CHAPTER XXXI. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
It is a troublesome fact that, even when people are very much interested, and very eager over important themes, commonplace and comparatively trivial duties, will intrude, and insist upon being done at that moment. For instance, our girls were obliged to spend the whole of Monday morning in packing their trunks and satchels, returning their furniture, settling for their tents, and the like; in short, breaking up housekeeping and getting ready to go back to the civilized world. Flossy and Ruth dispatched their part at the hotel promptly and came over to the grounds to help the others. They discussed the meeting while they worked.
"If we hadn't been idiots," Marion said, "we should have attended that normal class and been graduating, this morning, instead of being down here, at work at our trunks and unknown to fame." "Well, you wouldn't go," Ruth answered. "Don't you know you declared that was too much like work, and you hadn't an idea of learning anything?" "Oh, yes," said Marion. "I remember a great many things I have said, that I would quite as soon forget." By dint of eager bustling from one point to another, the work was accomplished by noon, and all the girls were ready for the afternoon service, which all seemed equally eager to attend. When they reached the stand they looked about them in surprise and dismay.
"Everybody is gone!" said Flossy, "only look! There are ever so many unoccupied seats!" Marion laughed.
"And ever so many that are occupied," she said. "My child, you have been so used to counting audiences by the thousands, that sixteen or seventeen hundred people look rather commonplace to you. However, there are more than that number here, I think." It soon became a matter of small importance, whether there were few or many, so long as they had the good fortune to be there themselves, and to have the company of Dr. Eben Tourjée.
Now it so happened that among these four girls there were two to whom God had given special gifts: though neither of them had ever considered that there were such things as gifts from God, which they were bound to use in his service.
There was Ruth Erskine, who had capabilities for music in the ends of her fingers, that would have almost entranced the angels. What did she do with her talent? Almost nothing. She hated the sickly sentimentalities which, set to music, find their way into fashionable parlors by the score. She was not in the society that knew of, or craved, the higher, grander kind of music; and because she did, and did not know it, she simply palled of the kind within her reach and let her gift lie waste.
Then there was Marion, whose voice was simply grand, both in power and tone. What had she done with her voice? Sung by the hour to the old father whose tender memory lingered with her to-day; less than nothing with it since; no one knew she could sing; she hated singing in school, she never went anywhere else; so only occasionally could the four walls of her upper back room have testified that there was a talent buried there.
Did Dr. Tourjée travel from Boston to Chautauqua for the purpose of inspiring and educating these two girls. I don't suppose he knew of their existence, but that makes no difference, they are working out his lecture all the same; in fact it is nearly a year since these Chautauqua girls came home, and if you have any sort of desire to know what Chautauqua theories develop into, when put to the test, please keep a sharp lookout for " The Chautauqua Girls at Home ." As the familiar talk on music went on, Ruth, with her eyes aglow, began to plan in her own heart, first what she might do, and presently what she would do. And Marion, at the other end of the seat, went through the same process neither imagining that these same 'doings' would bring them together, and lead to endless other doings. But that is just the way in which life is going on every where, who imagined that what you did yesterday, would lead your neighbor to do what he has done to-day?
"Luther said: 'Next to theology, I place sacred music.'" This was the sentence that started a train of thought for Ruth. After that, she listened in order that she might work.
"Never use an interlude in church, I pray God that I may be forgiven for the fiddle-faddle that I have strummed on organs, in the name of interludes." This, delighted Marion, she hated interludes. She hated quartette choirs. She had steadily refused to be beguiled into one, by the few who knew that she could sing, so, when Dr. Tourjée said: "Think of the grand old hymn, 'From all that dwell below the skies, let the Creator's praise arise,' being warbled by one voice, a grand chorus of four coming in on the third line!" Marion was entirely in sympathy with him, and eager for work in the way in which he pointed out. It was an enjoyable afternoon in every respect. But to "our girls" it was much more than that, it was an education. Every one of them got ideas which they were eager to put in practice; and they saw their ways clear to practise them to some purpose. When the service was over, and the audience moved away, a sense of sadness and lonliness began to creep over many, snatches of remark could be heard on all sides.
"Where is Dr. Fowler?" "Gone: went this morning." "Where is the Miller party?" "Oh, they went some time ago." "When did the president leave?" "It's all about 'go,'" Eurie said: "Look! How they are crowding down to the boat; and only a stray one now and then coming up from there. Who would have supposed it could make us feel so forlorn? I am glad we are not to be at the morning meeting. I am not sure but I should cry of homesickness. I say, girls, let's go to Palestine." Which suggestion was greeted with delight, and they immediately went. A great many were of the same mind. Mr. Vanlennep in full Turkish dress, was leading the way, and giving his familiar lecture on the—to him—familiar spots. The girls stood near him by the sea of Galilee, and heard his tender farewell words, and his hope that they would all meet on the other side of Jordon. It was hard to keep back the quiet tears from falling.
They climbed Mount Hermon in silence, and looked over at Mount Lebanon, they came back by the way of Cesarea, and turned aside to take a last look at Joppa, down by the sea. In almost total silence this walk back was accomplished. What was the matter with them all?
Mr. Roberts had joined them, and he and Flossy walked on ahead. But their voices were subdued and their subject—to judge from their faces, quieting , to say the least. Then they all went to take their last supper at Chautauqua. Not one of them grumbled over anything. Indeed, they all agreed that the board had certainly improved very much during the last few days, and that it was really remarkable that such a throng of people could have been served so promptly and courteously, and on the whole, so well, as had been done there. Still, it was strange to have plenty of elbow room, and to see the waiters moving leisurely up and down the long halls; no one in haste, no one kept waiting.
As they rose from table, a gentleman passed through; they had passed each other every day for a week; they had no idea what his name was, and I suppose he knew as little about them. But he paused before them:
"Good-bye," he said. And held out his hand, "I hope we shall all meet at the assembly up there!" "Good-bye," they answered, and they shook hands. None of them smiled, none of them thought it strange; though they had never been introduced! It was the Chautauqua brotherhood of feeling. But after two weeks of experience and much practice in that line, it was impossible to rid onesself of the feeling that one must hurry down to the stand in order to secure seats; so they hurried, and had a new experience; they were among the first twenty on the ground.
"The audience will be utterly lost to-night in this immense array of seats;" Flossy said in dismay. "Doesn't it feel forlorn?" But they took their seats, and presently came Miss Ryder and seated herself at the piano in the twilight, and the tunes she played were soft and tender and weird.
"Every note says 'goodbye,'" said Ruth, and she gave a little sigh. Presently, the calcium lights began to glow, as usual, and meantime though everybody was supposed to have left; still, the people came from somewhere; and at last, dismayed voices began to say:
"Why! Did you ever see the like! I thought we should surely get good seats to-night? Where do all the people come from." "Look! Marion," said Eurie. "What would Dr. Harris think of such a congregation as this! They could not get into our church, could they?" But just then the hymn claimed attention:
"My days are gliding swiftly by." How swiftly these days had glided away. How full they had been! During the prayer that followed, all heads bowed, and the silence that fell upon them made it seem that all hearts joined. Dr. Vincent was the first speaker. His manner and voice had changed. Both were subdued; he looked like a man who had been lifted up for a great mental strain and was gradually letting down again to earth.
"We are coming toward the close," he said. "We are more quiet than we have been here before. Familiar faces and forms that have moved in and out among these trees, for two weeks past, have gone. Only a few hours and we are going; only a few hours and utter silence will fall upon Chautauqua." "Oh dear!" murmured Eurie, "why will he be so forlorn! I don't see why I need care so much! Who would have supposed I could!" "Hush!" said Marion, and she surreptitiously wiped away a tear. "A love feast," Dr. Vincent said they were going to have, for that last evening; it was very much like that. The farewell from Canada came next; the speaker said he had been "thawed out," meant to have America annexed to Canada! Indeed they had already been annexed; in heart and soul! "Who's who?" said he, and "what's what? Who knows?" There was just enough of the comical mixed with the pathetic in this address to steady many a tremulous heart.
Dr. Presbry followed in much the same strain, closing, though, with such a tender tribute to some who had been at the assembly the year before, and had since gone to join the assembly that never breaks up, that the tears came to the surface again. But those blessed Tennesseeans just at that point made the grounds ring with the chorus, "Oh jubilee! jubilee! the Christian religion is jubilee!" and followed it with: "I've been a long time in the house of God, and I ain't got weary yet." By that time our girls looked at each other with faces on which tears and smiles struggled for the mastery.
"Shall we laugh, or cry?" whispered Eurie, and then they giggled outright. But they sobered instantly and sat upright, ready to listen, for the next one who appeared on the platform was Dr. Deems.
He, too, commenced as if the spell of the parting was upon him. "He was too tired," he said, "to make a short speech. Some one asked Walter Scott why he didn't put a certain book of his into one volume instead of five. And he said he hadn't time. It took five weeks to prepare a speech three minutes long. And then he warmed, and grew with his subject until the beautiful thoughts fell around them like pearls. Not only beautiful, but searching.
"No man," said he, " dares to make a careless speech at Chautauqua, there are too many to treasure it up, to plant it again." Of course he knew nothing about those girls, and how much seed they were gathering which they meant to plant; but they gathered it, all the same. He dropped his seeds with lavish hand. This was one that took root in Marion's brain and heart: "There are so many side influences that are unconscious, that the only safe way for one to do is to let no part of himself ravel, but to keep himself round and thorough, and healthy to the core." After that, Marion's pencil, on which I have to depend for my notes, gave up in despair. "I couldn't keep track of that man!" she said, when I complained. "There was no more use to try than there would be to count these apple blossoms," for it was this spring, and we were standing in an apple orchard, and a perfect shower of the white, sweet-smelling things came fluttering round our heads. But after he 'calmed down a little,' as she called it, she tried to write again; and I copy this: "Brethren: This meeting will convert some of the most thoughtful people of this generation: men who come here not knowing by personal experience the power of this thing, men who walk thoughtfully up and down these aisles, looking on, will say: 'There are scholars here, there are men of genius, of great brain power, there are men and women here of every variety of temperament, and attainment, held together for fourteen days by one common bond,' and the perseverance, the solemnity, the hilarity, the freedom, the naturalness, the earnestness of this meeting will so impress them that they will know that there is a miracle holding us, a supernatural strength. "May I give you to-night one word more of gospel invitation? Come, go with us, you who do not understand this matter for yourselves, go with us, and we will do you good. Will you go to your rooms to-night and make the resolve that shall write your names in God's book of life? The recording angel has a trembling hand this minute, waiting for your answer. Weary one, so young and yet so tired, come, come, come now." Marion, with cheeks burning, and eyes very bright and earnest, looked around her: Eurie sat next to her, she seemed unmoved, there was no sign of tears to her bright eyes, but she was looking steadily at the speaker.
"Never mind!" Marion said within herself, and there came to her an eager desire to begin her practice, to do something; what if it were utter failure, would the fault be hers?
Following the sudden leading that she had learned no better than to call 'impulse' she said in a quick low whisper: "Eurie, won't you ?" And she held her breath for the answer, and could distinctly feel the beating of her own heart. Eurie turned great gray astonished eyes on her friend, and said in a firm quiet voice: "I have. I settled that matter on Saturday. Have you?" And then those two girls, each with the wonderful surprise ringing music in her heart, were willing to have that meeting over.
