At first Eline longed to tell the world of better things. She would gladly have told the world of the glorious masonry of those noble cities which she saw in her visions—cities where men and women moved like gods; where sorrow and want and selfishness seemed to be unknown. She longed to tell them of the harmonies which came to her of music which might stir a dead world to life, thrilling all nature into blossoms and fruits in abundance, as the music of a waterfall seems to send life into the flowers which grow beside. She would have told them of the colors with which nature loves to paint the sky, the mountains and valleys, sea and land, when all is ready for the master’s work. For nature paints wherever the canvas is prepared to receive the picture, and she asks no price for her work. Eline knew of times in the past—times that will come again—when man did not ever strive to be rich regardless of his poorer brothers, but each worked as he was able, all working for the whole world’s good. And she would have told them how in those times man did not earn his living by toil unending, by ceaseless pain and sorrow, but that nature helped him as he helped her, and the earth brought out her stores of rich fruits for the welfare of her upgrown sons, well knowing that they in turn with loving service would seek to make nobler and better that which nature gave to them in charge, birds and beasts, flowers and trees, plants and stones and all that lives—which is everything.

Eline saw how the desire to possess more than enough, for the selfish pleasure of saying, “It is mine!”—how the growth of selfishness in the world; the love of killing nature’s younger sons for food and pleasure increased; how the love of ease and forgetfulness of others and of duty to mother nature—how all these things had chilled the warmth of the one great life that is in all things, and crippled the mother’s efforts to help her wayward sons.

Others had told these things; others had striven to show the glorious light of life that shines behind the cold mist of sin and sorrow which has been cast like a veil over the earth; but all had been rejected. Some were ill-received; some were stoned; some were killed.

“How can I raise this humanity which like a great orphan has cut itself off from its mother and now lies ignorant of the happiness that awaits its coming?” thought Eline. “I have returned to tell them of the way, and they will not hear. Others have returned as far as they might and have been rejected. Others still have boldly plunged deeper yet in the hot sea of human life and have been lost in its poisonous fumes. Even so, I will again return, yet lower, if by chance there be a few who will not reject my message.”