Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No.690
'Grounds? Do not you think it is genuine?' she asked eagerly. 'Look at the dates – and names too.'
'Yes; I think – perhaps it may prove so. The signatures are in different handwritings: it certainly looks like a genuine document,' I said stupidly; 'but' —
'There must be no "buts!" Don't you see, dear slow darling that you are, this proves Papa to have been an honourable gentleman, and takes the shame of his wrong-doing from his child? Was not my shame greater than hers, if he had wronged her mother?'
I saw now. But I saw too that another thing of terrible import to herself had not occurred to her. After a few moments' reflection, I said: 'Will you wait here five minutes for me, Lilian? I must send off a letter I have written, to save the next post; but I will be back in five minutes.' I really had a letter to send – an order to a London tradesman, which the housekeeper wished to be attended to; but I should not have thought of it at that moment, had I not been seeking about in my mind for an excuse for leaving her a short time.
She looked not a little surprised; but replied: 'Of course I will wait, if you wish it, Mary.'
'Promise me, Lilian – promise me that you will not leave this room until I return?'
She gravely promised; and I hastened from the room and down-stairs, my pulse beating tumultuously. Hurriedly throwing the letter on to the hall table, I turned into the morning-room, where Marian Reed was practising a new song. I was so far fortunate as to find her too much occupied to notice my agitation, which must, I think, have been very evident in my face. I found it difficult enough to command my thoughts, much more the expression of my face. She did not notice my entrance into the room, and that gave me a few moments to gather courage and decide how I could best lead up to the subject I wanted to introduce. I could think of no better way than putting a direct question. Catching up a piece of Lilian's dainty embroidery, which lay in her work-basket, and putting in a few random stitches, in the hope that it might appear as if the idea had suddenly occurred to me whilst I sat working, I asked: 'I suppose you have no recollection of your mother, Miss Reed? Had she dark hair and eyes like your own – have you heard?'
'Ma? O yes; I recollect Ma perfectly well, Miss Haddon. Her eyes were just a shade lighter than' —
'Some people have such wonderful memories. I have heard of people recollecting things which occurred when they were quite babies,' I put in; trying to speak lightly, as I dragged the needle through and through, to the utter destruction of Lilian's delicate work.
'But I wasn't a baby when Ma died, you know.'
'About two years old, I suppose?'
'No; I was over five when Ma died, Miss Haddon.'
'You must be mistaken, I think. I recollect your aunt saying that you were quite young – almost a baby,' I returned, bringing the words out slowly and heavily.
'Well, five is almost a baby, isn't it?' – turning on the music-stool to look at me.
'But I think you must be mistaken in fancying you were as old as five. You could not have been much over two years and a half, or three – perhaps three,' I pleaded. If what I feared was true, was I not pleading for the good name of Lilian's mother?
'Well, I do think I ought to be allowed to know best about that, Miss Haddon. I am over twenty, and Ma has been dead fifteen years.' Then she added, with what was meant for satire: 'But if I can't be believed about it, there's the register of my birth and Ma's death to be found, I suppose; and it may not be all stories on her tombstone, which I must say Pa spared no expense about. It's in the churchyard at Highgate, where Ma was staying for change of air when she died, if you would like to go and see it.'
I folded the spoiled work carefully together, methodically replacing it in the basket, first square, then corner-wise, as I tried to gather up my scattered wits and prepare my face for Lilian's eyes again. Fortunately, Marian Reed flattered herself that she had for once succeeded in putting Mary Haddon down, and was in spirits accordingly, singing away at the top of her voice again.
I quitted the room, and slowly made my way to the green chamber, where Lilian was waiting for me.
'Well, Mary!' she ejaculated, turning a smiling happy face towards me as I entered; 'have you come to set your prisoner free, madam?'
'Yes,' I replied, stupidly gazing at her.
'What makes you look at me like that, Mary?'
'How do I look?' I replied, with an attempt at a smile.
But her fears were aroused. 'Is it anything about this?' she anxiously asked, looking down at the paper in her hand, and then into my face.
'I – I have been thinking the matter over, Lilian, and – I should like to ask some one's advice.'
'Some one's advice? – About this, dear?' turning it over in her hand, and then giving a wondering look at me.
'I mean as to its genuineness, Lilian.'
'I do not understand. These names are plain enough, and you thought just now' —
'Oh, any one might have written these names without the document being a binding one,' I said, catching at any hope. 'To be legal, it must have been signed in Scotland, you know; and there is no proof that it was.'
'But you hope – Mary, do not you hope that it is genuine?'
'I do not quite know what to hope, dearie,' I replied, with a would-be careless air.
In her utter unconsciousness of the cause of my uneasiness, she could not account for my want of sympathy, looking at me in some surprise. Then, after a few moments' silence, she said in a low grave voice: 'I know what to hope, Mary. I heartily hope that Marian's mother may have been righted.'
Not once did it occur to her that it might be at the expense of her own mother. How she would act when the whole truth broke upon her, remained to be seen. I could not tell her whilst there seemed a thread of hope to cling to; and I tried to persuade myself that my fears as to the genuineness of that paper might yet prove to have been groundless.
'I think the best plan will be for me to write to Mr Wentworth, and ask him to advise and assist us, Lilian. He will be able to ascertain whether this is a bonâ fide document, and represents a real marriage or not. And until that is done, I strongly advise you to say nothing about having found the paper.'
'Dear Mary, do you think there is so much necessity for secrecy about it?'
'I do indeed, Lilian.' Then, seeing that she still demurred (it seemed to her only natural and right at once to make known the discovery of the paper, be the consequences what they might), I added, diplomatically: 'I think it would be wiser not to raise Marian's hopes until you are quite sure they will not be disappointed. It is a case in which disappointment might be very terrible for her.'
'Yes; of course it would: I did not think of that. You are quite right, dear cautious old darling that you are; and I will obey you, though I do not myself fear disappointment.'
'Then it is understood that for the present it is to go no further; and I will at once write to Mr Wentworth, inclosing him a copy of this;' taking the paper from her reluctant fingers.
'You will be very careful of it, Mary? Recollect how much depends' —
'O yes; it will be safe enough,' I hurriedly replied, only anxious to make my escape before she could change her mind.
Once in my room, with that paper in my own possession, I very quickly had my nerves under command, and was ready for business, sitting down to write my letter with a clear head and firm hand:
'My dear Mr Wentworth – In looking through a cabinet of her father's, Lilian just now found the original of the paper which I have copied, and inclose. She sees in it only the vindication of Marian's mother, and rejoices accordingly. Unknown to Lilian, I have questioned Marian as to her age when her mother died. She insists that she was over five years old, and that her mother has been dead only fifteen years. If this be so, and this document is genuine, it is not Marian's mother who has been wronged; and the former will be righted at the expense of our Lilian. You and I know that right will be done, be the cost what it may to her. I need not say on which side my sympathies are. I have not much hope; but hasten to send the paper for your consideration, and beg you to act for her. Please go first to Marian's aunt, Mrs Pratt, Green Street, Islington; and make sure about the dates of Marian's birth and her mother's death before you take measures to prove the validity of the marriage. I do not apologise for asking this of you. To do our best for Lilian is a real privilege to you and me, and I know that it is not necessary to beg you to lose no time.'
A telegram was handed to me that night at tea-time – 'Robert Wentworth to Miss Haddon– Letter received, and I am at work.' I shewed it to Lilian, who returned it to me with a nod and smile.
Dear old Mrs Tipper looked somewhat surprised and Marian curious; but surprised and curious they had to remain. Meantime the suspense was terrible to me; I was so restless and unlike my ordinary self, that I could do nothing, even in the way of occupying only my fingers. In my discomfort I was impolitic enough to offend Marian Reed as I had not yet done. The very sight of her irritated me, and her imperfections seemed more glaring than ever. I think I should have grudged allowing her credit for having a single good quality. A very slight event brought my indignation to a climax.
'That is Lilian's box,' I sharply exclaimed, as she turned the key in a little Indian box on one of the tables, and was turning over the contents.
'I want some more of that purse-silk she gave me yesterday to finish this chain with,' she carelessly replied, as she continued her search roughly, or it seemed roughly to me in the frame of mind I was just then, turning over Lilian's dainty little belongings. I was rude enough to take the box from beneath her hands and lock it and take the key out. I am ashamed to say that I was even conscious of feeling some little gratification at arousing her anger.
'Well, I never! that's a polite thing to do!' she angrily ejaculated.
It was a very foolish thing to do; and on reflection, I knew that it was; but for a moment it was very pleasant, and I persuaded myself that it was almost necessary as a safety-valve to my spleen – to prevent a more decided exhibition of my feelings.
When presently Lilian entered the room, Marian inquired in an injured tone why she was not permitted to take a little more of the silk which had been so freely given yesterday.
Lilian looked surprised. 'There is not the slightest reason why you should not,' she replied, unconsciously taking the box up from where I had placed it, and begging Marian to help herself.
'Thank you, dear. I knew you would not be ill-natured,' said Marian, with a toss of the head and triumphant glance towards me, as she placed the box upon her lap and recommenced rummaging.
I was rightly punished for my little display of temper; although I was aware that Marian would not consider my punishment sufficient. It was an offence to be looked over for the time, but not forgotten as a thing forgiven. However, as Robert Wentworth affirms, it may be just as well that I should be occasionally taken down a little; and my lesson did me some service in the way of making me more careful for the future.
THE GOOD TEMPLARS
Who has not heard of the Good Templars, and the wonderful success of an Order which bids fair to rival Freemasonry, and is already established as an Institution in the country? The history of an organisation which, within a few years, has enrolled within its ranks some two hundred thousand persons in England alone, can scarcely be without interest, even to those who may sympathise but slightly with its object or its method of operation.
The almost universal desire to see some more efficient means adopted to check our national curse, intemperance, and to promote true sobriety among the people, must be our excuse for believing that every reader of this Journal will care to know something about the rise and progress of this remarkable movement. We propose, therefore, to give our readers a brief sketch of the history and principles of the Independent Order of Good Templars, the members of which are all pledged to personal abstinence from all intoxicating drink, and who are also associated together with the avowed object of promoting the ultimate and universal suppression of the liquor traffic, on the ground that its continuance is incompatible with the social and moral well-being of the community.
Good Templary took its rise in the state of New York as long ago as the year 1851; and its ramifications spread far and wide throughout the Canadian Dominion, where our troops founded a branch called the 'Templar Sons of Mars.' But it was comparatively unheard of in this country until 1868. A year or two earlier, a young man named Joseph Malins had left Birmingham to settle in Philadelphia, where he became connected with the Order. For domestic reasons, Mr Malins was compelled to return to England; and having, soon after his return, conceived the idea that Good Templary was capable of being made exceedingly useful in his native country, he resolved to do his best to establish a 'lodge' in Birmingham; which was accomplished with considerable difficulty on the 8th September 1868. It was uphill work, for so slow were the teetotalers of England to welcome the American importation, that twelve months of hard work saw only four 'lodges' formed, the total membership not exceeding a hundred persons.
The second year of the new society was also one of slow progress; but Mr Malins, who had now become the Grand Worthy Chief Templar of England, and to which post of honour he is annually re-elected, never despaired of ultimate success, and with the usual characteristic perseverance of an Englishman, 'kept pegging away' until his end was attained.
At the last annual meeting of the supreme governing body in England, it was reported that on the 1st May 1875 there were three thousand five hundred and seventy 'lodges,' containing one hundred and six thousand eight hundred and twenty-five male; and sixty-one thousand six hundred female members; or a total of one hundred and sixty-eight thousand four hundred and twenty-five; which has now increased to more than two hundred thousand members. These statistics, however, do not include Scotland, Ireland, and Wales.
Having thus stated the numerical strength of the Order, we will furnish a brief outline of the principles which form the basis of its government.
Every candidate for membership must give a solemn pledge of total abstinence from all intoxicating drink, together with a promise to do all in his power to promote the cause of temperance; another clause in the obligation being, that he will not only take no part in knowingly injuring a fellow-member, but will, if he is in distress, grant him such assistance as will enable him to tide over his difficulties. In this respect the Order is identical with the principles of freemasonry, which seek to bind man to his fellow-man with ties of love and gratitude.
The title of 'Good Templars' was chosen by the founders of the Order as analogous to that of the 'Knights Templar' of the Crusades; thereby indicating the stern and unrelenting nature of the moral war which was to be carried on against the supporters of the liquor traffic.
Among the few preliminary tests to which candidates have to submit is an inquiry as to whether they believe in the existence and power of Almighty God as the Supreme Ruler and Governor of all. A committee of inquiry having reported on the eligibility of a candidate, and the ballot on his admission being favourable – four black balls being sufficient to reject him – he is initiated with an impressive ceremonial of some twenty minutes' duration, and thus becomes invested with the rights and privileges of membership.
Singing and prayer form a principal part of the initiatory ceremonial, the additional exercises being extempore, at the discretion of the chaplain of the lodge, or else according to certain prescribed forms contained in a book of ceremonies known as the 'ritual' of the order. A password is framed quarterly, which enables a member to pass the door-keepers, whose business it is to prevent the admission of non-members at the weekly session of the lodge; and while the lodge is sitting, each member wears the insignia of the order, the use of which in public demonstrations is compulsory upon no one. A probationary term of three months qualifies the new member for the second degree of the Order, and a further term of three months to the third; certain privileges, such as eligibility to sit in district or grand lodges, being contingent upon the attainment of the higher degrees.
A subordinate lodge may be formed of any number of members not less than ten, and each office is equally available to the male and female members. Within certain prescribed limits, each lodge can, by its by-laws, fix its own rate of subscription, minimum age of candidates, &c.; while it has absolute control over its funds, using them for the promotion of temperance principles in whatever way seems best to the majority. Each lodge reports its numerical strength and other details once a quarter to the district lodge with which it is connected, and at the same time pays a tax of about twopence per member to the district lodge, to the sessions of which it has the right of choosing representatives in proportion to the number of members for whom the tax is paid. Those who have worthily filled certain offices in a subordinate lodge, are also deemed qualified to sit in the district lodge, but not with the power to vote as representatives.
There are about seventy district lodges in England, most of which have for their boundaries the limits of a county electoral division, such as East, North, and South Devon, &c. There are also many Good Templars on board our men-of-war, or in seaports much frequented by seamen of the royal navy; and these naval lodges are formed into a district, of which Captain Phipps, R.N. is deputy.
Each district lodge has a presiding officer bearing the title of District Deputy; and the control of the business of the Order in the district is vested in an executive chosen by the lodge, subject, of course, to the votes of the representatives at the quarterly meeting. From the several district lodges, representatives are chosen to sit in the chief governing assembly for England, and which is known as the Grand Lodge. The last meeting of this body was held at Newcastle-on-Tyne during Easter-week 1876, and was presided over by Mr Malins, the Grand Worthy Chief Templar of England, who is the only paid officer of the order. His salary, or rather an annual grant in recognition of his great services (for it has to be voted every year), is five hundred pounds. On the occasion in question the representatives or committee men at Grand Lodge numbered between five and six hundred, and as the sitting was public so far as the members of the Order were concerned, the capacity of the town-hall at Newcastle was tried to its utmost. The session occupied four days, during which a vast amount of business was done in connection with the Order, and many suggested improvements discussed.
In 1875, Hengler's Circus, London, was used for the meeting of Grand Lodge, and was filled to overflowing; while in 1874, St George's Hall, Bradford; Colston Hall, Bristol, in 1873; and the Corn Exchange at Preston in 1872 were crowded in like manner. But the assembly of each succeeding year surpasses that which has preceded it both in numerical strength and interest.
The internal affairs of the Order are carried on during the year by an executive council of eight members, aided by a weekly consultation committee. The offices of the Grand Lodge occupy a prominent position in the centre of Birmingham; and a considerable staff of clerks is required to conduct the enormous correspondence continually going on with every part of the country, and to despatch temperance literature and other matters requisite to carry out the business of district and subordinate lodges. To meet the cost of this establishment and other outlay, each district lodge remits a small quarterly tax, based upon the number of the members under its direction. Scotland and Ireland have each Grand Lodges with subordinate machinery similar to that of England. Wales has two such organisations, one for the English-speaking, and the other for the Welsh-speaking portion of the community.
Each state in North America has also its Grand Lodge, as also has Canada, Quebec, Australia, New Zealand, India, &c.; representatives from which meet yearly under the designation of the 'Right Worthy Grand Lodge.' The last sitting of this supreme body was held in Louisville, Kentucky, during the month of May last year. There are about sixty Grand Lodges in all.
Since the order was introduced into this country, Mr Malins has had the satisfaction of seeing the organisation for which he has done so much extended to Holland, Germany, France, Portugal, the Mediterranean, China, Japan, Ceylon, Africa, India, Australia, New Zealand, British Guiana, Barbadoes, British Honduras, Bermuda, the Argentine Republic, and many other places too numerous to mention.
The statistical returns from the several districts in England are being compiled, and it is understood that they shew satisfactory progress so far as they have yet been examined. Some idea of the work which is being carried on by the Independent Order of Good Templars may be gathered from the following particulars, gleaned from one of the annual Reports: 'Each lodge meets weekly, and over twenty thousand public meetings were held during the year; an average of nearly seventy a day.'
Of the English members of the Order, about one half are estimated to have become teetotalers on joining the order, the rest having been abstainers previously; while careful inquiries shew from twelve to fifteen thousand as the probable number of the Queen's subjects who have been reclaimed from a life of intemperance. There is also a juvenile branch, in which over fifty thousand children are enrolled as members.
Foremost among the questions which now agitate this remarkable society is that of the proposed admission of the negro to the rights and privileges of a 'Good Templar.' Grand Lodge is believed to be in favour of his admission to the Order; though it is scarcely to be wondered at, perhaps, that many Templars should find themselves at variance with their leaders on this subject. We think, however, that Good Templary would be ennobled by acknowledging the rights of man all over the world, be his colour what it may, to participate in any movement which has for its object the moral and social improvement of mankind.
All honour and success to such a glorious movement for the benefit of the human race! Of the incalculable good which has already been bestowed upon thousands of families by the beneficent exertions of these Good Templars it is impossible to speak; but its influence has been felt throughout the land as if it were a message from Heaven itself; while the ramifications of such a society in all parts of the world, even though it fail to stamp out the demon of intemperance, will surely at least mitigate the evil, and institute a beneficent medium of charitable intercourse between man and man. Again we say, all honour and success to such a glorious movement for the benefit of the human race.
PORCELAIN-PAINTING
Painting on porcelain has for some years past made such progress amongst the amusements of fashionable life, that the homely joys and destiny obscure of those who toil for a livelihood in this department of the useful arts acquire a new interest. In the group of Staffordshire 'pottery towns,' as they are called, which lie within a mile or two of each other, and are connected by the somewhat exclusive system of the North Staffordshire Railway, not far from the beautifully wooded conical hill of Cocknage, and at an easy walking distance from Trentham Hall, the magnificent seat of the 'Leveson-Gowers,' in one of the most charming silvan districts of England, is Longton, formerly called Lane-end, with its picturesque and quiet suburb of Dresden. In 'Burslem,' Hanley, Stoke, and Longton itself, the atmosphere may not be quite so pure as one could wish; but to find a bright and translucent atmosphere requires but a slight exertion. From Stoke to Newcastle-under-Lyme, and thence to Woolstanton, or to Chesterton and Silverdale, or to Trentham – by Longton pool, shining like a mirror in front of the handsome Hall, or by cool sequestered Blurton, with its quaint churchyard and umbrageous trees – the wayfarer passes along lanes of unrivalled beauty: in summer by rose-clustered cottages, and meadows where the youthful Archie Lovel may have gathered kingcups and daisies; and in the clear cold days of winter, by hedges jewelled with red berries.
