Why, here in Christian Chicago the will of G.o.d is no more heeded by the majority than that of the Emperor of China, and the Bible might as well be the Koran. Looking at these facts from my impartial standpoint, I am driven to one of two alternatives: either you regard your G.o.d as so kind and good, so merciful, that you can trespa.s.s on His forbearance to any extent, and treat Him with a neglect and an indifference that none would manifest toward the pettiest earthly potentate, and still all will be well; or else you have no real practical belief in your religion. Though not very charitably inclined, I cannot think quite so meanly of human nature as to take the former view, so I am driven to the latter. For surely no man who wished to live and prosper, no woman who loved her husband and children, could so coolly and continually disregard the Deity in whom they profess to believe, with the old Greek poet, that they "live, move, and have their being.""
The twilight deepened, and Christine continued, her words, portraying the decline of faith, according ominously with the increasing gloom.
"Why, in order to see the truth of what I am saying, look at the emblem of your faith--the Cross. All its historical a.s.sociations are those of self-denial, and suffering for others. The Founder of your faith endured death upon it. He was a great, good man like Socrates, though no doubt a mistaken enthusiast. But what He meant He said plainly and clearly, as, for instance, "Whosoever doth not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple." I admit that in the past He had a wonderful following. In the ages of martyrdom mult.i.tudes left all, and endured all that He did, for His sake. But so there have been other great leaders with equally devoted followers. But in this practical age religious enthusiasm has but little chance. What crosses do the members of the Church of the Holy Virgin take up? and what are borne by your great rich church, Miss Winthrop? The shrewd people of this day manage better, and put their crosses on the top of the church. I suppose they reason that the stone tower can carry it for the whole congregation, on the principle of a labor-saving machine. But, honestly, your modern disciples are no more like their Master than one of the pale, slim, white-kidded gentlemen who will be here to-night is like Richard Coeur de Lion as he led a charge against the Moslems. Your cross is dwindling to a mere pretty ornament--an emblem of a past that is fast fading from men"s memories. It will never have the power to inspire the heart again, as when the Crusaders--"
At that moment their eyes were blinded by a sudden, dazzling light.
There was a general and startled exclamation, and then, awe-struck and silent, they gazed as if spellbound upon a luminous cross blazing before them.
CHAPTER XXII
EQUAL TO AN EMERGENCY
The fiery cross that so awed Christine and her little group of auditors was to be the closing scene of the evening entertainment. It was of metal, and by a skilful adjustment of jets was made to appear as if all aflame. While the others were intent on Christine"s words, and she in the interest of her theme had quite forgotten him, Dennis made all his arrangements, and at the critical point narrated in the preceding chapter he turned on the gas with the most startling effect.
It seemed a living, vivid refutation of Christine"s words, and even she turned pale. After a moment, for the emblem to make its full impression, Dennis stepped out before them all, his face lighted up by the luminous cross. They admitted that no crusader could look more earnest and brave than he.
"Miss Ludolph," he said, in a firm, yet respectful tone, "I should evermore be unworthy of your respect and confidence--what is more, I should be false to myself, false to my faith--should I remain silent in view of what I have been compelled to hear. That sacred emblem has not spent its meaning, or its power. Millions to-day would die for the sake of Him who suffered on it. Many even of those weak, inconsistent ones that you have so justly condemned would part with life rather than with the faint hope that centres there," pointing to the radiant symbol.
"You are rude, sir," said Christine, her face pale, but her eyes flashing in turn.
"No, he is right! he is right!" exclaimed Miss Winthrop, springing up with tears in her eyes. "Undeserving as I am of the name of Christian, I would die, I know I would die, before I would give up my poor little hope--though I confess you make me fear that it is a false one. But it"s the best I have, and I mean it shall be better. I think a good touch of persecution, that would bring people out, would do the church more good than anything else.
"Pardon me, Miss Ludolph," continued Dennis; "but I appeal to your sense of justice. Could I be a true man and be silent, believing what I do? Could I hear the name of my Best Friend thus spoken of, and say not one word in His behalf?"
"But I spoke most highly of the Christ of the Bible."
"You spoke of Him as a great, good, but mistaken _man_, an enthusiast.
To me He is the mighty G.o.d, my Divine Saviour, to whom I owe infinitely more than life. You know that I mean no disrespect to you," he added, with gentle but manly courtesy. "I regret more deeply than words can express that you honestly think as you do. But if I as honestly believe the Bible, am I not acting as you said a true follower ought? For I a.s.sure you it is a heavier cross than you can ever know to speak thus unbidden where I am regarded only as a serving-man. But should I not be false and cowardly if I held my peace? And if you afterward should know that I claimed the name of Christian, would you not despise me as you remembered this scene?"
Christine bit her lip and hesitated, but her sense of justice prevailed, and she said, "I not only pardon you, but commend your course in view of your evident sincerity."
Dennis replied by a low bow.
At this moment there was a loud ring at the door.
"There come the gentlemen," exclaimed Miss Brown. "I am so glad! Oh, dear! what a long, uncomfortable preachment we have had! Now for some fun!"
The colorless young ladies had stared first at Christine, and then at the cross, in blank amazement.
At the word "gentlemen" they were all on the alert and ready for _real_ life; but Miss Winthrop left the room for a short time.
A handsome, lively youth entered, scattering bows and compliments on every side with the off-hand ease of an accomplished society man. He paid no heed to Dennis, evidently regarding him as the showman.
"Well, ladies, you have done your part," he said; "your arrangements seem complete."
"Yes, Mr. Mellen; but where is our tenor?" asked Christine. "We have only three-quarters of an hour for music rehearsal, before we must retire to dress for our parts."
"Bad news for you, Miss Ludolph," said Mr. Mellen, coming to her side; "Archer is sick and can"t come."
"Can"t come?" they all exclaimed in dismayed chorus.
"What is the matter?" asked Miss Winthrop, anxiously, coming in at that moment.
"Matter enough," said Miss Brown, poutingly; "that horrid Archer has gone and got sick, I do believe he did it on purpose. He did not know his parts near as well as he ought, and he has taken this way to get out of it."
"But he promised me he would study them all the morning," said Christine. "Oh, I am so sorry! What shall we do? Our entertainment seems fated to be a failure;" and she spoke in a tone of deep disappointment.
"I a.s.sure you I feel the deepest sympathy for you," said Mr. Mellen, looking tenderly at Christine, "but I did my best. I tried to drag Archer here out of his sick-bed, and then I ran around among some other good singers that I know, but none would venture. They said the music was difficult, and would require much practice, and that now is impossible."
"Oh, isn"t it too bad?" mourned Miss Winthrop. "The programme is all printed, and the people will be so disappointed! We can"t have that splendid duet that you and Mr. Archer were to sing, Christine. I have a score of friends who were coming to hear that alone."
"Oh, as for that matter, half our music is spoiled," said Christine, dejectedly. "Well, this is the last time I attempt anything of the kind. How in the world we are going to get out of this sc.r.a.pe I do not know. The tickets are so high, and so much has been said, that the people are expecting a great deal, and there is every prospect of a most lame and impotent conclusion."
A general gloom settled upon the faces of all. At this moment Dennis stepped forward hesitatingly and said to Christine, "Have you the music that Mr. Archer was to sing?"
"Certainly! do you suppose it was of the kind that he could extemporize?" said Miss Brown, pertly.
"Will you let me see it? If you are willing, perhaps I can a.s.sist you in this matter."
All turned toward him with a look of great surprise.
"What do you think of that from the man who sweeps Mr. Ludolph"s store?"
asked Miss Brown, in a loud whisper.
"I think the fellow is as presuming as he is ignorant," said Mr. Mellen, so plainly that all heard him.
"It is not presuming, sir, to offer a kindness where it is needed,"
said Dennis, with dignity, "and my ignorance is not yet proved. The presumption is all on your part."
Mr. Mellen flushed and was about to answer angrily when Miss Winthrop said hastily, but in a kindly tone, "But really, Mr. Fleet, much of our music is new and very difficult."
"But it is written, is it not?" asked Dennis, with a smile.
Christine looked at him in silent wonder. What would he not do next?
But she was sorry that he had spoken, for she foresaw only mortification for him.
"Oh, give him the music by all means," said Miss Brown, expecting to enjoy his blundering attempts to sing what was far beyond him. "There, I will play the accompaniment. It"s not the tune of Old Hundred that you are to sing now, young man, remember."
Dennis glanced over the music, and she began to play a loud, difficult piece.
He turned to Miss Ludolph, and said: "I fear you have given me the wrong music. Miss Brown is playing something not written here."
They exchanged significant glances, and Miss Winthrop said, "Play the right music, Miss Brown."
She struck into the music that Dennis held, but played it so out of time that no one could sing it. Dennis laid down his sheets on the piano and said quietly, though with flushed face: "I did not mean to be obtrusive. You all seemed greatly disappointed at Mr. Archer"s absence and the results, and I thought that in view of the emergency it would not be presumption to offer my services. But it seems that I am mistaken."