"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."
And even in that moment of horror at the unexpected news, Dr. Bruce
understood what the Bishop had promised to do.