"There are two reasons, my dears. One is the solemn fact that a marriage ceremony solemnized by any other than by one divinely appointed and having authority from God to do so, ceases at death; a separation from a loved one after death, to continue throughout all the ages of eternity would be far more agonizing and intolerable than the mere earthly separation which is for a few flying years."
"Well," answered Ellen, flippantly, "that's not much of a reason. If you are sure of being happy here, why not let hereafter take care of itself? 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'"
"Ah, my child, you speak with the bitterness of the world-old scepticism and unbelief on your lips. That vain philosophy has wrecked more hearts than any other phrase ever uttered. There is also another reason; a very present and most cogent reason; one that effects our every day lives. It is this: Married people should be mated on the three planes upon which human beings meet and mingle—the physical, the mental and the spiritual. If they be mismated on either the mental or physical planes, a harmonious adjustment may be possible through the diligent exercise of the spiritual graces. But if the mismating is on the spiritual plane, such a couple will surely find their happiness shipwrecked, sooner or later. Try as you may, twist as you will, you nor none other may ever escape the bondage and sorrow that comes to those who are separated by a spiritual gulf. I have never seen happiness as the result of such unequal yoking, and I never shall. When, as sometimes happens there comes a measure of peace to such mismated couples, it is simply and only because the one has sunk, or has risen to the spiritual plane occupied by the other. Mark what I say, Ellen, my girl."
"Well, I shall marry for love, Auntie; and I shall never take a sorrow on my heart which I cannot kick off from my heels."
Aunt Clara did not turn around to face the speaker; she merely said:
"I don't think God makes mistakes; and He has said, through his former and latter-day prophets, that it is not right for the believer to mate with the unbeliever."
"Oh, here they are, Auntie; here they are!" cried Ellen.
Ellen turned and ran impulsively out on the front porch; Aunt Clara and Diantha followed her in a more leisurely manner, while Sister Rachel Winthrop, the hostess of the occasion, joined them as soon as the word reached her, and thus the four women stood waiting to receive their guests under the shaded porch.
President Young led the way up the steps with Captain Van Arden close by him. The President introduced the captain to the ladies, since Bishop Winthrop was still busy at the gate with others of the party.
The captain looked with genuine yet well-guarded interest into the faces of the two young "Mormon" girls, almost the first he had met. His interest grew into admiration, as he noted the lovely brown eyes, and the curling tresses of glossy brown hair floating around the head of sweet, fascinating Ellen Tyler. Her lips were curved and rosy with health and beauty, and her low brow and delicately-traced eyebrows were like those of a Grecian goddess. Her sparkling charm was not alone in the regular and beautiful features, nor in the well-molded yet dainty form; but in and through every glance, every word, there sparkled an indefinable attraction which no one could resist. Women loved her, men adored her. And this stranger instantly felt the force of her loveliness. He was a man of the world, too prudent to manifest much interest in women of this peculiar and just now excited people, but he shot a glance of daring admiration into the brown depths of Ellen's eyes, which she, as daringly accepted.