we learn in unlearning. we lay aside, one by one, the garments in which we have enwrapped ourselves; garments of various hues, which are our opinions, and so clog and hinder our progress. happily for us that we find our states changing, and the wrappings of old dogmas too oppressive. fortunate are we if our freedom of spirit is large enough to enable us to lay aside what was a shield and protection to us yesterday, if it be not fitted for us to-day. he who is strong to do so, benefits all around him, for no good or evil is confined or limited to one. everything flows; circulation is in all things, natural and spiritual. life in one is life in another; what is faith in one is also faith in another.
"what is gained by one man is invested in all men, and is a permanent investment for all time.
"a great genius discovers a truth in science, the philosophy of matter; or in philosophy the science of man. he lays it at the feet of humanity, and carefully she weighs in her hand what is so costly to him, and so precious to her.
"she keeps it forever; he may be forgotten, but his truth is a part of the breath of humankind. by a process more magical than magic, it becomes the property of all men, and that forever.
"all excellence is perpetual. a man gets a new truth, a new idea of justice, a new sentiment of religion, and it is a seed of the flower of god, something from the innate substance of the infinite father; for truth, justice, love, and faith in the bosom of man are higher manifestations of god than the barren zone of yonder sun; fairer revelations of him than all the brave grandeur of yonder sky. no truth fades out of science, no justice out of politics, no love out of the community, nor out of the family.
"a great man rises, shines a few years, and presently his body goes to the grave, and his spirit to the home of the soul. but no particles of the great man are ever lost; they are not condensed into another great man, they are spread abroad.
"there is more washington in america now than when he who bore the name stood at the nation's head. ever since christ died, there has been a growth of the christ-like.
"righteousness grows like corn-that out of the soil, this out of the soul.
"thus every atom of goodness incarnated in a single person, is put into every person, and ere long spreads over the earth, to create new beauty and sunshine everywhere."
there was one spot which seemed more attractive to dawn after ralph's birth, than her home,--our homes are just where our hearts cling for the time, here or there,--and that spot was the home of miss bernard and her brother. this desire to be with them was settling into a fixed purpose to go, when one day her friend, mrs. austin, burst into her room, saying, "i've come for you. i think a change will do you good."
a short time only was needed to pack a few articles of clothing, and they were soon on their way.
it was early autumn, and the skies and trees were glowing with all the tinges and beauties of that season. scarlet maples flashed here and there from their back-ground of pines and firs along the road, while over the dead limbs clambered the ivy, more brilliant in death than in life. the air was full of life. the voice of her friend chatting by her side was soothing to her nerves and spirits, for her life had been full almost to bursting since he had come so near.
"you astonish me more and more, dawn," said her friend, who had dropped her lighter mood, as they rode leisurely by the forest trees, which ever seem to suggest deeper thoughts.
"and why, may i ask?"
"because your reconciliation to your loss seems so strange and unusual."
"i have no loss. my friend has come home closer to my heart and understanding. the form is of little value to us when death gives us so much more of an individual."
"would i could think as you do, dawn. you are strange, and yet you seem to get at the very core of life's experiences."
"we cannot all think alike. there must ever be an individuality of thought, as well as of feature, yet on the common ground of principles we can meet. my serenity of mind is born of vision, for most clearly do i perceive that had i been united on earth to ralph, our lives would have been limited. we should have gone into each other and remained, for he was the complement of my very self. in a world of so much need of labor, we could not be allowed to be of so little use to mankind."
"but i do not see why you might not have blessed humanity more by your united efforts."
"because we should have been located, spiritually insphered in each other's life. now i have no excuse for halting. i must be forever moving to some center, and he will find his life in and through me, loving me ever, but yet never quite settling into my life, which he was naturally inclined to do. in his atmosphere i shall gather another kind of strength and life; a life of two-fold power, because he will be so near in affection, so close and indwelling. i shall have the light of his spiritual life within me to guide me on; and can i not labor, yea, bear all things with such strength?"
"o, dawn, for such light one could call life and toil here, rest and heaven."
"as it ever will be if we seek the harmonies of our lives."
"now you rob death of its gloom to me. you must talk with basil of these things, he can understand and appreciate them. did you know that he was a relative of the seyton's, a cousin to ralph's mother?"
dawn started. it was all clear now. ralph would have her go to them, and that was the cause of her yearning to be there.
"shall we go to-morrow," she asked of her friend, who sat abstracted by her side.
"where?"
"to miss bernard's?"
"yes, to-morrow. they are anxious to see you, as is also your protege, young mr. bowen, who has inquired for you every time i have met him."
"i had almost forgotten him in my deep experiences. has he changed? does he seem more hopeful?"
"he seems far away. i think it your mission to send people off the earth, or, at least, into larger orbits."
"i should like to make their lives larger, for life is not worth anything unless we are daily putting off the old, and taking on the new. we cannot live our experiences over. fresh breezes and fresh truths correspond-the outer and inner ever correspond. a clean dwelling indicates purity of heart and purpose, while the reverse leads us to beware of the occupant."
they were now at the home of mrs. austin, who considerately conducted dawn to her room and left her alone until tea-time.
the evening brought mr. bowen, who appeared pale and dispirited, but he was speedily assisted to better states through dawn's efforts.
again poor margaret appeared to her sight, this time with a new look on her features, as though she had gathered strength and light from the partial recognition of one who had betrayed her, yet from whose life she could not be separated until the spiritual balance of forgiveness had been given and received.
clarence was soon engaged in earnest conversation. "do you not think, miss wyman," said he, "that we may be weakened physically by spirits who come into our atmosphere?"
"i have no doubt of it. if they remain, and are not illuminating, or changing their states; if they come to do us good, even, they may sometimes weaken us, because our magnetism which sustains them becomes attenuated."
"i have thought that i was at times weaker, from the presence of one whom i feel is near to me."
"it may be. she cannot rise until you are ready to do so. and when you both go to higher states, or you enter hers, a new life will inflow. there will come relief. there is monotony now in the influence, because she is waiting for new truths to be infused into your mind before others can flow in. perhaps i cannot make it as clear to your mind as i perceive it."
"the thought is suggestive, at least, and will help me out. i suppose these things are of slow growth in the human mind, like all things in nature?"
"they would not be of the soul were they not slow, and of little value to us did they not ripen in the warmth and nurture of our own sunshine."
"true. i would know more of these things. they give me strength to bear life's burdens much better, and although they seem to take my thoughts from my duties, i seem to be brought nearer to them; yet i cannot quite comprehend how it is."
"this influence does not take your mind away; it lifts it above your cares, and makes you more contentedly subjective to the law that governs. truth ever renders us content to bear, while it liberates us from thraldom."
"i know that my life beyond will be richer and nobler for what little i have of these truths here. you have greatly blest me-"
"and blest myself," she added, seeing the rich gratitude of his soul falter with the poverty of words.
he took her hand, pressed it warmly in token of his deep indebtedness, and they parted, to meet no more on earth, save in spirit. that night the death-angel came. he was seized with hemorrhage of the lungs, and died instantaneously.
the wife of the world, whom position and society had chained him to, put on robes of mourning, and in three months was a gay, flirting widow, while he was happy in the summer land, joined to his mate, the bride of his soul's first love.
for a long time dawn felt not the presence of either clarence or margaret. they were away, reposing in the atmosphere of forgiveness and love, and learning that "it is not all of life to live, nor all of death to die."
dawn sat beside basil as an old friend, holding a likeness of ralph in her hand.
"i little thought that you knew our dear ralph," said mr. bernard, breaking the silence they had enjoyed, "and yet i ought to have recognized his life within yours, miss wyman."
dawn knew well why he did not, for she had kept him away from herself.
"i usually feel the sphere of the one dearest to another, when i come into their presence; but this time i was completely in the dark. there is some reason for it, i know." she knew it, and also that he could read her mind.
"i will keep nothing back," she thought, and told him all. just as she had finished, mrs. austin and his sister came in from the garden.
"your conditions must have blended very closely," said beatrice, playfully, "it seems as though there was but one person in the room."
"you are becoming a dangerous person to have about," said her brother, while his tone and speech were greatly at variance, for his voice to her was always sweetly modulated and full of tenderness.
mr. bernard brought to dawn a folio of drawings, some of ralph's early sketches, which they looked over together until the hour of retiring, when the evening closed with a calm and natural prayer, such as was nightly heard in that pleasant home.
"i shall claim miss wyman to-morrow," said beatrice; "i have a great many subjects which i wish to talk upon with her; so, brother, you will see that our friend, mrs. austin, is entertained."
"we will engage to make you very sorry that you are not of our party," he answered, as they separated for the night.
"now you are mine for a few hours," said miss bernard, after breakfast, to her guest, as she led the way, followed by dawn, to a little room which she had fitted up, and in which she studied or mused, sewed or wrote, as the mood prompted. the walls were hung with pictures, her own work, some in oil, others in crayon; all landscapes of the most poetic conception and delicate finish.
"i have always longed for the power to express my thoughts in pictures. what a keen enjoyment it must be, miss bernard, to have such a resource within one's self."
"i think the power resides in every person, and only waits a quickening, like all other powers."
dawn thought of the hour in germany when ralph sat and sketched her portrait, and the intervening time was as though it had not been. it was but yesterday, and she sat again by his side watching the deep life of his eyes, eyes on which she would never look again. were they closed forever? "o, heart so desolate. o, lone and barren shore, where are the waves of joy? all receded; all; and she seemed to stand upon the beach alone, while a chill ran over her.
"you are chilly, miss wyman, let me close the window."
but dawn heard not, saw not; for before her vision appeared a face all radiant with life, toned by a look of intensest sympathy; while on the brow glittered a star so radiant that mortal might not gaze upon it. its rays seemed to enter her very soul, and pierce it with life and light, bathing it with a flood of joy. it was no longer dark, her face beamed with a strange light when miss bernard turned to call her attention to some pictures which were unfinished.
"you seemed far away, miss wyman," said she. "it's so like basil. he has such moments of abstraction, and almost takes me with him."
"i was away for a moment; but what a lovely picture you have here."
"it's one i am trying to copy, but i make little progress."
"truth is not necessarily literal, is it? if so, i should make a poor copyist."
"it is not; and there is where most persons fail. 'the divine can never be literal, and there is in all art a vanishing point, where the divine merges itself into the ideal.' and that vanishing point is seen in the human composition, as well as in natural objects, that point where we lose ourselves in the divine, and merge our own being into that greater, grander being. you are an artist, miss wyman, you group human souls and portray them in all their naturalness; not on canvas, for that could not be, but spiritually to our inner sight.
"i love art in whatever form it may come to glorify life, for true art is catholic, beneficent, touching with its mystic wand every soul within its reach, thrilling even the sluggish and the slumbering with a new sense of the divine bounty which makes this world so lovely and fair."
miss bernard looked grateful for the rich appreciation of her guest, which she had scarce dared hope to find; and from art they drifted to life and some of its present needs, glowing with friendly recognition as they advanced and found each possessed with similar views. thus do we meet pilgrims on the way, at some unexpected turn, when we thought ourselves alone upon the road.
"i know by these pictures, miss bernard," said dawn, "that your life is full of practicality."
"you surprise me, for every stranger thinks that i do nothing else."
"if nothing else, you would not do this, or anything of a fanciful nature."
"i see you have had some experience, for very few entertain that sentiment."
"i have seen enough to know that those whose time is at their own disposal rarely accomplish anything, either practical or beautiful. the one helps the other, and one who delves hardest in the practical, rises ofttimes highest in the ideal."
"it is true of my own self, and others. my experiences have been varied and deep in human life and i have learned that time is of no value unless it is estimated by the amount of labor that can be accomplished. when thus estimated, however it may be employed, the results are productive of good to the individual."
"how i wish, miss bernard, that the whole human family might have just enough labor and time for improvement which they need. life looks so hard and inharmonious at times, when we see thousands toiling from early morn till night, with no moments for thought or culture, that we cannot but ask where justice to god's children is meted out."
"life is strangely interspersed with clouds and sunshine. i know that somewhere all will find recompense for such seeming losses, and that what we now look upon as evil will be seen to be good and best for all. did i not know this, miss wyman, i should have little heart to go on. of one thing i am certain, and that is, we must each keep working, performing the labor of the day, and some time the great united good will come from all this individual work. it is but an atom that each one does, but it counts as the grain of sand on the sea-shore, and helps by its infinitesimal portion toward the aggregate."
"did you ever feel, miss bernard, that extended vision of life's conditions incapacitated us for real, vigorous service?"
"i have felt at times it might be so, but am convinced that it does not; it only deepens our effort and endeavor."
"i have often thought that i was unfitted for life, from the very fact that i saw so much to be done."
"when we see so much it makes us meditate, and that very condition gives birth to greater power."
"true, and yet i often wish i did not see so much. why do i not oftener feel a power somewhat commensurate with the demand and wish?"
"i suppose, because the power is born of the time and the need, and not a burden to encumber us on our way. it is not of material nature; cannot be packed and stored away for some occasion that may arise, but is proportioned and adapted to the kind and quality of the requirement."
"you have explained it just as i felt it somewhere in my soul. the thought in me needed the quickening of another mind. you do me good, miss bernard, every moment. o, how much we need interchange of thought."
"we do, indeed, in order to know ourselves, if nothing more. but i see that you are weary. stay with us and rest, will you? new atmospheres are good to throw off fatigue in."
"i should indeed be delighted to stay here. was ralph fond of being here?"
"very; and he is here now."
"then you believe in the presence of spirits, and their cognizance of us, and we of them?"
"yes, for many years, and have been led by their advice."
"i am at rest. i find many who believe in communion, but not communication. i accept both."
"and so do i. we will compare experiences, and have many happy hours. how much we shall all enjoy. you must know my brother, miss wyman, for he, too, loved ralph with all the ardor of his deep nature."
the next hour dawn sat alone in communion with self, wondering at the daily events of life, and her own deepening womanhood. life to her was growing richer each day. she felt that she was catching the divine breath, and coming into celestial harmony, which is the soul's true state. o, what bliss awaits us, when we have passed from the exterior to the interior life; a state not of worlds, but of soul, where we come into divine submission, and can say, "thy will, not mine, be done."
