Читать книгу A Twentieth Century Idealist онлайн

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Man closes his eyes, his vision is too weak, too limited in power and scope, to behold that which is actually before his eyesight. And while his sight is sealed by the very glory of the fact itself, and his mental vision strives to retain permanently that which he has been permitted to witness, then the Spirit speaks, speaks into the heart-life of those who have sought by striving to learn how to hear as well as to see. It is then when the eye is closed, yet all in the presence of New Life, that the avatar, theophany, renaissance, resurrection of truth in springtime, speaks the pure word of the Mind of Nature, the Creator Father,—the still small voice is heard.

Softly as a murmur it comes from all directions. To him whose life work is in one field it is a voice profound and comprehensive in nature, and he calls it the music of the spheres. To another, it seems as tender, loving and true as parental affection in its holiest moments, and this one takes his children into the fields and wood to see and hear. It pervades all life, this Voice of Thought, Being, Joy, in the resurrection of New Life. It is heard in the bird-notes from every bush as the little songsters sing to their mates, rejoicing in renewed virility and hope of cozy nests amid the youthful foliage; it is the voice of renewed youth speaking unto itself, yet not itself, but through itself into those whom it had created, preserved, saved,—a simple, child-like voice, asking questions.