"HOW do you like our new preacher?" was asked by one member ofanother, as they walked home from church.
"Only so so," was replied.
"He cuts close," remarked the first speaker.
"Yes, a little too close."
"I don't know about that. I like to see the truth brought home tothe heart and conscience."
"So do I. But I object to personality."
"Personality!"
"Yes; I object to personality."
So does every one. Was Mr. C--personal?"
"I think so."
"That's hardly possible. He only arrived last week, and has not yethad time to become familiar with facts in the life of any one here.Moreover, a personal allusion in a first sermon, by a stranger, issomething so out of place and indelicate, that I cannot for a momentbelieve that your inference is correct."
"While I have the best of reasons for believing that I complain ofhim justly. He's been long enough here to visit a certain family,fond of tittle-tattle, that I could name."
"The Harrisons?"
"Yes."
"I hope you are mistaken."
"No; I am not mistaken. C--was personal, and distinctly so. Andthe Harrisons are at the bottom of the matter. To say the least, hehas acted in very bad taste. Charity should have prompted him towait until he could have heard both sides of the story."
"I agree with you, fully, if your allegation be correct. But I musthope that you are in error."
"No. I have the best of reasons for what I allege."
"To whom did the personality apply?"
"To myself, if the truth must be spoken."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes--to myself."
"That places the matter in rather a serious light, Mr. Grant."
"It does. And I think I have reason to complain."
"You ought to be certain about this matter."
"I'm certain enough. When a man treads on your toe, you are likelyto know it."
'It is barely possible that Mr. C--did not intend to designateyou, or any one, in what he said."
"He must have meant me," replied Mr. Grant, with emphasis. "Hecouldn't have said what he did, unless he had been informed ofcertain things that have happened in this town. Had he not visitedthe Harrisons, I might have doubted. But that fact places the thingbeyond a question."
"In what did the personality consist?"
"Did you not observe it?"
"No."
"Indeed!"
"I perceived no allusion to any one."
"There are plenty of others, no doubt, who did. I don't care tospeak of it just now. But you'll hear about it. I noticed three orfour turn and look at me while he was speaking. It will be apleasant piece of gossip; but if Mr. C--doesn't take care, I'llmake this place too hot to hold him. I'm not the one to be set up asa target for any whipper-snapper to fire at."
"Don't get excited, friend Grant. Wait awhile. I still think thereis some mistake."
"I beg your pardon; there is no mistake about it. He meant me. Don'tI know? Can't I tell when a man points his finger at me in a publicassembly?"
In his opinion, Mr. Grant was still further confirmed, ere hereached his home, by the peculiar way in which sundry members of thecongregation looked at him. Of course, he was considerably disturbedon the subject; and felt a reasonable share of indignation. In theevening, he declined attending worship as an indication of hisfeelings on the subject; and he doubted not that the new preacherwould note his absence and understand the cause.
About a year prior to this time, Mr. Grant, who was a manufacturingjeweller, was called upon by a gentleman, who desired him to make asolid gold wedding-ring. It was to be of the finest quality thatcould be worked, and to be unusually heavy. When the price wasmentioned, the gentleman objected to it as high.
"Your neighbour, over the way," said the gentleman, "will make itfor a dollar less than you ask."
"Not of solid gold," replied Mr. Grant.
"Oh, yes. I would have no other."
Mr. Grant knew that the ring could not be made of fine, solid gold,for the price his neighbour had agreed to take. And he knew, also,that in manufacturing it, his neighbour, if he took the order, wouldfill up the centre of the ring with solder--a common practice. Onthe spur of the moment, he determined to do the same thing, andtherefore replied--
"Well, I suppose I must work as low as he does."
"The ring must be of solid gold, remember. I will have no other."
"That's understood, of course," replied the jeweller; adding tohimself, "as solid as any one makes them."
The ring was manufactured at a reasonable profit, and the man gotthe full worth of his money; but not of solid gold. Silver soldercomposed the centre. But as the baser metal could not be detected bysimple inspection or weighing, Mr. Grant felt secure in the cheat hehad practised; and, quieted his conscience by assuming that he hadgiven a full equivalent for the money received.
"He's just as well off as he would have been if he had gone to myneighbour over the way, as he called him," said he to himself, inthe effort to quiet certain unpleasant sensations. "To suppose thathe was going to get a solid ring at such a price! Does he think wejewellers steal our gold? Men will be humbugged, and there is nohelp for it."
Yet, for all this, Mr. Grant could not cast out the unpleasantfeeling. He had done a thing so clearly wrong, that no attempt atself-justification gave his mind its former calmness.
"The ring is solid gold?" said the man, when he came for it.
"That was the contract," replied Mr. Grant, with a half-offendedair, at the intimation conveyed in the tone of voice, that all mightnot be as agreed upon.
"Excuse me," remarked the man, apologetically; "but I am veryparticular about this matter, and would throw the ring into thestreet rather than use it, if not of solid gold."
"Gold rings are not given away," muttered Grant to himself, as theman left the shop.
Some days after this transaction, a man named Harrison, who belongedto the church of which Grant was a member, met him, when this littleconversation took place.
"I sent you a customer last week," said Mr. Harrison.
Ah! I'm very much obliged to you."
"A gentleman who wanted a gold ring. He asked me to give him thename of a jeweller upon whom he could depend. The ring, he said,must be solid, for a particular reason; and, as he was a stranger,he did not know who was to be trusted. I told him I would guarantyyou for an honest man. That if you undertook to manufacture anyarticle for him, he might rely upon its being done according toagreement."
While Harrison was uttering this undeserved compliment, it was withthe utmost difficulty that Mr. Grant. could keep the tell-tale bloodfrom rushing to his face.
"He showed me the ring," continued Mr. Harrison. "It is a veryhandsome one."
"Was he satisfied with it?" asked Mr. Grant.
"Not fully."
"Why so?"
"He was afraid it might not be solid. In fact, so anxious was he onthis point, that he took the ring to your neighbour, over the way,to get his opinion about it."
As Mr. Harrison said this, Grant was conscious that a betrayal ofthe truth was on his countenance.
"And, of course, Martin said the ring was not solid."
"No, he did not exactly say that. I went with the gentleman, at hisrequest. Martin weighed the ring, and, after doing so, simply statedthat gold of the quality of which the ring was made was worth acertain price per pennyweight. By multiplying the number ofpennyweights contained in the ring with the price mentioned, heshowed that you either lost one dollar on the ring, or filled thecentre with some baser metal."
"Well?" The blood had, by this time, risen to the very brow of thejeweller.
"'Cut the ring,' said my friend. It was done, and, to mymortification and astonishment, it proved to be even as he had said.The ring was not solid!"
For some moments, Mr. Grant hung his head in painful confusion.Then, looking up, he said--
"It was his own fault."
"How so?" was inquired.
"He would not pay the price for a solid ring, and I could not givehim my work for nothing."
"Did you ask him a fair price?"
"Yes; and he answered, that my neighbour over the way had offered tomake him a solid ring, for just one dollar less. I knew exactly whatkind of a ring Martin could and would furnish for that money, andmade him one just like it. I gave him his money's worth, and alittle over. He was not cheated."
"But he was deceived. How you could have done such a thing, brotherGrant, is more than I can understand."
"I had to do it in self-defence; and this very Martin, who has beenso ready to expose the little deception, made the act necessary."
"I'm sorry you should have done so. It was wrong," said Mr.Harrison.
"I'm ready to acknowledge that. But it's too late, now, to repairthe error. I wish I'd had nothing to do with the matter."
"So do I," remarked Harrison.
This fretted the mind of Grant, and he replied, rather impatiently--
"Hereafter, I hope you'll send all customers of this kind to Martin.Dear knows, I don't want them!"
"I shall certainly be careful in this matter," coldly repliedHarrison, and bowing formally, as he spoke, turned away, and leftGrant in no very pleasant frame of mind. From that time there was acoldness between the two church members.
When Grant went to church on the next Sabbath, he noticed, as heapproached the meeting-house door, Harrison standing in closeconversation with one or two prominent members. As he approached,they looked toward him in a certain way that he did not like, andthen, separating, entered the house before he came up. It was tooevident that Harrison had been communicating the incident of thering. But Grant was not surprised; he had expected nothing less.Still, he felt that his brother member had not done towards him inthe matter as he would have liked himself done by. On entering thechurch, half a dozen persons turned and looked at him earnestly;while two or three whispered together, glancing towards him everynow and then, and thus showing that he was the subject ofconversation. As to the theme of discourse between them, his mindwas in no doubt. The gold ring! Yes, that was it.
But little edified by the sermon was Mr. Grant on that morning; and,when the services were ended, he went quickly from the church, andtook his way homeward without stopping, as on former occasions, toshake hands and pass a few words with friends and brethren.
It had been the custom of several leading members of the church todrop in occasionally, during the week, and chat with Grant for tenminutes or half an hour. But the time from Sunday to Sunday waspassed without a single call from any one of them. The reason forthis was no mystery to the jeweller's mind.
"I don't see that I've been guilty of such a terrible crime," saidhe to himself, feeling a little indignant on the subject. "The mangot his money's worth; and, moreover, was served perfectly right.Did he suppose that he was going to get fine gold for the price ofsolder? If so, he found himself mistaken. As for Harrison, he's madehimself remarkably busy about the matter. I would not trust him in asimilar case. But it is so pleasant to discourse on evil in ourneighbour. So very pleasant! The good he does is left to find itsown way to the light as best it can; but let him commit a mistake ormake a single false step, and it is preached from house-top."
When Grant and Harrison met, there was a mutual reserve andcoldness.
"He is conscious, I am aware, of his wrong dealing," said the latterto himself, "and therefore shuns me."
"He is aware that he has tried to injure me," said the former, "andcannot, therefore, meet me as of old."
Two or three weeks passed before the friends who used to drop in tosee him almost every day showed themselves in his shop, and thenthere was a too evident change of manner. They appeared distant andreserved, and he met them with a like exterior. His pride wastouched.
"Just as they like," he said to himself. "I can get on without them.I presume, if all our hearts were laid open, mine would be foundquite as good as theirs. As for Perkins and Marvel, they needn't setthemselves up over me. I think I know them. Men who cut as close asthey do in dealing, generally cut a little from the side thatdoesn't belong to them."
Perkins and Marvel, here alluded to, had long been on friendly termswith Mr. Grant--visiting at his shop--for the purpose of a littlefriendly chit-chat--every few days. But a coldness now took place,and, in a few weeks, they ceased their friendly calls.
In various other ways was Mr. Grant conscious of a reaction uponhimself of his improper conduct. Hundreds of times did he mentallyregret the weakness and love of gain which had prompted him to sofar lose sight of what was just and honourable as to deceive acustomer. So painful was his sense of mortification, that, for atime, he omitted to attend church on Sunday. Not only was hesatisfied that every one in the congregation knew about the ring,but he could clearly perceive a change in the manner of his mostintimate acquaintances who were members of the church.
Grant was not a man entirely sold to selfishness. He was not adeliberate wrong-doer, hiding his evil purposes and acts under ahypocritical exterior. He had conscience, and, at times, its voicewas loud and distinct. He was, therefore, troubled about the ring asa fact indicating the state of his affections; as well as troubledabout the condemnatory judgment of his brethren. There werefluctuations of state, of course, as there are with all of us.Sometimes he was in a state of humiliation on account of the evil hehad done, and sometimes in a state of indignation at Harrison forhaving, been so eager to publish his fault from the house-top.
Gradually, however, the ever-recurring new purposes and interestswhich come to all in passing through life, threw the past with itsinfluences into the shade, and the returns of states ofmortification on account of the ring were less and less frequent.Mr. Grant resumed his attendance at church, and mingled, as of old,with his brethren; though in a rather more subdued and lessconfident spirit. That affair of the ring could not be entirelyforgotten.
In due course of time, the minister on the station had to leave, anda new one was appointed by the conference to take his place. TheRev. Mr. C--arrived early in the week, and during the period thatelapsed between that and the Sabbath, visited a good deal among thebrethren. During that time, an evening was spent at Mr. Harrison's,but no one brought him around to introduce him to Mr. Grant. Thejeweller felt this, and in his mind, in searching about for reasons,rested, very naturally, upon the affair of the gold ring, and he didnot doubt but the occurrence had been fully related to Mr. C--.
Under this feeling, Mr. Grant went to church. His first sight of thenew preacher was when he arose in the pulpit to give out the hymn.His countenance did not make a very favourable impression, but hisvoice, when he commenced reading the hymn, had a tone and amodulation that were pleasing. The subject of the discourse whichfollowed was practical, and had reference to a man's conduct towardshis fellow-man in the common affairs of life. From generalpropositions, the minister, after entering upon his sermon, camedown to things particular. He dwelt upon the love of dominion sodeeply rooted in the human heart, and showed, in various ways, howit was exercised by individuals in all the grades of common society.
"A more deeply-rooted evil than this," he went on to say, "is theft.We all inherit, in a greater or less degree, the desire to possessour neighbour's goods; and, with the earliest development of themind, comes the activity of that desire. It is seen in the childwhen he appropriates the plaything of another child, and in theso-called good and honest citizen when, in bargaining, he secures anadvantage at the expense of his brother."
Descending, gradually, to the introduction of particular forms ofoverreaching as practised in trade, all of which Mr. C--designatedas instances of theft, he finally brought forward an instance sonearly resembling the one in which Mr. Grant had been engaged, thatthe latter felt himself, as has been seen, particularly pointed out,and left the church at the close of the service in a state ofexcitement and indignation. To have that old matter, about which hehad already suffered enough, "raked over," as he said, "and exposedto light again," was a little more than he was disposed to submit towith patience. As has been seen, he did not conceal what was in hismind.
On Monday, a brother-member of the church dropped in to see thejeweller.
"How did you like Mr. C--?" was the natural inquiry.
"Not at all," replied Mr. Grant, in a positive tone.
"You didn't? Why, I was delighted with him! What is your objection?"
"He was personal in his discourse."
"I perceived nothing personal."
"Though I did, and of the grossest kind."
"How was it possible for a stranger like Mr. C--to be personal? Heknows nothing of the characters or conduct of individuals here."
"Strangers generally have quick ears, and there are always plenty ofnews-venders to fill them. He's been with the Harrisons, and we allknow what they are."
"To whom did he refer?" was asked.
"He referred to me."
"To you?"
"Certainly he did. And I don't like it at all. That's not the way topreach the gospel. This running off with one side of a story, and,taking all for granted, holding a man up to public odium, is not, asI conceive, following in the footsteps of our Great Master."
"I'm sorry you should have taken up such an impression," was repliedto this. "I cannot believe that Mr. C--really intended to hold youup to public odium. He couldn't have meant to designate you."
"He must have meant me. Don't I know?"
So another and another objection was made to Mr. C--on the sameground; and before the week was out, it was pretty widely known thatthe new preacher had indulged in reprehensible personalities. Somesaid this was an error in the preacher; others, that he was highlyblamable; while others affirmed that there must be some mistakeabout the matter.
On the following Sunday, Mr. Grant was absent from his usual placein the church. It would do him no good to sit under the ministry ofMr. C--.
During the week that followed, two of the official members calledupon the jeweller to make inquiries about the alleged personalities.Grant was, by this time, pretty sore on the subject, and whenallusion was made to it, he gave his opinion of the preacher in novery choice language.
"In what did this personality consist?" asked one of the visitors.
"It's hardly necessary to ask that question," replied Grant.
"It is for me. No one, whom I have yet seen, has been able to giveme any information on the subject."
"If you ask Mr. C--, he will enlighten you."
"I have already done so."
"You have?"
"Yes."
"What was his reply?"
"That he is innocent of the personality laid to his charge."
"Did you mention my name?"
"I did."
"Well?"
"He had not even heard of you as a member of the church here."
"I can hardly credit that, after what he said."
"You will, at least, give him the chance of vindication. He is nowat my house, and has expressed a wish to see you."
"I don't know that any good will grow out of seeing him," said Mr.Grant, who felt but little inclined to meet the preacher.
"I'm sorry to hear you say that, Mr. Grant. You have made acomplaint against Mr. C--, and when he wishes to confer with youon the subject, you decline, under the assumption that no good canarise from it. This is not right; and I hope you will think betterof it."
"Perhaps it isn't right; but so it is. At present, I do not wish tosee him. I may feel differently to-morrow."
"Shall we call upon-you in the morning?"
"If you please to do so."
"Very well."
And the two official members departed.
No sooner were they gone, than Mr. Grant put or his hat and left hisshop. He went direct to the store of Mr. Harrison.
"You are just the man I was thinking about," said the latter, as thejeweller entered. "What is all this trouble about you and Mr. C--?I hear some rumour of it at every turn."
"That is just what I have come to see you about."
"Very well; what can I do in the matter? Mr. C--, you allege, hasheld you up in the congregation to public odium?"
"I do."
"In what way?"
"Strange that you should ask the question."
"Why so? What have I to do with it?"
"A great deal," said Grant, his brows falling as he spoke.
"I must plead innocence until shown my guilt. So far, I have noteven been able to learn in what the allusion to yourself consisted."
"You have not?"
"No."
Grant stood, tightly compressing his lips, for some moments. He thensaid:
"You remember that affair of the gold ring?"
"Very well."
"You mentioned this to C--."
"No. Nor to a living soul since the occurrence of the fact."
"What?"
"Nothing on that subject has ever passed my lips. I believed thatyou saw and repented of your error, and in honour and in consciencerefrained from even the remotest allusion to the subject."
"How, then, did Mr. C--become cognisant of the fact?"
"If cognisant all, it was from another source than the one yousupposed."
"I never mentioned it. You were the only one to whom thecircumstance was communicated. How, then, could the matter havegotten abroad?"
"I don't believe a single member of the congregation ever heard ofit."
"Oh, yes, they have. These has been a marked change in the manner ofvery many towards me. So apparent was this at one time, that Iabsented myself from church, rather than encounter it."
"All your imagination, brother Grant, and nothing else. I believethat I mingle as freely with the congregation as any one, and I knowthat I never heard a breath against you. At present, every one is ata loss to know in what way Mr. C--pointed you out; he is equallyin the dark."
"I was sure he meant me. It was so plain," said Mr. Grant, hiscountenance falling, and his manner becoming subdued.
"There was nothing of the kind, you may depend upon it," replied Mr.Harrison.
"And you never spoke of it?"
"Never!"
"A guilty conscience, it is said, needs no accuser. The likeness to mewas so strong, that I really thought the picture was sketched frommyself as the original. Ah, me!"
"Had you not better call on Mr. C--?" asked Harrison.
"No, no. See him for me, if you please, and tell him that I amconvinced of my error in supposing he pointed me out in thecongregation. As to the particular allusion that I felt to beoffensive, I hope you will still keep your own counsel. I did wrong,under temptation, and have suffered and repented in consequence. Itcan do no good to bring the matter to light now."
"None at all. I will not speak of it."
Nor did he. Many and various were the suggestions and suppositionsof the congregation touching the nature of the preacher's personalallusion to the jeweller, and some dozen of little gossiping storiesgot into circulation; but the truth did not find its way to thelight. And not until the day on which he was leaving the station fora new field of labour, did the preacher himself understand thematter; and then he had it from Mr. Grant's own lips.
THE END.
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