"I AM
just back from a visit to Raymond," Dr. Bruce began,
"and I want to tell you something of my impressions of
the movement there."
He paused
and his look went out over his people with yearning for them
and at the same time with a great uncertainty at his heart.
How many of his rich, fashionable, refined, luxury-loving
members would understand the nature of the appeal he was
soon to make to them? He was altogether in the dark as to
that. Nevertheless he had been through his desert, and had
come out of it ready to suffer. He went on now after that
brief pause and told them the story of his stay in Raymond.
The people already knew something of that experiment in the
First Church. The whole country had watched the progress of
the pledge as it had become history in so many lives. Mr.
Maxwell had at last decided that the time had come to seek
the fellowship of other churches throughout the country. The
new discipleship in Raymond had proved to be so valuable in
its results that he wished the churches in general to share
with the disciples in Raymond. Already there had begun a
volunteer movement in many churches throughout the country,
acting on their own desire to walk closer in the steps of
Jesus. The Christian Endeavor Society had, with enthusiasm,
in many churches taken the pledge to do as Jesus would do,
and the result was already marked in a deeper spiritual life
and a power in church influence that was like a new birth
for the members.
All this
Dr. Bruce told his people simply and with a personal
interest that evidently led the way to the announcement
which now followed. Felicia had listened to every word with
strained attention. She sat there by the side of Rose, in
contrast like fire beside snow, although even Rose was alert
and as excited as she could be.
"Dear
friends," he said, and for the first time since his
prayer the emotion of the occasion was revealed in his voice
and gesture, "I am going to ask that Nazareth Avenue
Church take the same pledge that Raymond Church has taken. I
know what this will mean to you and me. It will mean the
complete change of very many habits. It will mean, possibly,
social loss. It will mean very probably, in many cases, loss
of money. It will mean suffering. It will mean what
following Jesus meant in the first century, and then it
meant suffering, loss, hardship, separation from everything
un-Christian. But what does following Jesus mean? The test
of discipleship is the same now as then. Those of us who
volunteer in this church to do as Jesus would do, simply
promise to walk in His steps as He gave us
commandment."
Again he
paused, and now the result of his announcement was plainly
visible in the stir that went up over the, congregation. He
added in a quiet voice that all who volunteered to make the
pledge to do as Jesus would do, were asked to remain after
the morning service.
Instantly
he proceeded with his sermon. His text was, "Master, I
will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest." It was a
sermon that touched the deep springs of conduct; it was a
revelation to the people of the definition their pastor had
been learning; it took them back to the first century of
Christianity; above all, it stirred them below the
conventional thought of years as to the meaning and purpose
of church membership. It was such a sermon as a man can
preach once in a lifetime, and with enough in it for people
to live on all through the rest of their lifetime.
The service
closed in a hush that was slowly broken. People rose here
and there, a few at a time. There was a reluctance in the
movements of some that was very striking. Rose, however,
walked straight out of the pew, and as she reached the aisle
she turned her head and beckoned to Felicia. By that time
the congregation was rising all over the church. "I am
going to stay," she said, and Rose had heard her speak
in the same manner on other occasions, and knew that her
resolve could not be changed. Nevertheless she went back
into the pew two or three steps and faced her.
"Felicia,"
she whispered, and there was a flush of anger on her cheeks,
"this is folly. What can you do? You will bring some
disgrace on the family. What will father say? Come!"
Felicia
looked at her but did not answer at once. Her lips were
moving with a petition that came from the depth of feeling
that measured a new life for her. She shocked her head.
"No,
I am going to stay. I shall take the pledge. I am ready to
obey it. You do not know why I am doing this."
Rose gave
her one look and then turned and went out of the pew, and
down the aisle. She did not even stop to talk with her
acquaintances. Mrs. Delano was going out of the church just
as Rose stepped into the vestibule.
"So
you are not going to join Dr. Bruce's volunteer
company?" Mrs. Delano asked, in a queer tone that made
Rose redden.
"No,
are you? It is simply absurd. I have always regarded that
Raymond movement as fanatical. You know cousin Rachel keeps
us posted about it."
"Yes,
I understand it is resulting in a great deal of hardship in
many cases. For my part, I believe Dr. Bruce has simply
provoked disturbance here. It will result in splitting our
church. You see if it isn't so. There are scores of people
in the church who are so situated that they can't take such
a pledge and keep it. I am one of them," added Mrs.
Delano as she went out with Rose.
When Rose
reached home, her father was standing in his usual attitude
before the open fireplace, smoking a cigar.
"Where
is Felicia?" he asked as Rose came in.
"She
stayed to an after-meeting," replied Rose shortly. She
threw off her wraps and was going upstairs when Mr. Sterling
called after her.
"An
after-meeting? What do you mean?"
"Dr.
Bruce asked the church to take the Raymond pledge."
Mr.
Sterling took his cigar out of his mouth and twirled it
nervously between his fingers.
"I
didn't expect that of Dr. Bruce. Did many of the members
stay?"
"I
don't know. I didn't," replied Rose, and she went
upstairs leaving her father standing in the drawing-room.
After a
few moments he went to the window and stood there looking
out at the people driving on the boulevard. His cigar had
gone out, but he still fingered it nervously. Then he turned
from the window and walked up and down the room. A servant
stepped across the hall and announced dinner and he told her
to wait for Felicia. Rose came downstairs and went into the
library. And still Mr. Sterling paced the drawing-room
restlessly.
He had
finally wearied of the walking apparently, and throwing
himself into a chair was brooding over something deeply when
Felicia came in.
He rose
and faced her. Felicia was evidently very much moved by the
meeting from which she had just come. At the same time she
did not wish to talk too much about it. Just as she entered
the drawing-room, Rose came in from the library.
"How
many stayed?" she asked. Rose was curious. At the same
time she was skeptical of the whole movement in Raymond.
"About
a hundred," replied Felicia gravely. Mr. Sterling
looked surprised. Felicia was going out of the room, but he
called to her: "Do you really mean to keep the
pledge?" he asked.
Felicia
colored. Over her face and neck the warm blood flowed and
she answered, "You would not ask such a question,
father, if you had been at the meeting." She lingered a
moment in the room, then asked to be excused from dinner for
a while and went up to see her mother.
No one but
they two ever knew what that interview between Felicia and
her mother was. It is certain that she must have told her
mother something of the spiritual power that had awed every
person present in the company of disciples who faced Dr.
Bruce in that meeting after the morning service. It is also
certain that Felicia had never before known such an
experience, and would never have thought of sharing it with
her mother if it had not been for the prayer the evening
before. Another fact is also known of Felicia's experience
at this time. When she finally joined her father and Rose at
the table she seemed unable to tell them much about the
meeting. There was a reluctance to speak of it as one might
hesitate to attempt a description of a wonderful sunset to a
person who never talked about anything but the weather.
When that
Sunday in the Sterling mansion was drawing to a close and
the soft, warm lights throughout the dwelling were glowing
through the great windows, in a corner of her room, where
the light was obscure, Felicia kneeled, and when she raised
her face and turned it towards the light, it was the face of
a woman who had already defined for herself the greatest
issues of earthly life.
That same
evening, after the Sunday evening service, Dr. Bruce was
talking over the events of the day with his wife. They were
of one heart and mind in the matter, and faced their new
future with all the faith and courage of new disciples.
Neither was deceived as to the probable results of the
pledge to themselves or to the church.
They had
been talking but a little while when the bell rang and Dr.
Bruce going to the door exclaimed, as he opened it: "It
is you, Edward! Come in."
There came
into the hall a commanding figure. The Bishop was of
extraordinary height and breadth of shoulder, but of such
good proportions that there was no thought of ungainly or
even of unusual size. The impression the Bishop made on
strangers was, first, that of great health, and then of
great affection.
He came
into the parlor and greeted Mrs. Bruce, who after a few
moments was called out of the room, leaving the two men
together. The Bishop sat in a deep, easy chair before the
open fire. There was just enough dampness in the early
spring of the year to make an open fire pleasant.
"Calvin,
you have taken a very serious step today," he finally
said, lifting his large dark eyes to his old college
classmate's face. "I heard of it this afternoon. I
could not resist the desire to see you about it
tonight."
"I'm
glad you came." Dr. Bruce laid a hand on the Bishop's
shoulder. "You understand what this means,
Edward?"
"I
think I do. Yes, I am sure." The Bishop spoke very
slowly and thoughtfully. He sat with his hands clasped
together. Over his face, marked with lines of consecration
and service and the love of men, a shadow crept, a shadow
not caused by the firelight. Once more he lifted his eyes
toward his old friend.
"Calvin,
we have always understood each other. Ever since our paths
led us in different ways in church life we have walked
together in Christian fellowship--."
"It
is true," replied Dr. Bruce with an emotion he made no
attempt to conceal or subdue. "Thank God for it. I
prize your fellowship more than any other man's. I have
always known what it meant, though it has always been more
than I deserve."
The Bishop
looked affectionately at his friend. But the shadow still
rested on his face. After a pause he spoke again: "The
new discipleship means a crisis for you in your work. If you
keep this pledge to do all things as Jesus would do--as I
know you will--it requires no prophet to predict some
remarkable changes in your parish." The Bishop looked
wistfully at his friend and then continued: "In fact, I
do not see how a perfect upheaval of Christianity, as we now
know it, can be prevented if the ministers and churches
generally take the Raymond pledge and live it out." He
paused as if he were waiting for his friend to say
something, to ask some question. But Bruce did not know of
the fire that was burning in the Bishop's heart over the
very question that Maxwell and himself had fought out.
"Now,
in my church, for instance," continued the Bishop,
"it would be rather a difficult matter, I fear, to find
very many people who would take a pledge like that and live
up to it. Martyrdom is a lost art with us. Our Christianity
loves its ease and comfort too well to take up anything so
rough and heavy as a cross. And yet what does following
Jesus mean? What is it to walk in His steps?"
The Bishop
was soliloquizing now and it is doubtful if he thought, for
the moment, of his friend's presence. For the first time
there flashed into Dr. Bruce's mind a suspicion of the
truth. What if the Bishop would throw the weight of his
great influence on the side of the Raymond movement? He had
the following of the most aristocratic, wealthy, fashionable
people, not only in Chicago, but in several large cities.
What if the Bishop should join this new discipleship!
The
thought was about to be followed by the word. Dr. Bruce had
reached out his hand and with the familiarity of lifelong
friendship had placed it on the Bishop's shoulder and was
about to ask a very important question, when they were both
startled by the violent ringing of the bell. Mrs. Bruce had
gone to the door and was talking with some one in the hall.
There was a loud exclamation and then, as the Bishop rose
and Bruce was stepping toward the curtain that hung before
the entrance to the parlor, Mrs. Bruce pushed it aside. Her
face was white and she was trembling.
"O
Calvin! Such terrible news! Mr. Sterling--oh, I cannot tell
it! What a blow to those girls!" "What is
it?" Mr. Bruce advanced with the Bishop into the hall
and confronted the messenger, a servant from the Sterlings.
The man was without his hat and had evidently run over with
the news, as Dr. Bruce lived nearest of any intimate friends
of the family.
"Mr.
Sterling shot himself, sir, a few minutes ago. He killed
himself in his bed-room. Mrs. Sterling--"
"I
will go right over, Edward. Will you go with me? The
Sterlings are old friends of yours."'
The Bishop
was very pale, but calm as always. He looked his friend in
the face and answered: "Aye, Calvin, I will go with you
not only to this house of death, but also the whole way of
human sin and sorrow, please God."
