Barriers Burned Away Page 22

  CHAPTER XXI

  CHRISTINE'S IDEA OF CHRISTIANS

  The large apartment where the amateur performers expected to win theirlaurels was now filled with all the paraphernalia needed to producemusical, artistic, and scenic effects. Much had been gathered beforeDennis's arrival, and his cart-load added all that was necessary.Everything seemed in inextricable confusion.

  "The idea of having anything here to-night!" exclaimed Miss Winthrop."It will take us a week to get things arranged."

  "The thing is hopeless," said the blank young ladies.

  Even Christine looked somewhat dismayed, but she said, "Remember wehave till half-past eight."

  "I will call two or three of the servants," said Miss Brown.

  "I beg of you do not, at least not yet," exclaimed Christine. "Whatwill their clumsy hands do in work like this, but mar everything. Ihave great faith in Mr. Fleet's abilities," she continued, turningtoward Dennis, with an enchanting smile, and resuming the tactics ofthe morning. Though the smile went to Dennis's heart like a fieryarrow, his pride, thoroughly aroused, made him cold and self-possessed.He naturally assumed the manner possible only to the true gentlemanwho, though wronged, chooses not to show his feelings save by a grave,quiet dignity. In view of their action and manner, he consciously felthimself their superior; and this impression, like an atmosphere, wasfelt by them also. As they looked upon his tall, erect form, manlybearing, and large dark eyes, in which still lurked the fire of anhonest indignation, they felt the impossibility of ordering him aboutlike Mapes the carman. They regarded him for a moment in awkwardsilence, not knowing what to do or say. Even haughty Christine wasembarrassed, for the stronger spirit was present and thoroughly aroused,and it overpowered the weaker natures. Christine had never seen Dennislook like that, and did not know that he could. He was so differentfrom the eager, humble servitor that heretofore had interpreted hervery wishes, even before they were spoken! Moreover, the success oftheir entertainment now depended upon him, and she felt that he wasin a mood requiring delicate treatment, and that she could not orderhim around in the role to which she had assigned him. And yet if shehad known him, she might, for he had made up his mind to go througheven the most menial service with proud humility, and then be carefulnot to be so caught again; and, when Dennis had resolved upon a thing,that settled the question so far as he was concerned. Seeing Christine'shesitation and embarrassment, he stepped forward and said: "MissLudolph, if you will indicate _your_ wishes I will carry them out asrapidly as possible. I can soon bring order out of this confusion; andyou must have some plan of arrangement."

  She gave him a quick, grateful glance, that thawed more of his icethan he cared to have melt so quickly.

  "Of course we have," said she. "This is but the nervous hesitationbefore the shock of a battle that has all been planned on paper. Hereis our programme."

  "All battles do not go forward in the field as planned on paper, ifmy feeble memory serves me," said Miss Winthrop, maliciously.

  "I grant you that," said Christine, quietly, "and you need not taxyour memory so greatly to prove it."

  She was now very kind and gracious to Dennis, believing that to be thebest policy. It usually is, but she received no special proof of itfrom him: he listened alike to request, suggestion, and compliment.There was nothing sullen or morose in his appearance, nothing resentfulor rude. With the utmost respect he heard all she said, and carriedout her wishes with that deft, graceful promptness in which he had fewequals. At the same time his manner was that of one who thoroughlyrespected himself--that of a refined and cultivated person, who, havingbecome committed to a disagreeable part, performed it with only theprotest of dignified silence.

  As his first step, he cleared a space for action, and arrangedeverything to be in view when needed. The rapidity with which orderemerged from confusion was marvellous to the young ladies.

  Then he took their programme, studied it a few moments, and comparedit with the pictures of the scenes they wished to imitate. He thenarranged for these one after another, placing everything needed withinreach, and where it could readily be seen, making the combinationsbeforehand as far as possible. As he worked so intelligently andskilfully, requiring so few explanations, the young ladies exchangedsignificant glances, and strolled into the front parlor. They mustexpress an opinion.

  "I declare, Christine," said Miss Winthrop, "it is a shame that youdid not introduce him, for he is a gentleman. He works like a captiveprince."

  "How romantic!" gushed the colorless young ladies.

  "Nonsense!" said Miss Brown; "I hate to see any one in his positionputting on such airs."

  As soon as she had seen Dennis fairly at work just like her mother'sservants, or her father's men, she felt that he ought to be treatedas such--riches being Miss Brown's patent of nobility; and she resolvedif possible to lower his ridiculous pride, as she regarded it. MissBrown was a very handsome, stylish girl of a certain type, but she nomore understood Dennis's feelings than she did Sanscrit.

  Christine said nothing, but admitted to herself, with a secret wonder,that Dennis awakened in her a respect, a sort of fear, that no otherman had inspired, save her father. There was something in his manner,though altogether respectful, that made her feel that he was not tobe trifled with. This impression was decidedly heightened when, a fewmoments later, Miss Brown, pursuant of her resolution to lower Dennis'spride, ordered him in an offensive manner to do something for her thathad no connection with the entertainment. At first he acted as if hehad not heard her, but his rising color showed that he had. In spiteof warning glances from Christine and Miss Winthrop, she repeated herrequest in a loud, imperious tone.

  Dennis drew himself up to his full height, and, turning his dark eyesfull upon her, said, firmly, "I am ever ready to _offer_ any servicethat a gentleman can to a lady, but surely I am not your footman."

  "Your pride is ridiculous, sir. You are here to help, and will be paidfor it. This is my house, and I expect persons of your position, whilein it, to do as they are bidden."

  "Since such are the rules and principles of your house, permit me atonce to leave you in full possession;" and he was about to retire witha manner as cold as Mr. Ludolph himself could have assumed, and ashaughty, when a light hand fell upon his arm. Looking down he met thedeep blue eyes of Christine Ludolph lifted pleadingly to his.

  "Mr. Fleet, you need not do what is asked. It is not right to requireit. In fact we all owe you an apology." Then, in a low, quick tone,she added, "Will you not stay as a favor to me?"

  She felt his arm tremble under her hand, there was a moment'shesitation, then he replied, in the same manner, "Miss Ludolph, _you_can command me on _this_ occasion" (there was no promise for thefuture); and then he turned to his work as if resolved to see and knownothing else till the ordeal ended.

  In spite of herself Christine blushed, but taking Miss Brown by the armshe led her aside and gave her a vigorous lecture.

  "Are you sane?" she said. "Do you not remember that nearly a thousanddollars' worth of tickets are sold, and that the people will be hereby half-past eight, and at nine we must appear? Even after what he hasdone, if you should drive him away the thing would be a failure, andwe should be the ridiculous town-talk for a year."

  "But I hate--"

  "No matter what you hate. Treat him as you please tomorrow. We needhim now;" and so the petted, wilful girl, spoiled by money and flattery,was kept under restraint.

  A great deal of preparation was required for the last two pieces onthe programme, and the young ladies grouped themselves not far offwhile Dennis worked. Christine explained from time to time as thenatural leader of the party. Still an awkward silence followed thescene above described. This restraint could not long endure, and oneof the colorless young ladies asked a question that led to more thanshe intended, and indeed, more than she understood.

  "Christine, what do you do with yourself Sundays? Your pew is notoccupied once in an age."

  "I usually paint most of the day, and
ride out with papa in theafternoon when it is pleasant."

  "Why, you are a perfect little heathen!" they all exclaimed in chorus.

  "Yes, I suppose I am worse than a pagan," she said, "for I not onlydo not believe in your superstitions, but have none of my own."

  "What do you believe in, then?" asked Miss Winthrop.

  "Art, music, fame, power."

  She announced her creed so coolly and decidedly that Dennis lifted astartled face to hers. She saw his grieved, astonished expression, andit amused her very much. Henceforth she spoke as much for his benefitas for theirs.

  "If you would be equally honest," she continued, "you would find thatyour creeds also are very different from the one in the prayer-book."

  "And what would mine be, pray," asked one of the colorless young ladies.

  "I will sum it up in one sentence, Miss Jones--'Keep in the fashion.'"

  "I think that you are very unjust. I'm sure I go to church regularly,and attend a great many services in Lent and on Saints' days. I'vebeen confirmed, and all that."

  "Yes, it is the thing to do in your set. Now, here is Miss Winthrop,a Presbyterian, who manifests quite another religious phase."

  "Pray what is mine?" asked that lady, laughing.

  "Oh, you want hair-splitting in regard to the high doctrines--clear,brilliant arguments, cutting like sharp, merciless steel into thebeliefs of other denominations. Then, after your ism has been glorifiedfor an hour on Sunday morning, and all other isms pierced and lashed,you descend from your intellectual heights, eat a good dinner, takea nap, and live like the rest of us till the next Sabbath, when (ifit is a fine day) you climb some other theological peak, far beyondthe limits of perpetual snow, and there take another bird's-eye viewof something that might be found very different if you were nearer toit."

  "And what is my phase?" asked Miss Brown.

  "Oh, you are an out-and-out sinner, and do just what you please, inspite of priest or prayer-book," said Christine, with a laugh in whichall the ladies joined.

  "Well," said Miss Brown, "I do not think that I am worse than the restof you."

  "Not in the least," replied Christine. "We all have some form ofreligion, or none at all, as it accords with our peculiar tastes."

  "And you mean to say that having a religion or not is a mere matterof taste?" asked Miss Winthrop.

  "Yes, I should say it was, and practically that it _is_. You ladies, andnearly all that I have met, seem to choose a style of religion suited toyour tastes; and the tastes of many incline them to have no religion atall."

  "Why, Miss Ludolph!" exclaimed Miss Winthrop, her cheeks glowing withhonest dissent and zeal for the truth; "our religion is taken from theBible. Do you not believe in the Bible?"

  "No! not in the sense in which you ask the question; nor you either,my charming Miss Winthrop."

  "Indeed I do, every word of it," said the orthodox young lady, hotly.

  "Let me test you. Miss Brown, have you such a book in the house? Oh,yes, here is an elegantly bound copy, but looking as if never opened.And now, Miss Winthrop, this city is full of all sorts of horrid people,living in alleys and tenement houses. They are poor, half-naked, hungry,and sometimes starving. Many are in prison, and more ought to be; manyare strangers, more utterly alone and lonely in our crowded streetsthan on a desert island. They are suffering from varieties of disgustingdisease, and having a hard time generally. How many hungry people haveyou fed? How many strangers (I do not mean distinguished ones fromabroad) have you taken in and comforted? How many of the naked haveyou clothed? And how long is your list of the sick and imprisoned thatyou have visited, my luxurious little lady?"

  A real pallor overspread Miss Winthrop's sunny face, for she saw whatwas coming, but she answered, honestly, "I have done practically nothingof all this." Then she added: "Papa and mamma are not willing that Ishould visit such places and people. I have asked that I might, butthey always discourage me, and tell of the awful experiences of thosewho do."

  "Then they don't believe the Bible, either," said Christine; "for ifthey did they would insist on your doing it; and if you believed youwould do all this in spite of them; for see what is written here; thevery Being that you worship and dedicate your churches to will say,because of your not doing this, 'Depart from me, ye cursed, intoeverlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.' And this isbut one of many similar passages. Now all this is a monstrous fableto me. The idea of any such experiences awaiting my light-heartedlittle Sybarite here!"

  Miss Winthrop had buried her face in her hands, and was trembling fromhead to foot. The words of God never seemed so real and true beforeas now when uttered by an unbeliever.

  "I don't believe there is any such place or things," said Miss Brown,bluntly.

  "There spake my mature and thoughtful friend who is not to be imposedupon," said Christine, with a touch of irony in her tone.

  Dennis had listened in sad wonder. Such words of cynical unbelief werein dark, terrible contrast with the fair young face. He saw the mindand training of her father in all she said, but he bitterly condemnedthe worldly, inconsistent life of multitudes in the church who do moreto confirm unbelievers than all their sophistries. But as she went on,seemingly having the argument all her own way, his whole soul burnedto meet and refute her fatal views. For her own sake and the others'as well as for the dishonored name of his Lord, he must in some wayturn the tide. Though regarded as a humble servitor, having no rightto take part in the conversation, he determined that his hands mustlift up the standard of truth if no others would or could. To his joyhe found that the programme would soon give him the coveted opportunity.

  Christine went on with a voice as smooth and musical as the flow ofa stream over a glacier.

  "I have read the Bible several times, and that is more than all of youcan say, I think. It is a wonderful book, and has been the inspirationof some of our best art. There are parts that I enjoy reading verymuch for their sublimity and peculiarity. But who pretends to live asthis old and partially obsolete book teaches? Take my father, forinstance. All the gentlemen in the church that I know of can do, andare accustomed to do, just what he does, and some I think do muchworse; and yet he is an infidel, as you would term him. And as to theladies, not the Bible, but fashion rules them with a rod of iron. Ihave cut free from it all, and art shall be my religion and theinspiration of my life."

  As Christine talked on, the twilight deepened, and Dennis worked withincreasing eagerness.

  "After all," she continued, "it is only history repeating itself. Theeducated mind to-day stands in the same attitude toward Christianityas that of the cultured mind of Greece and Rome toward the oldermythology in the second century. Then as now the form of religion waskept up, but belief in its truth was fast dying out. The cities aboundedin gorgeous temples, and were thronged with worshippers, but theysacrificed at the dictates of fashion, custom, and law, not of faith.So our cities are adorned with splendid churches, and fashion and thetastes of the congregation decide as to the form of service. The sectsdiffer widely with each other, and all differ with the Bible. Theancients gave no more respect to what was regarded as the will of theirimaginary deities than do modern Christians to the precepts of theBible. People went to the ceremonies, got through with them, and thendid what they pleased; and so they do now.

  "Take for instance one of your commonest doctrines, that of prayer;the majority have no practical belief in it. My father has taken me,and out of curiosity I have attended several prayer meetings. Themerest fraction of the congregation are present at the best of times,and if the night is stormy the number out is ridiculously small. Yetall profess to believe that the Lord of heaven and earth will bepresent, and that it is His will that they should be. Your Bible teachesthat the Being who controls completely the destiny of every personwill be in the midst of those gathered in His name, to hear and answertheir petitions. If this is true, then no earthly ruler was every soneglected and insulted, so generally ignored, as this very Deity towhom you
ascribe unlimited power, and from whom you say you receivelife and everything. An eastern despot would take off the heads ofthose who treated him in such a style; and a republican politicianwould scoff at the idea of giving office to such lukewarm followers.Why, here in Christian Chicago the will of God is no more heeded bythe majority than that of the Emperor of China, and the Bible mightas well be the Koran. Looking at these facts from my impartialstandpoint, I am driven to one of two alternatives: either you regardyour God as so kind and good, so merciful, that you can trespass onHis forbearance to any extent, and treat Him with a neglect and anindifference that none would manifest toward the pettiest earthlypotentate, and still all will be well; or else you have no realpractical belief in your religion. Though not very charitably inclined,I cannot think quite so meanly of human nature as to take the formerview, so I am driven to the latter. For surely no man who wished tolive and prosper, no woman who loved her husband and children, couldso coolly and continually disregard the Deity in whom they profess tobelieve, with the old Greek poet, that they 'live, move, and have theirbeing.'"

  The twilight deepened, and Christine continued, her words, portrayingthe decline of faith, according ominously with the increasing gloom.

  "Why, in order to see the truth of what I am saying, look at the emblemof your faith--the Cross. All its historical associations are thoseof self-denial, and suffering for others. The Founder of your faithendured death upon it. He was a great, good man like Socrates, thoughno doubt a mistaken enthusiast. But what He meant He said plainly andclearly, as, for instance, 'Whosoever doth not bear his cross and comeafter Me cannot be My disciple.' I admit that in the past He had awonderful following. In the ages of martyrdom multitudes left all, andendured all that He did, for His sake. But so there have been othergreat leaders with equally devoted followers. But in this practicalage religious enthusiasm has but little chance. What crosses do themembers of the Church of the Holy Virgin take up? and what are borneby your great rich church, Miss Winthrop? The shrewd people of thisday manage better, and put their crosses on the top of the church. Isuppose they reason that the stone tower can carry it for the wholecongregation, on the principle of a labor-saving machine. But, honestly,your modern disciples are no more like their Master than one of thepale, slim, white-kidded gentlemen who will be here to-night is likeRichard Coeur de Lion as he led a charge against the Moslems. Yourcross is dwindling to a mere pretty ornament--an emblem of a past thatis fast fading from men's memories. It will never have the power toinspire 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 andsilent, they gazed as if spellbound upon a luminous cross blazingbefore them.