CHAPTER XXXIII.

“Then you do not wholly ignore the church,” said the village pastor to

Hugh, after a long and earnest conversation upon religious and social

topics.

“I do not. But I deny that its limitations and its dogmas can control

the growing mind, and believe it to be wrong for the church to assume

or desire to do so. As a great, leading guidance to popular thought, I

would combine the church with the theatre-.”

“The theatre!” exclaimed the minister, holding up both hands in holy

surprise. “You don't mean that we should turn the sanctuary into a

play-house? I tremble for the age, sir, indeed I do, if such views are

to be tolerated.”

“Not turn the church into a theatre, but combine the two, and with the

good that is to be derived from each, form a perfect temple.”

“But the theatre is a temple of evil,” remarked the pastor.

“Not so. Because it has at times been perverted and made to contribute

to what we denominate 'evil,' is no reason why the theatre should be

condemned. For the same reason we might condemn the church, for it,

also, has in some periods of its history been made the means of base

oppression and wrong-doing; it has drenched fields with blood, and

slaughtered innocent beings by thousands.”

“But that was not the true church.”

“Neither in the former case, was it the true theatre; for the theatre,

when confined to its legitimate purpose, is the greatest moral

instructor the world has ever known. Were you accustomed to visit the

theatre, as I know you are not, you would find that the triumph of

the right is always applauded by the audience, while the tricks and

momentary successes of evil-doers are invariably condemned. This proves

more correctly the tendency of the theatre than all the homilies of

those who spin fine-threaded arguments from the pulpit and the press.

Why, my dear sir, the church itself is unconsciously passing to the

theatre, and the theatre equally unconsciously passing to the church.

Witness the fairs, the school exhibitions, the tableaux, and the private

dramatic entertainments of the former, and the Sabbath evening services

within the walls of the latter. Does not this condition point to the

ultimate combination I have spoken of?”

The pastor sat for a long time in deep thought. At length he looked up

to Hugh, as though relenting from his inward desire to be true to what

was obviously the right, though contrary to public opinion, and said:

“I hope the day of its coming is far distant, Mr. Wyman; I fear your

views would destroy all religious sentiment, and make us a godless

people.”

“What do you consider 'religion' sir?” responded Hugh; “merely attending

to the outer forms, or living an earnest life?”

“Living a blameless life, to be sure, while attending to the outer

forms; not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together.”

“Which is right, but which is the very smallest part of the christian's

battle. What I call a religious life, is paying tribute to all the arts

of living. Everything which contributes to the health and happiness of

mankind, is to me of vital importance, and a chief part of my religion.

My christianity leads me to build the best house I can with my means,

and to furnish it in good taste, that the sentiment of its inmates may

be uplifted. It extends to every department-to the food, the garden, the

dress, the amusements, to every social want; in fact to everything which

elevates the standard of life. Religion to me, is living in all that

elevates, therefore I love the temple in which we all congregate, and

believe it ought to be decked with every form of art.”

“I think you are right, thus far; I do not, myself, like the barren

walls of the present style of churches.”

“That is one step; you have taken that; I have taken another, and see

that the drama is as much a part of God's method of elevating mankind as

flowers and music. Ere long you will see it as I do. The church of

the present day is too cold for me; it does not call forth the deep

sentiment of my being, therefore I come near to God through Nature.

When the church is divested of theology, and has enshrined the beautiful

within its walls, I shall be happy to be among those who 'assemble,' for

all need the magnetic life of assemblies to complete the cycle of their

existence. I do not like a fractional life, one which seizes some parts

and discards others. In the present age of transition, the best minds

are thrown out of the sanctuary, waiting for the perfect temple, where

they can worship in fulness of soul and purpose.”

“Yet all are better for the assembling, are they not, even in its

imperfect state, as you term it?”

“It is well and good for all, but not so essential to some as to

others. Some natures are so alive to sentiment and life, so infused with

religious thought, that they live deeper and more prayerful, more Godly

in one hour, than others do in a hundred years. Every emotion reveals to

such the presence of the Deity. To them each hour is one of worship, and

every object a shrine. No words of man can quicken their feeling to a

brighter flame, for such commune with God. The dew and the flower, speak

unto them of their father's protecting care. The manifestations of their

daily lives, replete with heavenly indications, tell that God is nigh.

'Day unto day uttereth speech,' and to such all hours are holy. The

heart which is attuned to life, is full of worship. Every manifestation,

whether of joy or woe, brings God near; and the world becomes the

temple. Religion should come through life and be lived. It is in the

dress, in the kitchen, in the parlor, in books, in theatres, in fact in

all forms of life. Theology is dead to the people. They want the living,

vital present, with no dogmas nor sectarian limitations to keep their

souls from growing.”

The pastor felt the force of Hugh's remarks, and the weakness of any

argument he might bring to bear against them. The truth kept pressing

upon his mind, and he felt that he might be obliged to relinquish his

long-cherished opinions.

Thus we lose, day by day, one opinion after another. They wear away, and

we lay them aside like worn garments that have served their purpose.

The greatest error of the past has been the belief that opinions and

surroundings must be continuous and unchanging. When we look to Nature

we learn a different lesson. She is ever changing and reproducing. The

world's opinion holds too many back. One dare not go forward and live

out his or her life, for fear of a neighbor or friend, and in this way

is retarded the full flow of inspiration to all. Strength in one, is

strength in many; and he who dares to strike out in an individual path,

has the strength of all who admire the bravery of the act. Time is too

precious to pattern; let each one seek to do his own peculiar work, for

each soul has a separate mission upon earth, though we may all labor

apparently in the same direction. Of a thousand persons taking the same

journey, each would see something which none other would. Each soul we

meet in life has a new voice, a new truth to utter, or a new method

of presenting an already known truth to our minds. Each arouses a new

sentiment within us, touches some tender emotion delicately, while

another grates on our senses like harsh music, until we go searching

for harmony and rest and we find treasures of thought within us which we

should never have known had we not thus been driven to the depths of our

being. All help us, then, to higher states; those who tranquilize us,

and those who disharmonize us till we fain would withdraw to our soul's

innermost for peace. We must look at life on the grandest scale, if we

would find rest. A limited vision gives us nought but atoms, fragments

floating in seeming disorder; but the mountain view gives the spirit all

the vales and hills, and shows them as parts of an extensive landscape,

a complete and perfect whole.

“I think it will be a long time before I can see these things as you

do,” remarked the pastor, after a long period of thought. “I fear your

radicalism on on this and some other questions, Mr. Wyman, will injure

society, if broadly disseminated.”

“I do not think that you understand my views upon marriage, any more

than you comprehend them on religious subjects.”

“I hear that you give the fullest license to men and women, to sever

their bonds and unite themselves to others.”

“In one sense I do, sir; in another, nothing can be farther from me. I

boldly assert everywhere, that men and women should not live together

in daily inharmony, and give birth to children to inherit and perpetuate

their angularities and discordances. You, yourself, if you spoke without

prejudice and fear of the world, would say the same.”

“But ought they not to try to live in harmony?”

“Most surely; but what if they cannot; if the magnetic life is consumed?

If those whose union is so, merely in a legal sense, feel that in

continuing that union they are daily losing life, power, and mental

force, they should surely separate. I had much rather see such bonds

severed than to witness the soul-harrowing sight I do every day of

my life-parties fearing public opinion, and dragging each other down,

living false and licentious lives-”

“What, sir! Licentious lives?”

“Certainly. Licentiousness is not all outside of wedlock. Every day and

hour, children are being ushered into the world without love or true

parentage-left in the hands of hired, and often vicious and ignorant

servants, while those who should care for them, spend their time

in folly and pleasure,--children undesired, enfeebled mentally and

physically, with no love-sphere to enfold them-offspring of legalized

prostitution, nothing more nor less.”

“I think myself, sir,” said the pastor, deliberately, “that many

children are born thus, but how does this evil affect the other form of

licentiousness, which is so on the increase?”

“It is very closely allied to it. Let married parties see that they give

birth to pure, harmonious children, and the 'social evil' is blotted out

forever. The evil of our life to-day is traceable to offspring, born of

false and foolish mothers-of wild and reckless fathers.”

“It's a great evil, I own, but how can we avert it?”

“By making our marriages pure and holy, and by changing our relations

after the life of each is exhausted.”

“But what would become of the children?”

“That is another question, and one which would settle itself. The order

of all life is by steps; these we cannot overleap. One truth enfolds

another. If the marriage system was perfect, or the relation between the

sexes understood, we should not see, as we now do, manifestations which

force us continually to question the existence of a God, and to be ever

in search of the disturbing cause. Something is needed, sir, in our

present social system to make us pure, and that something, is less

restraint, and more personal freedom. We never become pure under

restraint. All who know me, know that I seek to bring the sexes into

pure and holy communion of spirit. Walls and partitions have ever

produced clandestine movements. Boys and girls in schools should not be

separated, but should meet each other daily; their studies, their sports

be one as far as possible, thus blending their natures, not hividing

them. If men lived more in the society of women they would be astonished

to find how much purer and higher-toned their nature would become; how

the mental assimilation was refining their wilder dispositions, their

grosser passions. If such was your experience, you would tell me in one

year that men and women do not mingle enough.”

“I think you mean well,” said the pastor, “and if I had your faith

in personal freedom, I should almost dare to hope the earth might see

better days.”

“I wish you had my trust in man, and the God-life which is within him,

waiting to be out-wrought through his deeds. But my faith cannot be

transmitted to another; it is a matter of inward growth with each.

It comes to us when our souls soar above the labarynthian forest of

opinions and theories, high into the clearer atmosphere, untainted by

the dust and smoke of our daily lives. Yes; on the mount must the vision

ever come. We must ascend, if we would look beyond; but no words of ours

can portray to another the glory of the scenes we there behold.”

Hugh paused, and his face seemed glowing with light. The pastor went

home to think over the words and thoughts of an earnest soul-words which

sank deep within him, and displaced many of his own opinions.

“I do believe Hugh Wyman is a good man, after all that is said of

him,” he remarked to his wife as he opened his Bible that night for the

closing service of the day.

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