Part 11
“If you also should learn to say ‘Thy will be done’ to our Father who is in heaven,” I said, “it might help you toward the attainment of that soul you were wanting and waiting for, when last we met in Paris.”
“How could our Father help me?”
“It was He who gave souls to men,” I said.
The eyes of the sylph were brilliant with something almost human.
“And could He give a soul to me?”
“It is said that He _can_ do anything.”
“Then I will ask Him for a soul.”
“But to ask Him for a soul,” I said, “is not to pray the prayer your friend prays.”
“He only says----”
“Yes, I know. Suppose you say it after him.”
“I will, if you will tell me what it means. I like to do what my friend does.”
“Thy will be done,” I said, “when addressed to the Father in heaven, means that we give up all our desires, whether for pleasure or love or happiness, or anything else, and lay all those desires at His feet, sacrificing all we have or hope for to Him, because we love Him more than ourselves.”
“That is a strange way to get what one desires,” she said.
“It is not done to get what one desires,” I answered.
“But what is it done for?”
“For love of the Father in heaven.”
“But I do not know the Father in heaven. What is He?”
“He is the Source and the Goal of the being of your friend. He is the One that your friend will re-become some day, if he can forever say to Him, Thy will be done.”
“The One he will re-become?”
“Yes, for when he blends his will with that of the Father in heaven, the Father in heaven dwells in his heart and the two become one.”
“Then is the Father in heaven really the Self of my friend?”
“The greatest philosopher could not have expressed it more truly,” I said.
“Then indeed do I love the Father in heaven,” breathed the sylph, “and I will say now every day and all day, ‘Thy will be done’ to Him.”
“Even if it separates you from your friend?”
“How can it separate me from my friend, if the Father is the Self of him?”
“I would that all angels were your equal in learning,” I said.
But Meriline had turned from me in utter forgetfulness, and was saying over and over, with joy in her uplifted face, “Thy will be done! Thy will be done!”
“Truly,” I said to myself, as I passed along the line, “he who worships the Father as the Self of the beloved has already acquired a soul.”
_April 29._
LETTER XXXV
BEHIND THE DARK VEIL
ONE night, when the roar of battle was still, and the rays of the full moon shone down upon trampled mud, and man-filled trench, and tender spring-green growing things and soft-hued flowers, I met face to face a powerful being in a dark mantle who passed along the line of war with slow, majestic steps.
Seeing me he paused, and I paused also, struck by the grace of his tall form and the royal air of him. His face was veiled.
“Who are you,” he said, “who walk here at this hour as if in meditation?”
“I am a man much given to meditation,” I replied, “and this hour seems fit for it.”
“And what was the subject of your meditation?”
“The war below us.”
“And what was the course of your thoughts, which my appearance interrupted?”
“My thoughts were of peace,” I said, “and they were full of questions as to how the carnage of this war might be made to cease.”
“Your questions were in order,” the majestic being answered. “Perhaps I can be of help to you.”
“Will you not unveil?” I suggested, “for I like to see the faces of those with whom I hold converse.”
He threw back a fold of the dark covering of his head, revealing a face which I know not how to describe. Power and evil were blent in it, and a strange beauty, both superhuman and subhuman. The face was marked as if by an eternity of pain and struggle; but in the eyes was a light of will which startled me by its force.
“Who are _you_?” I asked.
“What matter who I am?” he replied. “I am one who can solve the problem of your meditations.”
“You do not look like an angel of peace,” I said, “but rather like one who has seen much war of his own making.”
“It is for that reason that I am competent to speak of peace. What do the peaceful know of peace? Only the warrior knows the meaning of that word.”
“I will listen,” I said, “to whatever you have to say; for I recognize that you know something of the Law.”
“I am one of the executors of the Law,” he answered, “and I have a plan for bringing peace to the world.”
“Will you state that plan?”
“It is for that I came out here to meet you,” he said.
“And how did you learn of me?”
“I know all the strong workers and many of the weak ones. You are a powerful worker.”
“Truly you do me too much honor,” I said, “for I am only a humble soldier in the army of the Law’s executants.”
“The modesty of the great,” he observed, while he eyed me closely to see the effect of his words.
“Whoever you are,” I said, “and I perceive that you are something unusual, know that my interest in my own stature is no longer paramount with me.”
“It is for that reason that you may be used in the interest of peace.”
“Continue,” I requested.
He regarded me for a time with brilliant, questioning eyes, and then he asked:
“You are weary of war, of the labor of war?”
“I am weary with my sympathy for those who suffer.”
“And you would like to end their suffering?”
“It seems to me at times,” I said, more to myself than to him, “that I would gladly give my life, if by so doing I could shorten the horrors down here.”
“Your life? And what do you mean by your life!”
“I mean my consciousness of freedom, my freedom of consciousness.”
“A good definition of the life of such as you,” he observed. “And would you really sacrifice that life for the world?”
“Most gladly, if by so doing I could save the world.”
“It might be possible,” he said.
“Will you speak more plainly?” I demanded. “You seem to me to be feeling your way to some statement of importance.”
“What can be more important,” he returned, “than the sacrifice of such a life as yours for the world?”
“Go on.”
“There is a way,” he said, “by which your sacrifice of what you call ‘the consciousness of freedom and the freedom of consciousness’ might save those men down there from further pain.”
“Again I repeat, go on.”
“It lies in my power,” he said, coming nearer and regarding me fixedly with his glowing eyes, “it lies in my power so to work upon the minds of the opposing armies, the armies on both sides, that they will refuse to fight any longer.”
“And betray their countries?” I asked.
“And bring peace,” he corrected me.
“And what have I to do with it?”
“You might have much to do with it.”
“Your words are still dark to me,” I said.
“Then I will make them clearer,” he replied. “In order for you to understand my meaning, it is necessary that I explain myself. I am one of those who serve the good by opposing the good, and thus giving it greater activity.”
“So I had observed. Will you now state in clear words what purpose you have with me?”
“My purpose is to make you a proposition. If you wish this carnage to cease--and already it has gone on long enough to serve the purpose which I serve, to soak the world with blood, to destroy that which a decade of labor will be too brief to rebuild, to awaken all the hatred and other evil passions which nest in the hearts of men--if you wish this carnage to cease, I have the means by which it can be made to cease.”
“And where do I come in?”
“I have long observed you,” he said, “observed your diligence in applying the principles given you by your Teacher.”
“Then why did you ask me who I was, a little while ago?”
“Only as a preliminary to further conversation.”
“Oh!” I said.
“I have observed you,” he repeated, “and realized that with your power and attainments you might be of greater service if you should shift your allegiance and join us. Your consciousness of freedom would be even greater.”
“But that consciousness of freedom was my definition of life! I suppose you would say, in adjusting your argument to the limitations of my mind, that in losing my life I should find it.”
A slight smile curved the lined features of the being before me.
“You would be always an entertaining companion,” he said. “Think twice before you decline my proposition.”
“In your proposed agreement,” I replied, “you do not state clearly the consideration. I am an old lawyer, and a stickler for forms.”
There was no smile now on his face, as he said to me:
“If you will transfer your allegiance to us, I will bring this war to an end.”
“And could you?”
“I could.”
“How?”
“I have already stated how.”
“But the medicine you propose would be worse than the disease, even assuming, which I deny, that the patient would swallow it.”
“But would you not make the sacrifice, if I proved to you that I could make good my end of the bargain?”
“No.”
“Then surely you care little for the world!”
“You argue like a German propagandist,” I said.
“You mean that they argue like me,” he corrected.
“I have wondered,” I said, “in what school of logic they were trained.”
“And you refuse my proposition?”
“I wonder you should take the trouble to make it.”
“Why call that a trouble which gives me the pleasure of your society?”
“I have already heard,” I said, “that the devil was a great flatterer.”
“The devil has great tact.”
We stood looking at each other, measuring each other. He was an interesting study.
“Dropping for the moment,” I said, “our differences of purpose and ideal, and speaking merely as two minds--”
“Equal in brilliancy,” he interrupted.
“Speaking as two minds,” I continued, “will you not tell me why you played upon my love for the world, my willingness to sacrifice myself for the world, in your attempt to win me to your standard?”
“What else could I play upon?”
“Surely I must have some fault, some hidden sin, through which your subtle mind could have thought to reach me.”
“Oh,” he said, “I am too wise to tempt you through your hidden faults, for you are determined to conquer them! You could not be thrown off the track that way. Only those young on your path are easily conquered through their faults. The greater souls we attack through their virtues.”
“Continue,” I said, “for truly you interest me.”
“It is said in the world,” he went on, “that there is more than one way to skin a cat. There is also more than one way to get rid of a worker for the Teachers whom you follow. When we cannot deflect a worker through his evil passions, his hatred, anger, avarice, lust, jealousy or fear, we are sometimes able to weaken him through his good passions, his love, his loyalty, or his self-sacrifice.”
“Thank you for your confidence,” I said. “And now I will wish you good evening.”
As I passed along the line I murmured to myself:
“Truly is the serpent more subtle than any beast of the field, and man needs all his wisdom to stand against him.”
_May 1._
LETTER XXXVI
THE “LUSITANIA”
(_This letter was written on the 7th of May, at 10.30 A.M., New York time, one hour after the sinking of the Lusitania, and nine hours before the writer knew of it._)
AND still they press forward against us--the menacing powers of darkness and evil, seeking to vent their rage against the world and to glut themselves on the blood of the slain.
I have not been near you for a few days because I have had no time. Did you fancy that I had escaped time? Not yet. Had I escaped time, I could not speak thus to the world in the grip of time. Had I quite transcended space, your room could not hold me.
During the six days that you have not seen me I have been here, there and everywhere in Europe--even in Asia have I been, for the attack is world-wide.
A little while ago I told you that we had driven back the forces of evil. They have rallied and come forward again, not quite as strong, but more desperate and more frenzied.
They seek now to embroil the United States, and the whole continent of the old dead race that fed them on blood by magical rites ages ago, that continent where the new race has to be born when this prolonged labor is over.
Had I remembered the Law of Rhythm I should have known that the tide of evil would flow back again, and that we should have to struggle with it a second time. It may even now gather fresh force and renew the attack, a little weaker still.
The evil beings whom we have slain are slain, they can trouble us no more for a time; but the slain are few beside the many still active. Help us with your thoughts.
Many of our friends in the world have staggered and grown weary during the last few days. Do not you!
As thy day, so shall thy strength be, O World that we struggle for, and for which we shall win in the end the crown of peace and brotherhood!
As I have said before, the world is in the throes of an initiatory ceremony. The trial by water, the trial by air, the trial by fire--all these must the world go through before it can take its place among the initiates of the stellar hierarchies. There is no drawing back now, and the world must not fail. Should it fail there would soon be a vacant place in the circles of the Zodiac. But the world will not fail.
Again have I met with the evil being of whom I wrote at the beginning of these letters. He is lashing himself in fury now, drunk with the power of his place. Ere his hour draws near, he is hot to assert himself.
The climax is approaching, and if I visit you less often than before, it is because I cannot leave my place so often.
Never falter in courage. Your faith shall be the evidence of things still unseen--as it has been before.
This second struggle with the powers of darkness will leave us stronger and leave them weaker.
_I know many things which I cannot tell you_, for you are not strong enough to receive them; but remember this--the Law of Rhythm holds, it is the Law of laws, and after this storm will come a corresponding calm, after this agony a rest in the quiet of love. When hate has spent itself, then love can have its way.
Do you not hate, but stand steady, merely withstanding attacks. Do not waste your strength. It will be needed by and by. If we use you sometimes as a material base on which to plant our etheric feet for a greater spring into space, remember that you offered yourself for the service of the world, and the service has been accepted.
This is no time to talk of reward, but the law of justice is behind the world.
So far as possible, strengthen those who suffer too much, and we will strengthen you. The angels you saw last night are the bodyguard of the Masters’ servants. As thy day, so shall thy strength be.
I will give you a formula for use in time of stress and storm: Reach up to the indwelling Spirit and repeat, “For her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.”
It is only in contact with mind, with desire and with matter, that the Spirit struggles and suffers. In its own home all is peaceful and pleasant. Reach up to that home when the storms are too loud, and you will find a place of silence.
Do not let go your hold upon the body. You could no longer be used as a material base should you loosen your hold on the material, and those who come to live altogether in the astral world just now have a hard time at first.
Be calm and poised and sure. Be not a quicksand but a rock.
That is all for the present.
This little time of writing has rested me as well as you, and I will return.
_May 7._
LETTER XXXVII
VEILED PROPHECIES
IF you were less easily startled, less easily thrown out of the negative condition in which only you can take down my words, less easily thrown back by shock into your normal objective consciousness, I could have told you yesterday that the _Lusitania_ had gone down, instead of merely hinting at disaster.
You are quite right always to stop the writing the moment your own brain begins to work; but you can see that it limits us in the giving of definite news.
We were near that ship when it went down, several of us, including the one whom we call the Beautiful Being.
Hold steady now. That is the only advice I am offering you, save only to remain in America for the present. The good you could do in England now is outweighed by something else which you will understand before the middle of August.[4]
If you look up the letter in which I told you that a great Being of Thought had passed along the German line telling those who could understand that their cause was lost, you will see that I said to watch for the result. The result is this desperate and frenzied attack everywhere by that nation.
May 15th is a significant date.[5] No, I tell you no more than that.
The powers of good will not fail.
You will have disturbing news from Europe before long. Hold quiet through everything. We have done and are doing our best.
Thank you for what you have done for my friend and pupil. * * * Also there is another thing you can do for us. * * *
There is much that you do not understand, but that we understand. The road of initiation is a hard road for all. Love one another, you who try to tread it. It makes the way easier.
_May 8._
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 4: Extraordinarily verified on the fourteenth of August.--_Editor._]
[Footnote 5: Date of the reception by Germany of the United States note on the sinking of the _Lusitania_, and also of the demonstrations in Italy which precipitated the entry of that country into the war.--_Editor._]
LETTER XXXVIII
ADVICE TO A SCRIBE
YOU can be of more use to us if you do not allow yourself to be crushed by the sadness of the world at this crisis through which the world is passing.
Each day rise to the plane of the spirit, above the physical world, beyond the desires of the astral world, beyond the lower stratum of mind, up and up to the Source of all life and all wisdom.
Set apart some time every day for this exercise. Use the Hebrew formula which you have used before, and use it with power, in connection with the yoga practice in which you are versed. This combining of two systems makes for strength, because it avoids the limitation of too closely identifying the Self with one race or one period. Occult development, occult power, is of all times and all races. The knowledge of the new race about to be ushered in will include all the systems of the past, taking from each the special thing in which it surpasses the others.
Do not sink again into that slough of depression from which I called you this day. It is not necessary for you to die a thousand times in order to know death. It seems to me that you have gone deep enough into the woe of the world. Now rise to a corresponding height.
Your sympathy will be no less tender if you do not die of sympathy every day.
Your real work comes after the war, when the world can and will listen to the teaching of brotherhood. Do not perish beforehand is my advice, and the advice of my Teacher through me.
The Teachers are very grave in this crisis, but they are not crushed to earth. They know that after the storm comes the calm and their faith has survived.
In the awful depression in which you have been sunk for the last few days, how could you help anyone? It is not for you to ask help from others, but only from us. You know where we are. It is for you to revive the drooping spirits and the drooping faith of those who have not received the assurances which you have received.
This letter is not a reproof, but a lesson. I would not have you retire to a selfish peace above the tumult and stay there, forgetting the world. I do not forget the world. I work by day and by night. But what help could I be to these war-shocked souls that come out here should I weep when I encounter them? No help at all should I be. Instead, I seek to strengthen them with my strength, to encourage them with my hope.
I do not mean, when I say that your work begins after the war, that you can do nothing now. Far from it. You can do much, in both worlds. But if you die of the wounds you behold out here, if you are caught yourself in the whirlpool of despair, how can you draw others out of it?
I cannot repeat too often that this war is the world’s initiation. It will be a new and an enlightened world which will rise from the ashes of the old one--a phœnix of a world, and I want you to rise with it.
The agony cannot endure forever. It is too intense just now, which means that the climax is approaching.
When I told you that the issue was settled here, I did not mean that the war would end in a day or two. Study cause and effect. Study the rise and fall of everything according to cyclic law. The tidal wave must spend itself on the shore before it subsides again into the sea.
Be calm. Keep faith with those whose task it is to uphold the faith of mankind.
When you say that you want to suffer as long as the world suffers, you are speaking as our pupil, and we would not have it otherwise. But remember that one may be strong in suffering. We would not have you shirk the experience; but master and use the experience, instead of letting it master and use you.