The general considered whether he should call on Mr Lerew; but he first bethought himself of paying a visit to a lawyer in the neighbouring town, with whom he was well acquainted, and who had been a friend of Captain Maynard’s. He was also an earnest religious man, and strongly opposed to ritualism. The general was not a person to let the grass grow under his feet. He was driving rapidly along, when he met Lieutenant Sims, who made a sign to him to stop. The general did so, and invited the lieutenant to accompany him into the town.
“With all my heart, for I want to have a talk with you, general,” answered the lieutenant, springing in. “I have long been wishing for your return. We’ve had some extraordinary goings on in this place. What has concerned me most is the disappearance of my old friend’s daughter, in whom you, I know, take a deep interest. All I know is that she went away with the vicar and his wife, and it is my belief that they had an object in spiriting her off; but whether to shut her up in a Romish or Ritualist convent is more than I can say. I don’t think there is much to choose between them; the vicar might select the Ritualist, or the Anglican, as he would call it, as he, though a Papist at heart, would prefer keeping his living, while his lady would recommend the former; for it is said, and I believe it to be a fact, that she herself has turned Romanist, with her dear friend Lady Bygrave. Haven’t you heard that both Sir Reginald and her ladyship were received last week into the bosom of the Church of Rome, as the expression runs?”
“Is it possible!” exclaimed the general; “but I ought not to be surprised when I saw the characters they admitted into their house. I thought that French abbé and Father Lascelles had some other object in view than the establishment of a colony; but perhaps you have been misinformed.”
“I tell you, general, I haven’t a doubt about the matter,” answered Mr Sims. “They and Mrs Lerew attended the Romish church together, and I am told had been baptised with all ceremony a few days before. I know that two or three priests have been staying at the Hall ever since, and Mrs Lerew goes there regularly. They are about to have a chapel built in their grounds, and an architect came down from London about it; and in the meantime they have got a room fitted up in the house. What surprises me is that the vicar should allow his wife to turn; but that she has done so seems probable, for she was not at church last Sunday. Should Lerew object to his wife’s perversion, he has only himself to thank for it; he has led her up to the door as carefully as a man could do, and cannot be surprised at her going inside. Of course she thinks it safer to join what she has been taught to look upon as the true church, and has therefore honestly gone over to it; while whatever he may think, putting honesty and honour aside, he considers that it is more to his advantage to retain his living, and lead others in the way he has led his wife.”
“I suspect that you are right,” observed the general; “too many have set him the example. He, like them, has been trained in the school of the Jesuits, who are fully persuaded that evil may be done that good may come of it, and banish from their minds the principles which guide honest men, and which they themselves would advocate in the ordinary affairs of life. I can only wish that, unless Mr Lerew’s mind is enlightened, he would go over himself; as I am afraid, while he remains in the Church of England, he may lead others in the same direction.”
“Not much fear of that,” observed the lieutenant; “except a few silly young people of the better classes, and the poor, who look out for the loaves and fishes in the shape of coals and blankets and other creature comforts, I don’t think many are influenced by him. He is more likely to empty his church, and to fill the Dissenting chapels.”
“Still,” said the general, “he sows broadcast the germs of Romanism through the doctrines he preaches, while he accustoms people to the sight of the ceremonies and paraphernalia of Rome, keeping them in ignorance at the same time of the simple truths of the Gospel, at the bidding of those whose commands he obeys; for he and his ritualistic brethren are but instruments in the hands of more cunning men than themselves. I have little doubt that he was carefully educated at the university for the part he is now playing, though he then had no idea of the designs of his tutor. People laugh at the notion that a Jesuit plot has long existed in England for the subversion of Protestantism; but I have evidence, which receives daily corroboration, that Jesuits in disguise matriculated at the universities for the express purpose of perverting the minds of all whom they could bring under their influence. The pupils in numberless instances went over to Rome, while the tutors remained nominally in the Church of England, for the sake of trapping others. The scheme has succeeded, and has since been greatly enlarged; the Jesuits have now agents in every shape—some as incumbents of parishes, as lay supporters, men and women, guilds and sisterhoods; they have encouraged works of charity, schools, hospitals, refuges for the fallen and destitute, crèches, mothers’ meetings, and other institutions, all excellent in themselves, knowing how much such would forward their object. Of that object, those who take part in them are, I am ready to believe, in many instances utterly ignorant; they are influenced by the desire to obey the commands of Christ, and to make themselves useful to their fellow-creatures, though the idea that they are thereby meriting heaven, and what they call working out their own salvation, underlies all they do, as they misinterpret the passage. They ignore the glorious truth that through simple faith in the atoning blood of Christ salvation is gained—that it is their own, and that the right motive of action must be through love and obedience to Him who has already saved them. All the forms and ceremonies in which they indulge are but will-worship, tending to obscure their view of Him, and to destroy their spiritual life.”
“General,” said the lieutenant, “I have seen a good deal of Roman Catholic countries, where the priests have full sway, and I am very sure that the system these Ritualists have introduced is tending in the same direction. I know from experience that true religion makes a man all that can be expected of him. We had a dozen or more such men on board the last ship in which I served, and they were out and out the best men we had; they could be trusted on all occasions; and if any dangerous work had to be done, they were the first to volunteer. They were Dissenters of some sort, I believe, and were not in favour with our ritualistic chaplain, who had his followers both among officers and men. I can’t say much about those officers, and as to the men who pretended to agree with him, they were the most sneaking rascals in the ship. He tried to bring me over to his way of thinking, but my eyes were opened. ‘No, no,’ I answered; ‘if the ship was going down, and you had to take your chance in one of the boats, which would you choose, the one manned by those fellows you anathematise, or with the men you call obedient sons of the Church?’ He couldn’t answer; but one day, he being left on shore, the heretics, as he called them, brought him off through a heavy surf, when no other men would venture. So you see, thanks to our chaplain, when I found the new vicar working changes in the church, I knew pretty well what he was about.”
The general found Mr Franklin, his solicitor, at home.
“I am very glad you have come, general,” said the latter. “Miss Maynard, as you are probably aware, has been induced to leave home, or, rather, has been entrapped by one of those conventual establishments, to which she will in due course, when she has the power, be persuaded to give up her property. Our business must be to get her out of their hands before that time arrives; and yours, general, more especially to point out to her the errors of the system which has thrown its glamour over her; for, if I understand rightly, she has sacrificed an excellent and satisfactory marriage, as well as the independence and comforts of home. It was not for a considerable time that I discovered her absence from Luton, when her aunt (who, no disrespect to the lady, I consider it a misfortune was left one of her guardians) positively declared that she did not know where she had gone. I, however, took steps to find out, and lately ascertained that she is an inmate of Saint Barbara’s, near Staughton, to which place I discovered that she drove on leaving the railway, in company with Mr and Mrs Lerew. Convinced that Miss Pemberton was not likely to render any willing assistance, I awaited your return to take legal measures to obtain her release. Our first difficulty will be to communicate with her, for the nuns are allowed to receive no letters till they are first seen by the Lady Superior. It would be as well first to ascertain whether the young lady desires of her own free will to leave the convent; she has had some experience of it, and may by this time perhaps have repented of the step she has taken. My belief is that she has been deceived and cajoled. I know well of what those Ritualists are capable, influenced by what they believe the best of motives, and I strongly suspect that there is some misunderstanding between her and your son, brought about, I say without hesitation, by their means. Either her letters have not been forwarded to him, or his have not been received by her—perhaps the entire correspondence has been intercepted—I will not go farther than that. I say this as I wish to plead for your ward, at whose conduct you naturally feel deeply grieved.”