“Henry has a good and fine nature, one worthy of the warmest love of some woman.  We are both on the same mental plane, yet he has not the strength to brave the world’s opinion.  In my atmosphere he seems to see as I do, and to realize that we should be far better apart,—­better physically and spiritually,—­but when he leaves me he becomes weak and distrustful of himself.  I cannot say that I regret my experience; but something within tells me that it has come to an end.  We shall both suffer; I feel it; no ordeal of the soul is passed without it, but my life will be far better alone, far better.  Now can you give me any strength or sympathy? for I know well that I must walk through life with but little of human friendship.  My act is frowned upon by all my relatives, which, of course, only serves to raise my individuality to a higher point, and throws me still deeper into self.  I have no children, and can easily take care of myself.  Does my decision seem rash or impulsive to you?”

“Far from it.  My warmest sympathies are with you, and with all who, seeing the right, pursue it regardless of what the world may say or do.  A deep, conscientious regard for the best interests of the two most intimately concerned in such a step, is all that is required.  You are under inspiration now, and what you have done will be seen to be best for your individual lives.  You have left him because there was wanting that heart reciprocity, which is the vital current of conjugal life.  The experience was necessary for you, else it would not have been given you.  Look on it as such, as no loss to you or to him, and life with its thousand harmonies will flow to you.  If the married could but see that the moment they are not in spiritual harmony they are losing life and strength, and in order to avoid the loss would seek a change of some kind,—­such change as their interior wisdom may determine,—­earth would be a paradise to-day, and family relations what God designed they should be.  But it is usually the case, that, instead of a mutual discernment of this truth, one only perceives it, and it follows that it is best the evil should for a time be borne, for the one of smaller vision would only be filled with jealousy and unrest at the suggestion even, of a change.  There are innumerable families that this very moment should change their relations.  Old elements should be superseded by new; conditions which have surrounded them so long that they have become powerless for good and powerful for evil, so far as physical and spiritual strength is concerned, should be radically changed.  We need a revolution in social life, an amendment to the constitution which governs society.  Have this right, and all will be right,—­politics, religion, and all else.  Slowly these truths are being unfolded to the comprehension of the human mind.  Some have seen them for years; and they whose views of life have been broadened and deepened by the adoption of a spiritualistic faith, long since became familiar with them.  Such are now catching glimpses of the coming light, and have the assurance that ere long will arise the perfect day.”