Mrs. Marston said: "It's perfectly awful to think about such a thing. Why, it would be dreadful. The preacher must have come from Paris with French ideas. According to what my son writes me, I should say that is just about what they do over there."

Mrs. Trask said that her husband said, speaking as a medical man, he would consider it the greatest step towards the downfall of the human race. Every one would become so corrupt and depraved sexually that the race would become weak and puny, with no moral stamina.

After Mrs. Trask had gone, Mrs. Marston got the Roseland Gazette to see what it said about the matter. When she came to the part where it stated that her niece had gone up to the desk and given her hand to the preacher and thanked him for helping her out of sexual bondage, she was completely overcome and just felt like having a fit. She would rather have paid a thousand dollars than to have that appear in the paper. "What a disgrace this is to me, after all I have done for her, ungrateful hussy! She doesn't think about the shame she brings upon me by her bold actions, with that vulgar crank." While she was smarting from the effects of wounded pride, her door-bell rang and soon the servant came in and told Mrs. Marston that Mr. Barker was in the parlor. Mrs. Marston kept him waiting a few minutes, till she had composed herself. Soon she came in, bright, smiling and cordially greeted the rising young attorney who had manifested so much interest in Stella's hosiery.

Mr. Barker was a perfect Chesterfield in dress and manners, and knew exactly what part of Mrs. Marston's nature to touch to make her feel good, and to raise himself one hundred per cent. in her estimation.

Mr. Barker felt as if he had a little grudge against Stella, ever since the day his wish was not gratified, and now he thought this was his opportunity to pay her back.

In course of conversation Mr. Barker said: "Mrs. Marston, have you been to Orangeville lately?"

"No," said Mrs. Marston, "I have not been there since Stella returned home."

"How is your niece, Mrs. Marston?" said Mr. Barker.

"The last I heard from her she was very well," said Mrs. Marston.

Mr. Barker said: "By the way, Mrs. Marston, is there another Miss Stella Wheelwright in Orangeville besides your niece?"

"I have not heard of any other young lady by that name," replied Mrs. Marston.

"Well," said Mr. Barker, "I was hoping there was, for I did not want to think it was your niece that the Gazette said went up and gave that vulgar preacher her hand."

"I think it must be," replied Mrs. Marston. Continuing, she said: "Of course, I am greatly shocked over the matter and feel that my niece has hurt me by her foolish conduct. I blame her mother more than I do her, for she has encouraged Stella in radical ideas."

Mr. Barker said: "I don't understand what the man can be thinking about to talk such vulgar nonsense. He ought to be sent to Stockton Insane Asylum."

Mrs. Marston said: "As for the subject he had under discussion, I could not think of talking about it to a gentleman. I intend to go to Orangeville to-morrow and see my sister about the matter. I do wish Stella would come and live with me; where she would be in the company of well-bred, well-behaved society people, who have common-sense ideas."

It was always customary for Mrs. Marston when she went to Orangeville to take a great variety of table dainties, and never mention the real purpose of her visit till after dinner. Mrs. Marston had been so well disciplined in the art of concealment through living so much in fashionable society, that she could put on a very pleasant exterior, when really she was very much disturbed within.

So to-day when she visited her sister Bertha, everything was exceedingly pleasant, and the topics under discussion were such that there was perfect harmony in all that was said. Mrs. Marston presented the bright side of everything in regard to Roseland when talking to Stella, telling her how certain young gentlemen were continually inquiring after her, and how her young lady friends were wishing she would return to Roseland soon, for they did want her to come and visit them so much.

Stella was interested to hear about her friends in Roseland, and enjoyed her Aunt Helen's talk.

After dinner was over and settled a little, Mrs. Marston took the opportunity to say to her sister Bertha (while Stella and her father were out for awhile): "Is it really true, Bertha, what the Roseland Gazette says in regard to Stella's going up to that crank preacher at the close of the service and giving him her hand and saying a lot of queer stuff about sexual bondage?"

"I was not there myself, Helen," said her sister, "but this I do know, that when Stella returned home she told me herself she did such a thing."

"Well," said Mrs. Marston, "I always knew Stella was a strange kind of girl, but I never thought she would disgrace herself and her relatives in that manner. Why," continued Mrs. Marston, "it's all the talk in Roseland and among Stella's friends, about the disgrace she has brought on me and herself in talking to such a vulgar man."

Stella's mother could not help smiling within herself at her sister calling Penloe a vulgar man, when she thought of what her daughter related to her in regard to her experience with some of the "upper ten" gentlemen.

Continuing, Mrs. Marston said: "It will never do for Stella to associate with such an indecent man, who preaches French ideas from the pulpit. Why, Bertha, it will never do. You had better let Stella come and stay with me till she is married. She is a great favorite with the young people in Roseland and there are some splendid catches for her there."

"Well," said Bertha, "I have no control over her; she can go to Roseland if she wishes."

"But," said Mrs. Marston, "it becomes your duty as her mother to show her the danger of speaking to a man like Penloe. You should keep her away from his influence and do what you can to encourage her to marry well."

Bertha looked her sister Helen in the face and said: "Helen, I have decided to let Stella choose her own path in life and select her own mate. If she asks my advice I will give it. She has her own life to lead, and it does not become me to mark it out for her. She must hew the way. And, supposing I wanted to, do you think it would do any good? Helen, you know better than that. Could you keep your son from getting that waiter girl in trouble? And now the poor girl is homeless and penniless, with a baby, in a hospital, without a friend to keep her, while your son is walking the streets of Paris as a well dressed gentleman." Here Mrs. Marston interrupted her and said: "Oh, my poor boy! It makes my blood boil when I think how that nasty, dirty hussy got my poor Henry into disgrace. Don't mention her, Bertha. It would have served her right to have died before the child was born."

Bertha said: "Helen, you can invite Stella to Roseland, and if she wishes to go it is just the same to me as if she stayed here, for I will not be in Stella's way of exercising her freedom."

So when Stella came into the house her aunt said: "Stella, I do wish you would come to Roseland and stay with me."

"Thank you, Aunt, you are very kind, but I have certain subjects I wish to study and I want to be where I can be quiet; but, Aunt, dear, I will return with you and stay a week, if you will bring me back home at the end of that time."

"All right, Stella, get yourself ready and we will leave right away."



CHAPTER XIII.

RETURN OF BEN WEST.

About two months before Ben West returned to Orangeville, Mr. Hammond took a letter out of the Orangeville post-office, which read as follows:

"Kohn & Kohn, Bankers and Brokers, Stillman Block. "SAN FRANCISCO, April 7, 1899.

"Harrison Hammond, Esq., "Orangeville, Calif.

"DEAR SIR: We have been instructed by Benj. West, Esq., one of the leading capitalists of the Klondike, to send you a draft for five hundred dollars, with a letter from that gentleman to you, both of which we have enclosed.

"Yours resp't'y, "KOHN & KOHN."

The letter from Ben West to Mr. Hammond was as follows:

"DAWSON CITY, KLONDIKE, Feb. 12, 1899. "H. Hammond, Esq., "Orangeville, Cal.

"FRIEND HAMMOND: After sending Julia the jewelry, I realized that I had got my foot in it, in this way: She thinks she must have a costly bridal outfit to match the jewelry. Now, I have written her that as we will be married in Orangeville, she need not get anything very extra fine; that what she thinks she may need in the way of costly dresses, she can get in San Francisco after we are married, but I realize she might like a few good clothes, so I send you five hundred dollars to buy her what she may need in that line, which I hope you will accept, as I know the income from a ranch cannot stand any such extravagance. You will receive the money from my brokers, Kohn & Kohn. Please keep this confidential and not let Julia know a word about it.

"Your friend, "BEN WEST."

After reading the letters Mr. Hammond had a good opportunity of talking the matter over with his wife, as Julia had gone out for the day.

They both took a sensible view of the matter and thought that under the circumstances it would be proper to accept the five hundred dollars, as Julia would wear the clothes as Ben West's wife, and said it was very thoughtful in him to send the money.

Mrs. Hammond said, as Julia was going to San Francisco as soon as she was married, she thought it would be best to go to Fresno and select her bridal trousseau there. Continuing, she said: "Julia knows you have money in the bank, but how much she has no idea; therefore, she will not suspect but you are paying for her bridal outfit yourself."

So Mrs. Hammond and Julia went to Fresno. On their return Julia seemed more than pleased with her purchases. It is not to be expected that each kind of garment that was bought will be mentioned here, neither will we go into a minute description of the amount of lace, embroidery, insertion and scallop work on the various garments.

In the four weeks previous to Julia's wedding day she had numerous callers to see her jewelry and her bridal trousseau.

The amount of close inspection, quick observation, speculative thought and general talk that was given to all articles pertaining to the bride's wardrobe and jewelry, if devoted to some of the serious social problems of the nation, would have settled them thoroughly for all time.

"Is it not strange," remarked Mr. Hammond one evening after some callers had gone and Julia had retired, "the amount of interest and thought people take in things that are really of so little consequence to them; but things which are of the greatest importance to their own welfare it is hard to get them to give two minutes' consideration to them? They want excitement, and love it a great deal more than an intelligent understanding of such issues as are to them of vital importance. For instance, government ownership of railroads, telegraphs and telephones to be operated at cost for the benefit of the people; the issuing and loaning of money by the government to the people, instead of by the banks to the people; also the adoption by the nation of the Initiative and Referendum."

Some of the elderly ladies in Orangeville who had lived in the east many years before coming to California, brought to Orangeville some of their old sayings, and one of these sayings began to float through the atmosphere of Orangeville and was whispered from one to another; namely, that Julia Hammond had fallen into a tub of butter. Now, on first hearing such a statement one would think a sad calamity had happened to the young lady, especially when taking into consideration that in a few weeks' time she expected to change her name. But upon making an examination of her wearing apparel, one saw no sign of such an accident, and when she appeared at the table in her elegant morning wrapper you could not see any grease spots on her well-fitting garment, and when you began to wonder what they could mean by saying that Julia Hammond had fallen into a tub of butter, you resolve you will make a further and closer scrutiny of that young lady's person. At last it begins to dawn upon your mind, for you notice that when she puts her elbow on the table and her hand up to the side of her face, your eyes are almost dazzled by seeing something on her finger which are brilliant stones set in gold. When Julia Hammond appeared at the ball the other night, the main talk of the evening was about her diamond ring, her gold watch set with diamonds, and her elegant diamond necklace, making that swan-like neck simply superb.

As she drove her span of matched bays one morning she passed two young men in a buggy. Then the following conversation took place between the men:

Fred said to Henry, who was a stranger in Orangeville and was making him a visit:

"Henry, just look at that in her back hair."

"That is just elegant," said Henry, as his eyes rested on a very rich gold hairpin set with diamonds which were sparkling in their beauty, as the rays of the sun brought out their brilliancy.

Fred said: "That's Julia Hammond, the bethrothed of Ben West, who went to the Klondike and struck it rich, having made a little over half a million dollars."

The last day Ben West was in Orangeville before leaving for the Klondike, he had a private talk with Mr. Hammond concerning Julia. Mr. Hammond gave his consent and wished him prosperity. So it was arranged that, owing to the long and uncertain carrying of the mails out of the Klondike country, he would write a letter to Julia as if he had made a stake, and in the letter make her an offer of marriage, and give it to Mr. Hammond to hand to Julia when Mr. Hammond received word from Ben by telegram, saying, "Stake made, give the letter to Julia," and Mr. Hammond was to wire Ben Julia's answer so he would not be kept long in a state of suspense. This was all carried out to the letter, and Ben West received a telegram which read: "Yes. Have written in full. Julia Hammond."

Continuing, Fred said: "When Ben West was in San Francisco on his way to the Klondike, he went into the store of Stein & Co., jewelers, and selected the jewelry he might want, should he make a stake. So when he received Julia's answer of acceptance he ordered by wire a diamond ring, a gold watch set in diamonds, a diamond necklace, and a gold hairpin set with diamonds. Stein & Co. sent them to Julia with Ben West's love. He wired Kohn & Kohn, the bankers, to pay Stein & Co.

"Ben's mother said: 'Those jewels for that girl cost Ben twenty thousand dollars.'"

Henry said: "Just think of that fellow's luck. Some men are born rich, some acquire riches and some have riches thrust upon them."

Fred said: "Some men are lucky sure. There's Ben West, who is coming to Orangeville in a week. All the people will just go wild over him and lionize him. And won't Julia be sweet to him after giving her all that jewelry. They say, 'If you want honey you must have money.' Ben has got the money and now he is going to have the honey; and just think, in three weeks' time he is going to be married, going to have that pretty, handsome, fresh young girl all to himself. Isn't she a beauty! My! Ben will be in clover; he will have a picnic sure."

Henry said: "If I could be in Ben West's shoes for just two months, I would be willing to spend the balance of my life in hell. I would have one comfort in thinking what a fine time I had had."

Fred said: "Ben West will be here to-morrow and he will take good care to see that not you nor any other man will be in his shoes for two months from the time he is married."

When Ben set his foot in Orangeville on his return from the Klondike, the news flew all over the locality, as if the wind had made it its mission to carry the intelligence all over the country into every home. Those who knew him least were just as anxious to see him as those who had always known him. They did want to see, to talk to and shake hands with the lion of the day, the hero of the hour, the man whose name was in every one's mouth. If a man had arrived in Orangeville who had saved twenty persons from drowning, there would not have been half the desire to see him or hear him talk on how the persons were saved. Why, Ben West received nothing but one continued round of hearty hand-shaking and warm greetings, and his ears heard nothing but eulogies and encomiums and general admiration for the man who had made himself the owner of the two great idols that are worshipped by the Western world.

Ben West had got what most men are seeking but few finding. If you were in Orangeville you would be told that it was a Christian community; but if you squared them by the command given by Jesus, "Seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven and its righteousness, and all these shall be added unto you," you would find them sadly wanting, for the Kingdom of Heaven is the last thing they want. It is, "These things which shall be added unto you" is what they want. For they want their heaven to be in the possession of things outside of themselves.

A great dance was given in honor of Orangeville's coming man. Predictions were heard that it would not be long before he would be Governor of California, with a good show for a seat in the United States Senate.

Most of the people of Orangeville were great on dances. If they had a sociable it had to close with a dance; if a political meeting was held, they had a dance afterwards; a spelling bee wound up with a dance. If you would let them, they would dance after Sabbath School and preaching. If you want a big crowd at a meeting, just give out there will be a dance at the close, and teams will come for miles from all over the country. Dance; why they want to dance all the time. They simply become intoxicated with dancing. There is no moderation about it. They leave the dance hall about four or five o'clock in the morning. Does that kind of recreation help them physically? How do they feel during the next day? Does it help them intellectually? Does it help them spiritually? Then why pursue a course of recreation so immoderately as to be detrimental to their highest interests?

When Mr. Hammond heard about the great dance that was coming off in honor of Ben West, he said it did seem to him as if a dance was the only thing the people of Orangeville could get up. He had never known them as a community to get up anything else but a dance, and yet, he said, there are some very fine people who attend these country dances. Persons of noble character, who live lives of self-denial in their homes and meet trials and misfortunes bravely and heroically, I am glad to say.

Julia did not attend the dance because it was too near her wedding day; but Ben West had a very enjoyable time, for the leading young ladies in Orangeville were delighted at having the opportunity of dancing once more with their old friend. But now a new interest had centered in him, in the fact of his being the rising man and soon to be married.

There was a very large crowd at the dance. A number came from Roseland; in fact, there were more than the hall could accommodate. There were a number of men wanting to see Ben West a few minutes on the side, to talk with him about what show there would be for them at the Klondike, as each of them wished to be successful like Ben West.

For three weeks previous to his being married, Ben did not know whether he was afoot or on horseback. What with the joy his father and mother manifested at having him back again in their home, and the real, sweet, loving and delightful hours he spent with Julia, who was free in her demonstrations of affection, he being so worthy of it.

At last that day which always seems so long in coming, but which always comes, came to Ben West and Julia Hammond. They had a quiet wedding in the morning; then came the wedding dinner, after which they went to Roseland, taking in the theater in the evening and stopping at the Arlington Hotel that night. The next day they took the Flyer for San Francisco. On arriving in that city they went to the Clifton Hotel. In the evening they attended the opera.

As Julia had never been to San Francisco, they decided to spend a week in sight-seeing. The second week they spent in looking at elegant houses. After looking round for six days they bought a mansion on Van Ness avenue for eighty thousand dollars. It originally cost one hundred and thirty thousand. Then, the third week they spent in selecting furniture, which cost them twenty thousand dollars. The fourth week they bought a fine matched team and a carriage, for which they paid fifteen hundred dollars, and kept them at a livery stable. They also purchased two bicycles and an automobile, and got three servants, a maid for Julia, a woman to do the housework, and a Chinese cook. All laundry work was done out of the house. The second month was spent in going to many interesting places outside of San Francisco as well as taking in more of the city. Everything so far had run very smoothly.

Then a conversation arose regarding what business Mr. West had better turn his attention to to occupy himself. After a little talk, Julia said: "You have now about four hundred thousand dollars. I do wish you could make it a million. How proud I should be of you, Ben, to have a millionaire for a husband. Just think what the people of Orangeville will say when they hear you have become a millionaire. Why, dear, I should just worship you to think that I had got a husband that was such a successful man as to make a million dollars in so short a time. When you become a millionaire, Ben, we will go to Europe in style, and what a gay time we will have in Paris, dear."

What a power some women's soft words and smiles have on a man; he is owned by them, and it was so in the case of Ben West.

Ben said: "Well, dear Julia, I suppose I will have to go to the Klondike again to make my pile a million."

Julia pouted and looked her prettiest and said: "I do hate to have you go to that cold and disagreeable country, Ben, and it will be so lonesome for me without you, dear; but, Ben, make your pile quick and come home."

Ben West did not express all he felt in having to go back to the Klondike, but he had such a pretty, handsome woman for a wife, who pleased him so much and he was so proud of her, and he loved her admiration and approval of himself as much as he did his life. So he decided to return to the Klondike in a month's time. That would give him, in all, three months of honeymoon. Then he would leave for the cold regions of the Klondike.

The last week Ben West was with his wife she seemed at times so sad about his leaving, and would pet him and make so much of him, that she became doubly dear to him. He said, "This is bliss, indeed."

At last the sad day for his parting came. They did the best they could by cheering each other up, with the expectation of Ben's quick return and coming back as a millionaire.

Now, when a handsome young bride is left with an eighty-thousand-dollar house and twenty thousand dollars worth of furniture, three servants, a carriage and a handsome span of horses, two bicycles and an automobile, with a good fat bank account to draw on, she is not going to spend many sad days in the house alone, longing for the return of her husband. Nor will she be contented to remain at home and become fascinated in reading Milton's "Paradise Lost" or Moody's sermons. No. She is going to have company, and gay companions, and they will not be all of her own sex either. About a month after Ben West had returned to the Klondike, Julia had made new acquaintances of persons who had time, money, and elegant leisure. Returning home from a swell party one evening, Julia said to herself, "What freedom there is in being married. Your market is made, and you can have lots of fun dancing, flirting, and so on; while a girl that is unmarried has to be more careful of herself and her conduct, because it might hinder her making a desirable match. It is fine to be married to a good-natured man."



CHAPTER XIV.

FIVE YEARS AFTER MARRIAGE.

It was one of those lovely days in March when nature is decorated in her best; for each day she adds to her wreath of glory new beauties in the form of buds and flowers. The trees in the orchard were a sight to behold in their beautiful and variegated colors. The soft, balmy air coming up the canyon was full of the perfume of flowers. The birds were warbling their sweetest notes in the mulberry and walnut trees, and the hum of the bees were heard around the flowers. All Nature sang through these various forms, that All is life, All is love, All is joy, and All is God.

On this day two ladies were sitting out on the porch of the Herne residence, one was a lady with gray hair, the other was her daughter. Both were sitting in silence. The younger was thinking how very much like this beautiful day was, to the one five years ago when she entered her new home as the wife of Charles Herne. Many thoughts were crowding upon her mind; she was thinking how perfectly, supremely happy she was on that occasion. Every thing about her seemed to respond to the happy thought within, and her cup of joy was overflowing. Then the thought came to her why was it not so to-day? Nature seemed just as beautiful, her home was more beautiful, and the returns from the sale of their fruit each year had exceeded their expectations. Her health was good, she was in harmony with her neighbors, and enjoyed her life among the people in Orangeville. And above all she had experienced the joys of motherhood, having a son two years old, and her husband was just as kind and attentive to her as ever, and yet—and yet—and yet, must she confess, yes, she very reluctantly told her thoughts to her mother to see if she could explain and give her light on those feelings which had come to the surface many a time, only to be suppressed. But they would rise again, and the more they were put down, the more they would rise, till at last she would relieve her mind by telling her mother, who she knew had had more experience.

"Mother," said Clara, "why is it, when everything about me is as good and some things much better than when I was married, and Charles is just as kind, thoughtful, and loving as a husband and father can be, and yet after five years of happy, harmonious life, there is less attraction between us, than when we were first married? Of course, I have never let Charles think that I felt this way, but I noticed that after we had been married two months, Charles' kisses, touches, and pettings did not produce that pleasurable thrill they once did, and it has been growing more and more that way ever since. Why, even when he kisses my hand, it does not produce any more pleasure than if I had kissed my own hand. I remember the time when Charles' kisses used to send an electric thrill of joy through me; the sound of his coming footsteps was a delight which gave me more pleasure than a kiss does now."

"Well, Clara," said her mother, "you don't expect to have the high-strung, pleasurable excitement of a bride all the time, do you? I know my experience was like yours, Clara, and I think from all those I have heard talk about such matters that theirs is also the same. So I take it for granted that is how it should be, and cannot be made different. I would not let my mind dwell on it if I were you, Clara; for you have got one of the best men for a husband, a fine boy, and a very comfortable home."

After hearing what her mother had to say, Clara thought it best not to say any more, for her mother had given her no satisfactory answer, and seemed to know no more about such matters than she herself did. But she kept thinking, "Did it have to be so?"

During the time that Clara was busy with these thoughts and talks with her mother, there was a man walking through his orchard, apparently looking at the fruit buds, but his mind was pre-occupied with another subject. He was thinking that it was five years ago since he and Clara were married, and he was thinking how happy he was when he brought her to his home. He was thinking also of the thrills of joy and pleasure her presence gave him before marriage, and for a month or two afterwards, when she took his hand in hers and then kissed it; how soothing and delightful it was; and what an attractive power she had. But now, how different.

"It is just the same as if I kissed myself. She is just as good, just as loving a wife, so kind and thoughtful, and we never have had any words, but there is something. I cannot find words to express what I mean. Is it tameness? Are other married persons like that?" And he began to think about the married life of some of his friends. "There was Winchester and his wife, I remember them when they were courting, they seemed inseparable, and for a while after they were married they could not see any one else but each other. If they were out anywhere they would sit together holding each other's hands, and not wishing to say much to any one else. After they had been married six months I notice they have quit holding each other's hands, and now you seldom see them together much. With how few married couples who have been married six years do you see that suppleness and alertness, that zeal to please each other, and be with one another that you see in couples about to be married."

Charles Herne thought, "Why is this so?" Why could not the same attractive power which exists between some couples when they are married be continued? Charles Herne did not know, his wife Clara Herne was no wiser than he on that subject, though neither of them had made their feelings known to the other.



CHAPTER XV.

A CONVERSATION ON THE PORCH.

Penloe had heard several times in regard to Charles Herne being an exceptionally fine man, liberal in thoughts, as far as he went, very just and generous to his men, so that the day that Penloe received a very kind invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Herne to be their guest for a few days, he accepted it knowing intuitively that he had a work to do there. As a guest Penloe was not always talkative, but what he did say was very interesting. He made himself one with men and they all took a great liking to him; Mr. and Mrs. Herne were very much impressed with the personality of their distinguished guest, and they enjoyed his visit with them. He had been several times there since his first visit, and they had become great friends.

Charles Herne remarked to his wife one day: "What a genial, sociable, humorous companion Penloe is; while of course, he is thoroughly in earnest and has but one purpose in all he does, which is to manifest what he calls the Divine, yet he is not serious, sober, and grave all the time; he is so joyous, hopeful, and full of good-natured fun, but he never lets it overcome him. I like him because he never says and does anything for effect or to be considered smart; he is so simple, humble, and unassuming in his manners, keeping himself in the background. His influence on me is so different to that of any other man, and impresses me very deeply. I always feel a better man after a talk with him. In short, I feel his fine influence in the room even when he is silent. He gave the men a powerful talk in their parlors the other evening. He has a faculty for adapting himself to each one; just knows what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. Several of the men have made the remark to me that he is a very dear brother to them."

He had visited the men several times since, and they had become great friends. Any one in a very short acquaintance with Penloe could not help being impressed with his sincerity of character, his genuineness and honesty of purpose, as well as his deep spirituality. Therefore, it naturally follows that he would attract the confidence of his friends. It was so natural for them to give him their confidence, they could not withhold it from him, for it seemed to belong to him. Then again, there are some persons who possess that power of discernment, that spiritual insight for seeing through and through any one; nay, more, they appear to have the power of entering into your most secret thoughts, they enter as if by right, the rooms of your soul and see all its furniture; they open even the secret chambers, and enter as if they had been there before many a time, and when you think you are about to take them into your confidence, you find that they know what you are about to tell them.

Penloe possessed that gift, and Mrs. Herne realized that he had read her book of secrets, that he knew all, and, therefore, when she took him into her confidence, she did so with the half thought that he was there some time before. She knew that Penloe was competent to give information on any subject, and he was her true friend, and, therefore, she could trust him fully.

One day when Penloe and Mrs. Herne were sitting on the porch admiring the beauties of Nature all around them, Mrs. Herne said: "Penloe, don't you think this is a beautiful place?"

When she made that remark, he knew what she was going to speak to him about.

Penloe replied: "There is not a ranch in Orangeville that has so much in the way of the expression of fine taste and natural beauty as your home."

Mrs. Herne said: "I shall never forget how delighted I was when I came here as a bride, and thought could I wish for more, for my cup seemed full to overflowing. With this comfortable house and beautiful grounds, and such a feeling of brotherhood existing between my husband and the men, and everything running so harmoniously, nothing appeared to be wanting."

"Yes," said Penloe. "You certainly have an exceptionally fine man in some respects for a husband; I admire him very much."

"And I know he does you," replied Mrs. Herne; continuing, she said: "Since you have favored us with your company and he has been with you more, I can just begin to see some kind of change come over him; I hardly know how to describe it; for it is only just commencing; I notice it a little at times."

Penloe seemed to be absorbed in thought and made no reply.

Mrs. Herne waited a minute or two, and then said: "I often think how thankful I ought to be that I have such a fine man for a husband, and yet, in one way, I have not realized my ideal, even with all these fine surroundings, and such a good husband."

"Do you think that is strange?" asked Penloe.

"Well," said Mrs. Herne, "that is what I don't know; it is a query with me, whether any one realizes her ideal in marriage; what do you think about the matter, Penloe?"

"Well, I think there are quite a number who realize their ideal in marriage," replied Penloe.

Mrs. Herne said: "Please, Penloe, describe those kind of marriages to me, for I am interested; it being a matter I have thought a great deal about."

"Certainly," said Penloe, "but which is it you wish me to describe: What is an ideal marriage? or what are the ideals of those who get married, and who realize them?"

"It is the first I am most interested in now, Penloe," said Mrs. Herne, "because I know that is your ideal, and therefore, would be the correct one to aim for, but Penloe, while I hope you will tell me that, yet, I ask you as a trusted friend, can you tell me why I have not realized my ideal?" said Mrs. Herne.

"I can when you tell me what your ideal is like," said Penloe.

"I am afraid you will laugh when I tell you for I know it is so different from yours," replied Mrs. Herne.

"One need never fear a true friend," said Penloe. "To a true friend, if it is necessary, one can speak of his ignorance or weaknesses, and it may be a great help to him, because a true friend has only one motive in friendship, and that is to lift the other up to a higher plane of thought; I mean that is the highest kind of friendship, and is a good test with which to gauge friendship."

Mrs. Herne was very much impressed with Penloe's idea of friendship; so high and pure.

Mrs. Herne said: "Penloe, you are so near and dear to me as a friend, that I don't fear to tell you anything, and to show my confidence in your friendship, I am going to reveal to you something, that I have never thought it best to tell my husband."

"Your confidence shall never be betrayed by me," said Penloe.

"Thank you, Penloe," said Mrs. Herne. "Now, let me tell you what it is. Previous to my marriage to Charles Herne there was something in addition to his true worth and genuine character that attracted me to him; something about his personality, for I always felt a thrill of joy when with him; even if I only heard the sound of his coming footsteps, or he happened to touch my dress, there was a sensation of pleasure; and when he took my hand, and pressed it and kissed me, it was bliss. Well, I married him and we came to this beautiful home, and that thrill of delight continued between me and Charles for about two months, and during that time I was living in my ideal world. But after two months I noticed a little less of that feeling, and it kept growing less and less, till now there is none at all. I love him with my whole heart, and am devoted to him, my environments are the same, or better in many ways, seeing that I am a happy mother, and the place has now more comforts and conveniences than when I came here as a bride; yet that attraction has gone so that when Charles kisses me or touches me it seems as if it was my own self kissed me and touched me—to make the union a perfect one, the delight of attraction should always be present; in that way I have not realized my ideal."

Penloe said: "Do you know, Mrs. Herne, there are more than a million couples whose experience is exactly like your own; and if your environments had not been so pleasant, and both of your dispositions well blended, and well balanced, you would have separated long ago, as many have done, not knowing the real cause, and thinking it was something else. You see," continued Penloe, "before you were married, you and your husband had both led pure, virtuous lives; and each of you was like a strong electric battery, charged with the life forces of the body, which produced this pleasant feeling of attraction, and when you were married both of you thought and acted like most other married people."

Mrs. Herne said: "Thank you, Penloe; the ideas you have advanced should become common property of the many."

Penloe replied: "Yes; but there are some who have these ideas, but don't wish to put them in practice."

Mrs. Herne said: "Penloe, suppose that two married persons having been living as most married persons do, and one of the two wished to live the better way which you have just described, while the other wished to live as they have been doing, what would be best to do in a case like that?"

Penloe replied: "That is a matter that requires the best judgment possible, so as not to give offence. Great diplomacy must be used where hard feelings are liable to be produced; but there is one thing that must always be kept in view and that is that the one who wishes to live the better way must be true to himself or herself. The matter should be presented in a very kindly way, showing that it is as much for the interest of the one not wishing to live the new way as it is for the one desiring it. Patience must be used, and, above all, kindness and love.

"I am going to ask you now, Penloe," said Mrs. Herne, "to tell me from your standpoint, what kind of unions would you consider the best ones?"

To Mrs. Herne's astonishment, Penloe replied: "All marriages are the best ones; even where they are so unhappy as to separate the next day. The two can only work out their unfoldment from the plane they are now on, and not from any other plane or place."

"Yes," said Mrs. Herne, "but supposing I am living the old way, and after hearing you explain the new way, I wish to live that way."

Penloe said: "That would show that you were tired of living on your old plane, and you were now ready to leave a lower plane for the higher one. But, supposing I had seen you a week before you were married to Charles Herne, and explained to you the new way, do you think you would have been ready to commence your married life by living the new way?"

Mrs. Herne laughed, and said: "I see it all now; I had to go through this experience in marriage in order to be ready for the better way. But are there not some who are ready to live the better way without having any experience?"

"Yes," said Penloe, "because they were already on a higher plane. Supposing I take a watch and explain its works to you and your husband; after I get through, you understand all about its movements because you were on the mechanical plane to receive the instruction, but your husband does not, because he has not reached the mechanical plane to receive it. So it is in regard to receiving ideas on any social, moral, or spiritual plane."

"I understand it now," said Mrs. Herne, "for you have the faculty of making any subject very clear; but I am going to push my question and get you to describe the grades of the higher planes in marriage."

Penloe replied: "There are very, very few persons who are living the pure life in marriage who have not reached that plane through experience. Now, it is possible that of two who are about to be married, one previous to that union may have reached the plane of purity through experience; while the other, not having had any such experience, and intending in the main to live purely under marriage, but for several reasons desires to have some experience before living the pure life.

"Again, where the purpose of the union is to live the pure life, then the union belongs to the higher plane. But the highest plane of all is where the two, at the time of marriage, consecrate themselves to each other and to the service of the Lord in His humanity, keeping their bodies, as the temples of God, pure and sacred; where both live above all lustful desires for each other, keeping the life forces for making the mind and body strong, and fitting themselves to be instruments of the Divine. Such a union brings the highest bliss to each of them, and the greater good to the world at large. They do not require children to make them happy, for their life is in the Divine One. They fully realize that in Him they live, move, breathe, and have their being, and they forego for themselves the pleasures of parentage in order to become a spiritual father and a spiritual mother to the many."

Mrs. Herne gave Penloe her hand, and said: "I sincerely thank you for the light you have this day given me."

That evening Clara Herne told her husband Penloe's ideas on the marriage relationship. After listening very closely to all she said, Mr. Herne sat thinking for a while, then said: "Clara, for a long time I have been reflecting on that subject, and it perplexed me much, but now that Penloe has made it so very clear, it seems like so many other things which are hard to find out and understand, but when explained by a master mind like Penloe, appear simple.

"Clara, can you estimate what a great gift Penloe gave you in imparting those very important truths? and the knowledge he gave you, he knew you would tell me; therefore, I feel he has given us both a precious gift, more than if we had received a present of five thousand dollars. We cannot prize such a dear friend too highly."

They had an hour's very agreeable talk on the matter, and they were both of one mind, and decided that there and then they would live the new way; and they both sealed their sacred vow with a pure love kiss.



CHAPTER XVI.

TIESTAN.

A few days after Stella had returned home from her visit to her aunt in Roseland, she and her mother went to call on Penloe; for Mrs. Wheelwright was as anxious to see such an original man, as Stella was to set her eyes on a face that had such a beautiful expression.

As we have said, Penloe was living all alone, his mother's work being for the present in Chicago.

When Penloe came to the door he received Stella in such an agreeable way as to make her feel perfectly at ease.

Taking his hand, she said: "Penloe, this is my mother, Mrs. Wheelwright; my name is Stella."

With the same grace and ease did he welcome Mrs. Wheelwright, and the two ladies had not sat in his library more than five minutes before they felt as if they had known Penloe all their lives, and they seemed to have a consciousness as if Penloe had known them always. And as wave after wave of thought came to their minds, Penloe met it and gave them just what information and truth each one needed in chaste and polished language; and yet there was no effort at studied phrases on his part, for it was his natural mode of expression. When talking on certain subjects and to an interested listener, his discourse seemed like a string of sapphires, diamonds, pearls, and rubies.

Stella and her mother had sat there looking into those deep, luminous, spiritual orbs, while the conversationalist was interesting them, so that two hours had flown before they thought an hour had passed.

As they were about to leave Penloe saw Stella's longing, wistful eyes glancing over the rows of books. He anticipated the wish by saying: "Stella, any book or books you see here you are at liberty to take home."

If Penloe had made her a present of a thousand dollars in actual gold coin, she could not have felt as grateful as she did when he gave her the use of his whole library. It was like pouring water on thirsty land. Stella was thirsting for information on so many subjects, and now her wish was gratified. She had the opportunity of getting the reading matter she longed for so much, but did not have the means to purchase. And, above all, when Penloe told her he would be pleased to help her in any line of thought she might wish to investigate, it seemed to her as if her happiness was complete. Her eyes and her hand expressed it all on taking leave of Penloe.

The ladies said little in going home. It seemed mutually understood that they would not give expression to their thoughts till they were home and sitting together in the evening.

When Stella entered the house she had in her possession three of Penloe's books. One was "Macomber's Oriental Customs," another "Woman's Freedom in Tiestan" by Burnette, and the third was "Woman's Bondages" by Stuart.

After supper was over and the dishes washed and put away, Stella and her mother sat down and Stella said somewhat abruptly: "Mother, sometimes I wish I had never seen Penloe." Her mother was not very much surprised to hear her express herself in that way, for she had observed that Stella's mind was somewhat agitated.

Her mother said: "Why, dear, what do you mean?"

Stella said: "Mother, I mean this: that I can never be contented and happy in the society of any young man other than Penloe. How can I?"

It was a very hard question for her mother to answer, who knew full well that Penloe had unintentionally made an impression on her daughter's heart that time could never efface, and she had refrained from saying much in praise of Penloe, for she knew that it would only be adding fuel to a very great flame, which it would be impossible for Stella to quench. She knew that Stella had seen in Penloe a young man greatly beyond her expectations; even beyond her ideal. Penloe lived in a world that Stella had only just a faint conception of. It was his intellect, his exceptionally fine personality, manifested in such a fine, manly form she admired. But, above all, Stella could see that he had emptied himself of all save love. And that was so broad, so deep, so far reaching, so universal in its sympathies, that it stirred her whole nature.

Mrs. Wheelwright said: "I think my daughter has lost something."

"Yes," said Stella, "I lost it when Penloe delivered his sermon on that Sunday at church, for I saw in him more than I ever dreamed of seeing in any man, and when I went up and thanked him for his address, and those discerning spiritual eyes of his looked so deeply and searchingly into mine, that he read my secret."

Mrs. Wheelwright went to Stella and pressed her to herself, and kissed her many times. After awhile Stella said:

"Mother, what I want to find in a man is true companionship. Now, look at the young men in Orangeville. There are a very few that are kind, steady young men, but then not one of them would be any companion to me. I don't want to listen to horse talk, or cattle talk, or hog talk, or some old back East yarns all the time. They all live in the social and domestic world; there is nothing intellectual about them; they are not moved by any broad, grand, sweeping, noble impulses. Their ranch, their home, and the excitement of their barterings and dickerings, and the doings of a few of their neighbors constitute the world they live in. And most of them think all that a woman is good for, is to cook, wash, and raise babies. And mother, I told you what kind of young men I met in Roseland; now, they are a sample of the top notch of society. All that many of them want is just the use of a young lady as a toy. And when they use up the flower, like the bee, they go to another. As for real manly worth, interesting, intelligent companionship, it is badly wanting in many of them. Some very few are much better than the rest.

"You know, dear mother, it is not that I want to know a man as a man, but it is natural that I should want and love an interesting male companion. When I think what Penloe is, and then think how little and insignificant I am, a mere child beside him, and only about four years difference in our ages, it makes me feel discouraged."

"Penloe's talk this afternoon," said her mother, "shows that he does not look at it in that way. Don't you remember his saying, 'I have traveled much, been among people of royalty, title and nobility, have lived among the rich, and great society leaders, also among great politicians, learned men, spiritual giants, business people, also among the poor, also the illiterate, the abandoned, the offscouring, and the outcasts of society; and I have yet to see the person that is not as good as I.' So you see he thinks that you are just as good as he. Now, dear, don't be discouraged in the least. I know just how my daughter feels; she wants Penloe as her life companion and wishes she could be to Penloe what he is to her. Stella, dear, calm your mind and remember that if Penloe is for you, you need not have the least anxiety about the matter; for there is no power in the universe that can hinder your being made one. But if he is not for you, then it does not matter how good or great, how grand or noble he may be, how intellectually brilliant he may shine, he should be the last man in the world you should think of as a life companion. For if there is anything that is true it is those lines of Emerson:

"'Whate'er in Nature is thine own, Floating in air or pent in stone, Will rive the hills and swim the sea, And like thy shadow follow thee.'

"Also remember the saying, 'My own will come to me.'"

Nothing more was said. Stella commenced reading "Woman's Freedom in Tiestan," by Burnette. It occupied most of her spare time the next day, and she finished it before supper, so that evening after supper Stella said: "O, mother, I have finished reading 'Woman's Freedom in Tiestan.' It is most interesting. Tiestan is a place little known to the Western world, very few travelers having ever visited the country. I want to read a little of it to you."

Her mother replied: "I shall be delighted to have you," for she always interested herself in anything her daughter was pleased with, so that she might be her companion and confidant when needed.

Stella opened at page 79, and read, as follows:

"When the traveler arrives in the city of Semhee, which is the most important in the country of Tiestan, his guide asks him whether he would like to go to the Menegam, which means Foreigners' Home, or to the Eshandam, which means Natives' Home. I told my guide I would go to the Menegam, which would be conducted after the manners and customs of the other parts of the Orient, which I had visited. Then, when I had become accustomed to the ways and manners of the people of Tiestan, I would go to the Eshandam. Now, while it is very true that very few travelers from the Western world have ever visited Tiestan, yet the travel from the other parts of the Orient is great and the people of Tiestan are familiar with the ideas of the Western world, through the Oriental travelers. They also have many of the modern improvements from thence, which they have purchased from Bombay and Calcutta. After making the necessary arrangements for a week's stay at the Menegam, I took a walk through some of the most important streets of the city of Semhee. The first impression which a traveler received in making a tour through the city is from the fine physique of the girls and women. One is struck with their independence, graceful carriage, and, as they only wear two or three garments, it is self evident that they are not dependent on corsets or waist stiffening for their erect bearing. I noticed there were very few doctors, and what few there were of the medical profession were equally divided between the sexes, there being three women and three men doctors. The city educates them and pays them to keep the people well. More than two-thirds of the people they heal without medicine. The profession of dentistry is represented by four women and four men. They receive their education at the public expense, and their business is to keep the teeth of the people sound, and put in new ones where required. Even the judges, lawyers, and city officials are equally divided between the sexes. I noticed the same rule prevailed in merchandise, hairdressing, and all kinds of business. There was not a single employment that was distinctively male or female, for no distinction was made between them. The same custom prevailed in all kinds of ball games and sports.

"Another impression one quickly notices is that the extremes of riches and poverty are not seen among the people, for there are no very rich or very poor; everyone having all the necessary comforts of life and many of its luxuries.

"After staying a week at the Menegam, I felt I was prepared to adopt the customs of the people of Tiestan; so I engaged a room and board at the Eshandam, or Natives' Home. Most of those who stop at the Eshandam are natives who live in the province of Tiestan, they having come to Semhee either on business or pleasure. Only two meals a day are served: Breakfast from 7.30 to 9 a.m., and dinner from the hours of 1 to 3 p.m.

"I arrived in time for dinner. Persons staying at the Eshandam are all looked upon while there as members of one family, and it becomes the duty of the manager to see that all persons sitting at the same table have been introduced. It would be considered a breach of etiquette to eat the meal quickly and in silence. I never was in a hotel dining room where there seemed to be so much freedom and enjoyment among the guests while taking their meals. Everyone has plenty of time to eat his meal leisurely. Most of the guests coming from the different parts of the province of Tiestan, and being well informed, and all able to converse in two languages, and all having their minds free from uncertain business enterprises, made their conversation very interesting and elevating, and their company a pleasure to enjoy. Meat is never seen on the table. They would feel indignant and be as much disgusted if meat were set before them, as we would be to have a cooked baby brought to the table. Eggs are used in some of their cooking; they are also served in various ways. Their bread and pastry cannot be excelled anywhere. The dessert consists of a large variety of nuts, confectionery, and fruits. From two to five o'clock guests are entertained with music in the beautiful hotel gardens, where fountains are playing, sending water out in the form of leaves, umbrellas, hats, rings, and other interesting forms. After the music is over some indulge in games, others read or write, others chat. In the evening for those who wish to attend are classes for literature, science, and spiritual philosophy. It is the business of the hotel to supply all the wants of its patrons; to see that the intellectual and spiritual natures are fed as well as to see to the wants of the body. The reason that the people in the city of Semhee have so much time, is that all labor and business is performed in six hours. Six hours make a day's work. No one is idle, every well person is busy at some productive employment. At the hotel they have no such room as 'Ladies' Parlor,' the parlor being equally for the use of both sexes, for the ladies are willing that the men hear any subject they are talking to each other about. No one smokes in that country. The bedrooms have two doors. One door leads from the hallway into the bedroom, the other leads from the bedroom into the bath department, which was twelve feet wide and was as long as the row of bedrooms. Opposite each room was a bath-tub and a large movable basin, so that a guest could take a sponge bath or immerse himself.

"The first thing every well person does on rising in the morning is to go into the bath department and take a cold bath. On my right was a newly married couple whom I had the pleasure of conversing with at the dinner yesterday, and on my left was a young lady and her mother with whom I had the pleasure of enjoying a conversation in the hotel gardens the day before. I exchanged greetings with all of them in the bath department, and the feeling was exactly the same as if we all had been dressed and met at the breakfast. As my room was about the center of the row I could look each way, and perhaps there were over twenty persons of both sexes and all ages taking their bath. On the door leading from the bedroom to the bath department was a writing in hieroglyphics illuminated and framed, which when deciphered read: 'Sex is an illusion, illusion is a bondage, break the bondage and be free. The truth shall make you free.'

"After we had taken our baths those who wished were shown into the room for devotion. When I had entered the room and had sat for a few minutes I began to realize what a sacred, peaceful influence was in the place. It seemed to come up from the floor, down from the ceiling, and out from the walls, and from everything in the room. No talking is allowed in the room. It is used only for devotion. I performed my devotions and gave the room my hearty benedictions. I noticed that the forms of devotion were not all the same, some using one kind of form and some another, but they all led to the same goal. The devotions were all carried on in silence. They consisted first of all of breathing exercises; then bringing the mind to a state of calmness, by repeating mentally, looking to the East, 'May all beings be happy. May all beings be peaceful. May all beings be blissful.' Then looking to the South, repeat the same; then looking to the West, repeat the same, and looking to the North, repeat the same. After which some of them say mentally: 'Help me to meditate upon the glory of Him who projected this universe. May He enlighten my mind.' Then they pray in silence for light and knowledge; also they repeat in silence: 'May I this day live without discontent, without self-seeking, and without anxiety.' Then follow concentration and meditation.

"After the devotional exercises we had breakfast. I cannot help remarking that the mind is in a better condition spiritually for performing and enjoying sacred devotions before breakfast than it is after it. To have family prayers after breakfast, as many do in the Western world, hinders the freedom and adaptation that the Orientals have in their devotion. In the Western world many are present out of respect or rule, having no sympathy with the devotions, sending out antagonistic aura which neutralizes the effect of worship, and makes it cold, formal, flat, dead, and dull, for there is not the right concentrated spiritual thought in the room, which is very essential for profitable spiritual exercises.

"On leaving the devotional room for breakfast, I could not help thinking what a fine preparation for the day! With such a commencement as that, no wonder the day's work is done well, without friction and in perfect harmony.

"The people in Semhee being of a social nature and free from all conventionalities of modern society, it was not long before I made the acquaintance of many very interesting families.

"I received an invitation to make my home with one of them during my stay in the city of Semhee, which I was glad to accept. I found the life in the home to be very much like that in the hotel, so far as bathing, devotions, and meals were concerned. One evening a young lady called at the house to see a young man who is a son of my host. The young lady stayed about two hours, making herself very agreeable to the young man, and upon taking her leave she invited him to accompany her the next evening to a concert. He accepted. The next evening she came and called for him, took him to the concert and saw him home. It seemed she had been very friendly with him for about two months. The following Sunday afternoon the young lady called for the young man and took him to the park, and as I was informed afterwards when the two were in a very secluded place, surrounded by shrubbery, she, in a very pretty way, told him that the more she was with him and the more she saw of him, the more she felt impressed that she loved him, and had found in him a true companion, and wished to know how he felt towards her. As he was in exactly the same state of mind towards her as she was towards him, they were engaged to be married. I became interested in this couple, and observed that sometimes the young lady would call and see him and take him out, and sometimes the young man would call and see the young lady and take her out. I do not wish to give the reader the impression that the young ladies of Tiestan always commence the courtship, for it is as customary for a young man to commence a courtship as for a young lady. The privilege and pleasure of commencing a courtship belongs as much to one sex as the other.

"One afternoon I was walking along the banks of the beautiful river which flows through the suburbs of the city of Semhee, and saw a number of boys and girls, also men and women, all enjoying themselves swimming. They would swim awhile and then come out, stand or sit on the bank of the river for another while. Sometimes there would be seen several hundred persons of all ages on the banks of the river. They no more thought about their respective natures than they did about the number of hairs on their head. Among those I saw on the banks of the river was this very young man and young lady who were engaged to be married. They were standing up side by side ready to take a plunge in the river, and in they went and swam about very gracefully. While they were in the water they both saw me standing on the bank opposite to where they had stood on the other. They swam to where I was, and came out of the water to me, and we had a little chat.

"If the young lady was invited to stay over night at the young man's house, she would take her bath with the other members of the family in the morning, and if the young man received an invitation to stay all night at the home of the young lady, he, in the morning, would take his bath with the members of her family.

"About a month after the engagement the two were married. The city Semhee employs four persons who can perform the marriage ceremony, two men and two women. They were married at the home of the young man. A lady came to perform the ceremony. She told the couple to stand up and take hands, and then she asked the young man—calling him by name—if he would have this woman—calling her by name—to be his wife, and he answered, 'Yes.' Then she asked the young lady—calling her by her name—would she have this man—calling him by his name—as her husband, and she answered, 'Yes.' Then she said: 'In the presence of these witnesses I declare you to be man and wife.' The two then signed a document stating they were man and wife, which was put on record, and that ended the ceremony. They were very happy, for each one found in the other a true, loving companion, and they were one intellectually and spiritually.

"As women are engaged in the professions, in business, and perform all kinds of service as men do, receiving the same compensation, they are just as financially independent as men are, and, therefore, have no other motive for marrying than that of true, pure love, finding in each other a true intellectual and spiritual companion. Of children they have few, for they believe in quality, and not quantity.

"The intellectual and spiritual life predominates over the animal in all its inhabitants. Do not think from what I have written about the ladies of Tiestan that they are masculine women. Far from it. They are just as sweet, pretty, entertaining, attractive, and graceful as any women to be found in the world. Yes, far more so, for their hours of duty are short. They have no care, anxiety or sickness to speak of, and their environments are such as to bring to the surface all that is pure, good, noble, and sweet; and, above all, the traveler finds the ladies of Semhee to be real, genuine, and sincere in character."

When Stella had finished reading her selection from Burnette's book, her mother had a big laugh, and asked her if she wanted to go to Semhee.

"No, mother, it is not Semhee I wish to visit just now, though some day I certainly would like to see the city of Semhee and meet the accomplished, enlightened, and free women of Tiestan. What I do want to see is the women of this country, where there is so much boast of liberty and freedom, free themselves from the awful bondage of sex superstition, and all other bondages that have been heaped upon them by people of the Dark Ages because they are women. Even those who talk so much about woman's rights, are in bondage up to their necks. Look at Laura Stevenson in Orangeville; a fine bright young girl, who makes a hobby of woman's rights, and yet see the bondage she is in. A fine young man whom she was supposed to respect very much, lay sick in his cabin all alone, and with all her talk about her independence and freedom, she never went to see him because he was alone and there was no woman there. She being a young woman, thought it would not be proper for her to do it. Laura Stevenson's independence and liberty consist in having her own way in a few things. She does not know what freedom is. Her freedom is all sham, and with no reality in it. Then there is Nora Parks, who is supposed to be advanced, and talks much on woman's freedom; but watch her how very particular she is in her conduct with young men who are good, lest she should excite the jealousy of her husband. Therefore, she is not free, but in bondage to his foolish, uncalled for jealous feelings. Talk about women being free, they don't know anything about freedom, for they are all in bondage of some kind or other."

Mrs. Wheelwright said: "Stella, among the many fine thoughts which Burnette brings out in the description of the women of Semhee, that is a great one which shows woman to be financially independent of man, previous to marriage and after marriage, too. Therefore, she can have no other motive for marrying a man than that of mating herself to a true companion. When that is done the two act as one light, whose rays reach out and shine on all around them. Blessed is such a life."

"Mother," said Stella, "I do not fully understand the meaning of the writing on the bedroom door, which Burnette describes. You remember that part which reads: 'Sex is an illusion.' I understand too well the meaning of being in bondage to sex, but that sex is an illusion I do not see the meaning of, because we know that sex is real and has its use and purpose."

"I cannot enlighten you, my dear," said her mother. "You will have to ask Penloe when you return the books."

"Well, mother," said Stella, "I am going to put some of my theories into practice. I say my theories, but I do not exactly mean that; but I am going to put some advanced ideas into practice in regard to woman's freedom. I will now tell you one of them, and another later on.

"Mother," continued Stella, "when a man lives alone and a woman wishes to go to his house to see him, she has to take another woman with her because it is not thought proper for a woman to be seen going alone calling at a house, particularly where a young man lives by himself. But if a woman lives alone and a man wants to see her he does not get some other man to go with him. No, he goes alone, and it is thought all right. Now, mother, I will be free, and, therefore, when I return the books to Penloe I will go alone."

"All right, my dear," said her mother. "I am glad, Stella, you have the courage to practise your convictions. This talk of woman's rights and freedom we hear so much about and woman's liberty that we read of in the newspapers, is just so much evasion. A woman who may have known a good man for several years dare not call on him if he lives alone. One ounce of practice, Stella, is worth a thousand tons of big talk. Go ahead, my daughter, I am proud of you," said Mrs. Wheelwright.

The week after Stella went to the house of Penloe to return the books. Penloe was in his library writing. When he heard a knock he arose and went to the door in a mechanical kind of way, his mind being more on the subject of his writing than upon who might be at the door. When he opened the door Stella said:

"Good morning, Penloe; I have come to return your books."

Stella's voice seemed to recall Penloe to where he was, and to notice who had come to see him.

In a soft, musical voice, he said: "Glad to see you, Stella; walk in," giving her his hand, and Stella was shown in to the library.

When she was seated Penloe said: "Excuse me for a minute or two," and Stella was pleased to do so, for she wanted to be in the room alone and take notes. But no sooner had Penloe left the room when a different state of mind came over her, and she did not feel like giving her attention to anything in the room. For such a wave of peace came over her mind as she had never experienced before, so that the room seemed to be full of peace. It was not a dead, sleepy peace, nor a dreamy peace, but a peace that was refreshing, strengthening, and was exactly what her mind needed. She sat in perfect bliss drinking in all she could, when Penloe came into the room. He seemed to her to be all peace. This delightful condition put her mind in a state of equipoise, such as she had never felt before; for it was a peace that was tinged with a Divine quality; and it was about to awaken her more than ever to the possibilities of the real world, the Divine world, the spiritual world, the world whose realization so far she had not a knowledge of. For her supreme life was in her intellectual tastes and in her deep, loving, true nature, which loved to see what was fitting, right, and just, actually lived; possessing at the same time the boldness and courage to be a pioneer of advanced thought, and, above all, she loved to live her ideas.

On returning to the room Penloe opened the conversation by saying: "Well, Stella, could you find anything interesting in the books?"

"Interesting, Penloe," said Stella. "Why, I have had a very rich treat in the perusal of them. I felt as if I could not put them down till I had finished them, for they contain just the light I have been seeking, and now they have become a part of my own mentality. But I wish you would explain the meaning of the expression, 'Sex is an illusion.'"

"Why, certainly, Stella, I will be glad to do so, for if there is anything that appears real it is what is known as sex, the qualities of male and female, we see in all nature. It is said to exist in some precious stones, and we know it exists in the vegetable world, and in all animal life. And if there is anything that is real to a boy or girl, it is that he or she is a boy or girl, and if there is anything that is real to a man or a woman, it is that he or she is a man or woman. So strongly has this thought become the life thought of the human race, that the members of each sex look upon themselves as being just what their material forms stand for. That is, a woman believes that she will be a purified woman through all eternity, that the woman is permanent, real, immortal, and that she will continue on, as a woman, with her womanly traits of character greatly expanded. While man thinks that as a man he is real, permanent, and immortal; that he will continue his existence as a man through all eternity, and that he will always be known as a man, and always look upon woman as woman. Any thought contrary to the reality of sex, the masses in the Western world will not accept, for they live in a sex world, and at present do not wish to rise above it, for they are in bondage to the reality of sex. In the prehistoric period of humanity there lived a race of gods, that is, a race whose members were intellectual and spiritual giants, many of them spending their whole life in thought, living on a very meagre diet, needing very little in the way of clothing and shelter, having no material desires or ambitions to gratify. They, therefore, had an abundance of time for searching for and investigating spiritual truths. They were fitted by nature and by their environments for that life, and they were gifted with revelations of the unseen.

"They were called seers or sages, because they could see spiritual truths which others could not, and it was at this period and through one of these seers that a voice spoke, 'That which exists is one, men call it by various names.' That was the conclusion that many other eminent seers and sages had come to. For they saw that there was one great Infinite Life Force manifesting itself in all and through all. That there is a correlation of spiritual forces, and that all the various phenomena are the one manifestation of this Infinite Life, which is called by some God, by others Lord, by others Brahma, by others Jehovah, by others Allah, the meaning of them all being exactly the same as that expressed in the Bible by the name of God, in whom we live, move, and breathe and have our being; that we are the manifestation of Him. In short, our real entity, our real life, our real self (the Atman), our soul (the Purusa) is Spirit eternal and immortal. Now the life of the Spirit has no sex in it, but the spirit manifests itself in these various forms of male and female. The sexual form is only the instrument, not the Being. For the Being is not sex, and, therefore, there is nothing connected with sex, that is spiritual and eternal. It belongs to the external world and the material plane, and is, therefore, a temporary manifestation suitable to the earth plane. It becomes necessary, in order to get a true conception of what we really are (that we are spiritual beings, being neither male nor female) that we get away from the illusion of sex, and not be in bondage to it. But the man must look upon the woman as a spiritual being and not think of her only for what her material form stands for. If he does he is under an illusion, being in bondage to her body, which becomes a barrier to realizing the Divine within, and if the woman looks upon the material form of the man as being the man and that for which he stands, then she is under an illusion and is in bondage to his material form, looking upon his male body as the all of man. And such a thought becomes a hindrance to her realizing her Divine nature.

"Remember, Stella, that sex is only apparent, not real. It belongs to the phenomenal world."

Stella said: "To accept the idea you have just advanced I shall have to begin and lay a new foundation to build upon, for you have swept away many things I considered truths."

Penloe said: "Stella, you are merely casting off old garments that you have outgrown, and you are now ready for a new robe that fits you. But remember never to quarrel with the old clothes you once wore. They have served their purpose and should always be respected."

Stella said: "Penloe, the truth you have advanced regarding sex will take me some time to fully digest."

"Certainly," said Penloe, "but it will not be long before you will comprehend it fully in all its relativity and make it a part of your own mentality."

Stella said: "Have you any reading matter to lend me which touches on this subject, Penloe?"

"Yes," said Penloe, "here are some lectures by the Swami Vivekanada; one is 'The Real and the Apparent Man,' another is 'Reincarnation,' and two lectures on the 'Cosmos.' And here are also two books for you to read."

Stella was delighted to receive the lectures and books. After thanking Penloe she gave him her hand, and said: "I must go, now."

Penloe held her hand, and said: "Stella, I see you are very fond of books, and they are a very great help, and I prize my library very, very much; but remember, Stella, the whole library of the universe is within you. Stella, accept a suggestion from one who is your true friend. Be much in prayer; let your prayer be for light and knowledge; meditate much on Divine things; and you will be surprised how a flood of light will sweep over you at times. Pray that the Divine, which was manifested in such a degree in Jesus, may be manifested in you." Pressing her hand, he said: "God bless you, Stella, and may you ever feel the presence of your own Divine nature."

Stella will never forget that warm hand grasp and those spiritual words. For it seemed to her at that very moment that that spiritual fire, which was always burning with such a glow in Penloe and shining so brightly through his angelic face, had caused the spark which had been growing brighter and stronger within her, to burst into a flame, and what sweet season of soul experience did she realize on her way home.

Stella had much to think about that evening. She said little to her parents; her mind was so pre-occupied she could not give attention to much else. She realized she must make the matter thoroughly clear to herself so as to have all her thoughts and ideas harmonize, before communicating them even to her parents. She did not even look into the literature which Penloe had lent her that evening. She felt like retiring and thinking. When she laid her head on the pillow that night it seemed as if it was not to sleep; it was to think. The leaven was working in Stella's mind. The truths which she had just received were powerful; it seemed as if she could not get away from them, even if she wished, for truths possess us, we do not possess them. Nothing in the universe is more powerful than truth.

After the first wave of the novelty, the beauty, the grandeur and the thrilling depth of the truth had subsided only temporarily (to be superseded by a far more powerful wave of the same character), there came over Stella's mind during this lull, a strong feeling of attachment to some of the old ideas she had held. It was very easy for her to let some of her garments drop from her mental form, and be clothed with new ones, but there were some that seemed rather hard to loosen; and which were they? One was this: While it cannot be said that Stella was vain or self-conceited, there was that strong attachment to the personal I, which is generally seen in positive dominant characters in the Western world. And as a woman she had everything to make her feel proud of her form and beauty, with a graceful carriage, combined with a bright mind and noble purpose. She had realized her power over the opposite sex. Her dominant thought had been, that as a woman she was going to lead her sisters out of bondage; that because she was a woman she had a right to vote; because she was a woman she should not be in bondage to forms, ceremonies, and customs; because she was a woman she should not be a slave to sex superstition. But now all this had been swept away, and it was hard for her to let go all the grand thoughts she had entertained about woman as woman. But, blessed, noble, courageous girl, she said: "I will follow truth whithersoever it may lead," and she inscribed truth on her banner, saying, "That will I follow."

So she let the last of her old garments drop from her, saying: "I will clothe myself with the garment of truth." The battle had now been fought and the victory won; and now a wave came sweeping over her mind, more powerful, with more beauty, with greater grandeur, penetrating far deeper, stirring the very depths of her nature, and she felt such freedom as she had never realized in her life before. With this rock, the corner-stone of truth, she commenced to lay a foundation which is eternal and immortal.



CHAPTER XVII.

PENLOE'S ORIGINAL ADDRESS.

The Roseland Gazette was very pleased to get something of a sensational character in its columns, like the different stories which had been brought to that city concerning Penloe's sermon delivered in Orangeville. The State Legislature not being in session (to see how much money they could get out of the pockets of the people for the benefit of its members and their friends), there were no sensational charges of bribery or boodle to report; and as Congress had closed there was no news concerning laws passed in the interests of bankers, railroad corporations, sugar trusts, whiskey and other trusts which are able to furnish members of Congress with funds to carry their schemes through. It happened to be at a time when news was scarce and dull, and therefore the press made the most of the matter by writing an editorial on the subject of sex relationship, which appeared in the paper the following week, and was as follows:

"In our last issue we gave as correct a report of the remarkable sermon preached by Penloe in the church at Orangeville, as our reporter could get. Since then most all other subjects of conversation have subsided in this county and the main topic of conversation has been Penloe and the sex question. As to Penloe, it is not our purpose in this article to discuss the man, but some of his ideas. The sex question is a very peculiar one to the minds of many. Penloe's ideas are so radical that it gives us a shock all over even to think of attempting to bring the people to that mode of living. The thought we have concerning our sex is instilled into us by custom, precept and example, so that from earliest infancy to introduce such an innovation as Penloe proposes would apparently, to our minds, seem like undermining our social structure and its very foundations. While we admit the state of society is morally low, yet what can be done to improve it? Can we ever reconcile ourselves to persons of both sexes and all ages undressing in the presence of each other and all bathing together naked? We question whether society is ready for such a change? Penloe's theories are like many other theories, very fine on paper but when you put them in practice they won't work. What say you, readers? We would like to hear also from our brothers of the press."

And they did hear from their brethren of the press. For other county papers took the matter up, being very glad to get something sensational for their columns; and from county papers the subject got into the big city dailies throughout California, and they printed very sensational articles concerning Penloe and his sermon, discussing the sex question at great length. It was not very long before the Eastern papers had long articles about Penloe and his sermon, and they wrote much on the subject. Then the matter reached the magnitude of what is known as a wave; which swept through the press all over the continent, causing as much comment and talk as Markham's poem, "The Man with the Hoe."

Penloe's mail increased in size rapidly, and he was now receiving twenty times more letters than all the other mail in Orangeville combined. It was amusing to see how the letters were addressed. They read, "Dr. Penloe, Rev. Dr. Penloe, Rev. Penloe, Penloe, Esq., Prof. Penloe, D.D., and LL.D." Letters came to him from every state in the Union. Here is one:

"MR. PENLOE:

"DEAR SIR:—I am shocked and disgusted with you. You never ought to be allowed to talk from the pulpit in such a way. The people of Orangeville ought to tar and feather you and ride you on a rail out of the county."

Another letter was as follows:

"CRANK PENLOE:

"Of all the cranks I ever did read about or hear tell on, you are the darndest. The women folks in my house are as hot as hell, ever since they read in the paper what you talked in church. My wife said, 'What a crank you must be,' and my mother-in-law said hell is too good for such as you. What a rumpus you have made all over the country; it seems as if hell is to pay for all this."

Penloe also received some powerful scorching letters from orthodox ministers, while on the other hand the liberal and radical elements of society poured forth eulogies and commendations for his bold original utterances, for his fearlessness in treating the subject in the courageous way he did; calling him a brave pioneer and they themselves would start Penloe Clubs for putting his ideas in practice. He received many letters from churches in some of the large cities, like the following:

"REV. DR. PENLOE:

"DEAR SIR:—Our church in this city is an elegant structure and will seat twelve hundred persons. For some months we have been looking for a popular young man to fill our pulpit. It has been very difficult to find an up-to-date man, one that will draw a congregation to fill our church, for the audience keeps growing less every Sunday, because we have not got a real, live smart man to preach to us. We think if we could secure your services you would draw the largest congregation in this city, for your popularity has swept the country from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and we feel sure you are the right man. Our people are very sociable and well to do, many of our members being rich. We are willing to pay you a salary of seven thousand dollars a year, and the use of a handsome house elegantly furnished, and will allow you two months' vacation, besides paying your expenses to come here. We will say that, should you accept our offer, our people will be glad to receive you into their hearts and homes."

Penloe always answered all such communications, but as for accepting one of them it was out of the question; for he knew it was not his field of labor, and if the salary had been a hundred thousand dollars a year, it would have been no temptation or an inducement to him to accept the offer. For money, name and fame touched him not; and nothing could induce him to leave his path of labor for the sake of going into some new field of work which only held out large material rewards. He also received many offers from the owners of papers and magazines, asking him to write his views. The New York Monthly Magazine offered him one thousand dollars for an eight-page article on the sex question; provided he would not write on the subject for any other magazine or paper. Penloe accepted the offer because he considered that was the best channel to communicate to the world his views on the sex question. Its readers were of a class that could comprehend the subject in the spirit in which it was offered. And as for the thousand dollars Penloe had a sacred purpose he wished to use that money for. A man wrote to Penloe offering him forty thousand dollars if he would consent to lecture for one year in all the large cities in the United States. The man told a friend of his, he was sure after paying Penloe his forty thousand dollars and all other expenses, he would clear about sixty thousand dollars himself.

How true it is that a prophet is not without honor, save in his own country. For Orangeville was the last place to feel the Penloe wave which swept over all the country. At last the people of Orangeville reading so much about him in their papers and magazines, began to think he was something more than a crank, that they must have a great man amongst them, or else he would never have received such big offers of money for his services as the papers stated he had, and there would not have been so much written about him if he was of no account.

Quite a change had come over the people in Roseland concerning Penloe, and they began to feel differently towards him since his wave of popularity had swept over the country. Even Stella's aunt had experienced a change of heart towards him, for she was heard to say, "People's ideas are changing now in regard to the sex question. They look at the subject so differently now from what they did when I was a girl. I did not think Penloe was such a smart man as the papers say he is. He must be, or else he never would have received an offer of forty thousand dollars to lecture for one year."

A man may possess all the characteristics of a saint and a martyr combined, and yet the average person is not attracted to him; but as soon as money and popularity flow towards him, then in his eyes he becomes next to a God; for people love to be touched on the material side of their nature rather than on the spiritual. They consider the spiritual well enough to talk about, and when a friend of theirs dies they may love to sing "Nearer, My God, to Thee" and "Safe in the Arms of Jesus," but what they really desire for themselves and families, above everything else, is a rich blessing of material things; that which makes well for the body and which puts them in a position to have full play of the emotional and sensational part of their natures.

So great was the desire among the people of Orangeville and Roseland, and in fact the whole county, to hear Penloe speak, and to see the man that so much had been said and written about, that a committee was sent to him with a request signed by the leading citizens, asking him to deliver an address to them in Roseland. Penloe accepted the invitation to speak. The committee secured the use of a large packing house for the meeting, and fixed it up so that it seated a very large audience, for they knew that the Penloe wave was at its height, and about every team from every ranch in the county would be out on that occasion. As the committee had well advertised more than a week ahead, that Penloe would deliver a public address, the news reached to many parts outside the county, so that when the day came for the meeting to be held a number of strangers from different parts of the state were seen in Roseland.

We will copy from a San Francisco paper a report of the meeting, as that paper had a special reporter there who gave a full report of the address.

—————-

AN IMMENSE CROWD

LISTENS

TO PENLOE'S ORIGINAL ADDRESS.

Meeting Opened by the Mayor of Roseland.

—————-

If a stranger had been in Roseland to-day he certainly would have thought from seeing the livery stables crowded with teams from the country, and every vacant lot and square also filled with teams, and the crowds of people on the streets all going in one direction, that some great attraction was going on, and he would be under the impression that if he went out into the country he would not expect to see a person or a team, for there never was any occasion before that brought such a large gathering of people to Roseland. Long before the time of commencement, the seating capacity of the building was taxed to its utmost. Promptly at 2 P.M. the Mayor of Roseland and Penloe appeared on the platform. The Mayor opened the meeting by introducing Penloe in the following words: "Ladies and gentlemen:—It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you this afternoon a gentleman whom you all have heard and read so much about. Whatever your views may be about his teaching, I can positively assert the lecturer is a scholar and a gentleman, every inch of him. Very often a speaker's remarks fail to have the full weight they are entitled to because persons say he has an axe to grind, or, he is paid to talk that way. Now I have not the least idea of the subject the speaker is going to talk to you upon, but this I can say, he is here this afternoon only because he was invited to come and speak. He refused all offers of money for his services, saying, he wished his labors to be a free will offering to you. Therefore I hope you will give him your closest attention, remembering he gives you the best product of his mind acquired through years of study, thought and observation; and that is the richest gift one can give another.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I now have the honor of introducing to you the speaker, known as Penloe."

Penloe rose and came forward to the front of the platform; first bowing to the Mayor and then to the audience; and as he did so he faced a sea of upturned faces, who gazed upon one of the most remarkable men this country has produced. Not very many of the audience had seen Penloe before, and they were agreeably surprised to see on the platform before them, so distinguished a personality. It seemed a delight to look upon him. But few present could begin to size up such a man as he was. Some of the remarks which one could hear whispered were like the following:

A young lady said: "What beautiful clear eyes he has. It seems as if you could see his soul in them."

A gentleman was heard to say: "He has the most striking personality of any one I have ever seen."

A lady remarked: "Is he not handsome?"

A man said: "What a fine head and noble countenance he has. It seems as if the Almighty had stamped himself on him."

"Yes," said his wife who was sitting at his side. "And did you ever see a more perfect specimen of physical manhood than he is, so symmetrical in his build?"

Such was the man who faced the large audience and opened his address by saying:

* * * * *

"DEAR FRIENDS:

"The Mayor was correct in calling what I am about to say to you 'a talk,' for if any one has come here expecting a grand oration, with flowery language, rounded periods, and finished diction, he will be disappointed.

"Now, dear friends, I love you all, and that is why I call you dear friends, and that is why I am here this afternoon to talk to you, because I love you all. Yes, every one of you. I don't care what you apparently are. Some of you may be greedy and grasping, and some may be tyrannical and overbearing, or weak and negative; with no backbone or grit or will; or you may be vain, selfish, ambitious, self-conceited, carrying your head too high; or you may be one who lives to dance; loves the whirl and excitement of pleasure; or you may be one who loves to enjoy eating and drinking and sensual delights. I say, and I repeat it again, I don't care what you apparently are, I love you all just the same. I look at you from an entirely different standpoint from which you look at yourselves. Now you all look at yourselves and at others according to sex and your environments. Before me I see men who say of themselves, I am a lawyer; I am a preacher; I am a banker; I am a doctor; I am a merchant; I am a mechanic; I am an artist; I am a musician; I am a farmer; I am a common laborer. Before me I see women who say, I am a dressmaker; I am a milliner; I am a teacher; I am a clerk; I am a bookkeeper; I am a typewriter; or I am a lawyer's wife, or banker's wife, or doctor's wife, or merchant's wife, or preacher's wife, or mechanic's wife, or farmer's wife. You think of yourselves according to that position you occupy to make your living, or according to the relationship you hold as wife, mother, daughter, or according to the family you are a member of. Then again you all esteem yourselves according to the degree of comfort, luxuries, health, money or property which each of you may or may not possess. Also whether you are young, middle aged or old.