A TRUE STORY

" "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord." (Ps.xxxvii. 23.) This Scripture statement is one which the Christian often knows to be fulfilled. In reviewing his course in life, he cannot but mark how he has been led, perhaps unknown to himself at the time, by a power greater than his own. The honest endeavour to act rightly in some affair, small or great, is often seen to have helped him to act rightly in some other respect, whilst a wrong step has rarely ended where it was expected to do, but has been the connecting link in a chain of errors or difficulties. What additional responsibility attaches to the every-day actions of our lives, when we see how each one may greatly affect the future welfare of himself or his fellow men! But the Lord Jesus Christ has told us that all events are under the eye of our Father in Heaven. "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall to the ground without your Father." (Matt. x. 29.) The humblest sincere Christian may with confidence commit his way unto the Lord, while, faithful to the teachings of the Holy Spirit, and attentive to the suggestions that present themselves in the mind with some religious obligation, he walks circumspectly; "continuing in prayer, and watching in the same with thanksgiving." (Col. Iv. 2.)

The following narrative, which the reader may be assured is strictly true in all its particulars remarkably illustrates the foregoing remarks. It is printed as originally written, in the quaint and simple style of the good man (the late Thomas Sturge,) who here gives some pages out of his own life's history.

I was once made instrumental in saving the life of a man who was committed for trial on a charge of forgery. The story is a long one; and it illustrates in a remarkable manner the way in which events apparently unconnected are brought to bear on one another, to the frustrations of the malicious designs of the devil, who in this case had as I believe laid a plot from the beginning, to take away the life of an innocent man. My narrative may be divided into three parts: we begin with

CHAPTER THE FIRST

At one period of my life, when we lived in the New Kent Road, London, I had a great many fowls; they were kept in a large yard, where the stable and other out-buildings were situated, and their eggs were daily brought into the house. I had several men at work in this yard, and was one day told by a lad who looked after the poultry and collected the eggs, that there was one nest out of which an egg was taken away every day; there was no information as to who the offender was and I determined to watch for him, thinking that as I was generally on the premises and could easily hear the cackling of the hens, I should learn the number of eggs that were laid daily and be able to ascertain when there was one missing. The lad said to me; "Master, if thee look out none will be taken;" and I found that during the time I was known to be on the watch, none of the eggs were taken. However I continued to look out for the thief, which I had done diligently for some time without success, when it was one day suggested to me by my groom, a servant whom I much valued, and who had lived with me about twelve years, that a poor Irishman whom I had in my employ was the offender; now when I thought about it, I recollected that the man had a curious peeping way with him, and that he was often peeping and peering about on the premises; and the question arose in my mind, "Shall I discharge him?" But then I remembered that I knew no harm of him, that I had no proof against him, and believing acting on suspicion to be a temptation of the devil, who was aiming to take away the poor man's character, I quelled it at once, and determined that I would suspect no one, but continue to watch and wait patiently however long it might be, until I could see for myself who was the thief. And here I would remark that suspicion is a thing quite under the control of the will; we can resolve not to suspect, we ought to do so unless we have good ground for entertaining doubt on the subject: it will be seen in the end of what vast importance this exercise of the will was in the present case.

There was a stray nest under a large shed in the yard, from which the missing eggs were stolen; and by examining the nest at different times, and by concealing myself underneath some straw in the building when the men left their work in the evenings, I became convinced that the offender, whoever he was, must commit his theft in the early morning, and I formed my plan accordingly. Rising a four o'clock one morning, I established myself in a fresh hiding place before any of the men were come to their work; not in the spot where I had been concealed in the straw, but in a dark corner at the further end of the building, with my back bent underneath the projecting timbers, and my face in a position whence I could see all that went on in the neighbourhood of the nest. Five o'clock struck, and then six, - the men came, chatted a little, and then went to their work; you may suppose that my back ached not a little, and I grew very tired of my constrained position, but I was still not inclined to give up; and besides I was now bound to stay where I was until my men had gone home to breakfast, for had I come out I should have been discovered. At length about half-past six, the groom, whose business it was to sweep the stable and other out-buildings, came in to perform this morning duty: he swept on steadily for a while, and then I saw him stop, mount on a small cask that stood near, and look earnestly at the top of the shed, and then all round the building. He then descended and went on with his work, but after a short interval remounted and repeated his examination; my heart began to beat quickly as I watched him, for it was easy to guess his motive, and he was a servant whom I highly valued, who had held a situation of considerable trust, and had had much confidence placed in him. I saw his scrutinizing glance directed to the straw on which I had hitherto concealed myself when on the watch, but I knew he could not see me where I was, the light falling in a different direction. Again he resumed his sweeping, and a third time left it and got on the cask to look around as before; and having satisfied himself that there was no one near, he went to the nest, swept a little more, then took the egg, put it in his pocket, and went out into the stable! Instantly descending from my post of observation, I followed him, stood behind him at the stable door, and said in a firm deliberate voice, "Give me that egg I saw thee take." He put his hand in his pocket and gave it me without a word: I said no more to him then but went to the counting house, and sat down until I felt perfectly cool and collected, and then went and called him to come and speak to me. On entering the room he began most ernestly to entreat my forgiveness, declaring it was the first egg he had ever taken. I said "That wont do; the devil has caught thee in a trap; he has first induced thee to steal the egg, and now positively to declare that this is the first one stolen, in order to keep thy place; but now I must part with thee to find the other thief." Again in the course of the morning I sent for him and received only the same assurances. It happened about this time that I was going a journey of ten or twelve days with my sister; I felt confident he would not rob me while away, and so left him in his place, and soon after our return I parted with him, much to the wonder of his fellow servants, who knew how highly I had prized him and had never heard of any difference between him and his master. Shortly after this, having no further work for them, several men were discharged; including the poor Irishman whom the groom wished me to suspect. It should be observed that no more eggs were stolen after I had detected the groom.

CHAPTER THE SECOND

It happened some time after the events recorded in the last chapter, that a merchant in London who had purchased a cargo of spermaceti oil &c., refused to stand to his bargain when the vessel came into port. An action was consequently bought against him, and one day a paper, together with the sum of one guinea, was delivered to me, which I found to be a sub-poena summoning me to attend the court of King's Bench on a certain day under a penalty of a hundred pounds. I took the paper to my attorney to consult him about it, and having been told there was no help for it but that I must attend on the given day, I obeyed the summons and went. It was the first time I had ever been in a court of justice, and I was much struck with the length of time (which appeared to me a great waste) occupied in the examining of witnesses, and with the confused and indefinite answers given by them. There was one man in particular, a Jew, well known to me, and a very upright man, but as timid as a hare, who in giving his evidence to my astonishment said that he did not know whether such a vessel had come in, when it was a well known fact that he did know, and there were several in court who felt ready to call him to account for not speaking the truth; but on looking at him narrowly I saw that he was so alarmed and agitated at the situation in which he was placed, that all his power of memory was gone, and he did not know in the least what he was saying.

After waiting a long time I was summonsed to the witness box, where I stood while a man read the form of oath usually administered; but finding I took no notice of it he looked up, just said "I see, I see," and then read a form of affirmation, which I repeated after him. This done, a barrister (Sir James Scarlett, afterwards Lord Abinger) was beginning to question me, when I said that if he would give me leave I would tell them what I knew in my own way; he said "certainly, Mr Sturge," and I then said, "We offered £75 per tun for the Head-Matter (Head-Matter, the name of the brain of the Spermaceti Whale) of that Cargo, and it was refused." Mr Gurney, (Counsellor Gurney, afterwards Baron Gurney,) who was then an eminent pleader, and counsel for the defendant, whose duty it was to cross examine me, rose and began to frame a question; but looking at me steadfastly for a moment, shook his head and said, "No, no, Mr Sturge, I have nothing to say to you," and sat down again. Not a single question was asked of me; and I was complimented by the Judge, who thanked me for the manner in which I had given evidence, and remarked on the great saving of time that it would be to the Court if such an example were generally followed: and from that day I was well known to all the eminent men in Court. Now there is not the slightest apparent connection between this circumstance and the story of the stolen eggs, but you will see in the end how important a bearing it had upon the events which followed.

CHAPTER THE THIRD

I must now return to the history of John Conolly, the poor Irishman mentioned in my first chapter. One day, on the road near his own home, his wife picked up a purse, containing a one pound note and two pence, and being very poor, he and his wife naturally rejoiced over their prize, and the next day he proceeded to spend a portion of it in food. In the first butcher's shop that he entered the note was declared to be a bad one and refused; upon this he shewed it to a gentleman whom he met on the road, inquiring what he thought of it; he told him that he believed the note to be quite good and that he would have given him one in exchange for it, only he did not then happen to have one with him: after this the man felt no hesitation it offering it at another butcher's, where he bought a small quantity of meat and received 19s. 3d. change. The instant he reached home, two men entered and arrested him on the charge of uttering forged notes; he was taken before the magistrates for examination, and there explained the way in which he became possessed of the note, declared his ignorance that it was a bad one, and mentioned the circumstance of his meeting and asking the gentleman about it; but it was very clear from the evidence that he had passed it, and indeed in this respect his own story quite agreed with that of the witnesses, he was fully committed for trial at the next assizes. I said that I had heard nothing of him for a long while; at length the information reached me that he was in prison, and I thought that I would go and see him. I found him apparently happy and contented enough; he was very glad to see his old master, and told me how it has all happened, still protesting his innocence of the charge. After this I frequently went to see him, and was always gladly welcomed, for it is a very pleasant enlivening thing to a man who is shut up by himself in prison, to have a visitor now and then, who will and come an talk cheerfully to him and tell him a little of what is going on in the world from which he is shut out; then I used to sometimes take him some tobacco, or a little better food than his coarse prison fare, and was not the less welcome on that account. But there is another way in which such visits as these are beneficial to a prisoner; his keeper sees that there is some one who cares for him, and especially when that person is a gentleman, treats him with greater kindness and consideration in consequence, naturally supposing that there must be something superior about the man to call forth all this attention. And the same thing may be said with reference to hospitals, you do real good by visiting the patients there, and may notice that they will beg you earnestly to come again, well knowing what a good thing it is for them in the effect it produces on their attendants.

As the time of the assizes drew near, the number of prisoners committed on the same charge as Conolly was unusually large, for the crime of forgery at that time prevailed to such an extent in England, that a reward of £100 was offered to anyone giving such information as would lead to the conviction of offenders. This reward passed by the current name of blood money; but it was in itself an evil, for there were persons who, desiring to obtain it, laid schemes against the innocent, and too often contrived, by a train of circumstantial evidence, to prove a false charge against them, and bring them to a trial ending in their conviction and death. Thus, in the case of the Irishman, it was supposed that the money had been purposely put in his way by some of the police, and that he had been watched from the time that he first had it in his possession, until he was in the hands of the officers who had arrested him: this abuse was well known and commonly practised, and great concern was felt in consequence, especially when it was known how large a number of prisoners (there were twenty-four in the same prison as Conolly) were awaiting their trial for the offence. Great efforts were made by some persons interested in the removal of the evil, to effect some alteration, so as to lessen the risk, then so great, of taking innocent life, and they succeeded in obtaining an understanding, that it the prisoners would plead guilty to the minor charge of uttering the forged notes, the sentence of death, though recorded against them, should not be executed, but changed into transportation for life. They then endeavoured to persuade the prisoners to agree to this, and succeeded with all the twenty-four, but when they came to the Irishman, he declared that he would not tell a lie, and that he was not guilty. They tried in vain to alter his determination, but at length he told them he should like to hear what his old master had to say about it, and that he would act upon his advice; upon this they came to me at once, hoping that I should persuade him to plead guilty. I told them that I should not: that I would undertake to see the man, and ascertain he fully understood the proposal they had made to him, but I should not attempt to influence him; he must judge entirely for himself. I accordingly went to him, found him still happy and uncomplaining, and asserting his innocence as before, and saw that he quite understood what had been proposed to him; he wished for my advice, but I said "No, I am not going to advise thee, thee must decide for thyself," upon which he said at once that he was not guilty and would not say he was, and that as for the hanging he would as soon be hanged as transported. I told him that as he had so determined I would do all I could for him, that I could not bear witness to his character, as they would not receive my evidence unless I swore to it, (at that time evidence in criminal cases was only received upon oath,) which it was against my conscience to do: but that I would engage counsel to defend him, and use every effort to prove his innocence.

From the prison I went to my attorney, and having obtained from him the name of one of the most eminent advocates who practised in that circuit, I proceeded without delay to wait upon him; he received me courteously, and listened to my story with much interest, but told me when I had finished that he could not undertake the case. I asked him why - he said it would be against his interest to do so; so I thanked him for his frankness, and said that perhaps he would be so obliging as to give me the name of another advocate, whom he could speak of as a clever man, and one who would not likely to object. He mentioned a Mr Curwood, whom I next visited, and with whom I was more successful; he entered into the case with great interest, and agreed to undertake the defence, -- I asked him his fee, - the sum of twelve guineas was named and paid at once, and we then proceeded to make arrangements for the coming trial. There were several persons - small tradesmen and others - who were neighbours of the prisoner, and could give evidence as to his character; these were to be secured as witnesses, and papers summoning them to attend were drawn out at once and committed to my charge. The Counsel then said, "Although you can't swear Mr Sturge I shall put you in the witness box;" - I said "Very well but they won't hear me, will they?" however he told me he should try it, and of course I did not object.

The day of the trial came, and I went myself in a hackney coach to fetch the witnesses (one of whom would have been brought forward by the prosecuting party, had we not prevented it by being beforehand with them) and we drove all together to the court; where, as the trial proceeded, there seemed but little chance of the poor man's acquittal. When all the evidence had been heard, in obedience to my Counsel's directions I stepped into the witness box, and began to speak without waiting for the oath being administered; but was quickly interrupted by the Judge, who was a very sharp stern sort of man, saying in a gruff angry voice, "The witness has not been sworn." I said that I could not take the oath, it being against my conscience to do so; "Stand down Sir," in the same harsh tone, was the only reply I got, and I turned away, feeling that now I could do nothing more; but as I descended the steps I heard my name called eagerly "Mr Sturge, Mr Sturge," and looking around, I found, that one of the men in the large wigs was beckoning me towards him, whom, on observing him closely I recognised as the Mr (afterwards Baron) Gurney, mentioned in my second chapter, as having risen to question me, then changed his mind and sat down again, and who in this case was the Counsel for the prosecution. He called me to his side and said "What was it that you would have said in the prisoner's favour, Mr Sturge?" I told him the character I should have given him, and he then asked if my opinion of him was such as to induce me to take him again into my service, were he to be set at liberty; I replied that undoubtedly I would, and not only so, but would take care that he should not want for work as long as I had work to give him. Mr Gurney then turned to the Judge, and emphatically said, "My Lord, I know Mr Sturge, and he is a most respectable man; he says so and so (repeating what I had just been saying) and I desire that the prisoner may not lose the benefit of his evidence!" The Judge, then all blandness and courtesy said, "Gentlemen of the Jury, you hear what the learned Advocate says," and such was its effect upon them, that after a short consultation they returned a verdict of Not Guilty.

Before I left the Court, through the influence of Mr Gurney, I obtained an order for the man's immediate release, and this you may suppose was the most moving scene of the whole; and I must leave you to imagine what my feelings were as I stood by and watched his irons knocked off, and afterwards drove with him to my house.

Now, as I said before, I believe that the devil, who is the author of all evil, had planned the destruction of this poor man's life; that God in his foreknowledge seeing this, determined to prevent it, and made me the instrument of accomplishing his designs, guiding my actions through a chain of circumstances, the connexion of which I could not see until afterwards, and preparing me to give such evidence at the trial as should lead to Conolly's acquittal. Thus in the matter of the eggs, the temptation of unjust suspicion was presented to me by satan, but I was enabled to withstand it; had I admitted it, and discharged the Irishman, of course I could not afterwards have borne testimony to his character. You now see too, that the events related in my second chapter, though apparently unconnected with what preceded, yet had an important influence on the event; for it was the impression made upon Mr Gurney then, which led him to notice me at the trial, and to speak of me in the Court as "a most respectable man," one whom he knew, and on whose veracity he could depend, whether he swore or not. Thus we see that we can never know of what importance even trifling actions may become, nor how, in all we do, we may be the unconscious instruments of good; working out the accomplishment of God's designs; whilst such instances as that now narrated show how needful it is in all we do to be guided only by what we believe to be right, without regard to consequences."