“Create!”

And I thought in my dream that by the mere desire of my being, expressed in waves of electric warmth that floated downwards from me to the earth I possessed, my garden was suddenly filled with men, women and children, each of whom had a small portion of myself in them, inasmuch as it was I who made them move and talk and occupy themselves in all manner of amusements.  Many of them knelt down to me and prayed, and offered thanksgivings for having been created; but some of them went instead to the little star, which they called a sun, and thanked that, and prayed to that instead.  Then others went and cut down the trees in the garden, and dug up stones, and built themselves little cities, where they all dwelt together like flocks of sheep, and ate and drank and made merry with the things I had given them.  Then I thought that I increased their intelligence and quickness of perception, and by-and-by they grew so proud that they forgot everything but themselves.  They ceased to remember how they were created, and they cared no more to offer praises to their little sun that through me gave them light and heat.  But because something of my essence still was in them, they always instinctively sought to worship a superior creature to themselves; and puzzling themselves in their folly, they made hideous images of wood and clay, unlike anything in heaven or earth, and offered sacrifices and prayer to these lifeless puppets instead of to me.  Then I turned away my eyes in sorrow and pity, but never in anger; for I could not be wrathful with these children of my own creation.  And when I thus turned away my eyes, all manner of evil came upon the once fair scene—­pestilence and storm, disease and vice.  A dark shadow stole between my little world and me—­the shadow of the people’s own wickedness.  And as every delicate fibre of my spiritual being repelled evil by the necessity of the pure light in which I dwelt serene.  I waited patiently for the mists to clear, so that I might again behold the beauty of my garden.  Suddenly a soft clamour smote upon my sense of hearing, and a slender stream of light, like a connecting ray, seemed to be flung upwards through the darkness that hid me from the people I had created and loved.  I knew the sound—­it was the mingled music of the prayers of children.  An infinite pity and pleasure touched me, my being thrilled with love and tenderness; and yielding to these little ones who asked me for protection, I turned my eyes again towards the garden I had designed for fairness and pleasure.  But alas! how changed it had become!  No longer fresh and sweet, the people had turned it into a wilderness; they had divided it into small portions, and in so doing had divided themselves into separate companies called nations, all of whom fought with each other fiercely for their different little parterres or flower-beds.  Some haggled and talked incessantly over the mere possession of a stone which they called a rock; others busied