The river press. [volume] (Fort Benton, Mont.) 1880-current, 1905-01-04

where there exists a pure and noble being whom it can
UNIEsERVEDll love.
: When the soul has verbally drawn near to such a
being, beauty is no longer a lovely, Eteless thing that one exhibits to
the stranger, for it suddenly takes unto itselI an inporious existence
and its activity becomes so natural as to be heneetorth llREslSTI-
BILE.
As we wander from the gods within s. does ugincss envrap Is Is
we discover them. But it is only by revealing the divine that is in lis
THAT WE MAY DISCOVER TIE DIVINE IN OTHERS.
Needs must one god beckon to another. and TO signal is so inperce2i-
bic but they will every one Of them respond.
1t cannot be said too often that, be the creyi2e never 81 small,
it will yet suffice for all the waters Of heaven to pour into our soul.
EVERY CUP is STRETCHED OUT to the unknown spring,
and we are in a region where none thinks of aught but beauty.
If we could ask of an angel what it is that w souls do in the
shadow, I believe the angel would answer, after having looked for
many years, perhaps, and seen far more than the things of the soul
seem to do in the eyes of men:
THEY TRANSFORM INTO BEAUTY ALL rAE LITTLE THINGS
THAT ARE GIVEN TO THEM"
We must admit that the human soul is possessed of singular cour
age. Resignedly does it labor its whole life long in the darkness
whittier most Of us rclegate it, where it is spoken to by none. There,
never complaining, does it do all that in its power lies, striving to
tear out of the pebbles We throw to it the nucleus of ETERNAL
LIGHT that peradventure they contain.
And in the midst of its work it is ever lying in wait for the mo-
ment when it may show to a sister who is more tcnderly cared for or
who chances to be nearer the treasures it has SO tonfuny anassed.
But thousands of existences there re that no sister visits, thou.
sands of existences wherein life has infused such timidity into the
soul that IT DEPARTS WITHOUT SAYING A WORD, with.
out even onc having been able to deck itself with the humblest
Jewels of its humble crown.
And yet in spite of it all does it watch over everything from its
invisible heaven. 1t warns and loves, it almireS, attracts, repel.
At EVERY FRESH EVENT DOES 1T RISE TO THE SURFACE,
WHERE IT LINoERs TILL IT BE THRUST DOWN AGAIN, BEING
LOOKED UPON AS WEARIsoME AND INSANE.
1t wanders to and fro, like Cassandra at the gates of the Atrides.
1t is ever giving utterance to words Of shadowy truth, but THERE
ARE NONE TO LISTEN. When we raise ~ eyes it yearns
for a ray Of sun o star, that it may weave into a thought or, haply, an
impulse, which shall be conscious and very pure. And if our eyes
bring it nothing, still will it know how to turn its pitiful disiluion
into something i%nefable, that it will conceal EVEN TILL IT'S
DEATH.
WHEN WE LOVE, HOW EAGERLY DOES IT DRINK IN THE
LIGHT FROM BEHIND THE CLOSED DOOR! KEEN WITH EXPECTE-
TON, IT YET WASTES NOT a MINUTE, AND TIE LIGHT THAT
STEALS THROUGH THE ApEaTuREs BECOMES BEAUTY AND
TRUTH TO THE SOUL.
But if the door open not it will go back to its prison and its regret
= will perhaps be a lofter verify that shall never be seen, for we are
now in the regions of transformations whereof none may speak, and,
though nothing born this side of the door can be lost. YET DOES
IT NEVER MINGLE WITH OUR LIFE.