Today I added two of the newly-discovered 1836 poems by Abby Poyen (Mathew's soul-mate and first wife) to my book of their best poetry, "Soul-mate Songs." I think no-one has purchased this book, yet. Modern persons have forgotten what poetry is. They have become so jaded with what passes for poetry, that they have washed their hands of the whole business. Instead, they prefer memes on Facebook, I suppose. It is fascinating what a treasure lies there, for the price of a MacDonald's meal, untouched and unwanted. But perhaps it is, indeed, for the more advanced children who are incarnating now, and for their children.
I just now finished keying in the second of Mathew Franklin Whittier's unsigned letters from New York City, this one written the third week of December, 1844, to his friend, the editor of the Portland (Maine) "Transcript." There is no question that this is Mathew's writing--and there is no question that it is the same voice as the asterisk-signed reviews, reports and essays being published during this period in the New York "Tribune." Margaret Fuller never was the author of these works, despite being the official literary editor of the paper, with one or two exceptions, until she left for Europe, and Mathew left for New Orleans, in mid-1846. Historians have it all wrong. But who do I tell? Like the poetry, this scholastic treasure-trove lies dormant, being unwanted and unrecognized right out in the open.
Rarely do I re-write an entry, but some hours later, I'm not satisfied where I took this. I see the whole picture, now--this is why, in 1847, Mathew wrote a serial story of a country bumpkin who came to New York City, and was swindled half a dozen times. This was the story of Joshua Greening, written for the short-lived humor magazine, "Yankee Doodle." Each of these examples, which you might see as me making an outrageous claim that Mathew was the original author of work now claimed for a famous figure, was, in his experience, an instance of being taken advantage of. It is clear as a bell, for me, having all the information plus my lingering past-life feelings. Why it should be such a hard sell to other people, I don't know. They just don't want their world upset, I guess.
Incidentally, the letter I typed up today is one of those instances where Mathew's higher mind worked precisely as mine does now--but still, I disagree with him, at least in part. He is saying that it is a mistake to think that life rewards virtue, or talent, and that we should work and be virtuous for their own sakes. He also says that it is a pernicious trend, teaching children to be good for rewards. If you have read this blog for some time, you will have seen me sound a very similar note--that I was brought up believing that if one could accomplish something extraordinary, Society would automatically recognize its worth, but that I had learned this is often not the case. Do you remember me writing on that theme? I could find the relevant entries if I wanted to take the time. So now, I find that Mathew was expressing essentially the same thoughts, in a very similar way. But as for virtue being rewarded, Mathew was not, in 1845, convinced of reincarnation. I am. So, same higher mind, but new information in the database, which has shifted things around somewhat. I agree that in this one lifetime, neither virtue nor talent are generally rewarded. In fact, I believe it is past-life virtue and talent which are rewarded in this life; and that it is only in future lifetimes (or, primarily in them) that present-day virtue and talent are rewarded.
I have been expressing both virtue and talent for more than one lifetime. Still, the "reward," or reaction, is delayed. I think it will be more powerful for the delay.
It is hard to sit on an incredible discovery. You want to shout it from the rooftops; you want to grab someone walking past you by the shoulder, and tell them. You want to call up an expert in a relevant subject, and explain it to them. Should such a person believe you, you would find yourself on a plane to speak to his class in person, within a day or two.
But that doesn't happen. If the person writes back at all, it's "I'm too busy, but good luck with your work." That's the best I can hope for. How much I'm made the butt of jokes at the dinner table that evening, I have no way of knowing.
I believe that "truth will out"; and I seem to recall that as Mathew, I expressed the same idea. The nice thing about watching so many mediums on YouTube, is that I know whether I am incarnate at the time, or in the astral realm, I'll see it happen.
Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.
Music opening this page, "Galileo," by It's a Beautiful Day,
from the album, "Marrying Maiden"