Behind the veil of Nature is the face of the Great Mother, and though she does not always smile, yet her eyes are full of dreams and mysteries. Nature is _not_ the devil. The devil is ever at war with Nature. Nature is Isis, the Mother. Do not listen to the blasphemers. They have confused the offices of Isis and of Typhon. It is Isis, Nature, which shall bring forth Horus. Go back to Nature and ask her for her message. She waits in the silence of the woods, and the voice of the brook is her whisper; when the wind stirs in the trees it is the rustling of her garments. The Mother is coming, O children of the new race! In her arms you shall know refreshing rest, and in her eyes shall you read the love that knows no selfishness, the bliss of self-giving. Too long have you dwelt in cities, forgetting the Mother who bore you. Too long have you lived without the magnetism of the kind earth in contact with your naked feet. Too long have you trodden the dead, stony and unmagnetic streets, that take from you but give nothing. Go back to the woods and the streams. Read your destiny in the eyes of the stars themselves--not merely on a printed chart. Jupiter has a message for you which he will give only face to face, and so has the gentle Venus and the eager Mars. Go to them for your lessons, in the quiet of the hill-top alone with the Mother. Do not set up your temple in the market-place. Let your cathedral be the aisles of the forest. Go to the city when you must, for it is always well to know the opposite. The cathedral is stiller after the voice of the mart. Give honor where honor is due, to those who have led the children forth to learn the mysteries of the primeval life. You grown-ups are only taller children. Dance in a ring round the mulberry bush or round the camp-fire. In the smell of burning wood the visions may come, as I wrote you once before of your wood-fires in Paris. But what is a wood-fire in a Paris grate compared with a camp-fire in the woods? Yes, I was there the other night, on the outskirts of the gathering, and I enjoyed it, too. My greetings to the Chief! The salvation of America lies in this wild-wood movement. Movement! Well may you call it that. It is stirred by the very forces of the earth herself; it is inspired by the race-spirit; it will go on and on, in ever-widening circles. Whoever puts a stone in the way of this work will stumble over it himself. Whoever brings Satanism into this movement will be devoured by the demonic forces. There will not be enough left of him to grease two sticks for the camp-fire. Rest you in peace. _We_ watch, and with us the souls of all the thousands and tens of thousands and millions of native Americans, who cannot go on to their rest until they have passed on the torch of the Nature mysteries that were their heritage from their remote ancestors. They may be despised by those who despoiled them; but their forgiveness shall redeem you, O America of the new race!