Occult Tales by William Q Judge.pdf

Occult Tales

By W. Q. Judge

http://www.theosociety.org/pasadena/wqjtales/tales-hp.htm

Published by Theosophical University Press. Electronic ISBN 1-55700-134-0. Because

of current limitations in ASCII character fonts, and for ease in searching, no diacritical

marks appear in the electronic version of the text.

CONTENTS

1. A WEIRD TALE -- Part I (July 1885); Part II (December 1885)

2. A CURIOUS TALE -- (December 1888)

3. THE SERPENT'S BLOOD -- (January 1889)

4. THE MAGIC SCREEN OF TIME -- (April 1889)

5. THE WANDERING EYE -- (May 1889)

6. THE TELL-TALE PICTURE GALLERY -- (June 1889)

7. THE SKIN OF THE EARTH -- (October 1889)

8. TRUE PROGRESS -- (July 1890)

9. WHERE THE RISHIS WERE -- (January 1891)

10. THE COMING OF THE SERPENT -- (March 1893)

11. AN ALLEGORY -- (October 1893)

Theosophical University Press, publishing and distributing quality theosophical literature

since 1886: PO Box C, Pasadena, CA 91109-7107 USA; e-mail: tupress@aol.com; voice:

(626) 798-3378; fax: (626) 798-4749.

A WEIRD TALE

By W. Q. Judge

PART I

The readers of this magazine have read in its pages, narratives far more curious and

taxing to belief than the one I am about to give fragments of. The extraordinary Russian

tale of the adept at the rich man's castle when the infant assumed the appearance of an

old man will not be forgotten. But the present tale, while not in the writer's opinion

containing anything extremely new, differs from many others in that I shall relate some

things, I myself saw. At this time too, the relation is not inopportune, and perhaps some

things here set down may become, for many, explanations of various curious occurrences

during the past five years in India and Europe.

To begin with, this partial story is written in accordance with a direction received from a

source which I cannot disobey and in that alone must possess interest, because we are led

to speculate why it is needed now.

Nearly all of my friends in India and Europe are aware that I have travelled often to the

northern part of the South American continent and also to Mexico. That fact has been

indeed noticed in this magazine. One very warm day in July 1881, I was standing at the

vestibule of the Church of St. Theresa in the City of Caracas, Venezuela. This town was

settled by the Spaniards who invaded Peru and Mexico and contains a Spanish-speaking

people. A great crowd of people were at the door and just then a procession emerged with

a small boy running ahead and clapping a loud clapper to frighten away the devil. As I

noticed this, a voice in English said to me "curious that they have preserved that singular

ancient custom." Turning I saw a remarkable looking old man who smiled peculiarly and

said, "come with me and have a talk." I complied and he soon led me to a house which I

had often noticed, over the door being a curious old Sanish tablet devoting the place to

the patronage of St. Joseph and Mary. On his invitation I entered and at once saw that

here was not an ordinary Caracas house. Instead of lazy dirty Venezuelan servants, there

were only clean Hindoos such as I had often seen in the neighbouring English Island of

Trinidad; in the place of the disagreeable fumes of garlic and other things usual in the

town, there hung in the air the delightful perfumes known only to the Easterns. So I at

once concluded that I had come across a delightful adventure.

Seating ourselves in a room hung with tapestry and cooled by waving punkahs that

evidently had not been long put up, we engaged in conversation. I tried to find out who

this man was, but he evaded me. Although he would not admit or deny knowledge of the

Theosophical Society of Madame Blavatsky or of the Mahatmas, he constantly made

such references that I was sure he knew all about them and had approached me at the

church designedly. After quite a long talk during which I saw he was watching me and

felt the influence of his eye, he said that he had liberty to explain a little as we had

become sufficiently acquainted. It was not pleasure nor profit that called him there, but

duty alone. I referred to the subterranean passages said to exist in Peru full of treasure

and then he said the story was true and his presence there connected with it. Those

passages extended up from Peru as far as Caracas where we then were. In Peru they were

hidden and obstructed beyond man's power to get them but in this place the entrances

were not as well guarded although in 1812 an awful earthquake had levelled much of the

town. The Venezuelans were rapacious and these men in India who knew the secret had

sent him there to prevent any one finding the entrances. At certain seasons only there

were possibilities of discovery; the seasons over he could depart in security, as until the

period came again no one could find the openings without the help and consent of the

adepts. Just then a curious bell sound broke on the air and he begged me to remain until

he returned as he was called, and then left the room. I waited a long time filled with

speculations, and as it was getting late and past dinner hour I was about to leave. Just as I

did so a Hindoo servant quickly entered and stood in front of the only door. As he stood

there I heard a voice say as if through a long pipe: "Stir not yet." Reseating myself, I saw

that on the wall, where I had not before noticed it, hung a curious broad silver plate

brightly shining. The hour of the day had come when the sun's light struck this plate and I

saw that on it were figures which I could not decipher. Accidentally looking at the

opposite wall, I saw that the plate threw a reflection there upon a surface evidently

prepared for that purpose and there was reproduced the whole surface of the plate. It was

a diagram with compass, sign and curious marks. I went closer to examine, but just at

that moment the sun dipped behind the houses and the figures were lost. All I could make

out was that the letters looked like exaggerated Tamil or Telugu -- perhaps Zend.

Another faint bell sounded and the old man returned. He apologized, saying he had been

far away, but that we would meet again. I asked where, and he said, "In London."

Promising to return I hurried away. Next day I could not find him at all and discovered

that there were two houses devoted to Joseph and Mary and I could not tell which I had

seen him in. But in each I found Spaniards, Spanish servants and Spanish smells.

In 1884 I went to London and had forgotten the adventure. One day I strolled into an old

alley to examine the old Roman wall in the Strand which is said to be 2,000 years old.

As I entered and gazed at the work, I perceived a man of foreign aspect there who looked

at me as I entered. I felt as if he knew me or that I had met him, but was utterly unable

to be sure. His eyes did not seem to belong to his body and his appearance was at once

startling and attractive. He spoke to the attendant, but his voice did not help me. Then the

attendant went out and he approaching me, said:

"Have you forgotten the house of Joseph and Mary?" In a moment I knew the expression

that looked out through those windows of the soul, but still this was not the same man.

Determined to give him no satisfaction I simply said, "no," and waited.

"Did you succeed in making out the reflection from the silver plate on the wall?" Here

was complete identification of place, but not of person.

"Well," I said, "I saw your eyes in Caracas but not 'your body,' He then laughed and

said, "I forgot that, I am the same man, but I have borrowed this body for the present

and must indeed use it for some time, but I find it pretty hard work to control it. It is not

quite "to my liking. The expression of my eyes of course you knew, but I lost sight of the

fact that you looked at the body with ordinary eyes."

Once more I accompanied him to his residence and when not thinking of his person but

only listening with the soul, I forgot the change. Yet it was ever present, and he kindly

gave me an account of some things connected with himself, of absorbing interest. He

began in this way.

"I was allowing myself to deceive myself, forgetting the Bhagavat Gita where it tells us,

that a man is his soul's friend and his soul's enemy, in that retreat in Northern India where

I had spent many years. But the chance again arose to retrieve the loss incurred by that

and I was given the choice of assuming this body."

At this point again I heard the signal bell and he again left me. When he returned, he

resumed the story.

If I can soon again get the opportunity, I will describe that scene, but for the present must

here take a halt.

PART II

There are many who cannot believe that I have been prevented from writing the whole

of this tale at once, and they have smiled when they read that I would continue it "if

allowed." But all who know me well will feel that there is some truth in my statement. It

may interest those who can read between the lines to know that I attempted several times

to finish the tale so as to send it all in one batch to the magazine, but always found that

at the point where the first chapter ends my eyes would blur, or the notes ready for the

work became simply nonsense, or some other difficulty intervened, so that I was never

until now able to get any further with it than the last instalment. It is quite evident to me

that it will not be finished, although I know quite well what it is that I have to say. This

part must, therefore, be the last, as in trying to reach a conclusion much time is wasted in

fighting against whatever it is that desires to prevent my going into full details. In order

then to be able to get out even so much as this I am compelled to omit many incidents

which would perhaps be interesting to several persons; but I shall try to remember

particularly and relate what things of a philosophical nature were repeated to me.

As I sat there waiting for the host to come back, I felt the moral influence of another

mind, like a cool breeze blowing from a mountain. It was the mind of one who had

arrived at least at that point where he desired no other thing than that which Karma may

bring, and, even as that influence crept over me, I began to hear a voice speaking as it

were through a pipe the end of which was in my head, but which stretched an immense

distance into space making the voice sound faint and far off. It said:

"The man whose passions enter his heart as waters run into the unswelling passive ocean

obtaineth happiness; not he who lusteth in his lusts. The man who having abandoned

the lusts of the flesh worketh without inordinate desires, unassuming, and free from

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika: