The passing of a year added immensely to the fame of the pastor1 of the Pilgrim Church. His sermons now reached twenty millions of people through the daily press every Monday morning. It had become necessary to issue tickets of admission to the members and admit them by a small door that was cut beside the large ones.
Van Meter had ceased to be of sufficient importance for serious notice. The growth of Gordon’s influence within the year had been so rapid, he found he had set out to fight a flea2 with artillery3.
The old man felt his eclipse with bitterness. He had quit talking much, but writhed4 in silent fury at the sight of this tall athlete with his conquering gray eyes and smooth, serious face. Yet he was a regular attendant. The preacher’s eloquence5, the vibrant6 tones of his voice, full of passion, or trembling with prophetic zeal7, and the whole drama of a living militant8 church with this daring revolutionist at its head, risen from the grave of the old, fascinated him in spite of his hatred9.
In the local development of the church Kate Ransom10 had become, next to the pastor, the most important factor. She had shown strong administrative11 talent, had organized kindergartens, night-schools for teaching domestic science to girls, established a reading-room, and opened a coffee house on the corner near the church, fitting it up with the magnificence of a saloon, with free lunch counter, music and singing. It was crowded with working-men and women every night.
Her work had brought her in daily contact with Gordon, and their comradeship had become so constant and so sweet that neither of them dared face the problem of its meaning.
To the woman the man had become little less than her God. Their daily life, its hopes, its poetry, its dreams of social and civic12 salvation13, were enough in themselves: she did not analyse or question.
For the man, this fair woman, beautiful in face and form beyond the flight of his fancy, and loyal in the worship of his strength, as the soul of the strong man ever desires of his ideal woman, she had become a daily inspiration. And yet he had not acknowledged this even in a whisper of his soul.
In the meanwhile, his wife’s interest in music had ceased, and she was rarely seen at the church on Sundays or at its weekday functions. She had withdrawn14 from its life and had settled into a state of somber15 resentment16.
She would frequently sit through a meal eating little, speaking in monosyllables, her black eyes staring, wide open, and yet seeing nothing, looking past the things that bound her, back into the sunlit years of girlhood, or forward into the future whose shadow’s chill she felt already on her soul. Often he found her at night seated by the window in the dark alone, looking down on the city below.
She had ceased to ask him of his work or plans and he no longer troubled her with their discussion. Their lives were separated by an ever-widening gulf17.
Stimulated18 by a sermon he had preached in August of the previous summer, when the death-rate was at its highest, a wave of reform had swept over New York. In his sermon he had arraigned19 the city government in terms so trenchant20 and terrible the people had rallied as to a trumpet21 call to battle.
A resistless movement for the overthrow22 of a corrupt23 administration took the city by storm. Day and night with voice and pen, with all the fire and passion of his magnetic personality, he had led these assaults.
Complete success crowned the movement. The reform Mayor was elected by a large majority.
Ten months had passed and the net results were discouraging. Police scandals ran riot as of yore; gambling24, drinking and the social evil flourished as before; and the press, that had valiantly25 and almost unanimously championed Reform, now exhausted26 upon it the vocabulary of abuse.
Gordon was disgusted and sickened and felt that one of his fairest dreams had been shattered forever.
The reaction from this reform programme had thrown him more than ever back upon his ideas of a Socialistic revolution which should destroy Commercialism itself, and he had become its enthusiastic champion.
Kate Ransom had followed his change of views with keenest sympathy. She had read every book after him and had responded to his every mood.
“No; we’re on the wrong tack27, with our half-way measures and our fitful charities,” he said to her.
“We must go deeper. We must make the Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood28 of Man our daily life, not merely a poetic29 theory.
“We have hundreds of beautiful-souled men and women giving their lives in sacrifice for the city’s poor and fallen. They seem to make little impression on its ocean of misery30. We are bailing31 out the sea with teaspoons32.”
“I feel you are right, as you always are,” she responded, unconscious of the contradiction.
“The Brotherhood of Man and the Solidarity33 of the Race we must make vital realities. Greed, commercialism, competition and the monopolistic instincts are the cause of all this crime and misery and confusion. Love, not force, must rule the world.”
“And you are the prophet to lead humanity into this Kingdom of Love,” she said, her eyes enfolding him with their soft blue light.
“I fear I’m too great a coward for such a task. The man who does it must break with the past, become accursed for the truth’s sake, defy social law and convention, breast the storm of the world’s hate, die despised, and wait for a nobler generation to place his name on the roll of the world’s heroes.”
“It is your work,” she cried with elation34.
“It’s a lonely way for the soul to travel.”
“You will have one loyal follower35 the blackest hour of the darkest night that comes.”
A curious smile played around her full lips, and he looked away, afraid to say anything.
“Yes, I know that,” he softly answered. “And I’m more afraid for that very reason.”
“I’m not afraid.” Her voice rang clear and thrilling.
“I wonder if you know the meaning of such words; or if you are thinking of one thing and I of another?” he slowly asked.
“I dare to think many things I’ve never dared to say,” she replied.
“A break must come sooner or later,” he went on. “No man of my temperament36 and brain can live under the conditions here, feel the grip of this cruelty on the throat of humanity, read and think, and endure it.”
“It seems to me a social revolution must come quickly.”
“I wondered if you had felt that?” Gordon asked, as he leaned back in his chair and locked his powerful hands behind his head. “This presentiment37 of overwhelming change haunts me day and night and makes many things seem childish and futile38.
“Ill and feverish39 from overwork one day last week, I stood by my window, looking down on the city, dreaming and listening to its cries for help, watching the sweep of the elevated trains coming and going, and I was overwhelmed with the immensity of its complex life. Our hurrying cars carry within the corporate40 limits daily more passengers than all the railroads of the western hemisphere. I thought of the rivers of human flesh that flow unceasingly through its streets and flood its market places. And these millions are but one wave of the ocean forever breaking on the shores of time, its tides everlasting41, insistent42, resistless, never pausing, behind them the pressure of the heaped centuries, and over them the lowering clouds of fresh storms soon to burst and add their tons.”
He paused and closed his eyes as though to shut out the roar, while she listened with half-parted lips.
“And as I looked out the window I had a startling experience. I saw a huge dragon-like beast begin to crawl slowly down from the hills and stretch his big claws over the housetops of the city below. I was not asleep or in a trance, but wide awake, only a little feverish. With increasing horror I watched this monster stretch his enormous body, covered with scales, and short hair growing between the scales, on and on, until he covered the city and gathered its thousands of houses within his huge paws. His eyes were enormous and blood-red, his breath hot.
“I moved back, gasping43 with surprise and horror, to find it was only a spider crawling down his slender thread on the window close to my eye. It was a fevered delusion44, but it haunted me for days, and haunts me still.
“I am growing in the conviction that the very foundations of morals are shifting, and that Religion, Society and Civilisation45 must readjust themselves or humanity sink into unspeakable degradation46.
“Belief in the old religious authority is gone. Our church is thronged47 because of a peculiar48 personal power with which I am endowed. I could wield49 that power without a church, society, creed50 or Bible. Esthetic51 forces now draw people to non-ritualistic churches that once came for prayer and preaching. The preacher must secularise his sermon or talk to vacant pews. Historic Christianity has been destroyed by Criticism. A thousand wild Isms nourish in the twilight52 of this eclipse of Faith, while Materialism53 and the Pursuit of Pleasure strangle out spiritual hopes.”
“And you are the seer called to lead out of this chaos,” the woman whispered. “I know this from my own life. But for you I would be listening to idiotic54 platitudes55, cultivating sham56, my very soul ‘crucified between a whimper and a smile.’ I owe it to you that I am a woman—not a cross between an angel and an idiot.”
The passion with which she said this, bending her beautiful face, flushed with emotion, so close to his that he caught the perfume of her mass of waving hair, went to the man’s head like wine.
“Why not spring our building scheme on the people at once, without authority from the Board of Trustees, and make it the rallying cry of the new Humanity?” he cried eagerly.
“I believe it will succeed,” she answered, her heart glowing with the consciousness of the intimacy57 of that little word “our” he had used.
She got pad and pencil, and Gordon dictated58 to her a plan for engaging every force of the church and its congregation and various societies in the project.
He fixed59 the Sunday on which to make the effort of his life in his appeal to the people of his congregation and the world for the million-dollar fund needed. It was eleven o’clock before they finished the discussion of the scheme, and aglow60 with enthusiasm he left for his home.
As he sat down in the car and lived over again his happiness of the past hours in this woman’s companionship the paradox61 of his return in a few minutes to the arms of his wife struck him squarely in the face for the first time.
He could not plead a mistake in his first love. His romance was genuine. He had loved with all the fire of his youth. The passion which drew him to Ruth was mutual62 and resistless. Yet its ardour had cooled. He could not say it was his fault, not altogether hers. It seemed as inevitable63 in its decline as its onrush was resistless. Yet at the thought of this new woman he felt his heart beat with quicker stroke. He was older and stronger than the youth of the past, and the woman more mature in the ripened64 glory of beauty.
Yet he began to recall with infinite tenderness the love life with Ruth. Its memories were very real and very sweet. And the faces of his children haunted him with strange power. The idea of a divorce from Ruth and the loss of these children cut him with sharp pain.
Had he outgrown65 his first love? Could he continue to live with one woman if he loved another? Was not this the one unpardonable sin and shame? And yet to break that bond and form the other if he could meant the end of associations in which the fibers66 of his very life were wrought67.
But was not this one of the burning problems of the new humanity, this freedom of the soul and body, this new birth into the liberty and love of a great Brotherhood? Was not sham and hypocrisy68 now the law of life, and was not Society perishing because of it?
Thus wrestling with the tragic69 dilemma70 he felt closing about him, he went past his station to the end of the line and had to take the down train back. It was past midnight when he reached his home.
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1
pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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flea
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| n.跳蚤 | |
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artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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6
vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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militant
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| adj.激进的，好斗的；n.激进分子，斗士 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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administrative
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| adj.行政的，管理的 | |
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civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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arraigned
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| v.告发( arraign的过去式和过去分词 )；控告；传讯；指责 | |
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20
trenchant
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| adj.尖刻的，清晰的 | |
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trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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23
corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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25
valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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28
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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29
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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31
bailing
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| （凿井时用吊桶）排水 | |
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32
teaspoons
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| n.茶匙( teaspoon的名词复数 )；一茶匙的量 | |
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solidarity
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| n.团结；休戚相关 | |
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elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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38
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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corporate
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| adj.共同的，全体的；公司的，企业的 | |
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41
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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42
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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43
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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44
delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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45
civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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46
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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47
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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49
wield
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| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
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50
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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51
esthetic
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| adj.美学的，审美的；悦目的，雅致的 | |
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52
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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53
materialism
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| n.［哲］唯物主义，唯物论；物质至上 | |
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54
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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55
platitudes
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| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
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56
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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59
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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paradox
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| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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66
fibers
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| 光纤( fiber的名词复数 )； （织物的）质地； 纤维，纤维物质 | |
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67
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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