Be joyous with me. A wise man once said that only the unendurable is tragic. The world, and the souls of the world, can endure the change that is coming. Have not wars prepared them for it? That is why wars had to be. America is rich. Her vaults are full of gold, her mines are full of ore, and her fresh soil is full of richness. Shall she fear a future in which labor can procure all things for the body, and faith can procure all things for the soul? The history of this land is a history of faith. Did not Columbus start across the trackless ocean, led only by the star of his faith? Did not your ancestors follow, led by their faith in the future? The past has gone back to God, it is safe as a dead man; but the future is coming to you, and your faith shall make it sure. Fear naught. In the early days of this land your forefathers slept in quiet, though the red man lurked in the forest, and hunger lurked in the failure of harvests, and men and children could only be winter-warm when trees had been felled for fuel. Now you fear famines of coal? The earth is heavy with coal. You fear famines of wheat, when your muscles grow fat for lack of exercise. They who came first to this land had varied reasons for fear, but you have no reasons for fear. Labor is sweet. The child who makes labor of play can vouch for the truth of that saying. Can you not then make play of your labor? When I was a child I built houses of blocks. I longed to be building. I dug ditches in the garden. I made boats of chips and sailed them on a puddle. I planted seeds. And learning? In the libraries of the world and in the brains of men is stored the learning of the ages. The new age will not lack the archives of all ages. Though paper is less enduring than parchment, it will last over into the new age. Fear not. By hints I convey to your mind that many changes will come. What then? All progress is change. Go out with it to meet the future, with a smile on your face and a song on your lips. The future wears a rose in its buttonhole, as your Vagrom Angel would say. LETTER III THE PROMISE OF SPRING _February 17, 1917._ WHEN you learn to think of life as a whole, of which you are a part containing in yourself the potentialities of the whole, then you will look upon these great changes with joy. The One must sometimes sacrifice itself to Itself, and by elimination secure a new lease of life. The whole--call it the race, or the earth-spirit, or what you will--may grow too fat and lazy, as a man may grow too large to move about with ease, and then by war among the organs, by fever, fasting or remedies, the equilibrium is restored, and he starts again a new man, ready to face the future. Grim, does it seem? But who told you that the purposes of life were always smiling? In the deeps of the earth and in the deeps of man are dark substances.