HPB-SB-10-435

H. P. Blavatsky Scrapbooks

from Adyar archives of the International Theosophical Society

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vol. 10, p. 435	volume 10, page 435 vol. title: vol. period: 1879-1880 pages in vol.: 577
Legend HPB note HPB highlighted HPB underlined HPB crossed out <Editors note> <Archivist note> Lost or unclear SBT, DT Restored

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eng • рус

< "Spirit" Pranks into Caucasus (continued from page 10-434) >

was admitted into her room. She saw a good-looking, gentlemanly Saxon, who in order, he remarked, that she might not suspect his good faith, showed her his passports. He then proceeded to tell her that he was a “medium,” who had come to Europe on business, concerning an inheritance, which business had led him to visit one of the Berlin burial-grounds. It was there that he had made her late husband’s acquaintance. He, the dead man, had asked him to visit his widow, and beg her not to be so despondent and miserable, as her grief was the only impediment to his bliss; he felt far better and happier now, than he had ever felt before, being delivered of his frail body which had caused him so much suffering. The Countess stared at the medium, and felt firmly convinced that she had to deal with a luuatic. But the American, determined to convince her, set to describing the deceased Count’s appearance to the minutest details, even to the dress he had been buried in; and then she believed. Besides that, he informed her that her husband wanted her to know that certain documents which she would very soon need in a forthcoming law-suit for his inheritance, had been concealed by him in the house upon one of their estates. They were hidden in a certain desk in a certain room and in a peculiar-looking note-book. The information proved perfectly correct, and became in time of the greatest importance to the Countess, as the law-suit took place as prophesied, and she easily won it. These are the facts.

Tiflis, Russian Caucasus.

Changeless

You had wronged me cruelly, darling, You had been unkind, untrue; And I rose in the night of my anger And talked with my heart of you. Less than the winds of summer, Less than the sands of the sea, Less than the leaves of autumn, I said, you are now to me. But I saw your face for a moment To-day on the crowded street, And the might of my anger vanished, Like a puff-ball at your feet. More than the glories of summer, More than the sands of the sea, More than the harvests of autumn, You are all the world to me. Love is not love if it vanish When a cruel deed is done; Love bears all pain, all sorrow, And yet goes loving on. Better a blow from my darling, Better his frown I see, Than a kiss from any other, Or the world to smile to me. Better one touch of his fingers Than the whole of another’s hand; Better his coldest accents Than another’s voice most bland. It is thus I love you, my darling, And nothing is love but this; For bliss without thee is sorrow, And sorrow through thee is bliss!

Emma Lee.

Boston (U. S.) Transcript.

<Untitled> (Error involves loss...)

Error involves loss, but not punishment. The retribution laid upon the transgressor consists in his being made to see the result of his sins, and to remedy it in all its infinitely ramifying consequences, as far as that is possible.

The heaven of the spirit is a heaven of ceaseless progress through the ages, higher and yet higher, reaching onward and upward to perfection. “Nearer, my God, to thee” is the motto which is inscribed upon it.

The consciousness of duty done, of progress made, and of capacity for progress developed, of spiritual graces nurtured, of truer insight gained and wider fields of knowledge opened out—this is the spirit’s reward in the past, its earnest of further progress in the future.

The future life, differing from the present one only in degree, and, in the states immediately succeeding this, only in a very slight degree, is a life of continued progress, in which the sin-stained spirit will be compelled to remedy in sorrow and shame the acts of conscious transgression done in the body.

Helps man has, if he will avail himself of them; but not a store of merit laid up for him on which he may draw at will, and by virtue of which he may reverse on his death-bed a character which has been the imperceptible growth of a life-time, the laborious aggregation of myriads of daily acts. For these acts man’s absolute accountability is emphatically maintained.

The Stage:—In the drama the highest thought in every age has found expression. While throne and altar forged and fastened chains, the poor slaves heard upon the stage the actor curse the injustice of the world, and wept with joy to see, even in a play, the captive free. In all the other walks of life, rogues, hypocrites and cowards oft succeed, but on the stage applause greets only those who represent the great, the loving, brave and true, or give to public scorn the very heart of vice.—Ingersoll.

Answer to correspondents

J. R.—We wish, on our return to London, to inquire into the historical accuracy of the narrative.

Vice President.—Your letter is actionable at law, however justifiable it may be. You have not taken the public responsibility of your utterances by appending your name and address thereunto.

Recently we have received beyond the average of carelessly written communications, both of a private and public nature; the former without the addresses of the writers (who were otherwise known to us), the latter bearing internal evidence that the authors had not taken the trouble to read them through, to correct their own mistakes. We do not laugh upon the public the efforts of those who think readers can be treated so disrespectfully.

Editor's notes

Sources

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  London Spiritualist, No. 420, September 10, 1880, p. 31