No. 2.
A bright spring day I thought it was and I walked to the room of the Y.M.C.A., where a Union meeting was to be held. It was not quite three o'clock, but I met three or four ladies going in, who asked me if I was coming to the meeting, and upon my answering "Yes, if I may," she said, "Oh, certainly, come right in." One of them placed a seat for me as I went in, and brought me a hymn book, asking if I was a stranger in town and if I was a member of any Union. As I said I was a member of —— Union, she said, "Oh! then, you must tell us of the work there." Then moving away, and coming back with a lady, she introduced her as the president of the Union, and the president expressed her pleasure at meeting another sister interested in the work. Looking around the room, I saw a bouquet of flowers on the table, writing materials and reports. Just then the clock struck three, the president took her chair, gave out the hymn, "Work for the Night is Coming,' read the 146th Psalm, and engaged in prayer. The secretary then read the minutes. As the president asked, "Is there any objection to the minutes?" one lady said that the first resolution at last meeting was moved by Mrs. B., instead of Mrs. A. This was corrected and the minutes approved, no other objection being offered. The treasurer's reports and reports of different committees were read and adopted. The pledge books produced, and many signatures had been obtained. The president said, "Let us sing the doxology over this," and it was sung very heartily. I noticed that all the members spoke to "Mrs. President," not to each other, and there was no whispering. The officers at the table spoke so that all could hear. A short paper was then read on "How we may best help in Scott Act work." At the invitation of the writer this paper was discussed, some points objected to, additional methods proposed, and every body was interested and had learned something. The chairman of the Literature Committee said she would exchange books in the loan library at the close of the meeting. Miss S. was asked to prepare a paper for the next monthly meeting, and after a few words of earnest prayer offered by a young lady at the request of the president, the meeting adjourned. The president walked quickly to the door and shook hands heartily with each member as she passed out, asking kindly after sick ones and erring ones of the families. "You must come and see me to- morrow morning, and tell me all about it," I heard her say to a troubled sister. It was now ten minutes past four o'clock. As I walked along I overtook the troubled one, and said to her, "You had a good meeting to-day." Her face brightened as she replied, "Oh, we always have. I would not like to miss one of our meetings. It always helps me to go there and hear of the good work being done, and it makes me stronger to do my share of it. These meetings make you feel as if somebody cared for you." A group of young ladies were chatting with some gentlemen at the opposite corner, and I heard a clear, sweet voice say "We want you both as honorary members of our W.C.T.U. We are going to have some readings from Dickens and we need your help; you will join, won't you?" To which the gentlemen replied they "would be delighted," etc. Then my dream took me to a cozy home where a young man, just out of his teens, was saying to a lady I had seen before, "Mother, now the warm weather is coming, and you are not very strong, you had better give up your meetings." "Oh, no, my son," the lady said, "there is so much to be done, and it is such a pleasure to work with our ladies, we must keep right on." In my dream I came again. This time the Union met in a beautiful room of their own, furnished as a bright, pleasant parlor, with flowers and pictures and piano. Their numbers had increased, for the ladies came in groups till the room was nearly filled. I saw some of the old faces, the president was the same, a little older in appearance, her walk a little slower. As she took her place, the sun shone out full in my face and I awoke.
Was this, too, only a dream?
CHAPTER XI.
CONCLUSION.
To every child of God there comes a time, sooner or later, when a light from heaven having shone round about him, and seeing the great need of the world, he stands. Paul-like, before God, and asks: "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" As the answer came in the olden time, "I will shew him what things he must suffer," so the answer comes in these later days, and many of God's dear children have come to this Christian temperance work through suffering.
As Christian women, we have come down from the mount of consecration, where we have talked with Jesus, and at its base, have been met by the demon of Intemperance in every form. Friends have brought their loved ones to us, beseeching us to cast out the evil spirit, or, it may be, the monster has come into our homes, and household treasures here and there lie prostrate and helpless in the dust before God. With sad, shrinking hearts we look for a moment, then, with a twofold incentive, we take up our work. For the sake of our dear Saviour who did so much for us, whose face, sometimes, in our holiest hours, by faith we see, and whose voice we still hear, "Lo! I am with you always," and for the sake of the loved and the lost, or, more happily, the loved and reclaimed, we come to our work.
This work is intensely practical, and brings into requisition all the forces which go to make up Christian character. It means patient, persevering, persistent, self-denying labor; it means an intelligent consecration of time, money and ability which God may have given us, to be used in the carrying out of the good at which we aim; it means entering into fellowship with Christ, (in a very feeble sense, it is true,) in His broad sympathy with humanity, in His sacrificing love; it means, many times, to have our names cast out as evil, to brave the sneer and ridicule of fashionable society, to be willing to be misunderstood by those nearest and dearest to us; to some it means all this and more; still, with a firm conviction of duty, of being called of God, we come to this work. It may extend no further than our own homes, our own circle of friends; but if each build over against his own house, how strong the walls would be, how quickly they would rise!
We look out into the night and see here and there a star glimmering in the darkness, and we say, "How dark the night is; how few stars are to be seen!" We wait and watch, and soon the clouds are rolled away; we see the stars one by one coming out from the blackness, until the blue vault above us is covered with heavenly diamond dust, and we rejoice in its brilliancy.
So in our work. We see here and there a star coming out of the darkness; only a few to be seen after all the working and watching. By-and-by, God, in answer to our prayers, and giving the reward to faithful toil, shall roll away the clouds and mists that gather so thickly about our work here. We shall see not only here and there a star glimmering, but a host of shining ones, that God hath brought out of the darkness and covered over with an arch of His promises, where He has written, "They shall be mine in that day when I make up my jewels.' In that day, when we shall be permitted to see the polished gems in the keeping of the Holy One, we shall realize that no work for the Master has been done in vain. Here we toil amid the damp and fog and darkness, often underground, with no lamp save the promise of God, which is "a lamp to our feet, and a light to our path;" there we shall be with Him and behold His glory. Here, the sadness, the weariness, the discouragement, the "Why, Lord?" and "How?" there, the "Well done!" "Enter thou!" questions answered, longings satisfied, eternal rest and peace.