There is no such thing as standing face to face with our inmost selves, of divesting ourselves of all pretense and sham while in the company of others, even the most intimate friend. “We do not speak our deepest feelings—our inmost thoughts have no revealings.” A certain sensitiveness debars us, even when we would do so, from showing either our best or our worst qualities. We even keep them veiled from ourselves, except when some exigency of sorrow or surprise reveals them momentarily, or we face ourselves alone in the blackness of night. It is then that real thought begins, that independence of intellect is generated, that the power of concentrated, serious mentality begins. A prominent woman writer, in an account of her travels in Scotland, tells of a half-hour in which she was left behind in a rough climb, by her companions. “To see the falls was of small account,” says she. “But just once in a lifetime to have a few blessed moments all to one’s self in those sweet, wild Highland solitudes, would not that be worth the having?” That half-hour was worth more than a whole week of castle-seeing in company with a crowd of tourists. A good digestion is as necessary to a hearty dinner as the viands composing it. And there are plenty of thoughtful women who can say with truth, “I should die if I could not sometimes be alone.” We may love our friends never so well, but there are times when we must face ourselves and “take account of stock” intellectually and morally.
There is a delight beyond expression in the realization of mental and spiritual individuality. To know and to feel that one is an independent, thinking being with the divine right to judge for herself, and the capability for sustained mental work, is an inheritance which woman is now coming into with deep and holy joy.
The world needs strong women more than ever before; it needs them as the established rule, not as the exception. What have you and I to do about it? Let us have less “gabble” and more real gain; less noise and flurry and more of the benefits of heart-stillness.
Be still; the crown of life is silentness.
Give thou a quiet hour to each long day.
Too much of time we spend in profitless
And foolish talk—too little do we say.
If thou wouldst gather words that shall avail,
Learning a wisdom worthy to express,
Leave for a while thy chat and empty tale—