WHISPERING GALLERY.--POTENTATES.--THREE YOUNG MEN.
The last day at The Grange had come, and well was it filled up with
active exercise and sport, song, laughter, and sweet converse. In the
evening all met as usual in the library, eager for whatever amusement
might turn up; for everything was _impromptu_ among our young people,
and, whether story, games, or conversation, had at least the merit of
spontaneity.
"I have a thought," said Alice. "There is a game I would call 'Gossip,
or Whispering Gallery,' which can take in the whole of us, and possibly
take us all in, in a double sense. Let Aunt Lucy sit in one corner of
the room, and Uncle John in another; and we young folks can range
ourselves between. Aunty can say anything she pleases in a low whisper
to her next neighbor, only she must be careful to name some one; and he
must repeat it to a third, and so through the line. The last person must
announce distinctly what the whisper was, and settle any differences
with Aunt Lucy, who originates the whisper."
"Very good," replied Mrs. Wyndham. "Only it is evident to me that I am
going to be victimized!"
"O, you can stand it; you can stand it!" cried out several young voices.
"Your character for truth and prudence is established; and with Uncle
John at the other end of the line, you need not fear!"
And so the company was arranged, and care taken that no ear heard the
"gossip," save the one for which it was designed. The mysterious message
was at last announced, amid laughter and shouts from the youngest.
"Aunt Lucy says that Cornelia told her that Charlie reported that John
had eaten ten slices of mince-pie to-day. He is very sick, and I'll send
him home to his mother."
"But I only said, 'Cornelia and Charlie both told me John hadn't eaten
one slice of mince-pie to-day. I'm afraid he is sick, and it is well he
is going home to his mother!'
"Rather a difference! But who altered it? It seems to me Cornelia looks
mischievous!"
"O, that's a way I have! Poor little me, all the mischief is put on my
shoulders! But--honest now--Tom whispered so low, that I thought it
might as well be ten slices as one!"
"And now change places," said Alice, "and put Cornelia head as a reward
of merit--we'll fix her; and then we can try 'Whispering Gallery'
again."
No sooner said than done, and Cornelia started the game by saying to her
nearest neighbor, "How sorry I am to leave The Grange! I never was so
happy in all my life; and Charlie says so too!"
But the outcome of this very innocent remark was as follows: "How sorry
I am I came to The Grange! I never will be happy again in all my life,
and Charlie says so, too!"
"Are you sure there was no cheating?" asked Mr. Wyndham.
"No, dear uncle, impossible," replied Cornelia. "I couldn't, and they
wouldn't; they are all quite too good for that; every one of them,
except, perhaps, Charlie, who is in a peculiar sense my own first
cousin. But it seems to be a property of a whisper to be a _twister_; it
is sure to get in a tangle, and comes out quite different from the way
you started it."
"Just so," answered up Charlie. "It is like what they say happens in
Cincinnati. You put in a grunter at one end of the machine, and in a few
minutes it comes out in the form of bacon, hams, lard, sausages, and
hair-brushes!"
"My dear Charlie," chimed in his uncle, "that is the loudest 'whisper'
I've heard yet! But, seriously, boys and girls, don't you see in the
game how evil reports originate, and how easy it is, by the slightest
variation from the straight line, to falsify the truth?"
"That's so," said Mary. "And I have often noticed how whispers glide
into gossip, and gossip into scandal, before people are aware. I've
resolved many a time not to talk about _people_, but things, and then
I'll escape doing harm with my unruly member."
"I, too," said Charlie, demurely, "have frequently written in my
copy-book, 'Speak not of the absent, or speak as a friend.'"
"Now for another game," cried Gertrude. "Here is one of mine. I call it
'Potentates.' It's very simple, and you can vary it according to your
taste. You visit a foreign country, and see the rulers and grandees; you
can mention their names or not, as you wish. I'll begin, to show one way
of playing it.
"I went to England and was presented at court. I had a superb dress made
for the occasion, which I will not describe, as I see the boys are all
ready to laugh. But my father had to wear a special drawing-room suit
for the presentation, also, and he looked as funny and quaint as if he
had stepped out of an old picture. His sword hung at his side, and he
had to practice walking with it, and bowing over it, or it would have
played him a trick. It was worse than my long train.
"When my turn came to be presented and the Lord Chamberlain announced my
name, I felt like sinking into the ground; but I didn't. I think the
dignity of my grand dress supported me. Somehow I reached the throne,
where sat in state Victoria, Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, Empress
of India, Defender of the Faith, etc. On either side were princesses of
the blood, ladies of honor, and others according to rank. I had seen my
predecessors kneel before Her Majesty, so I had to put my democratic
feelings into my pocket and do the same. I made believe to myself that I
knelt because she is a pattern woman, is the best queen England ever
had, and is old enough to be my grandmother, having reigned fifty years.
She graciously extended her hand. I did not shake it, as report says one
fair American savage did, but humbly kissed it, and then retreated
backward with eyes still fixed upon the Queen in all her glory, and
scarcely knowing which gave me the most trouble, my long train or my
wounded self-respect.
"I afterwards saw the Prince and Princess of Wales, the Archbishop of
Canterbury, dukes and duchesses, lords and ladies--a brilliant
constellation. But I very much doubt if they saw me. And these are the
potentates of Old England."
"As for me," said Charlie Bolton, "I saw the Dey of Algiers, and a very
brilliant dey he was! By way of contrast, I determined to visit the
Knights of Malta, but on inquiry found that they had not been in
existence for nearly ninety years, and therefore gave it up. Instead I
concluded to see the Knights of Labor, who abound in this favored land,
and appear to be potentates, as they can stop railroad travel, mines,
manufactories, etc., at their own sweet will."
"As Charlie was in North Africa," remarked John, "I went to Egypt to be
in his neighborhood, and had the privilege of seeing the Khedive. I
found the country quite demoralized, the finances in a very bad
condition, and few appeared to know who was the real potentate of the
land, the Khedive, the Sultan of Turkey, or the money kings of England.
General Gordon had been murdered, and El Mahdi, the false prophet, was
dead also. Those two men were the greatest potentates Africa has had for
centuries!"
"And I crossed over into Turkey," continued Tom Green, "and had an
audience with the Sultan. I saw numerous pashas in attendance of one,
two, and three tails."
"O, Tom!" cried Gertrude, "that can't be! Even Darwin doesn't claim that
for man in the nineteenth century!"
"My dear young friend," answered Tom, "these tails were not carried
monkey-fashion, but were insignia of office, the man having three tails
holding the highest rank. They are of horse-hair, placed on a long staff
with a gilt ball on top, and are always carried before the Pasha on his
military expeditions. Always ask for information," said he, bowing to
the circle, "and I shall be happy to impart such as is suitable to
juvenile minds!"
"Very condescending!" "Deeply interesting!" "Just from college, isn't
he?" were some of the remarks of the girls.
"The Grand Vizier presented me," continued Tom. "We had a good deal of
pleasant conversation together, the Sultan and I; and I tried to
convince him that the republican form of government was the best.
Strange to say, my eloquence failed in effect. But he was very friendly,
and asked me to stay to tea, and he'd introduce me to his little
family--"
"Tom! Tom!" cried several voices, "Do keep probability in view."
"I declined, of course, even at the risk of hurting his feelings. _I_
don't want to see women with thick veils on; some may think it
romantic--I know Alice does, for it is so mysterious--but _I_ think it
looks as if they were marked with small-pox! Just then, the muezzin
sounded for prayers from the nearest minaret, and the Sultan instantly
fell prostrate on his rich Turkish rug, and began his devotions. He was
just saying, 'Do come, Tom, for'--but he stopped in the midst, and I'll
never know what strong inducement he was going to offer; perhaps he
wanted me to be Grand Vizier. I slipped out while he was at his
prayers."
"O Tom, Tom!" cried John. "I didn't think you could draw so long a bow!"
"It is quite understood that we are indulging in fiction," replied he.
"You know that falsehood consists in the _intent to deceive_. No one
will be taken in by my yarns, dear Coz!"
"Nor mine, either," said Cornelia. "For I was in Paris before the French
Revolution, at the same time as our philosopher, Benjamin Franklin. I
was present at court on a grand occasion. The king, Louis Sixteenth, a
handsome and amiable monarch, and the beautiful and graceful queen,
Marie Antoinette, were there of course; the young Dauphin was, I hope,
sound asleep. The ladies of the court were brilliant, and everything as
gay as gay could be. But to my surprise, our plain, simple republican
Dr. Franklin was the central object, the 'cynosure of all beholders.'
The king was quite secondary. Philosophy was then quite the rage, and
republican simplicity--in the abstract--was adored by these potentates.
One of the grand, gay ladies crowned Franklin with a wreath of flowers!
And he was wonderfully pleased with all the attention he received, I
assure you. It was a different scene from any in the Philadelphia of
those days--with our staid citizens, and sweet, gentle, modest Quaker
ladies in their plain dress!"
"And now," said Amy, "aren't you all tired of potentates? I am. This is
our last evening, and I want dear Uncle to tell us a story--something
from his own life, if he will--to finish up our pleasures."
"It would finish up your pleasures by putting you to sleep," Mr. Wyndham
answered, laughing gayly. "Mine has been an unusually happy life, but
not an adventurous one. I was never even in a railroad collision. Do you
remember the story of Dr. Samuel Johnson, when writing his 'Lives of the
Poets'?"
"Do tell us, Uncle," chimed in the young voices.
"He was trying to get information in a certain case, but could not
elicit anything of interest. At last, out of patience, he burst forth:
'Tell me, didn't he break his leg?' I never broke mine; I can't get up
an incident."
"And I'm very glad you didn't, Uncle mine," said little Amy. "And now I
speak by permission in the name of the assembled company: You are
unanimously requested to tell us your life, or something that happened
to yourself."
"'Story! Why, bless you, I have none to tell, Sir,' as Canning's needy
knife-grinder says. But if you all insist, as a good uncle, I must e'en
obey; so prepare for those comfortable slumbers I have predicted. I will
call my story
THREE YOUNG MEN.
"Now you must not expect from me," said Mr. Wyndham, "exciting tales of
adventure, and hairbreadth escapes by sea and land. I have never read a
dime novel in my life, and therefore couldn't undertake to rival them in
highway robbery, scalping Indians, and bowie-knives and revolvers. My
heroes were never left on a desert island, nor escaped with difficulty
from the hands of cannibals, nor were pursued by hungry wolves; and
never even saw a lion or tiger except behind the bars of a menagerie.
They were not strikingly handsome nor charmingly hideous, nor had they
rich uncles to die opportunely and leave them heirs to a few millions;
indeed, they were very much such young men as you see every day walking
the streets of your own city.
"I would gladly leave my name entirely out of the story if I could; but
as it is an 'o'er true tale,' and I happened to be mixed up with the
other two, whom I have known from childhood, I am very sure my dear
nephews and nieces will not accuse me of egotism. It is the other two
who are my heroes--not myself.
"John Howard and Mortimer Willing were my schoolmates, in the same class
for years, neighbors and playfellows, so that I know them well. And I
speak of them the more freely because they are now both living at a
great distance from here, one being the honored Governor of a Western
State, and the other residing in a remote town in the interior of Texas.
Such are the changes in our land of freedom.
"But to begin with our school-days. We had not a genius in the class,
neither had we a dunce; we were average boys, digging our way through
the classics and mathematics, and not too familiar with science, history
and geography. The world we live in was not much studied then. Such
minor knowledge we were somehow expected to pick up at home, and we did
after a fashion. I liked both these boys; but while Willing was the more
self-possessed, showy and brilliant, I always felt Howard to be the most
true; he was the very soul of honor, as transparent as glass without a
flaw in it. Willing did things with a dash, and by his superior tact and
ready language often appeared to know more than he really did. If he got
into a scrape he was pretty sure to get out of it smoothly.
"I have sometimes known him, for example, to go unprepared to a
recitation, depending upon his luck not to be called upon to recite,
when, with his ready wit and retentive memory, he would gather up what
it required hard study for the rest of us to put into our craniums. But
it sometimes happened that Dame Fortune, wicked jade! forsook him, and
Willing had to march up, as we thought, to certain disgrace. But
whatever forsook him, one thing never did--invincible assurance. He
would bear himself in so composed a manner, talk round the subject so
ably, and bring what little he knew so prominently forward, that the
professor himself was often deceived, and was sometimes entrapped into
telling the very thing Willing most wanted to know.
"If any side-helps were given by sympathizing friends--for Willing was a
general favorite--he availed himself of them without scruple. I remember
the question was once put to him, 'What is the Latin name of the earth?'
Any boy surely should know that; but for once his memory failed him. He
nudged the boy next him, saying in a stage whisper, 'Tell us.' The
teacher's ears were quick, and his wit also; he answered, with a
quizzical look--before the boy could speak--'That's right, Tellus is one
of the names; but you should direct your answer to the desk, and not to
your neighbor.'
"In composition he was sometimes brilliant, but not always sustained or
original, for I have more than once detected a striking likeness to
Addison and other well-known worthies of our English tongue. Evidently
the same Muse inspired both, for in style and sentiment they were
identical; but unfortunately for Willing, they had the advantage in
point of time, and made their mark in the world before he came along.
The wonder to me was that the teacher did not see it; but his was not a
wide range of scholarship, though thorough in what he taught. His groove
was narrow but deep and well worn, I felt indignant when I heard Willing
praised for what should have brought him disgrace; but he was so
pleasant and ready to oblige, such a good companion and playfellow,
that I soon forgot my righteous anger--until next time.
"Another trick of his I could not like. Possibly my young friends may
have seen the same; for schoolboy failings are very similar throughout
the ages. I don't doubt school-children cheated before the flood! They
certainly have done so since. He sat at the same desk with honest Jack
Howard, the most unsuspicious of mortals because himself so free from
guile. Many a time have I seen him slyly glance at Howard's slate when
we were solving hard problems in arithmetic or algebra. They were sure
to come out even, neck and neck, as they say. But _I_ knew that if
Willing had been called upon to explain the process he couldn't have
done it; and he was sure to get the praise.
"As for Howard, he plodded on, never getting all the appreciation he
deserved. Always prepared, but not always ready--for he was easily
abashed, and then his tongue did not do justice to his thoughts. No
fellow in the class--or, as we then said, no _man_ in the class--was so
thorough as he, but the teachers did not always find it out. We boys
did, however; and we knew, too, that what Jack Howard once got he kept,
in the way of mental acquisition. But the best of it was, he was such a
solid fellow as to worth. His word was never doubted; we could trust him
in everything. '_Falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus_,' holds true, and the
converse is also true, Faithful in one, faithful in all. Howard was true
and faithful from the time I first knew him, a little shaver, 'knee-high
to a grasshopper,' as children say.
"I'm the more particular in giving you an insight into the character of
these boys as a key to their after-life. I know that the child is not
always 'father to the man,' and that the insertion of a new and
transforming principle into the soul will elevate and ennoble the
meanest man. But as a general rule the mainsprings of character develop
early, and the man is very much as the child has made him. The sowing
then, brings forth a harvest afterwards. They tell us, that two natives
of Scotland settled in the far West, and that each took with him a
memorial of his fatherland--one the thistle, the national emblem, the
other the honey-bee. Rather different sowing that! For while the
dwellers on the Pacific coast have to keep up a continual fight with the
thistle, the honey of that region is now largely exported, and is worth
its millions. A little time has done it--and thistles are especially
prolific, you need take no pains in the sowing.
"But we didn't think much of sowing and reaping in those days, though we
were sowing all the time. The years flew fast till we had seen seventeen
birthdays, and our fathers thought we should learn something of business
if we were ever to be business men. Willing had influential connections,
excellent abilities, and popular manners; he was a general favorite. He
was placed without difficulty in a large importing house, where he gave
entire satisfaction, and was rapidly advanced to a position of great
trust, collecting moneys and keeping the accounts. His salary was large,
and he was considered a rising and prosperous young man; he moved in
fashionable society, married a dashing girl, lived in a handsome house,
gave elegant entertainments, and kept a horse.
"Howard and I got on more slowly. Somehow, we always kept together, so
that 'the two Johns' became a by-word. We were clerks in the same
commercial house, and, although self-praise is no recommendation, I may
say that both of us did our whole duty. We worked hard, as was then
expected; were at the store soon after sunrise, and had everything in
order before our employers arrived. Young gentlemen in those days did
many things that are now the porter's work, making fires, sweeping the
store, etc., quite new duties to us, who were fresh from Academic
shades, and from communion with Homer, Virgil, and Horace. I can't say
we enjoyed it much. Neither did we like the lifting of heavy packages
and being ordered about as if we were inferiors. But we did not shirk
our duty, and kept our tempers. John, good fellow, came out of the
ordeal sweet-tempered, kind, and obliging; and I don't doubt that we
both feel the benefit of this practical training to this day. Certain it
is, that we mastered all the details of the business, and knew what to
expect from others, when our time came to employ them.
"'The two Johns' went into business together, and for a time everything
was prosperous. We married happily, and lived in comfort and moderation,
as becomes young people who have to make their way in the world.
Meantime we saw less and less of Willing, for in the daytime we were
busy, and our evenings were very differently employed. He and his young
wife--a pretty and attractive creature she was--cultivated the society
of the gay and rich, gave entertainments, or were seen in full dress at
balls, concerts, the opera, and the theatre. I sometimes wondered how a
clerk on a three-thousand-dollar salary could live at the rate of eight
or ten thousand. And so, with all kind feeling, we drifted apart; your
dear Aunt and John's wife found their style of living so different,
ideas on all subjects so opposite, and friends so dissimilar, that
visits were only exchanged once or twice a year.
"When we were about thirty, commercial disasters befel us. A financial
crisis swept over the land, by which some houses closely connected with
our own were engulfed, and could not meet their engagements. We lost
heavily. We struggled through it for a time, but were compelled at last
to call a meeting of our creditors, lay our statements and books before
them, and offer to give up all we had to satisfy their claims. That was
the best we could do, and we then could not pay more than fifty cents on
the dollar.
"Our creditors behaved most nobly and generously. They expressed the
utmost confidence in our integrity and business skill, uttered no word
of blame but much of encouragement, and begged us to go on and retrieve
our fortunes. They settled upon fifty cents in the dollar as full
satisfaction for our debts, and told us to take our own time for the
payment; nothing could have been kinder and more considerate. For my
part, knowing we were not to blame, I bore up bravely till that point;
but there I broke down. I am not ashamed to say, that I wept like a
child.
"Howard was the bookkeeper of our house, and a beautiful set of books he
kept. The accounts were exact, the writing clear, the figures
unmistakable--not a blot or erasure in the whole. They excited great
admiration, and from none more than from Stewart & Gamble, who were
prominent creditors. After the meeting, they invited Howard to look
over their books in the evening, remarking that although they had all
confidence in their head clerk, their receipts had fallen off
considerably of late, and as they wished to understand the reason, they
had concluded to get the services of an expert, which Howard certainly
was. John accepted the offer, although he looked grave when he
remembered that Willing had been head clerk for years.
"As our business perplexity was now comparatively settled, we went on as
usual, only taking in sail and trimming the boat for the storm. But in
our private affairs both families resolved to retrench. Our wives came
nobly to our support, proving themselves true women; they themselves
proposed to _double-up_--the two families to occupy one house, and in
several ways to reduce our expenses one-half. Such an arrangement would
never have answered if we had not all thoroughly understood one
another--but we did. My wife is, as you all very well know, a model of
amiability and of every household virtue, and the other John thinks as
well of his Rib, and I suppose is right. The old saying is, 'If a man
wishes to be rich let him ask his wife;' I can add, if a man wishes to
be honest and pay his debts, let him ask her counsel, aid and
coöperation also. We were determined to be honest; and our good wives
helped us in this effort with all their might.
"How they managed it you can't expect a man to explain--it is a problem
too deep for our limited intelligence--but certain it is, that while we
always sat down to a plentiful table and maintained a respectable
appearance, what had supported one family now answered for two. I don't
think our wives were reduced to the straits of the Irish family, whose
little boy reported to his schoolmates: 'There's a great twisting and
turning going on at our house. I'm having a new shirt made out of
daddy's old one, and daddy's having a new shirt made out of the old
sheet, and mammy's making a new sheet out of the old table-cloth.' But
'twistings and turnings' of a marvellous kind there must have been,
which the male understanding could not fathom; for while the house was
always in order, and the two ladies looked as neat as if they had just
stepped out of a bandbox, no bills came in, and a little money went a
great way.
"One word more about this very practical thing of expense in living. We
could have lived on as we had done, and no blame from any one, for we
were in no respect extravagant; but we could not reconcile it to our
consciences to spend a penny without necessity when we owed money. All
four thought alike about that; we were thankful for health, and that we
could provide the comforts of life for our young families. As you know,
our dear children were then living. And I may here add, that both John
and I lived to see the solid benefits accruing from the ten years of
strict economy and active work in which all shared. Our boys and girls
learned betimes to help themselves and one another, and were invaluable
aids to their mothers. The lessons of self-denial were not lost upon
them. They attended the public schools and received a solid education
there; but the languages were picked up at home, and thoroughly, too. It
is astonishing how much can be learned by devoting a short time every
day to any study when the heart is in it; and I found that the boys were
prepared for college, when our ten years were up, and we were able to
spend more freely.
"But meanwhile, what about Willing, and the very mixed accounts of
Stewart & Gamble? Alas, alas! how happy was our lot compared with his!
We had cheerful content, hope for the future, peace in our consciences.
We were respected by those around us, and by the business world, never
more so than then. But poor Willing!
"Howard found it as we had feared. There were inconsistencies between
the debtor and creditor columns, increasing with each successive year;
and the effort had been made to cover them up by the alteration of
figures so as to appear square and correct. Howard knew too much of
prices to be deceived by these, being in the same business. The
aggregate stealings--for it was nothing else--amounted to $20,000! And
this was the payment the firm received for their liberal kindness and
their blind confidence!
"When all was discovered, and Willing's guilt clearly proved, he was
summoned to meet his injured employers. He must have gone with quakings
of heart: but not even then did his cool assurance fail him, or the
blush rise to his cheek, until he was made conscious that all his
trickery was understood, and that public exposure and the penitentiary
were before him. Then he gave way, and confessed all. He had not, in the
beginning, planned deliberate villany--very few ever do who have been
brought up to know the right. But the temptations to extravagance had
proved too much for him, and his principles, never strong, had given
way. He had taken two hundred dollars, intending to return it from his
salary, and none should be the wiser. But fast living is a deceitful
thing--almost as deceitful as the human heart. Bills came in fast--store
bills, butchers' bills, carriage bills, confectionery bills, milliners'
bills--swallowing up his quarter's salary; and one must have ready
money, you know; so instead of returning what he had taken, as hope had
whispered, he took more--still to be repaid in the future.
"I need hardly say, that each time he yielded to temptation the
resistance of his conscience became less and less, until finally it
appeared to be paralyzed. He had woven the toils about himself until he
seemed powerless to escape; no chrysalis, apparently lifeless in its
silky shroud, was feebler than he. He was strong to do evil but weak to
do good. Everything conspired to push him down hill--circumstances were
against him, he thought--but one thing was certain, he must have money,
and then all would be right.
"But how to break the meshes? How to retrieve himself? One way only was
clear to him--speculation in stocks, and on a margin; he could borrow
money for that, for he would be sure to repay. _Borrowing_ was now the
convenient name he applied to his stealing. He tried it, and at first
succeeded; the deluded victims of all gambling, whether in the Exchange
or in gambling hells, are pretty sure of success at first; and so they
are enticed to higher ventures. Now he might have returned the
ill-gotten money, and at least have saved his reputation. But no! the
gambling passion was now aroused, and he felt sure he could soon realize
enough to make him easy. He tried again and for a larger sum and _lost_.
"And so he went on until he was tangled inextricably in the net, and
felt that he was a rascal, and a lost, not a successful one. Remorse
seized him, but not repentance; for still he went on in his guilt.
Indeed, he was more reckless than ever, struggling to get out of the
meshes. Gay to excess at times, then gloomy; his temper became unequal,
and to drown reflection he sometimes drank to excess. He was a ruined
man--ruined _before_ exposure, for that only opened the eyes of
others--his own down-fall had already taken place.
"I am told that when the proofs of his guilt were laid before him, and
his confession was made, his pleadings for mercy were most pitiful.
Stewart & Gamble had a stern sense of justice, and their indignation was
in proportion to their former confidence. They were determined that he
should not escape, and that, not so much from personal vengeance as
because they thought it wrong to interfere with laws due and wholesome
in themselves, and necessary to deter others from evil doing. He was
committed to prison, a trial took place, and poor Willing was sentenced
to five years in the penitentiary.
"When he first stood up for trial, he Was alone; all the friends of his
prosperity had forsaken him. He was thoroughly stricken down, abashed,
shame-faced, not lifting his eyes to the crowd in court; and no one of
his intimates care to claim acquaintance with a felon. I could not hold
back; much as I hated the crime, I could not hate the criminal. My
schoolmate, my playfellow, stood there, alone, forsaken, despised;
crushed to the ground, ready to despair. I went to him, gave my hand and
stayed, while his case was up. Never shall I forget the look of mingled
gratitude and hopelessness in his haggard eyes which had scarcely known
sleep since his disgrace.
"O, it is well to be just! No doubt of that. The law should be
sustained, and no sentimental pity should interfere. We must not condone
crime, or the very object of law and penalty will be annulled.
Philanthropy should be tender, but not weak; and if tears are shed and
bouquets of flowers sent, it should rather be to the victims of crime,
than to the criminal. But when a man is crushed with a sense of guilt,
and down on the ground, that is not the time to spurn him; when disgrace
is added to trouble, friends must not stand aloof. Many a poor fellow is
driven to suicide by this course who might have been saved by kindness
and brought to repentance.
"Willing's dashing friends, by whose example he had been helped in the
downward career, who had eaten his dainty little suppers and enjoyed his
society, now forsook him and held up their hands in horror at his
conduct--it was so disreputable! I may be wrong, but I can't help
despising men and women who share a poor fellow's prosperity and fall
off in his adversity; giving an additional kick, if need be, to send him
down the hill. Of all his gay companions not one stood by him on his
trial, or said one word of pity, hope, or cheer, when he was condemned.
The friendship of the world is a hollow thing, more unsubstantial than a
bubble. It seems to me that nothing is so hardening to the heart as
self-indulgence, luxurious living, idleness, the absence of any high aim
in life, or any earnest effort for the life beyond. Certain it is the
summer friends all vanished; their friendship wilted like flowers before
a frost.
"That was the time for Howard and me to act like men. We were busy, very
busy, but we took turns to stand by him, and show that we had not
forgotten 'auld lang syne' and boyish days. Poor fellow! he wept then.
Well did he know that we would be the last to extenuate his crime, but
he saw that we pitied him while we condemned his sin. He spoke the first
words of genuine repentance, or what looked like it, then and there.
"After his condemnation, when immured in prison walls, dressed in
convict garb, and fed on prison fare, we visited him whenever the rules
allowed it. We found him quite broken up--thoroughly humiliated, ready
to despair of God's mercy as well as man's forgiveness. He was in the
depths of trial, all the waves and the billows had gone over him, the
deeps had swallowed him up, as the Psalmist poetically and truly says.
We could not in conscience say one word that might lessen the weight of
his guilt, but we could point him to the Lamb of God that taketh away
the sin not of one only, but of the whole world. We could tell him that
Christ came, not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance, to
which he promptly added, and from the heart, 'Of whom I am chief.'
"Calamity, sorrow, reverses and all the punishments due to iniquity, can
never be relied upon to bring men to repentance; but in this case they
worked well, and Willing became a new man. It was a great pleasure to us
to see the change in his very countenance, wrought out by the inward
principle, and that his sorrow, as time went on, was not so much for his
punishment and disgrace as for his guilt. He made no effort to get a
commutation of his sentence, saying, It was all right; he had deserved
that and much more.
"Of course our pity was much excited for his poor little wife, who
seemed almost heart-broken. My dear Lucy and John's wife, who had never
cultivated intimacy with her in their prosperous days, now came forward
in true womanly style, and made her feel that she had sisters in heart,
whom she had not known. She had no near kindred, and the few relatives
she had held aloof. Truly she might say, 'My lovers and my friends stand
aloof from my sore; and my kinsmen stand afar off.' No one offered her
help or shelter, of all those who had enjoyed her elegant hospitality.
"Immediately upon the conviction of her husband she wrote to Stewart &
Gamble, offering to give up all her handsome furniture and pictures, and
even her jewels, as a small indemnity for their losses; but they very
nobly refused to accept it, advising her to sell and invest the
proceeds. John and I, acting under the direction of our wives, who were
enthusiastic in their admiration and pity for Olive Willing in her
trouble, told her to pack her trunks at once and come to our house,
where we had room enough and to spare, and that we would attend to the
sale. She could scarcely believe she heard aright, and was full of
surprise and gratitude, and, of course, accepted the offer.
"I don't wonder you think our house was made of gum-elastic; it really
seemed so. 'Room in the heart, room in the house," was our motto; and
the children most amiably agreed to give up one room and be sociable
together; and I fancy they were, from the peals of laughter that often
came from that room, so full of young life and spirits. And so poor
Olive was settled down as one of the family. It was a new experience to
her in every way. The industry of the house surprised her, and from
gratitude and a proper ambition she soon sought to help, which really
was the best thing she could do to relieve her trouble, and regain a
measure of cheerfulness. But she had to learn first, and found two
willing teachers in the noble women who had given her a home. She was an
apt scholar and soon became mistress of domestic arts, which were
indispensable to her in after life. Indeed, what woman should be
ignorant of them, if she wishes to be helpful to herself and useful to
others? Who would wish to be considered a mere ornamental piece of bric
à brac, good to be set upon the mantel or against the wall, but not good
for everyday use and comfort? Better be an eight-day clock, for that at
least will regulate the goings of the household!
"In these new employments and in our happy home circle Olive in a few
months recovered something of her wonted tone. She then formed the plan
of putting her hitherto useless accomplishments to work, by taking
pupils in music, drawing, and embroidery. We all approved her plan, and
Lucy found pupils for her among our friends--not among those who had
cast her off. This supplied her with ready money, and with a little
increase to the sum John and I had safely invested for her.
"When his five years were accomplished, and Willing was notified that he
was once more a free man, we were there to receive him, and conduct him
to our house. He entered it, a wiser and a sadder man. We had formed a
plan for him into which he and his wife heartily entered, and had
already written to correspondents in Texas, to obtain information as to
localities for settlement. After a week's rest Willing and Olive left us
for their distant home, where they were soon at home on a small ranche
stocked with sheep--the whole paid for by the modest sum held in Olive's
name. They did well and are much respected. He has been able to enlarge
his operations, and is now a thriving man; and what is far better, he is
upright, honest; always on the right side; fearing God, and having favor
with those who know him.
"But to return to ourselves. We persevered in a strict course of
industry and economy, declining help proffered from outside sources. My
dear grandfather, who had brought me up after my father's death, was
very kind in offering financial aid; but I did not wish to involve any
one in my misfortunes, or to cause embarrassment to one I so greatly
loved. Besides, I felt confident that we should retrieve our affairs by
our own efforts. So it proved. Eight years to a day from the time we
attempted to make our assignment to our generous creditors we paid them,
not fifty cents on the dollar, but one hundred, with compound interest.
It was a glad surprise to them, but a much greater joy to us. O, boys!
better it is to step forth clear of debt; to be able to look every man
in the eye; to feel that you owe no man anything, than to own the mines
of California, Arizona, or the whole of a Pacific Railroad! I cannot
describe to you the exquisite pleasure it gave us to pay out that money.
Those who have never experienced losses and embarrassments can scarcely
understand it.
"We now had a fresh start in business, with a good stock on hand,
boundless credit, and no debts. We soon came to the front rank among
merchants. Indeed, so successful were we, that on my fiftieth birthday I
resolved to retire, feeling that I was rich enough. My dear grandfather,
who had entered into rest some years before, had left me The Grange, in
which my earliest years had been passed, and here, amid the beautiful
scenes of nature, and with still a large scope for my activities, I have
enjoyed years of happiness. My dear friend, Howard, had landed property
in one of the Western States and fancied there was more elbow-room there
for his children who were settling in life; so at last we were obliged
to separate. He has risen, as you know, to prominence, being the most
popular governor of the State they have had for years, and even
political opponents are loud in praise of his integrity and fidelity to
trusts.
"I need scarcely say a word to show the meaning of my simple tale. A
life of unspotted integrity and honor is the only life worth living; and
to love God and keep his commandments is the only safeguard. You may
have a good disposition, but that is not enough. You may have been well
trained and instructed, but that is not enough. Your father may be the
very soul of honor and to be trusted with uncounted gold, but virtue is
not an inheritance, and you must be honest for yourself, self-denying
for yourself, diligent for yourself, if you wish to build up a character
respected by men and pleasing to God. 'Tis true, this is only one part
of your duty, but it is a very important part. Truth and rectitude are
pillars in family life, and the very bulwarks of society. If these fail,
all else fails.
"And now, a pleasant and a dreamless sleep to you all. To-morrow you
return to the studies and duties of the new year, which has begun so
happily for us all. I dislike to say that word, Farewell, and so I will
only wish you now, Good-night!"