A WORTHY SHERIFF AND JUDGE--DR. DALTON.
Aunt Debie continued: "They were out shooting on the marsh, and
the jedge and the sheriff had whiskey with them, of which I guess
they drank as much as he did, but it 'pears they was able to stand
it better, for they did not get drunk. I think it is a disgrace to
this county to have a drunken jedge and sheriff. The idea of the
judge setting on the bench and trying men for breaking the law!
And yet he will intice other men to drink that which will fit them
to commit the crime which, if they come before him, he will punish
them for doing. And the sheriff will take them to jail when they
are condemned by the jedge, though he helped to prepare them for
the evil work they did."
"I agree with you, Aunt Debie," said Mrs. Gurney, speaking for the
first time. "These two men being allowed to hold such high
positions is not only a disgrace to this county but also to
Canada. Men who hold offices of trust and grave responsibility
should be patterns to the community, and above reproach.
Especially should this be the case with a judge. He should be a
man not only of the highest legal talent, and with a broad,
judicial mind, but also of a pure and lofty character. How ever
they came to appoint a man with the loose habits of Judge
McGullett to the position is a mystery to me."
"Why, my dear," said Mr. Gurney, "it was given him because he
worked for his party. He has ever been a man of low instincts and
loose habits, though he was considered what is called a smart
lawyer. In my opinion this did not qualify him for his position as
judge. A man may be cunning, and so is a fox. He may have the
qualities which enable him to browbeat a witness, and so has a
bully. He may have great volubility, and so has a Billingsgate
fishwife. He may even have considerable legal acumen, and yet be
narrow and coarse. A man to be a judge, as you just remarked,
should be of a broad, judicial mind, able to look at a case in all
its bearings, to sift evidence, balance probabilities, and, being
above prejudice and every outward influence, should decide a case
on its merits. And I believe with you and Aunt Debie, that he
should be as far above anything that is coarse or impure in his
private life as above suspicion in his public capacity. But I look
upon our present judge as the farthest remove from this; he was a
good party hack, and, to the shame of the government in power
when he was appointed be it said, he was rewarded for his
unscrupulousness by being elevated to the bench of our county.
"In regard to Sheriff Bottlesby, he is a man who is almost beneath
contempt; he has neither the brains, dignity, nor character to fit
him for such a position. He cunningly worked to pack a caucus to
secure the choice of our present member as a candidate to the
local legislature, with the understanding, no doubt, if his
efforts were crowned with success, that he should receive his
reward. By low cunning, and resorting to means that no honorable
man could employ, he succeeded. The last occupant of the position
was found to be too old, and therefore asked to retire; and
Bottlesby was rewarded for his faithfulness by getting the vacant
position, though his predecessor was infinitely his superior in
every respect.
"The fact is, everything that is pure and good in the government
of our country is being dragged through the mire of party
politics. If a measure is brought forward, I am afraid the
question is not, Will this be for the best interest of society or
the country? but, Will it help or hurt the party? If a public
position of great responsibility becomes vacant, they do not
appoint the man who is best qualified to fill it, but the one who
has done the most for his party. And in some instances when they
have not places for those who have been their subservient tools,
they make them by removing, on some trivial pretext, those who are
the occupants of the position, utterly regardless of the fact that
it may cause misery to the ones removed and their families. If
this evil is allowed to grow unchecked, our country will ere long
be cursed with a system similar to that introduced into the United
States by Burr and Jackson, and forcibly expressed by the words of
an unscrupulous politician, 'To the victor belongs the spoil.'"
Mr. Gurney became quite excited while he was making this speech,
for it was a subject upon which he had often thought, and with a
great deal of solicitude. In fact, it was about the only topic which
could have inspired him to speak with so much bitterness, and it
was also the only time any of his friends had seen him so animated
since his great bereavement. He was a man too broad in his views
to make principle subservient to party. He had a party, and believed
that it was necessary in the government of a country that such
should exist; but he would not be a mere tool and follow his leaders,
even though he could not endorse their policy. He said he would
not vote for a man whom he believed was unprincipled, even if his
party, through the caucus system, did make him their standard-bearer.
He was strongly of the opinion that men who were not pure in private
life should not be entrusted to conduct public affairs; and if the
party to which he gave allegiance chose such a man as their candidate,
he would not so violate his conscience as to give him his support,
for he would not trample his honor and principle in the dust for any
party.
As Mr. Gurney has given to my readers some idea of Judge McGullett
and Sheriff Bottlesby, I will give a sketch of Charles Dalton, the
one whose name had been associated with those two worthies.
He was the only son of Aunt Debie's youngest sister. This sister
had not married a Quaker, and in this respect differed from the
rest of the family. Her husband was, however, a farmer in very
comfortable circumstances, and was chosen, because of his superior
intelligence, as reeve of the township in which he resided; but he
had become a poor, besotted victim of strong drink, and driving
home from Bayton one night, while in a helpless state of
intoxication, he was thrown from his buggy, being so injured by
the fall as never to recover consciousness, and died the following
day. He left his wife and only child--a son, three years old--ample means.
Mrs. Dalton, much to the surprise of the Mrs. Grundys of the
neighborhood, never married again, but seemed to devote her life
to her son, whom she loved with a passionate tenderness. He, from
a very early age, manifested that he was a child of quick parts:
he seemed to master in a short time, with consummate ease, lessons
that would tax the brains of others for hours; and he had a
prodigious memory. He was also a general favorite, because of his
chivalrous character and amiable disposition. In fact, this last
element of character was his weakness, for he was so amiable as to
sometimes be persuaded to enter into engagements against the
dictates of his better judgment.
When he reached the age necessary for him to decide as to his
future course of action, he chose medicine for his profession. He
first took an Arts course in Toronto University, and then entered
one of the Medical Schools of that city, in both institutions
taking front rank as a student.
He had, previous to his entering the Medical School, neither
smoked nor drank, and even when there, though he was almost alone
in this respect, his companions found it impossible to tempt him.
His mother had suffered so much from drink that she had taught him
to shrink from even a glass that contained it as he would from a
rattlesnake. But visiting one day at an old friend of his
mother's, who was at that time residing in Toronto, a glass of
wine was placed before him; and as all the rest drank, he, through
fear of being laughed at for being singular, drank too. He would,
no doubt, have passed through the ordeal unscathed, had not the
eldest daughter of his host, a handsome young girl of eighteen,
said to him, when she saw he hesitated, "Take a glass, Charley; it
will do you good, and cannot possibly do you any harm."
Now, he had conceived a warm attachment for her, and had every
reason to believe that his attentions were not distasteful to her;
so, when she made the remark, he no longer hesitated, but took the
fatal first glass. As he and a companion were on their way home
from Mr. Fulton's to their boarding-house, the companion said:
"Come, Charley, let us go into Frank's and take a glass of ale;"
and, since he had taken the wine, it strangely presented itself to
his consciousness as a reason why he should not refuse to take the
beer. Thus Satan leads us on by first tempting us to transgress,
then making our first sin an argument to sweep away all objections
in regard to committing others. Dalton took the ale; and the enemy
having broken down the barriers of his temperance principles, it
was not long ere he had full possession of the citadel. In fact,
in a short time after he had taken his first glass, he and several
of his fellow-students had, what they termed, "a regular spree."
His mother, fortunately for her, did not live to hear of her son's
sad fall; for, as she was sitting in her easy chair one day, she
was suddenly seized with a pain near her heart, asked to be
assisted to bed, and before the doctor could arrive she was dead.
"Died of heart disease," said the doctor; and then he added:
"There is no doubt it resulted from her husband's death. She has
never recovered from the shock; and though she has lived for
years, she might have dropped off at any moment if she had been
the least excited."
But she received her call home while sitting in her chair reading
the 14th chapter of St. John's Gospel; asked to be carried to her
bed, and, after being propped up by pillows, she said to her
attendant, "Elizabeth, I think I am dying; tell Charley my last
thoughts were of him." And then, looking heavenward, she murmured,
"God bless and guard my own dear boy," and in another moment she
was dead. But "the silver cord was loosed" as if by seraph
fingers, and "the golden bowl was broken" so gently that she
scarcely felt the stroke of the Death Angel. They laid her to rest
while yet in her prime by the side of the husband of her youth.
The son was sadly stricken by his mother's death, for he had a
very strong affection for her; and for a long time after his
return to the Medical College--in fact, until he had taken his
diploma--he remained perfectly sober; but in the banquet that he
and the rest of his class held to celebrate that event he again
fell, and ere he left was so intoxicated he had to be helped to
his lodgings. From that period he seemed to lose all power of
resistance and almost all sense of shame.
He had been engaged to Mary Fulton, the young woman who, in her
innocence, first tempted him to drink, and who now bitterly
repented of her thoughtlessness; for she was a true woman, and
loved him with all the strength of her deep, sensitive nature. He,
after taking his medical degree, had started to practice in
Orchardton, a small and lovely village not far from Bayton, and
would have done exceedingly well had it not been for his drinking
propensities.
It was about a year after he had begun to practice that he met
with the adventure of which Aunt Debie and her friends were
speaking.
"God was merciful when He removed poor Rebecca before she had a
chance to hear of her boy's shameful conduct," said Aunt Debie.
"'Pears to me that the words of Scripter is come troo in his
case--'The sins of the parent has to be borne by the children to
the third and fourth generation.'"
Aunt Debie endeavored to quote from memory, and so she is to be
excused if she did not render it according to the letter.
"I believe with thee, Aunt Debie," said Mrs. Gurney. "It was a
blessed thing for Rebecca she died thinking her boy was pure; if
she had known how it was--and if she had lived a little longer she
would have been sure to have found out--it would have broken her
heart. Then she would have gone down to her grave in sorrow, and
Charles would have had his mother's death to answer for."
"I believe," said Mr. Gurney, breaking in rather abruptly, "that a
tendency to drink is transmitted from father to son--that, in
fact, it is a disease, and in this respect is similar to
consumption or insanity. Because I take this view of the case, I
have a great deal of sympathy with Charley Dalton. I am determined
to do all I can to save the boy. I heard from a lady friend the
other day who is very intimate with Mary Fulton, and she said that
the latter was experiencing deep grief because of Charley's utter
fall; for she holds herself partially responsible, because she, in
her innocence and thoughtlessness, tempted him to take his first
glass of wine. Her friends have been endeavoring to influence her
to break the engagement, but she resolutely refuses to do so. She
says she will never marry him while he continues to drink as he
does, but breaking off the engagement will be the last report, and
she declares she will never marry another."
"Well," said Phoebe, "I don't wonder she feels bad; 'pears to me I
should feel bad, too, if I had coaxed the man I thought more of
than any one else to drink, and then he went to the bad after it."
"Thee must not be too severe in thy thoughts of poor Mary," said
Mrs. Gurney, "but when thee feels like censuring her, just remember
that she has been accustomed to see wine on her father's table
ever since she was a girl. It is the custom which should be
condemned, and not poor, foolish innocents like Mary Fulton."