all only touched his toes in the stream. The Dakotan has spent
the last few years afield. He is a tramp, a solitaire, a student at the
sources of life. Things have been made easier for him here. He took to
this life with the same equableness of mind that he accepted the
companions of hardship and drudgery on the open road. Throughout the
last summer he has moved about field and wood and shore, between hours
of expression at his machine, in a kind of unbroken meditation. I have
found myself turning to him in hard moments. Some of our afternoons
together, little was said, but much accomplished. A few paragraphs
follow from the paper brought in on this particular night:

"Vibration is the law that holds the Universe together. Its
energy is the great primal Breath. Vibration is life and
light, heat and motion. Without it, there would be blackness
and universal death. From the almost static state of rock and
soil, we have risen steadily in vibration up through the
first four senses, to Sound, the fifth. The scope of
Sound-vibration yet to be experienced by us is beyond our
wildest imagination.

"Sounds are the different rates of vibration in all things.
As yet we know Sound as we know most other things, merely on
the dense physical plane. The next great discoveries in
higher phenomena will be made in the realm of Sound. The most
marvellous powers are to be disenchanted from vibrations as
yet inaudible. The present enthusiasm over _telepathy_ is
merely the start of far greater phenomena to come.

"It is my belief that over ninety per cent of the sounds we
know and hear are injurious, lowering, disquieting and
scattering to all higher thought, to intuition and all that
is fine and of the spirit. There is not one human voice in a
thousand that is of a quieting influence and friendly to
higher aspirations. The voice is a filler, in lieu of
shortages of intellect and intuition. More and more, among
fine people explanations are out of order. A man is silent in
proportion to what he knows of real fineness and aspiration.
Outside of that speech which is absolutely a man's duty to
give out, one can tell almost to the ampere, the voltage of
his inner being, or its vacantness and slavery, by the depth
of his listening silences, or the aimlessness of his filling
chatter. It is only those fe