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Last Letters From The Living Dead Man
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LETTER I
THE GENIUS OF AMERICA
February 3, 1917.
I want
to write of America, land of my latest birth, land of the future.
Great is the road that the Genius of America may travel, and her
feet have already passed the early stages of it.
The Genius of America!
Each land is watched over and its children guided—guided and
moved—by a Genius.
Would you feel the Genius of America, go alone into the woods at
night, watch and listen and invoke. Perhaps the answer may come, its
recognition of you, your recognition of it.
If you are one of those who can hear the
words which the Great Ones speak in the silence, perhaps you will hear
something with the ears of your soul. If so, do not hasten to divulge the
message, but treasure it in your heart; for that which is treasured in the
heart can sometimes be felt and understood by the hearts of others.
If you are one of those who will serve willingly, the secret of
your heart may be shared in silence with those who can hear in the silence.
The hour approaches when the mission of this land may be
manifested. The hour approaches when the Genius of this land shall force its
will upon this land. That will not be an easy task. So many wills have
sought to wrest the reins from the guiding hand; so many eyes, looking in so
many directions, have seen so many goals. But there is one will so strong
that it can, when its hour is come, gather up the wills of men as a strong
wind gathers a mass of loosely-lying straws and sweeps them along.
You know not the power of a will that has
God behind it. You know not the power of a purpose that has God behind it
and the future before it. Those who get in the way of the Genius of this
land will be broken, like straws that would resist the wind.
I have watched from my unseen place the labors of many. I have
helped unseen with my faith to strengthen the hearts of many. I shall wait
now unseen till the act of destiny is accomplished.
You who have followed me from my first gropings in the twilight
of the new life, before the clearness came; you who have followed me on my
journeys among the battlefields, both in and above the world, follow me yet
a little further, with your minds ajar for the entrance of the truth I have
to tell you, the advice I have to give you. For my advice is disinterested
as the rain, and my truth is offered as freely as the light.
I have come a long way since I laid down my
body a few brief years ago, years of a crowded brevity, in which the world
has moved as fast as I, and sometimes with more pain. For he who knows the
purpose of his pain can bear it better than the child who knows only that he
suffers.
I should have spoken to you before, but you would not let me.
Child! Would you stand in the way with your personal wishes, and your
shrinkings that are also wishes of a negative kind?
Blocked by your will to avoid this labor, I sought another
entrance; but it was too much encumbered by prejudices and preconceived
ideas, and all the litter of mental fragments that had accumulated through
years of residence in a creed-bound place. You who have dwelt but briefly in
many tents have no obstructions at your door, save such as are placed by
your will, and those I now sweep away.
I shall pass in and out, and speak to you as I choose.
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