Besant left; Leadbeater center, Krishnamurti right

From The Lives of Alcyone

Chapter 13; The Thirteenth Life.

by Annie Besant and Charles W. Leadbeater

Reverse Spins Introduction: One of the more fascinating chapters from The Lives of Alcyone is included in its entirety below. The book is about the past lives of J. Krishnamurti. As incredible as it may seem, Besant and Leadbeater tracked 48 of his previous lives. The interplay of karma and the interaction of personal lives is fascinating to behold as the soul known as Alcyone (Krishnamurti) is traced back through the millennia even to ages long forgotten. This chapter begins in Ireland which was on the northern frontier of Atlantis. The exploits of Alcyone's grandfather begin the chapter. He is supposedly, Lord Maitreya. In the story he makes his way to a great city, Manoa, far, far away to an unknown land in the east. According to the authors, this is the White City or Shamballa which was built in the middle of the Gobi Sea. Much of the information that the authors supply should be regarded as suspect. The dates for the founding of the White City for example are way off. They say it was created about 70,000 years ago. It was more like 2 1\2 million years ago according to later esoteric traditions. An accurate portrayal of filial relations could also be in error. It is included below. There were a couple names I could not connect.

Alcyone's relations:
Date and Place: 27,527 B.C., Ireland, Male.
Father: Elektra ... ?
Mother: Brihat ... Jesus.
Brothers: Athena ... Thomas Vaughan; & Viola .... ?.
Sisters: Jupiter ... A Master now residing in the Nilgiri Hills; Neptune ... Hilarion; Osiris ... Serapis; Aquila ...?.
Spouse: Mercury ... Kuthumi;
Grandparents: Surya ... Maitreya; Dhruva ... K.H's guru; Mars ... El Morya, Vesta ... Minnie C. Holbrook.

One final explanation, you'll notice that root races and sub-root races are talked about. There is no prejudice intended. There have been six root races incarnating on the Earth. Each one has seven sub-root races corresponding to the seven major rays. If all goes according to plan each sub-root race embodies 2,000 years after the preceding one. The first being the Blue Ray which magnifies the qualities of God's Will, Protection and Divine Government. Things got off schedule however when the Fourth Root Race fell. Right now the Fourth, Fifth and Sixth root races are reincarnating together with the Seventh waiting to embody once we get our act together and make it safe for these souls who have never incarnated before. They have no baggage and it would be unfair to give them ours.

In this chapter and the preceding ones we have learned that, the Manu of the Fifth Root Race, Vaivasvatu, has been trying to upgrade the genetics of the Fifth Root Race. This has to be done so that every soul can embody more Light and God consciousness. Whole populations are moved to accomplish these ends. Then various groups of highly evolved souls incarnate together in the new locations. Such is the case with Surya embodying in Ireland. He has already had many embodiments in Manoa and is drawn back there in an unusual circumstance as you will see.

Before we begin the story, here are a few corroborating bits of esoteric info, one from Edgar Cayce and an interesting picture of a Chinese pyramid. Some additional information about the founding of Shambhalla follows The Thirteenth Life of Alcyone.

Map of the Gobi. Much of the Gobi is mountains. Only a small part is a sandy desert. Archaeologists believe that there are many undiscovered cities in the Gobi. Map and description from Edgar

From Edgar Gobi Desert Mysteries

The word "Gobi" appears 199 times on the Cayce CD ROM. It appears in under 100 life readings. Several Cayce readings call the Gobi the "Sun Land" and indicate that sun worship dominated. In March 1935 Cayce referred to a city buried under the sands of the Gobi, and in 1936 he called this city the "City of Gold" and the "Golden City." He also stated that this city would probably be discovered in the future. ... In a 1940 reading, Cayce referred to terraced buildings and temples in the Gobi.

A group from the Gobi was identified as having DNA bearing the "X" Haplotype in 2001. This group may be related to the Atlantean Genetic type and the Basques.

Editor's note: You will notice similarities in what follows. Sun-Dieties, golden domes, terraced buildings and genetic types are all referenced.

The White Pyramid in the Qin Ling Shan mountains (about100 km southwest of the city of Xi'an) from a 1945 photograph taken by a U.S. Air Force pilot. The capstone shimmered so much that the pilot thought it could be made of crystal. In 1912, a tibetan monk told two Australian traders that the pyramids were mentioned in a 5,000 year old text hidden away in his monastery. It was written at that time, that the pyramids were "very old." Although this pyramid lies far to the south of the fabled "White City" in the Gobi Sea, could this pyramid be named for that ancient city?

The Thirteenth Life of Alcyone:

"The next life of our hero introduces us for the first time in this series to ground which is now part of the United Kingdom, though the surrounding conditions were then so different that localities can be recognized only with difficulty. There were no British Isles then; the North Sea, the Irish Sea, the English Channel were practically non-existent; the Thames was a tributary of the Rhine, which flowed into a northern ocean somewhere near the Shetland Isles; one could walk dryshod to Norway, to Spain or to China, and the inhabitants had all the advantages and all the disadvantages that attach to being part of a great continent.

It is to part of what is now the island of Ireland that our story directs our attention. Most of that country was then a kind of plateau of no great elevation, and its mountains were somewhat higher and more rugged in appearance than at the present day. The population, which was but scanty, clustered round the mountains, or rather gathered in sheltered spots on the southern side of each mountain. A somewhat curious effect was produced by this arrangement; every hill which was high enough to give adequate shelter had its little township, built on the lines of the modern garden-city; each house on its own bit of ground, all religiously facing south and lying open to whatever sunshine there was. But the unsheltered spaces between the hills were comparatively uninhabited, at least by the ruling race, for they were either mighty forests or desolate wind-swept downs. The ruling race, to which all our characters belonged, showed by its habits that it had come front a southern clime; its members had an unconquerable love for sunshine and fresh air. It was a branchlet of that fifth Atlantean sub-race from whose ranks had been selected those who were led into Asia by the Manu to become the ancestors of the Aryan race. Its people shared the country with an earlier race—smaller and darker men, with broad Mongolian faces, who lived in villages of huts within the forests, and supported themselves partly by hunting and partly by a very primitive form of agriculture. In earlier days these forest villages had been continually at war with one another, and raids were frequently made in which the flocks of goats which represented almost their only form of wealth were driven off by the victors as spoils of war. But since the white race had invaded the country, they had insisted upon the maintenance of peace, and compelled the men of each village to confine themselves within certain prescribed limits, appointing from among the people a captain or headman who was held responsible for the maintenance of order among his fellows, and for collecting from them a small yearly impost as an acknowledgment of the over-lordship of the new-comers. Under this new regime the villages of that earlier race had become prosperous, their population and their primitive forms of wealth increasing rapidly. They accepted the domination of the white strangers without difficulty, believing them to be a semi-divine race, the recipients of many favours from their wholly divine ancestors, and holding them to be invincible in battle. The white men were kindly in their bearing towards their inferiors, but there was little intercourse between the races, and almost no intermarriage, though there was no law to forbid it. The country, though wet, was fertile, and not over-populated, and the tastes of both its races were simple, so that there was general contentment and much rather primitive comfort.

Not many decades before this time the white race had moved into the country from the south, and had assumed the position of superiors over the darker race practically without opposition. Their leaders had been, as ever, a King and a Priest—men regarded as to a large extent set apart from their fellows, so that their families intermarried in preference to seeking spouses among the ranks of their followers. Thus two great lines were formed, and from their younger branches a nobility sprung into existence. The offices were hereditary, and at the time that our story opens the holders were Mars and Surya. King Mars had married Vesta, a cousin of Surya; but Surya himself had gone farther afield to find his consort, having been led thereto by a strange and haunting vision. Among this race visions were common, and much importance was attached to them; and this one constantly recurred, and so made itself known as a veritable message from the Gods. Surya was but ten years old when it first came to him, or rather when he first clearly remembered it. In his sleep it seemed to him that he was floating high in the air, looking down upon a city of marvellous beauty—a city larger than any that he had ever seen with his physical eyes, or imagined as possible in his physical brain; a city on the shore of a great lake, in which near the shore was an island covered with glorious white buildings which seemed to his entranced gaze like the very courts of heaven itself.

Yet not to the wondrous island was he drawn, but to a large, low rambling house, which stood in an extensive park of its own a little way outside the city. And in that park he saw a little girl perhaps eight years old—a little girl of rare beauty, whom he somehow knew quite well and loved with an intensity of affection which astonished him. She stood all alone at the edge of a tank with massive stone walls, watching the sporting of some bright-hued fish that dwelt therein; and even as he floated low to see her face more clearly she leaned over too far, and fell with a cry of fright into the water. Obviously she could not swim; there was no one near to help her, and the wall rose sheer and smooth several feet above her head; but before she could sink a second time Surya somehow found himself in the water beside her, holding her up, and trying to swim with her across the tank to some steps which ran down to the level of the water. It was a tremendous strain upon him, for she threw her arms round his neck and impeded his motions; indeed, she all but drowned him, for his strength was going from him when after a last despairing effort he felt his feet touch the steps. Somehow they staggered up them, and threw themselves upon the grass; and the girl, who had not yet unwound her arms from about his neck, looked deeply into his eyes and gave him a long, loving kiss. And then—he woke in his own bed in far-away Ireland with that kiss still upon his lips, and his clothes all dripping with the water of that Central Asian tank!

So excited was he by the adventure, and so certain that it was a real occurrence and no mere vision, that he rushed at once to the room of his father and mother and waked them to hear his story, showing his dripping garments in proof of it. They were much amazed, and could not comprehend how such a thing might be; yet they did not disbelieve, for among their race there were traditions of rare events not quite unlike this—of priests who had had the power of appearing and disappearing mysteriously, of showing themselves at a distance from their sleeping bodies, and sometimes even of striking or of saving men who were physically far away. And Surya's mother was already predisposed to believe wondrous things of this noble and fearless son of hers; so, like another mother in later history, she kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. But Surya wondered greatly how he knew that girl so well, and loved her so intensely, and even then as a little boy he vowed that to her and to no other should his life be devoted—that she and no other should be his wife when he grew up to manhood.

The memory of his strange adventure remained fresh and clear-cut in his mind; and as he had some skill in drawing, he drew several portraits of the little girl, and also made a drawing of the tank and the house which he had seen. He had no idea in what part of the world these places were situated, nor could his father the Chief Priest help him in discovering this, for though the priests were the principal depositories of the knowledge of the nation, geography was not a strong point among them.

But though he did not know where she lived, he thoroughly believed in the physical existence of the heroine of the story, and resolved that when he became a man he would find her. He was a boy of many day-dreams, and she always played a large part in them. He liked much to be alone, and often spent hours quite contentedly walking or lying in the sunlight, and telling himself interminable stories in which he and she passed through all sorts of stirring adventures. By thus constantly dwelling upon her perfections he naturally fanned the flame of his love, and at last he resolved to make a mighty effort to leave his body and reach her once more by definite materialisation. He had long before questioned his father as to the possibility of doing this; but the High Priest had dissuaded him from attempting it, saying that such power could only be attained by a long and severe training which could be safely undertaken only by an adult of great strength of will, and not by a boy of tender years.

But at last his yearning became too strong to bear; and so one night, after an earnest prayer to the Sun-Deity, he cast himself upon his bed and entered into the great endeavour, determined to succeed or die in the essaying. After long strain it seemed to him that something snapped, and at once he was free from the body and floating in the air. Startled at first, he quickly steadied himself, and as he fixed his will once more strongly upon his objective he began to move with great rapidity. He retained enough self-command to notice the direction of his flight, orienting himself by the stars, as he had been taught to do in the physical world. The journey seemed to him a long one, and before its rushing ended the stars which had been just rising upon his horizon when he started were well beyond the zenith, showing that he must have swept round a quarter of the circumference of the globe. And then—to him all unexpectedly—he came out into rosy dawn, and saw by its sweet light the city and the island that he knew so well.

Quickly he found the long low house, the garden and the tank; beside the latter he alighted, and stood wondering what to do, yet willing strongly that his love might come to him. And so, surely enough, she presently did, for she came running through the garden and dancing lightly over the grass, followed more soberly at a little distance by a stately yet kindly lady who was evidently her mother. His girl-friend had grown taller and more beautiful, and when she caught sight of him she stopped for a moment, startled, and then rushed towards him with a cry of glad recognition and threw her arms round his neck. With a wild outflow of long pent-up feeling he held her to his breast, amply rewarded now for the weary waiting of the last four years; and it seemed to him that earth could hold nothing more of bliss for him, if but that moment might be prolonged for ever. But all too soon it passed, for her mother came up and stood looking at the children with an expression of intense though by no means unfriendly amazement. Releasing him from her embrace, but still holding him by the hand, the little girl excitedly poured out a torrent of information in a language entirely unintelligible to him, and the smiling mother drew him into her arms and kissed him warmly. He spoke to her in terms of respectful salutation, such as he had been taught to use to the great ladies of his own land, but it was evident that his new friends could no more understand his language than he had comprehended theirs. The mother spoke to him with several different intonations, probably trying various languages, but none of them conveyed anything to him; and seeing this, she took him by the hand and led him towards the house, her daughter clinging closely to his arm on the other side.

While full of the deepest happiness, Surya was acutely conscious of the fact that he was attired only in a single night-robe, while his companions wore garments of rich materials which, though quite unlike any he had ever seen, were obviously their ordinary costume. But he was fortunately consoled by the thought that, as they must regard him as a foreigner from some unknown country, they might suppose the customs of that country in the way of dress to be simpler than their own. The house into which they brought him was more sumptuously furnished than those to which he was accustomed; and when presently they took him into a room where food was served, he found both the provision and the mode of eating strange to him. He was an observant boy, and by covertly watching the methods of his entertainers he was able to get through the meal creditably, and he found the victuals palatable, though their flavours were entirely new to him. Just as breakfast was finished, a tall commanding-looking man entered, and was effusively greeted by the little girl, who at once presented her boy friend to him. He first placed his hand on Surya's head as though in blessing, and then held him by the shoulders and gazed long and earnestly into his eyes with a piercing look that seemed to read into his soul. The scrutiny was satisfactory, for he drew him to his breast, enfolded him in a warm embrace, and then again blessed him. He also spoke to him in several languages, but in none which he could comprehend; and after listening to a long story excitedly told by the girl with occasional confirmatory interjections from the mother, he smiled kindly upon Surya, and left the room.

The little girl then drew him out into the garden, guided him to an exquisitely carved stone seat, sat down beside him and began to try to establish some sort of communication with him. First she pointed to herself and recited several times a word which he took to be her name, and she seemed much pleased when he repeated it after her. Then she pointed to him, and evidently asked his name ; he spoke it, and after several trials she was able to say it accurately. Then she began to point to various objects, evidently giving him the names of them in her tongue, and he picked them up quickly, although the intonation of the language was quite different from his own. Many other words she made him learn, at whose meaning he could only guess; but in the course of two or three hours he had accumulated quite a number of detached words and several little phrases about the signification of which he was by no means certain. Presently the mother came out to them; and when she heard what they were doing, she joined in the attempt to explain. Suddenly, while all three were deeply interested in his efforts to pronounce some unusually difficult word, an extraordinary feeling overwhelmed him; he sunk into a few moments of curious whirling rushing unconsciousness, and awakened out of it to a sense of weakness and lassitude such as he had never before known. He found himself lying on his own bed at home in Ireland, with his own mother bending over him, evidently much perturbed at his condition.

It was some minutes before he was able to speak, and then he asked faintly where the little girl was. At first no one under-stood him, but presently his mother realised that he must be referring to what they had called his dream. He was anxious to tell his story, yet felt too weak to talk; seeing that, his mother soothed him, and in a little while got him to sleep again; but if during that sleep he returned to his friends in the garden, he had no recollection of such return when he awoke. Clearly his violent and persistent efforts had overstrained some part of the brain-mechanism, for it was several months before he completely recovered, and his father and mother insisted that he should promise never again to risk his life and his reason in the attempt to force his way where it was manifestly not natural that he should go. He promised, though reluctantly, but declared his unalterable conviction that his young love really existed, and his intention to search the world for her. He carefully wrote down as well as he could the words and sentences that he had learnt, and asked all the learned people he encountered whether they recognised them; but none ever did.

Three years later, however, there came into that land a traveller of unknown race, who did not understand the language of the country; and because none could converse with him, they brought him to the Chief Priest as the most erudite of their people, hoping that he might be able to communicate with him. The Chief Priest was helpless; but Surya, who happened to be present, thought that he recognised the intonation, and tried upon the stranger some of his well-remembered words and phrases. The traveller's face brightened immediately, and he began to speak rapidly in the very tongue of Surya's friends. Of course, Surya could not follow him, but he obtained leave from his father to receive the stranger as a guest, and devoted many hours each day to working hard with him until each knew a good deal of the other's language, and they were able to exchange ideas.

He gathered that far to the south, on the shores of another sea, were many who spoke that other tongue; and because men of his race had not infrequently travelled to the Mediterranean, and some had even settled there, he hoped by going there to find someone who knew perfectly both that language and his own. So he asked his father's permission to make that journey; but his father suggested that he should wait a year, until he had fully entered the priesthood. He assented to this, but did not forget his resolve; and so in due course he found his way to a certain great southern city, where he had no difficulty in obtaining a teacher who could do what he wanted.

Now for the first time he acquired some definite information about the country of his experience; he met with men who knew the city and the island which he described so minutely, and were able to give him some idea of its direction and its distance—both of which agreed very closely with the results of such calculation as he had been able to make from his childish observations of the stars. But he told no one the details of those strange early visions or visits, keeping the memory of them to himself as a sacred thing. Only before he returned home he learnt the Manoan language so that he could speak it like his own, in preparation for the visit which he intended to make to Central Asia.

His father and his mother were reconciled to his undertaking this long journey, though the latter begged him not to go quite yet, but to postpone it for a few years. The date of his departure was eventually determined by yet another vision, though it was of a different kind from the others. This time he found himself not in the garden but in the house, and in an inner room of it which he had not previously visited. He had had no special intention of going to Manoa that night (though the thought was always in his mind); nor had he any recollection of the journey; simply he found himself watching and listening to a conversation between his beloved (now a tall and beautiful woman) and her mother, and his newly acquired familiarity with the language enabled him to understand every word. He gathered that they were discussing an offer of marriage which had been made by some suitor of high rank, who was evidently considered specially eligible. The mother was half-heartedly pressing his suit, or at least enlarging upon its advantages; but the daughter would have none of it, and declared that she had no wish to marry. After the affair had been presented from various points of view, and the young lady still remained uninterested, her mother remarked :

"My dear daughter, I know exactly what you are feeling ; you have never lost the memory of your spectre-suitor, and you cannot bear the idea of unfaithfulness to him. I sympathize deeply, yet I also feel that we have absolutely no certainty that he really existed, that he still lives, that he on his part is faithful to you. Even if he lives, even if he still loves you, he may have been forced into a marriage in his own country; we know nothing of its customs; we do not even know where it is. Is it well to sacrifice your life to what may after all have been only some strange kind of unusually vivid dream ? You know that your father and I wish to see you settled, and you will never have a better offer than this."

The daughter admitted that her heart was entirely devoted to her spectre-boy, and said quite frankly that though she did not know whether she should ever see him again, she would rather submit to perpetual spinsterhood than marry any one else, for she felt that the boy she had twice so strangely seen was her only true mate. Her mother acknowledged that the dictates of her own instinct agreed entirely with her daughter's decision, though on the physical plane such a course could not be defended as sensible.

"If only he would come to us again," she said, " we could perhaps discover something more about him, so that we might have a comprehensible reason to give for at least asking for a delay."

Surya heard all this, and burned with eagerness to manifest himself; but he remembered his promise to his mother, and so was torn between two duties. Suddenly it occurred to him to wonder why he was obviously invisible to his friends, though he could himself hear and see quite clearly. Without understanding the detail of the matter, he saw that the circumstances of his presence were somehow different, and he instinctively felt that even if he had been free to make the same effort as before, it could not have been successful. So he turned his attention in another direction. He had lately been studying what we should now call mesmerism, and so it came naturally to him to try to turn to account his newly acquired knowledge. He exerted all his strength to impress upon the mind of the girl the fact of his presence, and in a few moments he saw that he was succeeding. She started, turned towards him, and peered earnestly into the shadows in the corner where he stood. He redoubled his efforts, throwing his whole soul into his fiery glance, and directly afterwards she uttered a loud cry :

"Mother, he is here! Do you not see him? "She rushed towards him, but her outstretched arms passed through him, and she cried : "He is but a spectre indeed; I cannot touch him; alas, he must be dead!"
With all his strength he impressed upon her the reply : "Not dead, but living! Within a year I shall come to claim you."

And she heard and understood, and eagerly repeated his words to her mother. Then he turned the current of his will upon the mother, and for a moment she saw him too; then the strain told upon him, and he vanished from their sight. But he was still able to watch long enough to see them fall into each other's arms, weeping tears of joy, and to hear them speak of his noble appearance, and say that he had more than fulfilled the promise of his boyhood. Then he returned to his body, woke up in great excitement and high resolve, and as soon as it was light went to his father and mother and told them what he had seen and heard. They agreed with him that his destiny was manifest, and that the will of the Sun-God had clearly declared itself in this matter. Indeed, his father publicly related the circumstances at one of the great religious gatherings as a gracious indication of the interest of the Deity in his worshippers, and he sent his son upon his long journey with an equipment worthy of his rank.

It seems evident that on his first visit to Manoa as a little boy, he was at first in his astral body in the usual way, and probably materialized himself by drawing what was needed from the surrounding ether; it may be that his intense desire to help was sufficient to enable him to perform that feat, or it may be that he was specially assisted by some passer-by, or by some Great One who was watching his struggle. The fact that when he awoke his physical garments were wet, seems to suggest that he borrowed matter from his own etheric double; yet we have no instance of such rapid action at such a distance. On the second occasion it is clear that he tore away much of the matter of his own etheric double, and thereby injured himself so that it took him weeks to recover. This however enabled him to maintain the materialisation for a much longer time than is usual, to eat and drink, and to repeat clearly the words which were spoken to him. On his third visit he did not materialize at all, but mesmerized the mother and daughter into believing that they saw him.

With such methods of physical transit as were then available, it took him almost a year to reach the city of Manoa, but when he arrived he soon found his way to the house and garden which he knew so well; and a very curious sensation it was to stand physically where before he had been only astrally. Enquiry in the neighbourhood had obtained for him the name of the lady of the house, so he boldly asked for her. When he was ushered into her presence, she recognized him immediately, and welcomed him with profound joy and many exclamations of wonder. Her daughter was instantly sent for, and when she entered the room she sprang into his arms with a glad cry of triumph and love. He was at once on the footing of a friend of the family, or rather of an honoured member of it; and he lost no time in enquiring about their side of the amazing story of their previous meetings. It agreed exactly with his own recollection in every particular; but naturally they had also to tell of the shock of stupefaction with which they had seen him vanish on his first and second visits. They had never doubted that he was a real living man, though only the daughter had been unshakably certain that she would one day meet him in the flesh.

Presently the father came in, and Surya was introduced to him; indeed, it was then that for the first time he really explained who he was, and from what country he came, for before they had all been too busy discussing his previous appearances to do anything else than take him for granted. His account of himself was accepted as eminently satisfactory, though his prospective mother-in-law looked very sober when she understood how far away from Manoa her daughter's new home would be. Surya was careful to explain that in Ireland there was less of luxury than in Manoa, and that their life there was lived chiefly in the open air; but of all this his lady-love recked less than nothing, caring for naught else now that she had at last found the lover who for so many years had been to her half-myth, and yet at the same time the most vivid fact in her consciousness. Naturally she had filled up by her imagination the numerous gaps which inevitably existed in her knowledge of him; and she was surprised to find in how many cases she had guessed exactly right, so that eventually they began to see that some sort of clairvoyance or intuition had guided her when she thought she was giving rein to her maiden fancies.

There had been so manifestly an intervention of divine power in their wondrous story that it never even occurred to the parents to object to the departure of their daughter to a far-away and unknown country; but they did plead for some delay, and eventually it was decided that the marriage should take place immediately, but that the newly-wedded pair should reside in the bride's old home for a year, especially in the hope that the first child might be born under that roof. Surya gladly agreed to this, and despatched one of his suite to return to Ireland and bear to his mother news of his safe arrival, his marriage and his plans, and ask her to be ready in a year's time to welcome her daughter-in-law. The twelve months passed quickly, and before they were over the hopes of the elders were fulfilled, for a noble son was born—our old friend Elektra.

When the time came the farewells were said, and the young couple, with their new-born baby, started on their way into what was to all intents and purposes a new world to the bride; yet so perfect was her love that she faced it without a qualm. The journey was prosperous, and a right royal welcome was accorded to the happy pair—literally royal, for Surya's parents had told the romantic story, and the King of the country had been greatly interested in it, and invited the travellers to pay him a visit. This was done, and he received them with every mark of favour, and would have had them stay long at his court; but Surya wished to get his wife home again quickly, to put her under the care of his mother. Soon Elektra had a little sister--Mizar, whom he had loved so well long ages ago, whom he was to love no less in the life now before them.

Thus it will be seen that Aryan blood was introduced into the family of the Chief Priest; and they further intermingled with the royal blood of their own country, for the King continued his friendship towards those whom he felt to be favoured of the Deity. He drew them into closer relations with him; his eldest son in due course married Mizar, while two of his daughters wedded sons of Surya, Elektra himself taking to wife Brihat, and Rama espousing Vulcan. Elektra and Brihat had three sons and four daughters, and the eldest of their family was our hero Alcyone, who was thus born directly into the succession to the position of High Priest, and had furthermore the advantage of a close alliance with the family of the reigning monarch. The work of the priesthood was very interesting, for it comprised not only the religious teaching of the people but the education of the children. All children in the kingdom learnt to read and write a curious rounded script, but hardly any of them except the Priests made much use of this accomplishment in later life. They had books written on rolls of parchment, consisting chiefly of epic poems and ascriptions of glory to the sun, which they worshipped as the source of all life and the symbol or manifestation of the Deity. Daily hymns were chanted to him at sunrise and sunset, and at certain seasons of the year special festivals were celebrated in his honour.

Elektra was a wise father, and contrived to retain the full confidence of his little boy, so that they were always very happy together. Alcyone was a great favourite also with his grandfather Surya and his grandmother Dhruva, and he loved nothing better than to sit at the feet of the latter while she told him wonderful stories of the city where his father was born, of its wide streets and its magnificent buildings, and above all of the marvellous beauty and sanctity of the mighty Temples, built who knows how long ago by the hands of giants and godlike men of old upon the mysterious White Island.

"Why have we no such temples here, grandfather?" he asked Surya one day. And the great Priest answered : "My boy, each race has its own customs, and its own ways of worshipping God; and so long as they acknowledge Him, it matters but little how. We have no temples because our wise forefathers have taught us that our God is everywhere, and that we need not set apart one time or one place more than another in which to serve Him, because our love to Him should be always in our hearts, so that every grove or field or house is to us a temple of His service, and every day a holy day upon which to do Him honour. We think that the trees and the sky which He has made are grander than any human work, and so we make them the pillars and the roof of our temple., For the same reason we have few ceremonies, because we think that par whole life should be one long ceremony of devotion to His service. You do not remember how, soon after you were born, you were carried up the hill in the early dawn to the great altar-stone near the summit, and laid upon it to await the morning kiss of our Lord the Sun, and how, as the first glad beam of rosy light fell upon you, I blessed you in His name and offered to Him as a sacrifice the life-long devotion of your strength to His service, and of your body as a channel for His love. And if you so choose, later on there will be yet another ceremony which will dedicate you in a new sense to a still fuller service, when you become a Priest like me and like your father."

Alcyone was satisfied; but he nevertheless resolved that as soon as he grew old enough he would travel to far-away Central Asia, and visit the great city with which his fate seemed so strangely linked. This resolve he duly carried out, for he made that journey, bearing gifts from King Mars of Ireland to the Emperor of Manoa, and be spent two years in the city which long centuries before he had helped so much in building. Perhaps it was this latter fact, or perhaps it was only the many stories which he had heard about it, which caused him to feel that nothing there was really strange to him, but that he was almost as much at home as upon his own hill-sides. His great grand-mother was still alive, and delighted to see him, and to show him the tank from which his grandfather saved his grandmother, the room in which his father was born, and all such mementoes of earlier days as very old people delight in. She was much pleased with him, and heaped upon him gifts of great value, so that he returned home after two years' stay in Manoa a far richer man than he had been on his arrival. When he reached home, it was he who had tales to tell to his grandmother Dhruva—tales of the country which forty years before she had left for the sake of love, yet had never forgotten even for a day.

Soon after his return he married his cousin Mercury, with whom lie had been in love ever since her birth, or at least since the day when, himself a tiny boy, be had been taken up the hill by his mother to see the consecration of the infant daughter of his uncle Rama. Not long after this came the ceremony of his own consecration and initiation into the full mysteries of the priesthood—an occasion of deep import, the memory of which abode with him through the rest of his life. The scene was, as ever, the great prehistoric altar-stone near the summit of the mountain which their repeated ceremonies had made so sacred; and the supreme moment was, as before, the falling of the first sunbeam of a new day upon the brow of the candidate, crowned with roses and lilies, to typify at the same time the love of God which he must preach, and the purity of the life which he must lead. The ceremony was performed by his grandfather Surya, and in the course of it the delivered the following exhortation :

"This is an important occasion in your life—perhaps the most important in this life, because it admits you to the brotherhood of those whose duty it is to keep alight the fire of devotion in the hearts of the people, and to hold up before them the shining light of a good example. See to it that you never falter in these duties, that you exercise worthily the power which 1 have this day entrusted to you. Remember always that this life is but one of many lives—one step on a vast staircase, leading up to the portal of the Temple of our Lord the Sun. When at last all the steps are trodden, when you shall enter the glorious portal, a splendid destiny lies before you. Servant of the servants of God shall you be, to help them on their way to Him, to guide their feet into the path of peace and happiness.

"But for an office so magnificent the preparation is arduous. For many lives in the past you have lived among us, among the Kings and Priests of the earth who are your true spiritual kin, in order that their spirit might permeate you, that you might become one in heart and mind with them; for a few lives yet you will do this, but before the end there must be times of trial, lives in which you stand alone and away from us, lives spent in lower walks of life and among those who are less evolved; for only so can final debts be paid, only so can uttermost sympathy be developed, only so can be gained the power which enables a Prince of Life and Death to pour out his own life in final self-sacrifice for the saving and the blessing of the world. For ever shines our Lord the Sun; keep your mind ever fixed on Him, and learn to see Him through the darkest earth-born clouds, so that His reflection in you may be ever steadfast, and in you His people may find an ever-open gate through which they may reach His feet; so that through you they may be saved from their sin and sorrow and ignorance, through you the little streamlets of their lives may reach at last the shoreless sea of His infinity, the ocean of eternal bliss which is the life of God."

Alcyone and Mercury had nine children—all of them characters whom we have met many times before. His first was Sirius—a daughter this time; but his eldest son was Corona. In due tune Surya passed away, and Elektra became the Chief Priest; and at about the same period Mars also died, and Viraj succeeded to the throne, thus making Alcyone's aunt Mizar queen of the country. Now that our hero was next in succession to the office of High Priest, he frequently acted for his father, and ranked next to him in power and importance. The residence of the Chief Priest was not at the capital, so the civil and religious centres of the country were not the same—much as, in England, Canterbury is really the seat of the ecclesiastical head of the Church, though London is the capital of the country. There was, however, no suggestion of rivalry between the two powers, as each had its own sphere, with which the other did not interfere.

Mt. Slievenamon, present day

The spot where the capital city stood in those days is not now identifiable, for it has been whelmed beneath the sea in the changes which took place at the time of the sinking of Poseidonis; but the mountain where Surya officiated still remains, and is now known as Slieve-na-mon, in Tipperary. The Priests of the Sun knew much of magic, and were well acquainted with the various orders of the naturespirits, as well as the greater Angels; and it was Surya himself who first gave to Slieve-na-mon the sacred character which it bears even to the present day. The arrangements as they exist there now were made by the Priests of the Tuatha-de-Danaan just before the Milesian conquest; but it is to Surya that the inception of the great scheme is due, for he first conceived the idea of establishing in the country a number of centres from and through which power might be radiated. Elektra and Alcyone understood these plans, and each in his turn carried on the magnetisation, and handed on the tradition to his successors.

The life of the times was spacious and leisurely, for there was plenty of room in the land and every one had plenty of time, and so it often happened that such Priests as felt so disposed climbed the hill and sat in meditation near the altar-stone. The common folk came there but rarely, though sometimes one who had some trouble, or some difficult problem to solve, would sit alone In that sacred spot and wait for an inspiration, taking what cause into his mind on such an occasion as the response of an oracle, as suggested by the guardian spirits of the place. This custom is eminently characteristic of the whole attitude of these people. Their entire life was permeated with the knowledge that close around them and in intimate relations with them was another world, unseen, yet ever present and always to be taken into account in every word and action. Indeed, that world was hardly regarded as unseen, so frequently did some token of its presence obtrude itself upon the physical senses.

The dead were not considered as absent, but as present in a slightly different way; it was fully recognised that many of them remained very closely in touch with mundane affairs, and were for some time after death deeply interested in the health of their friends, the progress of their crops, the well-being of their horses and cattle. The living did not fear the dead, but regarded them with a certain reverence, as possessing new powers and having in some respects a wider outlook. Sometimes people invoked a departed relation, but it was considered a dangerous and selfish act, and was discouraged by the Priests, who taught that when the dead could speak, and wished to speak, they would try to do so, and that when they did not, it was rash and presumptuous of the living to thrust petty earthly concerns upon them. Nevertheless, manifestations of some sort from the departed were by no means uncommon; and, as the race was on the whole distinctly psychic, there were many who constantly received strong impressions as to the wishes of the dead, and these were almost invariably carried out.

The existence of Angels and nature-spirits was universally accepted—indeed, to most of the people it was a matter of first-hand knowledge, for such beings were often seen, and all sorts of strange adventures with them were on record. I have mentioned that though every one knew how to read and write, but little use was made of these accomplishments. To a large extent their place was taken by story-telling, which was elaborated to a degree of which under modern conditions we have no conception—elaborated until it became both a custom and a science. They had no such things as balls or garden-parties, but instead of them they had what can only be described as orgies of story-telling. The neighbours met somewhere or other for this purpose every night, usually taking the houses of the district in turn, and the party settled down round the fire and composed themselves to listen or to narrate. There was a vast store of legend and of supposed history—mainly the personal adventures of certain great heroes—and another huge department of accounts of angelic or fairy intervention; all these were recognised and accepted tales, which had to be told according to tradition, from which no departure would be tolerated, and the persons who knew most of these, and had a reputation for reciting them dramatically, were sure of an enthusiastic reception anywhere. Besides these classics, there were constantly new narrations of present-day adventures and happenings—stories which had their vogue, and then either died out and were forgotten, or took their place among the received body of such romances.

Alcyone himself had some experiences of that kind, having seen the fairies at their gambols more than once; but the great fairy story of the family was a visit paid to some sort of underworld by his youngest daughter Yajna. When the child was about seven years old she disappeared one day, and though the distracted family searched the whole hill they could find no trace of her. Wild beasts, though rare, had not been entirely eliminated, and the first fear was that she had fallen a victim to some of them. But there was no evidence for this theory, and no such creatures had been seen in the neighbourhood for years, so presently suspicion took another turn, and it began to be whispered that perhaps the fairies had taken her, as she was an especially beautiful child, and it was known that in the past such children had been coveted and captured by nature-spirits. Her father immediately employed certain arts of conjuration with which he was acquainted, and soon obtained confirmation of this surmise, and a promise that his daughter should be returned to him unharmed if he would seek her in a dell which was indicated by his informant. He promptly repaired to the appointed place, and found the little girl asleep under a tree.

When aroused, she told a strange tale. When wandering on the hill, quite near her own home, she had come upon a little hollow in the hillside which she had never seen before, and had found in it the entrance to a cave. She had hesitated whether to go farther, because of the darkness; but while she stood looking, a handsome boy came out of the cave, and with a deep bow invited her to enter. She was flattered by the deference with which he seemed to regard her, and asked him who he was, and where he lived. He replied that the cave was the entrance to his home, and that he would gladly show her the beautiful gardens which were but a little way within. She wondered much, but curiosity triumphed, and she put her hand trustingly in that of her guide, and let him lead her into the darkness. He seemed to be able to see quite well, and led her unhesitatingly forward; and after walking for a few minutes they came, quite suddenly and round a corner, upon a hall so vast that it was as though they were again in the open air. Yajna had no recollection of seeing the sky, but had the impression of a pleasant warm light like sunlight. They seemed to be in a garden, full of the loveliest flowers and trees, yet none of the flowers or trees were exactly like any which she had ever seen before. The boy led her forward through the garden, and presently they came upon a number of other children, who seemed to be playing some sort of game, in which both she and her guide joined; but she was never able to explain quite what the game was, except that it was not like any played on earth. The merry party played and danced for hours without the slightest feeling of fatigue, and varied their proceedings by wandering hand in hand among the gorgeous vegetation, and on one occasion plunging into a crystal lake and splashing about in deliciously warm water. Yajna was deliriously happy, and earnestly wished that her brothers and sisters and friends could share her enjoyment; indeed, she asked her boy friend whether she might come again and bring them all with her. He laughed joyously, and said that they would be heartily welcome if they could find the way—a cryptic utterance which Yajna did not understand, but she asked no more, lest she should seem rude. Nevertheless, in the midst of all her play curious little twinges of longing for her mother obtruded themselves into her mind—doubtless the result of the anxious thoughts of Mercury while the search was going on.

Suddenly there came to them through the garden a shining form to whom the playing children paid great deference; he spoke earnestly to the boy who had befriended Yajna, and then passed rapidly away. The boy called to Yajna, and told her that her father wanted her, and that he would take her to him. She ran to him at once, and he led her away from the garden, and up a curious stairway, which led them out among the roots of a great tree, and so into the old familiar world of daily life. But somehow that world seemed strangely dull, and the very sunlight itself looked pale after the golden light of the cave. The boy asked her to sit down beside him on the ground, and when she did so, he put his hands upon her shoulders and looked long into her eyes. His gaze was kind though compelling, and under it she found herself sinking into sleep. Her last remembrance was that he stooped forward and kissed her as she sank to rest, and after that she knew no more until her father's touch awoke her.

She made repeated efforts to find the entrance to the cave, and the head of the stairway which came out among the roots of the tree, but could never come across the least trace of either, though she and her father and her uncle Naga spent many hours in the search. She was much impressed by what had happened to her, and tried again and again to get back into that beautiful underworld, but without success.

One day Naga sat meditatively upon the hill-side alone, and presently fell asleep in the sunshine. When he woke he found standing near him a radiant young man who looked upon him benignantly; and it was somehow impressed upon him that this was the shining form of which his niece Yajna had spoken. He accosted the man, and asked if this were so, and the visitor smiled assent. Naga continued:

"My little niece was so strongly attracted to the boy who led her into the garden, and it makes her sad not to see him again; cannot this be arranged? May they not meet and play sometimes as they did on that occasion?"

"The young man answered : "'Tell her that just as she loves that boy, so does he love her, and desires earnestly to see her; yet it is better that they should not meet, for they are of different worlds, and it is not meant that these worlds should intermingle too freely. If she came to us she would be lost to you; and she has work to do in your world. Believe me, things are best as they are. The boy will continue to love her and watch over her unseen. See, I will call him,"

In a moment a handsome boy stood beside him. Naga held out his arms to him, and he came forward and gravely allowed him to embrace him; his look was full of longing, but he spoke no word. Naga kissed him on the forehead, saying :

"Take that as a greeting from her who loves you."

Then in a moment the figures were gone, and Naga tried to persuade himself that it had been but a dream. Yet he knew well enough that it was nothing of the kind; and Alcyone and Yajna realised it too as soon as he told them the story. Many times Yajna dreamed of her boy friend, and often unexpected and inexplicable help was given to her in sundry childish difficulties; and she always attributed such help to his watchfulness. She clung tenaciously to his memory, and always said as a child that she meant to find him and marry him; but as she grew up the impression gradually wore off, and she finally married Muni—though she said that she did so only because he reminded her of her fairy boy more than any one else.

Alcyone lived as usual to a ripe old age, loved and reverenced by all the thousands who knew him."

End of Chapter 13

A genealogy chart follows which I have not included except for the immediate family which I listed at the top of the page.

Song of Shambhala, by Nicholas Roerich, 1943. State Museum of Oriental Arts, Moscow, Russia (temporarily)

The Building of Shamballa

By Thomas Printz, Bridge to Freedom Journal II, pp. 69 & 70.

In Eastern Asia, there stretches a great desert, today, over the land used by the Venusian Brothers as the habitat of their Cosmic Lord. It is now known as the Gobi Desert and was at that time a beautiful inland sea, in the center of which lay a lovely green and shining island, which they called the White Island, and which was to be the site for the building of the ageless Shamballa, "the home of celestial love."

The thirty volunteers from Venus, who had tied their soul's light into the wheel of earth's evolution, began the great task of building on the White Island a temple of light, to be the home of Sanat Kumara and his lieutenants. Laboring for over nine hundred years, passing from the outworn earthly bodies, but to return without the spiritual respite of a heavenly rest, they completed the old domed temples, the perfection of the White City, that was to be the marvel of the earth for centuries to come. How can mere words clothe the constancy of this service in a form that can convey the fidelity of those thirty beings of flame?

Finally, all was in readiness. The hour of earth's initiation was come. The Karmic Lords had bowed before the august presence of Sanat Kumara and his three lieutenants and awaited, in love, their visitation. Nature and man's elect were ready. The stars and suns of the system, for a moment, were stilled and the supreme sacrifice, in silence, was effected.

Out from the aura of Venus, the first great rosy glow of the expanding aura of the Kumaras began to suffuse the sky with the glory of a celestial dawn. Then upward soared a great five-pointed star, until it stood suspended above the planet Venus, intensifying the aureole of colors. All the souls on Venus knew that any cosmic activity of the great Kumaras was presaged by the presence of the star, which appeared to herald announcements or decrees of the Lords of the Flame, which would affect the progress of the great Venusian state. Every heart on Venus was focused on that star, waiting its message of the hour.

Slowly and majestically, there rose into the rays of the star, four shining golden figures, that stood, for a moment, pouring out their blessing and their heart's deepest love to the planet of their birth. Little did their children know the deep feeling in the hearts of the Kumaras as they bade their star good-bye—not for a lifetime, but for uncertain centuries, yet unborn from the womb of time. And then there rose a burst of sound, and the people of Venus, for the first time in the history of the planet, saw the star begin to move outward toward the periphery of their sphere. Within it, moving slowly and majestically, were the figures of the Solar Lords. All fell on their knees and a beautiful hymn of blessing and love rose from the inhabitants of Venus, tinged with the great sadness of parting, enfolding the departing figures in a mantle of most sacred love. Thus, the four Kumaras left the light of Venus for the shadow of the earth's aura. Of the seven Kumaras, four sacrificed themselves for the sins of the world, and the instruction of the ignorant, to remain till the end of the present manvantara.

Oh how different the reception was from the parting! The earth was spinning darkly on her bended axis, no hearts were up-raised; there was no song of welcome gratitude. Ah! yes, thirty small pinpoints of light, like faint, flickering candles, guided the Cosmic Masters' descent, and slowly and majestically the great pink aura blanketed the earth. What was the sudden comfort and hope and peace that entered into the hearts of men' What caused the withered flowers to raise their heads, the birds to sing with new sweetness, the children to laugh again? What was this mysterious, unseen ether that entered into the very atmosphere of earth?

Only thirty waiting spirits knew, as they knelt in reverent love, before the smiling presence of their longed-for Lord. Ah SANAT KUMARA, Lord of Love. One day shall we return you and your shining band to your own beloved star and, as you go, the shining light of earth will be a mighty crest that carries you triumphant, leaving us a star of freedom, accepted by the Cosmic Law, as a permanent focus of blessing in our system—through you love.

A Short Description of Shamballa

From The Masters and Their Retreats, by Mark and Elizabeth Prophet, w\ Annice Booth; pp. 467 - 468.

Shamballa, the ancient home of Sanat Kumara and Gautama Buddha, is located in the etheric realm over the Gobi Desert in China. This retreat, once physical, has since been withdrawn to the etheric octave, or heaven-world.

The retreat was originally built for Sanat Kumara, hierarch of Venus who long ago came to earth in her darkest hour, when all light had gone on in her evolutions and there was not a single individual on the planet who gave adoration to the God Presence or the Inner Buddha. Sanat Kumara was accompanied on this mission by a band of one hundred and forty-four thousand souls of light, who, with him, had volunteered to keep the flame of life on behalf of earth's people. This they vowed to do until the children of God, who had been turned away from their first love by fallen angels would respond to the love of God and turn once again to serve their mighty I AM Presence.

Four hundred who formed the avant-garde went before Sanat Kumara to build, on White Island in the brilliant-blue Gobi Sea (where the Gobi Desert now is), the magnificent retreat that was to become for all time the legendary Shamballa. This city was originally a physical replica of the Venusian city of the Kumaras. The volunteers from Venus focused here the one hundred forty-four virtues of the flames of the elements, composing a diamond replica of the focus in Great Hub. The "City of White" was approached from the mainland by a beautiful marble bridge.

The main temple of Shamballa is marked by a golden dome and is surrounded by terraces, flame fountains and seven temples—one for each seven rays—situated on a wide avenue resembling the Champs-Elysees lined with trees and flowers, flame fountains and tropical birds including bluebirds of happiness. The altar of the threefold flame is in the main temple, where the star of Sanat Kumara is hung from the ceiling over the altar. This, the principal focus of the threefold flame upon the planet, was established by Sanat Kumara when he came long ago. Through it, he connected a ray from his heart to every lifestream evolving on the planet, and thus assisted their Holy Christ Selves to raise mankind's consciousness back to the place where they could be taught the laws of self-mastery. ...

Sanat Kumara founded the activities of the Great White Brotherhood on the planetary level, and their headquarters remain here today. ...


1. The Lives of Alcyone comes in two volumes, is expensive and hard to find.

Health Research publishes the book for $49.70. They are photocopies and spiral bound. My copy is a little difficult to read. They photocopied a book that somebody had underlined. Go figure. offers the Health Research book for $48.50. They were offering free shipping for orders over $25. The Lives of Alcyone, Vol 1 & 2

Sometimes you can find a deal at ABE. I just did a search. Volume I was available for $18.95. The rest were expensive. once had Vols. I & 2 for $35.95.

2. The Bridge to Freedom Journal is available from the publisher here: Ascended Master Teaching Foundation

3. The Masters and Their Retreats, compiled and edited by Annice Booth, originally from Mark and Elizabeth Prophet.

cover at

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Other pages of interest here at Reverse Spins:

  • El Moryra On Lemuria, Atlantis and Ancient Civilizations
  • El Morya on Shambhala
  • Drugs, The Great Usurper of the Spiritual Path; An Atlantean Fable?
  • The Garden of Eden and the Fall on Lemuria
  • The Best of Esoteric and Metaphysical Literature
  • Karma, Reincarnation and NDE
  • another excerpt from The Lives of Alcyone:

    How Placement for Re-embodiment Occurs

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