THE BEGINNINGS
BUT let us come to the opening session of the Assembly, destined to
greater fortune and fame than even its founders at that time dreamed. It
was named "The Sunday School Teachers' Assembly," for the wider field of
general education then lay only in the depths of one founder's mind. For
the sake of history, let us name the officers of this first Assembly.
They were as follows:
Chairman--Lewis Miller, Esq., of Akron, Ohio.
Department of Instruction--Rev. John H. Vincent, D.D., of New
York.
Department of Entertainment--Rev. R. W. Scott, Mayville, N. Y.
Department of Supplies--J. E. Wesener, Esq., Akron, Ohio.
Department of Order--Rev. R. M. Warren, Fredonia, N. Y.
Department of Recreation--Rev. W. W. Wythe, M.D., Meadville,
Pa.
Sanitary Department--J. C. Stubbs, M.D., Corry, Pa.
The property of the Camp Meeting Association, leased for the season to
the Assembly, embraced less than one fourth of the present dimensions of
Chautauqua, even without the golf course and other property outside the
gates. East and west it extended as it does now from the Point and the
Pier to the public highway. But on the north where Kellogg Memorial Hall
now stands was the boundary indicated by the present Scott Avenue,
though at that time unmarked. The site of Normal Hall and all north of
it were outside the fence. And on the south its boundary was the winding
way of Palestine Avenue. The ravine now covered by the Amphitheater was
within the bounds, but the site of the Hotel Athenaeum was without the
limit.
He who rambles around Chautauqua in our day sees a number of large,
well-kept hotels, and many inns and "cottages" inviting the visitor to
comfortable rooms and bountiful tables. But in those early days there
was not one hotel or boarding-house at Fair Point. Tents could be
rented, and a cottager might open a room for a guest, but it was
forbidden to supply table board for pay. Everybody, except such as did
their own cooking, ate their meals at the dining-hall, which was a long
tabernacle of rough unpainted boards, with a leaky roof, and backless
benches where the feeders sat around tables covered with oilcloth. And
as for the meals--well, if there was high thinking at Chautauqua there
was certainly plain living. Sometimes it rained, and D.D.'s, LL.D.'s,
professors, and plain people held up umbrellas with one hand and tried
to cut tough steaks with the other. But nobody complained at the fare,
for the feast of reason and flow of soul made everybody forget burnt
potatoes and hard bread.
[Illustration: Lewis Miller, Cottage and Tent]
[Illustration: Bishop Vincent's Tent-Cottage]
What is now Miller Park, the level ground and lovely grove at the foot
of the hill, was then the Auditorium, where stood a platform and desk
sheltered from sun on some days and rain on others. Before it was an
array of seats, lacking backs, instead of which the audience used their
own backbones. Perhaps two thousand people could find sitting-room under
the open sky, shaded by the noble trees. A sudden shower would shoot up
a thousand umbrellas. One speaker said that happening to look up from
his manuscript he perceived that an acre of toadstools had sprouted in a
minute. At the lower end of this park stood the tent wherein Dr. Vincent
dwelt during many seasons; at the upper end was the new cottage of the
Miller family with a tent frame beside it for guests. At this Auditorium
all the great lectures were given for the first four years of
Chautauqua history, except when continued rain forbade. Then an
adjournment, sometimes hasty, was made to a large tent up the hill,
known as the Tabernacle.
One day, during the second season of the Assembly in 1875, Professor
William F. Sherwin, singer, chorus leader, Bible teacher, and wit of the
first water, was conducting a meeting in the Auditorium. The weather had
been uncertain, an "open and shut day," and people hardly knew whether
to meet for Sherwin's service in the grove or in the tent on the hill.
Suddenly a tall form, well known at Chautauqua, came tearing down the
hill and up the steps of the platform, breathless, wild-eyed, with mop
of hair flying loose, bursting into the professor's address with the
words, "Professor Sherwin, I come as a committee of fifty to invite you
to bring your meeting up to the Tabernacle, safe from the weather, where
a large crowd is gathered!" "Well," responded Sherwin, "you may be a
committee of fifty, but you look like sixty!" And from that day ever
after at Chautauqua a highly respected gentleman from Washington, D.C.,
was universally known as "the man who looks like sixty."
When we speak of Sherwin, inevitably we think of Frank Beard, the
cartoonist, whose jokes were as original as his pictures. He would draw
in presence of the audience a striking picture, seemingly serious, and
then in a few quick strokes transform it into something absurdly funny.
For instance, his "Moses in the Bulrushes" was a beautiful baby
surrounded by waving reeds. A sudden twist of the crayon, and lo, a wild
bull was charging at the basket and its baby. This was "The Bull
Rushes." Beard was as gifted with tongue as with pen, and in the
comradeship of the Chautauqua platform he and Sherwin were continually
hurling jokes at each other. Oftentimes the retort was so pat that one
couldn't help an inward question whether the two jesters had not
arranged it in advance.
Frank Beard used to hold a question drawer occasionally. There was a
show of collecting questions from the audience, but those to be answered
had been prepared by Mr. Beard and his equally witty wife, and written
on paper easily recognized. One by one, these were taken out, read with
great dignity, and answered in a manner that kept the crowd in a roar.
On one occasion Professor Sherwin was presiding at Mr. Beard's question
drawer--for it was the rule that at every meeting there must be a
chairman as well as the speaker. The question was drawn out, "Will Mr.
Beard please explain the difference between a natural consequence and a
miracle?" Mr. Beard _did_ explain thus: "This difficult question can be
answered by a very simple illustration. There is Professor Sherwin. If
Professor Sherwin says to me, 'Mr. Beard, lend me five dollars,' and I
should let him have it, that would be a _natural consequence_. If
Professor Sherwin should ever pay it back, _that_ would be a miracle!"
It is needless to say that the opportunity soon arrived for Mr. Sherwin
to repay Mr. Beard for full value of debt with abundant interest.
Mention has been made that at each address or public platform meeting a
chairman must be in charge. In the old camp-meeting days all the
ministers had been wont to sit on the platform behind the preacher; and
some of them could not reconcile themselves to Dr. Vincent's rule that
_only_ the chairman and the speaker of the hour should occupy "the
preachers' stand." Notwithstanding repeated announcements, some
clergymen continued to invade the platform. The head of the Department
of Order once pointed to a well-known minister and said to the writer,
"Four times I have told that man--and a good man he is--that he must not
take a seat on the platform." Whoever casts his eyes on the platform of
the Amphitheater may notice that before every public service, the
janitor places just the number of chairs needed, and no more. This is
one of the Chautauqua traditions, begun under the Vincent regime.
Before we come to the more serious side of our story let us notice
another instance of the contrast between the camp meeting and
Chautauqua. A widely known Methodist came, bringing with him a box of
revival song-books, compiled by himself. He was a leader of a "praying
band," and accustomed to hold meetings where the enthusiasm was pumped
up to a high pitch. One Sunday at a certain hour he noticed that the
Auditorium in the grove was unoccupied; and gathering a group of friends
with warm hearts and strong voices, he mounted the platform and in
stentorian tones began a song from his own book. The sound brought
people from all the tents and cottages around, and soon his meeting was
in full blast, with increasing numbers responding to his ardent appeals.
Word came to Dr. Vincent who speedily marched into the arena. He walked
upon the platform, held up his hand in a gesture compelling silence, and
calling upon the self-appointed leader by name, said:
"This meeting is not on the program, nor appointed by the authorities,
and it cannot be held."
"What?" spoke up the praying-band commander. "Do you mean to say that we
can't have a service of song and prayer on these grounds?"
"Yes," replied Dr. Vincent, "I do mean it. No meeting of any kind can be
held without the order of the authorities. You should have come to me
for permission to hold this service."
The man was highly offended, gathered up his books, and left the grounds
on the next day. He would have departed at once, but it was Sunday, and
the gates were closed. Let it be said, however, that six months later,
when he had thought it over, he wrote to Dr. Vincent an ample apology
for his conduct and said that he had not realized the difference between
a camp meeting and a Sunday School Assembly. He ended by an urgent
request that Dr. Vincent should come to the camp ground at Round Lake,
of which he was president, should organize and conduct an assembly to be
an exact copy of Chautauqua in its program and speakers, with all the
resources of Round Lake at his command. His invitation was accepted. In
due time, with this man's loyal support, Dr. Vincent organized and set
in motion the Round Lake Assembly, upon the Chautauqua pattern, which
continues to this day, true to the ideals of the founder.
One unique institution on the Fair Point of those early days must not be
omitted--the Park of Palestine. Following the suggestion of Dr.
Vincent's church lawn model of the Holy Land, Dr. Wythe of Meadville, an
adept in other trades than physic and preaching, constructed just above
the pier on the lake shore a park one hundred and twenty feet long, and
seventy-five feet wide, shaped to represent in a general way the contour
of the Holy Land. It was necessary to make the elevations six times
greater than longitudinal measurements; and if one mountain is made six
times as large as it should be, some other hills less prominent in the
landscape or less important in the record must be omitted. The lake was
taken to represent the Mediterranean Sea, and on the Sea-Coast Plain
were located the cities of the Philistines, north of them Joppa and
Caesarea, and far beyond them on the shore, Tyre and Sidon. The Mountain
Region showed the famous places of Israelite history from Beersheba to
Dan, with the sacred mountains Olivet and Zion, Ebal and Gerizim having
Jacob's Well beside them, Gilboa with its memories of Gideon's victory
and King Saul's defeat, the mountain on whose crown our Lord preached
his sermon, and overtopping all, Hermon, where he was transfigured. From
two springs flowed little rills to represent the sources of the River
Jordan which wound its way down the valley, through the two lakes, Merom
and the Sea of Galilee, ending its course in the Dead Sea. There were
Jericho and the Brook Jabbok, the clustered towns around the Galilean
Sea, and at the foot of Mount Hermon, Caesarea-Philippi. Across the
Jordan rose the Eastern Tableland, with its mountains and valleys and
brooks and cities even as far as Damascus.
As the Assembly was an experiment, and might be transferred later to
other parts of the country, the materials for this Palestine Park were
somewhat temporary. The mountains were made of stumps, fragments of
timber, filled in with sawdust from a Mayville mill, and covered with
grassy sods. But the park constructed from makeshift materials proved
one of the most attractive features of the encampment. Groups of Bible
students might be seen walking over it, notebooks in their hands,
studying the sacred places. A few would even pluck and preserve a spear
of grass, carefully enshrining it in an envelope duly marked. A report
went abroad, indeed, that soil from the Holy Land itself had been spread
upon the park, constituting it a sort of Campo Santo, but this claim was
never endorsed by either its architect or its originator. The park of
Palestine still stands, having been rebuilt several times, enlarged to a
length of 350 feet, and now, as I write, with another restoration
promised.
One fact in this sacred geography must needs be stated, in the interests
of exact truth. In order to make use of the lake shore, north had to be
in the south, and east in the west. Chautauqua has always been under a
despotic though paternal government, and its visitors easily accommodate
themselves to its decrees. But the sun persists in its independence,
rises over Chautauqua's Mediterranean Sea where it should set, and
continues its sunset over the mountains of Gilead, where it should rise.
Dr. Vincent and Lewis Miller could bring to pass some remarkable, even
seemingly impossible, achievements, but they were not able to outdo
Joshua, and not only make the sun stand still, but set it moving in a
direction opposite to its natural course.
In one of his inimitable speeches, Frank Beard said that Palestine Park
had been made the model for all the beds on Fair Point. He slept, as he
asserted, on Palestine, with his head on Mount Hermon, his body
sometimes in the Jordan valley, at other times on the mountains of
Ephraim; and one night when it rained, he found his feet in the Dead
Sea.
In the early days of Chautauqua a tree was standing near Palestine Park,
which invited the attention of every child, and many grown folks. It was
called "the spouting tree." Dr. Wythe found a tree with one branch bent
over near the ground and hollow. He placed a water-pipe in the branch
and sent a current of fresh water through it, so that the tree seemed to
be pouring forth water. At all times a troop of children might be seen
around it. At least one little girl made her father walk down every day
to the wonder, to the neglect of other walks on the Assembly ground.
Afterward at home from an extended tour, they asked her what was the
most wonderful thing that she had seen in her journey. They expected her
to say, "Niagara Falls," but without hesitation she answered, "The tree
that spouted water at Chautauqua." The standards of greatness in the
eyes of childhood differ from those of the grown-up folks.
The true Chautauqua, aided as it was by the features of mirth and
entertainment and repartee, was in the daily program followed diligently
by the assembled thousands. Here is in part the schedule, taken from the
printed report. It was opened on Tuesday evening, August 4, 1874, in the
out-of-doors auditorium, now Miller Park, beginning with a brief
responsive service of Scripture and song, prepared by Dr. Vincent.
Chautauqua clings to ancient customs; and that same service, word for
word, has been rendered every year on the first Tuesday evening in
August, at what is known as "Old First Night."
[Illustration: Old Steamer "Jamestown"]
[Illustration: Oriental House; Museum]
Bishop Vincent afterward wrote of that memorable first meeting:
The stars were out, and looked down through
trembling leaves upon a goodly well-wrapped
company, who sat in the grove, filled with wonder
and hope. No electric light brought platform and
people face to face that night. The old-fashioned
pine fires on rude four-legged stands covered with
earth, burned with unsteady, flickering flame, now
and then breaking into brilliancy by the contact
of a resinous stick of the rustic fireman, who
knew how to snuff candles and how to turn light on
the crowd of campers-out. The white tents around
the enclosure were very beautiful in that evening
light.
At this formal opening on August 4, 1874, brief addresses were given by
Dr. Vincent and by a Baptist, a Presbyterian, a Methodist, and a
Congregational pastor. This opening showed the broad brotherhood which
was to mark the history of Chautauqua.
On the next day, Wednesday, began what might be called the school
sessions of the Assembly. The fourteen days were divided into three
terms. Every morning at 8 o'clock a brief service of prayer and Bible
reading began the day in the auditorium, now Miller Park. At 8:15 during
the first term, August 4th-9th, a conference was held of Normal Class
and Institute conductors, at which reports were rendered of work done,
courses of study, and methods of work, and results obtained. In those
days when training classes for Sunday School teachers were almost
unknown, this series of conferences, attended by hundreds of workers,
proved of infinite value, and set in motion classes in many places. At 9
o'clock, section meetings were held for superintendents and pastors, and
teachers of the different grades, from the primary class to the adult
Bible class.
The Normal Class held its sessions during the second term, from August
10th-13th, and the third term, August 14th-18th. Four classes were held
simultaneously in different tents, with teachers changed each day. At
these classes most of the lessons were on the Bible--its Evidences,
Books and Authors, Geography, History, and Interpretation. The topics
pertaining to the teacher and the class were taken up in the different
conferences. The Normal Class was held to be the core and life of the
Assembly, and everybody was urged to attend its sessions. All whose
names began with letters from A to G were to attend regularly Tent A.
Those with initials from H to M were to go to Tent B, and so on through
the alphabet, to the four Normal Tents. But the students soon found
their favorite teachers, would watch for them, and follow them into
their different tents. There was another infraction of the program. The
blackboard was a new feature in Sunday School work, and not enough
blackboards of good quality had been secured. Some were too small, some
were not black enough, and one was painted with the lines for music. It
is reported that some of the teachers bribed the janitor to provide for
their use the good boards. There is even the tale that a Sunday School
leader was seen stealing a blackboard and replacing it in another's tent
by an inferior one. We humbly trust that this report was false.
That the Normal Class, the conferences, and the lectures on Sunday
School work were taken seriously is shown by the report of the written
examination, held on Monday, August 17th, the day before the Assembly
closed. More than two hundred people sat down in the Tabernacle on the
hill, each furnished with fifty questions on the Bible and the Sunday
School. Twenty or more dropped out, but at the end of the nearly five
hours' wrestling one hundred and eighty-four papers were handed in.
Three of these were marked absolutely perfect, those of the Rev. C. P.
Hard, on his way to India as a missionary, Mr. Caleb Sadler of Iowa, and
the Rev. Samuel McGerald of New York. Ninety-two were excellent, fifty
more were passed, making one hundred and forty-five accepted members of
the Normal Alumni Association; eighteen had their papers returned to be
rewritten after further study, and the lowest fourteen were consigned to
the wastebasket.
The _Western Christian Advocate_ gave a picture of the first normal
examination at Chautauqua, which we republish.
The tent is a very large one, and was plentifully
supplied with benches, chairs, camp-stools, etc.
The spectacle was very imposing. The ladies seemed
a little in the majority. There were two girls
under fifteen, and one boy in his fourteenth year.
Each was provided with paper, and each wore a more
or less silent and thoughtful air. There was no
shuffling, no listlessness, no whispering. The
conductor, with a big stump for his table,
occupied a somewhat central position, ready to
respond to the call of any uplifted hand. We stood
just back of Dr. Vincent, with the scene in full
view. To our right, but a little on the outside of
the tent, were Bishop Simpson and Dr. Thomas M.
Eddy, who remained only a few minutes, as the
latter was compelled to take the ten o'clock train
for New York. On the same side, and a little
nearer to us, were groups of visitors, mostly from
the country adjacent, who gazed in rapt
astonishment at the sight before them, not daring
to inquire the meaning of all this mute array of
paper and pencil. A little to our left was a
lawyer of large experience and almost national
fame, who had removed his hat, collar, coat and
cuffs; just by his side was an ex-State senator;
and a little further on was a boy from Iowa. He
had improvised for his table a small round log,
and had gathered together for the better resting
of his knees, a good-sized pile of dry
beech-leaves. This lad, we learned, had been
studying the Normal course during the last year;
and we further discovered that he succeeded in
answering accurately all but ten or twelve of the
fifty questions, one of the to him insoluble and
incomprehensible being, "What is the relation of
the church to the Sunday School?" Nearly in front
of the conductor were two veteran spectacled
sisters, who at no time whispered to each other,
but kept up a strong thinking and a frequent use
of the pencil. Near these sat a mother and
daughter from Evanston, Illinois, silent and
confident. On the outer row of seats we observed
three doctors of divinity, a theological student,
the president of an Ohio college, a gentleman
connected with the internal revenue, and a lady
principal of a young ladies' seminary, all with
their thinking-caps admirably adjusted.
At the end of an hour and forty minutes a New York
brother, who had been especially active in
sectional work, held up his hand in token of
success, and his paper was passed up to Dr.
Vincent. Shortly afterward another made a similar
signal; but nearly all occupied over three hours
in the work. Over one half attained to
seventy-five or eighty per cent.
Let it be remembered that no matter how long the student was compelled
to remain, even long past the dinner hour, he was not permitted to take
a recess for his midday meal. He must stay to the end, or give up his
examination.
The report of the Assembly shows twenty-two lectures on Sunday School
work, theory, and practice; sectional meetings--nine primary, six
intermediate, one senior, five of pastors and superintendents, eight
normal class and institute conductors' conferences; six Normal Classes
in each of the four tents--twenty-four in all; three teachers' meetings
for preparation of the Sunday School lesson; four Bible readings; three
praise services; two children's meetings; and six sermons. All the
leading Protestant churches were represented; and twenty-five States in
the Union, besides Ontario, Montreal, Nova Scotia, Ireland, Scotland,
and India. Among the preachers we find the names of Dr. H. Clay
Trumbull, editor of the _Sunday School Times_, John B. Gough, Bishops
Simpson and Janes, Dr. James M. Buckley, Dr. Charles F. Deems, Dr. T.
DeWitt Talmage, and four ministers who later became bishops in the
Methodist Episcopal Church:--Drs. H. W. Warren, J. F. Hurst, E. O.
Haven, and C. H. Fowler.
The two Sundays, August 9th and 16th, were golden days in the calendar.
An atmosphere of quiet and peace reigned throughout the grounds. No
steamboats made the air discordant around the pier; the gates were
closed and the steamers sailed by to more welcome stations; no excursion
trains brought curious and noisy throngs of sightseers. Tents and
cottages lay open while their dwellers worshiped under the trees of the
Auditorium, for no one was required to watch against thieves in the
crowd. The world was shut out, and a voice seemed to be saying, "Come ye
yourselves apart and rest awhile."
The day began with a Sunday School graded to embrace both young and old.
The riches of officers and teachers formed an embarrassment. For once,
nay twice (for there were two Sundays), a Superintendent had at call
more instructors than he could supply with classes. On each Sunday the
attendance at the school was fifteen hundred.
At the sunset hour each evening an "Eventide Conference" was held on the
lake side. The dying day, the peaceful surroundings, the calm sheet of
water, the mild air, combined to impart a tone of thoughtful, uplifting
meditation. I have heard old Chautauquans speak many times of the
inspiring spiritual atmosphere breathed in the very air of the first
Chautauqua.
Never before had been brought together for conference and for study so
many leaders in the Sunday School army, representing so large a variety
of branches in the church catholic. And it was not for a day or two days
as in conventions and institutes, but for a solid fortnight of steady
work. The Chautauqua of to-day is a widely reaching educational system,
embracing almost every department of knowledge. But it must not be
forgotten that all this wide realm has grown out of a school to awaken,
instruct, and inspire Sunday School workers. In their conception,
however, the two famous founders realized that all truth, even that
looked upon as secular, is subsidiary, even necessary for successful
teaching of the word of God. Hence with the courses of study and
conferences upon practical details, we find on the program, some
literature and science, with the spice of entertainment and amusement.
The conception of Dr. Vincent was not to locate the Assembly in one
place, but from time to time to hold similar meetings on many camp
grounds, wherever the opportunity arose. There is a suspicion that Lewis
Miller held his own secret purpose to make it so successful on
Chautauqua Lake as to insure its permanent location at Fair Point. That
was a wise plan, for with settlement in one place, buildings could be
erected, and features like Palestine Park could be increased and
improved. Whether it was by a suggestion or a common impulse, on the
last day of the Assembly a meeting was held and a unanimous appeal was
presented to make Fair Point the home of the Assembly. The trustees of
the camp meeting shared in the sentiment and offered to receive new
members representing the Assembly constituency. As a result, the
officiary was reorganized, no longer as a camp meeting but as an
Assembly Board. For two years Fair Point was continued as the name of
the Post Office, although the title "Chautauqua Sunday School Assembly"
was adopted. But soon Fair Point became "Chautauqua" on the list of the
Post Office Department, and the old name lingers only in the memory of
old Chautauquans.
Before we leave that pioneer Chautauqua, we must recall some of its
aspects, which might be forgotten in these later days, at once amusing,
perplexing, and sometimes trying. More steamers, great and small, were
plying Chautauqua's waters than at the present under the steamboat
corporation system. Old Chautauquans will remember that ancient
three-decker, _The Jamestown_, with its pair of stern wheels, labeled
respectively "Vincent" and "Miller." Each steamer was captained by its
owner; and there was often a congestion of boats at the pier, especially
after the arrival of an excursion train. Those were not the days of
standard time, eastern and central, with watches set an hour fast or
slow at certain well-known points. Each boat followed its own standard
of time, which might be New York time, Buffalo or Pittsburgh time, forty
minutes slower, or even Columbus or Cincinnati time, slower still.
Railroads crossing Ohio were required to run on Columbus time. When you
were selecting a steamer from the thirty placards on the bulletin board
at the Fair Point Post office, in order to meet an Erie train at
Lakewood, unless you noticed the time-standard, you might find at the
pier that your steamer had gone forty minutes before, or on arriving at
Lakewood learn that your boat was running on Cincinnati time, and you
were three quarters of an hour late for the train, for even on the Erie
of those days, trains were not _always_ an hour behind time.
Nor was this variety of "time, times, and half-time" all the drawbacks.
When news came that an excursion train was due from Buffalo, every
steamboat on the lake would ignore its time-table and the needs of the
travelers; and all would be bunched at the Mayville dock and around it
to catch the passengers. Or it might be a similar but more tangled
crowd of boats in the Outlet at Jamestown to meet a special train from
Pittsburgh. Haven't I seen a bishop on the Fair Point pier, who _must_
get the train at Lakewood to meet his conference in Colorado, scanning
the landscape with not a boat in sight, all piled up three miles away?
[Illustration: Palestine Park, Looking North
Dead Sea in foreground: Mount Hermon in distance]
[Illustration: Tent-Life in 1875
J. L. Hurlbut, J. A. Worden, Frank Beard, J. L. Hughes]
Nor were the arrangements for freight and baggage in those early years
any more systematic than those for transportation. Although Chautauqua
Lake is on the direct line of travel east and west, between New York and
Chicago, and north and south between Buffalo and Pittsburgh, Fair Point,
the seat of the Assembly, was not a railroad station. Luggage could be
checked only to Jamestown, Lakewood, or Mayville, and thence must be
sent by boat. Its destination might be indicated by a tag or a chalk
mark, or it might remain unmarked. Imagine a steamer deck piled high
with trunks, valises, bundles of blankets, furniture, tent equipment,
and things miscellaneous, stopping at a dozen points along the lake to
have its cargo assorted and put ashore--is it strange that some baggage
was left at the wrong place, and its owner wandered around looking
vainly for his property? One man remarked that the only way to be sure
of your trunk was to sit on it; but what if your trunk was on the top
or at the bottom of a pile ten feet high? Considering all the
difficulties and discomforts of those early days--travel, baggage, no
hotels nor boarding houses, a crowded dining hall with a hungry
procession outside perhaps in the rain waiting for seats at the tables,
the food itself none of the best--it is surprising that some thousands
of people not only found the Assembly, but stayed to its conclusion,
were happy in it, lived in an enchanted land for a fortnight, and
resolved to return the very next year! More than this, they carried its
enthusiasm and its ideals home with them and in hundreds of places far
apart, the Sunday Schools began to assume a new and higher life. Some
time after this, but still early in Chautauqua's history, a prominent
Sunday School man expressed to the writer his opinion that "people who
came home from Chautauqua became either a mighty help or a mighty
nuisance. They brought with them more new ideas than could be put into
operation in ten years; and if they couldn't get them, one and all,
adopted at once they kicked and growled incessantly."
Before we leave the Assembly of 1874, we must not forget to name one of
its most powerful and far-reaching results--the Woman's Christian
Temperance Union. This assembly was held soon after the great crusade
of 1874 in Ohio, when multitudes of women, holding prayer meetings on
the sidewalk in front of liquor saloons literally prayed thousands of
them out of existence. While the fire of the crusade was still burning,
a number of women held meetings at Chautauqua during the Assembly, and
took counsel together concerning the best measures to promote the
temperance reform. They united in a call signed by Mrs. Mattie McClellan
Brown, Mrs. Jennie Fowler Willing, Mrs. Emily Huntington Miller, and
others, for a convention of women to be held in Cleveland, Ohio,
November 17, 1874. At this convention, sixteen States were represented,
and the national Woman's Christian Temperance Union was organized, an
institution which did more than any other to form public sentiment, to
make State after State "dry," and finally to establish nation-wide
constitutional prohibition. It may not be generally known that this
mighty movement began at the first Chautauqua Assembly.