CHAPTER XIII.
"I preached as never sure to preach again, And as a dying man to dying men." --_Richard Baxter._
There was a stranger in the pulpit the next Sunday morning; one whosecountenance, though youthful, by its intellectuality, its earnestthoughtfulness, and a nameless something that told of communion with Godand a strong sense of the solemn responsibility of thus standing as anambassador for Christ to expound his word and will to sinful, dying men,gave promise of a discourse that should send empty away no attentivehearer hungering and thirsting for the bread and the water of life.
Nor was the promise unfulfilled. Taking as his text the Master's ownwords, "They hated me without a cause," he dwelt first upon the utterhelplessness, hopelessness and wretchedness of that estate of sin andmisery into which all mankind were plunged by Adam's fall; then uponGod's offered mercy through a Redeemer, even his only begotten andwell-beloved Son; upon the wondrous love of Christ "in offering himselfa sacrifice to satisfy divine justice and reconcile us to God," as shownfirst in what he resigned--the joy and bliss of heaven, "the glorywhich he had with the Father before the world was"--secondly in hisbirth and life on earth, of which he gave a rapid but vivid sketch fromthe manger to the cross--showing the meekness, patience, gentleness,benevolence, self-denial, humility and resignation of Jesus--how true,guileless, innocent, loving and compassionate he was; describing themiracles he wrought--every one an act of kindness to some poor suffererfrom bereavement, accident, disease, or Satan's power; then the closingscenes of that wondrous life--the agony in the garden, the cruel mockeryof a trial, the scourging, the crucifixion, the expiring agonies uponthe cross.
He paused; the audience almost held their breath for the next words, thesilent tears were stealing down many a cheek.
Leaning over the pulpit with outstretched hand, with features workingwith emotion, "I have set before you," he said in tones thrilling withpathos, "this Jesus in his life and in his death. He lived not forhimself, but for you; he died not for his own sins, but for yours andmine: he offers you this salvation as a free gift purchased with his ownblood. Yea, risen again, and ever at the right hand of God, he makethintercession for you. If you hate him, is it not without a cause?"
The preacher had wholly forgotten himself in his subject; nor did selfintrude into the prayer that followed the sermon. Truly he seemed tostand in the immediate presence of Him who died on Calvary and roseagain, as he poured out his confessions of sins, his gratitude forredeeming love, his earnest petitions for perishing souls, blindly,wickedly hating without a cause this matchless, this loving,compassionate Saviour. And for Christ's own people, that their faithmight be strengthened, their love increased, that they might be veryzealous for the Master, abounding in gifts and prayers and labors forthe upbuilding of his cause and kingdom.
"The very man we should have here, if he can be induced to come," Mr.Dinsmore said in a quiet aside to his daughter as the congregation beganto disperse, going out silently or conversing in subdued tones; for theearnest, solemn discourse had made a deep impression.
"Yes, papa. Oh, I should rejoice to hear such preaching every Sabbath!"was Elsie's answer.
"And I," Mr. Embury said, overhearing her remark. "But Mr. Keith gave usexpressly to understand that he did not come as a candidate; he is herefor his health or recreation, being worn out with study and pastoralwork, as I understand."
"Keith?" exclaimed Mr. Dinsmore. "I thought there was somethingfamiliar in his face. Elsie, I think he must belong to our Keiths."
"We must find out, papa," she said. "Oh, I shall be glad if he does!"
"Shall I bring him up and introduce him?" Mr. Embury asked. "Ah, here heis!" as, turning about, he perceived the young minister close at hand.
"Dinsmore! Travilla! those are family names with us!" the latter said,with an earnest, interested look from one to the other as theintroductions were made.
"As Keith is with us," Mr. Dinsmore answered, grasping his hand. "Iopine that I am speaking to a grandson of my cousin Marcia Keith and herhusband, Stuart Keith, of Pleasant Plains, Indiana?"
"Yes, sir; I am the son of Cyril, their second son, and bear the samename. And you, sir, are the Cousin Horace of whom I have so often heardmy grandmother and Aunt Mildred speak?"
"The same."
"And Mrs. Travilla is Cousin Elsie?" turning to her with a look of greatinterest and pleasure mingled with admiration; but which quickly changedto one of intense, sorrowful sympathy as he noticed her widow's weeds.He had often heard of the strong attachment between herself andhusband, and this was the first intimation he had had of herbereavement.
She read his look and gave him her hand silently, her heart too full forspeech.
"You will go home with us, of course," said Mr. Dinsmore, afterintroducing his wife and the other ladies of the family.
"And stay as long as you possibly can," added Elsie, finding her voice."Papa and I shall have a great many questions to ask about our cousins."
"I shall be most happy to accept your kind invitation, if Mr. Emburywill excuse me from a prior engagement to dine and lodge with him,"replied Mr. Keith, turning with a smile to the proprietor of MagnoliaHall, who was still standing near in a waiting attitude.
"I am loath to do so," he said, pleasantly, "but relatives have thefirst claim. I will waive mine for the present, in your favor, Mrs.Travilla, if you will indemnify me by permission to call frequently atViamede while Mr. Keith stays; and afterward, if you don't find me abore. I might as well make large demands while I am about it."
"Being in a gracious mood, I grant them, large as they are," sheresponded, in the same playful tone that he had used. "Come whenever itsuits your convenience and pleasure, Mr. February."
"Viamede!" said Mr. Keith, meditatively, as they drove homeward. "Iremember hearing Aunt Mildred talk of a visit she paid there many yearsago, when she was quite a young girl, and you, Cousin Elsie, were a merebaby."
"Yes," said old Mr. Dinsmore. "It was I who brought her. Horace was awayin Europe at the time, and the death of Cameron, Elsie's guardian, madeit necessary for me to come on and attend to matters. Mildred wasvisiting us at Roselands that winter, and I was very glad to secure heras travelling companion. Do you remember anything about it, Elsie?"
"Not very much, grandpa," she said: "a little of Cousin Mildred'skindness and affection; something of the pain of parting from my dearhome and the old servants. But I have a very vivid recollection of avisit paid to Pleasant Plains with papa," and she turned to him with adeeply affectionate look, "shortly before his marriage. I then saw AuntMarcia, as both she and papa bade me call her, and Cousin Mildred andall the others, not forgetting Uncle Stewart. We had a delightful visit,had we not, papa?"
"Yes, I remember we enjoyed it greatly."
"I was just then very happy in the prospect of a new mamma," Elsie wenton, with a smiling glance at her loved stepmother, "and papa was so verygood as to allow me to tell of my happiness to the cousins. Your fatherwas quite a tall lad at that time, Cousin Cyril, and very kind to hislittle cousin, who considered him a very fine young gentleman."
"He is an elderly man now," remarked his son. "You have seen AuntMildred and some others of the family since then?"
"Yes, several times; she and a good many of the others were with us atdifferent times during the Centennial. But why did you not let us knowof your coming, Cousin Cyril? why not come directly to us?"
"It was a sudden move on my part," he said, "and indeed I was not awarethat I was coming into the neighborhood of Viamede, or that you werethere. But I am delighted that it is so--that I have the opportunity tobecome acquainted with you and to see the place, which Aunt Mildreddescribed as a paradise upon earth."
"We think it almost that, but you shall judge for yourself," she said,with a pleased smile.
"Beautiful! enchanting! the half had not been told me!" he exclaimed indelight, as, a few moments later, he stood upon the veranda gazing outover the emerald ve
lvet of the lawn, bespangled with its many hued andlovely flowers, and dotted here and there with giant oaks, gracefulmagnolias, and clusters of orange trees laden with their delicate,sweet-scented blossoms and golden fruit, to the lakelet whose watersglittered in the sunlight, and the fields, the groves and hills beyond.
"Ah, if earthly scenes are so lovely, what must heaven be!" he added,turning to Elsie a face full of joyful anticipation.
"Yes," she responded in low, moved tones, "how great is theirblessedness who walk the streets of the Celestial City! How their eyesmust feast upon its beauties! And yet--ah, methinks it must be long erethey can see them, for gazing upon the lovely face of Him whose bloodhas purchased their right to enter there."
"Even so," he said. "Oh, for one glimpse of His face! Dear cousin," andhe took her hand in his, "let the thought of the 'exceeding and eternalweight of glory' your loved one is now enjoying, and which you will oneday share with him, comfort you in your loneliness and sorrow."
"It does, it does!" she said tremulously, "that and the sweet sense ofHis abiding love, and presence who can never die and never change. I amfar from unhappy, Cousin Cyril. I have found truth in those beautifulwords,
'Then sorrow touched by Thee, grows bright With more than rapture's ray, As darkness shows us worlds of light We never saw by day.'"
They had been comparatively alone for the moment, no one near enough tooverhear the low-toned talk between them.
The young minister was greatly pleased with Viamede--the more so themore he saw of it--and with his new-found relatives, the more and betterhe became acquainted with them; while they found him all his earnest,scriptural preaching had led them to expect.
His religion was not a mask, or a garment to be worn only in the pulpitor on the Sabbath, but permeated his whole life and conversation; as wasthe case with most if not all of those with whom he now sojourned; andlike them, he was a happy Christian; content with the allotments ofGod's providence, walking joyously in the light of his countenance,making it the one purpose and effort of his life to live to God's gloryand bring others to share in the blessed service.
He was strongly urged to spend the Winter at Viamede as his cousin'sguest, and preacher to the two churches.
He took a day or two to consider the matter, then, to the greatsatisfaction of all concerned, consented to remain, thanking his cousinswarmly for their kindness in giving him so sweet a home; for they madehim feel that he was entirely one of themselves, always welcome in theirmidst, yet at perfect liberty to withdraw into the seclusion of his ownapartments whenever duty or inclination called him to do so.
The well-stocked library supplied him with all needed books, there wereservants to wait upon him, horses at his disposal, in short, nothingwanting for purposes of work or of recreation. Again and again he saidto himself, or in his letters to those in the home he had left, that"the lines had fallen to him in pleasant places."
In the meantime Elsie found the truth as expounded by him from Sabbathto Sabbath, and in the week-day evening service and the family worship,most comforting and sustaining; while his intelligent, agreeableconversation and cheerful companionship were most enjoyable at othertimes.
"Cousin Cyril" soon became a great favorite with those who claimed theright to call him so, and very much liked and looked up to by Isadore,Molly, and the rest to whom he was simply Mr. Keith.
In common with all others who knew them, he admired his young cousins,Elsie and Violet, extremely, and found their society delightful.
Molly's sad affliction called forth, from the first, his deepestcommiseration; her brave endurance of it, her uniform cheerfulness underit, his strong admiration and respect.
Yet he presently discovered that Isadore Conly had stronger attractionsfor him than any other woman he had ever met. It was not her beautyalone, her refinement, her many accomplishments, but principally hernoble qualities of mind and heart, gradually opening themselves to hisview as day after day they met in the unrestrained familiar intercourseof the home circle, or walked or rode out together, sometimes in thecompany of others, sometimes alone.
Mr. Embury made good use of the permission Mrs. Travilla had grantedhim, and occasionally forestalling Cyril's attentions, led the latter tolook upon him as a rival.
Molly watched it all, and though now one and now the other devoted anhour to her, sitting by her side in the house doing his best toentertain her with conversation, or pushing her wheeled chair about thewalks in the beautiful grounds, or taking her out for a drive, thoughtboth were in pursuit of Isa.
It was their pleasure to wait upon Isa, Elsie and Vi, while pity andbenevolence alone led them to bestow some time and effort uponherself--a poor cripple whom no one could really enjoy taking about.
She had but a modest opinion of her own attractions, and would havebeen surprised to learn how greatly she was really admired by bothgentlemen, for her good sense, her talent, energy and perseverancein her chosen line of work, and her constant cheerfulness; howbrilliant and entertaining they often found her talk, pronouncingit "bright, sparkling, witty;" how attractive her intellectualcountenance, and her bright, dark, expressive eyes.
Elsie's Widowhood Page 13
