A CONFESSION.
"My father, Colonel Gerard Fitzmorris, was brother to Sir Thomas, the father of the present Earl of Wilton. Gerard was many years younger than his brother; a large family having died between their respective births. He held the rank of colonel in the army, and served the whole of the American War of Independence, and had gained the reputation of a brave and distinguished officer. After the termination of the struggle, he returned to England, and married Lady Charlotte Granville, sister to the Lady Dorothy Fitzmorris. These beautiful and accomplished women, were the only children of the late Earl of Wilton.
"This was an excellent match for my father, in the common parlance of the world; but was one entirely of convenience on his part. He was a handsome dashing soldier, and was held in great esteem by men of his own class, who considered him the model of a perfect gentleman and a leader in the ranks of fashion, where he shone as a star of the first magnitude. In short, he was one of those easy-going reckless men, who are known among their companions as excellent fellows. Men, whose hearts are in the right place, who spend their money freely and are only enemies to themselves. They may drink, and swear, and gamble, and break God's commandments with impunity; drawing others into the same maddening vortex by their vile example; but the world, for which they live, excuses all their faults. They are of it, have sworn allegiance to it body and soul, and as long as they retain wealth and influence, it will continue to make idols of them.
"Colonel Fitzmorris, in addition to all these conventional advantages, possessed the act of pleasing in an eminent degree, and was admired and courted by the other sex as the beau ideal of manly beauty and elegance. Doubtless it was these external graces that captivated and won the heart of my mother.
"People wondered that the proud Earl should give his consent to the marriage of his daughter, with a man of moderate fortune and dissipated habits; but she was the child of his old age, the sole fruit of a second marriage; another petted idol of his heart. From a baby she had been used to have her own way, and the doting father could not withstand her passionate appeals to his parental affection, to be allowed to marry the man of her own choice.
"The Earl, in this case, appears reluctantly to have yielded to her wishes; and delayed the marriage until after she had attained her majority; hoping that time and the gaieties of London would divert her affections from my father, and concentrate them upon a more eligible object. She, however, remained firm to her attachment, and their marriage was celebrated with unusual magnificence. A prince of the blood royal gave away the bride, who inherited a fine fortune from her mother, which, I fear, was the sole inducement my father had in making her his wife.
"My poor deceived mother, I have every reason to believe, was passionately fond of her husband; but retiring in her habits, she lacked the art to secure the affection of a man of the world, and such a general lover as Colonel Fitzmorris was known to be.
"She was his legal wife, but not the mistress of his heart. In public he treated her with marked attention and politeness, which he considered due to a woman of her rank; in private she was neglected altogether, or regarded with cool indifference; and having no inclination for the ostentatious show of a life spent in public, my dear mother passed most of her time in the country with her infant sons, at the beautiful seat which had formed a part of her noble dower.
"While she continued to love my father, his conduct must have occasioned her great anguish of mind. A faithful female attendant has since informed me that most of her solitary nights were spent in tears. After every tender feeling had been torn and estranged, and indifference succeeded to love, she, unfortunately, transferred the affections which had never been reciprocated by her faithless partner, to a man who, had she known previous to her ill-starred marriage, would have been worthy of her love.
"General Halstead commanded the brigade in which my father was colonel, and was a constant visitor at the house. He was a man in middle life, with a fine, gentlemanly presence, frank, brave, and independent, had read and travelled much, and could talk well on most subjects. He was very kind to us boys, and we both loved him, for we saw a great deal more of him than of our father, who never kissed or played with us as General Halstead did.
"But to hasten a sad story. General Halstead sought and won the heart my father had trampled and spurned, and my mother eloped with her seducer to France. I have often since wondered how she could leave her two young sons, who were rendered worse than orphans by her rash desertion.
"I can just remember my mother. She was always gentle and kind to Francis and me. We so seldom saw our father that we loved her with the most ardent affection. I recollect the fatal night of her departure as well as if it were but yesterday. The weather was July, and oppressively warm, and Mrs. Starling, the nurse, put us early to bed, that we might not disturb Lady Charlotte, who was dressing to go to a large party, she said, 'and could not play with us that night.'
"I was a nervous, irritable boy. I could not sleep for the heat, and lay awake watching the moon, and the strange shadows thrown by the vine-leaves that encircled the window, upon the white curtains of my bed. At last I grew frightened by the grotesque shapes, which my too active imagination endowed with life and motion, when the summer breeze from the open window stirred the drapery.
"I began to cry piteously.
"A figure glided into the room, and sat down beside me on the bed. It was my mother. She was dressed for a journey, and wore a dark cloth riding habit, and a broad black velvet hat and white feathers. She was a tall, elegant-looking woman, more remarkable, I have been told, for her exquisite form than for her face. She was, if anything, too fair, with dark blue eyes and flaxen hair like my own. She used to call me her dear, white-headed boy, and congratulate herself on my being a Granville—her maiden name—and not a Fitzmorris. That night she looked very pale and sad, and seen in the white moon-light, appeared more like a ghost than a creature of warm flesh and blood.
"'What ails my darling boy?' she said, and took me out of the bed into her lap, pressing me tightly to her breast, and kissing the tears from my wet cheeks.
"'I am afraid, mamma.' I trembled and looked timidly towards the curtains.
"'Afraid of what?' and her eyes followed mine with a startled expression.
"'Of those things dancing on the bed curtains. Don't you see the black, ugly creatures, mamma?'
"'They are only shadows; they cannot hurt you, Gerard.'
"'Oh, yes, they can. They are coming for me. Don't let them carry me away.' I clung to her, and hid my face in her bosom. 'Oh, do stay with me, dear mamma, until I go to sleep! Don't leave me alone!'
"I felt her warm tears falling fast over my face. She kissed me over and over again, then tried to lay me down quietly in the bed. I did not want to go to bed, and I flung my arms round her neck, and held her with desperate energy.
"'Don't go! If you love me, mamma, don't go!'
"'I must go, my dear boy.'
"'What, to-night, mamma!'
"'Yes to-night, the carriage is waiting.'
"Her lips quivered, she wrung her hands with an impatient gesture. 'Don't ask any more questions, Gerard, I am going a long journey with a friend. Now lie down like a good boy, and go to sleep.'
"'And when will you come back?'
"She was weeping passionately, and didn't answer.
"'To-morrow?'
"She shook her head.
"'Then take me, too. I will be a good boy—indeed I will. But don't go away and leave me.'
"'I can't take you, Gerard. Where I am going, you cannot come.' She tried to unclasp my clinging arms, but it was some time before she succeeded, I held her so fast.
"'Oh my poor little boys! my poor little boys!' she cried, in an agony of grief, as she bent over me and kissed my sleeping brother. 'What a wretch I am to leave you to the care of such a father. Gerard,' she said softly, 'if I never come back, will you sometimes think of me, and continue to love your poor mother?'
"I was growing sleepy, and was too young to comprehend the terrible truth concealed by those words. I dimly remember, as in a dream, a tall man leaning over us, and extricating my mother from my clinging arms.
"'He is going to sleep, Charlotte, dearest, you should have spared yourself this trying scene.'
"'How can I live without them, Charles?' she sobbed, and stretched her arms towards us.
"'You must now live for me, Charlotte. We have ventured too far to go back. Come away, my love, it is time we were on board.'
"That was the last time I ever saw my mother. Before she left the room I was asleep, in blissful ignorance of the great calamity that had befallen me.
"Though guilty of a terrible crime, I have never been able to banish her from my heart—where she must ever remain, as one of the most beautiful visions of childhood.
"Poor, gentle, affectionate, ill-used mother, with a heart brimful of love and kindness, how dreadful the conflict must have been, between duty to a husband who never loved her, and fidelity to the man by whom she was passionately loved. Terrible must have been her mental struggles, before she resolved to burst those sacred ties asunder, and leave for ever the children so dear to her.
"Was she more guilty than the husband, who in defiance of his marriage vows, lived in open adultery with another woman, on whose children he bestowed the parental love he withheld from those born in lawful wedlock, wasting the noble fortune he obtained through his injured wife among disreputable companions, in low scenes of debauchery and vice.
"The world can always extenuate the fault of the male offender, and lay the blame solely upon his unhappy partner; insinuating that faults of temper, and a want of sympathy in his tastes and pursuits, was most probably the cause of his estrangement—unscrupulously branding her name with scorn and infamy.
"There is One, however, who weighs in an equal balance the cause and the effects produced by it in the actions of men, who will judge her more leniently. The merciful Saviour who said to the erring woman, dragged into His presence to be made a public example and put to a cruel death, 'Woman where are those thine accusers? Hath no man condemned thee? Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more.'
"Oh, how my bosom thrilled and my heart burned within me, when I read that text seriously for the first time, and thought of my poor mother, and was comforted with the blessed hope that she, too, might be forgiven."
Gerard's voice faltered, and Dorothy felt the strong frame tremble with emotion, but the stronger will conquered the human weakness, and he continued:
"My father's sense of honour, in the world's acceptation of the term, was stung by the desertion of his neglected wife. He learned that the fugitives had been seen in Paris, and lost no time in tracing them out. A duel was the result, in which my father received a mortal wound. His body was brought home and buried with due pomp in the family vault. My brother was seven years of age; myself a little chubby boy in frocks and trowsers; and we had to act as chief mourners in that melancholy pageant. We saw the coffin that contained the mortal remains of our father, the once handsome and admired Colonel Fitzmorris, placed in due form among the forgotten members of his ancient house; and after the nine days wonder was over, he was as much forgotten by his fashionable associates as if he had never been. The night before my father died by the hand of the man who had dishonoured him, he made a will leaving everything he possessed to my brother Francis. The settlement made from my mother's property on younger children, alone falling to my share. As there were no other younger children, and the property was considerable, I was nearly as independent as my brother.
"We were left to the guardianship of the Earl of Wilton, who you will remember was our maternal grandfather. The brothers Fitzmorris having married two daughters of that noble house, and females not being excluded from the succession, Sir Thomas Fitzmorris, the present Earl's elder brother, was the heir presumptive to the title and estates.
"Lord Wilton was a cold proud man of the world, and the slur that my mother's elopement, and subsequent marriage with General Halstead, had cast upon the family, did not enhance his love for her children.
"He took more to Frank than he did to me, though he said that he greatly resembled his rascally father. He was a handsome dashing boy, with the same winning popular manners that had contributed to the ruin of Colonel Fitzmorris. Fond of money, but only with the intent to spend it, from a child he paid great court to his wealthy grandfather, in the hope of becoming heir to the immense private fortune he had the power to bestow. In this fortune hunting, Edward Fitzmorris, the present Earl, was quite as much interested as my brother, but he pursued his object with a great deal more tact. The Fitzmorrises, though an old family, and highly connected, were not a wealthy family, and Captain Fitzmorris was a younger son, with little more to depend upon than a very handsome person, and his commission in the army.
"He watched us lads with a very jealous eye, giving us very little cause to regard him with affection. He was many years our senior, his father having married early, and ours late in life—in fact, he was a man, when we were noisy boys, not yet in our teens. It was only during the holidays that we ever met, as we were sent to Eton and then to college.
"It is of no use to tell you, Dorothy, of all the thoughts and follies, which too often mark a schoolboy's and a student's life. Suffice it to say that your grave Gerard was no better than the rest. A more frolicsome mischievous imp, never drew the breath of life, always in trouble and difficulties of some sort or another, and when at Oxford, the most daring leader of the wildest and most reckless set of young fellows that ever threw away fortune, health and respectability, at that famous seat of learning. How little I thought of religion in those days, still less of ever mounting a pulpit, or teaching the poor and ignorant.
"At twenty-one, I received from my grandfather a cadetship for India and went out as a soldier, to fight under the present Lord Wellington, who was then Sir Arthur Wellesley.
"You start, Dorothy. Your future husband a soldier! It is pleasant to read your astonishment in those large wondering eyes. I bear the marks of some hot service too, in sundry ugly scars which I regarded as badges of honour in those world-loving days. It was while suffering severely from one of these wounds, that I was sent home, to see if my native air could restore me to health.
"Before leaving India, I determined, if possible, to obtain an interview with my mother. I had never met her husband, though I had eagerly sought an opportunity to revenge upon him the death of my father.
"My mother, I found, had been dead several months, and her husband had been appointed to command a division in Spain. I was terribly disappointed that I could not shoot this man, who had been the best and kindest of husbands to the woman he had led astray from the path of duty, and was reported as almost inconsolable for her loss.
"When I returned to England, great changes had taken place. My grandfather was dead. My cousin Sir Thomas was likewise dead, and the present Earl, who had been for some years a widower, had come in for the title, and all the immense private fortune belonging to his grandfather.
"Of course, Francis and I felt ourselves very much aggrieved, that we were not mentioned in his will, and my brother who had been living a life of reckless extravagance, and hoping to pay off his debts with his share of the spoil, was terribly disappointed.
"My aunt, Lady Dorothy, for whom I had always felt the deepest regard, invited me to spend the time I remained in England, at her beautiful residence in Devonshire. It was here that I first met her charming cousin, Miss Julia Curzon, with whom I fell in love at first sight.
"Don't be jealous, little one, more episodes of this kind occur in the lives of men than women, and the first love, though remembered the longest, is not always the wisest or the best.
"I did love this fair accomplished girl with all the energy of youthful passion, and my love was not only returned, but accepted, and I looked forward to our union, as the consummation of my earthly happiness. I did not then suspect that she loved the world better than she did me, and was more afraid of incurring its censure than of rendering me miserable for life.
"Several months glided away in that earthly paradise, and in constant companionship with the woman I adored, I considered myself the happiest of men. I saw no clouds in my smiling horizon, and never anticipated a storm. The dark days came at length, that shrouded the sunbeams of hope in gloom and obscurity.
"The summer had set in with intense heat, and much sickness prevailed in the neighbourhood. A slight cold I had taken was succeeded by typhus fever of the most malignant type. When the nature of my malady was made known to the household, all the leading members becoming alarmed for their own safety, left the house, and fled to the sea-side. Julia deserted me without venturing to bid me farewell. Even my brother, who was on a visit with Lady Dorothy, abandoned me, as all supposed, on my death-bed, to the care of hirelings, who were indifferent about me, and more anxious that I should die than live, as in the former case, it would remove from them the sense of danger and responsibility.
"Oh, Dorothy, selfish and worldly as I had been, unguided by the holy precepts of religion, I hardly think that I could have deserted any one so near and dear to me as a betrothed wife and an only brother in such sore extremity. I was anxious to keep Julia and Francis out of danger, but their selfish conduct went home to my heart. I thought about it continually, and raved about their cruelty during the hours when fever and delirium were in the ascendant.
"One friend, however, remained constant to me in the hour of need, never deserting his post by my bed-side, a most tender and self-constituted nurse. He was the son of a small yeoman, who for the sake of good wages, with which he helped to maintain his widowed mother and her family, had undertaken the care of my horses, of which I possessed several splendid animals, being a keen sportsman.
"Charles Harley had formed a strong attachment to me, though I often laughed at him for his pious propensities. The young fellow, however, was so conscientious in the discharge of his duty, that he had won my respect, and, for his humble opportunities, was a man of superior endowments, possessing a fine intellect and strong good sense. In my rational mood he took great delight in reading the Scriptures to me. The monotony of his voice wearied me. I was so much indebted to him for his kind attention to me in my helpless state, that I did not like to wound his feelings by telling him to desist, that I wanted faith to believe in his dogmas, but I considered them a great bore, often pursuing my own train of thought without listening to him.
"The first night that the fever took a favourable turn, and my burning eyelids at last closed to sleep, I had an awful dream, or inspiration, I will call it, to rouse me from a state of careless indifference to the future, and set before me the urgent necessity of self-examination and repentance.
"I thought I was travelling with a gay and joyous set of companions, fellows to whom I was well-known, through a beautiful and highly cultivated country. My father and brother and my affianced bride formed part of the pleasure-seeking crowd. Some were on horseback, some on foot, and some in splendid carriages, but all intent on one object, and evidently bound to the same place.
"As I journeyed onward, somewhat behind the rest, there gradually rose before me in the east, the walls of a magnificent city, sloping back from the banks of a wide deep stream, in the depths of whose clear pellucid waters, towers and spires and majestic trees were reflected in golden splendour, the very sight of which created in me an intense desire, and impelled me forward to reach the height on which it stood.
"While feasting my eyes upon the novel spectacle, so different from anything I had ever before seen, a sudden halt took place in the foremost ranks of our jovial company, when noisy shouts and acclamations were changed into groans and shrieks and melancholy wailings.
"I hurried forward to ascertain the cause of the delay, and learn the reason of such frantic lamentations.
"It was then that I first discovered that, between us and the shining river that flowed beneath the walls of the golden city, extended a fearful gulf, of unknown depth, and shrouded in utter darkness, which completely intersected the country, precluding the possibility of any advance in that direction.
"From the yawning jaws of this frightful abyss, a lurid mist continually floated up, hiding the celestial city from my view. Into this hideous chasm, as if driven by an irresistible impulse or dire necessity, the crowd, so lately full of noisy merriment, slowly and surely disappeared. Some made desperate efforts to escape, and clung to the rocks and bushes, and called upon their comrades to save them from destruction; others plunged sullenly into the awful gulf, with stoical indifference to their fate, without asking assistance from their companions in misery, or uttering one prayer for mercy.
"I watched them one after another disappear, till my mind was overwhelmed with horror—till my hair stiffened on my head, and my limbs were paralyzed with fear.
"I could not utter a sound, or make an effort to escape from a doom which appeared inevitable. But my soul sent up a cry through that dense darkness, which reached, though unspoken, to the throne of the great Judge—'Save me, Lord, for I perish!'
"A flash of vivid lightning dispelled for a moment the black horrors of the scene, and revealed to me a cross towering above the dreadful abyss, and planted upon a rock, and one bound thereon like unto the Son of Man, pale, bleeding, and dewed with the death-agony, and written above his head, in characters of light, which revealed all the ghastly horrors of that dismal scene, I read these words: 'Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.'
"That light pierced my soul like a two-edged sword, and pointed out the only way by which I could escape. I sprang forward. I toiled on hands and knees up the steep acclivity, and sank down gasping at the foot of the cross, embracing it with desperate energy in my arms.
"I awoke bedewed with a cold perspiration, and trembling in every limb.
"'Thank God, it is but a dream!' I cried, as I felt the clasp of Harley's hand, who had heard me scream in my sleep, and had hurried to my assistance. But such a dream—oh, such a frightful dream! So terrible—so real—it looked like truth.
"He gave me a composing draught, and, after a while, begged me to tell him what had frightened me so much in my sleep.
"I was ashamed to tell him my dream, for fear he should think me a coward for quailing before a mere vision of the night. But it haunted me continually. Waking or sleeping it was ever present to my mind. I still imagined myself standing upon the brink of that dreadful precipice—still heard the cries of my lost companions ringing in my ears, as the cloud received them in its sable folds, and the yawning gulf swallowed them up for ever.
"I no longer turned a deaf ear to Harley's prayers, or listened with indifference while he read to me the Word of Life. My heart responded to every petition, and I listened with intense interest to his simple exposition of passages of Holy Writ. My heart was now opened to conviction, and hungered and thirsted for a knowledge of divine truth with desperate eagerness. A horrible consciousness of guilt pressed so heavily upon my mind that it is a wonder my brain did not yield to the mental pressure.
"After a long struggle with pride, I revealed to Harley the state of my mind, and with many tears besought his advice and assistance. With what joy he embraced me, and mingled his tears with mine, and assured me that I was in the right path, that no man without repentance could ever hope to see God. That my dream was a solemn warning sent by Him, to show me the danger of delay, and called upon me to abandon my wicked courses, and lay down the burthen of my sins at the foot of the cross. He besought me, in the most eloquent language, not to neglect the heavenly vision, lest I should share the fate of those I had seen in my dream.
"I was still too weak to leave my bed or read for myself, and I fear I taxed the poor fellow's strength too much, in making him read to me for hours at a time. And then I prayed.
"Oh, Dorothy, have you ever experienced the mingled joy and agony of earnest, heartfelt prayer. When shocked at the cold indifference of your own heart, you have bowed your head in the dust as one bereft of all hope; when a sudden gleam of light has shot into your soul, revealing glimpses of heaven, and filling your mind with contentment and holy peace. Such a happy moment came for me at last, which repaid me a thousand fold for all my past sufferings, and the image of Christ was formed in my soul the hope of glory. I awoke to a new life—awoke to rejoice in Him for evermore, and cheerfully took up the cross to follow Him, and suffer—if called upon to do so—gladly for His sake.
"The first trial that awaited me after my recovery was the death of my dear friend, Harley, who took the fever from which a merciful God had suffered me to escape. I nursed him with the same devotion he had shown to me, and it was in my arms he passed from earth to heaven.
"If anything had been wanting to confirm my faith, and strengthen the resolution I had formed, of devoting myself to the Master's service, Harley's death-bed would have done it. His faith in Jesus was so perfect, his victory over the last enemy so triumphant, that it left no room for cavil or doubt.
"When my friends heard of my intention of leaving the army, and studying for the church, they pronounced me mad; and it was publicly reported through the country that I had lost my senses during the fever. My conversion was a standing joke among my gay companions, and my brother was never tired of quizzing me about it, and making it the subject of ribald jests. This was hard enough to bear; but when Julia Curzon whom I loved so truly, joined with the rest in ridiculing my absurd fanaticism, as she was pleased to call it, and declared that if I persisted in such folly she never would become my wife, I was sorely tempted to step back into the old path, and resign for her sake my new-born hopes of heaven. Fortunately for me I was saved from such wickedness by the young lady herself, who ran off with a rich country squire, with whom she had been flirting desperately at the sea-side during my illness.
"This ended my romance of life. I felt heartily ashamed of myself for having loved such a worldly-minded woman. My love for her was sincere, but I had no other basis to support it than mere beauty, and a certain amount of fashionable accomplishments. My castle was built upon the sands, and the foundations yielded readily to the first shock, and when it fell, though humbled and mortified, I regained my freedom. After this disappointment, I returned to college to redeem the time I had wasted there in the days of my reckless youth, and to study diligently for my profession. It was more than two years before I was satisfied with the sincerity of my belief, and my fitness for so sacred a calling, when I gladly accepted from Lord Wilton the parishes of Hadstone and Storby as Vicar under him.
"And now, little wife, you are acquainted with the leading points of my history, and nothing more remains to be told, so let us up and be walking home-wards, or we shall be too late for the school examination this evening."
Kissing the small hand that insinuated itself into his own, he lifted her from her lowly seat, and they returned to the parsonage in time for tea.