest interest. He remained for some moments in profound thought. At length he said:

“On first consideration, Mr. Brent, I am inclined to approve of your suggestion unreservedly. There are difficulties, but I think they might be overcome. I will talk the matter over with the secretary, and we will all discuss it together again a little later. What is more pressing for the moment is our present policy. The Congress, as you know, meets next week. I was engaged in reshaping my message when you came in. After what you have told me, it may be necessary to redraft it entirely. I was prepared to recommend vigorous measures to bring about restoration of confidence, even to the suspension of the free coinage of gold, if such a policy seemed advisable. But with all the other mints of the world still open, and with your assurance that no more additions will be made to the unnatural supply of gold, such a course appears to be unnecessary. We have already curtailed the work of the mints. You know they have all been coining gold day and night at top speed for months, and still have been unable to handle a fraction of the metal offered. Hereafter they will run only during regular hours and at ordinary capacity. Have you noticed, by the way, gentlemen, how completely you have solved the silver problem?”

“Yes, sir,” responded Brent smiling. “We have almost succeeded in both demonetizing gold and remonetizing silver.”

“True,” resumed the president, “and you have quite succeeded in demonstrating the folly and futility of trying to maintain by legislation the value of an oversupplied article, be it silver or gold or anything else. We attempted the impossible in this country more persistently than anywhere else, and we suffered a heavier penalty. Now your deluge of gold has restored the old-fashioned ratio of the world’s production of the two metals, and the price of silver without any legislation or manipulation, simply in obedience to the laws of trade, has risen to its old level. Perhaps it would be more correct to say that gold had descended toward the silver level. If it should become known that you still held five thousand tons of gold ready to turn into money, does anybody suppose that an act of the Congress or any other fiat of government could maintain gold as the standard of value? I have no doubt, however, that the friends of silver will come forward next week with some interesting proposals on behalf of that no longer despised metal. The situation will be difficult to control, very difficult indeed, pending the solution of your greater problem. I cannot help wishing you had placed these facts before me a month ago. Then I should not have felt it my duty to call an extra session.”

The president leaned back in his chair, drummed mechanically upon the desk, and for some time was lost in deep thought. The others were silent likewise. Presently collecting himself, and addressing both Wharton and Brent, the chief of the nation said earnestly:

“Gentlemen, I shall deal with you in this matter with complete frankness and without reserve or formality, just as if you were members of my cabinet. The subject is too great, too portentous, for us to allow any consideration save the best welfare of the country, of the world, to enter into our treatment of it. I hope you will give me the fullest benefit of the most earnest thought you can devote to it. Let it be a personal matter between us, as between men having a common duty. I have absolute faith in your integrity of motive. Your action in coming to me with your momentous secret is sufficient proof of that. Now let us have a few hours to digest this tremendous announcement. No man’s mind—not mine at least—can comprehend all at once the infinite bearings and significance of such news. The secretary and I will both have a better grasp of the subject after sleeping upon it. Will you not come here again to-morrow afternoon, say at two o’clock, and we will have a long talk? Then we will dine quietly and put our heads together over it again in the evening.”

Brent and Wharton heartily thanked the president for his expression of confidence in them, accepted his invitation, and withdrew. The secretary remained with his chief. The sun had long set when he left the White House.

The next day’s conference at the Executive Mansion was long and interesting. It is not necessary to report it in detail. It rambled over the vast ramifications of the subject in a more haphazard and cursory way than the matter was afterwards treated by the more deliberate tribunal to which it was eventually referred. The president appeared rather tired and anxious when he greeted his guests, and so did the secretary of the treasury.

“I told you we should be better able to deal with our difficulty after a night’s sleep,” remarked the president with a smile, as he grasped Brent’s hands. “I for one did not find it an easy matter to sleep upon.”

“Nor I,” observed the secretary sententiously.

“Wharton and I, on the contrary, have enjoyed better rest the last two nights, since deciding to share our responsibility with you, than we have had for weeks,” responded Brent, with some appearance of elation.

“Probably then your clearer heads have been more fertile than ours in plans for meeting the emergency,” suggested the president, adding, with a twinkle of humor in his eye, “It would be only fair for you to point out some line of escape from the dangers with which you have surrounded us.”

Brent’s attempt to smile in response to this sally was not very mirthful.

“My poor brain,” he said, “is quite callous under any spur to effort in that direction. In fact, I have so completely lost confidence in it, that only the other day I begged my friend Wharton to take the whole load of gold off my shoulders, and dispose of it in any way he liked.”

“And he spurned the offer? You are indeed a modern Midas, Mr. Brent, cursed with sumless gold beyond even the craving of human cupidity. It is not easy to convince the mind that fable has become reality, that solid, scientific, nineteenth-century life is suddenly confronted with a condition which society is utterly unprepared to meet.”

The president gave rein to his thought in this strain for a moment longer. Then he turned resolutely to the concrete problem in hand, saying:

“My attitude toward the Congress is, under the circumstances, somewhat embarrassing. I have summoned a special session to deal with the financial situation. The aspect of affairs had very much changed before you came to me yesterday with your startling revelation. Precautions which I would have recommended a month ago are no longer expedient. In view of what you have told me, the less legislation we have just now the better. I have about decided to advise the calling of a monetary conference—the world-wide financial disturbance is sufficient justification for it—and to suggest two or three harmless palliative measures for giving relief to present monetary distress, and for strengthening public confidence. Do you think of any better plan?”

The discussion became general and informal, and soon drifted into various branches of the subject of temporary policy. By the time the dinner hour had arrived, all were agreed that the president’s suggested attitude toward Congress was the wisest that could be adopted. Measures for holding in check erratic and dangerous legislation which might be threatened were also considered. It was arranged that Brent and Wharton should, as far as possible, influence the tone of finance and speculation in harmony with the policy of the administration, and coöperate actively with the government in any emergency which might arise.

It was a quiet, informal dinner at which Brent, Wharton, and the secretary of the treasury joined the presidential household. Finance and other weighty affairs were not allowed to chill the cordial, homelike atmosphere, which the presence of womanly tact and grace made particularly attractive to the two bachelor strangers. Sunday evening at the White House is usually the one strictly home hour of the week, but Brent and Wharton were not for a moment allowed to discover that they were unwonted intruders upon a much cherished privilege. The meal was not a long one, and when it was over the gentlemen withdrew for their cigars to the president’s “den,” as he termed it.

There the conversation soon drifted back to the greater feature of Brent’s golden problem—the proper disposition of his hidden billions. Aside from the obvious escape from the dilemma by casting away the whole treasure and the secret with it, no one had any positive plan to advocate. Various tentative suggestions were discussed as they arose in one mind or another, but there seemed to be strong objections to all of them. Although it was midnight before the discussion became wearisome, nothing definite had been arrived at beyond a general conviction that the problem which would confront the proposed convention of the wise men of finance would prove to be many times deeper, higher, broader, weightier, than any unexpected obstacle which had yet arisen in the path of civilization.

Brent and Wharton returned the next day to New York. They prepared to coöperate with the administration for the maintenance of financial and commercial tranquillity in every possible way. Then came the assembling of Congress. Some disappointment was expressed in many quarters over the president’s message. More had been expected of the administration in the way of relief legislation than the document suggested. But if there was any lack of financial panaceas, Congress speedily supplied it. The variety of schemes and measures for accomplishing all manner of desirable ends seemed infinite. The deluge of private bills soon disappeared in committee archives, most of them attracting no attention on their rapid path to oblivion. The president proved a true prophet in the matter of propositions regarding silver. Most of the low grade silver mines of the West, which had shut down two years before owing to the demonetization of the metal and its low price, had reopened, and were producing at their utmost capacity. There had been much investment and speculative buying of the metal for a few months, in consequence of the decline or superabundance of gold. The champions of the silver interest now came forward with proposals that the free coinage of gold should be suspended, and that at least one half the production of the mints should be silver, at the reëstablished ratio of fifteen to one, which for centuries had marked the relative value of the two metals.

The attitude finally taken by the Administration party, as it came to be known, was not one of direct opposition to the silver men. It was urged that the whole question was too widespread in its bearings for the American Congress, or any other single legislative authority, to attempt to give it independent solution. The world had grown too small, and all its interests were too closely interwoven for any country to be able to maintain an individual monetary policy. Unity of principle and of action had become indispensable. The United States had learned this lesson at sore expense only two years before, and to seek its repetition would be a stupendous folly.

The argument prevailed. The opposition to silver on the old grounds had disappeared. The demand simply for international coöperation could not be reasonably resisted. The suggestion of an international monetary conference speedily received unanimous approval. The invitation was issued by the president to only the principal European powers late in November. It received a promptly favorable response in every case, and it was soon decided that the conference should meet in Paris on the second week in January of the following year, 1896.

Congress turned its attention to temporary and special measures for mitigating commercial and industrial distress. The general paralysis of business continued, and everybody felt that the suspense would last until the united action of the nations had settled the world’s monetary policy. There was, therefore, a widespread feeling of impatience for the assembling and the decision of the Paris conference.

Wharton and Brent found plenty to do in these intervening weeks. After all they had done during October in fighting panic and distress, and under Brent’s determination not to use any fresh capital from his store, they were no longer able to dominate all markets with controlling hand as they had done for months before. They accomplished much, however, in steadying prices in the stock market, the loan market, and some of the markets for staple produce and manufactures, and the lapse of time without fresh serious disasters begot a sort of confidence in the public mind. The administration, partly by means of its alliance with the authors of the financial crisis, was able to do much in the same line. Brent and Wharton were in constant communication with the secretary of the treasury and the president, and they made frequent trips to Washington for consultation.

On one of these occasions the president invited Brent to act as one of the American delegates to the monetary conference. The young man promptly declined.

“I want to keep out of the public eye as long as I possibly can, sir,” he explained. “There are to be only two delegates from each country, and the natural selection will be a leading statesman and a great financier. If you should select an unknown man for a post more important than even a seat in your cabinet, the country would be amazed, and then a great hue and cry would be raised against you and against me. It would also distinctly imperil the secret of the existence of this gold, which we must guard at any cost. No, sir, I must not attend the conference in any official capacity. I am prepared to go there and explain my position to the members in secret session. That will naturally be expected of me. But I must not be publicly identified with the conference and its raison d’être in any way whatsoever.”

“You are entirely right, Mr. Brent,” responded the president. “You are, however, fully entitled to sit upon this board if you choose. I can afford to ignore any public criticisms of my action in appointing you until events bring my justification. But, as you have said, we cannot afford to increase by a feather’s weight the danger of discovery of your secret. I have decided to ask the secretary of the treasury to go as one American representative. Can you suggest the second? Mr. Wharton might be named with propriety. He has come before the public so prominently during the last year as the director of vast financial schemes, that his selection would be regarded as appropriate.”

“No, sir, I think not,” said Brent thoughtfully. “In the first place, it will be necessary for him to remain in New York in charge of my affairs while I am abroad, and then, too, the selection of an older and better known man would be more acceptable both to the American public and to the foreign members of the board. Wharton and I, you know,” Brent added smiling, “are part and parcel of the case. We are the accomplices of the defendant treasure which is to be tried, and we cannot sit upon the jury.”

“Would that more of our countrymen were as diffident of renown and power!” exclaimed the president, with a fervor born of a ripe experience with clamorous American ambition.

For nearly a month before sailing for Europe late in December, Brent was busy night and day. Not only did the demands of the monetary situation occupy much of his time, but he was obliged to give his personal attention to the fitting out of his first annual shipload of supplies, which according to his compact with the chieftain of the Caillitchets must arrive in Patagonia on the 1st of January. He chartered a stanch steamship of about four thousand tons, and loaded her with a large and valuable cargo. He made his purchases with a great deal of care. Arms and ammunition of the latest patterns, he sent according to stipulation. Clothing and fabrics, appropriate to primitive wants in a severe climate, he supplied liberally. Large quantities of food-stuffs in various non-perishable forms were put on board. He included also a collection of simpler labor-saving implements and agricultural tools, in hope that they might encourage new industrial ambitions among the stern and valorous people of the far South. The cargo when completed quite filled the ship, and represented an expenditure of nearly a million dollars.

To Captain Penniman of the Mystery was intrusted the command of the expedition. His instructions were to clear for Buenos Ayres, and after re-coaling, to proceed to the natural harbor on the coast of Patagonia, which Brent indicated upon the chart. Minute directions were given for navigating the inlet, and the exact spot for anchoring was pointed out on the special chart which Brent supplied. He was to remain there until a native should bring to him a document, of which Brent furnished a facsimile. Then he was to discharge his entire cargo upon rafts which the natives would bring alongside. This accomplished, he would receive from the native who produced the original document a sealed packet. Thereupon he should sail at once to New York and deliver the packet to Brent or his representative at Strong & Co.’s office in New Street. The steamer sailed from New York on its mission in due course, December 7.

During the last few days before his departure, Brent made an emergency agreement with Wharton and the president. It seemed wise to take some precautions regarding a course of action in case of the disclosure, accidental or otherwise, of the secret of his treasure-house during his absence in Europe. Each of the four who had knowledge of the facts was convinced that a premature betrayal of the truth would plunge the world into financial chaos, unless the danger could be removed by a single stroke. It was therefore arranged that if necessity should arise, every one of the wooden cases in Brent’s vault would be loaded as quickly and quietly as possible under protection of the United States authorities upon one or two men-of-war to be kept in readiness in New York harbor. These vessels would at once put to sea, and their cargoes would be thrown overboard in mid-ocean. As soon as this had been accomplished, the president would issue a proclamation setting forth all the facts and assuring the world that all danger had passed.

All the quartet, who considered the matter one afternoon at the Executive Mansion, heartily approved of this arrangement, and they one and all felt a large measure of relief when the dreaded emergency had been provided for.

On Saturday, the 28th of December, Brent sailed for Europe in company with the secretary of the treasury and the great banker who had been named as the second representative of the United States at the international monetary conference to meet in Paris two weeks later.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE VERDICT OF THE WORLD’S WISE MEN OF FINANCE.

The grand salon of the French Foreign Office was once more the meeting-place of a great international tribunal. Four years before, an imposing bench of famous jurists had sat in the same chamber to arbitrate the differences between two peoples who wisely preferred the impartial judgment of a court of nations to the arbitrament of war. The lofty salon, with its fine tapestries, its historical works of art, its soberly rich furnishings, had not at all the appearance of a high judicial chamber. As the sittings of the Bering Sea Arbitration Board had suggested, it seemed arranged rather for the assembling of the privy council of an emperor. A high, throne-like seat for the presiding officer was placed at the end of the room farthest from the entrance. At each side of the president’s chair was another place of honor for one of the two members who were to act as secretaries. Grouped in a large semi-circle were eleven richly carved desks, each provided with a great leather chair.

The members of the monetary conference were but fourteen in number. They represented Great Britain, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Russia, and the United States. They assembled on Thursday, the 9th of January, for their first business session. The previous day they had been welcomed by the president of the French Republic, and had been entertained at the Elysée. At their brief meeting for organization, they had made choice of one of the German representatives as president, and of an Italian and an Englishman as secretaries. Now that the formalities were over, the fourteen men were anxious to undertake the rather vague task which they understood was before them. All the European members had received intimations from their respective governments that matters of the gravest importance would be brought before the conference by the American delegates. They had gained no hint as yet about the nature of the proposals or disclosures. A statement from the representatives of the United States was awaited, therefore, with keenest interest and curiosity by all the other members.

Their solicitude had been increased by an earnest request from the Americans that not only should all the sessions of the conference be held with closed doors, but that no officers outside the membership of the board should be appointed, and that no stenographic or other records be kept, save such as might be made by the official secretaries. When, therefore, the great men in statesmanship and finance who composed the small but august body found themselves ready for the performance of their official duties, they looked for some explanation of these extreme precautions.

As soon as the president had called the conference to order, just after twelve o’clock, the American secretary of the treasury rose to address the members. His manner even before he began to speak was extremely grave, and his opening words were so ominous that the faces of the men who listened, accustomed though they were to dealings with great affairs, became anxious and apprehensive. This was what he said:

“Mr. President and Gentlemen: It is known to most of you that the United States government has followed a somewhat peculiar course in taking the initiative for the summoning of this conference. You will expect, therefore, some explanation of its action from the representatives of that government, and such explanation it is my duty to place before you. We bring to you a task so difficult and yet so delicate, that if its nature should be but suspected outside this chamber, all hope of its successful performance would disappear. You will pardon me, therefore, if I preface my message to you with a word of warning. I am about to make known to you a fact so ominous, so threatening to the world’s prosperity and the financial systems of all countries, that the president of the United States has deemed it wise in summoning this conference to withhold it even from the governments which you represent. I beg of you at the outset, therefore, that not only shall the ordinary obligations of secrecy, which of course we all recognize, be imposed, but that for a time at least we shall restrict ourselves even from communicating the subject of our deliberations to our official superiors. I know that I am making an unprecedented request, a request which some of you on first consideration will feel yourselves powerless to grant. I shall not press the suggestion upon you for decision, until the facts which seem to me to justify it are fully before you. The nature of those facts will reveal to you a peril, which not only warrants, but impels the assumption of an authority and responsibility which under ordinary circumstances we should seek to avoid.

“I now come to the burden of my message, which is soon discharged. It relates to the sudden influx of gold in the markets of the world, chiefly in America, during the last year. All of you are familiar with the effects of this extraordinary increase in the supply of the standard monetary metal. Every market in the world has felt its influence, while in the United States the foundations of our financial and commercial welfare have been severely shaken. Since the assembling of this conference was proposed a few weeks ago, there has been some subsidence of the general disturbance, and the monetary world has shown a tendency to adjust itself to the new conditions. It is my painful duty to destroy such confidence as you may have in the security of the present financial or monetary situation.

“The quantity of gold which was added to the world’s monetary supply during the first nine months of 1895, in addition to the normal output of the mines, was no less a sum than five hundred millions of dollars, one hundred million pounds sterling. This was native gold, all coming from a single source. The owner of this metal has since withdrawn from circulation about one half this sum either in gold or legal tender. This action partly accounts for the checking of the financial disturbance in the United States. The danger which we have already faced is bad enough, but it is insignificant in comparison with that which I have to reveal to you. It is this:

“There remains in the same vault from which these millions have been taken, the equivalent of nearly three billion dollars, six hundred millions sterling, in the crude gold of nature.”

The effect of this announcement upon his hearers was so great that the secretary of the treasury stopped speaking for a moment. Some faces were pale, others flushed, all bore evidence of intensest feeling. All the dignity of a great international court vanished. They needed no explanation to carry to their minds the full significance of the speaker’s words. The personal application of the sudden news came home first to some of them. One man of many millions, who a few minutes before had appeared the embodiment of the conscious power of wealth, seemed stricken with an agony almost of death. His face turned haggard with sudden age. Unconsciously, he wiped away the cold drops that gathered upon his forehead, muttering aloud:

“It is ruin, ruin for us all!”

A great French banker sitting next him heard the words and sprang to his feet in sudden passion.

“It is not ruin,” he cried hotly. “Who is this man that threatens the world with his gold? Let him be seized. Let the gold be taken from him. Let it be destroyed. No man can crush us all in this fashion. Desperate conditions demand desperate remedies. It is a case for a coup d’état.”

The outburst evidently found sympathetic listeners. The looks of dismay, of terror even, began to give place to returning self-possession after the first shock of surprise was over. The president himself, almost as much overcome at first as any of his associates, rose to his feet, and in rather unsteady voice begged the conference to listen further to the American representative. The secretary of the treasury had remained standing, watching with keen solicitude the effect of his revelation. Every man turned instantly to him and gave to his following words most intense attention.

“I am glad to be able to assure you, gentlemen,” he resumed, “that desperate measures are quite unnecessary. The owner of this gold is as anxious as you are to avoid bringing any calamity or financial evil upon his own or any other country. It was, indeed, at his suggestion that the president invited the powers to send delegates to this conference. With unparalleled generosity and laudable sagacity he desires to place the fate of his vast treasure in your hands. That is the task which I bring you, gentlemen, and I know you will give to it the unselfish and sagacious consideration which its importance demands. I renew now my suggestion that all knowledge of our deliberations shall be confined strictly to the actual members of this board.”

An English delegate took the floor the moment the secretary sat down.

“I desire, Mr. President, to second the motion of the United States secretary of the treasury,” he said impressively. “I do this in direct violation of the instructions of my government, but it is a responsibility which I do not hesitate for a moment to assume. The emergency demands it so clearly in my mind that the question seems scarcely debatable. I am still so far overwhelmed by the stupendous revelation to which we have listened, that I am not prepared yet to discuss it beyond taking this obvious precaution for guarding against the terrible calamity which a disclosure of this secret would bring upon us.”

The proposition was at once adopted unanimously by the conference. The representative of the United States cabinet again took the floor, saying:

“I have purposely refrained, gentlemen, from saying anything about the history of the enormous treasure which I have described, or about the details of what has thus far been done with it. The owner of the gold has come with me to Paris. I much prefer that you learn from his own lips all that he has to impart about his past policy and his plan. I move, Mr. President, that Mr. Robert Brent, of New York, be invited to attend the sessions of this conference and that he be privileged to take part in all debates.”

The motion was instantly passed, and the secretary left the room to secure the attendance of the man of whom these great men of statesmanship and finance found themselves in sudden awe.

When Robert Brent entered rather diffidently the magnificent chamber a few minutes later, he found himself the object of an interest that was rather disconcerting. As he advanced up the room by the side of the secretary, the president of the conference suddenly left his high seat and came to meet him. In an instant every man present followed his example. The young man was surrounded by distinguished potentates, anxious to do him honor. Little was said. It did not seem to be an occasion for many words. Brent grasped the hands held out to him cordially and at length proceeded to a seat by the secretary’s side. When the president had again taken the chair, the secretary formally introduced the young man to the conference, inviting him to explain his position and purpose.

Brent faced his small but distinguished audience with evident embarrassment and hesitation. The almost painful eagerness and earnestness in every countenance speedily made it clear to him that his words were awaited with a deference entirely free from criticism. Strong emotion unmasks most faces, and there was fear and admiration and bewilderment still upon the features of the proud men who now hung expectant upon the words of the young American of whose existence they had been ignorant an hour before. Such is the mastery of gold!

Brent’s embarrassment gave place to an uncomfortable sense of undeserved power which he had usurped from these, its rightful custodians! It led him to speak deprecatingly, almost apologetically, of himself and his difficulties. He described as fully as he was able the history of his treasure and his operations in the financial world during the previous year. Coming at length to the question at issue, he said:

“With the best intentions in the world, I have inflicted great wrongs, especially upon my own country. I have done what I could to repair some of the damage I have caused. But I realize clearly now, as no doubt you do at a glance, that the greatest evil of all is still impending. The simple possession of more than five thousand tons of unknown, unused gold, under the present circumstances, is a crime of which I will not be guilty a moment longer than I can help. I place the fate of this treasure entirely, unreservedly in your hands. I have no personal wishes in the matter, not even any suggestions to offer. The task is too great for me. I assumed it at first without hesitation and with the foolish confidence of ignorance. It seemed to my thoughtless enthusiasm the simplest portion of my plan of gold-getting. I believed, when I had locked the last box of gold in the vault in New York, that my difficulties were practically at an end. The mischief which my blind self-assurance has wrought will be a life-long reproach to me.

“To be absolutely honest, I cannot plead complete ignorance of the dangers which I risked. Some of them I dimly foresaw, after I had seriously grappled the problem which I have now delegated to you. A selfish desire to escape if possible the penalties of wealth—the notoriety, the curiosity, the adulation, the insincerities, the importunities—led me to conceal my secret, when I should have sought the best counsel at the outset. I hope I am not now too late in performing this duty. Whatever your honorable body shall advise, I will execute. I place at your disposal not only the gold not yet used, but certain other moneys and securities, embracing all of my property with the exception of a fund of $100,000,000, which I reserve for the carrying out of certain obligations which I have undertaken, and in part for my own use. The remainder, and it will amount at a rough estimate to $3,300,000,000, or £660,000,000 sterling, shall be devoted in whole or in part in such manner as you prescribe to the execution of international enterprises too great for private capital to undertake. Or I am prepared, if you so advise, even to sink the treasure in mid-Atlantic.”

The motionless, almost breathless silence in which the conference had listened continued for a moment after Brent had finished. It was broken by a French delegate, who sprang to his feet, and without any of the dignified formalities which the occasion demanded, exclaimed excitedly:

“The gentleman has named the solution of the problem in his last sentence. It is the only solution. Any other will bring disaster, ruin, chaos. Let the gold be sunk in the sea!”

“The honorable representative of France may be right, Mr. President,” said a great German banker in response, “but we have before us a task which demands the most careful, the most profound consideration which we can give to it. We have all of us, I doubt not, been overwhelmed by the mere statement of its terms. We are in no way prepared at this moment to devote that calm and dispassionate thought to the subject which is necessary. I move that the sitting be suspended until to-morrow.”

The formal session was speedily ended in response to the motion, but no one left the chamber. All gathered about Brent and plied him with questions so incessantly that two hours had passed before any one thought of going. Even then the delegates separated with the agreement to meet again for informal consultation in the evening at one of the hotels. The dispatches which they sent to their respective governments were non-committal and evasive, while other inquirers about the business of the conference were refused any information.

No attempt was made at the subsequent sessions to return to the formalities and dignities of procedure which the startling nature of the opening speech had so effectually banished. The debates were man to man business consultations of the most earnest and practical description. Nobody had any pet theories to put forward or any hobbies to ride. There was a single-minded purpose on the part of every man to seek and find an escape from a danger which, in the estimation of them all, grew more threatening and more appalling every hour.

They recognized at once the necessity for reaching an early solution of their problem. The secrecy of their deliberations might itself excite suspicions. Their home governments would soon become displeased over their reticence. In fact, the British ministry intimated very promptly to the English delegates that their silence regarding the proceedings of the conference was unsatisfactory. It became necessary to limit the time during which the policy of secrecy should be continued. The delegates finally informed their superiors at home that they had bound themselves to preserve silence in regard to all matters coming before the conference for one month. In cases where this was a violation of instructions, cabinet ministers were informed that the step seemed justified by certain exigencies of the situation, and that the end must justify the temporary defiance of authority.

In the early stage of their deliberations, the temptation was strong upon the delegates to adopt the easy and obvious plan suggested by Brent at his first appearance before them. If the entire mass of gold should be loaded once more upon a ship and sunk in the fathomless depths of mid-ocean, the unique problem would be completely solved, and none like it would ever arise probably to distract the brain of man.

But there was something inherently revolting and intolerable, especially to these men of money, in the thought of thus destroying untouched and unused the greatest mass of what the world regards as wealth which had ever come into the possession of men. Reason told them, so they all agreed at the outset, that to attempt to employ this treasure in the monetary world would destroy or reduce to almost nothing the value of all gold, now held in the belief that it was the securest form of wealth. They did not need to go beyond the a, b, c of finance and political economy to make that truth apparent.

Two or three of the older delegates recalled the agitation in the money markets of the world which followed the California gold discoveries of 1849. There had been a loud clamor, especially in the United States, for the demonetization of gold, for the same reason that silver was attacked as a monetary metal when its production increased in large proportion. The yellow metal had been almost in disgrace for several years, while its modest white rival had possessed in a higher degree the essential quality of stability.

At one time, early in their deliberations, the old controversy between bimetallists and monometallists which the problem so closely involved threatened to make some division among the delegates. But the danger was soon overcome. Monetary conditions throughout the world had already been so changed by the influence of the fraction of Brent’s treasure which had been poured into the channels of trade that matters of argument a year before had now become matters of accepted fact. Previous opinions and convictions were willingly revised in the light of new and unsuspected conditions. No man sitting at the conference board was so strongly wedded to hobbies or theories as to oppose them for an instant to the stupendous facts now presented.

The air was most effectually cleared at the moment a disagreement seemed possible, by a plain, straightforward statement of the situation by one of the English delegates. Speaking in simple, business-like fashion, he said:

“Gentlemen, I do not think we need concern ourselves too seriously with the question of bimetallism. It is a matter which need not be directly passed upon by this conference. I admit that our decree upon the fate of this gold will have an almost decisive effect upon the monetary use of silver; but let us look at the matter from another and I believe broader point of view.

“Our problem really amounts to this: How shall we, in deciding the destiny of this gold, secure to the world the greatest stability of monetary values? In other words, how much if any of this gold can be devoted to monetary and general use without seriously disturbing proper standards of value? When we settle that point, the ratio between gold and silver will adjust itself. I submit that it is not in the power of any government or combination of governments to fix that ratio arbitrarily in defiance of the actual ratio of the supply of the two metals.

“Look at the matter for one moment in the light of history. The fluctuations have been great, and dependent solely upon supply and demand. Go back as far as Darius, and the ratio was thirteen to one. After the pillage of the Temple of Delphi, B.C. 357, it fell to ten to one. In the Roman world it rose as high as seventeen to one, but after Cæsar’s return, loaded with spoils from Gaul, it was reduced to nine to one. In the Middle Ages it ranged between ten and twelve to one. It began to rise soon after 1600, and in 1717 the English government fixed the ratio at 15.2 to one. The relative supply of the two metals has always fixed their relative values, and it always will continue to do so.

“Our task is to determine what is the world’s necessary consumption of gold; that is, what should be the annual supply for maintaining a steady standard of values. Solve that problem and our work is done. The gold production of the world during recent years has averaged little more than twenty-five millions sterling ($125,000,000). In 1852 it was thirty-six millions sterling. The latter yield was too great, no doubt, for the world’s financial needs at that day; but most of us will agree, I think, that the vastly increased trade of the end of the century demands much more than the comparatively meager supply of recent years. In fact, the world was suffering from the first stages of a gold famine when Mr. Brent landed his cargo of treasure in New York.