Tenderly Dawn looked upon her little group each day, and all the
maternal instincts of her nature sprang to the surface, as she thought
of their lives coming without their asking, forced upon them to be
battled out through storm and fire. Would that all parents might feel
the responsibility of maternity, as that pure being did, who gave the
richest, warmest current of her life to bear those children on. “He who
has most of heart, knows most of sorrow,” and many were the moments of
sadness that came to Dawn, as she saw beings who were recklessly brought
into life to suffer for the want of love and care. But, though sorrowed,
she never became morbid. She lived and worked by the light that was
given her, earnestly, which is all a mortal can do.
No season was complete to her which did not bring to her side Miss
Bernard, who seemed the complement of her very self. One warm summer
evening when the air was sweet with the breath of roses, they sat
together; earnest words flowing from soul to soul, and their natures
blending like the parts of a sweet melody; Dawn's high hope floating
above the rich undertone of the deep life-tide on which the soul of her
friend was borne.
“I have often wondered,” said Dawn, as she clasped the friendly palm
more tenderly, “if my life will be as firmly rooted as your own; if the
same rich calm will pervade my being.”
“If it be once full of agitation, it will surely be calm at last,” said
Miss Bernard, in that firm tone which indicates that the storms of life
are over, “for we are like the molten silver, which continues in a
state of agitation until all impurities are thrown off, and then becomes
still. We know no rest until the dross is burned away, and our Saviour's
face is seen reflected in our own.”
The moonlight fell on her features just then, almost transfiguring the
still, pale countenance. That holy moment brought them nearer than years
of common-place emotions, or any of the external excitements of life. A
tenderer revealing of their relation to each other flashed through
their hearts-a relation which the silvery moon, and still summer night
typified, as all our states find their analogies in the external world.
“I often query,” said Dawn, breaking the silence, “what portion of your
being I respond to?”
“I have often asked myself the same question. Dawn, of those whom I
loved, and in my earlier years felt ambitious to become the counterpart
of friends dear to my life. I have grown more humble now, and feel
content to fill, as I know I only can, a portion of any soul. I can
truly say, you touch and thrill every part of my being, if you do not
fill it, and that just now you answer to every part. With some, my being
stands still, I forget the past, and know no future. There is one who
thus acts upon me now, though many others have stirred me to greater
depths, and excited profounder sentiments,--this one calls forth the
tenderest emotions of my heart and stimulates me to kindlier deeds. Thus
do all in turn act and re-act upon each other, and what we need is to
know just how to define this relation, for the emotions it calls
forth are so often mistaken for those of love between the sexes, which
marriage seals, and in few years reveals the painful fact, that what was
supposed to be soul blending with soul, was only the union of a single
thought and feeling, while the remainder of their nature was wholly
unresponded to, its deepest and holiest aspirations unmated.”
“Do we not answer to each other now, because we are aglow with life, and
each susceptible to the others emotion?” asked Dawn.
“Something deeper,” said her friend. “It is because we are both
illumined by the divine essence which pervades all space and matter, as
the air surrounds this globe. We are both full, and reflect each other's
repletion. The theme is grand, and one which I would like to enlarge
upon to-night, before our states are changed to those harsher ones, in
which diviner truths are ever refracted.”
“I feel the force of your last assertion most thrillingly,” said Dawn,
“for I know that a purely mental condition is antagonistic to spiritual
light. How beautiful life becomes as we grow into the recognition of its
laws, and learn of Him, who is law itself, and whose daily revealings,
are the protecting arms around us.”
“Fully realizing this fractional mating of which we have spoken, I
am led to question if we ever find one soul who meets every want, or
whether we wander, gathering from this one, and that one, until the soul
has all its emotions sounded, all its sentiments aroused and responded
to. In my deepest, most earnest questioning for truth, this answer
seems to be the only one, which gives me rest. How is it with you, whose
vision is clearer than my own?”
“I feel that no one soul can meet all the wants of another. Yet seeing
this principle, sufficient light does not dawn on the method of its
application.”
“The light will come with the labor, as the fire flashes from the flint
by strokes of the steel.”
“True,” said Dawn, gathering inspiration from the words, “And I have
often felt that the world would be better to-day, if people agreed to
live together while life and harmony inflowed to each, and no longer.
I think the whole moral atmosphere would be toned and uplifted, the
physical and spiritual beauty of children increased, and purer, nobler
beings take the place of the angular productions of the day, if our
unions were founded on this principle. And yet no one mind can point
out the defects of our present system, and apply the remedy. The united
voices of all, and the efforts of every individual must be combined,
to accomplish a change so urgently demanded. All men and women should
fortify themselves, and see that no being comes through their life,
unless they have health and harmony to transmit. Maternity should never
be forced; woman's highest and most sacred mission should never be
prostituted, and yet this sin is every where. When every woman feels
this truth, she will purify man, for he rises through her ascension.
He needs her thought, her inspiration, her influence, to keep him
every hour; and when the world has risen to that point, where minds
can mingle; when society grants to man the right, to pass an hour in
communion with any one who inspires him, we shall have made an advance
towards a purer state. To-day mankind are suffering for mental and
spiritual association. Give to men and women their right to meet on
high, intellectual, and sympathetic grounds, and each will become
better. We should then have no clandestine interviews, and few, if
any of the passional evils which now burden every community, for the
restraints which the jealousies and selfishness of the married have
established, in a great measure create these.”
She paused: and the tall trees waved their branches as though in
benediction on her head. Beauty was every where. There, in that summer
night, who could utter aught but truth. The soft and gentle light of the
hour, silvering with heavenly charms every rock, and tree and singing
brook, excited no sophistries, but rather inspired the soul with
divinest truths. Their words died away, but the spirit, the influence of
their thoughts, will live through ages, and bring, perhaps, to those who
read them, states peaceful and calm. That the relation between men and
women needs some new revelation, we all know, but the light comes very
slowly to us. We must work with such as is vouchsafed to us. Revelation
comes to but few, and such can only work and wait, for the multitude. He
who has toiled up the mount of vision, cannot reveal to the pilgrim
in the vale, the things his eyes behold. The landscape view cannot be
handed down, nor the emotions of the beholder, imparted to another.
The day is coming for true and earnest communion between the sexes,
and the day is rapidly passing by when the glorious life which has been
given us is misdirected and misapplied.