Wisdom of the Ages

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Wisdom of the Ages

By George A. Fuller


I speak the universal language of the spirit, and in time all men will hear me and understand. The language of the spirit translates itself into all dialects.

The stars speak the same language to all men, yet are they ever understood, for the truths they voice are heard of the spirit.

Likewise the prophet uses the universal language of spirit.

If he spake in one dialect his message would be lost to many men. But if he speaks in that which is universal his message is never lost.

He strikes the chords of sympathy and love that must vibrate in time in every human soul.

He does not stop to argue, but from the heights he has attained announces what he perceives to be true.

He is above all controversy, and will not discuss that which he knows to be true.

Out of the many discussions and controversies of men come the Babel-like confusion apparent in the so-called sciences and religions of the world.

The prophet calls to his own, and his own know his voice.

What if he dwells on mountain heights? He is not afar from the hearts and souls of men. For the spirit knows neither space nor time.

He draws unto himself those who are led of the spirit to approach him.

His voice unto them is like sweetest music and his words are the wingéd arrows of love.

His thought finds lodgment in their souls and produces in due time the harvest of perfected lives.

The strongholds of ignorance and superstition are overthrown from within and not from without.

The world throws aside its old garments no longer of service to humanity.

Customs outgrown, rites once held to be sacred disappear simply because the vitalizing spirit is withdrawn.

Foolish is the man who has no more profitable labor than to batter down the old.

Leave it alone and soon it will fall, for spirit is slowly but surely withdrawing from it.

Speak boldly thy message to the world! Not as one angered with thy fellow-men, but as one whose heart is fired with love and goodwill.

Then shall thy words live in the world, and thy message become a living power that leads to good.

One might as well find fault with the snail because he travels not with the fleetness of the horse as with the theologians whose eyes see no glory save that of the past.

In time the snail will acquire the agility and fleetness of the horse, but it may be millions of years hence. Nature does not censure the snail, but awaits with patience its slow but inevitable progress.

Then, oh, man, be possessed of the patience of Nature. Wait, and thou shalt perceive that the theologian has felt the thrill of eternal progress.

If thou art a prophet of the soul thou shalt perceive what is to be, and the equanimity of thy soul shall not be disturbed by the slow progress of the world.



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