SWORD THRUSTS.
By the next morning it became clear to our girls that a change of
programme was a necessity. Ruth had by no means recovered from her shock
and the sleepless night that followed, and some of the comforts of
invalidism must be found for her. At the same time she utterly
repudiated the idea of Saratoga, which was now urged upon her; it had
lost its charms; neither would she go home.
"I have decided to stay until the _very_ last meeting," she said, with
quiet determination.
Flossy laughed softly; she knew what charms Chautauqua had taken on,
but the others supposed it to be a whim, resulting from the ridicule she
had suffered because of the Saratoga scheme.
After many plans were discussed it was finally decided that Flossy and
Ruth should seek quarters at the hotel in Mayville, Ruth coming over to
the meetings only when her strength and her fancy dictated, and having
some of the luxuries of home about her. It seemed to fall naturally to
Flossy's lot to accompany her; indeed, a barrier was in the way of
either of the others being chosen. The hotel arrangement, when one took
into consideration the numerous boat-rides to and from the ground, was
by no means an economical proceeding, and as Flossy and Ruth were the
only ones who were entirely indifferent to the demands of their purses,
it must of necessity be them.
Neither of them was disposed to demur; there had never been much
congeniality between these two, but they had been friendly, and now
there was a subtle bond of sympathy which made them long to be together.
So, during the next morning hours, those two were engaged in packing
their effects and preparing for a flitting to the Mayville House.
Meantime Marion and Eurie, having stood around and looked on until they
were tired, departed in search of something to interest them.
"It is too early for meeting," Marion said. "There is nothing of
interest until 11 o'clock. I'm sorry we missed Mrs. Clark. I like to
look at her and listen to her; she is just bubbling over with
enthusiasm. One can see that she thinks she means it. If I were a
Sunday-school teacher I should be glad I was here, to hear her. I think
it has been about the most helpful thing I have heard thus far; helpful
to those who indulge in that sort of work, I mean."
"I wonder what those normal classes are like?" Eurie said, studying her
programme. "We haven't been to one of those, have we? What do you
suppose they do?"
Marion shrugged her shoulders.
"They are like work," she said. "'Working hours,' they are named; and I
suppose some hard thinking is done. If I didn't have to teach school six
hours out of every day at home I might be tempted to go in and listen to
them; but I came here to play, you see, and to make money; they are not
good to report about. People who stay at home and read the reported
letters don't want to hear anything about the actual _work_; they want
to know who the speaker was and how he looked, and whether his gestures
were graceful, and--if it is a lady--above all, how she was dressed; if
they say anything remarkably sarcastic or irresistibly funny you may
venture to report it, but not otherwise, consequently reporting is easy
work, if you have not too much conscience, because what you didn't see
you can make up."
At the end of this harangue she paused suddenly before a tent, whence
came the sound of a firm and distinct voice.
"What is this?" she said, and then she lifted a bit of the canvas and
peeped in. "I'm going in here, after all," she said, withdrawing her
head and explaining. "This is a normal class, I guess. That man from
Philadelphia--what is his name? Tyler? Yes, that is it--J. Bennet
Tyler--is leading. I like him; I like his voice ever so much; he makes
you hear, whether you want to or not. Then, someway, you get a kind of
a notion that he not only believes what he says but that he _knows_ it
is so, and that is all there is about it. I like to meet such people now
and then, because they are so rare. Generally people act as though you
could coax them out of their notions in about twenty minutes if you
tried--when they are talking about religious subjects, I mean. Obstinacy
is not so rare a trait where other matters are concerned. Let's go in."
"What is the subject this morning?" Eurie asked, following her guide
around to the entrance, somewhat reluctantly. She was in no mood for
shutting herself inside a tent, and being obliged to listen whether she
wanted to or not. But Marion was in one of her positive moods this
morning, and must either be followed or deserted altogether.
Mr. Tyler was reading from a slip of paper as they entered. This was the
sentence he read:
"Difficulties in interpretation which arise from certain mental
peculiarities of the student. Some minds, and not by any means the
strongest or noblest, must always see the _reason_ for everything."
Marion gave Eurie a sagacious nod of the head.
"Don't you see?" she said. "Now, by the peculiar way in which he read
that, he made believe it was _me_ he meant. And, by the way, I'm not
sure but he is correct. I must say that I like a reason for things. But
what right has he to say that _that_ is an indication of a weak mind?"
"He didn't say so," whispered Eurie.
"Oh, yes he did; it amounted to that. There is where his peculiar use of
words comes in. That man has _studied_ words until he handles them as if
they were foot-balls, and were to go exactly where he sent them."
"He is looking this way. The next thing you know he will throw some at
us for whispering."
This was Ernie's attempt to quiet Marion's tongue. That or some other
influence had the desired effect. She whispered no more, and it was
apparent in a very few minutes that she had become intensely interested
in the theme and in the way it was being handled. An eager examination
of the programme disclosed what she began to suspect, that the subject
was, "Difficulties in the Bible." Her intellectual knowledge of the
Bible was considerable; and having read it ever since she could
remember, with the express purpose of finding difficulties, it was not
surprising that she had found them.
Something, either in the leader's manner of drawing out answers, or the
peculiar emphasis with which he contrived to invest certain words, had
the effect to cause Marion to feel as though she had been very
superficial in her reasoning and childish in her objections. She grew
eager; her brain, accustomed to work rapidly and follow trains of thought
closely, enjoyed the keen play of thought that was being drawn forth.
But there was more than that; almost unconsciously to herself this
subject was assuming vital proportions to her; she did not even herself
realize the intensity of the cry in her heart, "If I only _knew_ whether
these were so!" Presently the voice which had once before struck her as
being so peculiar in its personality sounded distinctly down the long
tent.
"Remember the conditions under which the Bible promise clear
apprehension of the truth."
It chanced--at least that is the way in which we use language--it
chanced that Mr. Tyler's eyes as he repeated these words rested on
Marion. Speaking of it afterward she said:
"So far as the impression made on me was concerned, it was the same as
though he had said: 'Do you understand what an idiot you have been not
to take that cardinal point into consideration at all? Open your Bible
and read, and see how like a weak-minded babe you are.'"
Beside her lay a Bible just dropped by some one who had been called out.
Following out the impulse of the moment she turned to the reference, and
her clear voice gave it distinctly:
"If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine whether it
be of God or whether I speak of myself."
The effect of this simple, straightforward and reasonable proposition,
on sounding back to her spoken by her own voice, was tremendous. Very
little more of the talk did she hear. A thrust, from God's own sword had
reached her. What a fool she had been! What right had she to presume to
give an opinion before applying the test? Had not the most common-place
statements a right to be tried by their own tests? Yet she had never
given this simple direction a thought.
So this was the Bible promise? "He _shall_ know." Not that these things
are so, but a more logical, more satisfactory statement to the natural
heart. He shall judge for himself whether these things be so; follow the
directions, and then judge by your experiences after that whether these
things be true or false. Could anything be more reasonable?
"I shall never dare to say that I don't believe the Bible again, for
fear some one will ask me whether I have applied the test, and if I have
not what business have I to judge. That man now, if I should come in
contact with him, which I shall endeavor not to do, would be sure to ask
me. He has almost the same as asked it now, before all these people. He
has a mysterious way of making me feel as though he was talking for my
confusion and for nobody else."
This Marion told to herself as she eyed the leader, half sullenly. He
had strangely disturbed her logic and set her refuge in ruins.
"Let's go," she said suddenly to Eurie. "I am tired of this; I have had
enough, and more than enough." But the hour was over, and she had had
all that was to be secured from that source.
All the younger portion of the congregation seemed to be rushing back up
the hill again, and inquiry developed the fact that Mrs. Clark was to
meet the primary workers in the large tent. It was wonderful how many
people chose to consider themselves primary workers? At least they
rushed to this meeting, a great army of them, as though their one object
in life, was to learn how successfully to teach the little ones. Our
girls all met together in the tent. Ruth and Flossy had finished their
preparations, but had concluded to wait until afternoon service.
"I declare if _you_ are not armed with a pencil and paper. Have you been
seized with a mania for taking notes?" This Eurie said to Ruth. "Now I'm
going to get out _my_ note book too. Here is a card--it will hold all I
care to write I dare say. Let me see, who knows but I shall go to
teaching in Sabbath-school one of these days! I am going to make a list
of the things which according to Mrs. Clark, we shall need."
True to her new fancy, she scribbled industriously during the session,
and showed her card with glee as they left the tent.
"I've a complete list," she said. "If any of you go into the business I
can supply you with the names of the necessary tools. Look!
"A blackboard.
"A picture roll.
"A punch!
"Cards.
"Brains!
"Blank book.
"Children.
"More brains!
"That last item," she said, reflectively, "is the hardest to find. I had
no idea so much of that material was necessary. Now let me see what is
on your papers." This even Marion stoutly resisted. And Flossy quietly
hid hers in her pocket, saying with a smile:
"Mine is simply a list of things needful for such work."
If she had shown her paper it would have astonished Eurie, and it might
have done her good. This was what she had written:
"What I need in order to be a successful teacher.
"Such a forgetfulness of self as shall lead me to think only of the
little ones and their needs.
"Such a love for Christ as shall lead me to long after every little soul
to lead it to him."
As for Marion her paper contained simply this sentence, carefully
written out in German text as if she had deliberated over each letter;
"If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it
be of God."
They went in a body to hear Dr. Hatfield.
"I want that lecture," Marion said, "'Perils of the Hour.' I'm very
anxious to know what my peril is. I know just what is hovering over
every one of you, but I can't quite make up my mind as to my own state.
Perhaps the distinguished gentleman can help me."
And he did. He had selected for one of the perils that which was
embodied in the following ringing sentence:
"The third peril is the prevelancy of skepticism. A class of scientists
have discovered that there is no God! What the fool said in his _heart_
they proclaimed on the house-top!"
Eurie looked over at her, smiling and mischievous, and said in anything
but a softly whisper, "That means you, my dear."
But Marion did not hear her; she was absorbed in the intense scathing
sentences that followed. Of one thing she presently felt assured, that
whoever was right or whoever was wrong in this matter, Dr. Hatfield
believed with all the intensity of an intense educated intellect that
God ruled. Was it probable that he had met the condition, done his will,
and so _knew_ of the doctrine? That was an hour to be remembered. Eurie
ceased to whisper or to frolic; there was too much intensity, about the
speaker's manner not to claim her attention. She listened as she was not
in the habit of listening. She could give you a detailed account even
now of that hour of thought; so could I, and I am awfully tempted; but,
you see, it is only Tuesday, and the girls have six more days to spend
at Chautauqua.
Both Ruth and Flossy got their crumb to think over. They discussed it at
the hotel that evening.
"I tell you, Flossy, if Dr. Hatfield is correct you and I have
tremendous changes to make in our way of spending the Sabbath; and I
have actually prided myself on the way in which I respected the day!"
And Ruth laughed as if that were so strange a thought, now that it was
hardly possible to think that she could have entertained it.
"I know," Flossy said; "and he can not but be right, for he proved his
position. I am glad I heard that address. But for him, I know I should
never have thought of my influence in some places where I now see I can
use it. Ruth you will be struck with one thing. Now, Chautauqua is like
what Madame C's school might have been, so far as study is concerned.
Every day I have a new lesson, one that startles me so! I feel that
there must be some mistake, or I would have heard of or thought of some
of these things before. And yet they sound so reasonable when you come
to think them over, that presently I am surprised that I have not felt
them before. Ruthie, do you think Eurie and Marion have any interest at
all?"
"No," said Ruth, positively, "I know Marion hasn't. It was only the
other evening that she talked more wildly if anything than before."
About this time Marion, alone in her tent, said again, as she had said a
dozen times during the last few days: "If I _only knew_!" And this time
she added, "If I only knew _how_ to know!"