The Little Story of the Lion and the Lamb
During those three months of October, November, and December, Mr
Maguire was certainly not idle. He had, by means of pertinacious
inquiry, learned a good deal about Miss Mackenzie; indeed, he had
learned most of the facts which the reader knows, though not quite
all of them. He had seen Jonathan Ball's will, and he had seen Walter
Mackenzie's will. He had ascertained, through Miss Colza, that John
Ball now claimed the property by some deed said to have been executed
by Jonathan Ball previous to the execution of his will; and he
had also learned, from Miss Mackenzie's own lips, in Lady Ball's
presence, that she had engaged herself to marry the man who was thus
claiming her property. Why should Mr Ball want to marry her,--who
would in such a case be penniless,--but that he felt himself
compelled in that way to quell all further inquiry into the thing
that he was doing? And why should she desire to marry him, but that
in this way she might, as it were, go with her own property, and not
lose the value of it herself when compelled to surrender it to her
cousin? That she would have given herself, with all her property, to
him,--Maguire,--a few months ago, Mr Maguire felt fully convinced,
and, as I have said before, had some ground for such conviction. He
had learned also from Miss Colza, that Miss Mackenzie had certainly
quarrelled with Lady Ball, and that she had, so Miss Colza believed,
been turned out of the house at the Cedars. Whether Mr Ball had or
had not abandoned his matrimonial prospects, Miss Colza could not
quite determine. Having made up her mind to hate Miss Mackenzie, and
therefore, as was natural, thinking that no gentleman could really
like such "a poor dowdy creature," she rather thought that he had
abandoned his matrimonial prospects. Mr Maguire had thus learned much
on the subject; but he had not learned this:--that John Ball was
honest throughout in the matter, and that the lawyers employed in it
were honest also.
And now, having got together all this information, and he himself
being in a somewhat precarious condition as to his own affairs, Mr
Maguire resolved upon using his information boldly. He had a not
incorrect idea of the fitness of things, and did not fail to tell
himself that were he at that moment in possession of those clerical
advantages which his labours in the vineyard should have earned
for him, he would not have run the risk which he must undoubtedly
incur by engaging himself in this matter. Had he a full church
at Littlebath depending on him, had Mr Stumfold's chance and Mr
Stumfold's success been his, had he still even been an adherent of
the Stumfoldian fold, he would have paused before he rushed to the
public with an account of Miss Mackenzie's grievance. But as matters
stood with him, looking round upon his own horizon, he did not
see that he had any course before him more likely to lead to good
pecuniary results, than this.
The reader has been told how Mr Maguire went to Arundel Street,
and how he was there received. But that reception did not at all
daunt his courage. It showed him that the lady was still under the
Ball influence, and that his ally, Miss Colza, was probably wrong
in supposing that the Ball marriage was altogether off. But this
only made him the more determined to undermine that influence, and
to prevent that marriage. If he could once succeed in convincing
the lady that her best chance of regaining her fortune lay in his
assistance, or if he could even convince her that his interference
must result, either with or without her good wishes, in dividing her
altogether from the Ball alliance, then she would be almost compelled
to throw herself into his arms. That she was violently in love with
him he did not suppose, nor did he think it at all more probable that
she should be violently in love with her cousin. He put her down
in his own mind as one of those weak, good women, who can bring
themselves easily to love any man, and who are sure to make useful
wives, because they understand so thoroughly the nature of obedience.
If he could secure for her her fortune, and could divide her from
John Ball, he had but little doubt that she would come to him,
in spite of the manner in which she had refused to receive him
in Arundel Street. Having considered all this, after the mode of
thinking which I have attempted to describe, he went to work with
such weapons as were readiest to his hands.
As a first step, he wrote boldly to John Ball. In this letter
he reasserted the statement he had made to Lady Ball as to Miss
Mackenzie's engagement to himself, and added some circumstances
which he had not mentioned to Lady Ball. He said, that having become
engaged to that lady, he had, in consequence, given up his curacy
at Littlebath, and otherwise so disarranged his circumstances, as
to make it imperative upon him to take the steps which he was now
taking. He had come up to London, expecting to find her anxious
to receive him in Gower Street, and had then discovered that she
had been taken away to the Cedars. He could not, he said, give any
adequate description of his surprise, when, on arriving there, he
heard from the mouth of his own Margaret that she was now engaged to
her cousin. But if his surprise then had been great and terrible, how
much greater and more terrible must it have been when, step by step,
the story of that claim upon her fortune revealed itself to him! He
pledged himself, in his letter, as a gentleman and as a Christian
minister, to see the matter out. He would not allow Miss Mackenzie
to be despoiled of her fortune and her hand,--both of which he had
a right to regard as his own,--without making known to the public a
transaction which he regarded as nefarious. Then there was a good
deal of eloquent indignation the nature and purport of which the
reader will probably understand.
Mr Ball did not at all like this letter. He had that strong feeling
of disinclination to be brought before the public with reference
to his private affairs, which is common to all Englishmen; and
he specially had a dislike to this, seeing that there would be a
question not only as to money, but also as to love. A gentleman does
not like to be accused of a dishonest attempt to possess himself of a
lady's property; but, at the age of fifty, even that is almost better
than one which charges him with such attempt against a lady's heart.
He knew that he was not dishonest, and therefore could endure the
first. He was not quite sure that he was not, or might not become,
ridiculous, and therefore feared the latter very greatly. He could
not ignore the letter, and there was nothing for it but to show it to
his lawyer. Unfortunately, he had told this lawyer, on the very day
of Mr Maguire's visit to the Cedars, that all was to be made smooth
by his marriage with Miss Mackenzie; and now, with much misery
and many inward groanings, he had to explain all this story of Mr
Maguire. It was the more painful in that he had to admit that an
offer had been made to the lady by the clergyman, and had not been
rejected.
"You don't think there was more than that?" asked the lawyer, having
paved the way for his question with sundry apologetic flourishes.
"I am sure there was not," said John Ball. "She is as true as the
Gospel, and he is as false as the devil."
"Oh, yes," said the lawyer; "there's no doubt about his falsehood.
He's one of those fellows for whom nothing is too dirty. Clergymen
are like women. As long as they're pure, they're a long sight purer
than other men; but when they fall, they sink deeper."
"You needn't be afraid of taking her word," said John Ball. "If all
women were as pure as she is, there wouldn't be much amiss with
them." His eyes glittered as he spoke of her, and it was a pity that
Margaret could not have heard him then, and seen him there.
"You don't think she has been--just a little foolish, you know?"
"I think she was very foolish in not bidding such a man to go about
his business, at once. But she has not been more so than what she
owns. She is as brave as she is good, and I don't think she would
keep anything back."
The result was that a letter was written by the lawyer to Mr Maguire,
telling Mr Maguire that any further communication should be made
to him; and also making a slight suggestion as to the pains and
penalties which are incurred in the matter of a libel. Mr Maguire had
dated his letter from Littlebath, and there the answer reached him.
He had returned thither, having found that he could take no further
immediate steps towards furthering his cause in London.
And now, what steps should he take next? More than once he thought
of putting his own case into the hands of a lawyer; but what was a
lawyer to do for him? An action for breach of promise was open to
him, but he had wit enough to feel that there was very little chance
of success for him in that line. He might instruct a lawyer to look
into Miss Mackenzie's affairs, and he thought it probable that he
might find a lawyer to take such instructions. But there would be
much expense in this, and, probably, no result. Advancing logically
from one conclusion to another, he at last resolved that he must rush
boldly into print, and lay the whole iniquity of the transaction open
to the public.
He believed--I think he did believe--that the woman was being
wronged. Some particle of such belief he had, and fostering himself
with this, he sat himself down, and wrote a leading article.
Now there existed in Littlebath at this time a weekly periodical
called the _Christian Examiner_, with which Mr Maguire had for some
time had dealings. He had written for the paper, taking an earnest
part in local religious subjects; and the paper, in return, had
very frequently spoken highly of Mr Maguire's eloquence, and of Mr
Maguire's energy. There had been a give and take in this, which all
people understand who are conversant with the provincial, or perhaps
I might add, with the metropolitan press of the country. The paper
in question was not a wicked paper, nor were the gentlemen concerned
in its publication intentionally scurrilous or malignant; but it was
subject to those great temptations which beset all class newspapers
of the kind, and to avoid which seems to be almost more difficult, in
handling religious subjects, than in handling any other. The editor
of a _Christian Examiner_, if, as is probable, he have, of his own,
very strong and one-sided religious convictions, will think that
those who differ from him are in a perilous way, and so thinking,
will feel himself bound to tell them so. The man who advocates one
line of railway instead of another, or one prime minister as being
superior to all others, does not regard his opponents as being
fatally wrong,--wrong for this world and for the next,--and he can
restrain himself. But how is a newspaper writer to restrain himself
when his opponent is incurring everlasting punishment, or, worse
still, carrying away others to a similar doom, in that they read, and
perhaps even purchase, that which the lost one has written? In this
way the contents of religious newspapers are apt to be personal;
and heavy, biting, scorching attacks, become the natural vehicle of
_Christian Examiners_.
Mr Maguire sat down and wrote his leading article, which on the
following Saturday appeared in all the glory of large type. The
article shall not be repeated here at length, because it contained
sundry quotations from Holy Writ which may as well be omitted,
but the purport of it shall be explained. It commenced with a
dissertation against an undue love of wealth,--the _auri sacra
fames_, as the writer called it; and described with powerful unction
the terrible straits into which, when indulged, it led the vile,
wicked, ugly, hideous, loathsome, devilish human heart. Then there
was an eloquent passage referring to worms and dust and grass, and
a quotation respecting treasures both corruptible and incorruptible.
Not at once, but with crafty gradations, the author sloped away to
the point of his subject. How fearful was it to watch the way in
which the strong, wicked ones,--the roaring lions of the earth,
beguiled the ignorance of the innocent, and led lonely lambs into
their slaughter-houses. All this, much amplified, made up half
the article; and then, after the manner of a pleasant relater of
anecdotes, the clerical story-teller began his little tale. When,
however, he came to the absolute writing of the tale, he found it
to be prudent for the present to omit the names of his hero and
heroine--to omit, indeed, the names of all the persons concerned. He
had first intended boldly to dare it all, and perhaps would yet have
done so had he been quite sure of his editor. But his editor he found
might object to these direct personalities at the first sound of the
trumpet, unless the communication were made in the guise of a letter,
with Mr Maguire's name at the end of it. After a while the editor
might become hot in the fight himself, and then the names could
be blazoned forth. And there existed some chance,--some small
chance,--that the robber-lion, John Ball, might be induced to drop
his lamb from his mouth when he heard this premonitory blast, and
then the lion's prey might be picked up by--"the bold hunter," Mr
Maguire would probably have said, had he been called upon to finish
the sentence himself; anyone else might, perhaps, say, by the jackal.
The little story was told, therefore, without the mention of any
names. Mr Maguire had read other little stories told in another
way in other newspapers, of greater weight, no doubt, than the
Littlebath _Christian Examiner_, and had thought that he could
wield a thunderbolt as well as any other Jupiter; but in wielding
thunderbolts, as in all other operations of skill, a man must first
try his 'prentice hand with some reticence; and thus he reconciled
himself to prudence, not without some pangs of conscience which
accused him inwardly of cowardice.
"Not long ago there was a lady in this town, loved and respected by
all who knew her." Thus he began, and then gave a not altogether
inaccurate statement of the whole affair, dropping, of course, his
own share in the concern, and accusing the vile, wicked, hideous,
loathsome human heart of the devouring lion, who lived some miles
to the west end of London, of a brutal desire and a hellish scheme
to swallow up the inheritance of the innocent, loved, and respected
lamb, in spite of the closest ties of consanguinity between them. And
then he went on to tell how, with a base desire of covering up from
the eyes of an indignant public his bestial greediness in having made
this dishonest meal, the lion had proposed to himself the plan of
marrying the lamb! It was a pity that Maguire had not learned--that
Miss Colza had not been able to tell him--that the lion had once
before expressed his wish to take the lamb for his wife. Had he
known that, what a picture he would have drawn of the disappointed
vindictive king of the forest, as lying in his lair at Twickenham he
meditated his foul revenge! This unfortunately was unknown to Mr
Maguire and unsuspected by him.
But the article did not end here. The indignant writer of it went on
to say that he had buckled on his armour in support of the lamb, and
that he was ready to meet the lion either in the forest or in any
social circle; either in the courts of law or before any Christian
arbitrator. With loud trumpetings, he summoned the lion to appear and
plead guilty, or to stand forward, if he dared, and declare himself
innocent with his hand on his heart. If the lion could prove himself
to be innocent the writer of that article offered him the right hand
of fellowship, an offer which the lion would not, perhaps, regard
as any strong inducement; but if the lion were not innocent--if, as
the writer of that article was well aware was the case, the lion was
basely, greedily, bestially guilty, then the writer of that article
pledged himself to give the lion no peace till he had disgorged his
prey, and till the lamb was free to come back, with all her property,
to that Christian circle in Littlebath which had loved her so warmly
and respected her so thoroughly.
Such was the nature of the article, and the editor put it in. After
all, what, in such matters, is an editor to do? Is it not his
business to sell his paper? And if the editor of a _Christian
Examiner_ cannot trust the clergyman he has sat under, whom can he
trust? Some risk an editor is obliged to run, or he will never sell
his paper. There could be little doubt that such an article as this
would be popular among the religious world of Littlebath, and that it
would create a demand. He had his misgivings--had that poor editor.
He did not feel quite sure of his lion and his lamb. He talked the
matter over vehemently with Mr Maguire in the little room in which
he occupied himself with his scissors and his paste; but ultimately
the article was inserted. Who does not know that interval of triumph
which warms a man's heart when he has delivered his blow, and
the return blow has not been yet received? The blow has been so
well struck that it must be successful, nay, may probably be
death-dealing. So felt Mr Maguire when two dozen copies of the
_Christian Examiner_ were delivered at his lodgings on the Saturday
morning. The article, though printed as a leading article, had been
headed as a little story,--"The Lion and the Lamb,"--so that it might
more readily attract attention. It read very nicely in print. It
had all that religious unction which is so necessary for _Christian
Examiners_, and with it that spice of devilry, so delicious to
humanity that without it even _Christian Examiners_ cannot be made
to sell themselves. He was very busy with his two dozen damp copies
before him,--two dozen which had been sent to him, by agreement, as
the price of his workmanship. He made them up and directed them with
his own hand. To the lion and the lamb he sent two copies, two to
each. To Mr Slow he sent a copy, and another to Messrs Slow and
Bideawhile, and a third to the other lawyer. He sent a copy to Lady
Ball and one to Sir John. Another he sent to the old Mackenzie,
baronet at Incharrow, and two more to the baronet's eldest son, and
the baronet's eldest son's wife. A copy he sent to Mrs Tom Mackenzie,
and a copy to Miss Colza; and a copy also he sent to Mrs Buggins.
And he sent a copy to the Chairman of the Board at the Shadrach Fire
Office, and another to the Chairman at the Abednego Life Office. A
copy he sent to Mr Samuel Rubb, junior, and a copy to Messrs Rubb and
Mackenzie. Out of his own pocket he supplied the postage stamps, and
with his own hand he dropped the papers into the Littlebath
post-office.
Poor Miss Mackenzie, when she read the article, was stricken almost
to the ground. How she did hate the man whose handwriting on the
address she recognised at once! What should she do? In her agony
she almost resolved that she would start at once for the Cedars and
profess her willingness to go before all the magistrates in London
and Littlebath, and swear that her cousin was no lion and that she
was no lamb. At that moment her feelings towards the Christians
and _Christian Examiners_ of Littlebath were not the feelings of
a Griselda. I think she could have spoken her mind freely had Mr
Maguire come in her way. Then, when she saw Mrs Buggins's copy, her
anger blazed up afresh, and her agony became more intense. The horrid
man must have sent copies all over the world, or he would never have
thought of sending a copy to Mrs Buggins!
But she did not go to the Cedars. She reflected that when there she
might probably find her cousin absent, and in such case she would
hardly know how to address herself to her aunt. Mr Ball, too, might
perhaps come to her, and for three days she patiently awaited his
coming. On the evening of the third day there came to her, not Mr
Ball, but a clerk from Mr Slow, the same clerk who had been with her
before, and he made an appointment with her at Mr Slow's office on
the following morning. She was to meet Mr Ball there, and also to
meet Mr Ball's lawyer. Of course she consented to go, and of course
she was on Mr Slow's staircase exactly at the time appointed. Of what
she was thinking as she walked round Lincoln's Inn Fields to kill a
quarter of an hour which she found herself to have on hand, we will
not now inquire.
She was shown at once into Mr Slow's room, and the first thing that
met her eyes was a copy of that horrible _Christian Examiner_, lying
on the table before him. She knew it instantly, and would have known
it had she simply seen a corner of the printing. To her eyes and
to her mind, no other printed paper had ever been so ugly and so
vicious. But she saw that there was also another newspaper under the
_Christian Examiner_. Mr Slow brought her to the fire, and gave her
a chair, and was very courteous. In a few moments came the other
lawyer, and with him came John Ball.
Mr Slow opened the conference, all the details of which need not be
given here. He first asked Miss Mackenzie whether she had seen that
wicked libel. She, with much energy and, I may almost say, with
virulence, declared that the horrid paper had been sent to her. She
hoped that nobody suspected that she had known anything about it.
In answer to this, they all assured her that she need not trouble
herself on that head. Mr Slow then told her that a London paper had
copied the whole story of the "Lion and the Lamb," expressing a hope
that the lion would be exposed if there was any truth in it, and the
writer would be exposed if there was none.
"The writer was Mr Maguire, a clergyman," said Miss Mackenzie, with
indignation.
"We all know that," said Mr Slow, with a slight smile on his face.
Then he went on reading the remarks of the London paper, which
declared that the Littlebath _Christian Examiner_, having gone so
far, must, of necessity, go further. The article was calculated to
give the greatest pain to, no doubt, many persons; and the innocence
or guilt of "the Lion," as poor John Ball was called, must be made
manifest to the public.
"And now, my dear Miss Mackenzie, I will tell you what we propose to
do," said Mr Slow. He then explained that it was absolutely necessary
that a question of law should be tried and settled in a court of
law, between her and her cousin. When she protested against this, he
endeavoured to explain to her that the cause would be an amicable
cause, a simple reference, in short, to a legal tribunal. Of course,
she did not understand this, and, of course, she still protested; but
after a while, when she began to perceive that her protest was of no
avail, she let that matter drop. The cause should be brought on as
soon as possible, but could not be decided till late in the spring.
She was told that she had better make no great change in her own
manner of life till that time, and was again informed that she could
have what money she wanted for her own maintenance. She refused to
take any money: but when the reference was made to some proposed
change in her life, she looked wistfully into her cousin's face. He,
however, had nothing to say then, and kept his eyes intently fixed
upon the carpet.
Mr Slow then took up the _Christian Examiner_, and declared to her
what was their intention with reference to that. A letter should
be written from his house to the editor of the London newspaper,
giving a plain statement of the case, with all the names, explaining
that all the parties were acting in perfect concert, and that the
matter was to be decided in the only way which could be regarded as
satisfactory. In answer to this, Miss Mackenzie, almost in tears,
pointed out how distressing would be the publicity thus given to her
name "particularly"--she said, "particularly--" But she could not go
on with the expression of her thoughts, or explain that so public a
reference to a proposal of marriage from her cousin must be doubly
painful to her, seeing that the idea of such a marriage had been
abandoned. But Mr Slow understood all this, and, coming over to her,
took her gently by the hand.
"My dear," he said, "you may trust me in this as though I were your
father. I know that such publicity is painful; but, believe me, it is
the best that we can do."
Of course she had no alternative but to yield.
When the interview was over, her cousin walked home with her to
Arundel Street, and said much to her as to the necessity for this
trial. He said so much, that she, at last, dimly understood that
the matter could not be set at rest by her simple renouncing of the
property. Her own lawyer could not allow her to do so; nor could he,
John Ball, consent to receive the property in such a manner. "You
see, by that newspaper, what people would say of me."
But had he not the power of making everything easy by doing that
which he himself had before proposed to do? Why did he not again say,
"Margaret, come and be my wife?" She acknowledged to herself that he
had a right to act as though he had never said those words,--that the
facts elicited by Mr Maguire's visit to the Cedars were sufficient to
absolve him from his offer. But yet she thought that they should have
been sufficient also to induce him to renew it.
On that occasion, when he left her at the door in Arundel Street, he
had not renewed his offer.