The changes that are before us are as great as the changes in thought and life described in the late novel by H. G. Wells, entitled “In the Days of the Comet.”  In fact, Mr. Wells has indicated in that story some of the very changes that the advanced souls of the race have informed their students are before the race—­the prophetic insight of the writer named seems marvelous, until one realizes that even that writer is being used as a part of the mental machinery of The Change itself.  But the change will not come about by reason of the new gas caused by the brushing of the earth’s surface by a passing comet.  It will come from the unfolding of the race mind, the process being now under way.  Are not the signs of mental unrest and discomfort becoming more and more apparent as the days go by?  The pain is growing greater, and the race is beginning to fret and chafe, and moan.  It knows not what it wants, but it knows that it feels pain and wants something to relieve that pain.  The old things are beginning to totter and fall, and ideas rendered sacred by years of observance are being brushed aside with a startling display of irreverence.  Under the surface of our civilization we may hear the straining and groaning of the ideas and principles that are striving to force their way out on to the plane of manifestation.

Men are running hither and thither crying for a leader and a savior.  They are trying this thing, and that thing, but they find not that which they seek.  They cry for Satisfaction, but it eludes them.  And yet all this search and disappointment is part of the Great Change, and is preparing the race for That-which-must-Come.  And yet the relief will not come from any Thing or Things.  It will come from Within.  Just as when, in Well’s story, things righted themselves when the vapor of the comet had cleared men’s minds, so will Things take their new places when the mind of the race becomes cleared by the new unfoldment that is even now under way.  Men are beginning to feel each other’s pains—­they find themselves unsatisfied by the old rule of “every man for himself, and the devil take the hindmost”—­it used to content the successful, but now it doesn’t seem to be so satisfying.  The man on top is becoming lonesome, and dissatisfied, and discontented—­his success seems to appall him, in some mysterious manner.  And the man underneath feels stirring within himself strange longings and desires, and dissatisfaction.  And new frictions are arising, and new and startling ideas are being suddenly advanced, supported and opposed.

And the relations between people seem to be unsatisfactory.  The old rules, laws, and bonds are proving irksome.  New, strange, and wild thoughts are coming into the minds of people, which they dare not utter to their friends—­and yet these same friends are finding similar ideas within themselves.  And somehow, underneath it all is to be found a certain Honesty—­yes, there is where the trouble seems to come, the world