Herland Charlotte Perkins Gilman (ebook and pdf reader TXT) đ
- Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman
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Here was a religion which gave to the searching mind a rational basis in life, the concept of an immense Loving Power working steadily out through them, toward good. It gave to the âsoulâ that sense of contact with the inmost force, of perception of the uttermost purpose, which we always crave. It gave to the âheartâ the blessed feeling of being loved, loved and understood. It gave clear, simple, rational directions as to how we should liveâ âand why. And for ritual it gave first those triumphant group demonstrations, when with a union of all the arts, the revivifying combination of great multitudes moved rhythmically with march and dance, song and music, among their own noblest products and the open beauty of their groves and hills. Second, it gave these numerous little centers of wisdom where the least wise could go to the most wise and be helped.
âIt is beautiful!â I cried enthusiastically. âIt is the most practical, comforting, progressive religion I ever heard of. You do love one anotherâ âyou do bear one anotherâs burdensâ âyou do realize that a little child is a type of the kingdom of heaven. You are more Christian than any people I ever saw. Butâ âhow about death? And the life everlasting? What does your religion teach about eternity?â
âNothing,â said Ellador. âWhat is eternity?â
What indeed? I tried, for the first time in my life, to get a real hold on the idea.
âIt isâ ânever stopping.â
âNever stopping?â She looked puzzled.
âYes, life, going on forever.â
âOhâ âwe see that, of course. Life does go on forever, all about us.â
âBut eternal life goes on without dying.â
âThe same person?â
âYes, the same person, unending, immortal.â I was pleased to think that I had something to teach from our religion, which theirs had never promulgated.
âHere?â asked Ellador. âNever to dieâ âhere?â I could see her practical mind heaping up the people, and hurriedly reassured her.
âOh no, indeed, not hereâ âhereafter. We must die here, of course, but then we âenter into eternal life.â The soul lives forever.â
âHow do you know?â she inquired.
âI wonât attempt to prove it to you,â I hastily continued. âLet us assume it to be so. How does this idea strike you?â
Again she smiled at me, that adorable, dimpling, tender, mischievous, motherly smile of hers. âShall I be quite, quite honest?â
âYou couldnât be anything else,â I said, half gladly and half a little sorry. The transparent honesty of these women was a never-ending astonishment to me.
âIt seems to me a singularly foolish idea,â she said calmly. âAnd if true, most disagreeable.â
Now I had always accepted the doctrine of personal immortality as a thing established. The efforts of inquiring spiritualists, always seeking to woo their beloved ghosts back again, never seemed to me necessary. I donât say I had ever seriously and courageously discussed the subject with myself even; I had simply assumed it to be a fact. And here was the girl I loved, this creature whose character constantly revealed new heights and ranges far beyond my own, this superwoman of a superland, saying she thought immortality foolish! She meant it, too.
âWhat do you want it for?â she asked.
âHow can you not want it!â I protested. âDo you want to go out like a candle? Donât you want to go on and onâ âgrowing andâ âandâ âbeing happy, forever?â
âWhy, no,â she said. âI donât in the least. I want my childâ âand my childâs childâ âto go onâ âand they will. Why should I want to?â
âBut it means Heaven!â I insisted. âPeace and Beauty and Comfort and Loveâ âwith God.â I had never been so eloquent on the subject of religion. She could be horrified at Damnation, and question the justice of Salvation, but Immortalityâ âthat was surely a noble faith.
âWhy, Van,â she said, holding out her hands to me. âWhy Vanâ âdarling! How splendid of you to feel it so keenly. Thatâs what we all want, of courseâ âPeace and Beauty, and Comfort and Loveâ âwith God! And Progress too, remember; Growth, always and always. That is what our religion teaches us to want and to work for, and we do!â
âBut that is here,â I said, âonly for this life on earth.â
âWell? And do not you in your country, with your beautiful religion of love and service have it here, tooâ âfor this lifeâ âon earth?â
None of us were willing to tell the women of Herland about the evils of our own beloved land. It was all very well for us to assume them to be necessary and essential, and to criticizeâ âstrictly among ourselvesâ âtheir all-too-perfect civilization, but when it came to telling them about the failures and wastes of our own, we never could bring ourselves to do it.
Moreover, we sought to avoid too much discussion, and to press the subject of our approaching marriages.
Jeff was the determined one on this score.
âOf course they havenât any marriage ceremony or service, but we can make it a sort of Quaker wedding, and have it in the templeâ âit is the least we can do for them.â
It was. There was so little, after all, that we could do for them. Here we were, penniless guests and strangers, with no chance even to use our strength and courageâ ânothing to defend them from or protect them against.
âWe can at least give them our names,â Jeff insisted.
They were very sweet about it, quite willing to do whatever we asked, to please us. As to the names, Alima, frank soul that she was, asked what good it would do.
Terry, always irritating her, said it was a sign of possession. âYou are going to be Mrs. Nicholson,â he said. âMrs. T. O. Nicholson. That shows everyone that you are my wife.â
âWhat is a âwifeâ exactly?â she demanded, a dangerous gleam in her eye.
âA wife is the woman who belongs to a man,â he began.
But Jeff took it up eagerly: âAnd a husband is the man who belongs to a woman. It is because we are monogamous, you know. And marriage is the ceremony, civil and religious, that joins the
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