Wisdom of the Ages

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Wisdom of the Ages

By George A. Fuller


I call no one great, unless I call all great.

Each fills his place in the great plan of Omn.

Each has come at his own time.

Some have travelled farther than others, have seen more, have heard more, have lived more than others.

And some who have seen much and heard much may not yet have been aroused so that they can comprehend the meaning of all that has been.

Not all that is within thee has yet been lived. For thou encirclest all things.

I condemn not the thief, the murderer, the adulterer, no more than I condemn the wild beast for its ferocity.

Thou shalt outgrow all things, poor troubled soul.

Are these things committed against thee, my brother? I grieve with thee, but I pity thee not. Rise above all annoyances; it is possible for thee to ascend where these things shall trouble thee no more.

I have come up through the ages, uncounted and untold. On many of the stars thou wilt find the imprint of my feet. Rest upon me ages and ages.

Still on! presses my indomitable and restless spirit.

Long have been my sleeps, yet longer by far have been my awakenings.

The memory of all, dim and illusive, save at the quickening of the spirit, is never present with me.

From the star-depths stretch the great all-powerful arms that have upheld me!

For my coming great indeed have been the preparations.

From star-dust to blazing sun all have labored for me.

Tenderly all have cared for me,—the erratic comet has smiled upon me, and great stars have given me their protecting love.

Room has always been made for me throughout all my journeyings.

Rocked in the cradle of the universe the stars have sung my infant soul to sleep.

Yet was that soul a child only in its expression, for countless cycles even then were its own.

On, ever on, has been its swift flight. And, as thou hast journeyed, angels and archangels have called unto thee from out the depths.

I am the unmeasured, bent on an endless journey.

Try not to follow me, for do thy best to keep my track, I shall ever elude thee.

Blaze out, oh, brother soul, among the stars and nebulæ thine own path.

I shall lead thee, but it shall be unto thyself.

I shall point the way, but it shall ever be unto thine own path.

See, the mountain heights, purple-misted and indistinct in the distance, they stand ready and waiting for thy feet to sink deep within their virgin soil.

Make delays if thou wilt, yet sooner or later thou shalt reach their summits, and thy soul exalted shall know the meaning of the thirst unquenched and the hunger unappeased.



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