Fratres et Sorores - "it is later than we think!"

There is a sound of a going in the mulberry tops!

There is a stirring and a whispering behind the Veil of visible things. There is a rending of the Veil, and strange are the sights we behold thereby. There is a murmur of multitudinous voices - and there are voices which cry aloud thru all the world, imploring us with countless repetitions.

They say to us, "We are the innumerable company of the dead - the dead who are more alive than all you foolish folk who walk in dreams. Among us are many who love you, and others who are indifferent, and still others who hate all fellow-beings with the strength of their iniquity. They are those who cry havoc upon the nations, invoking the agonies of universal war."

The manifestation of every plane comes forth from the Invisible and Intangible. As truly as light, electricity, and gravity, and the firm-seeming illusion of matter are the showing-forth of unseen Powers, so the aspirations and the lusts, the fears and desires, the love and hatred of man, are fanned and fed or starved and stifled by the legions of the disseminate ones. Listen, and learn, and choose, fratres et sorores! Choose your allegiance with wisdom and right knowledge. Put your hand now to the wheel of this turning - for it is later than we think!

What is the thing to know above all else, in these strange and secret years? What words do we read here, in the colophon of the tale of our civilization? That religion has deceived us, that philosophy is a barren spouse, that science has sowed dragon's teeth, and the growth thereof is but half harvested. That the voices of the dead fill the world most audibly, that the veil of the mysteries is a hand-breadth parted - and that Black and White come now, come now to the thunders of apocalyptic conflict.

Choose, fratres et sorores, you who know! You who are awake amid the dreamers, or half-awake and stirring before this dawn. Choose your allegiance, serve humanity, keep incessant vigil in the city of Mansoul, stretch forth hands of welcome to the half-seen Helpers at the gates. It is later than we think, my brothers - but not too late to learn, to strive, to unite, to be steadfast, to lighten in some measure the obscurity of our coigns of the twilight.