"Have you examined that bill, James?"
"Yes, sir."
"Anything wrong?"
"I find two errors."
"Ah, let me see."
The lad handed his employer a long bill that had been placed on his
desk for examination.
"Here is an error in the calculation of ten dollars, which they have
made against themselves; and another of ten dollars in the footing."
"Also against themselves?"
"Yes, sir."
The merchant smiled in a way that struck the lad as peculiar.
"Twenty dollars against themselves," he remarked in a kind of pleasant
surprise. "Trusty clerks they must have!"
"Shall I correct the figures?" asked the lad.
"No, let them correct their own mistakes. We don't examine bills for
other people's benefit," replied the merchant. "It will be time to
rectify those errors when they find them out. All so much gain as it
now stands."
The boy's delicate moral sense was shocked at so unexpected a remark.
He was the son of a poor widow, who had given him to understand that
to be just was the duty of man.
Mr. Carman, the merchant in whose employment he had been for only a
few months, was an old friend of his father, and a person in whom he
reposed the highest confidence. In fact, James had always looked upon
him as a kind of model man; and when Mr. Carman agreed to take him
into his store, he felt that great good fortune was in his way.
"Let them correct their own mistakes." These words made a strong
impression on the mind of James Lewis. When first spoken by Mr.
Carman, and with the meaning then involved, he felt, as we have said,
shocked; but as he turned them over again in his thoughts, and
connected their utterance with a person who stood so high in his
mother's estimation, he began to think that perhaps the thing was fair
enough in business. Mr. Carman was hardly the man to do wrong. A few
days after James had examined the bill, a clerk from the house by
which it had been rendered, called for settlement. The lad, who was
present, waited with interest to see whether Mr. Carman would speak of
the error. But he made no remark. A check for the amount of the bill
rendered, was filled up, and a receipt taken.
"Is that right?" James asked himself this question. His moral sense
said no; but the fact that Mr. Carman had so acted, bewildered his
mind.
"It may be the way in business"--so he thought to himself--"but it
don't look honest. I wouldn't have believed it of him."
Mr. Carman had a kind of way with him that won the boy's heart, and
naturally tended to make him judge of whatever he might do in a most
favorable manner.
"I wish he had corrected that error," he said to himself a great many
times when thinking in a pleased way of Mr. Carman, and his own good
fortune in having been received into his employment. "It don't look
right, but it may be in the way of business."
One day he went to the bank and drew the money for a check. In
counting it over he found that the teller had paid him fifty dollars
too much, so he went back to the counter and told him of his mistake.
The teller thanked him, and he returned to the store with the
consciousness in his mind of having done right.
"The teller overpaid me by fifty dollars," he said to Mr. Carman, as
he handed him the money.
"Indeed," replied the latter, a light breaking over his countenance;
and he hastily counted the bank bills.
The light faded as the last bill left his fingers.
"There's no mistake, James." A tone of disappointment was in his
voice.
"Oh, I gave him back the fifty dollars. Wasn't that right?"
"You simpleton!" exclaimed Mr. Carman. "Don't you know that bank
mistakes are never corrected? If the teller had paid you fifty dollars
short he would not have made it right."
The warm blood mantled the cheek of James under this reproof. It is
often the case that more shame is felt for a blunder than a crime. In
this instance the lad felt a sort of mortification at having done what
Mr. Carman was pleased to call a silly thing, and he made up his mind
that if they should ever overpay him a thousand dollars at the bank,
he should bring the amount to his employer, and let him do as he
pleased with the money.
"Let people look after their own mistakes," said Mr. Carman.
James Lewis pondered these things in his heart. The impression they
made was too strong ever to be forgotten. "It may be right," he said,
but he did not feel altogether satisfied.
A month or two after the occurrence of that bad mistake, as James
counted over his weekly wages, just received from Mr. Carman, he
discovered that he was paid half a dollar too much.
The first impulse of his mind was to return the half-dollar to his
employer, and it was on his lips to say, "You have given me half a
dollar too much, sir," when the unforgotten words, "Let people look
after their own mistakes," flashing upon his thoughts, made him
hesitate. To hold a parley with evil is to be overcome.
"I must think about this," said James, as he put the money in his
pocket. "If it is true in one case, it is true in another. Mr. Carman
don't correct mistakes that people make in his favor, and he can't
complain when the rule works against him."
But the boy was very far from being in a comfortable state. He felt
that to keep half a dollar would be a dishonest act. Still he could
not make up his mind to return it, at least not then.
James did not return the half-dollar, but spent it to his own
gratification. After he had done this it came suddenly into his head
that Mr. Carman had only been trying him, and he was filled with
anxiety and alarm.
Not long after Mr. Carman repeated the same mistake. James kept the
half-dollar with less hesitation.
"Let him correct his own mistakes," said he resolutely; "that's the
doctrine he acts on with other people, and he can't complain if he
gets paid in the same coin he puts in circulation. I just wanted half
a dollar."
From this time the fine moral sense of James Lewis was blunted. He had
taken an evil counselor into his heart, stimulated a spirit of
covetousness--latent in almost every mind--which caused him to
desire the possession of things beyond his ability to obtain.
James had good business qualifications, and so pleased Mr. Carman by
his intelligence, industry, and tact with customers, that he advanced
him rapidly, and gave him, before he was eighteen years of age, the
most reliable position in the store. But James had learned something
more from his employer than how to do business well. He had learned to
be dishonest. He had never forgotten the first lesson he had received
in this bad science; he had acted upon it, not only in two instances,
but in a hundred, and almost always to the injury of Mr. Carman. He
had long since given up waiting for mistakes to be made in his favor,
but originated them in the varied and complicated transactions of a
large business in which he was trusted implicitly.
James grew sharp, cunning, and skilful; always on the alert; always
bright, and ready to meet any approaches towards a discovery of his
wrong-doing by his employer, who held him in the highest regard.
Thus it went on until James Lewis was in his twentieth year, when the
merchant had his suspicions aroused by a letter that spoke of the
young man as not keeping the most respectable company, and as spending
money too freely for a clerk on a moderate salary.
Before this time James had removed his mother into a pleasant house,
for which he paid a rent of four hundred dollars; his salary was eight
hundred, but he deceived his mother by telling her it was fifteen
hundred. Every comfort that she needed was fully supplied, and she was
beginning to feel that, after a long and painful struggle with the
world, her happier days had come.
James was at his desk when the letter was received by Mr. Carman. He
looked at his employer and saw him change countenance suddenly. He
read it over twice, and James saw that the contents produced
disturbance. Mr. Carman glanced towards the desk, and their eyes met;
it was only for a moment, but the look that James received made his
heart stop beating.
There was something about the movements of Mr. Carman for the rest of
the day that troubled the young man. It was plain to him that
suspicion had been aroused by that letter. Oh, how bitterly now did he
repent, in dread of discovery and punishment, the evil of which he had
been guilty! Exposure would disgrace and ruin him, and bow the head of
his widowed mother even to the grave.
"You are not well this evening," said Mrs. Lewis, as she looked at her
son's changed face across the table, and noticed that he did not eat.
"My head aches."
"Perhaps a rest will make you feel better."
"I'll lie down on the sofa in the parlor for a short time."
Mrs. Lewis followed him into the parlor in a little while, and,
sitting down on the sofa on which he was lying, placed her hand upon
his head. Ah, it would take more than the loving pressure of a
mother's hand to ease the pain from which he was suffering. The touch
of that pure hand increased the pain to agony.
"Do you feel better?" asked Mrs. Lewis. She had remained some time
with her hand on his forehead.
"Not much," he replied, and rising as he spoke, he added, "I think a
walk in the open air will do me good."
"Don't go out, James," said Mrs. Lewis, a troubled feeling coming into
her heart.
"I'll walk only a few squares." And James went from the parlor and
passed into the street.
"There is something more than headache the matter with him," thought
Mrs. Lewis.
For half an hour James walked without any purpose in his mind beyond
the escape from the presence of his mother. At last his walk brought
him near Mr. Carman's store, and at passing he was surprised at seeing
a light within.
"What can this mean?" he asked himself, a new fear creeping, with its
shuddering impulse, into his heart.
He listened by the door and windows, but he could hear no sound
within.
"There's something wrong," he said, "what can it be? If this is
discovered what will be the end of it? Ruin! ruin! My poor mother!"
The wretched young man hastened on, walked the streets for two hours,
when he returned home. His mother met him when he entered, and with
unconcealed anxiety, asked him if he were better. He said yes, but in
a manner that only increased the trouble she felt, and passed up
hastily to his own room.
In the morning the strangely altered face of James, as he met his
mother at the breakfast table, struck alarm into her heart. He was
silent, and evaded all her questions. While they sat at the table the
door-bell rang loudly. The sound startled James, and he turned his
head to listen, in a nervous way.
"Who is it?" asked Mrs. Lewis.
"A gentleman who wishes to see Mr. James," replied the girl.
James rose instantly and went out into the hall, shutting the
dining-room door as he did so. Mrs. Lewis sat waiting her son's
return. She heard him coming back in a few moments; but he did not
enter the dining-room. Then he returned along the hall to the street
door and she heard it shut. All was silent. Starting up, she ran into
the passage, but James was not there. He had gone away with the person
who called.
Ah, that was a sad going away. Mr. Carman had spent half the night in
examining the accounts of James, and discovered frauds of over six
thousand dollars. Blindly indignant, he sent an officer to arrest him
early in the morning; and it was with this officer that he went away
from his mother, _never_ to _return_.
"The young villain shall lie in the bed he has made for himself!"
exclaimed Mr. Carman, in his bitter indignation. And he made the
exposure completely. At the trial he showed an eager desire to have
him convicted, and presented such an array of evidence that the jury
could not give any other verdict than guilty.
The poor mother was in court, and audibly in the silence that followed
came her convulsed sobs upon the air. The presiding judge addressed
the culprit, and asked if he had anything to say why the sentence
should not be pronounced against him. All eyes were turned upon the
pale, agitated young man, who rose with an effort, and leaned against
the railing by which he stood, as if needing the support.
"Will it please your honors," he said, "to direct my prosecutor to
come a little nearer, so that I can look at him and your honors at the
same time?"
Mr. Carman was directed to come forward to where the boy stood. James
looked at him steadily for a few moments, and turned to the judges.
"What I have to say to your honors is this [he spoke calmly and
distinctly], and it may in a degree extenuate, though it cannot
excuse, my crime. I went into that man's store an innocent boy, and if
he had been an honest man I would not have stood before you to-day as
a criminal!"
Mr. Carman appealed to the court for protection against an allegation
of such an outrageous character; but he was peremptorily ordered to be
silent. James went on in a firm voice,--
"Only a few weeks after I went into his employment I examined a bill
by his direction, and discovered an error of twenty dollars."
The face of Mr. Carman crimsoned.
"You remember it, I see," remarked James, "and I shall have cause to
remember it as long as I live. The error was in favor of Mr. Carman. I
asked if I should correct the figures, and he answered 'No; let them
correct their own mistakes. We don't examine bills for other people's
benefit.' It was my first lesson in dishonesty. I saw the bill
settled, and Mr. Carman take twenty dollars that was not his own. I
felt shocked at first; it seemed such a wrong thing. But soon after he
called me a simpleton for handing back a fifty-dollar bill to the
teller of a bank, which he had overpaid me on a check, and then--"
"May I ask the protection of the court," said Mr. Carman.
"Is it true what the lad says?" asked the presiding judge.
Mr. Carman hesitated and looked confused. All eyes were on his face;
and judges and jury, lawyers and spectators, felt certain that he was
guilty of leading the unhappy young man astray.
"Not long afterward," resumed Lewis, "in receiving my wages I found
that Mr. Carman had paid me fifty cents too much. I was about to give
it back to him, when I remembered his remark about letting people
correct their own mistakes, and said to myself, 'Let him correct his
own errors,' and dishonestly kept the money. Again the same thing
happened, and I kept the money that did not of right belong to me.
This was the beginning of evil, and here I am. If he had shown any
mercy, I might have kept silent and made no defense."
The young man covered his face with his hands, and sat down
overpowered with his feelings. His mother who was near him sobbed
aloud, and bending over, laid her hands on his head, saying:--
"My poor boy! my poor boy!"
There were few eyes in the court-room undimmed. In the silence that
followed Mr. Carman spoke out:--
"Is my character to be thus blasted on the word of a criminal, your
honors? Is this right?"
"Your solemn oath that this charge is untrue," said the judge, "will
place you in the right." It was the unhappy boy's only opportunity,
and the court felt bound in humanity to hear him.
James Lewis stood up again instantly, and turned his white face and
dark, piercing eyes upon Mr. Carman.
"Let him take his oath if he dare!" he exclaimed.
Mr. Carman consulted with his counsel, and withdrew.
After a brief conference with his associates, the presiding judge
said, addressing the criminal:--
"In consideration of your youth, and the temptation to which in tender
years you were unhappily subject, the court gives you the slightest
sentence, one year's imprisonment. But let me solemnly warn you
against any further steps in the way you have taken. Crime can have no
valid excuse. It is evil in the sight of God and man, and leads only
to suffering. When you come forth again after your brief
incarceration, may it be with the resolution to die rather than commit
crime!"
And the curtain fell on that sad scene in the boy's life. When it was
lifted again, and he came forth from prison a year afterwards, his
mother was dead. From the day her pale face faded from his vision as
he passed from the court-room, he never looked upon her again.
Ten years afterward a man was reading a newspaper in a far western
town. He had a calm, serious face, and looked like one who had known
suffering and trial.
"Brought to justice at last!" he said to himself, as the blood came to
his face; "convicted on the charge of open insolvency, and sent to
State prison. So much for the man who gave me in tender years the
first lessons in ill-doing. But, thank God! the other lessons have
been remembered. 'When you come forth again,' said the judge, 'may it
be with the resolution to die rather than commit a crime!' and I have
kept this injunction in my heart when there seemed no way of escape
except through crime; and God helping me, I will keep it to the end."