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<center>EXTRACT FROM A MESSAGE GIVEN TO M. A. OXON.</center>

<center>EXTRACT FROM A MESSAGE GIVEN TO M. A. OXON.</center>

The Ancients were wise in their description of the spiritual enemies. A spirit has three foes—itself; the external world around it; and the spiritual foes that beset the upward path. These are described as the World, the Flesh and the Devil.

{{Style S-Small capitals|The}} Ancients were wise in their description of the spiritual enemies. A spirit has three foes—itself; the external world around it; and the spiritual foes that beset the upward path. These are described as the World, the Flesh and the Devil.

Begin with self—the Flesh. Conquer it, so that you are no longer slave to appetite, to passion, to ambition: so that self can be abnegated, and the spirit can come forth from its hermit-cell, and live, and breathe, and act in the free scope of the universal brotherhood. This is the first step. Self must be crucified: and from the grave where it lies buried will rise the enfranchised spirit untrammelled, free from material clogs.  

Begin with self—the Flesh. Conquer it, so that you are no longer slave to appetite, to passion, to ambition: so that self can be abnegated, and the spirit can come forth from its hermit-cell, and live, and breathe, and act in the free scope of the universal brotherhood. This is the first step. Self must be crucified: and from the grave where it lies buried will rise the enfranchised spirit untrammelled, free from material clogs.  

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{{Style P-Author|by Prof. S. S. Rothwell.}}

<center>{{Style S-Small capitals|by Prof. S. S. Rothwell.}}</center>

{{Style S-Small capitals|About}} thirty years ago I lived in a capital city of Germany. My occupation led me forth at 8 o’clock in the morning, and I did not return till one, my mind during the time being ''consciously ''actively employed. As soon as I reached my own door, and raised my hand to ring the bell, I saw all the persons who had called during my absence, and even the postman with the letters, pass before my mind’s eye as in a dissolving view, and always in the same order as that in which they had come. Many of those persons I saw afterwards, but several of them I never saw in my life, for they never called again, and yet to this day their faces, dress, &c., are quite clear in my imagination, and even their apparent ages; they were all between twenty and twenty-eight. Of the postman, I only saw the dark figure, his person was of no importance to me, but his hand and the number of letters, one, two, three, were quite distinct When this phenomenon occurred to me for the first or second time, I was quite astonished and could not account for it. Some days’ reflection, however, led me to a solution, which was sufficient for me at least Socrates says in one of his discourses, “The mind of every person has the power to foresee or foretell events: that is, a man thinks with interest of some event, which may or may not happen in the future, and the mind holds fast to that which will really happen.’’ For instance, there is a warm and angry dispute between two nations; will it lead to war? A great battle is expected; which side will win? A vessel sails from one port to another, as the Strathclyde from London to Bombay; will she arrive safe? From my own experience I would add that the mind must solve the question ''unconsciously, ''and that it must take a warm interest in the event. I have no doubt that during my absence from home from eight to one o’clock, the mind, unknown to me, was occupied with the thought as to whether any person or persons might have called, and also respecting the postman and the letters, and had formed its conclusion the moment I was about to ring, and hence the apparent vision:

{{Style S-Small capitals|About}} thirty years ago I lived in a capital city of Germany. My occupation led me forth at 8 o’clock in the morning, and I did not return till one, my mind during the time being ''consciously ''actively employed. As soon as I reached my own door, and raised my hand to ring the bell, I saw all the persons who had called during my absence, and even the postman with the letters, pass before my mind’s eye as in a dissolving view, and always in the same order as that in which they had come. Many of those persons I saw afterwards, but several of them I never saw in my life, for they never called again, and yet to this day their faces, dress, &c., are quite clear in my imagination, and even their apparent ages; they were all between twenty and twenty-eight. Of the postman, I only saw the dark figure, his person was of no importance to me, but his hand and the number of letters, one, two, three, were quite distinct When this phenomenon occurred to me for the first or second time, I was quite astonished and could not account for it. Some days’ reflection, however, led me to a solution, which was sufficient for me at least Socrates says in one of his discourses, “The mind of every person has the power to foresee or foretell events: that is, a man thinks with interest of some event, which may or may not happen in the future, and the mind holds fast to that which will really happen.’’ For instance, there is a warm and angry dispute between two nations; will it lead to war? A great battle is expected; which side will win? A vessel sails from one port to another, as the Strathclyde from London to Bombay; will she arrive safe? From my own experience I would add that the mind must solve the question ''unconsciously, ''and that it must take a warm interest in the event. I have no doubt that during my absence from home from eight to one o’clock, the mind, unknown to me, was occupied with the thought as to whether any person or persons might have called, and also respecting the postman and the letters, and had formed its conclusion the moment I was about to ring, and hence the apparent vision:

In the winter of 1847, two noble Polish families took up their residence in the town in which I then lived. With these families I soon became intimately acquainted, and in one of them I took great interest. They were a young couple. Count B — was twenty-one years of age, the Countess eighteen. The latter was more amiable than beautiful, and her inexperience, candor, and innocence, not frittered away in a stream of gay society, endowed her with a charm which beauty caunot bestow. One day her cousin, Count Y—, called to pay me a visit, and after the usual compliments, and remarks about the weather, the general introduction to many conversations, he asked whether I had heard what had happened to his cousin? I replied that I had not, and hoped that it was nothing disagreeable. He then informed me that all his money had been stolen, and that the circumstance was so much the more unfortunate as there was no possibility of getting money for some time, as their part of Poland was in a state of revolution. I expressed my regret and inquired how much the sum was. He answered 1,500 florins. The conversation then turned on politics, for the Poles are all great politicians when they know they may speak their opinions without being denounced. At length Count Y— rose to depart On which I asked him whether he should see his cousin that evening. He replied “Certainly” “Well, then, give him my compliments, and tell him not to be uneasy about his money, as he will get it all again with the exception of 100 florins, but that is lost” He regarded me with astonishment, and asked me how I knew that. I replied I could not explain to him now, but I knew it, and knew also that the 100 florins would never be found, of that there was no doubt.

In the winter of 1847, two noble Polish families took up their residence in the town in which I then lived. With these families I soon became intimately acquainted, and in one of them I took great interest. They were a young couple. Count B — was twenty-one years of age, the Countess eighteen. The latter was more amiable than beautiful, and her inexperience, candor, and innocence, not frittered away in a stream of gay society, endowed her with a charm which beauty caunot bestow. One day her cousin, Count Y—, called to pay me a visit, and after the usual compliments, and remarks about the weather, the general introduction to many conversations, he asked whether I had heard what had happened to his cousin? I replied that I had not, and hoped that it was nothing disagreeable. He then informed me that all his money had been stolen, and that the circumstance was so much the more unfortunate as there was no possibility of getting money for some time, as their part of Poland was in a state of revolution. I expressed my regret and inquired how much the sum was. He answered 1,500 florins. The conversation then turned on politics, for the Poles are all great politicians when they know they may speak their opinions without being denounced. At length Count Y— rose to depart On which I asked him whether he should see his cousin that evening. He replied “Certainly” “Well, then, give him my compliments, and tell him not to be uneasy about his money, as he will get it all again with the exception of 100 florins, but that is lost” He regarded me with astonishment, and asked me how I knew that. I replied I could not explain to him now, but I knew it, and knew also that the 100 florins would never be found, of that there was no doubt.

A few days afterward I paid a visit to Connt B — He was not at home, but the young countess complained to me of their serious loss at such a time. I asked whether her

A few days afterward I paid a visit to Connt B — He was not at home, but the young countess complained to me of their serious loss at such a time. I asked whether her {{Style S-HPB SB. Continues on|1-135}}

 

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