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Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn, 1857-1948

"The Conqueror"

Throughout that history great spirits had
appeared from time to time, hewed the foundations of an epoch, and
disappeared. What long-withdrawn creators had met in this exceptionally
begotten brain? Did those great makers of empire, whose very granite
tombs were dust, return to earth when their immortal energies were
invoked to create a soul for a nation in embryo? Morris reviewed the
dead man's almost unhuman gift for inspiring confidence, exerted from
the moment he first showed his boyish face to the multitude; for
triumphing to his many goals as if jagged ramparts had been grass under
his feet. He had been the brain of the American army in his boyhood; he
had conceived an empire in his young twenties; he had poured his genius
into a sickly infant, and set it, a young giant, on its legs, when he
was long under twoscore. Almost all things had come to him by intuition,
for he had lived in advance of much knowledge.
He communicated these thoughts to Troup, who left the room with him, his
head bent, his arms hanging listlessly. "He might have come in some less
human form," added Morris, bitterly.


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