Read Sunshine Jane Page 12


  CHAPTER XII

  EMILY'S PROJECT

  AFTER dinner that day Emily Mead came with her work. Emily Mead was oneof those nondescript girls who seem to spring up more and more thicklyin these troublous, churned-up times of ours.

  Too pretty to be plain, too unattractive to be beautiful. Too well-to-doto need to work, too poor to attain to anything for which she longed.Too clever to belong to her class, not clever enough to rise above it.Altogether a very fit subject for Jane to "sunshine," as her aunt putit.

  "How do you get along with old Mrs. Croft?" she asked, directly she wasseated.

  "She's asleep yet," Jane said; "she was so restless all night."

  "She always sleeps days and is awake all night; didn't you know thatbefore?" queried Emily, in surprise. "Some one ought to have told you."

  "It doesn't matter," said Jane serenely. There was never any bravado inher serenity; it was quite sincere.

  "That was what made Katie so mad," Emily continued. "She said it gaveher her days, to be sure, but, as she couldn't very well sleep, too, allday, she never really had any time herself."

  "We'll get along all right," said Jane quietly; "old people have ways,and then they change and have other ways, and the rest must expect to beconsiderate."

  "Mercy on us, I wonder what she'll change to next," said Susan, withfeeling. She had just returned from listening at the invalid's door.

  "Don't worry, Auntie,--just remember!" Jane's smile was at once brightand also a bit admonitory.

  "I'm trying to believe that everything's all right always, too," saidSusan to Emily, "but, oh, my!"

  They went out on the shady side of the house to where a little tablestood, which was made out of a board nailed into a cut-off tree stump.Jane and Emily carried chairs, and Susan brought her darning basket. Itwas delightfully pleasant. From time to time Jane or her aunt slipped inand listened at the door, but old Mrs. Croft slept on like a baby.

  "I do wonder if Katie Croft has really gone for good!" Emily said toSusan, while Jane was absent on one of these errands.

  "I can't trust myself even with my own opinions," said Susan reservedly;"I haven't much time to get changed before Matilda comes, you know, andI want to believe in Jane's religion if I can. It's so kind of warm andcomforting. I like it."

  "Jane," Emily said, turning towards her when she returned, "I've cometo-day on an awfully serious errand, and I want you to help me."

  "I will certainly, if I can. What is it?"

  "Do you really believe that wanting anything shows that one is going toget it? You said something like that the other day."

  "I know that one can get anything one wants," Jane answered gravely; "ofcourse the responsibility of some kinds of wanting is awfully heavy. Butthe law doesn't alter."

  "Can you explain it to me?"

  "Yes, that's it," said Susan, "you tell us how to manage. I want to getsomething myself. Or I mean it's that I want something I've got to goaway again. Or I guess I'd better not try to say what I mean."

  "But you won't either of you understand what I mean, when I tell you,"said Jane. "It's just as I said before, it takes a lot of study to getyour brain-cells to where they can hold an idea that's really new toyou. Heads are like empty beehives,--you have to have the comb beforeyou can have the honey, and every different kind of study requires adifferent kind of cells just for its use alone. When things don'tinterest us, it's because the brain-cells in regard to that subject havenever been developed. That's all. That's what they taught me."

  "I think it's interesting," said Susan. "I always thought that theinside of my head was one thing that I didn't need to bother about.Seems it isn't, after all. Go on, you Sunshine Jane, you."

  "I'm like your aunt. I thought that what I thought was the last thingthat mattered," said Emily.

  "Everything matters. There's nothing in this world that doesn't matter,because this world is all matter. Anything that doesn't matter must bespirit. Don't you see that when you say and really mean that a thingdoesn't matter, you mean that to you it isn't material,--that it's nopart of your world?"

  "Dear me, I never thought of that," said Susan, "then I suppose as longas things do matter to us, it means we just hang on to them and holdthem for all we're worth."

  "Yes."

  "But, Jane, thoughts can't matter much? Or we can forget things."

  "There isn't anything that we can think of at all that we are ever freenot to think about again--that is, if it's a good thought," said Jane."If a thought comes to us at all, it comes with some responsibilityattached. Either we are meant to gain strength by dismissing it, if itseems wrong, or it's our duty to do something with it, if it's right.Most people's minds are all littered up with thoughts that they nevereither use or put away. That's what makes them so stupid."

  "Goodness!" exclaimed Susan. "Why, I never put a thought away in mylife,--not as I know of."

  "I've never thought anything at all about my thoughts," said Emily,looking rather startled.

  "Lots of people don't," said Jane; "they act just as a woman would inmaking a dress, if she cut it out a bit now and a bit then without everlaying the pattern back even, and then joined it anywhere any time, andthen was surprised when it didn't even prove fit to wear--not to speakof looking all witched."

  "Is that what ails some lives?" Emily asked, looking yet more startled.

  "It's what ails almost every life. It's what makes 'I didn't think' theworst confession in the world. A man driving a motor with his eyes shutwouldn't be a bit worse. Life's a great powerful force always rushingon, and we swing into the tide and never bother to row or to steer or tosee that our boat is water-tight."

  "You make me feel awful, Jane. As if I'd been lazy, staying in bed so.And it was the only way."

  "You couldn't do any better, Auntie. At least you weren't doing anythingwrong. Being moored in a little, quiet cove is better than being adriftand slamming into the boats of others."

  "I'd really have had to think more about Matilda's thoughts than my own,if I'd known. I'd never have had time for much thinking as I pleased inthe way you say; I was always jumping up and flopping down."

  "Jane," said Emily earnestly, "then every thought matters?"

  "Yes, or matterates." Jane smiled. "If a thought doesn't produce good,it'll surely produce bad,--it's got to do something. You plant yourthoughts in time just as one plants seed in the ground, and any furtherthoughts of the same kind add to its strength until enough strengthcauses an appearance in this world."

  "You really believe that?"

  "I know it. I know it so well that I think that every seed that's everfallen was a lesson that we were too stupid to learn. Every time a seedfell and germinated, God said: 'There, that's the very plainest teachingon earth. Can't you see?' Sometimes I think the world's all a book forus to learn heaven in, just as our bodies explain our souls to us."

  Susan looked at Emily in an awed way. "I guess I can get to believe itall," she said, in a low tone; "it sounds so plain when you stop andthink of it."

  "I'll try to believe it," said Emily, "but what I care most about is tolearn how to get what you want?"

  Jane considered. "That comes ever so far along. You have to learn to getwhat you want out of yourself before you can be upon the plane where younaturally get what you want, because you are too far on to want what youcouldn't get."

  Emily didn't understand and didn't care. "Do tell me how it's done,anyway," she begged eagerly.

  "I don't know whether what I say will have any meaning for you, but I'llsay it, anyway. You'll have to know that it's what I believe and liveby, and if you're to believe it and live by it, it will come to youquite easily, and if not it's because it isn't for you yet."

  "I mean to believe," said Emily firmly. "I want something, and I'll doanything to get it."

  Jane shook her head. "That's the very hardest road to come by," shesaid, "unless it's some overcoming in yourself that you are wanting. Yousee, the very first step has to be the conquering of
ourselves, not theasking for material things. You have to open a channel for the spirit,and then the material flows through afterwards, as a matter of course.But if you've gone on a good ways, you don't think of getting _things_at all; you just want opportunities to grow, and you know that what youneed for life will keep coming."

  "But it doesn't with lots of people," said Emily. "Just look at thepoor--and the suffering."

  "They aren't living according to this law," said Jane. "They're livingon another plane. There are different planes."

  "Don't you see," interposed Susan, "we asked Mrs. Croft because it wouldget me on a plane where, when Matilda came back, she wouldn't mind somany changes."

  Emily looked inquiring. "A different plane?"

  "Yes," said Jane, "you can lift yourself straight out of any circle ofconditions by suddenly altering all your own ideas--if you've strengthto do so."

  "I'd never have asked Mrs. Croft alone by myself, you know," said Susan;"nobody that looked at things the way other folks do, would. But Janelooks at everything different from everybody else. She said it would bea quick way of being different. I guess she's right."

  "I never heard any ideas like that."

  "But they aren't new," said Jane; "they're older than the hills. Godmade the world and then gave every man dominion over his world. We allhave the whole of _our_ world to rule. This way of looking at things isnew to you, but there are thousands and thousands of people proving ittrue every day. All the old religions teach it, and all the newreligions bid you live it or they won't be for you. They don't kill menfor not believing now. They just let them live and suffer and goblundering on. Why"--Jane grew suddenly pink with fervor--"why,everywhere I look, almost, I see just lovely chances being let die,because people won't fuss to tend them. People are too careless and toothoughtless. The truth is so plain that the very word 'thoughtless'fairly screams what's the matter to every one, but hardly any onebothers."

  "But the people who believe as you do,--do they all get everything thatthey want?" asked Emily.

  "Or else they want what they get," said Jane; "it comes to exactly thesame thing when you begin to understand. The beauty of every step nearerGod is the new learning of how exactly right his world is managed. Allmy old puzzles have been cleared up, and it's so wonderful. Why, I usedto think that when beautiful, dear little children died it was awful;but now I know that they came to help and teach others, and that whenthey'd spread their lesson to those others, they didn't need lessonsthemselves and just left the school and went back into the beautifulworld of Better Things. It was such a help to me to know why splendidmen and women who were needed went so suddenly sometimes; it's becausethey're needed much more elsewhere and respond to that call of duty atonce. I don't think of death as anything dreadful now; I think of it asa door that will open and close very easily for me."

  "It's one door that Matilda liked to keep setting open," saidSusan,--"oh, dear me, Jane, I'm trying to grow brain-cells and be acredit to you, and I can't think of anything but old Mrs. Croft. Perhapsshe's woke up."

  Jane rose and went into the house.

  "Do you think you can take it all in?" Emily asked, slowly andthoughtfully.

  "I'm doing my best," said Susan, "she's so happy and so good I think shemust know what she's talking about."

  Jane came back. "She's still sleeping," she said; "don't you worry, dearAuntie."

  "I can't help it," said Susan. "I've dodged about for so long and playedthings were so that weren't so, that I guess I'm pretty much out oftune, and it'll be a little while before I can stop worrying."

  "No, you aren't out of tune," said Jane, smiling at her affectionately,"or if you are, just say you're in tune and you will be, right off."

  "Do you believe that?" Emily asked.

  "Why, of course. I know it absolutely for myself, and I know that it'sequally true for others if they have the strength to declare it."

  "But how?"

  "How! Why, because every declaration of good is spiritual, and provesthat you are one with your soul and master over your body, just as falsedeclarations make you one with your body and take away all power fromyour soul. That's how mental cures work. When anybody says 'I am well,'she declares souls can't be ill, and she makes Truth stronger by addingher strength to its strength. But when a man says 'I am ill,' hedeclares a lie, for souls can't be ill, and so he's claiming not to bespiritual, but just to be his own body. It's as if a weaver stoppedweaving and said: 'I've broken several threads, and _I'm_ going to beimperfect, and _I_ won't bring any price, and _I'll_ only be fit to cutup into cleaning cloths.' What would you think of him? You'd say: 'Why,that's only an hour's work in cloth and can be put aside without furtherthought. Just go right on and with your skill and judgment make the nextpiece perfect. It was never any of it _you_; it was the stuff you weremaking.' Bodies are the stuff we are making."

  Emily laid down her work. "Jane, that's wonderful," she said solemnly."You put that so that I really got hold of it. I understand exactly whatyou mean, and if only everybody else did!"

  "But nobody else really matters to you," said Jane; "all that matters toyou is that you believe. They have their lives--you have yours."

  Emily was looking very earnest. "I'm going to try," she said, rising."I'm going to try. I must go now, but I'm going home to go to work in myworld."

  Jane walked with her to the gate. "I'll help you all I can," she said,"I'm so glad you're interested. It makes life so splendid."

  Emily stopped and took her hand.

  "Jane," she said, "I want to tell you something. I want tomarry Mr. Rath. I think he's the nicest man I ever saw. Do youreally--really--believe that I can, if I learn to think as you do?"

  Jane turned white beneath the other's eyes. "Why, but don't youknow--don't you _see_ that he's in love?"

  "In love! With you?"

  "With me,--oh, _no_. With Madeleine."

  "Oh, no, he's not in love with her," said Emily decidedly; "I know that.I know that perfectly well."

  "They knew one another before they came here, you know."

  "Why, I see them round town together all hours," said Emily; "they'relike brother and sister, they're not one bit in love. I thought thatperhaps it was you."

  "Oh, dear, no--I can't marry. I never even think of it."

  "Don't you use any of your ideas with him?"

  "No, indeed! I never ask anything for myself any more. I just ask tomanifest God's will,--to help in any of His work that offers."

  "You're awfully good, dear. But, honestly, do you think that I couldsurely get him if I tried?"

  "Why, the law is certain, but"--Jane spoke gently--"you're so far fromunderstanding it yet. I only told you a little. It takes ever so long toget one's mind built to where it will grasp an ideal and hold it withoutwavering once. There's such a lot I didn't tell you; I couldn't in thosefew minutes. I just showed you the picture, and you have to work hardtill you learn how to paint it. You see, a wish is like blowing abubble, and if you add wishes and more wishes, you gradually change thebubble into a solid mold, which is a real thing of spirit but empty ofmaterial; then, if you keep it solid and firm, the fact of it is realspiritually, and a vacuum as to matter makes the matter just _have_ tofill it, and it is that filling into the mold shaped by our thoughtsthat makes what we see and live here in this world. The world is allmatter circulating in thought-molds. Anything that you carefully andsteadily and consistently think out must become manifest. Godmanifesting His will means that. We are His will. And the nearer weapproximate to the highest in Him, the more we can manifest ourselves.That's why very good people are seldom rich; they want to manifest indeeds and not in things. That's why they never keep money--it onlyrepresents to them the need of others. If you really and truly love Mr.Rath, and feel it steadily and steadfastly your mission to make him veryhappy, of course it will be, even though he loved some one else. But towant a man who loved some one else wouldn't be possible to any one whobelieved in this teaching. That's where it is, you see. Wh
en you getpower, you never want to do evil with it. Power from God never manifestsin evil. When you are where you can get whatever you want, it simplymeans that you are living where only good can come, and where you areable to see it coming."

  Emily stood perfectly still, looking downwards. Then suddenly she burstinto violent sobs. "Oh, I feel so small, so mean--so wicked. It isn't asyou feel a bit with me. I just want to get out of this stupid town--andhe's so good-looking!"

  Jane's eyelids fell.

  "I feel so mean and petty," Emily went on, pressing her hands over herface. "I could never be good like you. I can't understand. I just wantto be married. I'm so tired of my life."

  "Well," said Jane, with steady firmness, "why don't you go to him andtalk it all over nicely? As you would with Madeleine or me. Perhaps thatwould be best."

  "Do you really think so?" said Emily, lifting her eyes; "do you believethat a girl can go to a man and be honest with him, just as a man canwith a woman?"

  "I couldn't," said Jane, "because I wouldn't want to, but if you want todo it, I don't see why you can't."

  "But why wouldn't you?"

  "Because I get my things that other way,--simply by asking God to guideme towards His will and guide me from mistake."

  "Did you do that about asking old Mrs. Croft?"

  "Certainly. I do it about everything. I live by that rule now. I'veabsolute faith in God's guidance."

  Emily looked at her. "It must be beautiful," she said, "and you reallythink that it would be all right for me to go and talk to him, do you?"

  "Yes," said Jane slowly. "I think that it would be best all round."

  "After all, this is the woman's century," said Emily, with a suddenenergy quite unlike her previous interest. "I don't know why Ishouldn't."

  "I think that the best way to handle all our problems is to let themflow naturally to their finish," said Jane; "dammed or choked riversalways make trouble."

  "I should like to say just what I felt to a man just once," said Emilythoughtfully. "It would do me a world of good."

  "Then say it," said Jane. "Only are you really sure that he's not inlove with Madeleine?"

  "Oh, I'm positive as to that."

  "Then go ahead."

  They parted, and Jane returned to the house. She was not so entirelyspiritual that she could repress a very human kind of smile over Emily'sproject.