Part 4

And I would say to those to whom I now suggest experiments with clairvoyance and telepathy, that if they have planted the seeds of falsehood they will reap a harvest of deceptive appearances. Test yourselves in that way, you who believe yourselves to be sincere. You may learn something of value regarding your own karma. (Yes, I will use Theosophic or Indian terms when they express my meaning. Those who re-write the Oriental philosophies in western terms can pass for original only with the ignorant.)

What the new race needs most of all is truth. Modern science is preparing the world for the fearless facing of truth. The man who toils over a microscope that he may observe and record some _fact_ in nature, is more the servant of God than the man who with sanctimonious face tells his fellow creatures what they must _not_ do; for his work at least is positive in its results.

There are too many “thou shalt nots”; too few “I shalls.”

The new race will develop a wide tolerance. It will discourage undesirable things more by ignoring them than by attacking them. By attacking a thing we give it power.

Work more and more in the world of mind. The results in the physical will be immense.

LETTER IX

AMERICA’S GOOD FRIDAY

_April 6, 1917._

IT is past midnight. It is Good Friday. Momentous decisions for the world and for all time are heavy in the souls of men.

On the day that this day stands for, in the long ago, a man (who was also a god) stood forth alone for the ideas of love and human brotherhood. At last, after all these years, the thing for which he died may be realized. But there was a crucifixion on that Friday, centuries ago.

I have brought you from a far-away shore that you might witness a great struggle in the souls of men. You have arrived at a centre.[1]

To-day, in thousands of churches throughout Christendom, prayers will be offered to the god-man who died that the god in man might live. To-day in millions of hearts the cross will be set up.

It is so still here at midnight, at a few minutes past midnight on this day of days.

Christianity has arisen, and presses forward to Golgotha to witness an event.

Pray! Prayer is the affirmation by the soul of its unity with the One. War is the affirmation of the soul of its separateness from many.

Love your enemies. It is the only way that you can conquer them.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: I had arrived in New York a few hours before after a long sojourn in California.]

LETTER X

THE CRUCIBLE

_April 12, 1917._

LET us speak a little of this initiation through which the race is passing. Always the trials precede the attainment.

When these wars are over there will be a new world, for the souls of men will have been baptized with the fire and the blood. America must have her part in it. To her also must come the trials and the attainment. Watch and pray.

Some day I will send you back to commune with the soul of the Old World--some day _we_ will send you back. It is another Europe you will find, a Europe tried by fire, and some of it will be fine steel, and some of it will be clinkers in the furnace, for the fire proves the metal, and separates the metal from the slag.

From before the war to this day, the battles of the earth have been enacted also in your soul, the blood and the fire, the pain and the travail. You too have passed through the fiery furnace.

Long ago, when you identified your soul with the soul of the world, you took upon yourself the trials of the world, the initiatory trials. You also called down upon yourself the weight of your old karma, the effects of the causes you had set up through the ages. That you are at rest for a time means only that you have worked yourself free from a little of the load. Had you not done it now, you would have had to do it in the future. Rejoice for every trial that brings you nearer to the goal. And this I say for all men.

If I speak of the world now, instead of that part only that we call America, it is to identify the part with the whole. If I speak of you personally, it is to identify you with the whole.

Back in that Europe to which you will go, you will find two classes, those who have become fine steel, and those who have become refuse. You will know the one from the other.

They will welcome you back, for you have passed through the fire with them. They will welcome your country, too, for it now turns its face to the fire.

Be not discouraged by dismal prophecies. Man does not live by bread alone. If you have less to eat, your bodies will grow finer. If you have more to do, your minds and spirits will expand. Few of you work to your full capacity. The unit of force that is man may generate much energy, drawing it up from the deeps of himself at the call of need or of will.

Work harder now. Once I told you to rest more, but the laborers are called to the vineyard. The hour of rest will come again, when the day draws near its close.

In entering into the war, my country, put away all rancor, and fight for the right in which there is no rancor. Hate not. The hour for hate is past. (I say this, knowing that Hate and Fear, the mother of Hate, will come and challenge your souls.)

I do not hate, and I do not fear, and I shall stay with you until the day draws to its close. Are you sorry now that you let me speak again? When fear comes to your house, I will speak to you of courage. When hate shall menace you, I will turn it into love. I have found the Philosopher’s Stone that can transmute base metals into gold.

Hate will be turned to love in this land where the Eagle cries. Listen to the cry of the Eagle. It is a free bird, and it flies high. Its message has only been hinted at, in the years that have yet been numbered. The Eagle will teach freedom. They will listen--across the sea.

America is indeed the melting-pot of nations. I can find no better figure of speech. The German-American who is loyal to America now, who hides the tragedy in his heart behind a brave face, may also come through the furnace fine steel.

I am glad you know that they suffer. Hold the loyal ones in your heart, with all other loyal Americans. So you will help in the process of melting. To some of them the tragedy will open the doors of initiation. Their loyalty to a pledge is a finer trial than the fire of a battlefield. Those who are loyal must not be made pariahs. Of those who are disloyal I say nothing, but leave them to the Law.

The initiatory process! It has the earth in its grasp. There are those whom you love that it has in its grasp, too. They suffer, as you have suffered. But they shall find peace.

LETTER XI

MAKE CLEAN YOUR HOUSE

_May 4, 1917._

DO you know that the human race is being weighed in the balances? Work and pray that it may not be found wanting.

We who dwell in the clear light of that world which is to you the Other World, can see the handwriting on the wall.

The world has been too dishonest. In an honest world, could this war have been? In the world that is to come, nation will not distrust nation, nor man distrust man. But now distrust is a necessary part of the human equipment. You may trust--but not too far. You may love your neighbor--but not too much. You may do to your brother as you would have him do to you--but not all the time.

America was built on a foundation of ideals; but there is too much of the mud of personal seeking mixed with the good clay of your bricks.

You washed away with your blood one plague-spot, that of slavery; but there is another plague-spot you have got to wash away. Will you do it with the free water of good will, or will you do it again with your blood? I wait to see.

Do not say that the world’s troubles are over, because America has come into the war. The world’s troubles are not over. When the war is over--the greater war--make clean your house, O America!

There is no other civilized country where the premiums upon dishonesty are so high.

Can you buy a pound of butter and be certain that you get sixteen full ounces? Can you buy a pound of meat and be sure that the scales are true?

A new race is being born. Begin with those children, and teach them honesty before you teach them geography--honesty with the parents, honesty with each other, honesty with themselves. “As the twig is bent the tree inclines.”

When I was a little boy I was taught that George Washington could not tell a lie. I had an ideal of George Washington. I wanted to emulate him. And so when I was a man I sought truth. I looked for it on the surface of the ground, and also in deep wells. Once I spent years in the wilderness trying to find truth in myself. I remained in the wilderness until I found it. Had I not found it, I should have left my bones there.

You need a new set of copy-book maxims. If the boy who writes “Honesty is the best policy” at school in the morning, sees in the afternoon his father trying to trade a balky horse for a good roadster, he wonders if his teacher is fooling him. The disillusionment of children is tragic with menace for the coming State. I would rather see reproach in the eyes of an Adept Teacher than in the eyes of a child. If I fail my Teacher I do not hurt him seriously, if I fail my child I hurt him irreparably.

You must face the fact that the life of America is going to be reorganized.

You have wondered why I have not written of late. I have been busy, studying America. I have seen much that I can tell you, and much that I cannot tell you--yet. For I want you to be quiet. You could not be quiet if you knew as much as I know.

It has been said that necessity knows no law. Forget it not, you war-profiteers who would corner the world’s necessities. Remember that a cornered animal is dangerous, and a cornered necessity has hoofs and horns.

There is a disease that has no name among the doctors--the disease of colossal possessions. Its symptoms are a voracious appetite for more possessions, and a phobia lest possessions should be lost. It is worse than neuralgia and indigestion combined to disturb the rest of the victim.

I long to see a hundred million and more people living in peace and plenty in America.

Fanatics prattle about the confiscation of great fortunes. I do not care so much what you do with your fortunes. But I care much what you do with your land and your food, and I care more what you do with your men and women and little children.

Do not get into a panic, I pray you. A panic is worse than a quicksand to get into. Keep calm. The country is in no danger, if it does not lose its head.

LETTER XII

LEVEL HEADS

_May 15, 1917._

DO not get excited, you Americans. If you keep your heads, you will come through this all right. If you lose your heads, you may lose much besides--you may lose more than you can win back in a hundred years.

I am not excited. I have not lost my head. (Yes, I still have a head, and hands and feet. If I should try to live out here without hands and feet, the adjustment to that unaccustomed condition would have a reactionary effect upon my head. I am not experimenting in the elimination of my members.)

You see a country now, Russia, that is making the experiment of living without its head. No nation can continue as a nation without a head, and a level one. Even the most extremely republican, democratic, socialistic, or any other kind of a nation must have a head. A completely anarchistic aggregation of people could not be called a nation. Its land would be only a geographical section populated with units, and such units unrelated to other units might as well be ciphers.

Do not be impatient because I write seldom at present. I am rather busy. I shall always come when I have something that must be said.

A change is coming in America. Quite a change has already come about, has it not?[2]

This country is great, this country is strong, this country is adaptable. It can adjust itself to change. The people of this country have not been slaves for a long time. The people of Russia have been so many kinds of slaves that their reaction to freedom is unexpected by a free world. Wait! Do not lose your heads about this matter.

I do not object to there being a few persons who know that I am writing with you again. They cannot affect me, save to encourage me with their interest.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 2: It was about this time, if I remember rightly, that many of our wealthy men began working for the government at one dollar a year.]

LETTER XIII

TREES AND BRICK WALLS

_May 16, 1917._

YOU fear lest the dismal prophecies of world-disaster, of cataclysm, of the destruction of half the human race which you hear from many sources, may tend to discourage the world.

Remember that hope springs eternal in the human breast. And if the minds of men are familiar with the idea of cataclysm, they will more readily adjust themselves to lesser changes.

Read the Old Testament. The most dismal prophecies were not verified, but changes came.

Some of the “independent ministers” of America are more violent than Jeremiah. But they help indirectly--in accustoming the minds of men to the idea of change.

If panics come--and they may--refuse to be panic-stricken.

If violence comes--and it may--refuse to be violent.

If discouragements come--and they will--refuse to be discouraged.

When your brains become over-heated, look steadily at the trees. They will quiet you. If there are no trees in your neighborhood--why, look at a brick wall in moments of excitement. A brick wall is a soothing spectacle. It stands steady, unless moved from without.

LETTER XIV

INVISIBLE ARMIES

_May 23, 1917._

MANY of the soldiers out here who have become fully awake and self-conscious are striving to bring about those ends for which they gave their lives on earth. There are thus soldiers working on both sides of the war and on this side of the veil. Immediately after the change many of them fight each other; but they soon learn that they can do more effective work by giving attention to their comrades in the flesh. They can soothe and inspire and instruct.

We are forming an army out here. There is no lack of recruits. America must be saved, and few of you know how much America has to be saved from. But we know--we who have watched the world for the last two years and three-quarters.

It is not so terrible to die. It is really far more terrible to be born.

The army that we are recruiting here is made up of men of all ages--all ages in this life, I mean. Yes, there are women also in our army. There are some veterans of the Civil War and veterans of the War with Spain. Over the regiments and divisions of this army there are commanders, as over the armies of earth. Otherwise the work would lack unity of purpose. Ours is mostly a volunteer army, though conscription is not unknown among us.

You wonder what I mean? Do you not suppose that we can call a soul from a useless occupation and give him useful labor? We can and do, daily.

We have even recruited largely from the old and native Americans, the red skinned hunters and warriors who remain in such large numbers in the neighborhood of the earth. There is work which they only can do. There are many kinds of work and a great variety of workers.

I come and go, from coast to coast. I know what is doing on the shores of the Pacific, in the Atlantic States, on the Gulf of Mexico, and the Middle and Rocky Mountain States are familiar ground to me. I am renewing my youth in this period of activity. I am working for my country. I am in training, too.

Why do you smile? There is a training of the mind and the will that is more effective than any training of the physical body--quicker and more effective. Then too the astral body can be trained to a high degree of efficiency and elasticity. Surely I need not tell you this.

And I am training others. We old fellows can be very useful in a time like this. I am glad now that I came out _when_ I did, that I went through my novitiate while the world was still at peace and there was leisure for many things which now I should not have time for. I had a delightful holiday. I hunted through the wilds of the invisible, and fished in the waters of space; but now I am back at my work again.

LETTER XV

THE WEAKEST LINK

_June 2, 1917._

THERE are in the archives of the Masters of Wisdom certain data relative to the past and future of this country which would make interesting reading could they be published in the newspapers at this time of national crisis.

America is aware of her mission of democracy; but she is not aware of another mission equally potent--that of making the world safe for spiritual culture. I do not mean religion, as the word is ordinarily used; but I mean the culture of the spirit of love--such ideas of love as the world has inadequately grasped from the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, grasped and let fall again because those ideas were too warm to be comfortably held by hands cooled in the material labors of selfishness.

America has laid up for herself in the regions beyond the physical a debt--an obligation that is not by any means a treasure in heaven, but which, when the debt is paid, may be a real spiritual treasure. I refer to the armies of souls who once occupied this land as free owners, and who were expelled and disinherited by the expanding civilization which grew up in the place of wigwam and hunting-ground.

Those souls, many of them, desire to return. Many have already returned, and unless some way is open for them to live again the free life to which they were accustomed in the past, they will tend to become a destructive force. They cannot be eliminated so easily now, when they wear white bodies and claim citizenship with you. They are scattered from shore to shore of this wide land. You can tell them by their eagle eyes and their high cheek bones, by their free gait and their love of freedom. They are hard to restrain in factory and counting-house. They are clerks with a difference and laborers with a dream. Many of them have found entrance into the sun-lighted world as the children of European immigrants, for they find it easier to enter the blood of certain other races than the blood of the Anglo-Saxon, for all the Anglo-Saxon love of freedom.

A time may come when these now foreign-blooded primitive Americans will instinctively rebel against the restraining influences that have held them, when they will seek to live over again the old life of nature, even though they have to take it as the kingdom of heaven is said to have been taken.

There is coming a time when love will be needed in this land as it has never been needed before, when “live and let live” must become a law as well as a phrase. Those who long for freedom with Nature can be given that freedom. Conditions may be hard in the great cities.

I am not trying to instill fear into the American heart. On the contrary, I am trying to insure you against fear.

Not long could the wheels of civilization stop turning. But they could stop--for a wink of the Cosmic Eye.

America is going to be saved, and saved in the hour of her greatest danger. What will her greatest danger be? You must think that out for yourself.

Learn to see through the eye of the Planetary Spirit. Your view is too narrow. Where your library stands on shelves is for you the centre of things; but the centre of things is in the heart, and hearts are everywhere. If you think about the race and not about yourself, your heart will be magnified; you will see with the eyes of the heart, and he who sees with the eyes of the heart is wiser than historians or intellectual prophets.

The world must be made safe for love. All men must be provided for in the scheme of the future, all men and women and little children. It is not safe to disregard any, for a chain is as strong as its weakest link, and every link must be made strong.

LETTER XVI

A COUNCIL IN THE FOREST

ONE night, to repose my soul from the labors I had undertaken, I retired to a pine forest upon the earth, in one of the New England States. Thinking to be alone, I had sought the place; but no sooner had I drifted into meditation than a strange sound fell upon my ears. It was not like the sounds of earth, it was more subtle yet more penetrating; and I knew that I was listening to a song (if you may call it a song) by some of my fellow sojourners in the region beyond the sunlight.

Suddenly with a rush they leaped past me into the clearing, and forming in a circle, they waited. Then I saw a light that was not of earthly origin, the light of a campfire, and I knew that I had been surprised by a band of Indians who were preparing to hold some rite of their old religion.

Though I had not been invited to their ceremony, neither had I invited them to intrude upon my contemplation, so I remained and watched them.

(Yes, there is less secrecy out here, for the reason that there is greater understanding and greater tolerance.)

Soon I was looking on at a strange dance. All in a circle they swung round and round the blazing fire, singing and leaping. I did not know the meaning of the words they sang; but I could read their minds by the thought-images they formed, and I knew that they were celebrating the date--reached by what lunar reckoning I knew not--of some great Indian massacre in which they had taken part a hundred or two hundred years ago.