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e-book: Afterlife


 

War Letters From The Living Dead Man


Introduction

LETTER

 I.

The Return of "X"
II. A Dweller on the Threshold
III. An Assurance
IV. The Way of Understanding
V. Astral Monsters
VI. The Archduke
VII. The "Chosen People"
VIII. Spectres of the Congo
IX. Unseen Guardians
X. One Day as a Thousand Years
XI. Many Tongues
XII. The Beautiful Being
XIII. The Body of Humanity
XIV. The Foeman Within
XV. Listening in Brussels
XVI. The Sixth Race
XVII. An American on Guard
XVIII. A Master of Compassion
XIX. The Rose-Veiled Stranger
XX. Above the Battlefields
XXI. A Soul in Purgatory
XXII. Peace Propaganda
XXIII. The Mystery of Desire
XXIV. The Scales of Justice
XXV. For Love's Sake
XXVI. A Master of Mind
XXVII. Invisible Enemies
XXVIII. The Glory of War
XXIX. A Friend of "X"
XXX. The Rose and the Cross
XXXI. A Serbian Magician
XXXII. Judas and Typhon
XXXIII. Crowns of Straw
XXXIV. The Sylph and the Father
XXXV. Behind the Dark Veil
XXXVI. The "Lusitania"
XXXVII. Veiled Prophecies
XXXVIII. Advice to a Scribe
XXXIX. One of These Little Ones
XL. The Height and the Depth
XLI. A Conclave of Masters
XLII. A Lesson in the Kabala
XLIII. The Second Coming
XLIV. Poison Gases
XLV. The Superman
XLVI. The Entering Wedge
XLVII. The New Brotherhood
XLVIII. In the Crucible
XLIX. Black Magic in America
L. Things to Remember


 

 

 

LETTER XXXII

JUDAS AND TYPHON

            I have spoken of the crucifixion through which the soul of the race is passing. Now I want to speak of the Judas who betrayed that race for thirty pieces of silver.
            Reader of this book, whether you are a Jew, a Christian, a Hindoo or a Mahometan, if you know anything at all about the initiatory process of the soul, you must know that the gospel drama––be it historical or legendary, whichever way you choose to take it––is a faithful dramatization of the process of initiation.
            And in that process the betrayal of Judas is an inevitable part. Without it, the cup of bitterness would not be full, and the cup of bitterness must be full for the soul of the race, the soul of the individual, the soul of the Christ.
            “My Father, why hast Thou forsaken me?” has been on the lips of many a mangled soldier on this awful Calvary of the race.

            The heavy cross has been bourne all through the toilsome months of the journey from Autumn to Spring, and now in the April time the race has been nailed to the cross for the agony. The crown of thorns is on the bleeding brows, the nails have pierced the hands and feet, the cup of vinegar has been offered, and now on a million lips is the cry, “Eloi, Eloi, lama Sabachthani!”
            The betrayal of Judas was inevitable, as the deed of Typhon was inevitable. Had it not been for Judas, the story would not be complete. Had it not been for the act of Typhon in slaying Osiris, Horus the Son could not have arisen.
            And yet in the face of this I stand here––safe behind the veil of the invisible, as some objectors will say––and advise the world to soften the awful punishment of Judas, so far as lies in its power. For did not that One himself say upon the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do”?
           
Nothing in the Sermon on the Mount, nothing in the sacred records of the East, nothing in the archives of the whole world can compare with those ten words for grandeur and spiritual significance: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!”
            They who now sin against the race, indeed know not what they do. They are drunk with the rage of destruction, maddened by the subconscious of their own guilt; but what they do they cannot know. Only the initiate souls among the Germans even vaguely know what Germany has done.
            And yet I say, forgive and pity them; for their office is a terrible one, and their suffering will be great.
            Fear not, when your blood relations are slain by thousands, and when you feel yourself also slain by spiritual participation, the good must triumph in the end, because the race is on its upward journey. Its blood is not spilled in vain.
            Did the human race not know, when it gave the sop to Germany in the last conclave, that it was Germany who would betray it? The race knew.
            And in that awful July the subconscious selves of men knew in their sleep that the terrible trial was at hand. Do you remember? In many a sensitive soul that drama was pre-enacted, before it was enacted on this Calvary of the nations.

            That Germany would betray the world was written in the soul of Germany; but if the world should hate her with a continuing hate for that betrayal, it would be a sore in the heart of the human race which would ache for a thousand years. “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”
            To admit the necessity of evil in the cosmic scheme is not to condone evil. To forgive the sinner is not to minimize the sin. It is because of the inability of the undeveloped mind to grasp the awful law of the balance of forces that the Guardians of the sacred knowledge have been so reticent in their public utterances.
            “It must needs be that offenses come; but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh,” has been repeated in thousands of churches; but the latter half of the sentence has been understood far better than the first half, “It must needs be that offenses come.”
            Being what she is, Germany could not help betraying the race to this crucifixion. It was written that the human race would be betrayed, and no nation could have done it but Germany.

            Typhon was obliged to slay Osiris, by the very law of his being. And now Isis, the great Mother, the Womanhood of the world, wanders wailing up and down seeking for the fragments of the body of her husband.
            On the battle line for a thousand miles those fragments are scattered. Isis is indeed widowed.
            And as man is the type of the great Archetype, so one man stands this day as the type of the Betrayer, and that man is Wilhelm of Germany.
            The disease which long has eaten at his brain, a contributory cause of his ego-mania, was the vulnerable spot, the spot unguarded between the lamps of the magic circle of Europe, where the evil forces found entrance. Verily, it shall be woe to him by whom this offense has come!
            And in saying that the world must not hate the nation which Evil has used as its servant, I am not advising sentimental weakness in the final closing of this account. The world for its own protection must make it impossible that Germany should ever repeat this betrayal. The details I leave to the specialists, being a modest ghost, and speaking from my safe retreat behind the veil of the invisible.

April 27.

Letter XXXIII

LETTER XXXI