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diff --git a/old/23009-h.htm.2021-01-25 b/old/23009-h.htm.2021-01-25 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3e3448 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/23009-h.htm.2021-01-25 @@ -0,0 +1,1687 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + A Modern Idyll, by Frank Harris + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Modern Idyll, by Frank Harris + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Modern Idyll + +Author: Frank Harris + +Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23009] +Last Updated: December 18, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MODERN IDYLL *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + A MODERN IDYLL + </h1> + <h2> + By Frank Harris + </h2> + <p><br /><br /><br /> + “I call it real good of you, Mr. Letgood, to come and see me. Won’t you be + seated?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. It’s very warm to-day; and as I didn’t feel like reading or + writing, I thought I’d come round.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re just too kind for anythin’! To come an’ pay me a visit when you + must be tired out with yesterday’s preachin’. An’ what a sermon you gave + us in the mornin’—it was too sweet. I had to wink my eyes pretty + hard, an’ pull the tears down the back way, or I should have cried right + out—and Mrs. Jones watchin’ me all the time under that dreadful + bonnet.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hooper had begun with a shade of nervousness in the hurried words; + but the emotion disappeared as she took up a comfortable pose in the + corner of the small sofa. + </p> + <p> + The Rev. John Letgood, having seated himself in an armchair, looked at her + intently before replying. She was well worth looking at, this Mrs. Hooper, + as she leaned back on the cushions in her cool white dress, which was so + thin and soft and well-fitting that her form could be seen through it + almost as clearly as through water. She appeared to be about eighteen + years old, and in reality was not yet twenty. At first sight one would + have said of her, “a pretty girl;” but an observant eye on the second + glance would have noticed those contradictions in face and in form which + bear witness to a certain complexity of nature. Her features were small, + regular, and firmly cut; the long, brown eyes looked out confidently under + straight, well-defined brows; but the forehead was low, and the sinuous + lips a vivid red. So, too, the slender figure and narrow hips formed a + contrast with the throat, which pouted in soft, white fulness. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you liked the sermon,” said the minister, breaking the silence, + “for it is not probable that you will hear many more from me.” There was + just a shade of sadness in the lower tone with which he ended the phrase. + He let the sad note drift in unconsciously—by dint of practice he + had become an artist in the management of his voice. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say!” exclaimed Mrs. Hooper, sitting up straight in her + excitement “You ain’t goin’ to leave us, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you pretend, Belle, to misunderstand me? You know I said three + months ago that if you didn’t care for me I should have to leave this + place. And yesterday I told you that you must make up your mind at once, + as I was daily expecting a call to Chicago. Now I have come for your + answer, and you treat me as if I were a stranger, and you knew nothing of + what I feel for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she sighed, languorously nestling back into the corner. “Is that + all? I thought for a moment the ‘call’ had come.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it has not yet; but I am resolved to get an answer from you to-day, + or I shall go away, call or no call.” + </p> + <p> + “What would Nettie Williams say if she heard you?” laughed Mrs. Hooper, + with mischievous delight in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Belle,” he said in tender remonstrance, leaning forward and taking + the small cool hand in his, “what is my answer to be? Do you love me? Or + am I to leave Kansas City, and try somewhere else to get again into the + spirit of my work? God forgive me, but I want you to tell me to stay. Will + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I will,” she returned, while slowly withdrawing her hand. + “There ain’t any one wants you to go, and why should you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Because my passion for you prevents me from doing my work. You tease + and torture me with doubt, and when I should be thinking of my duties I am + wondering whether or not you care for me. Do you love me? I must have a + plain answer.” + </p> + <p> + “Love you?” she repeated pensively. “I hardly know, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But what?” he asked impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “But—I must just see after the pies; this ‘help’ of ours is Irish, + an’ doesn’t know enough to turn them in the oven. And Mr. Hooper don’t + like burnt pies.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke with coquettish gravity, and got up to go out of the room. But + when Mr. Letgood also rose, she stopped and smiled—waiting perhaps + for him to take his leave. As he did not speak she shook out her frock and + then pulled down her bodice at the waist and drew herself up, thus + throwing into relief the willowy outlines of her girlish form. The + provocative grace, unconscious or intentional, of the attitude was not + lost on her admirer. For an instant he stood irresolute, but when she + stepped forward to pass him, he seemed to lose his self-control, and, + putting his arms round her, tried to kiss her. With serpent speed and + litheness she bowed her head against his chest, and slipped out of the + embrace. On reaching the door she paused to say, over her shoulder: “If + you’ll wait, I’ll be back right soon;” then, as if a new thought had + occurred to her, she added turning to him: “The Deacon told me he was + coming home early to-day, and he’d be real sorry to miss you.” + </p> + <p> + As she disappeared, he took up his hat, and left the house. + </p> + <p> + It was about four o’clock on a day in mid-June. The sun was pouring down + rays of liquid flame; the road, covered inches deep in fine white dust, + and the wooden side-walks glowed with the heat, but up and down the steep + hills went the minister unconscious of physical discomfort. + </p> + <p> + “Does she care for me, or not? Why can’t she tell me plainly? The teasing + creature! Did she give me the hint to go because she was afraid her + husband would come in? Or did she want to get rid of me in order not to + answer?... She wasn’t angry with me for putting my arms round her, and yet + she wouldn’t let me kiss her. Why not? She doesn’t love him. She married + him because she was poor, and he was rich and a deacon. She can’t love + him. He must be fifty-five if he’s a day. Perhaps she doesn’t love me + either—the little flirt! But how seductive she is, and what a body, + so round and firm and supple—not thin at all. I have the feel of it + on my hands now—I can’t stand this.” + </p> + <p> + Shaking himself vigorously, he abandoned his meditation, which, like many + similar ones provoked by Mrs. Hooper, had begun in vexation and ended in + passionate desire. Becoming aware of the heat and dust, he stood still, + took off his hat, and wiped his forehead. + </p> + <p> + The Rev. John Letgood was an ideal of manhood to many women. He was + largely built, but not ungainly—the coarseness of the hands being + the chief indication of his peasant ancestry. His head was rather round, + and strongly set on broad shoulders; the nose was straight and well + formed; the dark eyes, however, were somewhat small, and the lower part of + the face too massive, though both chin and jaw were clearly marked. A + long, thick, brown moustache partly concealed the mouth; the lower lip + could just be seen, a little heavy, and sensual; the upper one was + certainly flexile and suasive. A good-looking man of thirty, who must have + been handsome when he was twenty, though even then, probably, too much + drawn by the pleasures of the senses to have had that distinction of + person which seems to be reserved for those who give themselves to thought + or high emotions. On entering his comfortable house, he was met by his + negro “help,” who handed him his “mail”: “I done brot these, Massa; they’s + all.” “Thanks, Pete,” he replied abstractedly, going into his cool study. + He flung himself into an armchair before the writing-table, and began to + read the letters. Two were tossed aside carelessly, but on opening the + third he sat up with a quick exclamation. Here at last was the “call” he + had been expecting, a “call” from the deacons of the Second Baptist Church + in Chicago, asking him to come and minister to their spiritual wants, and + offering him ten thousand dollars a year for his services. + </p> + <p> + For a moment exultation overcame every other feeling in the man. A light + flashed in his eyes as he exclaimed aloud: “It was that sermon did it! + What a good thing it was that I knew their senior deacon was in the church + on purpose to hear me! How well I brought in the apostrophe on the + cultivation of character that won me the prize at college! Ah, I have + never done anything finer than that, never! and perhaps never shall now. I + had been reading Channing then for months, was steeped in him; but + Channing has nothing as good as that in all his works. It has more weight + and dignity—dignity is the word—than anything he wrote. And to + think of its bringing me this! Ten thousand dollars a year and the second + church in Chicago, while here they think me well paid with five. Chicago! + I must accept it at once. Who knows, perhaps I shall get to New York yet, + and move as many thousands as here I move hundreds. No! not I. I do not + move them. I am weak and sinful. It is the Holy Spirit, and the power of + His grace. O Lord, I am thankful to Thee who hast been good to me + unworthy!” A pang of fear shot through him: “Perhaps He sends this to win + me away from Belle.” His fancy called her up before him as she had lain on + the sofa. Again he saw the bright malicious glances and the red lips, the + full white throat, and the slim roundness of her figure. He bowed his head + upon his hands and groaned. “O Lord, help me! I know not what to do. Help + me, O Lord!” + </p> + <p> + As if prompted by a sudden inspiration, he started to his feet. “Now she + must answer! Now what will she say? Here <i>is</i> the call. Ten thousand + dollars a year! What will she say to that?” + </p> + <p> + He spoke aloud in his excitement, all that was masculine in him glowing + with the sense of hard-won mastery over the tantalizing evasiveness of the + woman. + </p> + <p> + On leaving his house he folded up the letter, thrust it into the + breast-pocket of his frock-coat, and strode rapidly up the hill towards + Mrs. Hooper’s. At first he did not even think of her last words, but when + he had gone up and down the first hill and was beginning to climb the + second they suddenly came back to him. He did not want to meet her husband—least + of all now. He paused. What should he do? Should he wait till to-morrow? + No, that was out of the question; he couldn’t wait. He must know what + answer to send to the call. If Deacon Hooper happened to be at home he + would talk to him about the door of the vestry, which would not shut + properly. If the Deacon was not there, he would see her and force a + confession from her.... + </p> + <p> + While the shuttle of his thought flew thus to and fro, he did not at all + realize that he was taking for granted what he had refused to believe half + an hour before. He felt certain now that Deacon Hooper would not be in, + and that Mrs. Hooper had got rid of him on purpose to avoid his + importunate love-making. When he reached the house and rang the bell his + first question was: + </p> + <p> + “Is the Deacon at home?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sah.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Mrs. Hooper in?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sah.” + </p> + <p> + “Please tell her I should like to see her for a moment. I will not keep + her long. Say it’s very important.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Massa, I bring her shuah,” said the negress with a good-natured + grin, opening the door of the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + In a minute or two Mrs. Hooper came into the room looking as cool and + fresh as if “pies” were baked in ice. + </p> + <p> + “Good day, <i>again</i> Mr. Letgood. Won’t you take a chair?” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to feel the implied reproach, for without noticing her + invitation to sit down he came to the point at once. Plunging his hand + into his pocket, he handed her the letter from Chicago. + </p> + <p> + She took it with the quick interest of curiosity, but as she read, the + colour deepened in her cheeks, and before she had finished it she broke + out, “Ten thousand dollars a year!” + </p> + <p> + As she gave the letter back she did not raise her eyes, but said musingly: + “That is a call indeed...” Staring straight before her she added: “How + strange it should come to-day! Of course you’ll accept it.” + </p> + <p> + A moment, and she darted the question at him: + </p> + <p> + “Does she know? Have you told Miss Williams yet? But there, I suppose you + have!” After another pause, she went on: + </p> + <p> + “What a shame to take you away just when we had all got to know and like + you! I suppose we shall have some old fogey now who will preach against + dancin’ an’ spellin’-bees an’ surprise-parties. And, of course, he won’t + like me, or come here an’ call as often as you do—makin’ the other + girls jealous. I shall hate the change!” And in her innocent excitement + she slowly lifted her brown eyes to his. + </p> + <p> + “You know you’re talking nonsense, Belle,” he replied, with grave + earnestness. “I’ve come for <i>your</i> answer. If you wish me to stay, if + you really care for me, I shall refuse this offer.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t tell!” she exclaimed. “Refuse ten thousand dollars a year and a + church in Chicago to stay here in Kansas City! I know I shouldn’t! Why,” + and she fixed her eyes on his as she spoke, “you must be real good even to + think of such a thing. But then, you won’t refuse,” she added, pouting. + “No one would,” she concluded, with profound conviction. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” answered the minister, moving to her and quietly putting both + hands on her waist, while his voice seemed to envelope and enfold her with + melodious tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I shall refuse it, Belle, if <i>you</i> wish me to; refuse it as + I should ten times as great a prize, as I think I should refuse—God + forgive me!—heaven itself, if you were not there to make it + beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + While speaking he drew her to him gently; her body yielded to his touch, + and her gaze, as if fascinated, was drawn into his. But when the flow of + words ceased, and he bent to kiss her, the spell seemed to lose its power + over her. In an instant she wound herself out of his arms, and with + startled eyes aslant whispered: + </p> + <p> + “Hush! he’s coming! Don’t you hear his step?” As Mr. Letgood went again + towards her with a tenderly reproachful and incredulous “Now, Belle,” she + stamped impatiently on the floor while exclaiming in a low, but angry + voice, “Do take care! That’s the Deacon’s step.” + </p> + <p> + At the same moment her companion heard it too. The sounds were distinct on + the wooden side-walk, and when they ceased at the little gate four or five + yards from the house he knew that she was right. + </p> + <p> + He pulled himself together, and with a man’s untimely persistence spoke + hurriedly: + </p> + <p> + “I shall wait for your answer till Sunday morning next. Before then you + must have assured me of your love, or I shall go to Chicago—” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hooper’s only reply was a contemptuous, flashing look that succeeded + in reducing the importunate clergyman to silence—just in time—for + as the word “Chicago” passed his lips the handle of the door turned, and + Deacon Hooper entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “Why, how do you do, Mr. Letgood?” said the Deacon cordially. “I’m glad to + see you, sir, as you are too, I’m sartin,” he added, turning to his wife + and putting his arms round her waist and his lips to her cheek in an + affectionate caress. “Take a seat, won’t you? It’s too hot to stand.” As + Mrs. Hooper sank down beside him on the sofa and their visitor drew over a + chair, he went on, taking up again the broken thread of his thought. “No + one thinks more of you than Isabelle. She said only last Sunday there + warn’t such a preacher as you west of the Mississippi River. How’s that + for high, eh?”—And then, still seeking back like a dog on a lost + scent, he added, looking from his wife to the clergyman, as if recalled to + a sense of the actualities of the situation by a certain constraint in + their manner, “But what’s that I heard about Chicago? There ain’t nothin’ + fresh—Is there?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” replied Mrs. Hooper, with a look of remonstrance thrown sideways at + her admirer, while with a woman’s quick decision she at once cut the knot, + “I guess there is something fresh. Mr. Letgood, just think of it, has had + a ‘call’ from the Second Baptist Church in Chicago, and it’s ten thousand + dollars a year. Now who’s right about his preachin’? And he ain’t goin’ to + accept it. He’s goin’ to stay right here. At least,” she added coyly, “he + said he’d refuse it—didn’t you?” + </p> + <p> + The Deacon stared from one to the other as Mr. Letgood, with a forced + half-laugh which came from a dry throat, answered: “That would be going + perhaps a little too far. I said,” he went on, catching a coldness in the + glance of the brown eyes, “I wished to refuse it. But of course I shall + have to consider the matter thoroughly—and seek for guidance.” + </p> + <p> + “Wall,” said the Deacon in amazement, “ef that don’t beat everythin’. I + guess nobody would refuse an offer like that. <i>Ten thousand dollars a + year!</i> Ten thousand. Why, that’s twice what you’re get-tin’ here. You + can’t refuse that. I know you wouldn’t ef you war’ a son of mine—as + you might be. Ten thousand. No, sir. An’ the Second Baptist Church in + Chicago is the first; it’s the best, the richest, the largest. There ain’t + no sort of comparison between it and the First. No, sir! There ain’t none. + Why, James P. Willis, him as was here and heard you—that’s how it + came about, that’s how!—he’s the senior Deacon of it, an’ I guess he + can count dollars with any man this side of New York. Yes, sir, with any + man west of the Alleghany Mountains.” The breathless excitement of the + good Deacon changed gradually as he realized that his hearers were not in + sympathy with him, and his speech became almost solemn in its + impressiveness as he continued. “See here! This ain’t a thing to waste. + Ten thousand dollars a year to start with, an’ the best church in Chicago, + you can’t expect to do better than that. Though you’re young still, when + the chance comes, it should be gripped.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” broke in Mrs. Hooper irritably, twining her fingers and + tapping the carpet with her foot, “Mr. Letgood doesn’t want to leave + Kansas City. Don’t you understand? Perhaps he likes the folk here just as + well as any in Chicago.” No words could describe the glance which + accompanied this. It was appealing, and coquettish, and triumphant, and + the whole battery was directed full on Mr. Let-good, who had by this time + recovered his self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he said, turning to the Deacon and overlooking Mrs. Hooper’s + appeal, “I know all that, and I don’t deny that the ‘call’ at first seemed + to draw me.” Here his voice dropped as if he were speaking to himself: “It + offers a wider and a higher sphere of work, but there’s work, too, to be + done here, and I don’t know that the extra salary ought to tempt me. <i>Take + neither scrip nor money in your purse</i>,” and he smiled, “you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the Deacon, his eyes narrowing as if amazement were giving + place to a new emotion; “yes, but that ain’t meant quite literally, I + reckon. Still, it’s fer you to judge. But ef you refuse ten thousand + dollars a year, why, there are mighty few who would, and that’s all I’ve + got to say—mighty few,” he added emphatically, and stood up as if to + shake off the burden of a new and, therefore, unwelcome thought. + </p> + <p> + When the minister also rose, the physical contrast between the two men + became significant. Mr. Let-good’s heavy frame, due to self-indulgence or + to laziness, might have been taken as a characteristic product of the + rich, western prairies, while Deacon Hooper was of the pure Yankee type. + His figure was so lank and spare that, though not quite so tall as his + visitor, he appeared to be taller. His face was long and angular; the + round, clear, blue eyes, the finest feature of it, the narrowness of the + forehead the worst. The mouth-corners were drawn down, and the lips + hardened to a line by constant compression. No trace of sensuality. How + came this man, grey with age, to marry a girl whose appeal to the senses + was already so obvious? The eyes and prominent temples of the idealist + supplied the answer. Deacon Hooper was a New Englander, trained in the + bitterest competition for wealth, and yet the Yankee in him masked a fund + of simple, kindly optimism, which showed itself chiefly in his devoted + affection for his wife. He had not thought of his age when he married, but + of her and her poverty. And possibly he was justified. The snow-garment of + winter protects the tender spring wheat. + </p> + <p> + “It’s late,” Mr. Letgood began slowly, “I must be going home now. I + thought you might like to hear the news, as you are my senior Deacon. Your + advice seems excellent; I shall weigh the ‘call’ carefully; but”—with + a glance at Mrs. Hooper—“I am disposed to refuse it.” No answering + look came to him. He went on firmly and with emphasis, “<i>I wish</i> to + refuse it.—Good day, Mrs. Hooper, <i>till next Sunday</i>. Good day, + Deacon.” + </p> + <p> + “Good day, Mr. Letgood,” she spoke with a little air of precise courtesy. + </p> + <p> + “Good day, sir,” replied the Deacon, cordially shaking the proffered hand, + while he accompanied his pastor to the street door. + </p> + <p> + The sun was sinking, and some of the glory of the sunset colouring seemed + to be reflected in Deacon Hooper’s face, as he returned to the + drawing-room and said with profound conviction:— + </p> + <p> + “Isabelle, that man’s jest about as good as they make them. He’s what I + call a real Christian—one that thinks of duty first and himself + last. Ef that ain’t a Christian, I’d like to know what is.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she rejoined meditatively, as she busied herself arranging the + chairs and tidying the sofa into its usual stiff primness; “I guess he’s a + good man.” And her cheek flushed softly. + </p> + <p> + “Wall,” he went on warmly, “I reckon we ought to do somethin’ in this. + There ain’t no question but he fills the church. Ef we raised the + pew-rents we could offer him an increase of salary to stay—I guess + that could be done.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! don’t do anything,” exclaimed the wife, as if awaking to the + significance of this proposal, “anyway not until he has decided. It would + look—mean, don’t you think? to offer him somethin’ more to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know but you’re right, Isabelle; I don’t know but you’re right,” + repeated her husband thoughtfully. “It’ll look better if he decides before + hearin’ from us. There ain’t no harm, though, in thinkin’ the thing over + and speakin’ to the other Deacons about it. I’ll kinder find out what they + feel.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied mechanically, almost as if she had not heard. “Yes, + that’s all right.” And she slowly straightened the cloth on the + centre-table, given over again to her reflections. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letgood walked home, ate his supper, went to bed and slept that night + as only a man does whose nervous system has been exhausted by various and + intense emotions. He even said his prayers by rote. And like a child he + slept with tightly-clenched fists, for in him, as in the child, the body’s + claims were predominant. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke next morning, the sun was shining in at his bedroom window, + and at once his thoughts went back to the scenes and emotions of the day + before. An unusual liveliness of memory enabled him to review the very + words which Mrs. Hooper had used. He found nothing to regret. He had + certainly gained ground by telling her of the call. The torpor which had + come upon him the previous evening formed a complete contrast to the + blithesome vigour he now enjoyed. He seemed to himself to be a different + man, recreated, as it were, and endowed with fresh springs of life. While + he lay in the delightful relaxation and warmth of the bed, and looked at + the stream of sunshine which flowed across the room, he became confident + that all would go right. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he decided, “she cares for me, or she would never have wished me to + stay. Even the Deacon helped me—” The irony of the fact shocked him. + He would not think of it. He might get a letter from her by two o’clock. + With pleasure thrilling through every nerve, he imagined how she would + word her confession. For she had yielded to him; he had felt her body move + towards him and had seen the surrender in her eyes. While musing thus, + passion began to stir in him, and with passion impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Only half-past six o’clock,” he said to himself, pushing his watch again + under the pillow; “eight hours to wait till mail time. Eight endless + hours. What a plague!” + </p> + <p> + His own irritation annoyed him, and he willingly took up again the thread + of his amorous reverie: “What a radiant face she has, what fine + nervefulness in the slim fingers, what softness in the full throat!” + Certain incidents in his youth before he had studied for the ministry came + back to him, bringing the blood to his cheeks and making his temples + throb. As the recollections grew vivid they became a torment. To regain + quiet pulses he forced his mind to dwell upon the details of his + “conversion”—his sudden resolve to live a new life and to give + himself up to the service of the divine Master. The yoke was not easy; the + burden was not light. On the contrary. He remembered innumerable contests + with his rebellious flesh, contests in which he was never completely + victorious for more than a few days together, but in which, especially + during the first heat of the new enthusiasm, he had struggled desperately. + Had his efforts been fruitless?... + </p> + <p> + He thought with pride of his student days—mornings given to books + and to dreams of the future, and evenings marked by passionate emotions, + new companions reinspiring him continually with fresh ardour. The time + spent at college was the best of his life. He had really striven, then, as + few strive, to deserve the prize of his high calling. During those years, + it seemed to him, he had been all that an earnest Christian should be. He + recalled, with satisfaction, the honours he had won in Biblical knowledge + and in history, and the more easily gained rewards for rhetoric. It was + only natural that he should have been immediately successful as a + preacher. How often he had moved his flock to tears! No wonder he had got + on. + </p> + <p> + Those first successes, and the pleasures which they brought with them of + gratified vanity, had resulted in turning him from a Christian into an + orator. He understood this dimly, but he thrust back the unwelcome truth + with the reflection that his triumphs in the pulpit dated from the time + when he began consciously to treat preaching as an art. After all, was he + not there to win souls to Christ, and had not Christ himself praised the + wisdom of the serpent? Then came the change from obscurity and narrow + living in the country to Kansas City and luxury. He had been wise in + avoiding that girl at Pleasant Hill. He smiled complacently as he thought + of her dress, manners, and speech. Yet she was pretty, very pretty, and + she had loved him with the exclusiveness of womanhood, but still he had + done right. He congratulated himself upon his intuitive knowledge that + there were finer girls in the world to be won. He had not fettered himself + foolishly through pity or weakness. + </p> + <p> + During his ten years of life as a student and minister he had been chaste. + He had not once fallen into flagrant sin. His fervour of unquestioning + faith had saved him at the outset, and, later, habit and prudence. He + lingered over his first meeting with Mrs. Hooper. He had not thought much + of her then, he remembered, although she had appeared to him to be pretty + and perfectly dressed. She had come before him as an embodiment of + delicacy and refinement, and her charm had increased, as he began, in + spite of himself, to notice her peculiar seductiveness. Recollecting how + insensibly the fascination which she exercised over him had grown, and the + sudden madness of desire that had forced him to declare his passion, he + moaned with vexation. If only she had not been married. What a fatality! + How helpless man was, tossed hither and thither by the waves of trivial + circumstance! + </p> + <p> + She had certainly encouraged him; it was her alternate moods of yielding + and reserve which had awakened his senses. She had been flattered by his + admiration, and had sought to call it forth. But, in the beginning, at + least, he had struggled against the temptation. He had prayed for help in + the sore combat—how often and how earnestly!—but no help had + come. Heaven had been deaf to his entreaties. And he had soon realized + that struggling in this instance was of no avail. He loved her; he desired + her with every nerve of his body. + </p> + <p> + There was hardly any use in trying to fight against such a craving as + that, he thought. But yet, in his heart of hearts, he was conscious that + his religious enthusiasm, the aspiration towards the ideal life and the + reverence for Christ’s example, would bring about at least one supreme + conflict in which his passion might possibly be overcome. He dreaded the + crisis, the outcome of which he foresaw would be decisive for his whole + life. He wanted to let himself slide quietly down the slope; but all the + while he felt that something in him would never consent thus to endanger + his hopes of Heaven. + </p> + <p> + And Hell! He hated the thought! He strove to put it away from him, but it + would not be denied. His early habits of self-analysis reasserted + themselves. What if his impatience of the idea were the result of obdurate + sinfulness—sinfulness which might never be forgiven? He compelled + himself, therefore, to think of Hell, tried to picture it to himself, and + the soft, self-indulgent nature of the man shuddered as he realized the + meaning of the word. At length the torture grew too acute. He would not + think any longer; he could not; he would strive to do the right. “O Lord!” + he exclaimed, as he slipped out of bed on to his knees, “O Christ! help + Thy servant! Pity me, and aid!” Yet, while the words broke from his lips + in terrified appeal, he knew that he did not wish to be helped. He rose to + his feet in sullen dissatisfaction. + </p> + <p> + The happy alertness which he had enjoyed at his waking had disappeared; + the self-torment of the last few minutes had tired him; disturbed and + vexed in mind, he began to dress. While moving about in the sunlight his + thoughts gradually became more cheerful, and by the time he left his room + he had regained his good spirits. + </p> + <p> + After a short stroll he went into his study and read the daily paper. He + then took up a book till dinner-time. He dined, and afterwards forgot + himself in a story of African travels. It was only the discomfort of the + intense heat which at length reminded him that, though it was now past two + o’clock, he had received no letter from Mrs. Hooper. But he was resolved + not to think about her, for thoughts of her, he knew, would lead to fears + concerning the future, which would in turn force him to decide upon a + course of action. If he determined to commit the sin, his guilt would + thereby be increased, and he would not pledge himself to refrain from it. + “She couldn’t write last night with the Deacon at her elbow all the time,” + he decided, and began to read again. Darkness had fallen before he + remembered that he owed an immediate answer to the letter from Chicago. + After a little consideration, he sat down and wrote as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Dear Brothers in Christ, + + “Your letter has just reached me. Needless to say it has + touched me deeply. You call me to a wider ministry and more + arduous duties. The very munificence of the remuneration + which you offer leads me to doubt my own fitness for so high + a post. You must bear with me a little, and grant me a few + days for reflection. The ‘call,’ as you know, must be + answered from within, from the depths of my soul, before I + can be certain that it comes from Above, and this Divine + assurance has not yet been vouchsafed to me. + + “I was born and brought up here in Missouri, where I am now + labouring, not without—to Jesus be the praise!—some + small measure of success. I have many ties here, and many + dear friends and fellow-workers in Christ’s vineyard from + whom I could not part without great pain. But I will + prayerfully consider your request. I shall seek for guidance + where alone it is to be found, at the foot of the Great + White Throne, and within a week or so at most I hope to be + able to answer you with the full and joyous certitude of the + Divine blessing. + + “In the meantime, believe that I thank you deeply, dear + Brethren, for your goodness to me, and that I shall pray in + Jesus’ Name that the blessing of the Holy Ghost may be with + you abundantly now and for evermore. + + “Your loving Servant in Christ, + + “John P. Letgood.” + </pre> + <p> + He liked this letter so much that he read it over a great many times. It + committed him to nothing; it was dignified and yet sufficiently grateful, + and the large-hearted piety which appeared to inform it pleased him even + more than the alliteration of the words “born and brought up.” He had at + first written “born and reared;” but in spite of the fear lest “brought + up” should strike the simple Deacons of the Second Baptist Church in + Chicago as unfamiliar and far-fetched, he could not resist the assonance. + After directing the letter he went upstairs to bed, and his prayers that + night were more earnest than they had been of late—perhaps because + he avoided the dangerous topic. The exercise of his talent as a + letter-writer having put him on good terms with himself, he slept soundly. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke in the morning his mood had changed. The day was cloudy; a + thunderstorm was brewing, and had somehow affected his temper. As soon as + he opened his eyes he was aware of the fact that Mrs. Hooper had not + written to him, even on Tuesday morning, when she must have been free, for + the Deacon always went early to his dry-goods store. The consciousness of + this neglect irritated him beyond measure. He tried, therefore, to think + of Chicago and the persons who frequented the Second Baptist Church. + Perhaps, he argued, they were as much ahead of the people in Kansas City + as Mrs. Hooper was superior to any woman he had previously known. But on + this way of thought he could not go far. The houses in Chicago were no + doubt much finer, the furniture more elegant; the living, too, was perhaps + better, though he could not imagine how that could be; there might even be + cleverer and handsomer women there than Mrs. Hooper; but certainly no one + lived in Chicago or anywhere else in the world who could tempt and bewitch + him as she did. She was formed to his taste, made to his desire. As he + recalled her, now laughing at him; now admiring him; to-day teasing him + with coldness, to-morrow encouraging him, he realized with exasperation + that her contradictions constituted her charm. He acknowledged reluctantly + that her odd turns of speech tickled his intellect just as her lithe grace + of movement excited his senses. But the number and strength of the ties + that bound him to her made his anger keener. Where could she hope to find + such love as his? She ought to write to him. Why didn’t she? How could he + come to a decision before he knew whether she loved him or not? In any + case he would show her that he was a man. He would not try to see her + until she had written—not under any circumstances. + </p> + <p> + After dinner and mail time his thoughts ran in another channel. In reality + she was not anything so wonderful. Most men, he knew, did not think her + more than pretty; “pretty Mrs. Hooper” was what she was usually called—nothing + more. No one ever dreamed of saying she was beautiful or fascinating. No; + she was pretty, and that was all. He was the only person in Kansas City or + perhaps in the world to whom she was altogether and perfectly desirable. + She had no reason to be so conceited or to presume on her power over him. + If she were the wonder she thought herself she would surely have married + some one better than old Hooper, with his lank figure, grey hairs, and + Yankee twang. He took a pleasure in thus depreciating the woman he loved—it + gave his anger vent, and seemed to make her acquisition more probable. + When the uselessness of the procedure became manifest to him, he found + that his doubts of her affection had crystallized. + </p> + <p> + This was the dilemma; she had not written either out of coquetry or + because she did not really care for him. If the former were the true + reason, she was cruel; if the latter, she ought to tell him so at once, + and he would try to master himself. On no hypothesis was she justified in + leaving him without a word. Tortured alternately by fear, hope, and anger, + he paced up and down his study all the day long. Now, he said to himself, + he would go and see her, and forthwith he grew calm—that was what + his nature desired. But the man in him refused to be so servile. He had + told her that she must write; to that he would hold, whatever it cost him. + Again, he broke out in bitter blame of her. + </p> + <p> + At length he made up his mind to strive to forget her. But what if she + really cared for him, loved him as he loved her? In that case if he went + away she would be miserable, as wretched as he would be. How unkind it was + of her to leave him without a decided answer, when he could not help + thinking of her happiness! No; she did not love him. He had read enough + about women and seen enough of them to imagine that they never torture the + man they really love. He would give her up and throw himself again into + his work. He could surely do that. Then he remembered that she was + married, and must, of course, see that she would risk her position—everything—by + declaring her love. Perhaps prudence kept her silent. Once more he was + plunged in doubt. + </p> + <p> + He was glad when supper was ready, for that brought, at least for half an + hour, freedom from thought. After the meal was finished he realized that + he was weary of it all—heart-sick of the suspense. The storm broke, + and the flashing of the lightning and the falling sheets of rain brought + him relief. The air became lighter and purer. He went to bed and slept + heavily. + </p> + <p> + On the Thursday morning he awoke refreshed, and at once determined not to + think about Mrs. Hooper. It only needed resolution, he said to himself, in + order to forget her entirely. Her indifference, shown in not writing to + him, should be answered in that way. He took up his pocket Bible, and + opened it at the Gospels. The beautiful story soon exercised its charm + upon his impressionable nature, and after a couple of hours’ reading he + closed the book comforted, and restored to his better self. He fell on his + knees and thanked God for this crowning mercy. From his heart went forth a + hymn of praise for the first time in long weeks. The words of the Man of + Sorrows had lifted him above the slough. The marvel of it! How could he + ever thank Him enough? His whole life should now be devoted to setting + forth the wonders of His grace. When he arose he felt at peace with + himself and full of goodwill to every one. He could even think of Mrs. + Hooper calmly—with pity and grave kindliness. + </p> + <p> + After his midday dinner and a brisk walk—>he paid no attention to + the mail time—he prepared to write the sermon which he intended to + preach as his farewell to his congregation on the following Sunday. He was + determined now to leave Kansas City and go to Chicago. But as soon as he + began to consider what he should say, he became aware of a difficulty. He + could talk and write of accepting the “call” because it gave him “a wider + ministry,” and so forth, but the ugly fact would obtrude itself that he + was relinquishing five thousand dollars a year to accept ten, and he was + painfully conscious that this knowledge would be uppermost in the minds of + his hearers. Most men in his position would have easily put the objection + out of their minds. But he could not put it aside carelessly, and it was + characteristic of him to exaggerate its importance. He dearly loved to + play what the French call <i>le beau rôle</i>, even at the cost of his + self-interest. Of a sensitive, artistic temperament, he had for years + nourished his intellect with good books. He had always striven, too, to + set before his hearers high ideals of life and conduct. His nature was now + subdued to the stuff he had worked in. As an artist, an orator, it was all + but impossible for him to justify what must seem like sordid selfishness. + He moved about in his chair uneasily, and strove to look at the subject + from a new point of view. In vain; ten thousand dollars a year instead of + five—that was to be his theme. + </p> + <p> + The first solution of the problem which suggested itself to him was to + express his very real disdain of such base material considerations, but no + sooner did the thought occur to him than he was fain to reject it. He knew + well that his hearers in Kansas City would refuse to accept that + explanation even as “high-falutin’ bunkum!” He then tried to select a text + in order to ease for a time the strain upon his reflective faculties. + “Feed my sheep” was his first choice—“the largest flock possible, of + course.” But no, that was merely the old cant in new words. + </p> + <p> + He came reluctantly to the conclusion that there was no noble way out of + the difficulty. He felt this the more painfully because, before sitting + down to think of his sermon, he had immersed himself, to use his own + words, in the fountain-head of self-sacrificing enthusiasm. And now he + could not show his flock that there was any trace of self-denial in his + conduct. It was apparent that his acceptance of the call made a great + sermon an utter impossibility. He must say as little about the main point + as possible, glide quickly, in fact, over the thin ice. But his + disappointment was none the less keen; there was no splendid peroration to + write; there would be no eyes gazing up at him through a mist of tears. + His sensations were those of an actor with an altogether uncongenial and + stupid part. + </p> + <p> + After some futile efforts he abandoned the attempt to sketch out a sermon. + Some words would come to him at the time, and they would have to do. In + the evening a new idea presented itself to his over-excited brain. Might + not his dislike of that sermon be a snare set by the Devil to induce him + to reject the call and stay in Kansas City? No. A fine sermon would do + good—the Evil One could not desire that—perhaps even more good + than his sin would do harm? Puzzled and incapable of the effort required + to solve this fresh problem he went to bed, after praying humbly for + guidance and enlightenment. + </p> + <p> + On the Friday morning he rose from his knees with a burden of sorrow. No + kindly light had illumined the darkness of his doubtings. Yet he was + conscious of a perfect sincerity in his desires and in his prayers. + Suddenly he remembered that, when in a pure frame of mind, he had only + considered the acceptance of the call. But in order to be guided aright, + he must abandon himself entirely to God’s directing. In all honesty of + purpose, he began to think of the sermon he could deliver if he resolved + to reject the call. Ah! that sermon needed but little meditation. With + such a decision to announce, he felt that he could carry his hearers with + him to heights of which they knew nothing. Their very vulgarity and + sordidness of nature would help instead of hindering him. No one in Kansas + City would doubt for a moment the sincerity of the self-sacrifice involved + in rejecting ten thousand dollars a year for five. That sermon could be + preached with effect from any text. “Feed my sheep” even would do. He + thrilled in anticipation, as a great actor thrills when reading a part + which will allow him to discover all his powers, and in which he is + certain to “bring down the house.” Completely carried away by his + emotions, he began to turn the sermon over in his head. First of all he + sought for a text; not this one, nor that one, but a few words breathing + the very spirit of Christ’s self-abnegation. He soon found what he wanted: + “For whosoever will save his life, shall lose it; and whosoever will lose + his life for My sake, shall find it.” The unearthly beauty of the thought + and the divine simplicity of its expression took the orator captive. As he + imagined that Godlike Figure in Galilee, and seemed to hear the words drop + like pearls from His lips, so he saw himself in the pulpit, and had a + foretaste of the effect of his own eloquence. Ravished by the vision, he + proceeded to write and rewrite the peroration. Every other part he could + trust to his own powers, and to the inspiration of the theme, but the + peroration he meant to make finer even than his apostrophe on the + cultivation of character, which hitherto had been the high-water mark of + his achievement. + </p> + <p> + At length he finished his task, but not before sunset, and he felt weary + and hungry. He ate and rested. In the complete relaxation of mental + strain, he understood all at once what he had done. He had decided to + remain in Kansas City. But to remain meant to meet Mrs. Hooper day after + day, to be thrown together with her even by her foolishly confiding + husband; it meant perpetual temptation, and at last—a fall! And yet + God had guided him to choose that sermon rather than the other. He had + abandoned himself passively to His guidance—could <i>that</i> lead + to the brink of the pit?... He cried out suddenly like one in bodily + anguish. He had found the explanation. God cared for no half-victories. + Flight to Chicago must seem to Him the veriest cowardice. God intended him + to stay in Kansas City and conquer the awful temptation face to face. When + he realized this, he fell on his knees and prayed as he had never prayed + in all his life before. If entreated humbly, God would surely temper the + wind to the shorn lamb; He knew His servant’s weakness. “<i>Lead us not + into temptation</i>,” he cried again and again, for the first time in his + life comprehending what now seemed to him the awful significance of the + words. “<i>Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil</i>”—thus + he begged and wept. But even when, exhausted in body and in mind, he rose + from his knees, he had found no comfort. Like a child, with streaming eyes + and quivering features, he stumbled upstairs to bed and fell asleep, + repeating over and over again mechanically the prayer that the cup might + pass from him. + </p> + <p> + On the Saturday morning he awoke as from a hideous nightmare. Before there + was time for thought he was aware of what oppressed and frightened him. + The knowledge of his terrible position weighed him down. He was worn out + and feverishly ill; incapable of reflection or resolution, conscious + chiefly of pain and weariness, and a deep dumb revolt against his + impending condemnation. After lying thus for some time, drinking the cup + of bitterness to the very dregs, he got up, and went downstairs. Yielding + to habit he opened the Bible. But the Book had no message for him. His + tired brain refused, for minutes together, to take in the sense of the + printed words. The servant found him utterly miserable and helpless when + she went to tell him that “the dinner was a-gittin’ cold.” + </p> + <p> + The food seemed to restore him, and during the first two hours of + digestion he was comparatively peaceful in being able to live without + thinking; but when the body had recovered its vigour, the mind grew + active, and the self-torture recommenced. For some hours—he never + knew how many—he suffered in this way; then a strange calm fell upon + him. Was it the Divine help which had come at last, or despair, or the + fatigue of an overwrought spirit? He knelt down and prayed once more, but + this time his prayer consisted simply in placing before his Heavenly + Father the exact state of the case. He was powerless; God should do with + him according to His purpose, only he felt unable to resist if the + temptation came up against him. Jesus, of course, could remove the + temptation or strengthen him if He so willed. His servant was in His + hands. + </p> + <p> + After continuing in this strain for some time he got up slowly, calm but + hopeless. There was no way of escape for him. He took up the Bible and + attempted again to read it; but of a sudden he put it down, and throwing + his outspread arms on the table and bowing his head upon them he cried: + </p> + <p> + “My God, forgive me! I cannot hear Thy voice, nor feel Thy presence. I can + only see her face and feel her body.” + </p> + <p> + And then hardened as by the consciousness of unforgivable blaspheming, he + rose with set face, lit his candle, and went to bed. + </p> + <p> + The week had passed much as usual with Mrs. Hooper and her husband. On the + Tuesday he had seen most of his brother Deacons and found that they + thought as he did. All were agreed that something should be done to + testify to their gratitude, if indeed their pastor refused the “call.” In + the evening, after supper, Mr. Hooper narrated to his wife all that he had + done and all that the others had said. When he asked for her opinion she + approved of his efforts. A little while later she turned to him: “I wonder + why Mr. Letgood doesn’t marry?” As she spoke she laid down her work. With + a tender smile the Deacon drew her on to his knees in the armchair, and + pushing up his spectacles (he had been reading a dissertation on the + meaning of the Greek verb said with infinite, + playful tenderness in his voice: + </p> + <p> + “Tain’t every one can find a wife like you, my dear.” He was rewarded for + the flattering phrase with a little slap on the cheek. He continued + thoughtfully: “Taint every one either that wants to take care of a wife. + Some folks hain’t got much affection in ‘em, I guess; perhaps Mr. Letgood + hain’t.” To the which Mrs. Hooper answered not in words, but her lips + curved into what might be called a smile, a contented smile as from the + heights of superior knowledge. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letgood’s state of mind on the Sunday morning was too complex for + complete analysis: he did not attempt the task. He preferred to believe + that he had told God the whole truth without any attempt at reservation. + He had thereby placed himself in His hands, and was no longer chiefly + responsible. He would not even think of what he was about to do, further + than that he intended to refuse the call and to preach the sermon the + peroration of which he had so carefully prepared. After dressing he sat + down in his study and committed this passage to memory. He pictured to + himself with pleasure the effect it would surely produce upon his hearers. + When Pete came to tell him the buggy was ready to take him to church, he + got up almost cheerfully, and went out. + </p> + <p> + The weather was delightful, as it is in June in that part of the Western + States. From midday until about four o’clock the temperature is that of + midsummer, but the air is exceedingly dry and light, and one breathes it + in the morning with a sense of exhilaration. While driving to church Mr. + Letgood’s spirits rose. He chatted with his servant Pete, and even took + the reins once for a few hundred yards. But when they neared the church + his gaiety forsook him. He stopped talking, and appeared to be a little + preoccupied. From time to time he courteously greeted one of his flock on + the side-walk: but that was all. As he reached the church, the Partons + drove up, and of course he had to speak to them. After the usual + conventional remarks and shaking of hands, the minister turned up the + sidewalk which led to the vestry. He had not taken more than four or five + steps in this direction before he paused and looked up the street. He + shrugged his shoulders, however, immediately at his own folly, and walked + on: “Of course she couldn’t send a messenger with a note. On Sundays the + Deacon was with her.” + </p> + <p> + As he opened the vestry door, and stepped into the little room, he stopped + short. Mrs. Hooper was there, coming towards him with outstretched hand + and radiant smile: + </p> + <p> + “Good morning Mr. Letgood, all the Deacons are here to meet you, and they + let me come; because I was the first you told the news to, and because I’m + sure you’re not goin’ to leave us. Besides, I wanted to come.” + </p> + <p> + He could not help looking at her for a second as he took her hand and + bowed: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mrs. Hooper.” Not trusting himself further, he began to shake + hands with the assembled elders. In answer to one who expressed the hope + that they would keep him, he said slowly and gravely: + </p> + <p> + “I always trust something to the inspiration of the moment, but I confess + I am greatly moved to refuse this call.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I said,” broke in Mr. Hooper triumphantly, “and I said, too, + there were mighty few like you, and I meant it. But we don’t want you to + act against yourself, though we’d be mighty glad to hev you stay.” + </p> + <p> + A chorus of “Yes, sir! Yes, indeed! That’s so” went round the room in warm + approval, and then, as the minister did not answer save with an + abstracted, wintry smile, the Deacons began to file into the church. + Curiously enough Mrs. Hooper having moved away from the door during this + scene was now, necessarily it seemed, the last to leave the room. While + she was passing him, Mr. Letgood bent towards her and in an eager tone + whispered: + </p> + <p> + “And my answer?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hooper paused, as if surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! ain’t you men stupid,” she murmured and with a smile tossed the + question over her shoulder: “What <i>did</i> I come here for?” + </p> + <p> + That sermon of Mr. Letgood’s is still remembered in Kansas City. It is not + too much to say that the majority of his hearers believed him to be + inspired. And, in truth, as an artistic performance his discourse was + admirable. After standing for some moments with his hand upon the desk, + apparently lost in thought, he began in the quietest tone to read the + letter from the Deacons of the Second Baptist Church in Chicago. He then + read his reply, begging them to give him time to consider their request He + had considered it—prayerfully. He would read the passage of Holy + Scripture which had suggested the answer he was about to send to the call. + He paused again. The rustling of frocks and the occasional coughings + ceased—the audience straining to catch the decision—while in a + higher key he recited the verse, “For whosoever will save his life, shall + lose it; and whosoever will lose his life for My sake, shall find it.” + </p> + <p> + As the violinist knows when his instrument is perfectly attuned, so Mr. + Letgood knew when he repeated the text that his hearers had surrendered + themselves to him to be played upon. It would be useless here to reproduce + the sermon, which lasted for nearly an hour, and altogether impossible to + give any account of the preacher’s gestures or dramatic pauses, or of the + modulations and inflections of his voice, which now seemed to be freighted + with passionate earnestness, now quivered in pathetic appeal, and now grew + musical in the dying fall of some poetic phrase. The effect was + astonishing. While he was speaking simply of the text as embodying the + very spirit of the Glad Tidings which Christ first delivered to the world, + not a few women were quietly weeping. It was impossible, they felt, to + listen unmoved to that voice. + </p> + <p> + But when he went on to show the necessity of renunciation as the first + step towards the perfecting of character, even the hard, keen faces of the + men before him began to relax and change expression. He dwelt, in turn, + upon the startling novelty of Christ’s teaching and its singular success. + He spoke of the shortness of human life, the vanity of human effort, and + the ultimate reward of those who sacrifice themselves for others, as Jesus + did, and out of the same divine spirit of love. He thus came to the + peroration. He began it in the manner of serious conversation. + </p> + <p> + All over the United States the besetting sin of the people was the desire + of wealth. He traced the effects of the ignoble struggle for gain in the + degradation of character, in the debased tone of public and private life. + The main current of existence being defiled, his duty was clear. Even more + than other men he was pledged to resist the evil tendency of the time. In + some ways, no doubt, he was as frail and faulty as the weakest of his + hearers, but to fail in this respect would be, he thought, to prove + himself unworthy of his position. That a servant of Christ in the + nineteenth century should seek wealth, or allow it in any way to influence + his conduct, appeared to him to be much the same unpardonable sin as + cowardice in a soldier or dishonesty in a man of business. He could do but + little to show what the words of his text meant to him, but one thing he + could do and would do joyously. He would write to the good Deacons in + Chicago to tell them that he intended to stay in Kansas City, and to + labour on among the people whom he knew and loved, and some of whom, he + believed, knew and loved him. He would not be tempted by the greater + position offered to him or by the larger salary. “<i>For whosoever will + save his life shall lose it; and whosoever will lose his life for My sake, + shall find it</i>.” + </p> + <p> + As his voice broke over the last words, there was scarcely a dry eye in + the church. Many of the women were sobbing audibly, and Mrs. Hooper had + long ago given up the attempt “to pull her tears down the back way.” She + expressed the general sentiment of her sex when she said afterwards, “It + was just too lovely for anythin’.” And the men were scarcely less + affected, though they were better able to control their emotion. The + joyous renunciation of five thousand dollars a year struck these hard men + of business as something almost uncanny. They would have considered it the + acme of folly in an ordinary man, but in a preacher they felt vaguely that + it was admirable. + </p> + <p> + When Deacon Hooper met his brother Deacons before the platform where the + collection-plates were kept, he whispered, “The meetin’ is at my house at + three o’clock. Be on time.” His tone was decided, as were also the nods + which accepted the invitation. + </p> + <p> + After the service Mr. Letgood withdrew quietly without going, as usual, + amongst his congregation. This pleased even Mrs. Farton, whose husband was + a judge of the Supreme Court. She said: “It was elegant of him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hooper received the twelve Deacons in his drawing-room, and when the + latest comer was seated, began: + </p> + <p> + “There ain’t no need for me to tell you, brethren, why I asked you all to + come round here this afternoon. After that sermon this mornin’ I guess + we’re all sot upon showin’ our minister that we appreciate him. There are + mighty few men with five thousand dollars a year who’d give up ten + thousand. It seems to me a pretty good proof that a man’s a Christian ef + he’ll do that. Tain’t being merely a Christian: it’s Christ-like. We must + keep Mr. Letgood right here: he’s the sort o’ man we want. If they come + from Chicago after him now, they’ll be comin’ from New York next, an’ he + oughtn’t to be exposed to sich great temptation. + </p> + <p> + “I allow that we’ll be able to raise the pew-rents from the first of + January next, to bring in another two thousand five hundred dollars a + year, and I propose that we Deacons should jest put our hands deep down in + our pockets and give Mr. Let-good that much anyway for this year, and + promise the same for the future. I’m willin’, as senior Deacon, though not + the richest, to start the list with three hundred dollars.” + </p> + <p> + In five minutes the money was subscribed, and it was agreed that each man + should pay in his contribution to the name of Mr. Hooper at the First + National Bank next day; Mr. Hooper could then draw his cheque for the sum. + </p> + <p> + “Wall,” said the Deacon, again getting up, “that’s settled, but I’ve drawn + that cheque already. Mrs. Hooper and me talked the thing over,” he added + half apologetically, and as if to explain his unbusinesslike rashness; + “an’ she thinks we oughter go right now to Mr. Letgood as a sort of + surprise party an’ tell him what we hev decided—that is, ef you’re + all agreed.” + </p> + <p> + They were, although one or two objected to a “surprise party” being held + on Sunday. But Deacon Hooper overruled the objection by saying that he + could find no better <i>word</i>, though of course ‘twas really not a + “surprise party.” After this explanation, some one proposed that Deacon + Hooper should make the presentation, and that Mrs. Hooper should be asked + to accompany them. When Mr. Hooper went into the dining-room to find, his + wife she was already dressed to go out, and when he expressed surprise and + delivered himself of his mission, she said simply: + </p> + <p> + “Why, I only dressed to go and see Mrs. Jones, who’s ill, but I guess I’ll + go along with you first.” + </p> + <p> + The same afternoon Mr. Letgood was seated in his study considering a + sermon for the evening—it would have to be very different from that + of the morning, he felt, or else it would fall flat. + </p> + <p> + He still avoided thinking of his position. The die was cast now, and + having struggled hard against the temptation he tried to believe that he + was not chiefly responsible. In the back of his mind was the knowledge + that his responsibility would become clear to him some time or other, but + he confined it in the furthest chamber of his brain with repentance as the + guardian. + </p> + <p> + He had just decided that his evening address must be doctrinal and + argumentative, when he became aware of steps in the drawing-room. Opening + the door he found himself face to face with his Deacons. Before he could + speak, Deacon Hooper began: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Letgood! We, the Deacons of your church, hev come to see you. We want + to tell you how we appreciate your decision this mornin’. It was + Christlike! And we’re all proud of you, an’ glad you’re goin’ to stay with + us. But we allow that it ain’t fair or to be expected that you should + refuse ten thousand dollars a year with only five. So we’ve made a purse + for this year among ourselves of two thousand five hundred dollars extry, + which we hope you’ll accept. Next year the pew-rents can be raised to + bring in the same sum; anyway, it shall be made up. + </p> + <p> + “There ain’t no use in talkin’; but you, sir, hev jest sot us an example + of how one who loves the Lord Jesus, and Him only, should act, and we + ain’t goin’ to remain far behind. No, sir, we ain’t Thar’s the cheque.” + </p> + <p> + As he finished speaking, tears stood in the kind, honest, blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letgood took the cheque mechanically, and mechanically accepted at the + same time the Deacon’s outstretched hand; but his eyes sought Mrs. + Hooper’s, who stood behind the knot of men with her handkerchief to her + face. In a moment or two, recalled to himself by the fact that one after + the other all the Deacons wanted to shake his hand, he tried to sustain + his part in the ceremony. He said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear brothers, I thank you each and all, and accept your gift in the + spirit in which you offer it. I need not say that I knew nothing of your + intention when I preached this morning. It is not the money that I’m + thinking of now, but your kindness. I thank you again.” + </p> + <p> + After a few minutes’ casual conversation, consisting chiefly of praise of + the “wonderful discourse” of the morning, Mr. Letgood proposed that they + should all have iced coffee with him; there was nothing so refreshing; he + wanted them to try it; and though he was a bachelor, if Mrs. Hooper would + kindly give her assistance and help him with his cook, he was sure they + would enjoy a glass. With a smile she consented. Stepping into the passage + after her and closing the door, he said hurriedly, with anger and + suspicion in his voice: + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t get this up as my answer? You didn’t think I’d take money + instead, did you?” + </p> + <p> + Demurely, Mrs. Hooper turned her head round as he spoke, and leaning + against him while he put his arms round her waist, answered with arch + reproach: + </p> + <p> + “You are just too silly for anythin’.” + </p> + <p> + Then, with something like the movement of a cat loath to lose the contact + of the caressing hand, she turned completely towards him and slowly lifted + her eyes. Their lips met. + </p> + <p> + 21 April. 1891. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Modern Idyll, by Frank Harris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MODERN IDYLL *** + +***** This file should be named 23009-h.htm or 23009-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/0/0/23009/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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