CHAPTER XXVI. SCIENCE AND LOVE.

 

OUR banquet finished, Solon invited us into his Auditorium.

 

This grand hall would seat some thousands of spirits.

 

The spacious room was circular in form; an immense, exquisitely stained window was just back of the speaker's stand, and on the desk rested a large volume in vellum and gold; on the cover was the one word,

"SCIENCE."

 

"Within the covers of that book," said Solon, "all scientific facts known to mankind are garnered and preserved: from it my texts are taken, just as clergymen on the earth take theirs from the Bible: nothing is treasured within its covers but truth, positive facts, that cannot be doubted. I expound nothing but absolutely demonstrated scientific truths. Truth can never be ashamed of itself. My hearers do not leave this hall without having learned one great truth at least, richer in the possession of one more valuable jewel."

 

"And are you able to understand all there is in that immense volume?" I asked.

 

"Not without aid from those wiser than myself," he replied. "The angels from yonder sparkling city often visit me here, and expound all that is mysterious to me, and then I am ready to discourse to the spirits, following the same method. The spirits have earthly mediums, to whom they give that which they have learned, and these same mediums give what they receive to mankind: it is but a chain, my dear lady, an endless chain, for all things repeat themselves."

 

Looking at this grand, wise man, with all his scientific attainments, the quenchless desire within me flamed up brighter than ever. Perhaps, in his great wisdom he might be able to do for me that which Annie, Sigismund and myself had failed to accomplish, span the gulf between me and my former husband and children: but so many years had now passed, their memory of me had become very dim! more especially was this the case with my man of six and cherub of three, both now grown to young manhood: but the deathless hope would spring up fresh and green, with the least breath to fan the nearly extinguished embers.

 

"O Sir!" I pleaded, with clasped hands and earnest eyes. "You are so very, very wise; surely you can help me: your knowledge of the sciences will enable you to do that which I have been years striving to do, but without success."

 

"Lady," he replied, taking my hand, "I have looked upon thousands of other women, but not until this moment have I ever felt that I could scale the everlasting walls of heaven, and grasp the fruit from the tree of Eternity! Yes," he went on, "I have plodded deeply among the sciences, all the time feeling that I had not wings wherewith to soar. Ah!" he sighed, "with all my attainments I have not even been able to enter yonder beautiful city. To enter that city has been the greatest desire of my life. You tell me that your greatest desire is to span the gulf between the spiritual life and earth, while my greatest wish is to span the gulf between the angelic and spiritual worlds, for this lake or gulf before us lies between the two, and never, until I looked on your face, has it appeared possible for me to cross to yonder shining city."

 

His gaze was so ardent, so hopeful, filled with such passionate longing, that I trembled like a leaf in a strong wind. Annie and Sigismund had retired to a far part of the auditorium, and the soft murmur of their voices reached us indistinctly. Solon still held my hand in his firm clasp.

 

"One would think," I said, "that nothing could be easier than to row over to that city. Why; Annie told me, not long ago, that her real home was in that city; and, if she can go there, why may not you? I am sure your wisdom must be superior to hers."

 

"Therein you are mistaken," he replied

 

"that which science fails to find out love easily discovers, and when love and wisdom are united, as is the case with Sigismund and Annie, the road to that city is easy and plain. One might live on this island for hundreds of years, with that heavenly city in sight, and yet never be able to reach it."

 

"But, why? tell me, why?" I asked, in great surprise. "I believe I could row over there myself, without the least trouble. It is very strange though," I continued, "for Annie told me herself that, although her home was there, she could not take me."

 

No," he said, shaking his head, sadly; It neither you nor myself can enter that city, at least, not at present. With all my scientific knowledge I have not love, with all your love you have not wisdom, therefore the gates of the city are closed to us."

 

"You have not love?" I repeated, slowly.

 

One would think that every spirit, who heard your wise discourse and looked on you, would love you."

 

His eyes twinkled rather mirthfully, I thought, as he replied.

 

"Being a scientist, dear lady, perhaps I can analyze love; for although you are the personification of love, yet you have not wisdom enough to understand your own attributes. First, then; man's love for man is not love but emulation; there may be friendship, perhaps; love, never: all the male spirits who, come here to hear me, come that they may gather riches unto themselves; they gather up and garner jewels of wisdom as they fall from the lips of my inspiration, but scientific jewels are hard and brilliant, love does not enter into their composition: few ladies come to hear me, and not one as yet has ever looked on me with eyes of love: admiration, appreciation, homage, these are not love; but, until the priceless jewel is found, yonder city is locked and barred against me."

 

"You have told me what is not love," I said, "but you have not yet made it plain what love is."

 

"Will you not help me?" he returned. "How can I make plain that which I have never known?"

 

"You had a mother once?" I questioned. "Did she not love you?"

 

"I once had a mother, and have a mother now, but she journeyed into the cities of the angels long since," he replied. "She loved me with a mother's love, but mother love is not competent to make of me an angel fit to live in yonder pure city; an angelic mother cannot make her son an angel, be her love ever so great."

 

"Have you no sister, then, who loves you?" if Sisters I had, and still have two yet on earth, one in the spiritual world and one an angel; those on earth have families of their own, the one in spirit is still quite young and at school; we visit each other often, our love is that of brother and sister; she could not take me to that city if she would: the one who is an angel is to me what Annie and Sigismund are to YOU, and cannot take me, no more than they can you, to yonder city."

 

"Were you not married when on the earth?" I asked.

 

"Yes," he replied. "I had the good or ill fortune to marry twice."

 

"Twice?" I repeated, arching my brows,

 

"Is there anything surprising in that fact? There are many men who have two, three, and even four wives; we have heard of seven," he said, laughingly.

 

"Surely, then, you must have known great love. Could not the love of two women lead you into the angelic city?"

 

A Moslem of high cast often possesses a harem, within which fifty or sixty women play a part, but not one of them be able to lead him into the angelic city; on the contrary, they are so many sirens dragging his soul down to hell; but my earthly wives were both Christian women, and I had but one at a time, that is, the first one died before I married another; the one left on earth long since married again, is the mother of a number of bright-eyed children, and devoted to her husband; the wife who died within a year of our marriage has long been among the angels, long before I came into the spiritual world."

 

"Why did she not wait for you?" I cried; then her love would have led you into the city."

 

"The love which I had cherished for her did not hinder me from taking another wife, after she had departed," he said. "Why, then, should she wait for me? No; that, which went by the name of love on earth, was not the love which makes an angel, in fact, is hardly ever love at all."

 

"Did you not marry your first wife for love?" I asked.

 

"I thought I loved them both," he replied and when my second wife would ask me if I loved her as well as the other, my answer was invariably, 'Yes; better,' and I thought

 

I did, but nothing. Promiscuous can ever enter yonder city. When a man thinks he has loved two women, he has loved neither. When a man thinks he can love a good many women, he loves none; promiscuity is not love, and the feeling which I cherished for both those women has long since faded and died, but love withers not; it is fadeless, immortal, and never dies, but grows brighter and brighter with the march of the eternal ages. No; dear lady, the real truth is, that I have never yet possessed the priceless jewel, love: and, now, tell me of yourself, for you are not yet among the angels, therefore you cannot have found the wisdom which completes you—the other half of yourself. Do not you also desire to enter yonder city, and live with the glorious shining ones who sing the song of everlasting love and wisdom, whose united voices rend the vail before the temple, and the bright God of Truth bursts forth from his concealment, and, with uplifted sword, rushes downward to do battle with error? say: do you not also look with longing eyes toward that beautiful city?"

 

But my eyes were looking, into his, my hands were both within his.

 

I am already married," I said, falteringly, "or, at least, I was married when on the earth. I am also the mother of six children. My former husband has long, long ago been married to another woman, by whom he has, already, many children: my own children are nearly all, now, men and women, thinking of a nearer and dearer love than that of mother love; still, my love for those yet on earth is so great, I would make almost any sacrifice to be able to span the gulf between them and me, more especially my two young men, that they might recognize their mother."

 

"Then, you still believe in sacrificial atonement?

 

"O, no," I replied. "I have long since given up that absurd idea."

 

"Yet, you tell me that you would sacrifice yourself in order to reach your children; and, so long as you have this feeling, you will never reach them."

 

"Why; one would suppose that to be the very way to reach them."

 

"How could you benefit your children by robbing yourself?" he asked.

"Well, really; I—I don't know," I stammered.

 

"What great treasure have you to give them now, suppose you were to reach them?"

 

"Well, I should tell them that their mother still lived, still loved them, still watched over them; that the spiritual life was not just as they thought it was; then, I should try to tell them all which I have already learned."

 

"Yet, you would lose nothing by telling them any of those things; there would be no sacrifice, no robbery; you would merely be giving them from a storehouse of treasures already garnered, and you would be none the poorer. Now, sweet lady, I shall tell you, according to scientific principles, that the more you expand yourself, the more you gather to yourself, the greater will be your power to benefit your children; but, if, on the contrary, you continue to cherish the feeling of self­sacrifice, growing little and less, binding yourself down into the spiritual realm, allowing your inefficient love to blind you to true wisdom, you will not only rob yourself, but them of that which you might gather for their benefit, as well as your own: your feelings of self-sacrifice, and sacrificial atonement, are robbers always and wherever found; but, to bestow from an abundance, is the right principle, and the more one gathers, the more one has to bestow. If your eyes are for ever fixed downward in longing love, you can never look upward into the heights of heavenly wisdom. No, dear lady, your true path is upward and onward; then, when the time comes in which you shall have wisdom enough to span the gulf, you will have greater and more precious gifts to bestow. You have already learned about all there is to know within the spiritual realm; and, really, your wisdom at present is not very far in advance of many of the wise ones of earth. The people within the earthly sphere think that those who are dead, or arisen, must necessarily know all things: many imagine that their knowledge is nearly equal, if not quite, to that of the God in whom they believe. If you had no more to tell your children than that which you have just said you would tell them, if you could but make them comprehend it was their arisen mother it would not satisfy them; they would say at once:

 

"'Why; if this were truly our angel mother, she could tell us all things; her knowledge would be so extensive that we could never find its limits; she could even tell us our past, present, and future; she could also give to us all the united treasures of heaven and earth.' So you perceive, dear lady, that merely to tell them that this life was not as they supposed it was, that you loved and watched over them, and could be near them whenever you wished to be, would be very inadequate food to satisfy their yearning desire for knowledge of the, to them, future or heavenly life. Would it not be far better to enter yonder shining city, and be as wise as those heavenly angels are, than to keep your mind bound down to earth?"

 

His words inspired me. The large entrance doors to the auditorium were wide open, and I gazed earnestly across the water into that glorious city, whose brightness dazzled me like the sun. Yes; I would certainly enter that city if it were possible; but it was not yet quite plain to me how it was to be accomplished.

 

"You tell me, sir," I said, turning to Solon, "that if a man thinks he has loved two women, he has really loved neither, or, rather, not loved at all. I do not quite understand your meaning. I am very sure that Franz loved me."

 

"And you are quite as sure that lie loves his present wife, are you not?

 

"Certainly: I know that he loves her well."

 

"Then, when Franz comes to this life, and his present wife comes also and some of her children, together with your children already here, if, as you say, he loves you both, do you feel willing to share your husband equally with her? or do you think she would be willing to share him with you? This is a far more important question than at first appears."

 

Share my husband with another? The very thought was horrible. It really made me sick and dizzy.

 

"Never! No; never!" I cried. "I could never share a husband's love with another woman."

 

"Then, like myself, your former husband, in thinking he has loved two women, has really loved neither with the true, heavenly, everlasting, conjugal love; and, if he has never loved you conjugally, you, certainly, have not loved him conjugally, for conjugal means equally, the same, that is, your love and his must weigh and measure exactly alike in order to be truly conjugal. The scientific facts are these: his love for you and also for his present wife is, and was, material and fleeting; it really amounted to little more than friendship; while your greatest love was for your children; maternal love was paramount with you; true conjugal love you have never yet known."

 

I heaved a long, deep sigh. Yes; plainly, his words were true, and as I glanced at him, tears nearly blinded my sight. O, how wise, how God-like he seemed!

 

"I think one could hear you talk for ever, and not grow weary. The more you tell me, the more eager I am to hear."

 

"And I am eager to awaken your soul from its long sleep," he replied.

 

"Sleep—sleep?" I questioned, surprisedly. "Surely I am not asleep."

 

"No; the outward, or spiritual, is widely awake enough, but the inner, the soul, has not yet awakened from its slumbers; it has stirred, and stretched forth its arms, but its eyes are still closed in sleep."

 

"You are talking in parables," I said. "Do you mean that the lonely, yearning feeling, which I have had, is the soul stirring, and stretching forth its arms?