< “Between The Lights.” (continued from page 8-334) >
good and true. He took hold of me in moments when my hungry soul went out for something satisfying, yet not knowing where to find it; so shutting up again and again these channels whence might have come to me this knowledge of the spiritual and the heavenly.
“‘Oh, poor, blind humanity, would that you knew the help that is at hand; would, that you could see the light above, and feel the hands that are outstretched to save.’
“‘Oh, friend, friend, didst thou not weary in those days, and grow tired of the stupid pupil thou hadst taken upon thee to instruct?’—‘No!’
“’Didst thou not wonder at my darkness and stupidity?’—‘Yes!’
“‘Didst thou never reproach me for my irreligious life, and my vacant place in church?’—‘No.’
“‘Didst thou follow me into my chamber, and look upon the mental anguish I endured, and hear the great cry that welled up in my heart Where is God?’—‘Yes.’
“‘Didst thou note the secret tear that would, in spite of myself, moisten my eye, and cause the wail to go out from me—Oh, suffering humanity?’—‘Yes.’
“‘Didst thou hear me, when other moods came on me, scoff at the church going, and mock at the so-called piety that passes current in our land? Didst thou upbraid me then?’—‘No.’
“‘Then what hast thou to say to me of all these matters?’
“‘Thou wert born into darkness and ignorance. Thou wort trained falsely, told that thou must believe such and such creed on pain of being excommunicated from the favour of God, and eternally doomed to misery and despair. The divinity that was within thee, the spark of intelligence that would have guided thee aright, hadst thou been left alone, was pressed down, driven back from thy life, compelled to hide itself deep in thy inner soul. Thou wert driven on to live falsely, to profess a belief in that which thou couldst not understand, and which in freedom thou wouldst most certainly have rejected. I pitied thee then, and resolved to be thy guide. Then came thy trials, thy disappointments, making thy heart sore. Thy eyes opened wide to all that was false, to all the misery and wrong-doing that was in the world. Thy mind became warped, thou sawest nothing but husks. Oh, poor brother, could I have reached thee then, just before that great disgust seized upon thee for all things and all men, I might have saved thee many bitter pangs; but thou wert a little too wayward, choosing thy own gloomy way, and so ended thy life in darkness; but thou art come to the light now. Thy friend always—more thy friend tonight than ever. I keep my place at thy side, to walk with thee, to talk with thee; gradually, by slow and safe degrees, to unloose this bandage from thine eyes, and give thee, not bright visions, but glorious realities; not to close thine eyes to evils that are in thy way, but to show thee the remedy; not to throw a covering over vice, but to show thee how thou canst help in uprooting and destroying these noisome weeds that so offend thine eyes. I will tell thee how thou mayest put on the harness with us, and help to remove this crust of ignorance and evil that is so crushing and so heavy on the earth. Little by little shalt thou be taught, as thou art able to bear it, until gradually thine eyes shall become strong enough to see by this new light, and look upon the beauty of things around thee. So will thy heart become delighted with the harmony that prevails. Here the rose blossoms without the fear of evil to destroy it, and here thine hands may press the green and tender leaf without fear of harm.
“‘Thou must be patient, for thine eyes are tender yet, and thou canst not bear it. Rest awhile. Be a hermit still, and conceal thyself as thou pleasest. Let this that has been given thee to-night be something for thee to reflect upon, until it shall work in thee not only the desire, but the strength to do that which has been accumulating for years, whilst thou hast wasted thy life in a hermit’s cell.
“‘I forbear to carry thee further, and will leave thee for the present.
“‘There is no curse upon thy head, no angry God to meet, no eternal torment to fear. There are no waives of the desert, no beasts of prey, for here the people love righteousness, and here the lion lieth down with the lamb, and thou art secure. Then rest, brother, rest. I will call thee “hermit” still, until thou art ashamed of the name, and ask for another.’”
The Impending Difficulties in New Zealand
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Editor's notes
- ↑ The Impending Difficulties in New Zealand by unknown author, Spiritualist, The, August 15, 1879