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The home: its work and influence

      TWO CALLINGS

      I

      I hear a deep voice through uneasy dreaming,

      A deep, soft, tender, soul-beguiling voice;

      A lulling voice that bids the dreams remain,

      That calms my restlessness and dulls my pain,

      That thrills and fills and holds me till in seeming

      There is no other sound on earth – no choice.

      "Home!" says the deep voice, "Home!" and softly singing

      Brings me a sense of safety unsurpassed;

      So old! so old! The piles above the wave —

      The shelter of the stone-blocked, shadowy cave —

      Security of sun-kissed treetops swinging —

      Safety and Home at last!

      "Home" says the sweet voice, and warm Comfort rises,

      Holding my soul with velvet-fingered hands;

      Comfort of leafy lair and lapping fur,

      Soft couches, cushions, curtains, and the stir

      Of easy pleasures that the body prizes,

      Of soft, swift feet to serve the least commands.

      I shrink – half rise – and then it murmurs "Duty!"

      Again the past rolls out – a scroll unfurled;

      Allegiance and long labor due my lord —

      Allegiance in an idleness abhorred —

      I am the squaw – the slave – the harem beauty —

      I serve and serve, the handmaid of the world.

      My soul rebels – but hark! a new note thrilling,

      Deep, deep, past finding – I protest no more;

      The voice says "Love!" and all those ages dim

      Stand glorified and justified in him;

      I bow – I kneel – the woman soul is willing —

      "Love is the law. Be still! Obey! Adore!"

      And then – ah, then! The deep voice murmurs "Mother!"

      And all life answers from the primal sea;

      A mingling of all lullabies; a peace

      That asks no understanding; the release

      Of nature's holiest power – who seeks another?

      Home? Home is Mother – Mother, Home – to me.

      "Home!" says the deep voice; "Home and Easy Pleasure!

      Safety and Comfort, Laws of Life well kept!

      Love!" and my heart rose thrilling at the word;

      "Mother!" it nestled down and never stirred;

      "Duty and Peace and Love beyond all measure!

      Home! Safety! Comfort! Mother!" – and I slept.

      II

      A bugle call! A clear, keen, ringing cry,

      Relentless – eloquent – that found the ear

      Through fold on fold of slumber, sweet, profound —

      A widening wave of universal sound,

      Piercing the heart – filling the utmost sky —

      I wake – I must wake! Hear – for I must hear!

      "The World! The World is crying! Hear its needs!

      Home is a part of life – I am the whole!

      Home is the cradle – shall a whole life stay

      Cradled in comfort through the working day?

      I too am Home – the Home of all high deeds —

      The only Home to hold the human soul!

      "Courage! – the front of conscious life!" it cried;

      "Courage that dares to die and dares to live!

      Why should you prate of safety? Is life meant

      In ignominious safety to be spent?

      Is Home best valued as a place to hide?

      Come out, and give what you are here to give!

      "Strength and Endurance! of high action born!"

      And all that dream of Comfort shrank away,

      Turning its fond, beguiling face aside:

      So Selfishness and Luxury and Pride

      Stood forth revealed, till I grew fierce with scorn,

      And burned to meet the dangers of the day.

      "Duty? Aye, Duty! Duty! Mark the word!"

      I turned to my old standard. It was rent

      From hem to hem, and through the gaping place

      I saw my undone duties to the race

      Of man – neglected – spurned – how had I heard

      That word and never dreamed of what it meant!

      "Duty! Unlimited – eternal – new!"

      And I? My idol on a petty shrine

      Fell as I turned, and Cowardice and Sloth

      Fell too, unmasked, false Duty covering both —

      While the true Duty, all-embracing, high,

      Showed the clear line of noble deeds to do.

      And then the great voice rang out to the turn,

      And all my terror left me, all my shame,

      While every dream of joy from earliest youth

      Came back and lived! – that joy unhoped was truth,

      All joy, all hope, all truth, all peace grew one,

      Life opened clear, and Love? Love was its name!

      So when the great word "Mother!" rang once more,

      I saw at last its meaning and its place;

      Not the blind passion of the brooding past,

      But Mother – the World's Mother – come at last,

      To love as she had never loved before —

      To feed and guard and teach the human race.

      The world was full of music clear and high!

      The world was full of light! The world was free!

      And I? Awake at last, in joy untold,

      Saw Love and Duty broad as life unrolled —

      Wide as the earth – unbounded as the sky —

      Home was the World – the World was Home to me!

      I

      INTRODUCTORY

      In offering this study to a public accustomed only to the unquestioning acceptance of the home as something perfect, holy, quite above discussion, a word of explanation is needed.

      First, let it be clearly and definitely stated, the purpose of this book is to maintain and improve the home. Criticism there is, deep and thorough; but not with the intention of robbing us of one essential element of home life – rather of saving us from conditions not only unessential, but gravely detrimental to home life. Every human being should have a home; the single person his or her home; and the family their home.

      The home should offer to the individual rest, peace, quiet, comfort, health, and that degree of personal expression requisite; and these conditions should be maintained by the best methods of the time.

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