THE LOCKSMITH OF PHILADELPHIA.

BY PEREGRINE.

In the sober-looking city of Philadelphia there dwelt, some years ago, an ingenious and clever mechanic named AMOS SPARKS, by trade a locksmith. Nature had blessed him with a peculiar turn for the branch of business to which he had been bred. Not only was he skilled in the manufacture and repair of the various articles that in America are usually regarded as "in the locksmith line;" but, prompted by a desire to master the more abstruse intricacies of the business, he had studied it so attentively, and with such distinguished success, that his proficiency was the theme of admiration, not only with his customers and the neighbourhood, but all who took an interest in mechanical contrivances in the adjoining towns. His counter was generally strewed with various kinds of fastenings for doors, trunks, and desks, which nobody but himself could open; and no lock was ever presented to Amos that he could not pick in a very short time. Like many men of talent in other departments, Amos Sparks was poor. Though a very industrious and prudent man, with a small and frugal family, he merely eked out a comfortable existence, but never seemed to accumulate property. Whether it was that he was not of the race of money-grubs, whose instinctive desire of accumulation forces them to earn and hoard without a thought beyond the mere means of acquisition, or whether the time occupied by the prosecution of new inquiries into still undiscovered regions of his favourite pursuit, and in conversation with those who came to inspect and admire the fruits of his ingenuity, were the cause of his poverty, we cannot un. dertake to determine; but, perhaps, various causes combined to keep his finances low, and it was quite as notorious in the city that Amos Sparks was a poor man, as that he was an ingenious and decent me chanic. But his business was sufficient for the supply of his wants, and those of his family, so he studied and worked on, and was content.

It happened that in the autumn of 18—, a merchant in the city, whose business was rather extensive, and who had been bustling about the Quay and on board his vessels all the morning, returned to his counting-house to lodge several thousand dollars in the Philadelphia bank, to retire some paper falling due that day, when, to his surprise, he found that he had either lost or mislaid the key of his iron chest. After diligent search, with no success, he was led to conclude that, in drawing out his handkerchief, he had dropped the key in the street, or perhaps into the dock. What was to be done?-it was one o'clock,-the bank closed at three, and there was no time to advertise the key or to muster so large a sum as that required. In his perplexity the merchant thought of the poor locksmith; he had often heard of Amos Sparks; the case seemed one peculiarly adapted to a trial of his powers, and being a desperate one, if he could not furnish a remedy, where else was there reasonable expectation of succour? A clerk was hurried off for Amos, and having explained the difficulty, speedily reappeared, followed by the locksmith, with his implements in his hand. A few minutes

sufficed to open the chest, and the astonished merchant glanced from the rolls of bank-notes and piles of coin strewed along the bottom, to the clock in the corner of the office, which told him that he had still three-quarters of an hour, with a feeling of delight and exultation, like one who had escaped from an unexpected dilemma by a lucky thought, and who felt that his credit was from a momentary breath of suspicion. He fancied he felt generous as well as glad, and determined that it should be a cash transaction.

secure even

"How much is to pay, Amos?" said he, thrusting his hand into his pocket.

"Five dollars, sir," said Sparks.

"Five dollars! why, you are mad, man; you have not been five minutes doing the job. Come," (the genuine spirit of traffic overcoming the better feelings which had momentary possession of his bosom,) "I'll give you five shillings."

"It is true," replied the locksmith, "that much time has not been employed; but remember how many long years I have been learning to do such a job in five minutes, or even to do it at all. A doctor's

visit may last but one minute, the service he renders may be but doubtful when all is done, and yet his fee would be as great if not greater than mine. You should be willing to purchase my skill, humble as it may be, as you would purchase any other commodity in the market, by what it is worth to you."

"Worth to me," said the merchant, with a sneer; "well, I think it was worth five shillings: I could have got a new key made for that, or perhaps might have found the old one.

"But could you have got the one made, or found the other, in time to retire your notes at the bank? Had I been disposed to wrong you, taking advantage of your haste and perplexity, I might have bargained for a much larger sum, and as there is not another man in the city who could have opened the chest, you would gladly have given me double the amount I now claim."

"Double the amount! why the man's a fool! Here are the five shillings," said the merchant, holding them in his hand, with the air of a rich man taking advantage of a poor one who could not help himself; "and if you do not choose to take them, why, you may sue as soon as you please, for my time is too precious just now to spend in a matter so trifling."

"I never sued a man in my life," said Sparks; "and I have lost much by my forbearance. But," added he, the trodden worm of a meek spirit beginning to recoil, "you are rich--are able to pay; and although I will not sue you, pay you shall."

The words were scarcely spoken, when he dashed down the lid of the chest, and in a moment the strong staples were firmly clasped by the bolts below, and the gold and bank-notes were hidden as effectually as though they had vanished like the ill-gotten hoards in the fairytale.

The merchant stood aghast. He looked at Amos, and then darted a glance at the clock; the hand was within twenty minutes of three, and seemed posting over the figures with the speed of light. What was to be done? At first he tried to bully, but it would not do. Amos told him if he had sustained any injury," he might sue as soon as he pleased, for that his time was too precious just now to be wasted in

trifling affairs," and with a face of unruffled composure, he turned on his heel and was leaving the office.

The merchant called him back: he had no alternative,—his credit was at stake,-half the city would swear that he had lost the key to gain time, and because there was no money in the chest: he was humbled by the necessity of the case, and, handing forth the five dollars, "There, Sparks," said he, "take your money, and let us have no more words."

“I must have ten dollars now," replied the locksmith: "you would have taken advantage of a poor man; and, besides opening your strong box there, I have a lesson to give you which is well worth a trifling sum. You would not only have deprived me of what had been fairly earned, but have tempted me into a lawsuit which would have ruined my family. You will never in future presume upon your wealth in your dealings with the poor, without thinking of the locksmith, and these five dollars may save you much sin and much repentance.

This homily, besides being preached in a tone of calm deliberation which left no room to hope for any abatement, had exhausted another minute or two of the time already so precious; for the minutes, like the Sibyl's books, increased in value as they diminished in number. The merchant hurriedly counted out ten dollars, which Amos deliberately inspected, to see that they belonged to no broken bank, and then deposited in his breeches pocket.

"For Heaven's sake, be quick, man! I would not have the bank close before this money is paid for fifty dollars!" exclaimed the mer

chant.

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"I thought so," was the locksmith's grave reply; but not being a malicious or vindictive man, and satisfied with the punishment already inflicted, he delayed no longer, but opened the chest, giving its owner time to seize the cash and reach the bank, after a rapid flight, a few minutes before it closed.

About a month after this affair, the Philadelphia bank was robbed of coin and notes to the amount of fifty thousand dollars. The bars of a window had been cut, and the vault entered so ingeniously, that it was evident that the burglar had possessed, besides daring courage, a good deal of mechanical skill. The police scoured the city and country round about, but no clue to the discovery of the robbery could be traced. Everybody who had anything to lose, felt that daring and ingenious felons were abroad, who might probably pay them a visit; all were therefore interested in their discovery and conviction. Suspicion at length began to settle upon Sparks. But yet his poverty and known integrity seemed to give them the lie. The story of the iron chest, which the merchant had hitherto been ashamed and Amos too forgiving to tell, for the latter did not care to set the town laughing even at the man who had wronged him, now began to be noised abroad. The merchant, influenced by a vindictive spirit, had whispered it to the directors of the bank, with sundry shrugs and inuendoes, and, of course it soon spread far and wide, with all sorts of exaggerated variations and additions. Amos thought for several days that some of his neighbours looked and acted rather oddly, and he missed one or two who used to drop in and chat almost every afternoon; but, not suspecting for a moment that there was any cause for altered behaviour, these matters made

but a slight impression on his mind. In all such cases the person most interested is the last to hear disagreeable news; and the first hint that the locksmith got of the universal suspicion, was from the officer of the police, who came with a party of constables to search his premises. Astonishment and grief were, of course, the portion of Amos and his family for that day. The first shock to a house. hold who had derived, even amidst their humble poverty, much satisfaction from the possession of a good name-a property they had been taught to value above all earthly treasures-may be easily conceived. To have defrauded a neighbour of sixpence would have been a meanness no one of them would have been guilty of,—but fifty thousand dollars! the immensity of the sum seemed to clothe the suspicion with a weight of terror that nearly pressed them to the earth. They clung to each other, with bruised and fluttered spirits, while the search was proceeding, and it was not until it was completed, and the officer declared himself satisfied that there was none of the missing property on the premises, that they began to raily and look calmly at the circumstances which seemed, for the moment, to menace the peace and security they had hitherto enjoyed.

"Cheer up, my darlings!" said Amos, who was the first to recover the sobriety of thought that usually characterized him,— "cheer up! all will yet be well; it is impossible that this unjust suspicion can long hover about us. A life of honesty and fair dealing will not be without its reward: there was perhaps something in my trade, and the skill which long practice had given me in it, that naturally enough led the credulous, the thoughtless, and perhaps the mischievous, if any such there be connected with this inquiry, to look towards us. But the real authors of this outrage will probably be discovered soon; for a fraud so extensive will make all parties vigilant, and if not, why then, when our neighbours see us toiling at our usual occupations, with no evidences of increased wealth or lavish expenditure on our persons or at our board, and remember how many years we were so occupied, and so attired, without a suspicion of wrong-doing, even in small matters, attaching to us, there will be good sense and good feeling enough in the city to do us justice."

There were sound sense and much consolation in this reasoning; the obvious probabilities of the case were in favour of the fulfilment of the locksmith's expectations. But a scene of trial and excitement, of prolonged agony and hope deferred, lay before him, the extent of which it would have been difficult, if not impossible, for him then to have foreseen. Foiled in the search, the directors of the bank sent one of their body to negotiate with Amos; to offer him a large sum of money, and a guarantee from further molestation, if he would confess, restore the property, and give up his accomplices, if any there were. It was in vain that he protested his innocence, and avowed his abhorrence of the crime; the banker rallied him on his assumed composure, and threatened him with consequences, until the locksmith, who had been unaccustomed to dialogues founded on the presumption that he was a villain, ordered his tormentor out of his shop, with the spirit of a man who, though poor, was resolved to preserve his self-respect, and protect the sanctity of his dwelling from impertinent and insulting intrusion. A con

The banker retired, baffled, and threatening vengeance.

sultation was held, and it was finally determined to arrest Sparks, and commit him to prison, in the hope that by shutting him up, and separating him from his family and accomplices, he would be less upon his guard against the collection of evidence necessary to a conviction, and perhaps be frightened into terms, or induced to make a full confession. This was a severe blow to the family. They could have borne much together, for mutual counsel and sympathy can soothe many of the ills of life; but to be divided-to have the strongest mind, around which the feebler ones had been accustomed to cling, carried away captive to brood in solitary confinement on an unjust accusation, was almost too much, when coupled with the cloud of suspicion that seemed to gather around their home, and infect the very air they breathed. The privations forced upon them by the want of the locksmith's earnings were borne without a murmer; and out of the little that could be mustered, a portion was always reserved to buy some trifling but unexpected comfort or luxury to carry to the prison.

Some months having passed without Sparks having made any confession, or the discovery of any new fact whereby his guilt might be established, his persecutors found themselves reluctantly compelled to bring him to trial. They had not a tittle of evidence, except some strange locks and implements found in the shop, and which proved the talent, but not the guilt, of the mechanic. Yet these were so various, and executed with such elaborate art, and such an evident expenditure of labour, that but few either of the judges, jury, or spectators, could be persuaded that a man so poor would have devoted himself so sedulously to such an employment unless he had some other object in view than mere instruction or amusement. His friends and neighbours gave him an excellent character; but, on the cross-examination, all admitted his entire devotion to his favourite pursuit. The counsel for the bank ex. erted himself with consummate ability calculating in some degree on the state of the public mind, and the influence which vague rumours, coupled with the evidences of the mechanic's handicraft exhibited in court, might have on the mind of the jury, he dwelt upon every ward and winding, on the story of the iron chest, on the evident poverty of the locksmith, and yet his apparent waste of time, if all this work were not intended to ensure success in some vast design. He believed that a verdict would be immediately fol. lowed by a confession, for he thought Amos guilty: and he suc. ceeded in making the belief pretty general among his audience. Some of the jury were half inclined to speculate on the probabilities of a confession; and, swept away by the current of suspicion, were not indisposed to convict without evidence, in order that the result might do credit to their penetration. But this was impossible, even in an American court of justice, in the good old times of which we write. Hanging persons on suspicion, and acquitting felons because the mob think murder no crime, are modern inventions. The charge of the judge was clear and decisive: he admitted that there were grounds of suspicion-that there were circumstances connected with the prisoner's peculiar mode of life that were not reconcilable with the lowness of his finances; but yet, of direct testimony, there was not a vestige, and of circumstantial evidence there were not only links wanting in the chain, but in fact there was