Never lose faith that out of this tragedy will come the guerdon of the world’s desire. I see it, I live for it (for I live more vitally than you); and that you may see and live for it also I struggle against the lightness of my present body, that has a tendency to carry me away from the dense regions where you suffer and pray, you men of earth. You who have followed me from those early days when I wrote you letters from the lower astral world, describing as a traveller in a strange country the things I had seen; you who followed me through the hells of astral turmoil during the early months of the war, follow me yet a little further. I will show you the way as it has been shown to me. And you will walk in that way, though stumbling at first and groping for the thread of purpose through the labyrinth of reconstruction, in the days that shall be called days of peace. For perfect peace will not come at once. You will have to work for it, as you have worked for triumph in war. But if you have faith, you will ride the stormy waters into the haven of a new earth. And a new heaven will spread above the earth, for heaven is largely peopled from below; it recruits its population from below. No new angels are being created now. The outgoing Breath rests, and the indrawing Breath is about to begin. You who have practised “yogi breathing” know how difficult it is to hold the breath _out_ for more than a short time. It can only be done by force of will. The tendency is to return, as the tendency in the race is to return towards the Source from which it came. It is therefore I say that you cannot retard, save for a little while, the flow of the race-breath towards harmony and peace and love. This struggle of men with each other in the selfishness of separation is like the struggle of the yogi not to inbreathe--the young and inexperienced yogi; for the wise one breathes at stated intervals, and knows when the period is full. The race knows. It will follow the law of the outflow and inflow. You cannot prevent it. So yield yourselves to the current that would carry you back to God. It will not be a hurried journey, for the inflowing breath is measured too. There will be time for labor and for rest, and to gather flowers by the way. Do you fear the return to God, however slow it may be? I who have tasted death know there is nothing to fear; and I who have tasted the new life tell you there is everything to hope. LETTER XXIII THE STARS OF MAN’S DESTINY _November 24, 1917._