CHAPTER XXXI
FAREWELL!
Thomas À Kempis was right in saying that next morning would be a sad one—not on account of previous merriment; but, as I drove home alone, the separation from Father Letheby affected me keenly. He had, to use a homely phrase, grown into my heart. Analyzing my own feelings, as I jogged along the country road, I found that it was not his attractive and polished manners, nor his splendid abilities, nor his sociability that had impressed me, but his open, manly character, forever bending to the weak, and scorning everything dishonorable. It was quite true that he "wore the white flower of a blameless life"; but that is expected and found in every priest; it was something else,—his manliness, his truth, that made him
"—my own ideal knight,
Who reverenced his conscience as his king,
Whose glory was redressing human wrongs;
Who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it.
... We have lost him; he is gone;
We know him now; all narrow jealousies
Are silent; and we see him as he moved,
How modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise,
With what sublime repression of himself,
And in what limits, and how tenderly!"
My poor boy! my poor boy! I thought he would be over me in my last hour to hear my last confession, and place the sacred oils on my old limbs, and compose me decently for my grave; but it was not to be. Vale, vale, longum vale!
There was a letter from the bishop, and a large brown parcel before me when I reached my home. I opened the letter first. It ran thus:—
My dear Father Dan:—The prebendary stall, vacated by the death of the late Canon Jones, I now have much pleasure in offering for your acceptance. I suppose, if the το πρεπον always had force in this world, you would have been canon for the last twenty or thirty years; but at least it is my privilege now to make compensation; and I sincerely hope I may have the benefit of your wise counsel in the meetings of the Cathedral Chapter. It will also give you a chance of seeing sometimes your young friend, whom I have so suddenly removed; and this will weigh with you in accepting an honor which, if it has come tardily, may it be your privilege to wear for many years
I am, my dear Father Dan,
Yours in Christ,
——