“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.