The Cornerstone
a brief life of John Murray for young people, by Irene Carrow Rees
II. New Friends Appear
About this time Mr. Little, a man of great wealth and position, joined the Methodists. As he had been a violent opposer there was great rejoicing, and the Murrays in particular received him with open arms. The two families became so intimate that they spent a portion of each day together. John and Mr. Little's second son were inseparable companions, even to the point of arousing the jealousy of the elder brother.
Mr. Little and his wife equaled the Murrays in religious zeal. Although well along in years, they used to rise at four o'clock in the depth of Winter and go about summoning the neighbors to attend the morning service, which was at five the year round. Mr. Murray was often unable to attend but John was always present and the Littles were delighted with his zeal.
Association with this family added much to John's happiness. Mr. Little had a large library of standard works and John was free to feast at will upon these hitherto forbidden fruits. They made a pleasing change from the perpetual diet of "Baxter's Saints' Rest," to which be had been treated since infancy. He thought it the part of prudence, however, to say nothing to his father of this new source of pleasure.
It was at Mrs. Little Is that John met a Miss Dupee, who was paying the family a long visit. She was over twenty-five and a Methodist with a reputation for great piety.
Unusually short of stature, sallow of complexion, large of feature and with a disagreeable cast in the eye, the lady's claims to beauty were few. The boys were in the parlor when she arrived but slipped out as soon as possible. They talked her over and decided with the remorseless cruelty of youth that she was just about the plainest person they had ever seen and that they were both too busy to give her much attention. In compensation for an unattractive face, she had a sweet voice and a charming manner, a combination which amply avenged her with the boys, for inside of three weeks they both fancied themselves violently in love with her. Neither guessed the plight of the other but attributed sighs, groans and melancholy looks to religious fervor.
At last John confessed to his friend and was dismayed to hear a like confession from him. He was sure the end had come to their friendship but young Little declared that since John had been the first to mention his love, he had the prior right to the young lady. John was equally generous. He embraced his friend, exclaiming with tears, "No, my noble-hearted friend, never will I accept such a sacrifice." They decided since they could not tell for which of them "the heavenly Father had designed this treasure," that each should have an equal chance to win her affections, wisely leaving the final decision with the lady herself.
The ardent John soon wrote her a letter full of his boyish love. He did not dare entrust it to a servant lest it fall into the hands of his father, whose anger he feared even more than the lady's "No." One Wednesday night returning from meeting he found a chance to slip it into her hand, begging that she read it in secret. Miss Dupee must have been something of a coquette for she gave him an eloquent look and a pressure of the hand which sent him to the seventh heaven of delight. From then until Friday evening he kept away from Mr. Little's and scarcely ate or slept. He never dreamed that she would betray his confidence, least of all to the one he most dreaded; but the lady chose, instead of sending her answer direct to Johni to enclose it in a letter to his father.
John entered the house that Friday night with more than his usual dread of his father's presence and his fears were well grounded. He found the family assembled and Mr. Murray in a state of truly awful wrath.
"Come hither, Sir," he thundered, and beginning a slow search of his pockets, during which his son stood a trembling culprit before him, finally brought forth and unfolded a letter which John instantly recognized as his own to Miss Dupee. Mr. Murray read it aloud with contemptuous comments which cut like lashes and sent the boy from his presence humiliated and angry, but completely cured of his fancied love. At the moment he detested his father, Miss Dupee, and himself. Mrs. Murray felt keenly for him but dared not interfere. He fled for sympathy to his f riend Little, whose indignation rivaled his own. That Miss Dupee was sufficiently honorable to mention the matter to no one but his father, somewhat softened John's bitterness toward her.
This episode served to bind the young men more closely together and there followed a period of happy companionship which was abruptly brought to a close by the sudden illness and death of young Little. It was a severe blow to John and he was "beyond expression wretched." "A gloomy religion makes death horrible!" he wrote in his diary.
While the grief was still fresh, the remaining son of Mr. Little was stricken with a similar fever and his death soon followed. John himself contracted the disease and was dangerously ill for many weeks. On his recovery, the Littles seemed to have transferred to him the love they had lavished on their sons, hardly allowing him out of their sight. They ended by asking the privilege of adopting him, but, as before, Mr. Murray could not bear the thought of losing his authority over John. He felt that Mr. Little Is wealth would give the boy indulgences which would surely lead to his ruin. The offer was so tactfully refused, however, that no offense was given. Indeed, the Littles held such an opinion of Mr. Murray's wisdom and piety that they would not have presumed to censure any decision he might make.
A religious melancholy, sufficient to delight the most austere, now took complete possession of John. He gave up everything to devote himself to his father and went nowhere and did nothing without his sanction. The two spent hours together in prayer and conversation. They drew nearer to each other in these last months than in all the previous years. Yet even so, John confessed that his feeling was one of reverential awe rather than affection.
Mr. Murray continued to conduct family prayers, though sometimes his voice was so weak as to be scarcely audible. On Good Friday he called the family and servants together to tell them the end was near. After beseeching the children to obey John as the elder brother, and the one he had appointed to take his place, he asked John to conduct family prayer that he might have the joy of hearing him before he died. Divided between grief and his still dominant fear that he would fail to satisfy his father, John dropped to his knees by the bedside opposite his weeping mother, and with groans sobbed out his petition. At its conclusion his father exclaimed, "Now, O Lord, let thy servant depart in peace," and with his hands upon his son's bowed head gave his blessing. John would have watched by the bedside all night, but his father dismissed him with, "Go to rest and the God of your fathers be ever with you." These were the last words John heard him speak. Before dawn he had passed away.
At once the house was thronged with weeping friends, for Mr. Murray was not only esteemed as a saint in the community, but was sincerely beloved by his neighbors. In Ireland it is the custom to watch by the dead till burial, and at Mr. Little's suggestion, continued services of prayer and preaching were held day and night in the house till the funeral, the time being apportioned among friends, John taking his share with the older men.
With his father's death, John's entire feeling towards him changed. He suffered the keenest remorse for having ever rebelled against his rigid discipline, and he assumed the guidance and correction of his brothers and si sters, in a manner which produced stubborn rebellion in a very brief time. Matters came to a crisis when he tried by a severe whipping to restore his next younger brother to the narrow path of virtue from which John deemed he had wandered. Mrs. Murray was appealed to and took time for consideration. That evening she gathered the children around the father's vacant chair and with gentle reproof called to their remembrance his dying injunction, committing them to the care of their elder brother as the head of the household. Her wise words brought a peace to the little family which was unbroken as long as they remained together.
Shortly after his father's death, John was able to gain possession of an estate, part of his mother's patrimony, which had fraudulently been taken from the family some time before. This good fortune relieved them from further financial anxiety. Their new home was attractive and surrounded by ample grounds which John delighted to improve. The entire family were happy and contented, receiving and making many visits. They were so altogether comfortable that John's conscience gave him many a twinge. The sighs and groans and abundant tears which would be so many proofs of righteousness were all absent.