58

LETTER VIII.

ANSWER TO THE PRECEDING.

Oct. 28, 18-2.

IF long, dear friend, in writing, think me not
Remiss in feeling for you. I have wept

More tears upon your letter than I thought
I yet had left to weep. It came upon

The moment of my going up to dress

For one of Colonel Ford's most charming dinners ;

And much I fear that they have taken offence

At my unlooked-for absence, unexcused

By message then or more than message since.
But how could I perforce enjoy myself

In presence of your sad and shocking news?
I stayed at home, and had for company
My Bible and your letter.

Yes, dear friend,

That was my first thought; 'Let me go,' I said

'As Hezekiah did, and spread it forth

Before the Lord;' till then I could not dare

To frame my own opinion, nor even now,
Upon so grave a matter; what I say

Is not my own, though mine agrees with it.
For, after consultation with myself,

Guided, I doubt not, in reply to prayer,

I came to this conclusion; 'Lay the case,

'The names of course concealed, before some

mind

'Of strength to comprehend it.' So next day

I wrote to the Archdeacon, asking him

If he would call. (I did this rather, dear,

Because of Mrs. Hunter; no one goes

Into that house but she finds out ere night

The utmost tittle of their business;

And then her tongue!) Well, in the kindest way

He called that afternoon, and heard, concerned,

Your story as I gave it. I forbore

To read him out the letter you enclosed;

I thought it might so shock him, and besides
I gave him all the facts. He was most kind;
Said that it grieved him greatly, and desired,
Next time he came, his sympathy to you,
As being my friend, beneath so sore a trial.
I say next time he came, for he declined
To give his judgment quickly; such a case,
He said, required the utmost carefulness

In dealing with it, lest, being too severe,

The bad grew worse; for we are taught,' he said,

Again on Tuesday, kinder than before;

Shortly, I give his judgment, which is mine.

First, he admitted that the case was one
Which was not roughly to be generalised

With common sins; he thought he went within
The boundary of God's teaching when he said

That for your daughter, grievously deceived,
And influenced by a villain's sly pretence,
(For other name he said he could not give
To him she calls her husband, nor can I;)
There well may be some place of penitence,
If not in this world, haply in the next.
(At least I think he said so; though to me
Nothing seems clearer in the Word of God
Than the unchanging nature of that doom
Which waits for sinners.) This point he allowed ;
But then God's ordinance must not be mocked.

Doubtless much suffering has been spared to you
By this part of their conduct,-calling that

A marriage which was none'; but then, dear friend,

(I cannot but admire the faithfulness

Of the Archdeacon to his duty here,)

Should pain be lessened by increase of sin?
And is not each day that your daughter lives,
As now, beneath the shelter of a name

Which is the Church's special right to give,

An insult to God's ordinance? Is not

A greater sin, perhaps, committed here,
And in continuance, than the disregard

Of the world's social order? (This I quote

From notes which the Archdeacon left with me
To help my memory.) For, he goes on,

God sees our weakness, will not judge our slips
As if he knew not of that feebleness,

But will most promptly visit upon men

Deceit that backs up sinning. Thus it was

That death to Ananias and his wife

Came, not by reason of their love of wealth,

But for the lie they uttered to appear

Clean from the former fault. So oft, he says,

The after sin is greater than the first,

That God would seem thereby to make more clear

The value of an early penitence.

And what does he advise? Well, here he seemed

In some uncertainty. He said his part