Difference between revisions of "HPB-SB-3-133"

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{{Style P-HPB SB. Title continued |Ancient Theosophy|3-132}}
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{{Style P-HPB SB. Title continued |Ancient Theosophy; or Spiritism in the Past|3-131}}
  
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{{Style P-No indent|reveal to us the hideous spectacles of hypocrisy ana fraud. Say what you will, the stringent times under which we now suffer do not so much present questions of crops, commerce, or currency, but are simply declarative of a degraded business sentiment. Confidence is extirpated. Truth is sneered at as an ‘old wives’ fable.’ The shrewdest overreaching which makes money and escapes the penitentiary is applauded to the echo. In the name of our boasted civilization, 1 demand that check and pause be given to this moral madness.}}
  
{{Style S-HPB SB. Continues on |3-134}}
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Look at the wretched existence of the New York banker in his office day after day, and then his artificial pleasure in his Fifth Avenue mansion, with ruin hanging over his own head and over the thousands who have trusted in the Moloch of the Wall Street Palace, and I would ask is this life to be compared with the Arab of the Soudan in his glorious freedom to roam where he will, and in communion with bis friends of the starry firmament, who never lie or steal. The one is the creature of the scientific, the other the man of the metaphysical age.

Revision as of 01:15, 26 September 2023

vol. 3, p. 133
from Adyar archives of the International Theosophical Society
vol. 3 (1875-1878)
 

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< Ancient Theosophy; or Spiritism in the Past (continued from page 3-131) >

reveal to us the hideous spectacles of hypocrisy ana fraud. Say what you will, the stringent times under which we now suffer do not so much present questions of crops, commerce, or currency, but are simply declarative of a degraded business sentiment. Confidence is extirpated. Truth is sneered at as an ‘old wives’ fable.’ The shrewdest overreaching which makes money and escapes the penitentiary is applauded to the echo. In the name of our boasted civilization, 1 demand that check and pause be given to this moral madness.

Look at the wretched existence of the New York banker in his office day after day, and then his artificial pleasure in his Fifth Avenue mansion, with ruin hanging over his own head and over the thousands who have trusted in the Moloch of the Wall Street Palace, and I would ask is this life to be compared with the Arab of the Soudan in his glorious freedom to roam where he will, and in communion with bis friends of the starry firmament, who never lie or steal. The one is the creature of the scientific, the other the man of the metaphysical age.