The World Before Them Volume Ii Part 14

"My brother Francis."

"And where is he at present?"

"That would be a difficult question to answer. Here and there and everywhere. Like most young men of the world, where ever pleasure or love of excitement leads him. Should this t.i.tle fall to him, I fear it would be the very worst thing that could happen to him."

"That does not necessarily follow."

"My dear friend, an increase of wealth to men of very dissipated habits, seldom leads to improvement. It only gives them a greater opportunity of being wicked. I would much rather the Earl married again."

"That is not at all likely. He seems to have outlived all human pa.s.sion.

His hopes and affections are entirely centred in this son."

"How dreadful is the rending asunder of ties that bind us closely to the earth," said Mr. Fitzmorris. "I speak from painful experience--but it must be done to bring us to G.o.d with whole and undivided hearts. It is only through much suffering, mental or physical, but generally both combined, that men come to a knowledge of their own weakness, and the all-sufficiency of Christ, to satisfy the cravings of the soul, for a higher and more perfect state of existence."

"By the hints you threw out in your sermon, Mr. Fitzmorris, I was led to imagine that your own conversion had been brought about by some heavy affliction."

"Yes, I have felt the deep anguish of offering up a bleeding heart upon the altar of duty. But oh, how great has been my reward! what joy and peace has arisen out of the very sorrow that was at first so overwhelming. What a blessed light sprang out of that dense darkness, when the Holy Spirit first illumined, with irresistible splendour, the black gulf of despair in which my soul lay grovelling. Though keenly conscious of my lost state, I was totally unable to express my wants and desires in prayer.

"A humble instrument was sent to aid me in that terrible conflict. A rude, uneducated man, but a sincere Christian, who had recently entered my service, and who watched by my sick bed when all my friends forsook me for fear of infection. He it was who opened up to me the sublime truths of the Gospel, and taught me to pray.

"To me, he became more than a friend or brother, my father in Christ. I loved him as only a son new-born to life could love such a benefactor.

When I recovered from that terrible fever, he took it and died.

"Oh, what a triumph was that death! How serenely he rendered up his simple soul to his Creator, and entered the dark river with a smile upon his lips, and the light of Heaven upon his brow. Whenever my faith grows weak, I think of Harley's death-bed, and become as strong as a lion ready to battle for the truth against a whole world combined."

"You are no bigot either, Fitzmorris."

"I abhor it in any shape. Religion was meant to make men happy, not gloomy, morose, and censorious, condemning others because they cannot think as we think, or see any particular advantages in the forms and ceremonies that we deem essential. It is only in modes of worship that real Christians differ. I always endeavour to look beyond the outward and material, to the inward and spiritual."

Henry Martin was very much of the same way of thinking, but he was not such an enthusiast as Gerald Fitzmorris, and, perhaps, lacked the mental courage to avow it.

For some weeks, Mr. Fitzmorris was so much engaged in going round the two parishes of Hadstone and s...o...b.., for he had been inducted into both, and getting acquainted with the church members, that Dorothy could go and practice her lessons without any fear of meeting him.

s...o...b.., being a sea-port town containing several thousand inhabitants, offered a larger field of usefulness, and the Hadstone folk were left almost entirely to the care of Henry Martin, Mr. Fitzmorris occasionally preaching and inspecting the Sunday school.

There was no evening service at Hadstone, and the distance to s...o...b.. being within the compa.s.s of a pleasant walk, the Martins and Dorothy generally walked over to listen to the vicar's eloquent preaching.

Every day he grew in their affection and esteem; he was so kind and cheerful, so amiable to the children, and so contented with Mrs.

Martin's humble arrangements for his comfort, that she often told Dorothy that he was a "treasure of a man."

He was generally up for a morning walk by five o'clock, when he never failed to call the children, telling them to come with him to the fields and learn wisdom.

Dorothy had several times joined the party, and been a delighted listener to his lessons in natural history. He never failed to lead their minds upward from the contemplation of the works of the Creator, to the Creator himself, making religion a beautiful, holy, and practical thing.

"The Lord's kingdom is a world of wonders," he said; "the more we study nature, the greater He becomes in our eyes, the more insignificant we seem in our own. Look around you, dear children. The Heavens declare the glory of G.o.d. David learned that sublime lesson ages ago. The seasons and their changes present a constant succession of miracles to those who study them with the eye of faith. On every side we are encompa.s.sed by a cloud of witnesses to testify of the Divine love, the inexhaustible contrivance, and the infinite wisdom of the Deity.

"Look at this exquisite little flower, its tiny petals so minute that a rude touch would blot them out of existence; yet examine them in this microscope, and behold how perfect they are--'that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.'"

"But some things are very ugly," said Harry. "I hate snakes and toads."

"Both, though repulsive in our eyes, are not without their beauty. The toad has a sparkling eye, and the snake is graceful in his movements.

The swiftness and agility with which he glides over the ground, presents a wonderful ill.u.s.tration of the mechanical skill of the great Contriver."

"Oh," said Dorothy, "there is no pleasure to me so great as observing the works of G.o.d in his creation."

"You are right, Dorothy, to encourage such sentiments. The love of nature is a sinless enjoyment, in which angels share. Nature is a material embodiment of divine truth, and if studied rightly, brings the mind into communion with the great Father, whose Spirit lives through all. Yea, even inanimate substances, or those which we consider as such, obey His commands and work out His will. This, to our finite comprehension, is unintelligible, but nothing is without its significance to Him whose Spirit exists in every atom that His wisdom has called into being.

"Despise not the lowest forms of life, for His power is shown as fully in the smallest insect, as in the lordly being who bears His image, and calls himself man.

"Can you look at anything, however mean, as made in vain, when it required the mind of a G.o.d to give it a place in His universe?

"Oh that man could comprehend the perfect unity that exists between G.o.d and His works. From the least to the greatest, if one among them had not been necessary, it would never have been formed, for the Creator does nothing in vain. There is no waste in the Divine economy. He gathers up the fragments so that nothing is lost, but renews them in other forms to suit His own purpose. Thus the chain of existence runs on through the long ages of eternity, and not one link is broken, though the law of change operates on all."

"Now, Harry, you must not abuse toads and snakes any more," said Rosina, "for they are as much G.o.d's creatures as we are, and I hate to see you kill them, when they are not doing you any harm."

"Well said, little Rosey," and Mr. Fitzmorris patted her curly head.

"'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.' Cultivate purity of heart, and universal benevolence, which are very acceptable in the sight of the good Father. And that reminds me, dear children, that I have work of another sort to do, and must not loiter away the precious time among the green gra.s.s and the sunbeams any longer."

"The day is so pleasant--everything looks so lovely," said Dorothy, "I agree with the poet, 'Methinks it is good to be here.'"

Reluctantly they all rose from the green hill-side to return to the parsonage. Rosey and Johnnie, as the youngest of the party, claiming the right to walk with Mr. Fitzmorris. Dearly the children loved him, for he taught them with a gentle authority, which, while it inspired awe, greatly increased their affection. "You are a great friend to the working cla.s.ses, Mr. Fitzmorris," said Dorothy, as they walked over the heath.

Dorothy loved to hear him talk, and wanted to engage him in conversation.

"Our blessed Master was one of them," he said cheerfully. "They are peculiarly His people, for like the birds of the air, they live under His especial providence, and are generally more thankful recipients of His bounty than the rich. I despise the man, be his rank in life what it may, who is ashamed of honest labour. Industry is a healthful recreation both for the body and mind, and is the genuine parent of honesty. Our good Hannah More has said, that 'cleanliness is next to G.o.dliness,' but poor people must be industrious before they can afford to be clean. The three united form a beautiful harmony."

"I suppose that that is the reason, Mr. Fitzmorris, that you work so much in the garden, and in papa's potato field, instead of going out visiting like other folks?"

Mr. Fitzmorris laughed heartily.

"I enjoy a little healthy work for its own sake, Harry, when it does not take me away from necessary duties. I have seed to sow, and visits to make that you wot not of. A wise man has said, and I fully endorse the sentiment, that 'The Lord's kingdom is a kingdom of uses.' 'My Father works. .h.i.therto, and I work,' said the blessed Master. If duty calls you to work, work as he worked--not merely for your own advantage, but for the benefit of others. While labouring at any profitable employment, never forget the poor and dest.i.tute, whose wants may be alleviated by your diligence."

"I wish you would teach me, Mr. Fitzmorris," said Dorothy, "how to work less for myself and more for my fellow creatures. It must be a blessed thing, when it makes you so happy."

"I have my sorrows, too, Dorothy," he said, with a sigh. "But they are of a less personal nature than they were formerly. I grieve for those near and dear to me that cannot understand the peace and freedom that I have found; that will not believe that the religion of Jesus enlarges the heart, till it could encircle the world in its wide embrace. To those whose eyes have been miraculously opened to the light of truth, the condition of the wilfully blind is sad indeed."

The cheek lately flushed with exercise, was very pale now, and the wonderful eyes moist with tears, and he walked some paces quickly in advance of his companion, then turning back, he said in his usual kind, but rather abrupt manner:

"Dorothy, if you wish to take a lesson from me, and see how I work, come to-morrow afternoon at four o'clock, and I will show you a new method of employing your time." They were now opposite the curate's garden, and Dorothy turned up the lane and retraced her steps to the farm.

Exactly as the clock struck four, she rapped at Mr. Fitzmorris' study door. He was ready to receive her, his hat and gloves lay on the table beside him, and a small carpet-bag lying on the floor. He closed the book he was reading, and rose to meet her.

"I am glad to see you so punctual, Dorothy; it is a valuable quality. I hate to wait for any one, and still more, that any one should wait for me. You remember that awful parable of the five foolish virgins. I never read it without a secret fear, lest death should find me with no oil in my lamp. But we will talk as we go along, if you are not afraid of trusting yourself with me?"

"Mr. Fitzmorris, how can you imagine such a thing?" and Dorothy looked up in his face as if to reproach him for her supposed want of faith.

"I should not blame you a bit, Dorothy Chance, after the long lecture I read you about your imprudence in meeting Lord Wilton alone on the heath. You must think me a great hypocrite for taking you out alone with me. But Mrs. Martin has made me acquainted with your history, and I respect you for defending the character of the man who has, indeed, proved himself to you, a sincere friend, who from Henry Martin's account of him, I trust is slowly, though surely, striving to enter the straight gate that leads to heaven."

"Oh, Mr. Fitzmorris, you are so good and truthful, it is impossible to be angry with you long; and I was angry with you for speaking so harshly of poor Lord Wilton, but I love you all the better now, for confessing so frankly that you were in error." She held out her hand as she spoke.