The Preacher of Cedar Mountain: A Tale of the Open Country
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CHAPTER LXII
When He Walked With the King
He must have been a huge, unwieldy egotistical brute who said, "Big menhave ever big frames." He might have had Samuel Johnson, Walter Scott,Lincoln or Washington in mind; but, standing ready there to hurl theglib lie in his teeth, were Napoleon, Hamilton, St. Paul, Tamerlane, andthe Rev. Dr. Jo. Belloc, President of the Western Theological College inChicago. He was five feet high in his stockinged feet, thin and wiry,with a large gray head, a short gray beard and keen gray eyes ofpiercing intensity. When you saw him on the street, you hardly saw himat all; when you met him in a crowded room, you felt that the spiritbehind those eyes was a strong one; and when you heard him speak, hegrew tall and taller in your eyes--you instinctively removed your hat,for now you knew that a great man and teacher was here.
Why should such a one devote his power to mere denominationalism? Ah,you do not understand. He answered thus to a hostile critic: "My friend,the harvest is huge, the labourers are few; we need more, and many morethan we have. If they be of simple sort and not too strong, we teachthem the sweep and cut of the scythe, the width of the swathe, theheight of the stubble, the knot of the sheaf-band, all that is safe,neither to waste the crop, nor their time, nor cut their fellowharvesters in the legs. But, if we find a giant with his own mode, whocuts a double swath, leaves ragged stubble, smashes oft his scythe, butsaves a wondrous lot of grain, we say: 'Praise God! You're doing well;the rules are for the helpless as the fence is for the sheep; but you wejudge by your results; keep on.'"
Dr. Belloc was in his office when there came for an interview a man whotowered above him as they shook hands. The president motioned him to aseat; then as he turned those piercing eyes on the comely countenance ofhis caller, the prophet's description of the youthful David came to hismind, "Now, he was ruddy and withal of a beautiful countenance andgoodly to look to."
"What can I do for you?" asked the big little man who filled the room,but did not fill the chair.
Jim modestly stated that he believed he had a call to preach the Gospeland he wished to enter college. Then, in answer to questions, he toldhis story with simple sincerity and fervour. The keen gray eyes wereglowing like coals, and although no word was spoken by the man whosesoul looked through them, Jim felt his earnest, kindly spirit. He felt,as never before, that "here is one who understands. Here is one in whomI have absolute confidence. Here is one whom I should love to obey."
This leader stirred Jim to the depths. His best, his inmost soul cameforth to speak in response to the master mind; and the older man smiledwhen he heard how the Preacher had hated the books at Coulter."Coulter," he said, "is a good old college, we accept their entrance;but it is quite likely that our curriculum may more quickly win yourinterest than theirs did."
As the president pondered the question that had brought them together,the second part of the lines of Samuel's description of David rose inhis mind: "Arise and anoint him, for this is he." But the college hadits own way of saying these big things; documents, questions, boards,had each a bearing on the matter, or a drop of ink to spend, and eachoffered a delay to the decisive action that the President had then andthere resolved on. But they slowly ran their course and in the earlyautumn Jim was back, a college boy, and Belle had taken up the ruler'spost at the Club.
It was easier every month for Jim to fight the battle with the books,where before he had been badly beaten. No doubt he was helped by hisdetermination to win the fight and by Belle; but the two great reasonswere that he, himself, was more developed--had outgrown the childishrestlessness of the first attempt; and last but strongest of all, wasthe compelling personality of the president. With what consummate tacthad he first offered to Jim's wild spirit the concrete, the simple, thehistory of to-day, the things that clearly were of immediate use; andlater--much later, and in lesser degree--the abstruse, the doctrinal.And when the younger mind of the student came to a place that seemed toohard, or met a teacher who was deadening in his dullness, it needed buta little heart-to-heart talk with the strong soul in the robe to bracehim up, to spur him on.
The president soon discovered Jim's love for heroic verse and at once,by wise selection, made it possible to tie that up with books. When Jimbetrayed his impatience of fine-split doctrines, the president bade himforget them and read the lives of Luther, Calvin, and Wesley--take inthe facts; the principles, so far as they had value, would take care ofthemselves. Such methods were unknown to his former teachers. Suchpresentation--vivid, concrete, human--was what he could understand, andaccept with joy.
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Two years went by. The first six months seemed slow; The last eighteenall too rapid. Jim had won his fight, he had more than won, for he wasvaledictorian of his class. The graduation class was much like anyother, as the world could see it, yet it differed, too. When the tallform of the student speaker was left standing alone on the platform,there were not lacking those who said: "Never before has one gone fromthese halls so laden with good gifts; all, all seems showered on him."
In the audience, bound by closer ties than kinship, was one whose heartwas too full for any human utterance. For her it was the crowning oftheir lives; had she not helped to make it possible?
After the set programme was over, Dr. Belloc handed to Jim an officialletter. It was a call to be the pastor of the church in Cedar Mountain.Jim could not see the typed words for his tears and the president tookit from him to read aloud. As he listened to the words Jim's thoughtturned to his mother, and in his heart he prayed: "O, God, grant this:that she may see me now."
Reader of this tale, do you recall the history of Cedar Mountain--howthe church grew strong in the newly given strength? Those of manydiverse churches came, for they said: "We care not what the vessel'sshape that draws the blessed water from the well, so long as it bealways there and the water pure and plentiful." Then came the great goldstrike in the near hills; and the Preacher was troubled till he learnedthat it had not touched his mountain. Another railway came, and the towngrew big and bigger yet. There were those that feared that theirPreacher might leave them, for the needs and calls of the great citiesare ever loud and forceful. They said: "Our town is not big enough forsuch a man; he will surely go to the city." But it was not so; for thecity came to the man and mightily grew about him.
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Two years after the return to Cedar Mountain, late in the day,designedly late, two horses might have been seen ascending the crookedtrail through the cedars that mantled the mountain. Familiar forms werethese that rode. They had often taken this path before. The first wasthe Preacher; the second, the woman that had held his hand. But in herarms was another--the baby form of their first-born. This was theirfirst long ride together since he came, this was the elected trail; and,as the big, red sun went down in the purple and gold of his curtains,Jim took the baby and led the way up the last rough trail, to the littleupland, right to the Spirit Rock. The red symbols of the Indians hadbeen recently renewed; in a crevice was a shred of tobacco wrapped inred-dyed grass. It was still a holy place, accounted so by those whoknew it.
From the bundle that he carried on his back, Jim took a handful offirewood, a canteen of water, and a church baptismal bowl. He filled thebowl and set it on the lowest ledge of the Spirit Rock. Before the rockhe lighted a little fire and, when it blazed, he dropped into the flamesthe tobacco from the crevice. "That is what they wished done with it,"he said in reverence. When the thread of smoke went up nearly straightinto the sky--an emblem of true prayer that has ever been--he kneeled,and Belle beside him with the little one kneeled, and he prayed to theGod of the Mountain for continued help and guidance and returned thanksfor the little one whom they had brought that day to consecrate to Him.
Jim wished it. Belle willed it. His mother, he knew, would have had itso. There seemed no better place than this, the holiest place his hearthad ever known. There was no better time than this, the evening calm,with all the sym
bols of His Presence in their glory.
Belle handed the infant to Jim, who sprinkled water on its face,baptizing it in the form of the Church, and then added: "I consecratethee to God's service, and I name thee William in memory of the friendof my childhood, a man of wayward life, but one who helped to buildwhatever there is in me of strength, for he never was afraid, and heever held his simple word as a bond that might not be broken."
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