“That which was pure inspiration in her letters—and inspiration comes only when you work for love and not for hire, and for the approbation of one—I marked in parenthesis with red ink, meaning by this that it should be copied by her into a book which we called ‘Our Book.’ This book was not for publication, but for no eyes but our own. The thoughts therein recorded were neither hers nor mine, but ours; for I had corrected her thought or carried it further, and as she did the final copying, the form of the thought was changed often from its original intent. Thus neither of us could pick from this book our own thoughts, such was the perfect commingling. The great advantage at that time of writing out in language was that it gave precision and material form to that which was purely spiritual; serving as basis for a better comprehension of what at that time might in the hurry and strife of worldly affairs have eluded our grasp—‘Thoughts that broke through fancy and escaped,’ as the prophet has spoken.
“You must remember that each bud flowers but once, and each flower has its own minute of perfect beauty; so in the garden of the soul, each feeling has its flowering instant in which it bursts forth into radiance. Now I live amid a continual blossoming of roses, and no longer do I endeavor to imprison them in words. The exquisite joys of personal relationship with the loved one were then ours, as they are now, for nothing good ever grows stale or unprofitable unless misused. In those days there was a slight impatience to grasp these exquisite joys of thought and feeling, and this impulse you see pictured in our writing out the thought in words; but now we have come to a full comprehension of the fact that we are living in eternity, not time, and there need be, must not be haste.
“So we now live apart or together, which ever seemeth best; and when we meet it is as a bridal morning—in fact, life to us is a wedding journey, for Heaven is ours. We each are self-reliant, as you see it is not necessary for us to live together continually, and yet we each depend on the other. If accident should destroy her body or mine, the spirit of the other would also withdraw and new bodies would be formed; and of course we would ever be together, for like attracts like.
“Thus you see how, walking hand in hand, heart to heart, each working for the approbation of the other, all with perfect faith and trust, though one sinned the other was only waiting to forgive; a continual friendly strife as to who should breathe the finer atmosphere, have the nobler aim, the purer thought; that the bad died from inanition, the unworthy ceased to be simply through lack of exercise, and only the good remained and its continual use gave constantly increased power and strength; each criticising, which implies both approbation and censure. Never arguing or belittling ourselves and the theme by controversy, always full of hope, good cheer and love—which, remember, encompasses in itself all the virtues—you can comprehend how life was a continual courtship; and as fast as we were able to understand truth, it came to us clear, limpid, transparent. Things which once seemed opaque, dense, complex, now were clear as noonday. Gradually the fog lifted, we breathed the pure ozone of life. Faith in each brought faith in God; so that ‘He doeth all things well,’ was not said alone in words, but it became a part of our lives. We studied truth—we lived truth, we became truth.
“Do not imagine that our interchange of thought was limited to cold written correspondence, for at times we romped through the garden and groves adjoining our dwelling like two children. Strife and reaching out, yearning for knowledge were put aside. We endeavored to live in a soul-house, clear as glass, in which the ray of light coming from the great Source of all life and light could freely penetrate to its inmost corner. We were ever alert for the coming gleam, and ever in these play spells, which came daily, we saw the ever-rising sun of truth.
“Why I have told you so distinctly about the daily writing of our best thoughts, is because there is ever a border-land between truth and error, where dwell mysticism, which is miasma to the soul. Some talk mysticism and thus move in a circle; but by writing out and subjecting the thought afterward to the keen analysis of the masculine and feminine mind, any error is detected.
“Friend, it may seem strange to you, but there was once a time years ago when I doubted the truth of the Bible; but I was brought by my loved one out of the darkness into the light. Slowly but surely the mist lifted and the sun came out brighter and brighter, and whereas I was once blind I now see. Never doubt it, friend, but tell it to the far off corners of the earth—write it in your heart in letters of gold, that men may see the Bible is true. The life of my loved one, and my life which is hers, has proved it. For love is life, and in this love of man for woman God has pictured the true fruition—which is perfect knowledge. For is it not plain that he who truly loves cannot prove inconstant? and where the woman truly loves she is bound by the law of God to constancy. They cannot fall as long as love is held inviolate; and once loving, love cannot be violated.
“But it is growing late and you had better climb up the ladder and go to bed. Though to-morrow is the day of rest, we will stroll through the woods; and by the way, I have a great and important truth to tell you. You need not write it, but I will talk as we stroll; the nature of what I will tell is so peculiar you will remember it all and can write it out at home. You are making progress I see. You can undress in the moonlight, and I will place my cot out beneath the trees and sleep. I delight to rest out under the open sky, while the stars keep vigil, some disappearing from sight and others coming up over the horizon to take their places. How quietly they come! How simple yet ever wonderful are the works of God! And so it is that man will come to perfection, for does it not say ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God’?”