As this is the first religious letter Miss Ruth Erskine ever wrote, you shall be gratified with a copy of it:
"DEAR HAROLD:
"I am alone in the tent this evening—the girls have all gone to meeting; but I, finding it exhaustive, not to say tiresome, to be so constantly listening to sermons, have staid at home to write to you. I have something to tell you which I know will please you. I am going to start for Saratoga to-morrow morning. I think I shall take the 10:50 train. Now don't you make up your mind to laugh at me and say that I have grown tired of Chautauqua sooner than any of the rest. It is true enough.
"You know my mode of life and my enjoyments are necessarily very different from Eurie's and Marion's. Those two naturally look upon this place as an escape from every-day drudgery; in short, as an economical place in which to enjoy a vacation and see a good deal of first-class society; for there are a great many first-class people here, there is no denying that. Not many from our set, you know, but a great many celebreties in the literary world that it is really very pleasant to see.
"I am not sorry that I came; if for nothing else I am glad to have come on the girls' account; they would hardly have ventured without me, and it is a real treat to them.
"You will wonder what has become of poor little Flossy, and want to know whether she is going to follow me to Saratoga as usual, but the little sprite refuses to go! I fancy Marion has been teasing her; you know she is very susceptible to ridicule, and it suits Marion's fancy to amuse herself at the expense of those people who weary of Chautauqua. She has attempted something of the kind on me, but, of course I am indifferent to any such shafts, having been in the habit of leading, rather than following, all my life. It seems natural, I suppose, to do so still. I think well of Chautauqua. It is a good place for people to come who have not much money to spend, and who like to be in a pleasant place among pleasant people; and who enjoy fine music, and fine lectures, and all that sort of thing, and are so trammelled by work and small means at home that they cannot cultivate these tastes. But, of course, all these things are no treat to me, and I do not hesitate to tell you that I am bored. There is too much preaching to suit my fancy—not real preaching, either, for we haven't had what you could call a sermon until to-day, but lectures, which constantly bring the same theme before you.
"Now you are not to conclude from this that I do not believe in preaching, and Sunday, and all that sort of thing; on the contrary, I believe more fully in them all than I did before I came. In fact I have this very afternoon come to a determination which may surprise you, and which is partly the occasion of my writing this letter, in order that you may know at once what to expect. Harold, as soon as the season is over, and I get back home, I am going to unite with the church? Have I astonished you! I am going to do this from a conviction of duty. You need not imagine that I have been wrought up to such a pitch of excitement that I don't know what I am about. I assure you there is nothing of the kind. I have simply concluded that it is an eminently proper thing to do. So long as I believe fully in the church and in religion, and wish to sustain both by my money and my influence, why should I not say so? That is a very simple and altogether proper way of saying it, and saves a good deal of troublesome explanation. I wonder that I haven't thought of it before.
"I do not mind telling you that it was some remarks of Marion's that first suggested the propriety of this thing to me. You know she is an infidel and I am not; and she intimated what is true enough, that I lived exactly as though I thought just as she did; so in thinking it over I concluded it was true, and that my influence ought to be with the church in this matter. Now you know, Harold, that with me to decide is to do; so this is as good as done. I should like it very well if you choose to come to the same conclusion and unite at the same time that I do. I am sure Dr. Dennis would be gratified. I don't know why we shouldn't be willing to have it known where we stand; and I know you respect the church and trust her as well as I do myself.
"I told Marion to-day 'I did not see how a person with brains could be an infidel,' or something to that effect—and I don't. I think that is such a silly view to take of life. Just as if everything could come by chance! And if God did not make everything, who did? I have no patience with that sort of thing, and I am glad to remember that you have no such tastes.
"By the way, are the Arnotts in Saratoga? I hope not, for they are such fanatics there is no comfort in meeting them, and yet one has to be civil.