'One of the most terrible instances of dishonesty I ever knew,' said a
lady friend to me, 'happened in my own family, or, I should say, in one
of its relative branches. You were staying last summer at Westcliff;
did you hear Dr. Leatrim preach?'
'Yes; my friends resided about a mile from the parsonage, and were
constant in their attendance at his church. The Doctor was one of the
principal attractions of the place--one of the most eloquent men I ever
heard in the pulpit.'
'Did you ever meet him in company?'
'Never. I was told that he seldom went into society, and lived quite a
solitary life; that some great domestic calamity had weaned him
entirely from the world; that his visits were confined to the poor of
his parish, or to those who stood in need of his spiritual advice; that
since the death of his wife and only son, he had never been seen with a
smile upon his face. To tell you the truth, I was surprised to hear
sermons so full of heavenly benevolence and love breathed from the lips
of such an austere and melancholy-looking man.'
'Ah, my poor uncle!' sighed my friend; 'he has had sorrows and trials
enough to sour his temper and break his heart. He was not always the
gentle, earnest Christian you now see him, but a severe, uncompromising
theologian of the old school, and looked upon all other sects who
opposed his particular dogmas as enemies to the true faith. A strict
disciplinarian, he suffered nothing to interfere with his religious
duties, and exercised a despotic sway in the church and in his family.
He married, early in life, my father's only sister, and made her an
excellent husband; and if a certain degree of fear mingled with her
love, it originated in the deep reverence she felt for his character.
'He was forty years of age when the Earl of B----, who was a near
relation, conferred upon him the living of Westcliff. The last incumbent
had been a kind, easy-going old man, who loved his rubber of whist and a
social chat with his neighbours over a glass of punch, and left them to
take care of their souls in the best manner they could, considering that
he well earned his 700 pounds per annum by preaching a dull, plethoric
sermon once a week, christening all the infants, marrying the adults,
and burying the dead. It was no wonder that Dr. Leatrim found the
parish, as far as religion was concerned, in a very heathenish state.
'His zealous endeavours to arouse them from this careless indifference
gave great offence. The people did not believe that they were sinners,
and were very indignant with the Doctor for insisting upon the fact.
But he spared neither age nor sex in his battle for truth, and fought
it with most uncompromising earnestness. Rich or poor, it was all the
same to him; he spoke as decidedly to the man of rank as to the
humblest peasant in his employ.
'His eloquence was a vital power; the energy with which he enforced it
compelled people to listen to him; and as he lived up to his
professions, and was ever foremost in every good word and work, they
were forced to respect his character, though he did assail all their
public and private vices from the pulpit, and enforced their strict
attendance at church on the Sabbath day. This state of antagonism
between the Doctor and his parishioners did not last long. Prejudice
yielded to his eloquent preaching, numbers came from a distance to hear
him, and many careless souls awoke from a state of worldly apathy to
seek the bread of life.
'Just to give you a correct idea of what manner of man George Leatrim
was in these days, contrasted with what he is now, I will relate an
anecdote of him that I had from an eye-witness of the scene.
'A wealthy miller in the parish, a great drunkard and atheist, and a
very hard, unfeeling, immoral character, dropped down dead in a state
of intoxication, and, being a nominal member of the Church, was brought
there for burial. When the Doctor came to that portion of the service,
"We therefore commit his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to
ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to
eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ," he paused, and looking
round on the numerous band of relations and friends that surrounded the
grave, said in the most solemn and emphatic manner, "My friends, the
Prayer-book says this; but if there is any truth in God's word, it
cannot be applied to this man. He denied the existence of a God,
ridiculed the idea of a Saviour, was an irreligious and bad member of
the community, and died in the commission of an habitual and deadly
sin; and it is my firm conviction that such as he cannot enter into the
kingdom of God!" [Footnote: A fact.]
'The Doctor was greatly censured by the neighbouring clergy for boldly
declaring what he felt to be the truth; but it produced an electrical
effect upon those present, and the son of the deceased, who was fast
following in his father's steps, became a sincere and practical
Christian.
'Mrs. Leatrim was quite a contrast to her husband--a gentle,
affectionate, simple-hearted woman. She never thwarted his wishes in
word or deed, and was ever at his side to assist him in his
ministrations among the poor, in teaching the children, and reading to
the sick and inquiring. She had been the mother of several children,
but only one, and that the youngest-born, survived the three first
years of infancy. It is this son, named after his father, George
Leatrim, who forms the subject of my present story, which, though a
painful one in its general details, is _strictly true_.
'If the good Doctor had an idol in the world, it was his son George.
The lad possessed the most amiable disposition, uniting to the talent
and earnestness of the father, the gentle, endearing qualities of his
mother. He was handsome, frank, and graceful; the expression of his
face so truthful and unaffected, that it created an interest in his
favour at first sight. Religious without cant, and clever without
pretence, it is no wonder that his father, who was his sole instructor,
reposed in the fine lad the utmost confidence, treating him more like
an equal than a son, over whom he held the authority of both pastor and
parent.
'There was none of the nervous timidity that marked Mrs. Leatrim's
intercourse with her husband in the conduct of her son. His love for
his stern father was without fear, it almost amounted to worship; and
the hope of deserving his esteem was the motive power that influenced
his studies, and gave a colouring to every act of his life.
'The father, on his part, regarded his son as superior being--one whom
the Lord had called from his birth to be His servant.
'There was another person in the house, whom, next to his wife and son,
Doctor Leatrim held in the greatest esteem and veneration, not only on
account of his having saved him, when a boy, from drowning, at the
imminent peril of his own life, but from his having persuaded him, when
a youth, to abandon a career of reckless folly and become a Christian.
Ralph Wilson was an old and faithful servant, who had been born in his
father's house, and had nursed the Doctor when a little child upon his
knees. When his master died, Ralph was confided to the care of his son;
and as he had never married, he had grown grey in the Doctor's service,
and his love for him and his family was the sole aim and object of his
life.
'Everything about the parsonage was entrusted to Ralph's care, and he
was consulted on all business matters of importance. All the money
transactions of the family went through his hands; and, like most old
servants, his sway over the household was despotic. The Doctor gave him
his own way in everything, for it saved him a great deal of trouble.
His mind was too much engrossed with his ministerial duties to attend
to these minor concerns. Ralph was a better business man, he said; he
could manage such matters more skilfully and economically than he
could.
'If Mrs. Leatrim came to consult him about any domestic arrangements,
it was always put a stop to. "Don't trouble me, Mary; go to Ralph, he
can advise you what to do." Poor Mrs. Leatrim did not like Ralph as
well as her husband did, and would much rather have had the sanction of
the legitimate master of the house.
'By his fellow-servants the old grey-headed factotum was almost
detested. They could receive orders from the rector, and yield to him
cheerful and hearty obedience; but to be under the control of a stingy,
canting old hypocrite like Ralph Wilson was hard to be borne. The
Bible, that was so often in his mouth, might have taught him 'that no
man can serve two masters.' This fact was fully illustrated in their
case, for they loved the one and hated the other. There was always
trouble in the household--a perpetual changing of domestics, greatly to
the annoyance of Mrs. Leatrim; but the matter was one of small
importance to the rector, provided he was left in peace to pursue his
studies.
'Amiable and gentle as George was, he could not force himself to feel
any affection for Ralph Wilson. He treated him with respect for his
father's sake, more than from any personal regard, though the old man
was servile in his protestations of love and devotion. Some minds are
surrounded by a moral and intellectual atmosphere, into which other
minds cannot enter without feeling a certain degree of repulsion. Such
an insensible but powerfully acknowledged antagonism existed between
the faithful old servant and his young master. They did not hate one
another--that would have been too strong a term--but Doctor Leatrim
often remarked with pain that there was no love lost between them, and
often blamed George for the indifference he manifested towards his
humble friend.
'You remember the beautiful old church at Westcliff, surrounded by its
venerable screen of oaks and elms, and the pretty white parsonage on
the other side of the road, facing the principal entrance to the
church? The house occupies an elevation some feet above the churchyard.
The front windows command a fine view of the sacred edifice,
particularly of the carved porch within the iron gates at the entrance,
and the massive oak door through which you enter into the body of the
building. A person standing at one of these windows at sunset, and
looking towards the porch, can see everything there as distinctly as if
he were in it. Recollect this circumstance, for it is connected with my
story.
'In the porch Dr. Leatrim had placed a box against the wall, on the
right-hand side as you went in, for receiving contributions for the
poor. It was only unlocked twice a year, at Christmas and Easter, and
its contents distributed to the most needy among his parishioners.
There were many wealthy people in the neighbourhood, and the poor-box
generally yielded a plentiful harvest for the destitute.
'The key of the box was always kept in the rector's study, and occupied
the same hook with the key of the church. The windows of this room were
directly opposite to the church. No person had access to this apartment
but Dr. Leatrim, his wife and son, and old Ralph. The latter kept it in
order, for fear the women folk should disarrange his master's papers.
He performed all the dusting and cleaning, and never was there a room
kept more scrupulously neat. He had a private desk for his own use
under one of the windows, in which he kept all the accounts that passed
through his hands; and it was not an unusual sight to see the Doctor
composing his startling, soul-awakening sermons at the large table in
the centre of the room, and the little shrewd-looking, grey-haired
house-steward dotting down figures quietly at the desk below the
window. His presence never disturbed his master, who often read to him
portions of the discourse he was writing, for his approval. Ralph's
applause gave him confidence; he considered his judgment in spiritual
matters more correct than his own.
'On opening the poor-box at Christmas, the rector was surprised to find
that an unusually small sum had been deposited. He could not account
for the falling off, but made up the deficiency from his own purse, and
thought no more about it.
'At Easter, the Earl and Countess of B---- always gave liberally, and
their example was followed by all the wealthy landholders in the
parish. There was always a good sprinkling of silver and gold to set
against the weekly donations of coppers and small coin, to make glad
the widows and orphans of Westcliff, to comfort the lame, the halt, and
the blind.
'The Sunday after Easter was the day Dr. Leatrim had always appointed
for the distribution of these alms to the poor. The box was opened the
morning previous, and the different sums allotted according to the
necessities of the recipients; and, to avoid all confusion, the portion
of each individual was enclosed in a sealed packet, and addressed to
the respective parties. After the morning service was over, the Rector
met his poor in the vestry, and George delivered to each claimant the
packet inscribed for him. This was always followed by a short address,
and an earnest prayer from Dr. Leatrim. It was a happy day for him and
George, who seemed to enjoy it as much as his father.
'You may imagine the consternation of the Rector, when he opened the
box on the Saturday morning, and found the same deficiency which had
struck him as so remarkable on the previous Christmas.
'The Earl of B---- generally gave a five-sovereign gold piece at
Easter, and his numerous lordly visitors always followed suit. The
Doctor was never behind-hand with his noble neighbours, and many of the
well-to-do yeomen gave their sovereigns and half-sovereigns, and there
was no lack of silver.
'This day not a single gold piece was to be found in the box. The
conviction was unwillingly forced upon the Rector's mind that the
church had been robbed both before and now. But by whom? It was a
Bramah lock, the secret only known to himself, Ralph, and his son
George.
'The good man felt fear clutch at his heart with an iron grip. But the
thing had to be investigated, however repugnant to his feelings.
'Before he mentioned it to his family, and in order to satisfy his own
uneasiness, Dr. Leatrim thought it best to obtain a private interview
with the Earl, and inquire what he had given, as a foundation upon
which to ground his own investigations. The information he obtained
from this quarter did not lessen the difficulty.
'The Earl told him at once that he had given five sovereigns in gold,
and that he believed the Duke of A----, who was a guest at the castle,
had done the same; that a maiden aunt of the Earl's, who was very rich,
had put in ten; and all the members of his household, not excluding the
servants, who were constant attendants upon Dr. Leatrim's ministry, had
given liberally; that the box must have been robbed, and that to a
considerable amount. My uncle returned home a miserable man. A great
and heinous sin had been committed. To suspect any of the members of
his household was a sin almost as great. What was to be done?