by LYNN RUSSELL

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WE had picked the first roses from our respective gardens when we went again to Leslie’s

accompanied by Gwen; these flowers he placed on a small table in the centre of the circle,

and among our golden ones there was a dark red rose from Stanley’s garden. Within a few

minutes Mickey was leading us in song. His voice assumed deafening proportions and then

as suddenly it faded away into a whisper, and the singing stopped. It was as if we had taken

part in a volume test but no explanation was given, and since Mickey had been very close to

me in the darkness as he whispered the last notes, I put out my hands, but felt nothing. Then

he laughed and struck two notes on the piano at my side; there was now a rustling sound

and something was placed in my lap; it was one of the roses. Another was tossed across to

Jean and there were roses for both the children and Gwen, and although Mickey was

thoroughly enjoying himself Leslie certainly was not! He dislikes any form of physical

phenomena other than “the voice” and he cautioned Mickey not to touch him.

Mickey was gaily teasing Gwen about her North-country accent when Sister Teresa’s voice

broke in. “I am so pleased to speak to you all. There is such a happy atmosphere here

tonight and Mickey has been having fun, oui? The roses are beautiful! You say they are from

your gardens? Oh, there are so many here to speak with you! Many whom you do not know

at all. They are attracted here by the light that is given out as you sit in circle, but I know that

you are waiting to speak to Rodolfo! Oui?” She held our attention for a while and then a

man’s voice interrupted. He spoke with a broad Scottish accent. “Hello there!

Thought you’d like to know I’m around. This is Jock. . . .“

“Jock, did you say?” I queried.

“Aye,” he replied, but we all remained silent and then burst into laughter as we realised one

of two things; either he had forgotten he always came to us as “David” on that vibrational

level or he meant he was a “Jock,” but he did not seem inclined to satisfy us and said rather

tersely, “Och! I know you’re waiting for one—certain—person! Well, we’ll see.” And he was

gone. Rose was our next visitor and she chatted for a time and although she said she wished

she could stay longer, because she knew we wanted to speak to Rodolfo, she would not take

up too much time. At which point Rudy started to speak.

“So, you are waiting to speak to me, eh? Of course you know I’m always happy to come and

talk to you, but there are others! I want so much for you to realise that I am only a

mouthpiece for much Greater Beings. It’s true that I have had quite a lot of experience, and I

have a certain amount of knowledge, but in comparison . . . I am just a bambino! I have been

Here such a short time. I feel very humble when I think of myself as an instrument for this

great purpose.

“I do not want you to idolise me, or concentrate on me too much.” he said appealingly.

“Remember. I am a normal human being called into Service, and I find great happiness in

working with you in this fashion. I want to repay all the love that has been bestowed on me,

through which I have progressed. Even in my most unhappy moments during my Earth life I

found great comfort in the love given to me by . . . thousands,” he said almost apologetically.

“I am so grateful for your love and your remembrance throughout the years and I long to help

you, in this, your time of trial on Earth.

“I should not like to be on Earth at this period, and yet I cannot leave it when I see so much

suffering, so much that has to be done and will be done through us. Of this I feel sure. We

are most concerned about the Earth world—I do not want to depress you, yet we must face

up to the reality that it is in great danger, There are experiments of which you know nothing,

because no mention of them is made in your newspapers or over your radios, but they are of

such nature as to cause us consternation. It would require only two mistakes to throw the

world out of orbit! If they continue, the prophecy in the Bible could come to pass and the

whole world would be thrown into chaos. Sometimes we feel as if we could gather you up

and carry you away from it all! But as that is impossible, we must break through to you, and

perhaps we can do something to bring awareness of the dangers that Mankind has to face. I

feel sure that God will not allow Man to destroy himself, or this beautiful world—and it is

beautiful, you know.

“People laugh at those who hold protest meetings and organise marches to make known

their objection against the use of atomic power for destructive purposes. It is wrong to deride

those who are trying to help in this way; they may not achieve much, but at least they try! “

All the ordinary people of the world are in fear of this thing—the people of France, Italy and

Spain, to mention just a few. They do not seek power through war. Like you they have had

enough. The first world war was a dreadful affair and the last one was appalling, yet these

were nothing to the menace that threatens the world today. If only men would use their

knowledge of atomic power for good, instead of for destructive and dangerous experiments!

They don’t know what they are doing! They don’t see the effect within the Earth’s

atmosphere, within the Earth itself, nor in the space around it, to which in their ignorance

they are even sending monkeys!” His voice was scathing and he added in disgust, “One of

which has since died!” (This sitting took place on June 4th, 1959.)

Later in the séance he commented, “We who can see into the hearts of certain statesmen,

know they will not give way an inch! They are influenced by desire for personal power,

vested interests and material gains.”

“Rudy, what can we do?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied, “only your best to bring enlightenment, and that is all we can do—”

“Your most powerful weapon against the stronghold of Science is your knowledge of the cure

of cancer,” I interrupted firmly. “If greater help could be given in this matter, every barrier

would fall before it because all humanity is seeking the cure.” (I was losing sight of the fact

that there was no one in the medical world prepared, or allowed, to work in co-operation, as

Dr. and Mrs. Marshall can testify over and over again.)

Rudy replied quietly, “Yes, I know. . . . I know too that a ‘miracle’ could happen and we must

strive to make such a thing possible, by our love, patience and desire to serve. That is why

we find such happiness in your little circle, it is indeed an oasis in the desert. To each one of

you I give my love, my thanks, and the assurance that we shall do our utmost to this end. I

must go now. God be with you. Arrivederci.”

When the light was put on we replaced our flowers in the vase, and Jean found that she had

been given her own red rose. We left the room in a thoughtful mood, only to discover that the

force of closing the door over a new carpet in the lounge had pulled the microphone lead out

of its socket, and our tape was blank! But for some reason during the sitting I had made a

mental note of all that had been said, and I believe what I wrote down immediately is almost

accurate in phraseology, and most certainly is accurate in context.

During the years that we have been recording these sittings we have frequently noticed that

a lengthy discourse comes to an end when there is no more than a few feet left on the tape,

and at first we thought it was coincidence, but it has happened too often for this to be the

case. On this occasion I am positive a Spirit operator had noticed our recorder was not

registering, and Mickey’s thundering chorus fading away into a whisper was in actual fact a

volume test, because he had never done such a thing before, and has never done it since.

Had anyone else been in the flat it might have been noticed that the cord was disconnected,

because we leave the recorder in the lounge, and only the microphone is in the séance

room.

One night in July in our home circle John described a clairvoyant picture of a tower from

which came a peal of bells. He did not hear them, but he saw the tone-vibrations of the notes

as bands of colour flowing outwards in increasing circles. Then he described a light that

resembled a star in the sky, and as it came nearer to him it assumed the shape of the Cross.

He was very moved by this inspiring vision, and at the same moment I too saw a similar light,

which as it descended became a cross made from amethyst. This was carved out of one

complete jewel, and the top and cross-members ended in rounded crosslets.

We have reason to remember with special affection the night of July 10th, 1959. Barbara had

gone into the séance room alone and had started to play the piano; we followed later and sat

listening to her and as the last notes of Beethoven’s “Les Adieux” were softly played, Leslie

turned out the light and Barbara took her place in the circle. We waited for a considerable

time before Mickey came through and thanked her for the musical interlude. “Mickey was a

little serious tonight,” was the general opinion after the sitting was over. It was true that

Mickey’s usual personality was less evident, and he gave us an interesting talk on the

evolution of Man.

He explained that Man had been created from Higher Thought, and although the physical

aspect had evolved through aeons of time from the amoebic form, the Thought, which was to

develop into this intelligent being, was created long before a material form of any kind was

made manifest. He ended his little speech by saying: “As Man is created from the Higher

Thought he becomes an instrument for a Higher Intelligence. He develops according to his

thinking. He can be no more than he thinks, and he cannot be a mentally evolved being until

he is ready; until he has had great spiritual experience.”

There was a long pause, then White Feather spoke with difficulty and as he withdrew, Leslie

asked, “Who’s that?” “He’s known to us as White Feather,” I replied, “he has come to us

several times in the past. Perhaps you don’t remember.” Before Leslie answered White

Feather interposed, “Me, White Feather, my brother Black Feather [Rudy’s personal guide

while he was on Earth], him, brother to another whom you know [Rudy]. We are all one big

family; each a part of Great Spirit; each one a power for good.”

There was another pause, then a woman’s deep compelling voice resounded through the

room. “Good evening. Can—you— hear—me? I must ask you to be very patient with me. I—

am— not—yet—used—-to—this, although I have been here before. My name is

BLAVATSKY! I have for some long time been interested in your meetings . . .“ and that was

all she was able to say. I gasped as I recognised Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, the H. P. B.

referred to in Natacha’s book (see the chapters called “Revelations” in “Rudy, An Intimate

Portrait “) who had, according to the message received from Rudy immediately after his

passing, helped him considerably to adjust himself to his new sphere of existence, and it

may have been my audible expression of amazement or the volume of her voice which

shattered the etheric microphone and caused a sudden silence, but the next communicator

had great difficulty in making himself heard.

“It is very nice to see you. . . .“ The whisper hardly reached our ears. “Good evening . . .“ it

trailed away. “I suppose it’s all a matter of experience . . . of course.” This remark was

obviously not addressed to the sitters, but to the Spirit Group. It is always a little strange to

hear them speaking to each other, and it happens only on rare occasions. “Good evening to

you. I am not sure if you can hear me, it is very difficult to know whether one’s voice is

registering or not.” It might have been possible for us to hold a conversation with him, but it

would not have recorded on the tape, so we encouraged him to try once more. There was

silence for a minute and then he began to speak again, though the voice was the one we

associate with Dr Charles Marshall.

It is a fact that if a communicator has difficulty when first using the instrument an experienced

guide or control will act as the mouthpiece. This act of co-operation has often caused

confusion in the past among the sitters, and only recently a minister of the Church, after

listening to one or two recorded séances, published an article in which he almost accused

the Spirit communicator of impersonation, as he could find no other explanation for certain

characteristics of speech. The medium he agreed was beyond reproach and this fact he

clearly stated in the article. In all fairness it must be pointed out that it can be confusing to a

newcomer. Therefore, although the “voice” was a familiar one, the communicator was

unknown to us.

“For some time now I have been an interested spectator at your meetings. I cannot call

myself an active member, but I hope at some future date to be of service. If you succeed, as

those here assure me you will, I hope to come and have a few words with you. There is

much that I and others could say. You’ve made remarkable progress in a very short time,

and from what I’ve been told, in spite of many setbacks—” The conversation was interrupted

by a loud banging. “By the way. we are not responsible for the knocking!” he said in an

amused voice, as someone hammered lustily in the next house.

Before he left I asked him his name and he replied, “I’m afraid it won’t convey anything to

you, but it is Anderson, John Anderson actually. As I said, I come to your meetings.

Goodness me, what a mixed bag! So many souls drawn from such different levels, different

vibrations, who come to you. Of course you have the members of your own regular Group

who are blended together remarkably well, but there are many other souls attracted to your

meetings. Anyway, I must not take up your valuable time. Goodbye.” As he went I remarked I

felt he was a doctor, and immediately the voice replied, “I was a doctor!” “Greetings,” came a

voice that sounded like a soft sustained chord of music, unfortunately against the

background of intermittent hammering, which ceased, however, after a while. “Greetings. I

come to you for this brief hour of your earthly time bringing with me the Power and the Love

of God, that I may leave with you that Force for Good that will enable you to face the daily

toil, the daily strife of your world with an added, assured knowledge that all is well. We are

ever beside you in our own fashion and we endeavour to guide you, to uplift and inspire you,

and bring you ever nearer to the Consciousness of the Divine.

“Words, such as we may use, cannot depict what we feel so strongly in our hearts. Each one

of you has within the Spark of the Divine, the Consciousness, and the Realisation of Truth.

You have the Gift of the Spirit, and whatever the earthly way may bring, you are given the

strength to face it. “As we draw near to you day by day we give you strength, courage and

power; we give you love, so you can give forth what we give freely and in return receive a

thousandfold. Though you do not seek reward, reward shall be yours, for what you are

endeavouring to do is not for ‘self’ but for those who will see, those who will listen, and they

also will be given the Truth.

“Many are they who gather round you, oft-times unseen and unknown. Yet all come in love to

work and serve. Many are the joys which are provided from the Realms of Spirit which shall

give you untold happiness in the days that are to be. In your earthly voyage on the Sea of

Life, though it may oft-times be a buffeting in the storms thereof, yet you will find calm waters

and your sails shall be unfurled, and smoothly you will glide into the Harbour and find peace

and rest when the time shall come. “In this voyage through Time, much can be achieved.

You will be the captain of your ship, but we shall be the wind that will fill your sails that you

may safely travel on the Sea of Life; and many will be rescued by you and taken, as it were,

like drowning men from the Waters of Life, and given help and safe voyage in this vessel we

have provided. You, my friends, are they who have been drawn together to bring comfort to

those of your world who are like drowning men in the Sea of Materialism, and who will come

to you for help. Your circle already shows signs of great achievement; patience and

perseverance shall bring its reward and you shall be indeed blessed.

“Centuries ago in Time when I lived upon Earth, I too ventured upon the Waters of Life, and I

too experienced many things in my own seeking and striving for Truth, and through various

ways and means did find it.

“Centuries ago, when the Earth was young, when the world was undiscovered by Man, I was

one who sought, and in many ways did find Truth. I have for a long time been linked with

you; as indeed you have been linked with me, for my name is Meselope.”

“Meselope?” I exclaimed, “Oh, how wonderful!”

“We are here as one,” he continued, “and you shall learn of others also. You will see how we

are gathered together through Time and Space and made one complete whole. Peace and

love descend upon you, all shall come in time to pass, as we have said, peace be with

you. . . . Farewell.”

Leslie’s amazed voice now exclaimed, “Oh goodness me! I couldn’t remember at first—

Meselope!”

“Yes,” I said. “Don’t you remember? Rudy’s guide, the one who came to Natacha when Rudy

was so ill, and who wrote the first poem in ‘Daydreams ‘ “—and I began to quote the lines:

“The serenade of a thousand years ago, the song of a hushed lip...”

“That’s it, of course! ‘Daydreams.’ I never thought—” Leslie went on.

“Oh, I knew immediately!”

I said. At which point Rudy began to speak, and he was as excited as Leslie. “You begin to

learn, eh? Gradually I bring you all our friends! One by one, so that you may know them by

name and by nature, and they will reveal more and more what we want to achieve.” Later he

said, “I like to feel that we are all one big family striving together, loving together, serving

together in the Cause for God. Oh, it is wonderful! I am very happy tonight. I wanted, very

much, for Meselope and others to speak with you so that you might get to know them, so that

gradually they may tell you more of our work and things that. . . er. . . well, I.. .“ he laughed

self-consciously and continued hurriedly, “I perhaps do not feel I can tell you myself, you

know? But now that we are in perfect harmony.. . the circle, everything is beautiful. . .

perfect! Oh, it will be good. . . . I must go,” he said regretfully, “I leave you with my love, my

blessings, arrivederci.... God bless you.”

No wonder Rudy was thrilled that he had been able to transmit so accurately through his

physical medium the warmth and understanding of this highly advanced soul, who is so far

removed from our modern world that one would imagine he could not possibly find an

analogy to interpret a point of mutual understanding, yet winds and seas and sailing ships

are ever the same, unchanged by time. To have translated the beauty of his thoughts into

modern language would have been tantamount to faking a painting by an Old Master, for

Meselope belonged to the Hermetic Brotherhood and was old in experience when ancient

Egypt was young.

When I was purchasing many things appertaining to Valentino from the dealer in Los

Angeles, our correspondence revealed that we shared a mutual interest in psychic matters,

which led him to mention an article in his possession written by George Wehner, the famous

medium, giving his account of the séance which took place at the château a day or two

before Rudy’s passing. A typed copy of this article was duly sent to me from which I quote

the following extract: “That night we held another séance. Almost at once two of Rudy’s spirit

guides who used to write through him manifested through me [George Wehnerj, Blackfeather

an Indian, and Meselope an Egyptian. Meselope told the eager group in as gentle a manner

as possible that the time of Rudy’s stay on earth was up. That in spite of the reassuring we

had received from America, Rudy would pass from the body on Monday, August 23rd. Jenny

now came again and verified this statement. . . I was only a child when I first read this

message; no wonder Meselope said he had been linked with us for a long time. For even

then his name was destined to remain in my memory until this July night, so many years

afterwards, when what had been just a name became a reality.

One evening in early August in our home circle, I found myself staring fixedly at Rudy, whose

eyes held mine steadily in such a way that I knew he was about to transfer his thoughts to

me, and as the picture unfolded I was able to describe it to the others. I was looking at a

clearing in the jungle from a slightly elevated position, and on my right a native squatting on

the ground was frantically drumming. His muscular back and shoulders gleamed like black

leather in the sunlight; his mass of hair was piled up into a point, several points in fact

through which were threaded long bone ornaments. There were other coloured beads or

seed pods about his person.

Suddenly he looked up over his shoulder past where I was, and since he could not see me I

bent closer in order to appreciate fully the details that my brain found difficult to assimilate.

Without doubt the features were Rudy’s but the forehead was less high; the nose was wider

and the nostrils more flared; the lips were fuller, but the chin and cheek-bones appeared the

same and the eyes were full of boyish pleasure as his frame rocked with the beating rhythm.

I saw all this in a flash. Now my attention was drawn to a young girl sitting in front of me. Her

hair was in tiny tufts, so close to the head that she appeared to be wearing a black woollen

wig. She was stripped to the waist and quite unadorned by trinkets. Her face was passive

and there was an air of dignity about her. I cannot say there were any outstanding features to

convince me, yet I knew I was looking at “myself” and I felt that this period went so far back

in Time that I wanted to say, “Aborigines,” but the word “kraal “ came to me, “African kraal,”

and the scene had gone.

In its place I was shown, on an outstretched dark hand, the model of a mountain carved out

of a single smooth sapphire, and I was given the name Blue Mountain. Vaguely I sensed the

River Nile, but everything was becoming blurred and a moment later I was back in the circle.

I searched an atlas and found Blue Mountains in Australia, Jamaica and the U.S.A., but none

near the Nile. The following day I was engrossed in writing a letter in Italian when I felt “the

approach” and I was instructed to read through a book called “The Wonders of the World.”

Here I found a range of mountains called by the Arabs the Mountains of the Moon, being the

source of the River Nile, and I read on; a man named Baker had attempted to climb one of

the peaks in that district and referred to the Blue Mountains that lay to the south of Lake

Albert, though this name has not been given to the range cartographically speaking as far as

I have been able to ascertain. The highest peak was called Ruwenzori. I flicked through the

pages and in one picture of snow-capped summits I saw, amongst several others, the shape

of the sapphire which I had been shown.

I looked up the name of this particular peak; it was Ruwenzori. A week later Gwen came over

to listen to a tape recording and I was telling her about this odd experience when she

stopped me in utter amazement, to tell me that months before her arrival in the south a

medium had given her a description of an African native, who informed her that her move to

London was ordained. He said she would know her right connection when she received

confirmation of the name he would give her, and she must not forget it. Since coming to

London she had waited patiently at every direct voice séance to hear this name, but nothing

was forthcoming until I recounted my story. The name she had been given was Blue

Mountain.

During the sitting of August 21st, we had been talking about private matters with Mickey for

quite a time before the conversation led to the subject of religious tolerance, and this paved

the way for White Feather. He greeted us and spoke for a short time before embarking on

the main theme by saying:

“You must be charitable in your hearts and in your words. Make allowances for those who

will not see, they cannot be blamed if their sight is poor because they have been nurtured in

ignorance, and fed by those who are ignorant.

“What you call religion in your world has much to commend it, yet there is much also that is

evil because of those who use their power for ulterior motives, to obscure Truth and freedom

of the mind. Those who have shackled men’s minds to earthly conceptions, ignorant and

false ideas and ideologies, one day will see more clearly themselves. Those who are free in

mind and receptive to purer things shall find true salvation of the mind and the spirit. They

cannot be bludgeoned into service. They will be called to service in the quietude and in the

peace that comes from God. You know something of this and in time you will learn more, but

only you can make it possible. We do not ask you to do anything that is beyond you, but you

must try to reach up to us. We do not come to criticise, we do not come to condemn, we

come in love and service, not to chide but to give you hope when you are most cast down.

“To all who hear the voice of Spirit I say: Whatever your condition of life, whatever your

religion— or lack of religion — it matters not; if you have found peace then continue in your

ways, but remember that beyond the confines of man’s mind there is a Greater Truth. I see

in your world many prisons, but the greatest prison of all is the one whose door is locked

against Truth. Many are they who dwell in darkness and who through fear dare not seek the

Truth, because they are chained to creed, dogma, and priests who are themselves ignorant

of the Truth. They have a glimmer of it, but so much is done in fear and that is bad. It is not

of God, for God is Love!

“There was a time when a man, if he did not believe as others wished him to believe, was put

to the rack and to the stake. Those times have passed yet there is even a greater evil, and

that is the chaining of man’s mind and spirit. Truth will break those shackles and those

chains! We who come with freedom and have no religious ties, come with the key that will

unlock the prison gates.

“You my children have been given the key of knowledge and you have turned the lock and

entered into the Realms of Truth, but you must be patient. It is not good even at a feast to

have too much, so we give you a little here, and a little there. Yet you gaze with longing at

the fruits that are unobtainable and yet seem ever within your reach, but when the time is

ripe and you can digest it then you shall have more. Meanwhile remember that you are

guests at the table of the Lord and you are not ready yet to partake of all that is offered!”

There was a “smile” in the cadence of the voice and great tenderness as White Feather

continued, “We who love you know what is good for you. Tell the great tidings of the Spirit,

but do not force our words on those who are not ready to receive. It has been said—and

although I do not like the expression, there is much truth in it—’ Cast not your pearls before

swine.’ There are some who are not ready. Do not force these things upon them.

“When the mind is open and receptive, then shall the seeds fall on good ground and bear

fruit. Some may fall on stony ground, yet here and there between the flagstones perhaps a

little flower will spring up. Remember in this Garden of Earth with all its weeds, there are

flowers too, and here and there you will find the perfect rose. This symbol of love and of

beauty, this symbol of the Divine.

All around you see the simple daisies and buttercups, and many weeds too, but even a weed

has a purpose. Do no despise anything in God’s garden no matter how crude or

undeveloped it may be, because it can change, and the seeds that do not bear fruit perhaps

in another season will come to flower. We who love you and will not fail you are the

gardeners, and we shall see that you are cared for. You shall blossom forth and in time you

shall be indeed a joy and a beauty to behold and an example to others.

“Whatever else I say to you, above all I say this: Love one another, love all God’s children,

even those by whom you feel repelled, for whom you have no affection, no regard. For them

you should strive to have more, and perhaps, most! It is easy to love when love comes

easily. But to love those for whom normally you have no love, is indeed progress. In all the

Great Ones of the past we have shining examples, and as I speak to you I think of my friend

Francis, of Assisi—as you know him. He is a Soul whom all should try to emulate. He who

loved simple things, who loved Nature, and birds and animals; he who had such faith! Be like

unto him, ‘for as ye do unto these lowly creatures so shall ye be done to in return.’

Remember these, who have been given to you in your Kingdom of Earth, who need your

kindliness, your strength and mercy and have no way of defending themselves. Defend

them! Because in them God also planted a spark of His Divinity. They are part of you and as

you destroy them so shall you be destroyed. I must go, others wish to speak to you. Peace

be with you, my children.”

As the “personality” of White Feather withdrew, leaving with us the sacred Essence of the

Realms of Light, it was as if we stood on the brink of a celestial ocean and as the wave of his

presence ebbed away, leaving momentarily a feeling of loss, another wave surged towards

us bringing an even greater out-flowing of infinite warmth and love that drew from us such a

welcoming response that, imperceptible though the withdrawing of one personality is from

another, we knew it was Rudy.

His voice was clear, a tone higher than White Feather’s, and he spoke rapidly. “Sometimes it

is very difficult to make ourselves understood and we have to explain various things by using

parables. In religion many find joy and peace, and if they find this no one has the right to take

it from them. But this I will say: Those who are dissatisfied after searching deeply within, and

cannot find what they need in religion, or in acceptance of a creed, must realise that in some

way they have obscured Truth.

Yet, before you can receive Truth you must first find it in yourselves, then, when you are free

of prejudice and ignorance you are open to receive the Highest Truths which will eventually

solve your problems, no matter what those problems are. Truth will set you free even when

you are most worried, or most tin-happy, because you will see the wisdom and the way. You

will not lack the strength to face anything that may come upon you, because you will have

cast out fear and found the road to peace and tranquility of spirit.

“In your world you have much suffering of mind and body and spirit too! Yet Man is

responsible for it, no one else! Where one man does wrong it is felt by another, and where

one man is sick another is sick also. God has given him free will and he has brought disaster

upon himself in many different ways. In disease, in war . . . oh, in so many things.” There

was such compassion in his voice as he spoke this last phrase I feel I must draw attention to

it, because if he finds the spoken word inadequate how much more is the written word likely

to convey the wrong impression. Nothing that was said during the whole evening inferred

that a judgement was being passed. Quite the contrary in fact, and the voice expressed an

intense desire to help. Rudy, of course, continued without a pause.

“Often Man has suffered by clinging to false creeds, false ideas, and putting his faith in things

which were of no account. You, on the other hand, know that the things of God are yours, but

you must help to make them come into being. They cannot come unless you strive to make

yourselves worthy of them. No one puts the Wine of Life in a poor vessel that is cracked and

broken, and with your knowledge you can become vessels of pure gold! Many of the things

that seem impossible will become fact, and you will do the work that you have desired to do,

for those near and dear to you, those known and unknown, by them you have been set a

task and by them you have been brought together for this work.

“I am but an instrument, no more and no less than you are. It is true that I have more

experience and a greater realisation which it is my joy to pass on to you that we might be

strong in love and service. You have found happiness and peace in the things that are

eternal and when all else has passed away, when all else has failed you, when all has

become as naught in your minds . . . this will remain. This love which passeth all

understanding is ever with you. It is beyond price, beyond all limits imposed by the mind,

beyond all earthly possessions and all that Man has created.

This love which nothing can diminish will remain; this love of God in which we share.

We are made in His image and in His likeness to do His work.

“He does not ask you to bend the knee,

He does not ask you to light the candle,

He does not ask you to burn incense,

He does not ask you to erect temples,

He does not ask you to erect images and bow down to them;

He asks simply, that you do His Will among His children.

THAT IS ALL HE ASKS!

We enter into your lives and into your hearts—for that is where He is found, in the hearts of

His children, and together we go forward step by step a little higher each time, but as we go

higher we think more of those who are lower down the rungs of the ladder, and we

deliberately step back to lift up another. That is service.

“He who would reach the highest rung must be prepared to go back and forth, back and forth

to help the less fortunate. We must sacrifice (though we do not agree with the word,

nevertheless I use it), we must sacrifice ourselves as did Christ and all the Great Teachers.

“Think upon these things, think upon Christ . . . who had nothing, and desired nothing. He

who had no temple, for whom no incense was burnt, He who desired nothing but love, in Him

we are ennobled and made safe. In humility do we find greatness, therefore be humble,

loving workers in harmony with us so together we may be an example to the world, and help

others to find what we have found.

“So my friends we leave you with our love, our peace, and we give to you our blessings and

the Holy Power of the Divine that it may be with you always. Bless you, peace be unto you

always.”

I do not know if the pattern of Spiritual development is always as ours seems to be, one step

forward and two back! A glimpse of the Heights and then down again into the abyss. If it is

so, then it is no wonder that there are many who fail to reach fulfilment along this path.

We returned from Leslie’s that Friday night walking on air, but by lunch-time the following day

I had to retire to bed as I felt very unwell. I was alone in the flat, and as I lay there feeling

dejected my room was filled with the scent of roses and I knew that my dear ones were with

me, and in spite of my discomfort I slept.

On Sunday, August 23rd, as it was the anniversary of Rudy’s passing, I was looking forward

to visiting Leslie in a social capacity, but instead of feeling better after a night’s rest I was

worse. At four in the afternoon I collapsed, and John sent for the doctor who gave me an

immediate examination. His verdict astonished me since he said I would have to undergo a

major operation as soon as possible! I was not the least dismayed at the prospect of the

operation, but I was furious that I should be the cause of a further setback to our work, and

for five days I lay fuming over the situation. It was another four days before I had the

opportunity to speak with Charles and Rudy.

Even an incident such as this is not without its interesting and enlightening aspect, and

affords a classic example of the unforeseen, as indeed did the injury to Anthony’s eye. The

reader may wonder why we were not warned of the impending calamity by our guides and

teachers, and once again I would like to emphasise the point that the unbreakable link with

the Spirit world is by mental contact, and there is no question of their “prying into our every

move,” but where the ties of love are maintained there is a constant awareness, and our

emotions are received like a message over a telephone wire, especially when one obeys the

rule of letting personal wants be known too, as well as including others in one’s prayer. And

of course I had asked for help on this occasion.

Under the circumstances there was no recording made of the sitting, neither Jean nor I being

able to carry the machine, but every detail was faithfully memorised. The date was

September 1st, 1959, and when we arrived that afternoon, Leslie took us straight into the

séance room where we were evidently expected, as Mickey was speaking in a matter of

minutes. I remember he had barely time to offer his sympathy before Charles came through.

When he spoke his voice was full of feeling. “My dear, I am so disappointed you have to face

another setback. Perhaps you feel I have failed you. I am so interested in you, and so close,

yet I never sensed this condition, not one of us was conscious of it! Of course we were

aware of your tiredness, but in view of your extremely full life this was not to be wondered at

and we had given you help to overcome this depletion, but the main cause I never

suspected.”

I hastened to reassure him that I had no thought of having been let down. How could he

have been aware of something that had not given me any warning symptoms? He confirmed

every aspect of the diagnosis and discussed the suggested operation at length.

When Rudy was in communication, more out of curiosity than for any other reason I asked

him if he had sensed a “health condition,” as it is termed in Spiritualistic phraseology. “Oh

no!” he said. “I am not a doctor and I would not be aware of the physical condition unless it

made itself felt in the mental vibrations, but I am aware of your agitation regarding the circle.

“You must try to look on this as an opportunity to put your tranquility into practice! I know the

others will continue to sit, and although it won’t be the same without you, we shall progress

and your absence will not be a long one.” Later he said, “I do not agree with the knife, but

there are occasions when it can be used to advantage and the surgeon’s skill cannot be

overlooked. You will be well cared for and we shall be with you constantly,” he added. “The

rest will do you good. I want you to rest your mind,” he said with emphasis and then he

sighed. “You know, you worry me sometimes.”

“You mustn’t worry over me,” I told him. “I feel much better now that I’ve discussed the circle

with you, and I’ve no fear of the operation whatever.”

“You’ll be quite a celebrity,” he volunteered.

“So many visitors and flowers.”

“A celebrity?” I repeated. “Is that something to be envied?”

“No!” he exclaimed emphatically, “but it is nice to be made a fuss of sometimes.”

This observation was followed by a reference to the time element. Usually there was an eight

to ten week waiting period for a bed at the big Central London hospital where I was to be

admitted, so when Rudy confidently stated that I would be in hospital within three weeks, I

accepted his judgment with reservation. Later in the day during my session at home, I felt

him “approach” and convey the suggestion of writing to the lady almoner, to say that my son

was abroad and I was free of family commitments, and could accept a vacancy at only a few

hours’ notice. It seemed rather pointless to stress this as on returning after the séance I had

received confirmation of an eight-week waiting period. However, I wrote the letter. Fifteen

days later I heard from the hospital that an unexpected vacancy had occurred, which I

accepted, and the operation took place on September 22nd, three weeks to the day when I

had spoken to Rudy.

During the forty-eight hours following the operation while I was in a semi-drugged state, I felt

the presence of my mother, my daughter Valerie, Teresa and Charles, but the effect of the

drugs wore off by the third night, and of that the less said the better! My psychic faculty was

submerged under the physical onslaught and I was rather dreading the fourth night. As I tried

to settle down I felt Charles literally turn me over, curling me round a bunched-up pillow in a

position that caused the night sister some concern when she came to my bedside, but I slept

peacefully.

It was the fifth day after the operation that I had my first real manifestation, and it took place

during the mid-day rest period. My bed was between two windows on the first floor facing the

street, and it was far from quiet. Being a lovely day the sun poured in on both sides of my

bed and I was not asleep though drowsy and completely relaxed. One arm was lying

outstretched with the palm uppermost. Then, without any appreciable change, my fingers

closed over the hand that was holding mine and I felt the depression of the springs on the

side of the bed where Rudy was sitting! He was smiling and completely at ease, just as I

was. There was nothing unreal about him, and the curtains of the next bed were blotted out

by his solidity! I could hear the traffic and see the rest of the ward. I saw the small silk lines

on his shirt cuff; the light shining on his finger-nails and hair. He was wearing a pepper-andsalt

tweed suit and on his wrist just under the cuff of the right hand I could see a thin silver

bracelet, not the platinum one usually associated with him, but a slender chain.

Speech was superfluous, and I saw nothing unusual in his presence and remained utterly

unmoved by it! But I did feel surprise and slight annoyance when I saw a doctor approaching

the other side of my bed, and I thought, “Why ever is he coming during visiting hours?” He

was stout, fairly tall, with a shock of lovely white hair, bright red cheeks, a small moustache,

and the bluest of eyes behind rather thick, old-fashioned glasses. He wore a white coat and

there was a stethoscope round his neck. Rudy turned his head and looked up at the doctor

and I saw every line of his face in profile as he did so, then the doctor bent over me, and I felt

Rudy’s fingers tighten. “Now,” the doctor said, “let me have a look at you; put out your

tongue.” I obeyed and both of them were gone!

I looked down at my hand still curved over “nothing,” yet I felt the grip. “Weiss . . .

Weissman . . . Dr. Weissman” came the fading message. Then also came the flood of

disappointment; Rudy had gone and I had not even appreciated his presence! It had all been

so matter-of-fact it was almost laughable. As for Dr. Weiss or Weissman I have never heard

of him, but so clearly is he imprinted on my mind I would know him again among a thousand

others!

During the same week, and at the same hour, I had a similar experience. On this occasion I

was not so relaxed, and I lay on my back with my knees flexed against a pillow to ease the

discomfort, and I slept fitfully. Suddenly I “awoke” to find my weightless form, with knees

straightened, floating in a horizontal position about two feet above the bed, the upper part

being supported as Rudy lowered me gently into my sleeping body. This was my first

experience of astral projection and almost too brief for me to observe many details, but when

my etheric form sank into its material counterpart the density and the pain of the physical

body engulfed the finer perceptions, and he was gone!

This time, however, whilst oblivious to my surroundings, I was fully conscious that it was a

supernormal visitation and therefore I was more appreciative in my attitude and response,

which in turn displayed a normal reaction, and when I pulled myself up by the bedrail on to

the pillows, a patient a few beds away on the opposite side of the ward exclaimed with a

surprised voice, “You must be feeling very much better today, you look quite radiant!” I

thought for one moment she had seen something!

I had made friends with a young girl in the ward and this incident was recalled many weeks

later when she came to our home to hear a tape recording, and as I described the happening

she exclaimed, “Oh, I remember, Lynn! I remember how surprised you looked, and no

wonder!”

The rest of my stay in hospital was uneventful, and I returned home on October 4th, only

twelve days after the operation, but it was not until October 23rd that I was strong enough to

journey into town for a sitting.

After the preliminaries were over Mickey said, “You’ve had a bit of a revelation, ain’t you?”

“Yes, Mickey,” I replied. “I had some wonderful experiences and so much help too.”

“Of course you had help,” Charles broke in, “but there is no need to be repetitious about

these things. The operation was a success and your health is steadily improving, but I would

say this: your absolute faith and confidence within yourself that all would be well made it

possible to give you the help we promised.”

Rudy was not quite so assured and he cautioned me: “You must remain calm, it is so

important. We don’t want you to be ill when you have made such progress, for you’re far

from well yet.” Then he spoke to the group collectively, “I know what you are thinking! ‘What

next! What’s going to be next?’ First it was Stanley, then Jean, and you were not too well,

John, and now Lynn! Well, the worst is over now, and a more placid period has begun.”

Shortly afterwards he referred to the book which he had commissioned me to write and he

said, “I think it will give comfort and inspiration to many people. It will be a revelation. This is

part of our work, not all, but part of it.”

During my illness and in the weeks of convalescence there had been much time in which to

tabulate a host of questions, and when the subject of the book arose I fired some of them at

Rudy in a breathtaking fusillade: How were the miracles achieved?

Was I to mention reincarnation in the book? How does birth-control affect reincarnation?

These were only some of the far-reaching subjects which I presented to him, and they would

have taken half a dozen sittings to sort out if dealt with by mortal agency. At this time I had

not learned that some of the questions are better left unasked rather than hurled forth in

over-eager enthusiasm, when the questing heart has not yet learned to explore the subtle

realms where intuition is stronger than reason. Rudy did not stem the flood, he merely

checked it at its source. “There is no such thing as a miracle!” he said. “Only that which

seems so because it is not understood. There are powers within Man of which he has little

knowledge; they are as yet an untapped source. But not to a Master.”

I do not propose to go further into the answer given because there is no way of generalising,

and Rudy made this clear when he said, “You must not be disturbed in your mind because

people cannot accept things. A person will only accept a thing when he is ready; not before.

After all, what is spirit communication? Some would accept it and, not understanding the

method used, call it a miracle, and others refusing to acknowledge it would say it was false,

or if it really does take place that only evil spirits are being contacted. Some people make

any excuse rather than accept the truth. Truth cannot be easily accepted by some because it

is too simple! Simplicity defeats people, but faith and the power of thought can overcome all

things, and when used and harnessed by a Great Teacher nothing is impossible.”

In dealing with the other questions Rudy said, “Reincarnation is an essential thing, and of

course you must present it. It does not apply to all people. Often it occurs through choice:

when a person feels the need to return to Earth to gain experience which has been

previously lacking; when the lessons from Earth life have not been sufficiently absorbed.

There are those also who come back because they have a specific work, or an urge to

educate the masses; to uplift them and set an example. Most of the teachers and seers are

Souls who return for a mission.

“Regarding the subject of birth-control, I think the answer to that is simple! I do not think it

was intended that one should bring a life into the world ad lib. or whenever one felt inclined,

but when it is essential for a certain soul to incarnate, that—soul —will—come in any case,

through one channel or another. I feel you emphasise parentage too much, although it is

important in a material sense and of course it has its spiritual value, but we do not see things

in the same way. From a certain level of progress a soul wishing to incarnate can choose its

parents, and it is not for the parents to deny, in fact they cannot deny, the entrance of a soul

that is prepared to come! The thought is such that it is all-powerful, and when a soul is ready

to be born it impresses and inspires its chosen parents in such a way there is no possible

chance that it could not be born.”

Since this information was given I have studied this subject more thoroughly, and I will

interrupt the account of the séance, in order to anticipate obvious queries, by saying that

from another less progressed level, provided a soul enters into a specific standard of society

suited to its needs, it is not important to which family it is drawn. If one channel is denied,

another within the same community will provide entrance, and so on. On Earth, of course,

one family is isolated from another, but this distinction is not apparent from the Spheres

where all the inhabitants of the Earth are considered “the family.” In a small booklet I read

recently, “Reincarnation” by Irving S. Cooper of the Theosophical Society, there was one

very illuminating point, namely, that numerically the population of the planet remains at

almost the same level, either on this side or on the Spirit Side, with new inexperienced souls

entering in small numbers to take the place of those whose Life experience allows them to

step off the wheel of incarnation permanently, unless they wish otherwise.

We ourselves have witnessed the tide ebbing and flowing, as thousands leave the material

life prematurely on account of war, and another wave of incoming souls levels up the

balance by the rising birth rate which usually follows. In the Divine Census each soul is truly

accounted for, and should circumstances imposed by Man’s limitations frustrate its progress

temporarily, countless further opportunities are given it, and no one can obstruct the

progress indefinitely. Although they may retard it or distract it from its chosen path, they

cannot alter its ultimate progression.

At the time that Rudy answered my question I was not so well informed, and I struggled to

grasp the significance of the remark, “There is no possible chance that it could not be born,”

and in the pause that followed John asked a question although he said it meant changing the

subject. He asked why it was that when Meselope had spoken to us in July he had felt so

drawn to him, yet at the time the name meant nothing. Rudy replied with subtle evasion by

saying, “I like to think that Meselope made a great impression, not only on you, but on all of

you. He is a Great Soul. He has been a tremendous help (although ‘help’ is a mild term to

use) and inspiration to me, both Here and when I was on Earth. He will help and inspire

anyone who can come within his reach, and I think he has drawn very close to you as he

knows of your reaction to him. You personally will receive much more from him, quite apart

from the circle.

“I’m afraid I have to go in a moment,” he said regretfully, “but it has been wonderful to come

together again as one family. Your health will improve, Lynn, and we shall have some

wonderful experiences without any more setbacks, and we know these experiences are not

for ‘self’ but for all to share. For when one person is helped another one is helped also, and

so it goes on like the proverbial snowball. . . . Oh, I want to say so much! But words are

impossible, and they do not come to me as easily as I would wish. I leave you with my

blessings and my love until we meet again. Arrivederci.”

From the date of that séance to Christmas we noticed that one symbol had been constantly

received by one or more of the home circle as the sittings drew to a close, and in my case

was frequently seen when I was dropping off to sleep. This object was a single yellow rose;

but it was not until I received a Christmas card from Leslie depicting a sheaf of yellow roses

in front of a blue bowl that I began to realise that this symbol was being given deliberately,

though I could not interpret it with certainty. In a subsequent sitting, however, when the

subject of superstition was being discussed, I had the chance to ask: “What is the meaning

of yellow roses?”

“Most people associate red roses with love,” Rudy replied, “but there is another form of love

which is golden. The yellow rose has a more subtle significance . . . it is the symbol of a

unique love. Did you notice where the roses were?”

“On the Christmas card, you mean? They are lying in front of the bowl,” I said.

“Yes,” he replied, “roses of love do not need water to sustain them. But there is a reason for

everything we show you, and we like to see you struggling to find the meaning.” His voice “

smiled.” Then he spoke about the circle and indicated a change he wished us to make,

namely, to remain silent in the future.

“Impressions, symbols, clairvoyance are interesting and helpful,” he said, “but they are not

enough for me! To obtain the ‘voice’ we must now conserve the power; therefore, don’t get

impatient either with yourselves or with us if things don’t happen as you think they should.

Our work is difficult and cannot be hurried, but it will help if you remain quiet. You see, an

atmosphere is created and you become receptive, heightened as it were, and the vibrations

are increased. Then, piercing this occasionally comes a thought that has been brought into

being, and you voice it. In doing so it cuts across the vibration and breaks it, and everyone

becomes alert. When you are quiet, relaxed and drifting on to this plane that we are creating,

you are more likely to achieve results. Wait until after the session is finished to compare

notes. There are things you cannot control such as noises around you or above your head,

but do not ‘Tch, tch!’ when you hear them, and so add to the disturbance, and above all,

don’t worry.”

In January 1960 we met again at Leslie’s, and after the séance had started we sat in utter

silence for more than a quarter of an hour, during which time Leslie seemed to be almost in a

trance. His breathing was particularly heavy when a masculine voice spoke, clearly and

concisely. “Do not be apprehensive. We are taking longer than usual tonight, but for a

special reason.” There was another long pause, and then the same distinctive voice

continued, “As you no doubt know there are many strata and spheres of life according to the

development and condition of Man. Over here there are innumerable spheres of life and

those who come from highly developed states of being find greater difficulty in making

contact with your world.

“The powers of a medium are not in a sense restricted, but are affected by his mentality, his

way of life, and the conditions that are around him. To a great extent mediums make

possible the work we are able to do through them. They can limit our work or open up wide

vistas of possible progression. It is a great responsibility, and although you may have a

medium who is successful from many aspects, yet from our point of view he may be a

disappointment.

“If we have a medium who in himself is making every effort to meet us mentally and

spiritually, then there is no limit to what we can achieve. But of course we realise the

difficulties and we fully appreciate the complexities of your life, yet nothing is impossible

provided there is complete love and harmony existing between those in your world and us on

This Side, all working together for the common good; it requires effort on both parts. It is not

enough to sit in circle and act as an instrument, one must make every effort in one’s daily life

to become a better person, to give forth love in one’s daily routine. It is not enough just to sit

for an hour with an open mind and heart; it is not enough to cast the world out of mind for a

brief hour and expect to become a medium of some consequence in return! You must make

every effort to serve Mankind.

“I do not want you to misunderstand my reason for speaking in this way,” the voice said

gently, “I am not speaking of any particular medium, either professional or otherwise. I am

merely stating facts. You, as a body of people, are sitting together with sincerity and purpose

to link up with the Realm of Spirit. It is a wonderful thing, and I know you are blessed, and

that many Souls from This Side are endeavouring to work with you, and through you, and I

have no doubt that you will succeed. But of course it will take time; it will mean many

sacrifices on your part, and some sacrifices we know you have made already. Your material

lives are not perhaps very successful in the eyes of the world, but it is your personal lives,

your spiritual activities and ambitions that are important to us, and how you react to others in

your daily lives. Especially those to whom you are not attracted because of a dissimilarity of

character, temperament and personality, and who very often irritate you. It is for you to learn

how to overcome these difficulties, and make every effort to do good.

“Doing good in your world is not always easy, for sometimes when you feel you are doing

good you find to your dismay that the consequences have the opposite effect. Life is very

complex, but if you give out love and in service grow mentally and spiritually closer to us

there are no limits to the development of your powers as instruments for Higher Purpose and

Higher Service. “We have watched over you, we have interested ourselves in you, and we

know that together we shall succeed. There is nothing for you to fear for you are under the

protective wing of the Divine and He shall shield you and protect you. Your hearts shall be

lifted high, and you will rejoice and see, in some part, the beauties and the joys of the

Kingdom of God while yet on Earth.

“We are a band of Brothers and we rejoice in our knowledge, in our experience, and in our

oneness with the Divine. My children, tonight we are blessed, for the conditions prevailing

are excellent and the atmosphere that has been created is tremendous.

“What we have said you will be able to play over to your friends, many of whom you do not

yet know but who will become your friends, for they shall be sent to you because they are in

need, and as they listen they shall be comforted. Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall

be comforted! To all who listen to the voice of Spirit I say: There is no death, only that which

seems so, for those who once were with you and are now in the Realm of Spirit, are still with

you in thought, in mind, in harmony and love. There is no dividing line if only you will bridge

it. Death does not exist where there is love.”

Then having delivered this message for those who will eventually hear the tape recordings,

or read the transcriptions of them, our unnamed friend turned his attention to us and we felt

his presence enfold the circle. “The Truth,” he said softly, “as we shall deliver it will make you

free, and the way in which we work with you will be a revelation. The ensuing months will

bring you joy, and you will be developed and used as instruments for a Higher Intelligence.

The path of Spiritual Progression has indeed begun. Peace be with you.”

Others of our Group followed this communicator, Mickey, Rudy and Jim Hawkins, and finally

the séance was closed by another from a similar state of being as the first visitor. No name

was given, and the presence which manifested within the room during the address made it

an impertinence to question.

The effect of such a contact as this is apt to throw into relief one’s own inadequacies. One

tries to retain the rapture that for a brief while made one feel it was immediately possible to

become the person They desire to work with. But no growth takes place rapidly, and it is no

easy thing to break the habits of a lifetime. The Spirit teachers never attempt to produce

sudden conversions because they know the results are not lasting. The awakening must

always be a slow process.

Unfortunately Leslie’s health suffered in the spring and it was nearly three months before we

could arrange another sitting, and this lapse in itself was something of a strain as I was not

too well and getting rather irritable. The circle was progressing, however, and because we

had lost so much time through illness we decided to sit twice a week, but when we eventually

made contact again with our friends Charles took me to task! His first words were, “Why

don’t you relax? It would be much better for us!”

I asked him if he knew that we were having an additional sitting and what he thought about it.

“We were quite content with one night a week, but if you feel happier with two sessions a

week we shall continue to cooperate with you, but we don’t expect more of your time. It is

because you, my child, are over-anxious that this second sitting has developed!”

“I think you may be right,” I said. “I don’t think. I know!” he answered firmly. “You must not

imagine you can hurry things. You have become far too intense and it is not good for you, or

for your friends, nor is it much help to us! You must learn to relax and accept what comes or

does not come, realising that we are doing all in our power. This tremendous intensity is a

great drawback to the circle and to our work. We appreciate all your thoughts in this

direction, but it is not good to dwell too intently on this—or on any subject for that matter. You

have to be practical and keep a balanced outlook; you have to live in and cope with the

problems of a material world and face up to your responsibilities, though I do not say you

shirk them in any way.” There was a pause and no one spoke. When he continued his voice

was very gentle. “A lot of people are under the misconception that to obtain results, to

become a medium, one has to give up everything and be so intense about it that the desire

almost becomes an obsession. That is completely wrong. Look upon the seances as a

drawing away from the world, as an hour of quietude, of peace and Holy Communion—for

that is what it should be—to give us the opportunity to link with you.

“Assuming that weeks go by and nothing very much seems to be happening, remember we

have been present, we have brought our thoughts to bear upon you, and our healing power

has strengthened and refreshed you. There are things in your earthly life which are just as

important as our hour of communion, because it is through your material life you develop and

evolve. When you come Here you will understand the purpose behind all these things. You

know you concern me very much, and you concern your loved ones too.”

“I’m sorry, Charles,” I said meekly. “I don’t want to cause anyone concern, and I’ll try to do all

you ask.”

“Well,” he answered kindly, “I’ve given you my lecture! Bye-bye.”

Although Rudy upheld Charles in every way he sensed that I was a little crestfallen and he

spoke soothingly. “You’re in a terrible state! But I don’t blame you; you have not been too

well because of a slight reaction from the operation and certain domestic worries. All these

things drag you down and it is most difficult to control the nervous system. You have been

getting very what do you say? . . . het up! Well, that’s a woman’s privilege.” He laughed, and

the séance proceeded to its close in a lighter vein. From then on by mutual consent we kept

our sittings to Mondays only.

IN view of my own feelings on this subject, and in spite of the fact that they have undergone

a vast change as knowledge has replaced Ignorance, the writing of this chapter has

presented the most difficult venture of the entire book, and I have to admit that on no fewer

than three occasions I have asked Rudy outright if I could omit certain revelations which he

had given me. To which he invariably replied, “I do not like half-truths. If we are going to offer

half-truths about this subject, why should we expect the reader to accept any other part of

the book as the whole truth which we know it is?” That seemed a fair answer, so I set myself

to write this account as impartially as possible.

Until encouraged by him to do so I had not deliberately sought Information about

reincarnation, for I was content to have seen glimpses of past times in the various clairvoyant

pictures during our development, together with dreams and visions, and I had no wish to

enquire into things which I felt were irrelevant. It was not as though my experience of these

flash-backs was unique, because only a short time ago Jean remembered a dream in which

she had taken an active part, and when she related the details to Rudy at an earlier sitting he

said that from her description it might well be a flash-back to another incarnation, though he

himself did not know anything about it. I am not acquainted with the law which governs the

right to read a personal Life record, but I have noticed that unless it crosses his own, Rudy

does not seem to have the desire to search into the past lives of other members of the circle.

The only time he has confirmed any previous existence regarding Jean, Stanley and John

has been in reference to periods when he himself was incarnate and in some way linked with

them.

This topic, however, was furthest from our minds on the evening of May 5th, 1960. It was the

eve of Rudy’s birthday and of the wedding of Princess Margaret. London was in festive mood

and the weather was glorious, which all went to create excellent conditions for a séance. The

sitting had gone on for some time when we asked Rudy if he had read a certain modern

book which dealt with the evolution of Man from the times before Atlantis. (In the Spirit World

there is a replica of every book ever written, which is logical because Thought is the reality

from which comes the written word.) Rudy replied in the negative and then said, “There are

channels through which information can be poured, but one must always be careful that the

subject is not being influenced by the mind of the instrument. You must be sure of the source

or else you may well be receiving what is only a flight of fancy. Always analyse these things.

But why do you ask this?”

“Because it reveals patterns of incarnation reaching back as far as Atlantis and up to the

present—” “It’s interesting,” Rudy exclaimed, “but I don’t think something that happened so

long ago can have much effect upon you today, it is so far removed . . . but . . . I’m more

concerned with recent incarnations, let us say those within the last four thousand years! But

when you go back ten or twelve thousand years long before your first incarnation, I feel it’s

only of general and not personal interest.”

“Well?” I said. “What about the nearer ones?”

“Ah!” He paused a moment and then added, “What about the time of Cesare Borgia?” (1478-

1507.)

“Go on!” I sighed resignedly—of all periods he had to choose the Renaissance!

He began to speak rapidly: “That was a very important incarnation. I was associated with

Italy then, but I was not a Borgia myself—although I was linked with the family . . . and so

were you,” he added and as his voice recalled the strife and intrigue of province against

province, house against house, I began to realise he was gently leading me to an

understanding of my deep-rooted fears and aversions, bringing the truths to the surface in

order to help me dispel them. “Some families clung together,” he said, “but in others there

was much animosity. On occasions they would get rid of certain people who stood in their

way, even though it were a brother or a sister. . . .“ Carefully he edged round the subject and

then diplomatically associated himself with the situation by inferring there was a bond of

sympathy linking us with this period. “I, also, had some very unpleasant experiences with the

Borgias. A strange thing is that I was so anxious to play the role of Cesare in a film! I realise

now that it was a throwback to my previous incarnation when I was affected by the family.

Our families were not exactly enemies but we were certainly not on friendly terms . . . oh! I

have much ‘troubles’ with the Borgias!”

“Was I a member of a friendly family?” I asked hopefully.

“No!” he laughed softly. “You were on the Borgia side—”

“Oh no!” I wailed. “What a crowd! Let me see, what was her name . . . Lucia . . .“

“Lucrezia,” he corrected me. “She was not so bad as she is painted. History has much

maligned her. Her brother was much more dangerous. It’s strange that I wanted to play that

character, and also that of Benvenuto Cellini. Most of my films have had incarnation

throwbacks. In one incarnation I lived in India [the film ‘The Young Rajah ‘j, in another in the

desert [two films] and in another in ancient Egypt.”

“Oh!” I said, “I wish you’d played that part.” I was so clear in my own mind as to the role he

meant that I forgot to say which part I was thinking of.

“You mean Rameses?”

“Of course!” I answered. “You’d have looked wonderful in that costume.”

“I would have liked to play that part, ver’ much . . . but it was not to be. I suppose most of the

vividness in my films was due to these throwbacks to my past, although I did not realise it.

But sometimes, when I was playing or rehearsing a scene, it was as if I were not . . . myself. I

used to feel very strange; it’s difficult to explain.”

“Did I know you in the desert incarnation?” I asked.

"Yes, you did,” he replied definitely.

“That explains why that film made more of an impression on me, I suppose,” I reminisced.

“Ugh!” Rudy groaned. “You refer to that dreadful film ‘The Sheik’?”

“No, I never saw it. I meant the last one you made.” But he ignored my reply and went on: “I

never liked it; it was a very bad film because I was neither one thing nor the other . . . pshaw!

I was neither Sheik nor Italian!” He gave another little snort of disgust and then laughed. “I

don’t know what I was supposed to be! I could not do anything with it. I could not create argh!

I had to do what I was told by Melford.” Now it was our turn to laugh because I do not think

Rudy took kindly to being told what to do by anyone, especially against his own instinctive

feelings. He went on, “I tried to bring some character into it but it was a melodramatic,

ridiculous story. . . .“ I could almost see him shrugging his shoulders as he said, “It did me a

lot of good, so I suppose I must be grateful to it. I only enjoyed playing the last one because I

was able to play the two parts, the father and the son ['The Son of the Sheik'] and it gave me

a chance to portray a character role and to work with Fitzmaurice, for whom I had long

wanted to work. But looking at my films now, I don’t know . . . they all seem so dated!

I like best playing Juan [‘Blood and Sand’] and then Julio [‘The Four Horsemen of the

Apocalypse’]. They were my two favourite characters. Oh— and Beaucaire. In these I was

able to develop something, I was able to believe in what I was doing—to create a character,

and to know I was playing someone of flesh and blood, someone who had heart and feeling.

I wasn’t just a dressed-up bogus . . . something or other! I loved playing Gallardo [Juan

Gallardo, ‘Blood and Sand’]. I think in many ways Juan Gallardo was my favourite role.”

“Have you ever had a Spanish incarnation?” I asked.

“Strange to say I have no recollection of one. But perhaps that isn’t quite correct because I

know I had a Moorish incarnation, and you must remember that the Moors conquered

Southern Spain, but my memory of it is almost non-existent. I understand I have had

eighteen incarnations.”

“Eighteen!” we chorused.

“Eighteen,” he repeated.

“One day I will explain more fully about reincarnation and how it plays an important part in

our lives, how we are blended together, why we are brought together and for what purpose,

not only to do this work but for other reasons more complex perhaps. In the meantime I want

to thank you very much for coming together on the eve of my earthly birthday. I appreciate all

the kind thoughts you have for me, and I am glad that in some small measure I can repay

you. I must go. I leave you with my love and my blessings. Carry on the good work, each one

of you, and remember that I love you. Goodbye. Arrivederci.”

At least two of Valentino’s films had flash-backs of the past incorporated into the plot, “The

Young Rajah” and “Cobra.” He also took the part of a Moor in a film which was never

released, called “The Hooded Falcon.” He played the role of a Frenchman in several films,

one of which was “Monsieur Beaucaire.” He was a Spaniard in three films, an Indian in one,

an Arab in two, and the role which appears to have no connection with his past has a

Russian setting in the film “The Eagle.” His home, Falcon Lair, was furnished in the

Renaissance style which he loved. His personal emblem took the form of a cobra, and it was

placed as a mascot on the bonnet of his car, and on his cigarette case and lighter. Was it

merely coincidence that he chose this sign which would not be considered ideal by many

people, or was he influenced by his Egyptian incarnation or even by his guide Meselope?

The Egyptian cobra (haje) was the symbol worn on the headdress of Divinities and kings in

ancient Egypt. In the following weeks I studied Italian history between the years 1450-1550

and was never more confused! What with family feuds, uprisings, wars, and murders galore,

I felt more reluctant than ever to accept my part in it, yet I was led unerringly through the

maze by following the familiar symbols that we had thought were so unimportant during our

early clairvoyance, and by June I had unravelled the thread which I sensed was mine.

As an erstwhile anti-reincarnationist, it had always been my contention that one rarely heard

of a nonentity reincarnating, but only the famous. However, this explains itself since people

gifted with a “long memory” recall only the vivid experiences, while the uneventful life such as

Rudy’s Moorish incarnation fades into oblivion. I think often the interpretation becomes

confused when seeing clairvoyantly, or “remembering,” an historical figure dressed in the

fashion of a certain period in which the person receiving the vision lived also. Obviously

every woman of note in Egypt at that time dressed like Cleopatra, but it does not follow that a

woman of today, psychically seeing or feeling herself dressed in that same way, was herself

the famous queen, but possibly one of her lesser subjects. Perhaps it is for this reason that

there have been many claimants to certain colourful characters in the world’s history, but, as

far as I know, I have no rivals to my unenviable personality existent in the 15th century.

Should one appear on the scene I will gladly concede my claim and with no hesitation.

The confirmation that my findings were correct was not given in a dramatic fashion and I was

not encouraged to dwell upon the matter. It was June 17th to be precise when we arranged a

sitting with Leslie, who had announced a few days earlier that he and a small party of friends

were visiting Castellaneta in August; of course there was no suggestion of our joining them

as we bad not recovered financially after Anthony’s setback and my illness, and I could not

altogether banish a slight feeling of disappointment as the sitting commenced. Rudy,

however, made no attempt to hide the sadness in his voice when he said, “I am so sorry you

cannot go to Italy this year, but you will go, probably in the spring. It is my desire that you

should go, and I know that you will. I only wish I could make it possible now, all of us Here

would like to help you but there are things beyond our control.” Partly to change the subject

and of course to satisfy myself I remarked some moments later, “I’ve been reading a great

deal of the history of Italy since our last talk.”

“Ah, ah!” exclaimed Rudy knowingly.

“That’s what you expected me to do, wasn’t it?” I asked him.

“Of course,” he replied. “Well, you know there was a period in my Life when I was a member

of the Borgia family—but I was not Lucrezia.” (Life experience of both sexes is necessary in

Soul development.)

“No,” I said. “Who was?”

“What did you say?” he questioned as my voice had evidently gone quiet.

“Who was?” I repeated.

“You,” came the firm reply.

I nodded and said, “Yes, I know.. . . and you . . . Alfonso?” He did not answer and I realised

that I had not made it clear to which Alfonso I was referring, so I hastened to rectify the

omission. “Alfonso di Bisceglie?”

“That is so,” came the quiet answer, “but it is all a very long time ago. At one period we had a

very interesting history in Florence; we had an extraordinary career! I was very interested in

Art and so were you, but the family quarrels and all the upsets . . . Oh! It is all so far away . . .

but we have learned from these things, thank goodness! Sometimes you must wonder why

you have to come back.”

“Indeed we do!” we agreed unanimously.

In the lengthy talk which followed he gave three distinct reasons for a soul returning to Earth,

to which I am adding some explanation in my own words, that may help to dispel the cause

of certain conflicting opinions regarding this. Sometimes in the early stages of evolution the

choice is made for us by a Higher Authority, as our only means of gaining experience and

progression, and there seems to be an inner wheel of almost automatic return which governs

the entrance into, and out of, incarnation, with scant selection of circumstances. Provided the

soul gains earthly experience it does not matter of what that experience consists, up to a

certain stage. It can be likened to a child learning to make letters into words. Naturally many

mistakes are made and the soul learns by suffering from the effects of these mistakes. That

is cause and effect, and only when the effects are rectified b that soul through its own

progression and inward desire to atone, can it aspire to the next stage. Then it is at a point of

progression when it will choose of its own accord to return and put right a Karmic debt, as a

child will volunteer to sit again for an examination.

There is also a personal choice which is made in order to gain experience in a given

direction. For this we often choose the parents who will mould us or surround us with the

required conditions. No matter what those conditions are, they can never be judged by

material standards, and many great souls have evolved from conditions of poverty, hardship,

sickness, and even physical handicap. Sometimes we are asked to return to do a certain

work, and the opportunities to do this specific work will be presented many times, in many

ways, yet our free will can still reject or ignore these opportunities. The result will be that we

return yet again, for no soul turns away for ever from the Will of God.

Each return brings a quota of free will which is the birthright of every personality, but over

and above this degree there is the free will of the Higher Self which has decreed the return in

the first place, and finally the Will of the Divine Consciousness, and neither of these will

condemn should the free will of the incarnate portion defeat its own destiny temporarily; the

accent is on the word “temporarily,” because Time is an illusion. It is not important how long

the journey takes or how many attempts are made to climb from one stage to another, or

how much time elapses between incarnations. In certain instances there can be an

immediate return, and naturally, with love as the binding force, the members of the Group

that have forged ahead will always be seeking out and encouraging the slower ones to

progress, which is emphasised once again by the last phrases of Rudy’s address when he

said:

“There is a reason for my work on Earth being finished—that is regarding my return in a

physical body; but I help many people, and I have manifested at various times through many

people. I DO NOT ONLY COME TO YOUR GROUP. I have worked through others and I still

make contact through others in various parts of the world. We who serve, give ourselves

completely in service and we seek those who are attuned to us—those to whom we are

closely bound by ties of love and past experience, and through whom we hope to do specific

work. We are endeavouring to band together a vast group of souls in your world and in ours,

to combat evil and to prevent the repetition of tragedies that in the past have been the curse

of Mankind. But as always, this work can only be done in humbleness and invariably through

the meek and the lowly. Christ and all the Great Ones—whether it is Saint Francis or Others

who come with our Group to band together with you, all are lowly in their own estimation.

Continue with this great work, my friends, remember we are God’s servants and we cannot

fail.”

Before I bring this part of the chapter to a close I must mention that my chosen title for it

does not meet with Rudy’s approval. In keeping with the teachings I should not feel reluctant

to be called into service on any stratum of life, and it is not in accordance with the teachings

of the Great Ones to resent the schooling; all should be looked upon as an exciting

adventure, and the more humdrum phases accepted philosophically. But I have not outgrown

completely my distaste of this constant returning, and the more I develop psychically the

more I become conscious of physical restrictions. This among many other things is

something I still have to overcome, and it must be borne in mind that in regard to myself

Rudy took over very raw material, and as I am not writing this book in retrospect I must

present my immediate reactions in order to be true to myself. My personal attitude of

reluctance is one that should be avoided.

This observation, however, may well provide an appropriate introduction to the details of the

Borgia line as follows: Rodrigo Borgia became Pope Alexandra VI. He had, among others,

four “natural” children by Vanezza Catanei: Juan (Giovanni), Cesare, Joifre and Lucrezia. It

was Cesare who ruled the family by force, so that even the pope went in fear of his son

whom he had created a cardinal and who bore the title of Duke of Valentino, though he was

at heart a soldier, and a ruthless one at that. Father and son arranged that the thirteen-yearold

Lucrezia should marry an older man, Giovanni Sforza. It could hardly be called a

marriage, and in one book it says she took her dolls with her to Pesaro. When it was

politically convenient Cesare arranged a divorce for his sister by threatening Sforza’s life

unless he complied, as the Borgias wanted power over the members of the house of Aragon,

and possession of their lands. So a marriage was arranged between Lucrezia, now

seventeen, and the nineteen-year-old Prince of Naples. Alfonso di Bisceglie.

For a year all went well; the young couple lived in a castle at Nepi, north of Rome, and in

1499 a son was born, Rodrigo, Duke of Sermoneta. He was christened in the Sistine Chapel,

just before it was so exquisitely adorned by the work of Michelangelo. Juan (Giovanni), Duke

of Gandia, was being unco-operative politically, so Cesare had him assassinated even

though he was his brother! Now he turned his covetous eyes northwards to the rich lands of

Romagna, and as his sister was still attractive enough to be used again as a pawn in the

game, Cesare decided to get her divorced from Alfonso di Bisceglie . . . but there were

difficulties. According to historians she loved her husband, and such wifely devotion was not

encouraged in court circles.

Lovers were two a penny, but husbands merely a convenience by arrangement. Alfonso was

equally devoted and to add to the legal difficulties, the child was legitimate. Three major

obstacles which made the divorce impossible. Cesare felt justified in deciding that the young

Prince of Naples must be removed. The pope, knowing the danger, ordered the couple back

to Rome and did his best to protect them, for he was deeply attached to his daughter. But

one night Alfonso was attacked and terribly wounded. He was carried to Lucrezia’s

apartments in a house near the Vatican where she and Alfonso’s sister, widow of the Duke of

Gandia, nursed him for several weeks, not allowing anyone else near him; they even

prepared his food themselves, but it was of no avail.

One night the pope sent for Lucrezia and while she was absent, two men, hired by Cesare,

broke into the apartment and strangled the helpless Alfonso. It was previous to this dreadful

act that Cesare is reported to have said, “What was not finished at dinner will be finished at

supper!” The whole miserable business was hushed up as far as it could be and Lucrezia

was sent back to Nepi with her baby son to face her widowhood. After a short period her next

marriage was arranged, this time to Alfonso d’Este of Ferrara. Her little son was handed over

to relatives of the Borgia family, and in a letter (one of many still preserved in Milan Museum)

she said to her future sister-in-law Isabella d’Este, “I am ordered back to Rome. There is

nothing I can say; I can only weep. Your unhappy Princess of Salerno.”

Alfonso d’Este was a kind man, and she made a good wife and mother. She had seven

children, not all of whom survived, but her great sorrow was the death at thirteen of her first

child, who had never been allowed to rejoin his mother. He died at Ban. She lived another

five years and died in childbirth at thirty-nine, in 1519. It was not an easy passing and she

suffered severe head pains, and in the belief that it would ease her distress her long golden

hair was cut off; it is still preserved in Milan Museum, where three hundred years later Lord

Byron attempted to steal a strand.

Happily we now return to 1960. It is always an added interest when a newcomer endeavours

to communicate for the first time, and the seance of August 5th was proceeding with much

hilarity, on account of Leslie’s forthcoming holiday, and we were awaiting Rudy’s presence

with excitement, when a strange voice broke in:

“I am listening to the conversation, and I must say I find it all very interesting.

I do not know if you can hear me? This is my first attempt to speak to you in this fashion; how

do you do?” We exchanged greetings with this very precise gentleman, who went on, “My

name is Gregory. At least that is one of my names and will suffice, I hope, for it happens to

be one of my earthly names and one which I preferred.

“I was a member of the Church, and I came here in 1827 when I was nearly eighty. I was

born in what you call the 18th century, and for many years I preached the Gospel. I did not

have any of this experience that you term Spiritism . . . that’s a term,” he hastily assured us.

“I sometimes wonder when I go to some of these meetings, how much spirituality there is in

this Spiritism! There seems very little, but I am not being personal, I am trying to indicate

over a long period I have been in the habit of visiting séances . . . meetings . . . and I must

admit there is a great dearth of mediums of any merit. There are plenty of these so-called

instruments who, quite frankly, are of little credit to the subject, and the work.”

I hope Gregory will forgive me if I put in an observation here, for the thought crossed my

mind even as he was speaking. If it had not been for the clergy of the various Churches

throughout the ages, we would have many more eminent mediums today. Mediumship is an

hereditary gift, and the Church must be held responsible for the dearth to which Gregory

referred, because for years mediums were burnt at the stake as heretics and witches.

He continued: “What I really came to tell you about. . . I do hope you don’t think I’m a longwinded

old so-and-so. I was brought to your meetings some while ago, and I was very

intrigued and struck by your sincerity, which is so important. I think you should have great

success, judging by the souls who are attracted to your group where the conditions and

atmosphere are excellent.

“Of course my history goes back a long time. I was born in the 1740s and I remember the

French Revolution, but when I say I remember it I do not mean I was associated with it, but I

lived through that period—in this country of course. I must tell you another time of various

things that will interest you, because in a round-about way they link up with your little group.

That is one reason why I was brought to you.” Stanley asked him if he had been connected

with the Church in London. “I was, for a number of years, and also with Canterbury . . . I will

tell you of this another time. I know you are waiting for a special soul and I would not inhibit

your sitting in any way. Bless you.”

We have made enquiries from the Public Library and Royal Museum at Canterbury, where

the City Librarian very kindly searched through the cathedral records. Naturally he looked for

the surname Gregory, and found two between 1764 and 1803, but we could not take our

investigations further because we lacked sufficient information.

Gregory had hardly ceased speaking when Rudy burst through full of excitement, and the

rest of the time was devoted to the coming holiday. I have never known him be so exuberant

and in consequence get so involved with his English. He could not put it into orderly fashion,

and we had many a laugh at his expense. Another strange mannerism made itself apparent

and that was the way he jumped from one subject to another. He suggested that we should

sit in circle on the anniversary of August 23rd, and be promised to be with us at the prearranged

time, and with the party in Casteilaneta at mid-day. Then quite suddenly he asked

me how I had got the photograph of him in the costume worn in the film “The Young Rajah.”

The fact was I did not possess such a thing! Yet within the month one was presented to me

gratis by the editor of a newspaper. Now he said, “What about the locket?” I had no idea

what he meant, and it ensued that he was hoping to make a present to me of a locket, and

was under the impression he had already mentioned it at a previous sitting. This gift has not

materialised, but it was in connection with an article written about a locket which Valentino

was purported to carry with him that resulted in the photograph of the Rajah being sent to

me!

Again the conversation went off at a tangent. “I haven’t forgotten about the poetry,” he said.

“What poetry?” I asked stupidly.

The poetry I am going to write through you!”

This was news to me, but I tried to rise to the occasion by saying hopefully, “Can you do

this?”

“Of course! I will impress you occasionally when you least expect it.

“The serenade of a thousand years ago . . .“ (and we spoke the lines together):

The song of a hushed lip

Lives forever in the glass of today

Wherein we see the reflection of it

If we but brush away

The cobwebs of a doubting faith.

(“Daydreams “—R. Valentino)

“Meselope wrote that through you!” I said.

“Yes, and through you, I, Meselope, Blackfeather and others will soon write, and one day . . .

SPEAK! I have to go in a minute, but don’t forget I shall be with you all on the 23rd, in the

evening with the circle, and with the rest in Castellaneta at mid-day especially. God bless

you.”

Before a week had passed I had written a poem which had come laboriously into my mind

while I was doing some ironing. To anyone who is gifted in this direction it would mean very

little, but to me who could hardly rhyme “June” with “moon” it was a wonderful thing. A week

later another came, and yet another. At first I would be aware of a throbbing through my

head; often I would see the subject clairvoyantly and then as I picked up paper and pencil

the words would come, but not always in the right order. If conditions were difficult only two

lines at a time would be given, and usually I sensed the identity of the communicator. When

the “Hiawatha” beat began to sound I had to drop whatever I was doing and grab pencil and

paper. The poem “Prayer” by Blackfeather was done in eight minutes with not a single

alteration, whereas “Light” took a day to complete.

I quote a few to illustrate the various styles, and with Rudy’s poem “Dreaming” he conveyed

that there would be another verse to follow which came a month later! One verse of the

poem “Love” he put through while I was peeling potatoes! I did not expect more than one

verse but another was added three weeks afterwards. There are sixteen poems altogether

so far, and they will be published at a later date under the title of “Falling Leaves.”

Love is a jewel which lies locked in the earth

Undiscovered by man, a thing without worth.

It does not arise to the surface above

With its own strength alone, for not even love

Can wholly exist, without being sought,

Polished, and fashioned, and skilfully wrought,

By sweat and by toil, unearthed through the tears

That harass the soul, throughout the long years.

It cannot be purchased by dealers for cash

For buying and selling as though it were trash.

The jewel that is love has its own special value;

The treasure of Spirit, as I often tell you,

Is shining and bright, long after the setting

Has withered and gone, and not even the fretting

Can diminish the gleam, nor tarnish the gold,

Of the jewel that is yours, to have, and to hold.

Prayer is like the plume of grey smoke

Rising from the campfire’s warmth,

Curling upwards to the Heavens

Like a skein of flying swan.

Upward, onward to the Heavens

Go the prayers of many brothers.

From the far lands ‘cross the water

From the cold lands ‘neath the snow,

Each has got his own expression,

May be wood, or even stone.

Yet to each is given language,

Language sweet with which to voice,

Prayers of thanks for all in Nature

Be it jungle, forest, plain,

Each as lovely as the other,

Neither one a better choice.

So it is the voice of brothers

Merge together, like the waters

Sweeping down towards the sea.

Foam-flecked waters; rising spray mist;

Voice of brothers, praisin Thee.

Like melting dew on the grass at morn

Are dreams that fade with the break of dawn.

But there are others, vivid and bright,

That linger as clear as the sun’s own light,

Which span the years and go back in Time

To distant lands when you were mine.

Where shifting sands turn the world to gold,

There was born the love that will ne’er grow cold.

How often it seems we have passed this way

Though the memories fade as at break of day,

The dreams are gone that beset the night,

The bitter, the sweet, yet all unite

To enrich the soul and set it free,

To recapture the joy of when you loved me.

And in songs and legends will ever be told

Our own love story; now centuries old.

“Let there be light,” it once was said,

And aeons ago through vastness there sped

From Source Divine a creative thought

That gathered around it lines of force,

And built the form of the embryo Mind

Which already enclosed the germ of Mankind.

Long ages passed in the darkness of space

Ere diminutive atoms began to pulsate,

For nothing is void and nothing is still

All must conform to the original Will,

Each miniature system reflecting the Whole

But not ready yet to nurture a soul.

Came change and reaction, fusion and heat;

Slowly the nuclei started to beat,

Consciousness dawned by the power to create

Always the smaller reflecting the Great.

A plan was in action, the spiral begun,

The stage set for Man, with the birth of the sun.

Now, the Mind of the Master conscious of all Rallies

His workers and re-echoes the call. “Let there be light,” as it once was said

And the living inspired by the so-called dead

Shall illumine the world and set it free,

And a myriad Souls shall return unto Thee.