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Last Letters From The Living Dead Man, by Elsa Barker

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Ahura Mazda
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« on: January 13, 2008, 12:20:47 am »

LETTER XIX
THE FEDERATION OF NATIONS

August 9, 1917.
The time has come now for America to get out into the world and take her place in the federation of nations. Let her unite with England in a strong bond, and thereby she can keep the peace of the world.
The isolation of America in the past has been in line with her destiny; it was necessary for her to develop to her present state of power without interruptions, or the influence of international complications upon her statesmen. Free and alone, she has not had to become a part of the great and creaking machine of international diplomacy and intrigue. But now she is independent, and, politically speaking, her character is formed. You may say that America has attained her majority, and is entitled to vote in the councils and elections of the world.
She has much to do for both France and England, as they have both done so much for her in the past. They have formed her culture and influenced her spirit; now she will influence their spirit.
When you read the other day of the work which our soldiers are doing in France, helping in many little ways in the villages and on the farms, your heart glowed with pleasure; you remembered what I said to you before America came into the war, that our men were to go to France and to work, work, work for the upbuilding of France.
That is only the beginning. More and more will our men work over there, during and after war.
Soon there will come a call for a new kind of work—new for us.
There is deep meaning in this bringing together of the nations for a common cause. From that, there is only a step to the bringing together of all nations for one cause.
The force of revolt in the world must spend itself, as the force of race hatred has spent itself—for it is already spent. The continuation of the war will be practically without the rage of the beginning. We go on because it is our job, and even in New York now there is no longer the fierceness of two years ago. And in England it has lessened, and in France it is lessened, and in Germany it is lessened. War has now become a task like any other, to be gone through with. When it no longer seems worth while, it will stop.
The question of America’s part in the federation of states interests me now.

LETTER XX
THE NEW IDEAL

August 19, 1917.
Since Germany evolved her idea of flamboyant nationalism and tried to foist it upon the world in imperial fashion, the world has grown skeptical of the national fetish. It will believe in the good intentions of no nation or race that flaunts its perfections in the face of friend or enemy.
America, as she grows more and more sure of her high destiny, must also grow more modest. She must realize herself as one of the sister states in the great commonwealth of nations, and the eagle will take lessons in voice culture. As a quiet voice can make itself heard in a medley of noises where a screaming voice would be inaudible, so must America’s voice become deep and quiet.
She is paying for her place in the councils of the world. Let her voice be heard by reason of its dignified and restrained accents.
A great change is taking place in Europe, in its conception of the American character. Hitherto France has known the American tourist, and the uprooted American who lived there in preference to his own country. Now France is learning something about the American man in his workaday, playaday, fighting and loving, living and dying sublimity. She has rubbed her eyes as she watched him, wondering if she were awake. She has recognized a new type. She does not understand it yet, but she wants to understand it. There is a new and disturbing warmth now at the heart of France for this new brother from across the seas. She sees (for she is subtle) the crudity of him as measured by her more artificial standards. But she sees also the grandeur and chivalry of him, as compared with her old idea of the foreigner.
Ah, America and Americans! You are on trial now in the courts of the world’s judgment as you have never been before. My heart is aglow as I see our boys go out into the larger world, carrying with them the clear outdoor spirit of the American plains and woodlands. When I see the eyes of the sublime and pain-chastened French grow deep and warm as they rest upon our boys, I am so proud of them! I forget that I am also uprooted, having left the land of my birth for the regions beyond death.
In the councils at the ending of the war and after the war, may the modesty of greatness restrain America from any suggestion to France or England that she saved them from destruction. I clasp my hands—to you they would be shadowy hands—together with excess of emotion, as I pray for the guidance of America in the councils that are to come.
Modesty—let that be the watchword.
The soul of France is aflame with gratitude, the soul of France is aflame with love. The hearts of the French people in the night grow warm and their eyes grow wet as they whisper to themselves, “Les Américains! Les Américains!”
Oh, be mindful of the love you have won!
I would die all over again a thousand times rather than see my Americans disappoint their French brethren in this crisis of the world’s life.
You wonder why I say nothing of England? Ah! England knows you already. England has known you long. You cannot surprise England. She knows you as the mother knows her son or daughter; but to the French you are a mystery, a mystery that has come to help, an angel in a khaki shirt and a slouch hat and a strange voice.
Don’t you understand?
She prays for you. She would pray to you if she were not so shy in her love. There is a new strange wonder in her eyes, and a sweet thrill all over her.
Oh, exalt the brotherhood of nations—that never before realized ideal!
You cannot take away from a boy who has grown up in a free world the deep-rooted idea that America is and ever must be free. In years gone by the sons of this soil have died for freedom, freedom for themselves, freedom for the black man. Now they fight and die for the freedom of the world.
Do you know what it means to be free? Only the self-restrained man is free, for lawlessness is not freedom. Lawlessness is always in leash to passions tyrannical.
In the new America that I see just over the edge of the horizon (for my eye reaches farther than yours), there will be room for the fullest development of the individual idea, while the idea of social responsibility will make it stable. Hitherto individuality has run rampant. Witness the hoarding of food by a few, while many go without. Watch the clash and struggle of each interest to take some advantage for itself out of this tragic opportunity.
Before the war is ended the hearts of men must work in harness with their minds. The old generation is dying off, the generation whose initiation girdled the continent with railroads, spurred by the hope of personal gain. The new men who will follow the old “captains of industry” will glimpse a new ideal.
I am told by one who knows more than I that the men who have made industrial America, by their foresight and initiative, were guided and inspired by Beings who used them and their ambitions for world purposes beyond their comprehension.

LETTER XXI
A RAMBLING TALK

November 15, 1917.
I am not in a literary mood to-night, so I may talk in a rambling way.
I wonder if you know the seriousness of the enterprise which America has undertaken. You think you do. But before the matter is all threshed out at the end you may have surprises in store.
Do not worry about your things in London. London is large, and a good many bombs can fall without destroying any great portion of it.
Yes, I say emphatically again what I said some two years and a half ago, that there will be internal troubles in Germany—and in other places, too. The world is going to be made over. Do not be afraid. The making over of the world will not hurt you.
Humanity is so afraid of change! The race has gone through many changes—some of them in prehistoric times—more dramatic than the present change. Humanity has a long history, and little of it is recorded in books that you can read.
Yes, the world will be united, and the world will be cut up. That sounds like a paradox, perhaps.
As I am resting to-night, I may take the liberty of being disconnected. You ought always to live in a quiet place like this, a little remote from the centre of things. You do not belong in the bustle and crowd downtown, either in New York or any other large city. All those who have developed their inner senses should live a little apart. That does not mean that they should all become hermits; but they should live in the outskirts. When you feel a desire for the crowd you can go down into it.
Tell ——— not to worry because this book is going slowly. You are not working against time. The world will go on, and you will go with it. Make no mistake about that. The world is going very fast. All these new “Psychic” books are an evidence that the world is going fast. A few years ago no publisher would have issued them.
I do not wonder that your head swims a little.
You have been impressed by “losing” so many personal friends since the war began, friends whose deaths seemed unconnected with the war. But they are of those who could not adjust to the new world that is coming. Their Silent Watchers are taking them out. You each have a Silent Watcher, a something, a part of you that is above and beyond you, yet which is the most real of all the parts of you.
The Watchers of the universe are watching more intently than usual. Your own is watching you as well as the world. It will give you notice when any important action is necessary.
It seems as if the world had adjusted itself to the idea that the dead may speak with the living. But that is only the beginning of knowledge.
When the worst of the war is over, and men begin to adapt themselves to peace, they will try to know themselves. And they will discover that their bodies and souls are only parts of them, that they exist on as many planes of being as there are planes of matter and of subtler substance, and that each of these selves is as real as the personality they see in the mirror. They will learn to form links between them, to build bridges of communication. Finally they will become consciously complete beings.
Joy is coming back to the world some day, such joy as the world has never known. You will one day be glad to be alive again, and I mean all of you.
Do not fret because you have to remain in America. At the moment America is a good place in which to be. The world is opening its eyes at the efficiency of America. She is setting an example that her friends will be ashamed not to follow. Some day she will set the highest example of all.

LETTER XXII
THE LEVER OF WORLD UNITY

November 19, 1917.
Do you not see that the unifying influence of America is already being felt in the war? Do you not see how America, through the President of the United States, is drawing the Allies together? That is her destiny, to assemble all nations in a brotherhood of democratic freedom and mutual helpfulness. This demand of President Wilson for a council, for unified action in prosecuting the war, is one of the most significant events in history. For the first time a group of friendly nations may really work as one, putting aside all personal jealousies and fears—for a great world end.
It is the lever of world unity which shall lift the burden of wastefulness that heretofore has cost the world half the fruits of its labor.
Oh, nations of Europe, do not fear the great free land across the waters! She wants nothing of you, save now the privilege of helping you to save yourselves, and in the future to work with you for the ideals that will make you all strong.
The Anglo-Saxon race must again be like one family, though in two houses; but bye and bye, when America shall have amalgamated her foreign residents with herself in one indissoluble race, she will still be your sister, O Britain! and you two shall counsel together for the further enlightening of the world.
Sometimes I go high in the etheric regions and look down upon the earth, so high that the horizons bound one hemisphere after another. The horizons of time are also thus expanded, and I see ahead of and behind the present hour. I see the causes that have brought the world to its present impasse. You will have to remove the wall that separates you from the age of enlightened brotherhood.
You have read about the golden age of the past. Did you think it was a fanciful story, to amuse children in the firelight? I tell you it will sometime be realized again, and on this earth—now rent by hatred and war.
You must retain all you have won from the mines of the earth and from the activity of your own brains. Inventions and arts, they will all have their place in the new age that is coming, and hitherto unimagined art and science will add further to the glory and comfort of life. It will be the fault of your own folly and blindness if you lose anything of value to the soul. The soul needs matter as matter needs the soul. Because we look forward to an age without hatred and wasteful division, we do not look forward to an age of idleness and inertia. Limitless will be the opportunities for genius, for talent, for ambition.
The greatest aristocracy of earth is the aristocracy of mind and soul, and mind and soul will be cultivated. The education of the future will be not only practical but humanistic; nothing will be thrown away that makes for beauty or for thought. The treasures of dead languages will not be thrown into the dustbin. After the labor necessary to provide for the material wants of the world, time will be left for art and beauty and scholarship, for social discussion and religious exaltation. The mystic also will have his place.
Three years ago I would not have dared to prophesy a happy outcome for this tragic fracas. More than two years ago I told you that the battle had been won in the regions above the earth—won by the powers of good, who labor for the welfare of mankind. How can you doubt? If the war had ended two years ago, the world might have gone on more or less as it went before. But now it can never go back to the old selfish ways. In the need that will follow the war the races will help one another; they will turn to one another as brothers and sisters turn.
Never lose faith that out of this tragedy will come the guerdon of the world’s desire. I see it, I live for it (for I live more vitally than you); and that you may see and live for it also I struggle against the lightness of my present body, that has a tendency to carry me away from the dense regions where you suffer and pray, you men of earth.
You who have followed me from those early days when I wrote you letters from the lower astral world, describing as a traveler in a strange country the things I had seen; you who followed me through the hells of astral turmoil during the early months of the war, follow me yet a little further. I will show you the way as it has been shown to me. And you will walk in that way, though stumbling at first and groping for the thread of purpose through the labyrinth of reconstruction, in the days that shall be called days of peace. For perfect peace will not come at once. You will have to work for it, as you have worked for triumph in war. But if you have faith, you will ride the stormy waters into the haven of a new earth. And a new heaven will spread above the earth, for heaven is largely peopled from below; it recruits its population from below. No new angels are being created now. The outgoing Breath rests, and the indrawing Breath is about to begin. You who have practised “yogi breathing” know how difficult it is to hold the breath out for more than a short time. It can only be done by force of will. The tendency is to return, as the tendency in the race is to return towards the Source from which it came. It is therefore I say that you cannot retard, save for a little while, the flow of the race-breath towards harmony and peace and love.
The struggle of men with each other in the selfishness of separation is like the struggle of the yogi not to inbreathe—the young and inexperienced yogi; for the wise one breathes at stated intervals, and knows when the period is full.
The race knows. It will follow the law of the outflow and inflow. You cannot prevent it. So yield yourselves to the current that would carry you back to God.
It will not be a hurried journey, for the inflowing breath is measured too. There will be time for labor and for rest, and to gather flowers by the way.
Do you fear the return to God, however slow it may be? I who have tasted death know there is nothing to fear; and I who have tasted the new life tell you there is everything to hope.
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