Read War Letters from the Living Dead Man Online

Authors: Elsa Barker

Tags: #Death, #Spirits, #Arthur Conan Doyle, #Automatic writing, #Psychic, #Letters from Julia, #Lucid Dreams, #Letters from a living dead man, #Spiritism, #Karmic law, #Life after death, #Summerland, #Remote viewing, #Medium, #Trance Medium, #spheres, #Survival, #God, #Afterlife, #Channeling, #Last letters from the living dead man, #Telepathy, #Clairvoyant, #Astral Plane, #Scepcop, #Theosophy, #Materialism, #Spiritualism, #Heaven, #Inspired writing, #Great White Brotherhood, #D D Home, #Spiritualist, #Unseen world, #Blavatsky, #Judge David Patterson Hatch, #Consciousness, #Reincarnation, #Victor Zammit, #Paranormal, #Jesus, #Akashic Records, #Incidents in my life, #Hell, #Ghosts, #Swedenborg

War Letters from the Living Dead Man (16 page)

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 you truly 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 36

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 worldwide.

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 37

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.

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. 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.

Letter 38 

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. The 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 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. In regard to America, did I not tell you some time ago that there was “an American on guard tonight,” old Abraham Lincoln, who renounced heaven that he might watch over and guard the land he died for? Rest in confidence on that assurance.

The other countries that you love are watched over also. And another country which you do not love is watched over, lest it wander so far that it cannot find its way back into the fold of human brotherhood. There are souls in that country who are keenly aware that she has gone as far as she safely may without becoming an outlaw among the nations. There are even Germans in America who know it. If I named a few of them, you might be surprised. It is well that Germans in America should feel the American repudiation of this latest piracy on the high seas. Let them feel it to the quick. They can learn in no other way. Do you fancy that in writing through your hand this book to be published after the war, I am impressing my thought only upon you? I am impressing others besides you.

A few days after I wrote you that Abraham Lincoln was on guard, a newspaper cartoonist published a drawing of the ghost of the great Lincoln standing behind President Wilson. Did you think it was a mere coincidence? It was not a mere coincidence. I impress my thought, and the thought of the Masters behind me, on other minds than yours. I am a worker in the astral world. To impress the minds of men is one of the duties assigned me. I go here and there where I am needed; but I have not written anywhere else as I have written through you. I have tried to, but with very indifferent success. An accurate amanuensis between the worlds is rare. They have to be trained to distinguish between the thoughts of the dictator and the thoughts of their own minds, objective and subjective, also between these and the thoughts of irresponsible entities who like to have a finger in the earthly pie. You wonder why I do not tell you more stories? I will tell you a story on my next visit. 

May 11

Letter 39

One of These Little Ones

The story I have to tell you is a sad one, but we are writing of war. It was three days after the
Lusitania
went down. Leaving the plains and hills of war-harried France, I had come out across the waters to serve where service was most needed at the moment. Drawing near to the scene of the disaster, I met a child-soul who wandered up and down looking for something which it could not find—a girl child of maybe a dozen years, with troubled and bewildered eyes. “Can I help you?” I asked, taking her by the hand, so that she ceased her restless moving to and fro and paused with me. “I have lost my mother,” she said. “Where is my mother?” “I do not know,” I answered, “but we will look for her.”

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