Christine: Or Woman's Trials and Triumphs

20. The Field Is the World

160 ch a p ter t w en t y The Field Is the World The next morning, as she thought of her last evening’s vow, she almost shuddered. What had she done? The glow of enthusiasm had faded away; she saw now that she had committed herself to a cause which was ridiculed by many and supported by but few. What could she do, a weak woman, single-handed and alone? “No, not alone,” she exclaimed. “God will be with me.” But this thought could not prevent her from seeing that it was a difficult undertaking to which she had devoted herself. She knew she must experience the opposition of her friends, the hootings and revilings of the mob, the sneers even of those for whom she was laboring. Could she endure all this? For a moment her heart sunk within her; but she despised herself for her momentary discouragement —all this should not daunt her, and with a firm purpose, she went to see her friend. “Howisit,Christine?”askedMrs.Warner,“Areyoureadytolead the way, to be the voice of ‘one crying in the wilderness?’”35 Christine’s only reply was to put into her friend’s hand the following lines which she had composed the preceding night.   Christine 161 We have loved, and we have parted, That bright dream is in the past— Yet I am not broken-hearted, Life is not all overcast. True, the present gives no promise That the star of love shall rise, Gleaming with its olden radiance In the future’s cloudy skies. Hope, the flatterer, long hath left me, She who lingers to the last, Yet my heart repeats, not sadly, It is over—it is past. It is past. For me no longer Shall love’s fragrant blossoms bloom; Those I gathered long since faded, Long since lost their sweet perfume. Yet I bless that star which lighted For awhile my young life’s sky— And I bless those flowers, though blighted, That around me withered lie. Ah! those words—I love, I am loved, Once had power my soul to thrill, And I know that of earth’s pleasures Then my being had its fill. It is past! and I am grateful For that wild, bewildering draught; Now I fling aside the chalice, All whose waters I have quaffed. Onward now I press, perceiving That love is not all of life, And, with heart and soul undaunted, Haste to join earth’s din and strife. I have taken up my burden Which I shrank from far too long— Christine 162 Labor leads to life eternal, Is my battle-cry and song. And the star which lights my pathway, Is the star of faith in God; And white flowers of peace are springing In the parched ground where I trod. God hath given living waters, That have made my thirst to cease; Over rough ways, He hath led me To the path of perfect peace. Mrs. Warner read the stanzas, and, as she finished their perusal , she exclaimed, in a tone of the greatest enthusiasm— “I have not lived entirely in vain. Christine, you will go on from height to height. Your clear voice will ring out words of power that will startle the sleepers—words of encouragement that will cheer the toilers who strive to reach your high eminence . People will call you blessed! They will reverence you as one who walks with God; and, though no one will think of her who led you to the altar and consecrated you as a priestess —though no one will know whose voice made clear to you the oracles of God in your own heart, yet is my silent triumph none the less great. I shall rejoice in all your successes! My secret labors have not been unseen. His eye, from whom no secret is hid, has marked them all, and blessed me in seeing the fruit of my labors.” Christine looked at her friend’s kindling eye and heavenly smile. She could not bear to check her high hopes, her lofty enthusiasm; but before her rose all the difficulties of the rugged road over which she was to pass, and the dark side of the picture, whose brightness was all that seemed to meet the vision of her friend. “God grant that I, too, may see the fruit of my toils before I am called out of the vineyard...