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Lakshiman-Lepain - The Life of Thomas Breakwell
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Petition from Baghdad Baha'is to US
The Diary of Juliet Thompson
The Life of Thomas Breakwell
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Unknown - Details of the Baha'i Calendar
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Misc Baha'i : The Diary of Juliet Thompson
The Diary of Juliet Thompson
with a preface by Mirzaeh Gail
At 48 West Tenth
by Mirzaeh Gail

Whether or not General Tom Thumb (Barnum's midget, and at the start

of his career twenty-five inches long, weighing in at fifteen

pounds) ever owned the Greenwich Village brownstone where Juliet

and Daisy (Marguerite Pumpelly Smyth) lived so many years, we do

not know. At the time when we knew the place, Daisy was renting it

from Romeyne Benjamin, brother of Dorothy Benjamin who married

Enrico Caruso.

Like its fellows in the row, it was narrow and high, with black

railings to either side of the front steps, other steps leading

down to a long basement room, and a strip of garden in back.

Inside, up from the front hall, narrow stairs hugged the wall on

your right.

The old house, painted light blue when we last saw it, long after

the inmates loved by us were gone, might well have been the wealthy

midget's, as Juliet was inclined to believe: it was just such a

place.

When Daisy asked `Abdu'l-Bahá how to live, He said, "Be kind to

everyone," and Daisy was. The house was a haven for a motley crowd.

Here, Daisy's brother Raphael told me he had once, during the

Depression, left his bed briefly in the night, and returned to find

a sailor in it, complete with live parrot. Here, at one given time,

in an upstairs room Dimitri Marianoff, Einstein's former

son-in-law, who had become a Baha'i, was writing a book on Tahirih,

while Juliet was revising her I, Mary Magdalene on a lower floor

and I, at ground level, refugeeing from the family apartment

uptown, was finishing Persia and the Victorians. Here Daisy, like

Juliet a fine artist, sat among their many guests at the firesides.

Usually inaccessibly vague, Daisy would from time to time utter a

great truth. Once when her cat unsheathed its claws and raked

delicate upholstery, Daisy spoke: "Cats are more fun than

furniture," she said.

`Abdu'l-Bahá had been all over the house. His living presence had

blessed it all. In a dark corner of Juliet's whispering old studio

stood a fragile armchair of black oak--it would later be willed by

her to Vincent Pleasant--surprisingly small, with a cord across it,

none ever to sit in it again, the chair of `Abdu'l-Bahá. He loved

her studio room. He said it was eclectic, part oriental, part

occidental, and that He would like to build a similar one.

Here, Juliet had read in manuscript the books of her friend and

neighbour Kahlil Gibran. Here she had struggled with her love for

Percy Grant. Here, by my time, we talked a little about the land

in Chiriqui which (such is my memory of it) Lincoln had helped her

father, Ambrose White Thompson, his close friend, to acquire. A

rich tract of land in northern Panama it was, and Juliet believed

that somewhere in Colombia, which then owned the area, a government

building had burned down, and all the relevant documents about the

property had gone up in flames.

After her father's death, Juliet and her mother were poor. Juliet

could, of course, have married money. Many men sought, as they used

to say, her hand. Two prominent Bahá'ís who proposed to her were

John Bosch and Roy Wilhelm. Come to that, Mason, Admiral Remey's

son, whom `Abdu'l-Bahá wished her to marry, was not a poor man.

Juliet told me that in those days Mason had grown a red beard, and

as they sat together he would talk of the children they would have,

and Juliet would visualize, floating in the air about her, the

Remey Bábies, each with a small red beard.

Mostly, we discussed the progress or lack thereof of our Baha'i

community in New York and the nation at large, and one day we

decided that what our Faith most needed in America was the

qualities of George Townshend. Immediately, we determined to cable

the Guardian and ask him to send us George Townshend--a pre-eminent

Bahá'í who was the former Canon of St. Patrick's cathedral in

Dublin and Archdeacon of Clonfert--to travel nation-wide and teach.

Far from ignoring our doubtless brash suggestion, the Guardian at

once replied, with a radiogram received 19 February 1948:

JULIET MirzaA 48 WEST 10TH STREET NEW YORK
REGRET TOWNSHEND'S EFFORTS DUBLIN VITALLY NEEDED
SIX YEAR PLAN LOVE SHOGHI.

`Abdu'l-Bahá teaches that we must never "belittle the thought of

another" (Bahá'í Administration, p. 22), and although Shoghi

Effendi was carrying the whole Bahá'í world on his back, he did not

belittle ours, and he took the time to answer.

Once, when the powers that be were making life difficult for me in

another city, Juliet wrote them a letter in my favour. To this,

there was no reply. What status did Juliet have? She was only one,

the Master said, that future queens would envy, only one who would

be remembered long after the rest of us were gone and forgotten.

She was always a rebel. She did not hesitate to speak well of the

Germans during World War I, and to exhibit the Kaiser's picture on

her living room table. Something like setting up a statue of Herod

in a cathedral, at the time. In later years, she decided to rewrite

I, Mary Magdalen and make Judas a certain leading individual who

afterward lived on to receive great honours in our Faith.

Juliet was a Celt, from a long line of early bards, and she was kin

to Edward Fitzgerald, of the Rubaiyat. Her Irishness did not,

apparently, extend to that country's religion. She told me that

when her father was dying, he was by chance in the hands of the

nuns, and they moved about, seeing to it that Extreme Unction (as

it was then called) was duly administered, while her non-Catholic

mother wrung her hands. Reassuring, the moribund raised his head

and said: "Never mind, Celeste, it doesn't amount to a damn."

Rebels are valuable, but they are not always right. Once, contrary

to everyone's advice, Juliet's strong feelings about an individual

led her and Daisy astray. She made us all come to the man's talks,

or rather talk, which was always about love. We got so we hated

love. "No wonder he advocates love," was Harold Gail's comment,

"look what it's done for him." It had certainly given him Juliet

and Daisy, and only later on did they see the light--the light

being that his main interest seemed to be Daisy's bank account.

As the Guardian once commented, our World Order is founded on

justice, not love. Our governing institutions are Houses of

justice, not love.

The man did bring many to hear about love at Juliet's, which used

to remind me of Romeyne Benjamin's gloomy prophecy, that the

ceilings would fall in.

It was the unconventional, rebel quality in Juliet--this, plus her

sympathy and true love--that attracted so many to her, particularly

the young. All ages, sexes, skin colours, and degrees of wealth and

servitude, used to foregather at 48 West Tenth. Her name was,

incidentally, in the New York Social Register, along with her

brother's--"but I am only there as a junior," she laughed.

This unconventional quality of hers, frightening to any

establishment, appealed to the Guardian, as it had to the Master

before him. We remember writing to the Guardian once, about a town

where the activity was barely detectable, and he replied that the

situation was due to "the lethargy and conservatism of certain

elements in the community."

`Abdu'l-Bahá praised Juliet repeatedly for her absolute

truthfulness. On her second pilgrimage, when the Guardian asked

her, "Do you like the (Wilmette) Temple?" She answered: "No, it

looks like a wedding cake." She added, relaying the conversation

to me: "We used to call it 'Mrs True's church.'" (Mrs Corinne True,

later a Hand of the Faith, was known as "the Mother of the

Temple.") She said Mason Remey withdrew his design, in favour of

Louis Bourgeois', although each received the same number of votes.

Needless to add, the ethereal, lacy, floating House of Worship at

Wilmette does not look like a wedding cake, but Juliet had an

opinion and she voiced it. "Let us remember," the Text says, "that

at the very root of the Cause lies the principle of the undoubted

right of the individual to self-expression, his freedom to declare

his conscience and set forth his views." (Bahá'í Administration,

p. 54).

We read in her diary of the Master's telling Juliet "a thing so

wonderful" that she could not repeat it. In after years she

confided to Bahá'í pioneer Bill Smits what that thing was. "You are

nearer to me than anyone here," `Abdu'l-Bahá had said, "because you

have told me the truth." Asked what He meant by " here," she said,

"Oh, New York, the United States--I don't know."

This diary we have here is not the original, longhand one. She

destroyed that. She was essentially a private person and all those

secrets have blown away. This diary is the core of the original:

she kept whatever she wanted posterity to have, sat up in bed with

the portable on her knees and typed it herself. I was one of

(necessarily) few to receive a carbon, and mine has some of her own

hand-written notes in the margin. Some years afterward I had the

carbon professionally typed for the National Spiritual Assembly,

but years later it could not be discovered in their files. Also,

Philip Sprague mimeographed parts of it, but where that material

is, we do not know.

Still more years later, when Harold and I were back from Europe and

living in New Hampshire, I became aware that with so few copies in

the world it might be lost forever, and consulting with fellow

Bahá'ís we had xeroxes made, so it would stay safe. Meanwhile

someone--was it Daisy?--had brought out a handsome booklet, printed

by the Roycrofters, East Aurora, New York, and titled

`Abdu'l-Bahá'í First Days in America, From the Diary of Juliet

Thompson. It bears no date or copyright, is forty pages long and

contains only excerpts: a teaser, as it were.

The truth seems to be that during her lifetime the Bahá'ís in

charge of publishing did not cotton to the dairy. "Too personal,"

they said. They probably meant that there was too much love in it.

We understand this, but we note that the mass of the believers were

always eager for it. Here was a woman blessed as perhaps no other

occidental Bahá'í was blessed. Not only was she received by

`Abdu'l-Bahá in the Holy Land, in Switzerland and the eastern

United States, but she had an artist's eye and a writer's pen, and

thus, better perhaps than any, she was able to evoke those so often

irretrievable days and hours.

`Abdu'l-Bahá prophesied of her that: "In the time to come, queens

will wish they had been the maid of Juliet." Certainly she received

priceless opportunities, and proved adequate to her good fortune.

Love is not blind, it is "quick-eyed," George Herbert said.

`Abdu'l-Bahá likened Juliet to Mary Magdalene because she loved,

and saw, so much. She had that same storied love that Mary

had--that love which after all is the only thing that holds the

Bahá'ís together, or for that matter holds the Lord to His

creatures, or keeps the stars in their courses.

She says here that one early morning (on that breathless, ecstatic,

tear-drenched pilgrimage) she gave up her will, made over her

desires and her life to the Will of God, and saw how, when we are

able to do that, "the design takes perfect shape." Then peace

comes, she says, and "beauty undreamed of blossoms upon our days."

Again she tells how the Master once gathered the American pilgrims

together--they being symbols of all--and said He hoped that a great

and ever-growing love would be established among them. He knew that

their one main desire was to live in His presence, and He told them

how this could be done.

"The more," He said, "you love one another, the nearer you get to

me. I go away from this world, but Love stays always."

Juliet's death notice in the New York Times says that she was born

in New York, but the jacket to her book, I, Mary Magdalene,

undoubtedly more to be trusted, has her a Virginian by birth, and

brought up in Washington, D.C.

She was a cult figure. People became possessive about her, regarded

her as theirs and only grudgingly doled her out. This was

particularly true of Helen James, who came from the Caribbean area

and was a long-time companion. I can remember Helen angrily barring

the door to me one day, when Juliet was sick. It did not bother me

too much--I knew from mythology that dragons guard treasures. Then

there was another time when I had prevailed on a man to come over

to the Village all the way from Brooklyn, and record Juliet's voice

as she read from her diary. (On wire, it was. The business was new

then.) And Helen tried, in the midst of it, to break in from the

other room and let in even more noise, besides what was already

being reproduced from the traffic on West Tenth.

You can say for Helen that she was a true friend to Juliet, and

faithful. One mid-day, years after all this, as Juliet lay in her

bed, it seems that she looked up at Helen and asked, "Do you want

to come with me, and be with `Abdu'l-Bahá?"
"No," Helen told her, "I am not ready yet."

And then, as she watched, she saw Juliet die. It was 4 December

1956. They had moved by then, the Times said, to 129 East Tenth.

I was glad that she did not die at number 48.

The Guardian's cable, received by Daisy Smyth on December 7, said

"DEEPLY GRIEVED" and "HER REWARD ASSURED." To the National

Spiritual Assembly he cabled, "DEPLORE LOSS," and he directed that

a memorial gathering be held for her in the House of Worship. In

this cable among other praises he referred to her "IMPERISHABLE

MEMORY," said that she was "FIRED WITH ... CONSUMING DEVOTION" to

the Centre of Bahá'u'lláh's Covenant, and called her "MUCH LOVED,

GREATLY ADMIRED ... OUT-STANDING EXEMPLARY HANDMAID [OF]

`Abdu'l-Bahá."
__________

48 West Tenth Street was a house dedicated to `Abdu'l-Bahá. Often

when you were let in the front door, you heard His voice--the

recorded, spontaneous chant made in 1912--loudly reverberating

through the rooms.

One day Juliet took Robert Gulick and me up the street to the

corner of Fifth Avenue, and we entered the beautiful Church of the

Ascension that had once been Percy Grant's pride before his ruin,

and she showed us exactly where `Abdu'l-Bahá stood, delivering His

first American public address on 14 April 1912.

He came out of the vestry on the right, just as the choir burst

into "Jesus lives." He sat in the Bishop's chair--which broke the

nineteenth canon of the Church, for the unbaptized may not go

behind the chancel rail. The red plush chair with its high back was

still there, just as it had been that other day, although no flame

burned on the altar then. When He spoke as you looked past the low

steps to the altar, He was on the right, and He stood on the fifth

flagstone.

`Abdu'l-Bahá had told Juliet she must either break with Percy Grant

or marry him. She had broken with him. Percy had arranged this

meeting for the Master as a peace offering to Juliet. From this

very pulpit, to win Juliet away from her Faith, he had often

inveighed against the decadent East, had even denounced "the Baha'i

sect," but today he had filled the church with lilies and arranged

for One from the East, and Head of the Bahá'ís, to speak.

Juliet said that she used, in her story of Mary Magdalene (whom,

as `Abdu'l-Bahá remarked in the diary, she even physically

resembled) many things she learned from the Master himself. This

book has inclined many a heart toward our Faith, and Stanwood Cobb

considered it "one of the most graphic and lofty delineations of

Christ ever made in literature."

She illustrated her story with portraits, three of them: one

haloed, of the Master's face; Mary wears Juliet's face, they being

look-alikes; and the handsome lover, Novatus, wears the face of

Percy Grant. She was a serious artist, frequently exhibited, and

a member of the National Arts Club. She had studied at the Corcoran

Art School, then at Julien's in Paris, and with Kenneth Hayes

Miller in New York.

During the Coolidge era, Juliet's beauty and social background,

along with her artistic gifts, carried her into the White House.

(It is interesting to note how many Bahá'ís have been received at

the White House, all the way from 'Ali Quli Khan and Florence, and

Laura Barney, in the early days to moderns like Robert Hayden and

Dizzie Gillespie). Juliet was there to make a portrait of Mrs

Coolidge, incidentally one of the most popular of First Ladies.

"The President came in to watch," said Juliet, "chewing on an

apple, and I told Mrs Coolidge I could not put up with that."

The portrait she did of `Abdu'l-Bahá, described here in the diary,

no longer exists, except in a photograph.

Time-damaged, it had to be restored, and Juliet felt the original

was gone forever. The Kinneys maintained that He did like it

because He said it made Him look old. `Abdu'l-Bahá greatly

encouraged her art, and told her it was the same as worship, but

toward the end she no longer cared to go on with it, nor even cared

for her once-loved New York as it had become, and all she wanted

to do was teach the Faith.

Sometimes Juliet and Marjorie would recline at the top of Juliet's

large bed, while Daisy and I would sit on chairs at the foot. The

sooty warm spring air would blow in from the little back garden,

down where Rebecca--a statue picked up by Romeyn Benjamin--stood

scanning the horizon, endlessly waiting on her pedestal, left hand

to brow. It was one such time when the conversation centred on

Percy Grant, that dramatic preacher who, in our view, certainly

merits a biographer, not only for his small role in our Faith but

because he represents so much of New York history at the century's

turn.
"Poor Julie. How long did you love him?" I asked.

"Seventeen years, darn it." (In those days it went without saying

that the love was Platonic.)

And that is how, reinforced by Marjorie, Juliet told me how things

turned out for Percy Grant. Significantly, his end is relegated in

the dairy to a footnote. The story of it goes like this:

Grant was--as `Abdu'l-Bahá remarked to 'Ali Quli Khan, comparing

the popular society clergyman to his disadvantage with the fine

Unitarian minister, Howard Ives--a womanizer. (Here, `Abdu'l-Bahá

used a graphic Persian word.) His remark was prompted by the fact

that, as they were leaving the church by a side door, they

accidentally encountered the rector with a woman in his embrace.

Later the Master, father to daughter, even more graphically but in

other words, warned Juliet to the same effect. And in the long run,

it is of note that finally a woman toppled Grant down.

She was a Cuban--descended beauty of great wealth, whose luxurious

car would be seen outside Grant's rectory by day and night. She had

a dead-white face with bright, red-painted lips, and was a given

to wearing evening gowns which did not hide the fact one breast had

been completely removed, while the other remained without flaw. No

intellectual, she was what Marjorie called "eruditized" by her

association with famous artists and scholars.

Wherever Percy Grant went, she went, gazing up at him as he towered

over her, and calling him "Little Rector." Without his knowledge,

she spent $60,000 redoing his house. When she had their engagement

announced in the Paris Herald, his only comment for the press was:

No comment.

Next, she sensed that Percy was unfaithful--it was his chambermaid

this time-put detectives on his trail, and turned over their

findings to the vestrymen (the Episcopal administrative body) of

his church. On a given Sunday, when Grant was scheduled to preach,

they forced him to resign, and took down his name.

He was also required to pay back the $60,000, which wiped him out,

and at that time Juliet went about among the parishioners,

collecting funds to help. Most of the press, except for the Times,

was brutal, she said. No church but one, Guthrie's, St. Mark's in

the Bowery, would let him preach. In any case, the words would not

come any more.

As to the woman, she lived on, constantly under the surgeon's

knife, constantly giving sumptuous dinner parties at which all she

herself could eat was a little rice from a silver bowl--meanwhile

assuring the guests that this was simply the best way of

maintaining her (slim and lovely) shape.

At the very last meeting Percy and Juliet ever had--it was in a

drug store, and the conversation languished--she asked herself how

she could ever have loved him.
__________

With her final moments in the presence of `Abdu'l-Bahá, Juliet

brings her diary to a close.

On 5 December 1912, the ship sailed away, taking the Master out of

this hemisphere for always. Physically, He would be unobtainable

now. That was the last, sad day when He uttered His final spoken

words to America, words in time to be read by millions, then heard

by only a few. Florence Khanum remembered only four automobiles

coming to the pier, she and 'Ali Quli Khan being in the second one.

These two believers, as well as Juliet, although they could not

know it that day, would never look upon His earthly face again.

Juliet tells how, aboard the Celtic, more and more Bahá'ís crowded

into the Master's cabin, and how they all went above to a spacious

lounge. There, 'Ali Quli Khan translating (as the Star of the West

reports, giving his Bahá'í name, Ishti'al), the Master paced up and

down as He spoke:

"The earth is ... one home, and all mankind are the children of one

father. ... Therefore ... we should live together in ... joy. ...

God is loving and kind to all men, and yet they show the utmost

enmity and hatred toward one another. ... You have no excuse to

bring before God if you fail to live according to His command,

[Photograph of Juliet Thompson in later years]

for you are informed of ... the good-pleasure of God. ... It is my

hope that you may ... stir the body of existence like unto a spirit

of life."

Then the visitors slowly left the ship, and Juliet described

`Abdu'l-Bahá'í final look "as He bade His immature children

farewell." That loving anguish, those weary, prescient eyes gazing

from His thin, ravaged face, are clearly seen in a photograph taken

by Underwood and Underwood at the last moment--and Life Magazine

(11 December 1950) reproduces it, but with less clarity: the

Master's look, from the rail of the ship, at the upturned faces of

the American Bahá'ís. Somehow, with Juliet, we were able in after

years to have three full-sized copies made from the old

photographic plate, and only just in time, for it broke then, as

a messenger carried it across New York.
__________

They still return to haunt the mind, those vanished days and nights

at Juliet's. I know the steps of those long gone still echo there.

I know the powerful chant of `Abdu'l-Bahá: "Glad tidings! Glad

tidings!" rebounds from wall to wall. Surely all is still there as

it was before: the spidery old chairs, the creaky, uncertain floor,

canvases looming down in the dark, coals in the grate. Juliet in

gold brocade and purple velvet: blonded, fluffy hair, smiling blue

eyes, a man on either side.

"You are not beautiful," her mother had told her. "You are not

handsome. You are lovely."

"There is a magic in Juliet's eyes," Dimitri Marianoff said.

Mirzaeh Gail San Francisco

Diary of Juliet Thompson: Chapter 2 Chapter 1 Chapter 3

The 'Akka Diary
19 June to 27 August 1909
Naples
19 June 1909

In Naples. In an old palace on the bay--the Via Partenope. Palaces

around us, ruined palaces on the hills. Vesuvius to our left, Capri

before us. This is the view from our window, Alice Beede's and

mine. Yet all the rich beauty of Italy is as fantasy to me. The

Reality of the Master[1] glows beyond. It is to the Master's heart

I would fly! And we are going to fly there! We arrived this noon

and sail tomorrow night for Egypt.
26 June 1909

As I write I look out on Mount Carmel, the flat-roofed white houses

of the East with their bright blue blinds in immediate view.

What can I say? I am speechless.

Jesus from the ground suspires. This line has been singing and

singing in my head all morning. And yet, it is more--oh, far

more--than that. The Spirit of the Living Redeemer is breathing its

peace into the air. As I sat side by side with Alice this morning

in our high whitewashed room, gazing and gazing toward Carmel

looming up in its great bare grandeur just before our eyes,

suddenly I felt that heart-consuming Spirit and melted into tears.

28 June 1909

(We are still here in the hotel at Haifa, Nassar's hotel. I am

sitting in the hall, looking through the wide window at the end,

across twelve miles of the bay to the Holy City. 'Akka, dreamed of

for nine long years--the Mecca of my prayers--is before my bodily

eyes! I am absolutely inarticulate. What I have felt, what I have

seen, is too vast to be expressed in human language. I can find no

words great enough to convey the impressions of these last three

days--or two days, I lose track of time! And as yet, I have not see

'Akka! In His infinite mercy and wisdom and love the Master is

preparing us; in his gentleness. Yet even the preparation has been

almost too much for the human heart.

That first sight of Carmel, with its Mystery, the Holy Mountain,

"the Mountain of the Lord," broke me down. I am still overpowered

when I look at it, and as I grow more sensitized I will surely feel

it more and more. Here the Divine Spirit breathes and reveals

itself. I know now. Ah, the poor human hearts to whom that Spirit

is not revealed, to whom the material is everything, who cannot

know of the Spiritual Kingdom surrounding them, who have not rent

the veil! Will they believe me when I return to testify? I would

"ascend to the cross" for them! To breathe this Truth into the

world I would give my own last breath with joy. I can now

understand the ecstasy of the martyrs. I pray to be one of them,

to be worthy of their destiny. I know now what the Master means by

the Holy Fragrances. I have come to the centre of their emanation.

The air is laden with the Divine Incense--verily, the Breath of

God. It is almost unbearable. I am immersed, lost in it. My prayers

used to grope through space. Now I am conscious of a close

communion with a heart-consuming Spirit of Love, a Spirit more

intensely real than the earth and all the stars put together, than

the essence of all human love, even than mother-love.

Later
28 June 1909

I have been sitting close to the window--my window into Heaven!--my

eyes fixed on 'Akka. The phenomenal world has faded away. This is

indeed, indeed the Reality. That City in the distance, white in the

sunlight, has been drawing the very soul out of me. I have been

feeling the Power of the Magnet there.

Although we were to go to 'Akka today with the Holy Mother and the

Holy Leaves,[2] dear Carrie's[3] illness, which began last night,

has prevented it. (It is hard to write; the two little boys, Sandy

and Howard Kinney, are playing around me.) Carrie will surely be

well in a few days and in this illness of hers some meaning must

be hidden. We are all drawing closer through it. An intensely

devoted, united group will enter the Presence of our Lord. Now I

shall try--only try--to tell you of what I have seen. These

privileged eyes ...

Friday afternoon, the day we came, Amin[4] and 'Inayatu'llah[5]

took us to the latter's house on Mount Carmel, just below the Tomb

of The Báb. A simple house, flat roofed, square, white, its doorway

an arch above rough stone steps; at each side of the arch a cypress

tree.

Two women were standing in the arch waiting to greet us. One seemed

to be a young girl. She wore a straight white gown, and a white

veil half covered her heavy dark hair with its two thick braids

hanging forward down her breast. Set in the midst of that frame of

hair was a little pale drooping face with eyes too big for it. This

was Khanum Diya, daughter of martyrs, the wife of 'Inayatu'llah.

The other was a tiny old lady. Her gown

was blue and her veil draped close, like a nun's, around her

withered aquiline face, which was the colour of old parchment. I

seemed to be back in the days of Jesus. Both received us with real

love.

Soon Mirza Asadu'llah[6] came in: a frail old man, his eyes so

luminous that they lighted his whole face and made him appear like

a spirit. His smile was full of humour. Then his wife entered. She

approached us with a glowing love and took each one of us into her

arms. Her dear little daughter, Farah-Angiz, served us with tea:

honey-coloured tea in delicate glasses. Then Mirza Asadu'llah, in

his turban and his long black 'aba, sitting by a grated window with

a stone water jar on its sill, taught us in simple words pearls of

wisdom. And I thought of what Percy Grant[7] had said to me: "It

is not what the Master will say, not even His life, which will

influence you, but His personality." For it was not the words, not

the wisdom, but a great sanctity emanating from them all that

overwhelmed me--a tangible strong holiness, a heavy perfume of

Spirit in the air pressing down upon my senses. I cannot express

it.

As well as I can remember, these were the words of Mirza

Asadu'llah, interpreted by Amin: "Your work is the work of the

disciples. You are the educators in America. And you must not be

discouraged that you have not yet seen results. It is like the work

of the parents who give the best years of their lives to their

children and perhaps die before the children are grown.

An ignorant person would say: 'How foolish are these parents to

give their best years to their children rather than to themselves

and their pleasures.' Likewise an ignorant bystander, watching a

farmer sowing in his field--let us say almond seed--might think:

'What a foolish man to take this almond, which he could eat and

enjoy, and bury it beneath the ground, where it will only

disintegrate.' Yet one who has knowledge of seed sowing would at

once see that the farmer is sowing one almond to reap

one-hundred-fold.

"The most effective teaching is that which is accomplished by

deeds, not the intellectual teaching. Words have their station, but

the station of deeds is higher. The effect of good deeds is certain

to appear in life. It may not be perceptible at first, but will be

so at the appointed time. As a famous poet has said: 'Achieve good

deeds and cast them into the River Euphrates. Some day their

effects will bloom in the Sahara of Arabia.'"

Then spoke the wife of Mirza Asadu'llah, her strong face glowing,

her eyes full of tears: "I know from my own case that this is true.

Did I not forsake my whole family in Persia, to be richly rewarded

now in this kinship with you from the West? For each dear one I

gave up in Persia I have found many in America, more precious to

me now even than my own kin, since the true relationship is of the

Spirit. In Persia my little son was stoned: and see, Mr Kinney,

what a father he found in America--in you!"
"Love," she added, 'is the basis of life."

Her intense emotion as she spoke penetrated into the core of our

beings. We wept. I rose, bent over her and kissed her and she

clasped me in her arms and held me close. Then something within me

opened. A fire of love never before experienced in my superficial

existence was kindled in my heart from that flame, her heart. By

the light of these saints, these torches of God, I see how, even

in my deepest moments, my life has been but a shallow stream.

Mr Kinney asked a question: "Although a life of good deeds is

certainly pleasing to God, is not a life given to the Cause of

greater value?"

Mirza Asadu'llah smiled and answered: "These are synonymous."

"The divine qualities," he continued, "should be real and innate.

They should well up spontaneously from the heart. One cannot prove

brotherhood by intellectual proofs. Is a man your brother because

Isaiah or Ezekiel said so? Two brothers do not need to prove that

they are brothers. So all you have to do is to truly love one

another. That love will accomplish all things."

From this blessed household we went to the Holy Household to visit

the Holy Leaves. I shall never forget that little procession as

they entered the room with the dignity of queens, led by the

Greatest Holy Leaf.[8] She was all in white: the Greatest Holy

Leaf, the daughter of the Blessed Perfection.[9] Her face had the

look of one who had passed through crucifixion and was resurrected

in another world. In it shone great blue eyes, eyes that had looked

upon many sorrows and now were ineffably tender. Behind her came

Tuba Khanum, Munavvar Khanum, [10] and Edna Ballora.

[Photograph: The Greatest Holy Leaf with the Ladies of the

household. Haifa, early 1900s.]

Ah, what can I say? Nothing but this: As a bud that was little and

hard opens in the sunlight, so my heart opened to a wealth of love

inconceivable to the human mind.

That night we went again to see the Holy Leaves. They are staying

in the house that Madame Jackson[11] built. We sat on the broad

marble steps, Mount Carmel looming, a dark mass, above us. Above

the mountain hung the moon. Down in the village the little white

dice-like houses, each with its pointed black cypress tree, were

a pale blue in the moonlight. The bay to our right splashed its

waves on the beach.

I whispered to Munavvar Khanum: "What is that--it cannot be

imagination--what is that breathing from Mount Carmel? It is too

strong for me. It is unbearable!"

I covered my face with my hands. Munavvar pressed close to me.

"Ah, you feel it too?" she whispered back.

I have not yet spoken of Ruha Khanum, the youngest daughter of our

Lord: beautiful, like a strong Madonna--with a great outgoing

warmth--and so human. Next day we had tea in her house. The high,

airy room in which we were received is painted white. A

linen-covered divan runs around the walls. There are no

decorations--no furniture even--just white simplicity. The Greatest

Holy Leaf was there, Tuba and Munavvar Khanum, and two little women

in blue with blue veils on their heads, relatives of The Báb.

We had already had tea at 'Inayatu'llah's with Asadu'llah and his

family. Mr Kinney had asked a question the answer to which I must

keep. "Some of the Theosophists claim that Christ was taught by the

Sufis. How are we to reply?"

Mirza Asadu'llah smiled. "Could the sun be lighted from a lamp? If

such knowledge originated with Sufis, why is it that they did not

manifest it as Christ did? The churches, the hospitals, the

illumined souls that sprang up from the seeds of Christ's

teachings, why is it that these effects did not appear from the

teachings of the Sufis, if Christ's teachings were born of theirs?"

After these blessed visits, Amin took Alice and me to an olive

grove on Mount Carmel where our Lord often walks. Elijah, too, had

walked in that same grove and among those very trees, so ancient

are they. The sun was setting behind the mountain. The sky was

opal. Flocks of sheep and of goats driven by singing shepherds

passed us on the road. Men in flowing dress and the circleted

kaffiyyih approached and passed us. A woman rode by on a donkey,

a long blue veil on her head, in her arms a Báby.

That evening the ladies of the Holy Household came to see us and

we had a heavenly hour with them. Later in the night Carrie

developed a serious illness. The doctors (called in the next day),

Amin and a doctor from the British Hospital, said that it was

typhoid fever. There were unmistakable symptoms.

Carrie had been taken ill on Sunday night. On Monday we were to

have driven to 'Akka with the Holy Family. Early Monday morning I

hurried to their house to tell them of Carrie's illness and that,

of course, we could not go with them now. Immediately Tuba and

Munavvar returned to the hotel with me and we all went up into

Carrie's room, where she lay tossing on her bed with a terrifically

high fever. Munavvar and Tuba, standing by the bed, bent over it

with the tenderest love. "We will all pray for you, Carrie," they

said. "Our Lord will pray for you. His prayers are always

answered."

As Tuba bade me goodbye at the door of Nassar's hotel, she said,

"Tonight this will pass."
Munavvar too whispered, "Tonight."

At midnight it "passed". I was with Carrie when she woke up free

from fever. Tomorrow we leave for 'Akka.

But I have been very happy just staying here--perhaps too happy.

I have been afraid to meet my Lord. I long to see Him but feel

unutterably shy. How unworthy I am to stand in His Presence I

realize with my whole being. I remember a dream I had once in which

I was standing in Percy Grant's house and heard that the Master was

coming there soon--and I hid that His holy eyes might not see me.

That is the way I feel now. 'Akka
2 July 1909

I know I can only write brokenly, here in this Palace of the King.

We came here (can it be?) day before yesterday only.

My life is overturned by a cataclysm of the soul. Love for the Face

of my Lord fills my breast. This is REALITY, all else--a dream!

At sunrise of the day we came I climbed with Amin to the Tomb of

The Báb.

When we entered the Tomb the mystery of the Holy Mountain revealed

itself to me. Here was an essence, a concentration of holiness

diffused from this Secret Spot like rays shining from a veiled sun.

Yet, is the sun wholly veiled? I have never been able to look long

at the Tomb. It dazzles some inner sense in me.

After I returned: a knock on my door--and the voice of X! She had

just arrived, a complete surprise, from Egypt. How often I had

prayed that she might be with me in the healing Presence of our

Lord--and here she was in answer to my prayers! As she had come

without the required permission, we were obliged to leave her in

Haifa waiting for word from the Master. But He sent for her almost

at once, and now she is in 'Akka.

Never shall I forget that afternoon's journey. I was dazed, numb,

unable to realize--yet, afraid. For one thing I did realize--and

that was my own unworthiness. But the scenes through which we

passed should have helped me to realize, to sense, some of the

divine joy toward which we were travelling.

We were in the Holy Land. We were in a bygone age. We drove along

a wide white beach, so close to the sea that its little waves

curled over our carriage wheels. To our right, a long line of palm

trees. Before us, its domes and flat roofs dazzling white beneath

the deep blue sky: 'Akka, the Holy City, the New Jerusalem. Camels

approached us on the sand, driven by white-cloaked Bedouins, their

veils bound by circlets; or sheep, led by shepherds in tunics and

carrying crooks, striped head-cloths framing their faces. And once

there came a family, the woman riding a donkey, a child in her

arms, while a man walked beside her. The woman was wrapped in a

dark blue veil.

We forded the river Kishon, then Hebron, and at last reached the

walls of the Holy City, the City of Peace. Walls: walls within

walls, menacing walls. Tall, prison-like, chalk-white houses,

leaning together as they rose toward a rift of sky, slits of barred

windows set here and there in their forbidding fronts. Streets so

narrow that our carriage wheels grazed the buildings on either

side, streets sometimes bridged over by houses that met in an arch

at their second stories.

Suddenly a wide expanse before us. A garden. The seawall. The sea.

Our carriage stopped. I knew we were at the door of the Master. My

heart almost ceased to beat. I felt we had arrived too soon, too

suddenly, that I was too unprepared.

The curtains of the carriage were raised. In front of a great stone

house, very picturesque and rambling, stood a group of men in

turbans, long white robes, and dark 'abas (cloaks) with faces

miraculously pure--shining, smiling--whose hearts seemed to welcome

us. Then one with a very tender face: Siyyid Asadu'llah, an old

man, led us through an arch to a great inner courtyard open to the

sky, where two giant palm trees stood in the midst of flower beds.

Two stairways of old worn stone, one on either side of the

courtyard and diagonally opposite each other, led directly to the

third floor, on which the Holy Household lived. The railing of the

stair leading to the Master's room was vine covered.

As I entered the court, a great spasm of feeling convulsed me. My

unworthiness overwhelmed me. The light of the inner court was too

strong. I sobbed and bowed my head.

The Kinneys and Alice had gone ahead of me. I followed them up the

stairs with the vines, across a small open court with low white

walls, to a room next to the Master's. This room I was to share

with Alice.

Soon Edna Ballora came in. She took me to the window. Outside was

a large square of bare ground, four trees in a row at a little

distance; beyond these a street of tall houses, and to the right,

at the foot of the double sea wall, a long, narrow garden.

[Photograph of Siyyid Asadu'llah]
"The Master is in the garden," said Edna.

He was in white, seated at the side of a wall in the centre of the

garden, surrounded by guests.

My first thought as I saw that Figure was God Almighty!--such was

the majesty and purity. I then thought: King of men! Lion of the

tribe of Judah![12]

Soon He came into our room. He burst into it like the sun, with His

joyous greeting, "Marhaba! Marhaba!" (Welcome! Welcome!) And His

effulgence struck me blind.

Alice fell at His feet. I could not kneel. I could not do anything.

At last, I knelt for a moment. Then He led us to the divan by the

window and, speaking formally to me, placed me at a distance from

Him; while to Alice, again at His feet, He spoke with smiling

tenderness.

Sitting in the corner of the divan, now surer than ever of my

unworthiness, I prayed: O God, remove this thing which separated

me from my Lord!

Suddenly He changed His seat. "Biya!" (Come!) He called to me

lovingly, drawing me close to His side.

He asked me many questions, answered by Alice, for still I could

not speak. When the father of John saw the angel, he was struck

dumb for days,[13] and I was in the Presence of the Lord of

angels--of the long expected One, heralded for ages from the

mountain of the Lord.

The great overwhelming Spirit in Him, the Divinity of His Being

deprives one of all one's powers, even the power of sensation, for

a time. Yet He makes Himself so simple: in the mercy of His Love,

in His great God-tenderness, bends so close to us.

Suddenly my heart burst open to the outpouring from

His Heart, like a rose beneath strong sunbeams. A beam seemed to

pierce my heart. At that instant He flashed a lightning glance at

me. When He left the room, as He did almost at once, my breast

dilated as if a bird were spreading wings in it. I went to the

window. Just as I did so, Munavvar appeared in the doorway. "The

Master is calling you, Juliet," she said, and she led me to His

room.

That dear little room, wood panelled, with its white-canopied bed,

its divan, its simple little dressing table, and on the windowsill

two stone water jars: nothing more. He was sitting on the divan at

the end nearest the door, and when I entered, He beckoned me to His

side. As I passed Him to take my seat I wanted to kneel at his

knees--my own knees almost drew me down. But, fearing to be

insincere, I would not yield. He took my hand in His--His so

mysterious Hand--so delicately made, so steely strong, currents of

life streaming from it.
"Are you well? Are you happy?"

But my lips seemed to be locked. I was helpless to open them.

"Speak--speak to Me!" He said in English.

A sacred passion had been growing in my heart: my heart was almost

breaking with it.
"Is not my heart speaking to Thee, my Lord?"

"Yes, your heart is speaking to Me and your spirit is speaking to

Me. I hear, I know."

Then he inquired for the two believers I cared for least.

Of one I could honestly say when he returned from 'Akka he was on

fire.

"And he remained but a few days," said our Lord. Then: "Do not

think your services are unknown to Me. I have seen. I have been

with you. I know them all. Do

not think I have not known. I have known all. For these you are

accepted in the Kingdom."

My "services"--and He knew them all! He had "seen": seen their

pitiful smallness and the lack of real love with which I had tried

to serve. I bowed my head with shame.
"Forgive my failures."

"Be sure of this." After a moment He said again, "Be sure of this."

Then He dismissed me.

As I passed Him the second time, my knees did draw me down; my

heart drew me down to His feet.

Later that evening He came to our door, a blue door in the

whitewashed wall, leading out into the open court. We knelt in the

doorway, Alice and I.

"We are at home, Lord," I said, "at home, for the first time."

"Yes. Home, home. It is your home."

That night at dinner I sat on His left. Ah, the little dining room!

It opens on the court, at right angles with the Master's door. It

is simple and small and white and its two windows face the sea.

This is what He said at table, looking again and again toward the

window, sometimes raising those wonderful eyes to the sky,

sometimes closing them, waiting--communing with One Whom we could

not see, then speaking.

Mr Kinney had said to the interpreter: "We have no questions to

ask. We wish Him to fill our spiritual needs."

Then our Lord: "The most important thing is that which comes

through the Spirit--the Breath of the Holy Spirit. The soul through

the Spirit can realize the Kingdom. The soul can recognize and feel

the Love of God. Distance cannot prevent the receiving of spiritual

bounties. Hills and mountains cannot check that! Why? Because of

the chains and bonds of the Spirit. The sun is very far, in the

highest position. There is a great distance between earth and sun,

yet remoteness and distance cannot prevent its rays from shining

on us.

"Without firmness there will be no result. Trees must be firm in

the ground to give fruit. The foundation of a building must be very

solid in order to support the building. If there be the slightest

doubt in a believer, he will be without result. How often did

Christ warn Peter to be steadfast! Therefore, consider how

difficult it is to remain firm, especially in the time of trials.

If man endure and overcome the trials, the more will he become firm

and steadfast. When the tree is firmly rooted, the more the wind

blows the more the tree will benefit; the more intense the wind the

greater the benefit. But if weak, it will immediately fall.

"As Christ foretold, we will take the real food in the Kingdom with

the Father. That is the real meeting. It has no limit, no end, no

separation."
1 July 1909

The next morning at six we were called to early tea.

I wish I could give you a picture of this dear old shabby,

beautiful palace, become the most intimate of homes to me.

Opening from the little court, that chalk-white court, so glaring

in the sun, a great grey hall with stone walls and a mosaic floor.

A bare hall, except for the richness of the floor and two high

perches, a macaw on each--splashes of scarlet and emerald and blue

against the expanse of grey. Little birds hopping about on the

floor like familiar spirits. Opening from the hall, to the right--a

wall full of arched windows opposite its entrance--a very high

whitewashed room with linen-covered divans lining its walls and a

large straw mat on its stone floor. This was the room where every

day we had prayers and early tea with our Lord.

That wonderful tea hour in the fresh morning! First there was the

Persian chanting. Then tea was served. The Master always sat in the

right-hand corner of the divan by one high window, correcting the

Tablets dictated to His secretaries, the small, glazed,

ivory-coloured leaf of parchment in His left hand. Around Him on

the divan we sat with the Holy Family. Along the divan and on the

floor sat the families of martyrs, a number of children among them,

whom the Master had taken under His own care. The samovar stood on

the floor at the entrance on a Persian tea-cloth, a beautiful

happy-faced woman behind it serving the tea. She had deep dimples

in her cheeks and her hair hung in thick black braids, a white veil

partly covering it.

Her story was this: Years before in Persia, when she was a bride

fifteen years old, she was with her mother-in-law in a room of

their house on the ground floor when suddenly they heard a howling

mob outside. And then a severed head was thrown through the window

and rolled to the young bride's feet. It was the head of her

husband, a boy of nineteen. The girl fainted, but the mother

quietly rose, took the head of her son to the washstand and washed

off the blood, then carried it to the window and threw it out to

the mob. "What we have given to God," she said, "we do not ask

back."

As we entered the tea-room the Master asked how we were. Were we

happy? Had we slept well? "Here," He said, "you cannot be very

comfortable. In New York it is better and more beautiful than

here." He smiled and added, "There it is beautiful. You have parks

and trees. But here the heart is good."

"You have all received letters from me," He said, continuing to

correct a Tablet. Then, handing one to Munavvar Khanum, "This is

a Tablet to an American believer which I have just corrected."

In the Tablet He had said, "Thank God you are all helpers." And I

had just been thinking: Never can we hope to help this All-Powerful

Being. He had spoken of the Word of God as having created unity

among Muslims, Jews, and Christians and said that through the power

of the Blessed Perfection we had all been made as one soul in many

bodies, one light in many lamps; therefore we should strive to

spread and increase this unity and love.

Then He began to speak to us: "Thank God that He has gathered us

all together here. Before this Cause was established the East and

the West never met. But now, since the Cause is established in

Persia and America, the East and West are united, happy, and in

perfect love with one another. It is only a great Power that can

accomplish this. Formerly in Persia it was impossible for

Christians, Muslims, and Jews to be friends and to meet lovingly;

but now, in this same Persia, all creeds come together in perfect

love. I hope all will make an effort that this love and union may

progress." Then, turning away and gazing out of the window as

though He were looking into the future: "That all religions may

become one; all people be of one creed; all nations as one; that

all differences may be removed. And this is what I hope."

1 July 1909

At luncheon Our Lord asked for news of Mr MacNutt.[14] Mr Kinney

spoke of the unity in New York.

Our Lord said: "You have been the bearers of such good news that

I want to make you very happy. Good news indicates good deeds.

Unity is the result of good deeds and action. At the present time

there are good believers in America--sincere and firm in the

Covenant.

"Man first is like a pupil. He becomes learned. Then he becomes a

teacher. First he is a patient. He must attain perfect health.

Having attained it, he may become a doctor. At first you are

children. You become mature. Now you must be like fathers and

mothers." Each time He made a point He smiled His marvellous smile,

looking at one or another of us.

"I desire that each of you become so great that each may guide a

nation. Now the friends must endeavour to attain such stations so

as to teach the people of America. Divine qualities are unlimited.

For this reason you must not be satisfied with one quality, but

must try to attain all. Each of us must improve himself, that he

may attain nothing short of the best. When one stops, he descends.

A bird, when it is flying, soars; but as soon as it stops, it

falls. While man is directed upward, he develops. As soon as he

stops, he descends. Therefore I wish the beloved of God always to

ascend and develop.

"There exist in man two powers. One power uplifts him. This is

divine attraction, which causes man's elevation. In all grades of

existence he will develop through this power. This belongs to the

spirit. The other power causes man to descend. This is the animal

nature. The first attracts man to the Kingdom. The second brings

him down to the contingent world. Now we must consider which of

these will gain more power. If the heavenly power overcome, man

will become heavenly, enlightened, merciful; but if the worldly

power overcome, he will be dark, satanic, and like the animal.

Therefore he must develop continually. As long as the heavenly

power is the great force, man will ascend.

"I have met many of the beloved of God this year. Therefore I am

very happy."
__________

(Footnote added in Brumana, Syria, where I was copying my rough

notes: I think of Him often as sitting there at the table. I see

Him there often. But I cannot write of it. I found it impossible

at first to raise my eyes to the Splendour of His Face. But later

I had many marvellous glimpses.
2 July 1909
Early morning tea

After those first dear fatherly questions--Were we well? Were we

happy? Had we slept well?--He said: "Our real happiness is of the

Kingdom. Here we seek no happiness, because in this world happiness

does not exist. If you consider, you will see that people are all

in trouble. The majority of people whom you question have nothing

to tell you but of their troubles! Their hearts are not at rest.

And they cannot have this rest of heart but through the Love of

God. Therefore we must know that happiness exists in the other

world and not in this."

Still correcting the Tablets, He said: "There are many letters I

should write, because I have to communicate with the East and

West."

Handing a Tablet to Munavvar Khanum: "This is the Tablet in regard

to events that have happened in Persia."

He asked me not to take it down. It referred to political

conditions in Persia and prophesied that unless these changed and

union was effected between the opposing sides, foreign powers would

step in and divide the country.[15] After this, He said lovingly:

"It is very nice to see you here--that you have at last reached

here. Tomorrow I am going to take you, Myself, to the Tomb of

Bahá'u'lláh. I was going to take you today, but as I am busy and

have to take the Governor out, I cannot do so."
2 July 1909
Later in the morning

He sent for me. My self-consciousness, my shyness had made me feel

shut out from Him, but my heart had been continually crying out,

with ever-increasing love, to Him. When I entered His little room

and knelt at His feet and looked up into eyes of Love which I

suddenly found I could meet, He put out His hand and said, "Now;

now!"

I laid my head on His knee. The tears came. He lifted my face and

wiped them away. "God shall wipe away all tears."[16] Ah, this

blessed Day!

I cannot remember exactly what happened, only that Love

immeasurable flowed out from Him and was reflected in my poor

heart. One thing I do remember. When He lifted my face, while He

was wiping away my tears, He said in a voice of infinite sweetness,

like the sighing of the wind which "bloweth where it listeth and

we know not whence it cometh or whither it goeth":[17] "Speak.

Speak to Me!"

His words in English sink into your very soul. What I lose by not

understanding Persian!
"O my Lord, may my life speak to you!" I cried.
Then I presented Him with the petitions:

First I gave Him Lua's[18] and read Him a portion of one of her

letters, speaking of her tests and difficulties.

"You love Lua?" He asked in that voice of heart-piercing sweetness,

that voice which is indeed the calling of the Spirit, the

instrument of Divine Love. "She is dear to you? Your friend?"

"She is my mother. I love her with my whole soul. Thy Love," I

said, "has united so many hearts in eternal bonds." I spoke of my

love for May Maxwell.
"Your sister?" He asked.
"My sister and my mother too."

"Your mother." He said it was this that made Him happy: to see that

the sisters loved one another.

"Help me to love all," I begged. "In this I have failed."

"This is what I wish for you: that you will love all."

"With Thy help."

I gave Him the letter from Mr MacNutt. He smiled at the name. I

mentioned Laura Barney's beautiful goodness to me and prayed for

blessings for her.
"Khayli khub. Khayli khub," (Very good.) He said.
I gave Him Mother Beecher's[19] message.

Munavvar Khanum translated: "Our Lord will pray for her that she

will attain to all she wishes."

I gave Him Mrs Parsons'[20] message, that she longed to establish

a spiritual city on the Potomac, the inhabitants of which would

live for the good of the whole rather than the one, and asked that

the way might be opened for her to come to see Him; also whether

she should come alone or bring her family.
"My lord, you know Mrs Parsons?"

"I know. I know." Then he said, "That city I hope will be a

spiritual city and that the people of such a city will be perfectly

united. In a physical city, of course, it is impossible to have

everyone united. But in a spiritual city it is possible that all

be united and in every way cemented. The spiritual city is like the

sea, and the inhabitants of this city are like the waves of the

sea. In every way they are connected and united. I hope she will

be able to build such a city as this. I hope she will be able to

do all the services she wishes and that the way will be opened for

her to come."

His eyes were half closed as He gave this message. He seemed to be

communing with her.

I read Him Bernard Ginzig's message, that "He had heard the voice

of the Spirit in the realm of art; that he was a seeker of truth

in the world of mysteries."

"Tell him: Give thanks to God that you are a seeker after the

mysteries of existence and ask God that He reveal to you the

Mystery of the Kingdom. Should you know all the mysteries of the

world and know nothing of the Mystery of the Kingdom, it is

useless. To know the mysteries of the world is very good when this

knowledge is joined with the knowledge of the Mystery of the

Kingdom."

He also said it was good for Bernard Ginzig to follow the art of

designing.

In my hand, among the supplications with which I had been

entrusted, was a letter from Barakatu'llah[21] to me. As he had not

known, when he wrote, that I was going to 'Akka and as his letter

therefore contained no message, it was just in remembrance of him

that I had taken it to our Lord. In it he said he feared I had

forgotten him. I did not read it to our Lord, only held it up,

saying: "This is my last letter from Mr Barakatu'llah."

"You love Mr Barakatu'llah?"
"Oh yes, my Lord!"
He smiled.

"Write to him and say that you are in 'Akka and say that you wish

very much to have him here too. Tell him you have not forgotten

him!" (with a sudden captivating smile, tipping His head to one

side, and looking at me very knowingly). "Tell him you have not

forgotten him and that you wish he were here with you. Say that you

mentioned his name in the Presence of `Abdu'l-Bahá and He gave you

this message for him: that `Abdu'l-Bahá says He loves him very much

and He will pray for him that he may be assisted to do some work

in Japan. Until now the Word of God has not been raised in Japan.

Perhaps he may become the cause of its being proclaimed there. In

every country in which a new founder appears who will raise there

the words of the Kingdom,

[Photograph: A group of New York Bahá'ís (c. 1912)]

that man will be greatly helped. Therefore `Abdu'l-Bahá hopes that

he (Mr Barakatu'llah) will become wonderfully assisted."

I gave Him Claudia Coles' message.

"Give My salaams to Claudia Coles and say: I will pray for her that

she may obtain all her desires and that everything, including

herself, will be exactly as she wishes."
I read Him Mrs Ives'[22] long message.

"Say that she must continue to do to this man as she has been

doing, she and Mother Beecher both. She must not change. She must

try to be kind to him.

"First: herself. She must make every effort to enlighten her soul

and to attain to such a condition where no sorrow or disappointment

will have any effect upon her. The condition of entire and complete

submission is the best one, for when one reaches this condition one

is perfectly submissive to everything. And when she will be so, she

will entirely forget her own will and ask nothing but the Will of

God. Whatever is done in this world is the Will of God. And since

one, when in this condition, has no will of his own, his will is

the Will of God and whatever he does is the Will of God."

I supplicated that she might come and look upon His face.

"Khayli khub," He said. (Very good; very well.)

To Mary Little: "I will pray for her and ask help from the Kingdom

for her and pray that she may become as she wishes."

To Bertie Warfield: "Give her my greetings and love. Tell her I

have accepted her love."

"How do you like all these messages?" He said, smiling His smile

of enchantment. "I give you such long messages because of the love

in your heart. It is for this I love you--because you are so

sincere and have a great love in your heart and love many of the

believers. I see a great love in your heart. That is why I love

you."

I said: "If I have any love, it is Thy gift to me. I pray for the

universal love, that I may love all, my Lord."

"Insha'llah! That is what I desire for you: that you love each and

all; that you love all the people of the world. This is My wish for

you."

Just then X was announced. Our Lord asked Munavvar Khanum to bring

her in.

Then Munavvar returned with X. We two had a sacred meeting with our

Lord. She spoke so tenderly of me. He answered tenderly. He then

sent for Alice Beede. As she entered the room He said, with His

enchanting smile: "Friends? Friends?"

Alice spoke up in her impulsive way. "If people are your friends

they are mine."

"All are My friends. Each; every one." (In English:) "My friends.

My friends."
I was moved to take X's hand.
"She is mine?" I asked. "Mine forever?"
He smiled and said, "Yes. Yes."

Next He sent for Carrie. And when we were all at His feet, Munavvar

interpreting for us. He said: "I hope a great love may be

established among you and that day by day this love will increase.

I have gathered you all together here that you may be gathered in

the same way in the Kingdom of God, and that you may love one

another very, very much. If you love one another as you should, it

is just as though you had loved me as you should. The more you love

one another, the nearer you get to Me. I go away from this world,

but Love stays always. Therefore you should love one another very

much. And I hope that you will become the cause of establishing

great love among humankind and that, through the help and

assistance of God, you will be able to establish in this world the

Love of God. Bahá'u'lláh endured all these hardships and

difficulties only for the sake of establishing Love in this world."

X said: "I wish I might be like this rose and exhale such

fragrances."

Our Lord: "One could be much more beautiful than this rose. For the

rose perishes. Its fragrance is just for a time. No winter has any

effect upon such a Rose as Man."

"I wish," said Alice, "that when we go home we may be able to

diffuse what we have received here."

Our Lord: "As I have said before: Man first is like a pupil. He

becomes a learned man; then he becomes a teacher. First he is a

patient. He must attain perfect health, and, having attained it,

he can become a doctor. What I wish to say is that those who have

attained the Kingdom of God will themselves become doctors. All the

people of the world are patients, are ill. They are in great need

of doctors, so that through the help of the doctors they may be

cured of their spiritual diseases.

"The life of man will at last end in this world. We must all take

out of this life some fruit. The tree of one's existence must bear

fruit. If a tree has not fruit you must cut it down and burn it.

It would be useless for other purposes. And what is the fruit of

the human tree? It is the Love of God. It is love for humankind.

It is to wish good for all the people of the earth. It is service

to humanity. It is truthfulness and honesty. It is virtues and good

morals. It is devotion to God. It is the education of souls. Such

are the fruits of the human tree. Otherwise it is only wood,

nothing else."

"Thou hast been so merciful, my Lord, to permit X to come while I

am here."

"It is for your sake. You must be sure when you are with her to say

only those things that will help her, for should she do anything

wrong again it would not be good for the Cause."

"My Lord," I said, weeping, "I am so conscious of my own

imperfections I can never feel hers are greater than mine."

"You must never think of your own imperfections, but of the Power

of Bahá'u'lláh which can free you from all."

I was kneeling at His feet. Raising my hands I said: "Dear Lord,

free me from this terrible self-consciousness." (For the fact,

often proved, that he knew every thought in my mind had put me into

a dreadful state. Thoughts I could never really have thought would

come flying into my head like evil, fantastic birds--and I knew He

read them!)

"I will pray for you that you may be freed from it."

Again the tears came to my eyes and again He wiped them away,

smiling His divine smile.

"I supplicate for X, dear Lord. I love her with all my soul."

"I hope she may overcome and be exactly the opposite of what she

has been in the past. I will pray for her."
3 July 1909
Early morning tea

Our Lord: "I want to tell you that most of the nations and the

majority of the people are in perfect ignorance.

They are trying night and day to do something to destroy the

foundation of man. There are among them political fights and wars.

There are conflicts and disturbances. Every day they are inventing

new instruments for the destruction of human life. There are among

them also religious disputes and conflicts and disputes of

patriotism. You hardly find two men between whom there is real

harmony and sympathy.

"Now you must do your best, so that you may be able to remove all

these conflicts and disputes. You will change this darkness into

light; you will change this hatred and menace into love and

harmony, because your aim is a glorious one.

"It is sure you will have to endure many difficulties in this Cause

and that great obstacles will come before you. You will have many

hindrances. But you must confront all and you must endure all these

difficulties.

"You must give up all differences among you--differences of

opinion--and all work for the same aim. You must be qualified with

divine attributes, so that the Word of God may assist you, so that

the bounties of God may descend upon you. And know that without the

help of the Holy Spirit you will not be able to do this. And the

magnetism of the Word of God is sincerity of intention. And until

you are entirely severed from yourself and emptied of yourself, you

will never be sincere enough.

"You must entirely sacrifice yourself. You must close your eyes to

all rest. You must give up even your happiness and your enjoyments

so that you may be able to do this.

"It is true that you will be blamed very much and you will have

some difficulties and troubles. It is sure that people will show

enmity toward you, and it is possible your own relatives even will

try to oppose you. But you must be firm. And if you will be firm

and steadfast, be sure that you will become victorious. You will

be the cause of the union of the world of humanity.

"As Christ said to a rich man: 'Go, and give all you have, and take

up your cross and come and be My follower.'[23] This saying of

Christ's indicates that unless one is free from everything, one

cannot be a real follower of Christ."
3 July 1909
Luncheon

Our Lord: "Jesus Christ said: 'Freely have ye received; freely must

ye give.'[24] That is to say: Man has received the bounty of the

Kingdom for nothing, so you must give it to others as you have

received it. That is to say, not to wish for any reward or

compensation from the people. You should ask your reward of God.

"But in this new Revelation many of the believers have attained the

Kingdom of God with great difficulty. They gave much to obtain it.

"The Blessed Báb and Bahá'u'lláh were the Possessors of the

Kingdom. They gave the Kingdom to the people. But they had many

trials and difficulties. The Báb exposed His breast to thousands

of bullets from the enemy. Bahá'u'lláh, too, spent all His life in

the prisons. The beloved of God obtained the Kingdom by the

sacrifice of their lives, under calamities and oppressions. Their

houses were destroyed and their honour lost. All their properties

were pillaged. Their families and children were taken as captives,

and at last they themselves were martyred. Now consider how

difficult it was for these people to obtain the Kingdom. Not

withstanding this, the Kingdom is so great that still they received

the Kingdom freely!

"Now the purpose is this: that you also should procure the Kingdom

with so many sacrifices. It is possible you may have these

calamities and difficulties. The people will accuse you, blame you

and injure you, but you must show forth firmness and steadfastness.

And should there be no trials, nothing will be accomplished. But

when trials appear many will greatly develop. That is to say: those

who are sincere believers, firm in the Cause, will develop and

advance; but, on the contrary, those who are weak in their faith

will escape. But My hope is that you will show forth firmness."

"Tell Miss Juliet Thompson," He said suddenly, laughing, "that I

am going to strike her. Others are delicate, but she is strong and

can stand it." He laughed again. "I am going to beat her."

"It has seldom happened in any age or cycle that women have been

killed as martyrs, but in this great Revelation many women have

been martyred. It happened many times that enemies among the women

collected together, striking and beating a Bahá'í woman. Still they

could not appease their hostility, their rage, by striking. They

bit with their teeth. And this was due to their great rage."

The Master laughed all through this, from the time He mentioned my

name to the end, a strange laugh. I was sitting by His side at this

meal.
3 July 1909
Dinner

Our Lord: "All animals and birds sleep early. This is the creative

law of God. The birds sleep early. The rule is to sleep very early.

This is God's wish. Children wish to go to bed early. Gradually man

acquires the habit of sleeping later. To sleep at sunset is the law

of God. All children, birds and animals sleep involuntarily.

"His Holiness Christ manifested in these countries, but in the

beginning His Cause was spread in Europe and it superseded all

other religions, notwithstanding that in Asia there were many

religions, such as Zoroastrianism, Judaism, the star-worshippers

and idolaters, who are still existing in India. But in Europe and

America His Cause overcame all others. Now it is our hope that

although this Truth was revealed in this part of the world, it will

be spread and promulgated throughout America and Europe.

"His Holiness Christ said: 'The Children of the Kingdom will go out

from it, but from the uttermost parts of the earth many will come

and enter into it.'[25]

Now the inhabitants of Syria are bereft, for they have no capacity,

but you, who live in remote countries, have caught this Light. The

people from around here are deprived, but you from such far

countries have attained.

"A blind man, though he sit near the light, cannot see it; but a

clear-sighted man can see from afar. A man afflicted with a cold,

if he be in a rose garden, cannot inhale the fragrances, but one

whose nostrils are pure can inhale from a long distance. The people

who are in these cities are deaf and blind, but you, having an open

eye and a pure nostril, can see the Light from afar and inhale the

fragrances of this Rose Garden.
"Is this clear to you?"
4 July 1909
Early morning tea
Munavvar Khanum chanted a prayer.

Our Lord: "In this prayer which we have just read, Bahá'u'lláh

meant 'Abdu'l-Hamid, the Turkish Sultan who has lately been

deposed,[26] and the verses are:

'I implore Thee, O My God and the King of the nations, and ask Thee

by the Greatest Name, to change the throne of tyranny into a centre

of justice and the seat of pride and iniquity into the chair of

humbleness and justice. Thou art free to do whatsoever Thou wishest

and Thou art the All-Knowing, the Wise!'"

"A Power above the power of kings," I whispered to Munavvar.

"And still," she whispered back, "and still we ask for miracles."

__________

That day, the fourth of July, He took us Himself to the Holy

Tomb[27] in the morning.

I realize now why the Gospels are written so simply. I find I am

only able to state bare facts. But these surely are more eloquent

than all human comment on them. Let me give them to you, then,

simply:

First, with a father's tender care, He came to the carriage with

us and watched us start. At the house in Bahji He joined us in a

cool, whitewashed room, its door and window-trimmings painted blue,

the usual linen-covered divan lining its walls, under three wide

windows. Outside stood wonderful trees, like still sentinels

guarding the Tomb. Sanctity hung in the air, a brooding spirit.

Nowhere else in the world is the beauty of nature so impregnated

with the soul of Beauty, a reflection from another world. In the

air of 'Akka and Carmel is--Life.

On a table was [a] single photograph, Lua's. Our Lord called me to

sit by His side, then, pointing to the photograph, said: "Your

friend!"

I got it and placed it on a little table close to His elbow,

between the couch where He sat and my own chair. As I did this His

face lit up with a smile of heaven.

Tea was brought in--in the little clear glasses always used in

'Akka--and He served us with His own hands. Then, seating Himself

again on the divan, He called the four children who were with us:

two of his own little grandsons (Shoghi Effendi and Ruhi)[28] and

the two Kinney boys, and with a lavish tenderness, a super

abundance of overflowing love, such as could only have come from

the very Centre and Source of Love, He drew all four to His knees,

clasped them in His arms, which enclosed them all, gathered and

pressed and crushed them to His Heart of hearts. Then He set them

down on the floor and, rising, Himself brought their tea to them.

Words absolutely fail me when I try to express the divine picture

I saw then. With the Christ-love radiating from Him with the

intensest sweetness I have yet witnessed, He stooped to the floor

Himself to serve the little children, the children of the East and

the children of the West. He sat on the floor in their midst, He

put sugar into their tea, stirred it and fed it to them, all the

while smiling celestially, an infinite tenderness playing on the

great Immortal Face like white light. I cannot express it! In a

corner sat an old Persian believer, in a state of complete

effacement before his Lord, his head bowed, his eyelids lowered,

his hands crossed on his breast. Tears were pouring down his

cheeks.

Then our Lord took a chair and, facing the windows, pointed out

these beautiful trees to us. In His spread white robes, with His

majesty of pose--a sudden overwhelming majesty, after that tender

humility (in a way Michaelangelesque, only far transcending that),

yet with the divine sweetness that is never absent, no matter how

tremendous the Power displayed--He appeared at first glance as the

King of kings to me; the next instant once more the Spirit of the

Christ, the Son, flashed upon me. Then, the two aspects were one.

He said: "We cannot in this world realize the bounty of God, nor

can we appreciate His Love, but in the next world we can do so.

"When man is in the world of the womb, God showers upon him all

blessings. He gives him all the organs, eyes, ears, etc. But man

cannot put this favour into use there; it is not manifest there.

When the child is born from the world of the womb into this world,

then all those blessings and gifts which God showered upon him in

the world of the womb become manifest and useful. His gifts were

not known in the world of the womb, though men did possess them

there, but the world of the womb had not the capacity to receive

the manifestation of these gifts. Similarly with the gifts and

blessings which God showers upon man in this world. This world is

not fit and has not the capacity for the manifestation of these

gifts and blessings. But when man enters the

[Photograph: Bahá'ís visiting the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh (c. 1900).]

World of the Kingdom, then those gifts will be manifested.

"For example, one of the gifts of God is to be able to pay a visit

to the Holy Tomb, but man cannot fully realize it while in this

world. But when he enters the World of the Kingdom, there the

blessings and gifts will become evident and clear.

"Is this clear to you?"

Then, giving us each a handful of jasmine, He led us one by one to

the jasmine-strewn threshold of the Holy Tomb. As He led me, His

hand quickened me. Never can I forget its vital, tingling pressure.

We knelt at the Divine Threshold. Suddenly, He was beside us:

luminous, silent. Bending, He anointed our foreheads with attar of

rose. Then He lifted each of us to our feet. And then, in a voice

which struck across my heart, causing my entire being to quiver,

the memory of which even now pierces and wrings my heart, He

chanted.

When He had finished He asked Mr Kinney to chant. I could scarcely

bear the thought of a human voice following His. Yet Mr Kinney sang

beautifully: "O Lord, make us pure and without desire." My whole

being echoed this prayer.

Our Lord then requested us all to sing, and the hymn we chose was

"Nearer, My God, to Thee."

While our Lord was chanting I could not look at Him, but during the

singing that followed, I kept my face turned toward Him. I still

see Him standing by the window, the translucence of that majestic

profile, the grandeur of that luminous head, white turbaned against

the white wall.
We left the Holy Tomb.

"Come and I will show you My garden," said our Lord. "Come, follow

Me."

With the little children--Sandy pressed close to one side, Howard

to the other--He led us. In folds indescribably graceful, His white

robes blew about His Figure. Divineness breathed from it. That

which He manifested then was the tender Love of the Good Shepherd.

We followed in His Footsteps over the stony field: His garden?

"Other sheep have I that are not of this fold ... My sheep shall

know My voice ... And there shall be one fold, one Shepherd."[29]

As I followed, my heart chanted this.

Having gone about a quarter of a mile, He stopped and pointed out

over the Mediterranean.
"Look," He said, "the sea, the sea!"
Mr Kinney said, "America lies beyond."

Then our Lord: "America and this land are one. The world is one--is

one!" (in His ringing English). "America and this land are one. The

five continents of the world are one. All the nations are one,

through the Power of Bahá'u'lláh."

By "His garden" did He not mean the united world-to-be?

__________

In the morning we were all siting in our room (Alice Beede's and

mine), Carrie and X with Alice and myself, and were discussing

something and not agreeing and getting inharmonious, when there

came a tap at the door. And there stood the Master, in white in the

sunlight, His hands full of jasmine for us.

Later in the day, after our return from the Tomb, another sort of

talk was going on in our room. Someone said something off-colour.

It was carried on by someone else. Remembering our sacred morning,

my soul rebelled against it. Again came the tap at the door. We

were not dressed, not ready to receive our Lord, to open to Him.

That night He called us into His room--His small, dark,

wood-panelled room, very dark now with only two candles burning in

it, their little flames flickering as a breeze blew through the

window. He looked so mysterious, so unearthly in the dim light. We

seated ourselves at His feet.

"How are you?" He asked, "Are you happy? You should be happy after

your visit to the Blessed Tomb today. Did you think of Lua?"

X and I told Him that we had. Carrie said she had thought of each

and all the believers as they sat in the hall during the meetings.

His face lit up with that marvellous smile with which He always

blesses us when we speak of our love for others.
"Very good. Very good. That is what pleases God."

Alice said, "It is the Fourth of July, the day we Americans

celebrate our independence."

Our Lord: "Yes, it is a good day in America, the day of your

physical freedom. But today you celebrated your spiritual freedom.

Physical freedom is a good thing, but spiritual freedom is of

greater importance. Really the first thing is to have the soul

free. And you must be very happy to have attained spiritual freedom

on the same day when you attained physical freedom. I hope that as

on this day you attained the physical freedom, in the same way you

will be free from all passionate desires and human inclinations.

Then He went on: "The world is in prison and bondage through the

leaders of religions who have taken the Spirit captive.

"The Jewish rabbis have always tried to convince the people that

their religion is the true one, that they are the chosen nation by

being descendants of Abraham, and that they are the only people who

can enter the Kingdom.

"Likewise the Catholic priests. What they say to the people is

this: that they possess the true religion, they are the accepted

people of God and they alone can be saved.

"Likewise the Shaykhs.[30] They speak against the Christians and

say: 'God had a Son and the people crucified this Son of God!' They

say: 'What a foolish thing these Christians teach--that God could

have a Son and He, the Son of God, was crucified by human hands!'

"You see how the heads of each of these religions have captured the

souls of man and brought them under this narrow control.

"Now Bahá'u'lláh has come and given freedom to these captive souls

and released them from their bondage."[31]

We talked of our walk behind Him--in His Footsteps--over the stones

and thorns. I quoted: "My sheep shall hear My voice and there shall

be one fold and one Shepherd." Then X referred to His serving the

little

children. "Suffer the children to come unto Me."[32] I said it was

a symbol of His serving us, who are His little children.

"They are My sons. You are My daughters, My descendants by the

Spirit, which is the nearest relationship. This day you are

spiritually free." Then He dismissed us, saying, "Go and rest."

As we were leaving the room I told Him it was my mother's birthday.

"God will bless her. God will bless her," He said. "I have a

message for your mother. I will give it to you tomorrow."

Alas for the sin of disobedience! He had said "Go and rest." But

we were so anxious to write down His words while they were fresh

in our minds that we stayed in the dining room until late,

and--shameful to confess after our day in Heaven!--began to argue

about the New York Assembly: as to whether or not it was united!

Mr Kinney declared that it was. I said it was not. I even went so

far as to mention the breeder of the discord, to condemn her

destructive work!

But when X and I crept off to the room we were temporarily

occupying--crept through the black, vaulted halls and rooms, over

the old stone floors, to the rear wing of the house--a feeling of

guilt such as I could hardly bear consumed me.

Next morning when I met our Lord outside the dining room door, in

the sunny little court I so love because it is associated with His

footsteps, with the benediction of His Presence, looking with eyes

that ... forgave? ... no, that understood ... deep, deep into my

eyes, He put out His hand and took mine in a clasp of love.

On the night of 3 July, when I was on the housetop with Munavvar

Khanum: a little miracle! One of countless miracles I experienced

while in the Palace of the Divine Magician.

That housetop--roof of the House of the Lord--surely the place for

the revelation of mysteries! I find I can scarcely speak of it. Yet

I long to make a picture of it. To me it represents the summit of

my existence.

When we first came to 'Akka, every night we would all go up to the

housetop to walk or sit in the moonlight, Tuba and Munavvar Khanum,

Edna Ballora, Carrie, Alice, X, Miss Gamblin the governess, and

myself. Later this changed and I went up alone with Munavvar. On

the stones of the roof was spread a Persian rug and on this we

would lie together, Munavvar and I, and under the midnight sky,

talk of deep things till our Lord appeared.

And indeed on that roof He was an Apparition. I can see Him now,

pacing up and down, up and down, with that swift, free tread which

is somehow like floating, His white garments blowing about Him in

long, sweeping lines. His background: millions of stars.

On the night of that third of July, Munavvar and I were alone,

sitting on a parapet, looking out beyond the strong double sea wall

to the sea; to our right, in the moonlight, the dome and minaret

of the mosque and a tall palm tree; to the left, the garden of the

Master; behind us, the grim, square barracks, first prison in 'Akka

of the Blessed Perfection and His Family.

"I have such a funny little message for our Lord from my mother,"

I said. "I don't know how I shall ever give it to Him!"

"I wonder," Munavvar laughed, "if it is like the message of the

mother of Laura Barney!"

"I shouldn't be surprised! It is about my art. She wants me to give

up teaching in the Cause--my precious little mother!--and devote

all my time to my art."

"Well, isn't that funny!" said Munavvar, "That is just what our

Lord was saying to me yesterday. He said He had a message for your

mother. That she did not understand your giving up everything for

the Cause, neglecting your art to devote yourself to the Cause.

Europeans, He said, did not understand these things. He was going

to speak to you about it."[33]
5 July 1909
Early morning tea

Our Lord to X, who was to leave that morning: "This is the third

time you have been here. It has been a great pleasure for you to

have been with your friends each time. Now a long trip is before

you. If throughout this trip you are always sincere in your

intentions you will enjoy it very much. This ought to be a

spiritual and not a physical journey. You must always do your best

to behave spiritually, not physically, so that everyone who meets

you will know that your intention is to do good to mankind and your

aim to serve the world of humanity.

Whatever you do, let the people know you are doing it for good, not

only to earn you own living. By doing thus you will be able to

serve every city to which you go. Now associate with good people.

You must try to associate with those who will do you good and who

will be the cause of your being more awakened, and not with those

who will make you negligent of God. For example, if one goes into

a garden and associates with flowers, one will surely inhale the

beautiful fragrance, but if one goes to a place where there are

bad-scented plants, it is sure he will inhale an unpleasant odour.

In short, I mean that you will try to be with those who are

purified and sanctified souls. Man must always associate with those

from whom he can get light, or be with those to whom he can give

light. He must either receive or give instructions. Otherwise,

being with people without these two intentions, he is spending his

time for nothing, and, by so doing, he is neither gaining nor

causing others to gain.

"You must keep these words very well. This is the third time you

have come here. Fruits must be the results of these visits.

Patients go to a hospital. Some leave but slightly improved. Some

leave more ill than when they entered. And some leave entirely

cured. I hope you will be of those who are entirely cured. You must

be very thankful that you have come."
In His room fifteen minutes later

To X: "You have made your third visit here. Know that We have been

very kind to you and We love you very much here. It is rare that

believers come here three times. You must appreciate and be very

thankful for this. You must appreciate this great blessing and act

as is worthy of a spiritual daughter, so that when I hear news of

you I shall be happy.
"May God protect you under all circumstances."
5 July 1909

He sent for me. Taking off my shoes, I entered the beloved room and

sat in my place at His feet, on His left. My place. May I be there

forevermore in spirit! It was always to this place He beckoned me.

First I would kneel, then sit in the Oriental way. He would draw

me close, would gather my hand into His, would sometimes press my

head against His knee.

"I am going to give you a message to your mother today," He said

with His smile of love. "Now, give Me her message. Speak. Say. Do

not be afraid."
"She told me to give You her dearest love."
"Ah!" He smiled.

"And to tell You I was her dear, precious child ..."

"Ah, very good!" He pressed my hand, smiling.
"And to say ..."
"Speak. Go on."

"That she did not wish me to be a teacher in the Cause. She wished

me to devote my time to my art, which was a gift from heaven. That

I was not qualified to teach. That I was too sympathetic to enter

into peoples' lives to the extent I did. That I let people make

inroads into my home for the sake of what I thought my duty. That

she wanted me to change all this and become devoted to my art."

"Is there anything else?" He asked.
"No; I think not."

"Give your mother My best love. Tell her you are her

dear child; you are her daughter. But though you are her physical

child, you are My spiritual child, and I love you and you are

dearer to Me than you are to her, and I am kinder to you than she

is and I want your good more than she does and I think of you more

than she does.

"As to your art: It is one of the Teachings of Bahá'u'lláh that art

is identical with an act of worship. And you must go on with your

art and improve in it. And through this very Cause you will be able

to make great progress in your art, for you shall be helped from

Above.

"But as to your being a teacher: In a short time your mother will

be proud that you are a teacher. This is an eternal honour upon

your family. Lately I have seen that God is looking upon your

family with eyes of Providence. Though your mother does not realize

it now, in the future she shall know that this is a cause of

eternal honour to your family.

"You must do both. You must be a teacher and go on with your art.

And give some time to your mother.

"What do you think of these messages to your mother?"

"What do I think of the rays of the Sun that give Life?"

"I am glad to see so much love in your heart."

"How is it that the Lord of mankind has drawn to Himself such a

tiny atom, such a little piece of nothing?"

"My wish for you is that you make spiritual progress, more and

more."

When He spoke of my art, He pressed the palms of my hands. When he

spoke of my teaching, He pressed my head and shoulders.

To be so near, so near that great Dynamo of Love, to

have been lifted up out of the mass of God's needy creatures and

drawn to the Heart of the Divine Magnet--may my life blood flow in

gratitude!
5 July 1909
Luncheon

Our Lord: "There are two kinds of changes and alterations. One

causes descent and one ascent. The one which causes descent is not

good, but on the contrary. The other change, which causes ascent,

is acceptable.

"For example, a child from the time of being in the womb of its

mother until it grows to maturity, changes in many stations, and

this change is accepted and praiseworthy. For instance, 'Mr

MacNutt'" (smiling toward little Howard Kinney, whom He always

called "Mr MacNutt" after his godfather, Howard MacNutt, a very

dignified man who looks something like George Washington) "after

many years will grow up and pass through many changes and will get

moustaches and a beard and will be a man!

"Consider the bread. It changes and changes until it gives power

to the body--and then it becomes man. This change is acceptable,

because it replaces what has been eliminated from the body. The

mineral carbon changes in many stations until diamonds are produced

from it.

"But the change which is hated in all cases is, for example, as

follows: A man is faithful; he gives up his faith. A just man

becomes cruel. A seer, a clear-sighted man, becomes blind. Or: to

be alive and then to die; to be steadfast in the Covenant and, for

some idea, to become the enemy, like Khayru'llah.[34] At first he

was a very firm man and was in the utmost faith. Then he wavered.

Such a change is hated.

"Many firm souls had the greatest capacity and were like the wick

and fire. As soon as they came in contact with the fire they

received light. By a single meeting they were so improved and

converted that they were entirely changed. While others were for

a long time My companions, yet never changed. You find a man will

be wakened by a single call. Another is never quickened even if you

discharge a cannon! As soon as the ray of the sun shines through

crystal it will burn, but if the same ray fall on a stone, no

effect is produced."

When He spoke of Khayru'llah I looked at my Lord, startled and

anxious. Could He mean that I might prove weak? He smiled at

me--oh, with such sweetness. My fears vanished before that sun!

He called Mr Kinney's attention to the rice.

"Rice. Rice," He said in English, "very good." Then looking at me

and laughing: "She is smiling at My English!"

"I smile because Your voice makes me happier than anything in the

world."

Soon, sensing my wish to speak to Him, only for the sake of

speaking to Him: "Speak. Speak."

But I had really nothing to say! I brought forth this: "Even this

physical food is the best in the world."

"That is because of your intense love. A poison given by a friend

is like honey. A Persian poet says: 'The poison which comes from

Thee to me is my antidote. A wound from Thee is remedy.' Certainly

these physical dishes are tasteful to you because you have the

greatest love."

I supplicated that He might give me poison and wound me in His

Cause, that I might be found worthy of this.

"I will. When afflictions and bitter conditions taste sweet to man,

this shows that he is favoured in the sight of God."

Mr Kinney said: "I am not eating now, but my Master is feeding me."

Our Lord: "I, Myself, am the Food."

As He spoke His head was bowed, His hands upturned, like cups, in

His lap. He sat, the embodiment of Divine humility. A great Mystery

flooded the room, and a tremendous Power.

"How like Jesus that sounds!" whispered Mr Kinney.

"Jesus," said our Lord, His head still bowed, "was the Bread that

came down from Heaven, but I am the Food prepared by the Blessed

Beauty, Bahá'u'lláh."

After a moment of dazzling silence, little Sandy said, "Why are you

crying, mother?"

I could not cry. I seemed to be translated into the Spiritual

Kingdom.

In few moments the Master turned to me and smiled. "Eat. Eat,

Juliet."

Because He had told me to eat, I felt that I must. I did so;

finished the food on my plate to the last morsel, though I could

scarcely swallow it. For the time, I was of the Heavenly Kingdom,

made of other elements. The physical food was like dust and ashes

in my mouth. Coarse grained, too, it seemed.

Later I understood what He had really meant by "Eat, Juliet." He

had invited me to partake of the Food prepared by the Blessed

Beauty.
In the large tea room
5 July 1909, 5 p.m. Afternoon tea.

Our Lord: "We ought to pray for Miss X, that she may become just

as God wishes her to be. If she be so, it will be very good,

because God always loves those who repent and are sorry for what

they have done. Such people are ashamed before God and become very

humble.

"Once a Pharisee and a Publican entered the Temple to pray. The

Pharisee said: 'Thank God I am not as other men.' The other said:

'God have mercy upon me, a sinner!' Christ said of these two: 'The

Pharisee is not acceptable in the Kingdom of God, but the other is

acceptable, because the Pharisee is trusting in his own action, but

the other is depending upon the forgiveness of God.'[35]

"But the only thing is this: One should remain firm in his

repentance. I will pray for her."
In His room
6 July 1909. Morning.

He sent for me, called me into His room this morning. Taking my

hands in His Life-giving hands. He asked me those first dear

questions: "Are you happy, Juliet?"
"So happy!"
"Are you well?"
"Thou knowest, my Lord."

He told me He was pleased with me. Then He asked me for the verbal

messages. He forgets nothing.
I gave Him dear Sylvia Gannett's message.

"She is such a beautiful spirit," I said. "She is a peacemaker. She

never criticizes anyone"

"It is a very good quality that she does not talk about others'

faults, for many troubles are caused by speaking against one

another. Because to talk badly behind the people is very bad."

I spoke of Herbert Rich and received a wonderful private message

for him.

To Miss Colt (who had sent the humblest of supplications): "Give

My kindest love to Miss Colt and say: You are worthy of everything.

Tell her that if she were not a worthy soul she would not have been

blessed with entering this Cause and she could not be able to

follow the Word of God. She was not unable to hear the Words of the

Kingdom. I will pray for her."

"What do you think of all these messages? I give them to you

because of the love in your heart."

I spoke of May Maxwell and Mariam Haney and said they were

beautiful.

"You are all beautiful," He replied. "And Mrs True?" He then asked.

"I don't know Mrs True, except through letters."
"I love Mrs True very much."

I spoke of Mr MacNutt and Mr Harris, and also mentioned Mr Hoar.

"They have borne so beautifully," I said, "their ordeals of the

past winter."[36]

He was silent for a moment, then asked: "Cannot you unite these two

factions?"

"O my Lord!" I gasped. "I! I have longed for years to see them

united."

"I know. That is why I love you so. You can do it because you have

love."

"If it is Thy command, I can do it, for Thou wilt help me. I have

not been able in the past because I had not enough love and was not

patient enough with those who see less clearly than others." (I

meant those who belittled His station, comparing Him with the

apostle Peter.)

"You must become more patient. It would be well if some others

would help you. For instance, Lua Getsinger, Miss Barney, Mrs

Brittingham, Mrs Maxwell, also Mrs Kinney, and anyone else you

think would promote harmony. If you could have feasts and meetings

in your houses and bring together the chief speakers in the utmost

love; and if, when you have the opportunity, you would speak to

them on the importance of unity, it would be very well. You will

be assisted in this."

"Why is it the Lord of mankind has been so bountiful to this atom?"

"If you all could know how I love you, you would fly away with

joy!"

"Think of Me often," He said. "Think of the times you have spent

here. I hope you will become the daughter of the Kingdom; that you

will become the essence of purity and very heavenly; that you will

become enlightened by the light of the Love of God and the cause

of the enlightenment of other maidservants. Is there anything

else?"

"There are three little things in my heart, my Lord."

"What are they?"

"I have a little godchild named for me, who was born under very

unfortunate circumstances."

"I will pray for her that she will be blessed both in this world

and in the spiritual world." The love and the understanding beaming

from His face set my heart forever at rest for the little Juliet.

"My brother?"

His smile became brilliant. "Your brother!" (in His ringing

English). Every one of His words in English burns into your soul.

Oh, if I only knew Persian! "Well, what is it for your brother?

Speak!"

"My Lord, he is like a beautiful rose bud: not yet opened."

Looking at me with divine loving kindness, He said: "I hope this

bud will become a beautiful full-blown rose and exhale the sweetest

fragrance. What else?"

"My Lord," I said, "I pray that Percy Grant may become a believer."

He pressed my hand two or three times and laughed, and smiled down

at me.
"Do you want this very much?"
"Oh my Lord, yes! So much!"

"I will pray for this. I will pray for this. But," and He smiled

again, indulgently, "you too must make an effort. You must help

him. I will pray for him."

Then He dismissed me. Kissing the hem of His garment, I left Him.

6 July 1909
Luncheon

Our Lord: "Afflictions and troubles are due to the state of not

being content with what God has ordained for one. If one submits

himself to God, he is always happy. A man asked another: 'In what

station are you?' The other answered: 'In the utmost happiness.'

'Where does this happiness come from?' 'Because all existing things

move according to my wish. I do not find anything contrary to my

desire. Therefore I have no sorrow. There is no doubt that all the

beings move by the Will of God, and I have given up my own will,

desiring the Will of God. Thus my will became the Will of God, for

there is nothing of myself. All are moving by His Will, yet they

are moving by my own will. In this case, I am very happy.'

"When man surrenders himself, everything will move according to his

wish."
__________

"Today I have answered the questions of all. Now you are left, Mr

Kinney!"

Mr Kinney: "There is only one question in my soul. How can I love

you more?"
Our Lord: "I will answer you later."

Mr Kinney: "The Board of Council[37] has met for three years past

in my studio and I am very proud of it."

Our Lord: "It is indeed worthy to be proud of. I hope your home may

always be the place of the gatherings; that the beloved of God may

always come together there, be engaged in commemoration of God,

have heavenly talks and speak through the confirmation of the Holy

Spirit. Your home will be one of the heavenly constellations,

Insha'llah, and the stars will gather there."
Mr Kinney: "What could I ask for more?"
Our Lord: "There is nothing superior to this."
6 July 1909
Dinner

Our Lord (through an interpreter): "The spiritual food is the

principal food, whereas the physical food is not so important. The

effect of the spiritual food is eternal. Through the material food

the body exists, but through the spiritual food the spirit will be

nourished. The material food, that is, the food for the body, is

simply water and bread, but the food for the intellect is knowledge

and the food for the spirit is the significances of the Heavenly

Words and the bounties of the Holy Spirit.

"If there were no love, nothing would be pleasing. Many come here

and eat, but they do not appreciate it."

The Master had written a Tablet to the believers in Tihran that

they should organize a meeting in which Bahá'í women will teach and

train others to teach the Cause. Now they have written the news to

the Master that they have arranged this meeting and nineteen girls

and women attend. This meeting will advance directly, and will be

the cause of developing the girls in every way.
In our Lord's room
7 July 1909. Morning.

While Munavvar Khanum, Carrie, Alice, and I were in the room of our

Lord this morning, suddenly smiling at me, He said: "Do you think

your mother will like My message to her?"

"Her heart is so pure she must love it, Lord." My hand was in His.

"She will like that part about your art," He said, with His witty

smile.
"She said you would straighten out my life."

"Say to her: I have two arts: one physical, the other spiritual.

The physical one is that I draw the images of men. My spiritual art

is that I draw the images of the angels, and I hope that at last

I shall be able to draw pictures of the Perfections of God. My

physical art will at last end, but my spiritual art is everlasting.

My physical art can be done by many, but my spiritual art is not

the work of everyone. My physical art makes me dear to men, but my

spiritual art makes me dear to God. Therefore I work to perfect

both of them."
"Thou hast straightened out my life!"

With his smile of light He said: "I am the Heavenly Artist.

Although I am sitting here, my pen is working in every part of the

world, over the pages of the hearts."
7 July 1909
At luncheon
At this meal I was sitting beside Him.

Our Lord (through an interpreter): "The Master's love for you is

like an ocean and your love is like a drop. The distress and

calamities which the Master has endured for your sake for many

years, you could not endure for one day. And now, should anyone

offer Him the entire existent world in exchange for one of you, He

would not accept it. This means that one of you is dearer to Him

than the whole world. If a thousand swords be used on the Master's

neck, or against Him, He accepts that, but would not be content

that one hair of your head should be taken away.

"About two years ago some spies came from Constantinople and it

was a terrible day for the Master. He sent all the believers from

'Akka that none should be harmed but Himself. He sent them all away

that no one should stay in 'Akka except Himself--that if there were

any kind of calamity, it should be for Him alone.[38]

"You must realize by this expression how much He loves the

believers."
The Master groaned, and left the table.
__________

Every afternoon Tuba and Munavvar Khanum, Carrie and Alice and I

had tea in the room of our Lord. On this seventh of July we had a

most heavenly talk. Returning to my room with a yearning heart,

breaking under His Love, and with a devastating sense of my own

unworthiness, I wrote Him a supplication. I told Him my heart was

paralyzed by His bounties and it killed me to think that this

heart, receiving so much, realized so little. I begged Him to open

it wider and wider to the rays of His sacred Love.

Scarcely had I finished this pitiful little plea when I saw Him

standing at my door. That Holy Figure in white in the sunlit court!

I gave Him my supplication. He took it and, calling Munavvar

Khanum, beckoned us both to follow Him to His room. Then He asked

Munavvar to translate it. When she had done so, He simply said,

"Khayli khub," (Very well) and dismissed me.

Later in the afternoon, the Master struck me the first blow! The

beginning of the shattering of my earthly hopes. After this, He

took from the inside pocket of His long, flowing cloak my

supplication. Unfolding the paper and looking at me with grave

sweetness, he

pointed to the last paragraph, "May my heart open wider and wider

to the rays of Thy sacred Love." He then folded it again and put

it back in His breast-pocket.
Still later in the afternoon
"My daughter! My dear! My soul! My spirit!"
"Lord, anything You send me I will bear."
"Yes. Yes."

I was on my knees. I looked up to see the Christ-Face yearning over

me, His hands raised in blessing above my head. I shall never

forget that Face. It was lifted as though in prayer, His eyes

closed, His lips apart.

Then He held my head against His heart, and I heard the Heart of

`Abdu'l-Bahá beat.

I went to my room. Standing, facing His room, I reached out my arms

and my heart cried: I love You. But I made no sound. Almost

instantly He appeared at my door. I knelt in the doorway. "I love

You; I love You," I said. He looked at me with unearthly luminous

eyes, then turned away. Once more I held out my arms. He looked

back.

The night of the seventh of July we all sat on the roof. He was in

His little room on the roof. He sent out His cloak to put around

Carrie, who felt cold, and she shared it with me. My tears fell on

His cloak. I had realized this: "With His stripes are we

healed."[39]
7 July 1909, 9 p.m.
At dinner

Our Lord: "Since the day you arrived you have daily progressed and

you have almost changed.

"Some souls come here and return unaltered. It is precisely like

one who comes to a fountain and, not being thirsty, returns exactly

as he came. Or, like a blind man who goes into a rose garden: he

perceives not, and, being questioned as to what he has seen in the

rose garden, answers, 'Nothing.'

"But some souls who come here are resuscitated. They come dead;

they return alive. They come frail or ill in body; they return

healed. They come athirst; they return satisfied. They come

sorrowing; they return joyous. They come deprived; they return

having partaken of a share. They come athirst; they return

satisfied!

"These souls have in reality done justice to their visit. Praise

be to God, you are of these souls and you must be exceedingly

happy.

"If a cow should go to a prosperous town, a city full of bounties

and divine blessings, and should be asked as to what it had found

in this town, it would say, 'Nothing but cucumber peels and melon

rinds.' But if a nightingale should fly to a rose garden, when it

returns the reply would be, 'Verily, I have scented delicious

fragrances, seen most beautiful flowers, most delightful verdure,

drunk most refreshing water from gushing fountains; and I have

found new life!' Now the reply of a beetle would be, 'All you have

heard concerning the rose garden is false. There is neither a

delightful fragrance nor beauty of verdure, nor is it joyous. In

fact, when I entered it, I was displeased. All you have heard is

false. Had I not escaped, I should have died!'"
8 July 1909

In the morning of 8 July, the Master rushed with tremendous energy

into my room and placed me with His two hands on the divan, then,

going down to the garden and into a little house below my window,

He dictated Tablets all morning, every now and then coming to the

window, standing in the sunlight and looking up at me. Never shall

I forget the Face of my King at the window. Just before He left the

house in the garden, once more He looked up. I was faithful at my

post; in fact, I had not dared even to move.
In His room
Afternoon, 7 July 1909
Munavvar, Carrie, Alice, Juliet

"All this trouble and hardship is just for this end: that you may

love one another as you should, so that you may be perfectly

united."

To Carrie Kinney: "Let Me give you the good tidings that your

family and your children will be greatly helped; and you must be

very happy for this. I love your 'Mr MacNutt' very much. It is good

that you have two Mr MacNutts! Others have one Mr MacNutt, but you

have two! Of course you love Mr MacNutt, because he has been the

cause of your spiritual life. The physical father is the cause of

the material life, but Mr MacNutt was the cause of your spiritual

life. Therefore you owe him much."
8 July 1909
At Luncheon

The Master spoke of the many letters He had answered that morning

and of the packages still unopened. Mr Kinney said: "I will write

Your letters for You!"

Our Lord: "Very good; very good. Write a letter and answer it

yourself. Look into your heart and see the answer. The answer is

what is written on the tablet of your heart. That which is written

upon paper is subject to corruption and various accidents, such as

consumption by fire and moth, but that which is inscribed on the

tablet of the heart is imperishable and everlasting. A day will

come when all My communications upon paper--all My writing--will

be effaced. But that which I have inscribed upon the hearts will

not be effaced. There is no end to it. For I write the Word of the

Love of God upon the hearts, and the Word of God is eternal."

The Master said He was exceedingly happy because of Mr Kinney's

presence at the table (after a short illness), "for we are all

assembled together."

"Just consider what the Bounty of Abha has achieved! Just observe

in what a condition we are! Imagine not that if you were to

sacrifice all upon earth, you could produce this attitude."

Little Howard (aged four) from his high chair: "Won't the Master

come to New York?"

Our Lord: "Perhaps you do not know that I am always there with you,

for though My body is absent, My heart is there; My Spirit is

there."

Mr Kinney (to the interpreter): "Tell the Master He will always be

an honoured Guest."

Our Lord: "I am the Host, not a guest. For to be a guest is to be

there temporarily, whereas the Host stays forever."

__________

One day at lunch a huge dish of macaroni was put on the table. The

Master, laughing, rose from His seat, took the platter in His own

hands, brought it to little Howie's high chair and served him a

very big helping. Then He told us that "Mr MacNutt" had come to His

door that morning, had taken off his shoes and left them on the

door step, then had run to Him, the Master, where He was sitting

by the window, thrown his arms around the Master's neck and

whispered in His ear: "My Lord, can't we have macaroni for lunch?"

"He is never allowed it at home," laughed Carrie.
In the Master's room
8 July 1909

In the early afternoon He called us all into His room. Beckoning

me to sit in my accustomed place and taking my hand in His, He

began: "You are fortunate that during these few days I have not

been very busy, for to some others it happened I had less time to

give them.

"The desire of My heart is that each of you, when you return to

America, will be just like a torch flaming with the Love of God,

and that your speech will be wonderfully loosened, so that when you

enter the meetings, you will enter them with full eloquence and

with perfect courage. I kiss the mouth of Sandy so that he may have

wonderful speech, especially for this purpose."

He then dictated messages to various believers. On our expressing

regret at burdening Him with so many, He said: "Everything that is

a sign of your love toward one another, though it take my time, yet

it makes me happy. And if you will realize how much I love you all,

you will know that even were I occupied day and night with your

affairs, I would never tire. For My Love is not a physical one to

make Me tired. My Love is purely spiritual and divine. Therefore

I am never tired."

Through Carrie to Mrs Gibbons:[40] "You must always look forward

to My will and desire. My will and desire are that you should

honour and respect all humankind, especially the believers. Never

try to be the cause of hurting anyone's feelings. On the contrary,

make every effort to become the happiness of hearts. There is no

greater sin than the breaking of hearts and there is no greater

action than to be the cause of the happiness of hearts. If you want

My happiness, try to be kind to Dr Fischer,"[41] (as I caught my

breath in wonder at His knowledge, He smiled down at me) "and do

something that no ill-feeling may exist any more between you."

Carrie asked for a message for Mrs MacNutt, "if it is not too

much."

(To us:) "I love you all so much that the more I mention you the

happier I become. Say to Mrs MacNutt: Though you stayed in 'Akka

a short time, it is as though you had stayed one year, for in that

short time the instructions and teachings of God were revealed to

you and you have accepted them with a pure heart, for you had the

capacity for receiving the divine bounties. Therefore, in a short

time you have attained to a new spirit. I ask God that you make

progress day by day and that you may have a greater portion of the

bounties of Bahá'u'lláh."

Through Alice to Robert Rich: "Give My love to him and say: Mrs

Beede mentioned you here and said good things about you. I know you

have gone through sufferings in your life, but the sufferings and

troubles in this world are the cause of awakening one. Therefore,

you must be thankful for what sufferings you have and give thanks

to God that you have not been shaken by your tests. For the tests

are very great and sometimes will be the cause of one's being quite

neglectful. But, thanks be to God, you have faced them firmly. I

will pray for you, so you may obtain the desire of your heart."

Through me to Thorton Chase: "Give My greetings to Mr Chase and

say: Miss Juliet mentioned you here with love and with a face full

of light. And she mentioned your kindness to her. I am pleased with

you. And for your endeavour and zeal in serving the Kingdom of God

I am very happy. And I hope you will yourself become the embodiment

of the instructions of Bahá'u'lláh, so that each one who sees you

and knows your actions will know that the teachings of Bahá'u'lláh

are manifesting through you."

To Mr Windust[42] through me: "Give Mr Windust My kindest love and

say: Though physically I have not met you, in reality I have seen

you often. Why? Because in Spirit and heart I am always with you.

I am inseparable from you. And I know your desire is My

good-pleasure. Therefore I am pleased with you."

Through me to Annie Boylan: "Your message was delivered and the

good tidings of the union and harmony among the believers of New

York caused a happiness in My heart. For each one in this world has

a desire. But My desire is the realization of the perfect love in

the world of humanity. The mention and thought of all the believers

day and night, must be love, union, and brotherhood. This union

will be the cause of their progress in all conditions."

Through Alice to Mason Remey: "Give My greatest love to Mr Remey

and say: You are very dear to me. You are so dear that I think of

you day and night. You are My real son. Therefore I have an idea

for you. I hope it may come to pass."

He turned to me and, smiling, said: "Do you love Mr Remey?"

It crucified me, but I answered, "Yes." Again the Master smiled.

Later, while I dwelt in anguish on the significance of His

words--while the pencil with which I was taking them down slipped

from my hand--He turned to me smiling again and, pointing to my

notebook, said: "Write; write!"
Soon He dismissed us.
__________
Near sunset we went to the Holy Tomb.

Just before we went He came to our room--Alice's and mine--and,

seating Himself on the couch, while as usual I sat at His feet, He

said: "Now I am sending you to the Tomb, and you should ask there

all you wish and desire. And I will pray also, here, for what you

pray. And there you will pray for everything you wish."

In that unutterably holy place I prayed for unity in New York. I

prayed to be strengthened to fulfil His Will. I implored for

strength to meet my great tests. I prayed for my father, mother,

and brother and for every friend I could think of. Then I took from

my heart the love of my life and gave it into the hand of

Bahá'u'lláh. I asked but one thing: that this once-beloved of my

heart might know His Beauty and might serve His Threshold.

8 July 1909
Dinner, 9 p.m.

Our Lord, smiling: "Are you happy owing to your visit to the Tomb?

Mrs B. [Beede]?

Alice, with a face all shadows and tragedy: "You must feel that I

never was so happy."

Our Lord: "Although our assembly tonight numbers only ten

outwardly, in reality it is representative of all the beloved of

God. Why? Because it pictures the Bahá'í community. The seed, no

matter how small, in the estimation of the perceptive mind, is a

veritable tree. The mind images the tree and the tree is revealed

from the seed. Likewise, when I see you it is as though I were

seeing all the beloved of God. The Teachings I give to you are the

Teachings I would give to all the beloved of God.

"Today when you visited the Holy Tomb, I during that very time

directed My attention to the Supreme Concourse of the Kingdom of

Abha and supplicated confirmations in your favour.

"Praise be to God, your hearts are overflowing with the Love of God

and you have no great attachment to this world. The thing which is

necessary for you now is discourse. It is My hope that you will

attain an eloquent discourse, for I have loved you exceedingly.

Consequently I anticipate an eloquent, expressive, and excellent

discourse on your part after your arrival in America. Rest assured

in the fact that the breaths of the Holy Spirit will

aid you, provided no doubts obtain in your hearts. Is not this so,

Juliet? Is not this so, Mrs B.?"

He helped each of us from His plate. To me He gave His bread. I was

sitting beside Him.

"You will remember these nights very often. These nights are rare.

They are not obtained always.

"I hope the party that has come, Mr and Mrs Kinney, Mrs B., and

Juliet, will be real Bahá'ís and that your deeds and actions will

manifest this when you return to New York. I have given you so many

blessings. I hope you will be able to speak fluently and with great

power in the meetings and share with the rest of the friends what

you have received here."

That night (8 July) I went to the housetop alone with Munavvar

Khanum.

"Dear," I said, "do you remember my supplication that Percy Grant

might become a believer? I have had only one strong love in my

life: for him. We both knew it the moment we met. Then a blow came,

and I refused to see him any more. I even left New York for a time

because, really providentially, only a day or two after that blow,

I was called to Washington to paint a portrait. And in Washington,

Munavvar, Ahmad showed me a Tablet just arrived from the Master to

a friend of mine, who had mentioned Percy Grant in one of her

supplications--merely mentioned his name in a prayer for him--a

Tablet in which was a message to him and to myself:

'Say to Percy Grant and Juliet Thompson: O ye intelligent ones,

there is no rest or tranquillity in this world. There is no

composure of mind. The world is in need of the Heavenly

Glad-Tidings. Therefore, turn ye to the Kingdom of Abha and seek

after spiritual attraction, for life without this is death and this

evanescent world like the mirage in the desert.'
__________

"This is as well as I can remember it. And ever since then this

spiritual attraction has been growing. But today I took this love

out of my heart and returned it to God. And now I am ready to do

the Master's Will."
"Why did you do this, dear?"

"Because I believed it to the be the Master's Will."

"What made you think that?"
"Don't you know?"

"Yes, dear, I think I do. Something He said this afternoon?"

"Yes, dear."

"Our Lord has asked me to speak about this to you, Juliet. He seems

to wish it very much. He knows this other man too, but He thinks

Mr Remey would be better. But He also wishes to know your own

feelings."

"He knows my own feelings, Munavvar darling. There is no flinching

in me that He does not know. But I have prayed to make any

sacrifice and I could have no greater opportunity. I could make no

greater sacrifice than in marrying a man I did not love. But for

the Master's sake I would do it joyfully."

"But, dear, He would not wish you to go against your inner

feelings. Tell me about it."

"Perhaps I am too much attracted by people of brilliant intellect.

And this man I love has such a powerful one! But how can I think

of my own preferences when the Master wishes something else for

me?"

Suddenly our Lord appeared on the housetop. Walking

up and down like a king, He began to talk to us. I listened in

breathless wonder. Most of what He said has escaped me. I can only

write fragments.

He told me He wished me to have a great power of discourse. He

spoke of love. He said I had a great capacity for love, that this

was the promising sign in me. "Qurratu'l-'Ayn,"[43] He said, "had

nothing but her love. This was her power."
I spoke of how deeply I felt my unworthiness.

"Capacity attracts," He answered. "The greater your capacity, the

more you will be filled. When the child is hungry and cries for

milk, the milk of the mother begins to flow rapidly."

I could scarcely speak after all He said. When His bounties are

pouring upon me I always feel paralyzed. All my senses are numb,

dead. It kills me to be so, beneath the outpourings of His

generosity. To be in the Presence of the Lord and not aglow! I am

filled with shame and the sense of my utter unworthiness. I

murmured to Munavvar Khanum: "Say to our Lord for me: What matters

the physical life now? I can do nothing for Him, for Whom I want

to do everything, but follow His commands and wishes to the

minutest detail."

He then came and sat on the rug beside us and began to speak of

Mason Remey. Oh, to picture Him as He was then--no longer the Lord,

the King, but the tender Father--a something eager (if I may use

the word) in His manner and tone.

He told me He loved Mason Remey so much and He loved me so much

that He wished us to marry. That was the meaning of His message to

Mason. He said it would be a perfect union and good for the Cause.

Then He asked me how I felt about it.
I answered: "I will gladly fulfil Thy wish."
"But what are your inner feelings?"
"Lord, Thou knowest my inner feelings."
"You love this other man? You love?"

"It is secondary now. My only desire is to fulfil Thy Will. Thou

knowest best. My only desire is to give all I have for Thee--to

give my dearest. I can do this now. This is my opportunity."

"But, my daughter, My wish is for your happiness. You must be frank

with Me about it. The inner feelings cannot be forced. In speaking

with you just now I was giving you spiritual commands. This is

different; this is material, and, in regard to it, I am not

commanding but suggesting. This union with Mr Remey is merely an

idea, a suggestion of Mine."

"Thy suggestions and ideas come from the Infinite Wisdom."

"But--understand Me--I wish your happiness."

"I should rather follow Thy wish. I should be happier following Thy

wish than in marrying the man I love."

"Well, is it possible for you to love Mr Remey as you do this other

man?"
"Is it possible, Lord?"

"If it is possible to love Mr Remey equally well, for him to take

the place of the other, then I should be glad." He paused a moment.

"But your marrying the other is very good, if you can make him a

believer. And you must pray for it. If you see that he has an

inclination to become a believer, even before he does so, you can

marry him. If you can lead him to the Cause this is very, very

good. Am I not a kind Father?" He asked.
I spoke brokenly of His Love.
"I am the Essence of Love."

I remember His saying later: "Appreciate this night. Many a soul,

both now and throughout the ages, would give their lives for five

moments of such a night on this roof with Me--and with Munavvar

Khanum."

During the tender talk that followed, I asked: "May I come here

again?"

"Yes; yes!" He replied. "You have permission to come whenever you

find you can do so."

Ah, "many a soul, both now and throughout the ages, would give

their lives for five moments of such a night on the roof with

Him--and with Munavvar Khanum."
9 July 1909
Morning

He called me to His little room. Tuba Khanum interpreted for me.

What He said to me I cannot tell--only a tiny part.

"You have stood a very great test. I love you dearly. Your tests

have been very, very great. And when they came you did not flinch"

(raising His hand with a strong gesture) "but stood firm and met

them bravely. And they were very great."

"My Lord, I have been grieving for not having met them more

perfectly."

Then followed what I cannot tell. Only my Lord, Tuba and myself,

and Beings in the Unseen World who live in the Presence of the

Master, know what He said to me then. I wept at His feet.

"What I have told you is because of this," He said, "this condition

of your heart."

"Be happy," He continued. "Think if you were at the feet of Christ

in His time, His hand covering yours."

"I am so unworthy. I am so dead. Quicken me into Life!"

"I will. Be at rest, and I will. I will widen you. I love your

love."

"Perhaps I feel so dead in order to realize that everything comes

from Thee, that without Thee I am indeed dead. Without Thee I can

do nothing."

At the end He said: "Go, and be My light in America."

Kissing the hem of His garment, I left Him.

A little later, still on the housetop, He pointed to the waning

moon. "The moon ... the stars ... the East ... no! I am the Sun of

the West!" He said.
"For us? Us Christians?"
"Yes. For you."

After an interval: "I am not worthy, Lord, that Thy Glory should

be revealed to me yet?"
"No."
"But some day?"
"Yes."

There was a flash from His eyes. For an instant they were like

brilliant stars before which the stars in heaven paled. Then He

veiled them with His lids. Two more flashes, and they became as

usual. Unworthy though He had found me, He, in His mercy and love,

gave me three glimpses of His Glory.

"My Spirit loves your spirit. I love your heart." He touched my

heart; and it leapt beneath His fingers.

"The strings of my heart vibrate," I said, "beneath the fingers of

the Divine Musician."

He touched it again; and again it was strangely stirred. "Ahh!" I

breathed.
"Why 'Ahh'?"
"This heart will sing for Thee forever!"
He covered my lips with His hand.
"Love," He said. For a moment he lifted His hand.

"Love," I repeated. His hand closed again on my lips.

"Love!" He said, lifting His hand.

"Love," I repeated. He made me repeat it many times.

He touched my eyes and my forehead.

"I am Thy new creation," I said. "Keep me unspotted from the

world." I had been kneeling at His feet. I raised my face and

looked up. That Face of Grandeur, the long grey hair blown about

it, under the stars!
"My Lord!"
"Yes!" with incredible majesty.
"My King!"
"Yes!"
"O Christ!"
There was no answer.
"Word of God!"
"Yes!"
"King of the Seen and the Unseen!"
"Yes!"
"Prince of Peace!"

"Ah. Peace ..." He seemed to sigh the word: from that housetop,

across the world. I shall never forget the heartbreak in the sigh.

Then, turning to me: "I am thy Father. Say: Thou art my Father."

"Thou art my Father."
"I am thy King. Say: Thou art my King."
"Thou art my King."
"I am thy Beloved."
"Thou art my Beloved!"
9 July 1909
Luncheon, 12:30

Our Lord: "How spiritual are our meetings! In the utmost love are

we set aglow! The hearts are all attracted to each other. It is

just like being one soul, one body. Such a meeting as this is

impossible and cannot be organized save through the Love of God.

There is no material interest whatsoever. There is no worldly

desire at all. In the utmost purity and holiness has the Force of

Divinity assembled us. All, with perfect sincerity, are directing

our attention to the Kingdom of Abha, and our greatest desire is

His good-pleasure.

"New pilgrims have arrived from Persia. Souls firm in the Covenant

have arrived. They have come in the utmost love. The Light of the

Love of God is radiant in their countenances.

"Yesterday Mr Kinney asked me concerning music and I promised I

would answer him today:

"Music is of the important arts. It has a great effect upon the

human spirit. Musical melodies are a certain something which prove

an accidental[44] upon ethereal vibrations. For voice is nothing

but the expression of vibrations, charged therewith, which affect

the nerves of the ear. Musical melodies are therefore those

peculiar effects which are produced by vibrations. However, music

has the keenest effect upon spirits. Although it is a material

affair, its tremendous effect is spiritual and its greatest

attachment is to the realm of the spirit.

"If a person desires to deliver a discourse, it would prove more

effective after musical melodies. The ancient Greek philosophers,

as well as the Persian, were in the habit of delivering their

discourses in the following manner: First, there would be musical

melodies, and when the audience had been influenced to a certain

extent thereby, they would leave their instruments and begin their

discourse.

"Among the most ancient musicians of Persia was one named Barbad.

When a great question was asked at the court of the king and the

ministers failed in persuading the king, the matter would be

referred to Barbad. Whereupon Barbad would go with his instrument

to the court and would play the most appropriate and touching

music: and the end would at once be gained. Because the king would

immediately be affected by the musical melodies. Certain feelings

of generosity would swell in his heart, and he would give way.

"You may try this. If you have a great desire for something, if you

wish earnestly to attain your end, try to attain it in a musical

audience. But there are people who are like stones, and music

cannot affect a stone.

"Now let us go back to the original subject: Music is an important

means for the education and development of humanity. But the main

cause for the development of humanity is the Teaching of God.

"Music is like this glass which is perfectly pure and polished. It

is precisely like this clear chalice before us. And the Teachings

and Utterances of God are like the water. When the chalice is in

the utmost state of purity, absolutely clear and polished, and the

water is perfectly fresh, then it will confer life. Wherefore, the

Teachings of God, whether they be Utterances in the form of

homilies, or prayers and communes, when they are melodiously

chanted will proved most impressive. It is for this reason that His

Holiness David sang the psalms with melody in the Holy of Holies

at Jerusalem.

"In this Cause the art of music is of paramount importance. The

Blessed Perfection, Bahá'u'lláh, when He first came to the barracks

often repeated this statement: If among His immediate followers

there were some who could play some musical instrument, for

instance the flute or the harp, or who could sing, it would have

charmed everyone.

"In short, musical melodies play an important role in the outward

and inward qualities of man, for music is the inspirer and motive

power of both the material and the spiritual susceptibilities. What

a motive power it is in feelings of love! When man is attracted to

the Love of God, music will have a great effect upon him."

The Master turned to the window and pointed to a ship on the sea.

"See: a ship!" He said to Alice, who was sitting beside Him at this

meal.

"If we build the Temple quickly," she asked, "and send a ship for

You, will you come to America?"

"I will come of My own volition to America if they build the

Mashriqu'l-Adhkar quickly. But," (sadly and very gently) "they will

not build it quickly."

I was sitting next to Edna Ballora. Taking her hand, I said to our

Lord: "May Edna help me with the meetings in my studio when we

return to New York?"

"Khayli khub. Khayli khub. You love Edna Ballora?" He asked, His

eyes--so holy, so shining--fixed on me.
"Oh yes, my Lord!"
"Very much?"

"Oh so much!" The love already in my heart for Edna was fanned to

an intense flame. It burned; it hurt me.
"Very, very much?"

The Master was still gazing at me, and now I could scarcely bear

that flame in me, in which my heart itself seemed to be melting

away. Tears rained down my cheeks.

"Edna," cried the Master, "behold your friend! It is possible for

fathers and mothers to weep when their children are in trouble, but

it is rare that they weep merely for love of their children, as

Juliet has wept for love of you."

Oh, Heavenly Artist! For one brief moment he had created in me the

Love of God; He had given me a foretaste of that

Love--other-dimensional, superhuman --which with my whole soul I

pray I may attain some day. For without this universal love how can

we hope to work for the Kingdom of God, the oneness of man on

earth?

And, in that mysterious moment, I understood that the universal

love is not "impersonal". I loved not only Edna's soul, but all of

her. I could have died for her.
9 July 1909
Dinner, 9 p.m.

Our Lord: "Tonight Mr Sprague[45] is going to speak to you, because

he has been to Persia and has spent a year in Tihran. Hence he

shall speak."

Mr Sprague: "It is impossible to speak when our Lord is here."

On being further pressed by our Lord, he referred to a meeting

where a Jew, a Christian, and a Muslim were present and, remaining

for the night, shared the same bed.

Our Lord: "Consider what the power of the Covenant has done! It was

an impossibility for a Zoroastrian to unite with a Sid and a mulla

with a Jew. And for these to assemble with a Christian was an

absolute impossibility. But the power of the Covenant has even so

gathered them that they are accounted as one spirit. Although the

bodies are numerous, the spirit is one.

"About thirty or forty years ago, in the province of ... , the

Muslims assaulted the Jewish colony and began a wholesale

slaughter, and only those Jews who, narrowly escaping, could get

to the mosque to confess were saved. The rest were subjected to

wholesale murder. And those who apparently were converted are in

reality, up to the present time, Jews. But many became Bahá'ís.

"Mirza 'Azizu'llah Khan whom you met: his father was martyred, and

his brother at the age of twelve gave his life for the Cause."

At the table that night was a boy from India, brought to 'Akka by

Sydney Sprague, who was taking the child to his own school in

Turkey to educate him. The father of the boy had given his life for

Mr Sprague. It happened in this way: Mr Sprague was then in India,

teaching the Cause and, in his enthusiasm, he remained till too

late in the summer in Calcutta. A plague broke out and the people

died by hundreds. Every hospital was crowded, the doctors and

nurses were all busy. Even the Bahá'ís had their hands too full.

Mr Sprague came down with typhoid fever. One of the Bahá'ís wrote

to another in a nearby town, to a shopkeeper named Kay-Khusraw,

asking his help. Kay-Khusraw immediately closed his shop and made

his will. Then he said goodbye to his family--forever in this

mortal life--and went to Calcutta to nurse his American brother,

whom he had never seen. Under his tender care, Mr Sprague

recovered, but scarcely was he convalescent when the plague

overtook Kay-Khusraw and within a day or two he died.

Mr Sprague told me the whole story. He knew that he must pay a

visit to Kay-Khusraw's family, but he dreaded facing them, more

than anything, he told me, that he had ever had to do. But when he

entered their house, they greeted him with outstretched arms. "Do

not feel sad," they said. "It was right that Kay-Khusraw should

give his life for his brother. Besides, Mr Sprague, you are a great

teacher and Kay-Khusraw was a humble shopkeeper. He could never

have served the Cause as you can."
__________

A sweet picture of the Master: He had sent for us that afternoon

to meet Mr Sprague and the Persian believers and, not being ready,

I put on a dress I could slip into easily. As I passed the Master

standing in His door: "I am afraid I am not dressed well enough,"

I said.

He touched my arm, smiling with the utmost sweetness.

"The Persian believers do not look at the dress, My child. They

look at the heart."
10 July 1909
Morning

Our Lord has just called me into His room with Munavvar.

"I love you very dearly," He said. "That is the reason I am

speaking so freely to you. To others I do not speak so freely. This

is just for you.

"Do you know Miss __________? She came here and was full of love

and aglow. Then she returned and married and her love for the

Blessed Perfection grew cold. Now I want to tell you," (and He put

His arms around me and held me close, and never shall I forget

those protecting arms!) "I want to tell you not to marry this man

until you have made him a believer. Because afterward it would be

more difficult. First make him a believer. You can. Then he will

be a good husband to you and will make you very happy. And he will

be a good believer. I speak to you so freely because I love you so

much. To others I say: 'Do as you like.' But to you I am more

explicit and I say: Do not do this. You only see the beginning. I

see the end. But do your best to make him a believer. You can. He

will become one out of his love for you. He loves you now. The

first love is very strong. After you were married it might not be

so easy. Then he might influence you. I will pray for you and

assist you and you will do this. But do not yield. Do not marry

him, though it take years to make a believer."

Those strong arms of Love gathered me closer--my refuge, my

shelter, my eternal protection. I know that whatever may come in

the future I shall feel in the moment of test: those arms, those

great tender, tender arms. No one knows what such a clasp is save

those who have been in the arms of `Abdu'l-Bahá.

"It is because I love you so that I say this," He repeated. "When

you return," He continued, "say to him: If you will go yourself to

'Akka, you will see that which is beyond conception. If you go you

will find all your conceptions useless in comparison with the Real-

ity. If you go you will be given that for which you would not

exchange all the kingdoms of the world."
"Shall I tell him this from Thee?"

"It is wiser not to--yet," with that wonderful witty smile. "If you

see some softening you may."
"You know him?" I asked.
"I know everyone in the world."
"You love him?"

"Yes, I love him. As you are my daughter, I want him to be my son."

"Is he not the material martyrs are made of?"

"Make him so!" He smiled. "Am I not a kind Father, Juliet?"

"Thou art too kind. I am crushed beneath Thy love and generosity."

"You had a great test about this and you passed it well. Speak;

speak," He said. "Tell Me all you wish to tell Me."

I began to speak of Percy Grant and of his lifework, carried on in

the face of strong opposition and at the risk of his worldly

career.[46] But I stopped very soon, feeling that words were so

futile. My Lord knew all.
When I left Him I kissed the hem of His garment.
10 July 1909

How can such a pen as mine write of superhuman things?

On the morning of 10 July, our Lord Himself took us to the room

where are kept the pictures of The Báb and the Blessed Perfection,

Bahá'u'lláh.

The room is very long and bare. At the further end of it stand

three easels and on each easel a picture. We approached those

Sacred Pictures from afar. To the left, as we approached, was a

miniature of The Báb; to the right a miniature of the Blessed

Perfection and, in the centre, a photograph of the Blessed

Perfection.

The instant I saw that photograph I fell with my face to the

ground, trembling and sobbing. It was as though the Picture were

alive and Something had rushed from it and struck me a blow between

the eyes. I cannot explain it. The power and the majesty were

terrific.

Soon the Master touched me on the shoulder. (I had already risen

to my knees and was staring at the photograph.) He drew my

attention to the miniature of Bahá'u'lláh. "This is a painting.

This will interest you, Juliet."

But my eyes were fastened on the photograph. I could not remove

them, except for a brief moment, from that omnipotent Face.

Yet--dare I say it? I love the Face of `Abdu'l-Bahá more. When I

ventured to tell Munavvar this, she answered, "But if you could

have seen Bahá'u'lláh! That photograph is not good. If you could

have seen His eyes!"

(Footnote. Brumana. Riyad Effendi has just told me a wonderful

thing which explains this feeling of mine. He told it to me in

answer to my guilty question: "Why do I love the Face of the Master

more than the Face of Bahá'u'lláh?" In a hadith,[47] he said, there

is a marvellous prophecy: that in the Latter Days God would reveal

Himself as God; would come, announcing, "I am God." Then, when this

proved too strong for the hearts of the people, He would change His

Manifestation and appear once again in the Form of "The Servant",

that all men might draw nearer to Him.)[48]
__________

Once I said to our Lord: "In a dream one night I saw Thy Face. And

it was really Thy Face. I know now. And in my dream I thought: This

is a Beauty to follow, leaving everything behind. It is a Beauty

to die for."

He leaned forward and looked at me with great solemnity. "That was

a true vision," He said, "and you will see it again."

10 July 1909
Luncheon

Our Lord: "The Bahá'í news from Persia is very good. I cannot tell

it to you--it is not permissible; but it could not be better. The

news of the country is bad, but that of the Cause is exceedingly

good.[49] This is glad-tidings to be given to you.

"Today you had a visit to the Blessed Báb and the Blessed

Perfection."

Mr Kinney: "I shall always see the Face of the Blessed Perfection."

Our Lord: "At the time of prayer one must hold in one's mind some

object. Then he must turn his face and direct his mind to this

picture. But whatever form is produced in the mind is imagination,

that is, one's own conception. There is no connection between it

and the Reality. Therefore people worship imagination. They think

of an imaginary God. That of which they think is not God. God can

never be comprehended. That which man thinks is comprehended by

man, but God is comprehensive. All that comes under comprehension

is outside God. The Reality of Divinity is holy, lofty, sacred

beyond comprehension. All nations worship their images of a god and

these imaginary gods are superstitious phantoms. Hence they are

worshipers of superstitions.

"Therefore the Objective Point of all is the Manifestation of God.

And whosoever directs his attention in prayer to that Focal Point

has directed his attention, verily, to God.

"At the time of His Holiness Jesus Christ the Jews forsook Him,

and would imagine a phantasmal god and would adore that!" (The

Master laughed, continuing to laugh heartily.) "On a certain

occasion the famous heroine of this Movement, Qurratu'l-'Ayn,

chanced to meet a devout Muslim who was praying and questioned him

thus: 'To whom art thou praying, may I ask?' 'I am praying to the

very Essence of Mercy and the Reality of Divinity.' And she,

smiling, said: 'Oh, away with your god! Away with him! Your god is

an imagination! Come, and I will show you the God of today! It is

The Báb! Your god is a phantom, while this is a certainty. Can the

Sea be contained in a little glass?'"

In reply to a question asked by Alice regarding the personality of

the Manifestation: "The Blessed Perfection does not mean His body.

This body is now interred in the Holy Tomb. When we say the Blessed

Perfection we mean the Reality, and the Reality of the Blessed

Perfection is living and everlasting.

"Just as in the time of Christ: the disciples were agitated when

they saw the body of Jesus crucified. Then Mary Magdalene came to

them and said: 'Why are you agitated?' 'Because,' they replied,

'Jesus has been crucified.' 'Oh,' she said, 'that was the body of

Jesus, but the Reality of Jesus is living and eternal. It is not

subject to corruption.' And now so it is with the Blessed

Perfection.

"When I pray I turn My thoughts and My face to the Blessed

Perfection."
10 July 1909
Afternoon

He sent for Alice and me to come to His room to have tea.

First He gave us a beautiful talk about devotion and love toward

each other. "If you show this love toward one another," He said,

"it is just as though you showed it toward Me." He spoke of the

time of Christ, how no one paid any attention to Him while He was

on earth; how He was even spit upon in the streets, yet now His

disciples, and also the women who followed Him, are greatly

glorified.

"In the time to come," He said, "queens will wish they had been the

maid of Juliet."

Then He sent Alice away to dress for a visit to the Ridvan,[50]

where, a little later, we were all going--but detained Munavvar and

me.

"Remember, Juliet," He said, "one hair of Mason Remey's head, or

any other believer's, is worth all the unbelievers in the world."

"Dear Lord," I replied, "I am ready at this moment to do what You

spoke of the other night."

"No, it is not for that I say so; you have passed that. But I want

you to remember that it is a fact. If all the kings and queens of

the world were to come and stand outside My window and offer Me

everything in exchange for you, I would say: 'I should rather keep

Juliet.' You must be like that. A believer at first is like a lamp,

then like a star, then like the moon. And in the Kingdom of God

like the sun. An unbeliever is first like a lamp; then he becomes

extinct! And that is the difference between them! But you will make

the man you love a believer.
"Only," He added, "wait till you do."

He went out of the room. Munavvar and I remained, sitting on His

bed, talking. Almost at once He returned to us.

"You must read Miss Barney's book[51] and Mirza Abu'l-Fadl's[52]

a great deal, Juliet. I want you to progress spiritually and to be

a real daughter of the Kingdom. I want you to be entirely severed

from the world."

Later, after our heavenly evening in the Ridvan, He came to the

door of my room, while I was talking with Munavvar Khanum. She told

Him what I had been saying, that I longed to stay forever and ever,

but knew that, even if I could, it would be selfish; but I felt

like a crying Báby when I thought of going away.

"If you should stay forever," He laughed, "what would you do with

the one you left behind?"

"I forget many things in the Light of Thy Face! I am inconstant to

the world here!"

"Yes, if you should remain, you would forget many things."

On the morning of 10 July, a blessed experience which I had

forgotten to record. Our Lord called Carrie, Alice, and me

separately to His room and gave us the priceless privilege of

seeing Him dictate Tablets.

I sat on the divan, my eyes upon His white-robed figure--I could

scarcely raise them to His Face--as He paced up and down that small

room with His strong tread. Never had the room seemed so small;

never had He appeared so mighty! A lion in a cage? Ah no! That room

contain Him? Why? As I felt that great dominant Force, that Energy

of God, I knew that the earth itself could not contain Him. Nor yet

the universe. No! While the body, charged with a Power I have seen

in no human being, restless with the Force that so animated it,

strode up and down, up and down in that tiny room, pausing

sometimes before the window, below which the sea beat against the

double seawall, I knew that the Spirit was free as the Essence

itself, brooding over regions far distant, looking deep into hearts

at the uttermost ends of the earth, consoling their secret sorrows,

answering the whispers of far-off minds.

Often in that walk back and forth He would give me a long, grave

glance. Once He smiled at me.

At last He called Alice and Carrie back and, taking a seat Himself

on the divan while we gathered around Him on the floor--I in my

place on His left, at His feet--He said: "Letters shower as rain

on me. I write the answers and they are not finished!

"Many come that are difficult to read. Here is one that cannot be

read at all. The man could not write. But he wished to supplicate

to His Master, so he simply made marks."
Alice interrupted with: "May I pray to You?"
Our Lord: "To pray is to supplicate to God."

Dear Carrie had just had a cruel experience with her father, which,

however, she had not mentioned to the Master. Taking a supplication

in His hand, He began to dictate, saying: "This is the answer to

the letter of a person whose father drove him out because he was

a Baha'i. But God granted him a high position. His work has become

very good. His father does not even speak to him, while the son is

very kind to the father.

"This," the Master said to Carrie, "is for you too:

__________
"O thou who art firm in the Covenant!

"Though thy father was not kind to thee, praise be to God thou hast

a Heavenly Father. If the earthly father forsook you, it was the

cause of your obtaining the

mercy and kindness of the Spiritual Father. All that father can do

is to be kind to you, but this Father confers upon you eternal

life. That father will become angry for the slightest disobedience,

but this Father forgives the sins, overlooks the faults and deals

with Bounty and Favour. Thank thou God thou hast such a Heavenly

Father. And I hope thou mayest attain, through the Divine Mercy,

to the greatest Bounty.

"I remember thee; do not be sorrowful. And I am in communion with

thee in every world; grieve not.

"I hope thou mayest become, through the Favour and Bounty of the

Blessed Perfection, the means of guiding others, and in the

community of the world light a candle whose effulgence shall be

everlasting."

We all held our breath, for Carrie's father had driven her out

because she was a Baha'i. Carrie's father would "not even speak to

her".
10 July 1909
Dinner

"It is very good to be able to meet Mr Sprague here, directly from

Persia. He has been in Persia one year. He knows about the

believers very well there. And he enjoyed it very much, because the

believers there are very beautiful. They are in the utmost

condition of sincerity. "Last night I did not eat at all. I only

took a little bread and cheese. Therefore I could not sleep. So I

passed the hours in prayer and communion, walking back and forth."

11 July 1909

Munavvar, Carrie, and I were sitting in the Holy Mother's room. My

thoughts had strayed to the Master's promise for Percy Grant.

Suddenly the door opened, and His luminous Face appeared in the

sunlight against the white wall. He turned upon me His eyes,

overflowing with infinite sweetness, overflowing with the Holy Love

of God. He kept His eyes fixed on me until I could bear no longer

that Divine Love, and, to my shame, I glanced away. But I pray now

that always, when my thoughts stray to earthly things, His Face

will come to me--like this.

Later He sent for me. I sat close at His feet. Folding my hands in

His, looking down with that smile of God, He said: "How many days

have you been here?"
I knew what was coming!

"How many days have you been here? Nine is the utmost. How many

days have you stayed?"
"Twelve, my Lord."

"Three more than the utmost!" Then He told me we must go tomorrow.

Struggling to keep back my tears, I said: "I shall never leave

Thee!"

"No. I shall always be with you in spirit and in heart. You will

always be present with Me. I want you to be happy."

"I can never be unhappy again."

"Those who come to 'Akka in the spirit never can be unhappy again."

"All I want is to serve Thee. Nothing could make me unhappy but to

fail."

"You must never forget what you have heard here. You must never

forget My words to you."
"Do you think I could, my Lord?"

"No, I know very well that you could not." (The divinity of His

Face was almost more than my eyes could bear.) "I want you to live

more and more for the Spirit. I want you to forget everything save

God. Make your meetings as beautiful as you can. They are

beautiful; they are warm, for you have love; but they must progress

in spirit. Read the Tablets first. Read the recent Tablets and the

news of 'Akka. Then speak, yourself, for the strangers who may be

there. I want you to give strong, logical proofs. Read Miss

Barney's book. It will help you. Others also can speak."

11 July 1909

A strange thing had happened that morning. Alice has always

insisted on calling our Lord "Jesus Christ", and gives the Message

in this way, which is very bad for the Cause.[53] Some of the

Persian believers had heard of this.

How it happened that they gathered in the Kinneys' room I don't

know. All I know is that suddenly Carrie ran into our room, saying:

"Come, girls, hurry, something important is going on."

We followed her into her room, to see Mirza Munir and his brother

Amin and 'Inayatu'llah, a young Persian whose name I don't know,

and Mr Kinney all sitting around looking very grave. As I took a

seat, Mr Kinney whispered to me: "We want to thresh this thing

out--about the Master's Station. These Persian brothers may

convince Alice when we cannot."

"I don't believe," I whispered back, "that the Master would want

us to do that. He will straighten it out Himself."

Scarcely had I spoken the words when our Lord sent for Alice. As

far as I know He said nothing to her on the subject.

At luncheon He gave this surpassingly wonderful talk. His Power,

as He spoke, I shall never forget. It flashed from Him. His

translator could hardly keep up with Him. In the midst of His talk,

He rose and paced the small room from door to barred window with

that caged-lion motion, sometimes pausing at the window with its

clear outlook of sea--ah, and its outlook to Him of Heaven and the

hosts of Heaven!--then turning, resuming the strong, rapid stride,

letting flow again the torrent of His utterance.

He wore a black 'aba that day with His flowing white robes and

white turban. The picture is vivid to me still and will ever be:

the strong, black-and-white-clad Figure, the luminous,

ivory-coloured Face against the white wall.

"In the days of the former Manifestations of God no addresses were

given for the kings and no clear warnings were given. If you read

the whole of the Gospel you will be unable to find a single warning

to a crowned head. No prophetic statements were made. No prophecies

of the future were given except in a general way, as, for example,

the prophecies you will find in Isaiah concerning the destruction

of Bábylon and the abomination of desolation in Jerusalem. However,

there is not one of the kind addressed to an individual. But the

Blessed Perfection addressed all the kings. When 'Abdu'l-'Aziz, the

former sultan of Turkey, was at the climax of his sovereignty, He,

Bahá'u'lláh, arraigned him severely and clearly foretold the

upheaval of his kingdom on account of the oppression he had

committed. So this was an address to a distinguished and well-known

man. It is not an address to the general nation.

"Today the greatest nations of the world are Great Britain and

America. It is easy for a man to prophesy that the British Empire

may some day undergo a reverse change, that is to say, become

disturbed, revolutionized, and utterly destroyed. This is also

applicable to France, to Germany, to America--to any of the nations

of the world. For every nation has its day of degradation. Consider

how greatly developed was the Roman Empire and what became its

final condition. Likewise Greece, how she rose and finally also

was degraded.

"The purpose is this: there is no nation exempt from this natural

condition. Namely, it shall have its rise and again it shall have

its fall. It shall have its climax and again its abyss.

"The purport is this: A man can easily address a nation thus: 'O

ye people, verily the day shall come when you shall find yourselves

in degradation!' For example, in Isaiah there is a prophetic

reference to Tyre, also to Bábylon, saying: 'O thou Tyre! O thou

Babylon! Boast ye not! The day will come when ye shall find

yourselves abased, destroyed, and scattered.' His Holiness, Isaiah,

prophesied this inspirationally. But any man can thus prophecy. For

instance, a person can easily address Paris and say: 'O thou Paris!

Be not proud of thy glory, for verily the day shall come when thou

shalt be brought low.'

"These prophecies of Isaiah were fulfilled two thousand years after

they were uttered, but the Blessed Perfection addressed the very

person of 'Abdu'l-'Aziz when he was in the utmost power. He

likewise addressed Napoleon III in person. He said, 'I addressed

thee and thou didst not accept. The Lord Almighty will take away

thy sovereignty from thee.' And exactly as it was prophesied it

happened.

"When the Blessed Perfection was a prisoner of 'Abdu'l-'Aziz, when

He was in the dungeon of his majesty, He prophesied his downfall

and arraigned him severely.

"The revolution now rampant in Persia was foretold by the Blessed

Perfection forty years ago. Read the Book of the Kings. It is also

to be found in the Book of Laws. And this prophecy was made when

Tihran was in the utmost quietude and the government of

Nasiri'd-Din Shah was well established. It is clearly stated thus:

'O Tihran! There will be a great upheaval in thee. The government

will be affected and the disturbance will affect all Persia.' This

was prophesied forty years ago. It was

printed thirty years ago and is to be found in the Book of Kings,

the Suriy-i-Haykal and the Kitáb-i-Aqdas.[54]

"This prophecy, so clearly and evidently stated, printed and

published, is well-known among the people. Therefore, when the

Constitution was granted in Persia, the mullas who took the

Royalist side proclaimed from the pulpit that 'whosoever accepted

the Constitution had necessarily accepted the Bahá'í Religion,

because the Head of this Religion, His Holiness Bahá'u'lláh, had

prophesied this in His Book, and the Bahá'ís are agitators and

promoters of Constitutionalism. They have brought about the

Constitution in order to fulfil the prophecy made by their Chief.

Therefore, beware, beware lest ye accept it!'

"But whatever I write is inspired by the Blessed Perfection, is the

confirmation of the Blessed Perfection. Mr Sprague was in Tihran

and knows; is informed. I have prophesied all these occurrences

clearly, without need of interpretation, not in one letter or two,

but in numerous letters. When the divines overcame the Shah, the

Shah commanded the Prime Minister to go to Qum (?) and bring the

mullas to Tihran. When the divines, with the Prime Minister,

arrived in Tihran, the people showed them the highest respect and

for three nights illuminated the whole city of Tihran as a welcome

to them. They held the reins of the parliament in their hands. They

began to disagree with the Shah. A member of the parliament threw

a bomb at him. The

Shah was brought so low and made so powerless that he was incapable

of governing the assembly. However, he summoned the agitators from

among the divines. The 'Ulama refused to deliver the perpetrators

of the act and said that they did not recognize the Shah.

"At that time I wrote letters to nearly all the cities of Persia,

to Tihran, to Rasht, Tabriz, Qazvin, Khurasan, and many other

cities. I clearly prophesied this condition. You may see the

letters. Mr Sprague knows about them. He has seen them.

"The Muslim clergy had held the forces at work so completely that

the Bahá'ís everywhere were extremely alarmed because of the

apparent clerical supremacy. Notably the Bahá'í teachers of Tihran,

especially Mulla 'Ali-Akbar, sent me a letter which I have now, in

which is this statement: 'When the clergy of Persia were

dispossessed of any power or political influence they persecuted

us unmercifully. Now that they have attained this apparent

supremacy what will they do to us? How great will be our

persecutions and ordeals!' In response I wrote: 'Know ye of a

certainty that this seeming influence and power will vanish.' It

was clearly stated in the most perspicuous terms, and Mr Sprague

can testify to the validity of this. 'The result of this influence

is the greatest degradation and loss. This supremacy will prove the

greatest defeat.' In that very letter I played on these words

'stable' and 'ultimate,' which in Persian are the same, with the

slight difference of a dot. 'They have held to this stable

(stability?) but they have not seen the ultimate of things. They

will become so defeated and conquered that their sighs, moans, and

lamentations will reach the very heavens.

This is a summary. You may find it in detail in My letters. Even

so it was that suddenly the page turned. Their foundation was

razed.

"But I did not write this of Myself. Nay, the confirmation of

Bahá'u'lláh wrote this! Of Myself I did not write it.

"Therefore the beloved of God must refer to Me only as

`Abdu'l-Bahá. This is My glorious crown! This is My eternal

sovereignty! This is My everlasting life! Whosoever questions Me

concerning My Name, My answer is: `Abdu'l-Bahá!
"And thus it ends!"
__________

I was struck dumb at this climax, the miracle of it, the glory and

power of it. Forevermore shall I love the Name, `Abdu'l-Bahá. As

He spoke it, it sounded so triumphant. Verily, it is our battle

cry!

When our Lord had gone from the room--like lightning--Mr Sprague

spoke. He said that when the Tablets came from `Abdu'l-Bahá it was

a great test to some of the believers. They did not see how these

Tablets could be fulfilled literally, because the Shah was so low

that everyone laughed when he was mentioned. No one had any respect

for him. And the mullas were so powerful and the Constitution so

well established it seemed against all reason and absolutely

impossible that the situation should be reversed.
11 July 1909

Our Lord sent Tuba Khanum for me and together we entered the

beloved room. Often as I paused outside to

take off my shoes, He would call: "Come, come, Juliet."

Tuba and I sat on the floor at His feet.
"You are going tomorrow?"

Struggling with my tears, conquering them, smiling at Him: "Yes,

my Lord."
"This is your last day?"
"Yes, my Lord."

As I threw back my head to look up at His wondrous Face, my veil

slipped off.

"I will fix it for you Myself," He said tenderly. "I will fix it

nicely My daughter." And with His electrifying fingers He arranged

it all around my face, crossed it at the throat and spread it on

my shoulders.

My mind flashed back to a dream--I had it in Paris eight years ago.

In this dream I stood in the air with `Abdu'l-Bahá, opposite Him

in the air. His eyes were plunging LOVE through my eyes into my

heart, the unimaginable Love of God, a new Revelation to my heart.

Then He drew from the breast of His robe a white veil, laying it

upon my head, arranging it around my face, crossing it on my

shoulders with fingers that charged me with his life--just as He

was doing now.

Now, sitting in His room in 'Akka, sitting on the floor at His

feet, raising my eyes to that incomparable Face, so beautiful in

age, I saw behind its lines the exact structure of the young

Face--the never-to-be-forgotten Face of my dream, when I had met

Him in the air.

"My Lord," I cried. "Once in a dream you put a white veil on my

head."
"That I did long ago," He answered.

After a pause He said, so gently: "Tomorrow it will be goodbye."

"Yes, my Lord."

"When can you come again?" Ah, what a sudden sunbeam!

"My Lord, how can I tell? Thou knowest. And I should like to say

this: though dear Laura Barney was Thine instrument, it was through

Thee that the doors were opened for me to come home to Thee. So,

when Thou wishest me to come again, I know that again Thou wilt

open the doors for me."

Then happened something of which I must not speak, only--He opened

the doors.[55]

"Come in the spring," He said. My King! "What do you want to ask?

Speak."

"Only for the strength to serve Thee. I have realized the meaning

of this prayer: 'Except Thy concealing veil cover us and Thy

Preservation and Protection favour us, this weak soul has not

enough power to employ herself in Thy service and this indigent one

not enough wealth to present a rich appearance.'"
"I am glad you see this now."

"I pray that I may give my life--that I may suffer--and sacrifice

everything in Thy Path."
"You are suffering now."
"But I pray to sacrifice all in Thy Path."
"You may."

"I would sacrifice everything for unity in New York."

"You will bring about unity in New York."

"Oh, how can I thank Thee, my Lord! I can do nothing for Thee

without Thee!"

Then I begged that I might see His Face in vision.

"You may."

Once during this interview, as twice before, He had looked for a

long, long time deep into my eyes, His face inscrutable.

He had said that I was suffering. I knew it. Never had I been so

conscious that my body was a dark prison. My soul yearned toward

Him and beat against bars. There He sat, overflowing with Divine

Love, tender past all comprehension--past expressing in human

language--the Centre, the Focus of that Love which holds all worlds

in its mighty grasp. And I, an atom at His feet, the worthless

recipient of such Love, not only was utterly impotent to return it

(the word "return" is sacrilege!), but could not even realize That

for which my poor heart was breaking with gratitude. Oh to be

grateful enough! my soul cried.

To be blind in the Presence of the Sun; that is not what I mean.

To be a blind beggar, loving my so munificent King to Whom I owed

life, love, all--to whom I owed even this burning love for

Him--that is nearer. No where could I find a gift for Him, for Whom

my heart longed to expand its very lifeblood--nowhere could I find

a gift for Him that He had not first given me!

"Think of Me often," He said. "Think often of what I have said to

you. Appreciate these moments. Think! If you were living in the

time of Christ, if you were Mary Magdalene at His feet."

Covered with shame, I made an effort to realize this. All I seemed

able to realize was a consuming love for that wondrous Face. What

it was my poor mind could not grasp.
"Some day I shall realize?"
"Yes."

"My Lord, I no longer look forward to life, but to service for a

few years and to meeting my Lord in His Eternal Kingdom."

"This is as it should be. We will be together forever in the

Spiritual World. But My Spirit will be with you here always--My

daughter."

Lifting the hem of His garment, I pressed a long kiss upon it.

11 July 1909, 9:30 p.m.

That night our Lord gave a feast for the Persian and the American

believers. It was held in the rear wing of this great old house,

in a beautiful long hall with many arched windows and many palms.

Seventy Persian believers had come, marching across the stony

mountains--a procession of seventy, chanting as they marched. The

had come on foot, had walked for three months, because to their

reverent spirits there was no other way humble enough to approach

the Presence of `Abdu'l-Bahá. Among them were Jewish Bahá'ís,

Muslim Bahá'ís, Zoroastrian Bahá'ís, all united in the passionate

belief that the Promised One of his own Sacred Book had at last

appeared on earth.

And when all were seated at the long table, our Lord became our

Servant. Passing the platters around the table, course after

course, He manifested His Servitude, while the seventy pilgrims

from Persia sat with bowed heads, silent in the most profound

humility. In that Feast, it seemed to me, I was having a foretaste

of the future, when all mankind will be one in devotion to the

Greatest Name.

When it was over and all had partaken of the food served by the

hand of the Servant of God, the aspect of the Master changed. Now

He paced up and down the full length of the table, His tread the

tread of a conquering King, His white robe, His white hair, His

white turban in the soft candlelight enhancing His ethereally. Ah,

like the Christ He was then! In that soft candlelight, His Face was

eternally young. Serenity shone on the brow of the Prince of Peace.

He was like silver!

"Tonight," He began, "is a beautiful night because, al-hamdul'illah

(Praise be to God!), the believers of America and Persia are joined

here at one table. This is one of the great fruits of the Word of

God.

"In the future the East and the West shall become one. They shall

be united. I have said in My letters that the East and the West

will become as two lovers. That each is beloved of the other. That

the East and the West will take one another in their arms will give

one another their hands, each as the beloved of the other, each

embracing the other.

"The unity of mankind will be the beginning of the radiation of

this Light. Our gathering tonight around such a table is one of the

evidences of the human unity. Generally speaking, such a gathering

would have been impossible, that is, that Persian and Americans

should sit around the same table. Praise be to God, such things

have taken place through the power of the Word of God.

"Verily, since the early days of childhood I have devoted Myself

to the Word of the Beauty of Bahá'u'lláh, and have forborne every

difficulty and calamity, among these imprisonment for all My life,

to lay the foundation of the oneness of mankind.

"All the different sects of the world hate and antagonize one

another. Were it possible, they would kill one another. Each of

these sects pretends that it is established and is acting according

to the law of God. Exactly the opposite is the fact. All the Divine

Words lead the people to unity, because they were spoken for life,

not for death! And the Divine Teaching is a Power that attracts the

hearts, through which all the different sects and nations will be

attracted.

"You find that the different sects are in hatred toward one

another. But you should be lovers of all sects and nations and all

the different parties of people. You should love them and consider

them as of your own families. Do not look upon them as separated

from you. Bahá'u'lláh has said that all of you are as branches of

one tree, leaves of one branch. That is, all the people are of one

tree. Therefore, all things that cause opposition should be

removed. Consider everyone, of every nation or sect, as one of your

own family. Deal with them with love and harmony. Never be the

cause of any sorrow to anyone, neither the cause of any

embarrassment. Bear all sorrow, for yourselves and to please all

hearts, even the hearts of your enemies. Be true to all the

different parties or nations and act toward them with faithfulness.

Take care of the properties of others more than you do of your own,

and never do any harm to those who show animosity. If you do thus,

you are a true Baha'i. Be submissive and try to control self.

Follow the ordinances of God--do not follow your own desire--that

ye may be ready always to be helped by God.

"Be sure that the different nations will curse you, blame you, bear

animosity toward you and harm you.

They will even act in such a way as to shed your blood. Beware not

to cause any sorrow to them, not even to injure the feelings of

anyone with a word. Do nothing to cause any sorrow within any

heart. These are the qualities of the Bahá'í people."

He left the room. Our Sun set. Oh, how intensely, intensely I love

Him! I can scarcely see for my tears at the memory of that silver,

shining Figure! May my life be His sacrifice!

After His Words I cannot write the words of others! Dear Mirza

Haydar-'Ali, "the Angel", spoke.[56] Then one of the Persian

pilgrims recited a stirring chant which he and his companions had

sung as they journeyed from Persia to 'Akka, the refrain of which

ran thus:
Praise be to thee, powerful
Hand of `Abdu'l-Bahá!
May my life be a sacrifice to the mighty
Hand of `Abdu'l-Bahá!

Munavvar and I went to the housetop alone that night and, so tired

were we, we slept under the stars till our Lord came and woke us.

To me He said: "Your heart is Mine. Your eyes are Mine. Your brow

is Mine. Your lips are Mine, for speech. Today you are My new

creation. Say: Thank God."
"Thank God."
"Say: Thank You."
"Thank You--`Abdu'l-Bahá."
"Ah ... `Abdu'l-Bahá," He repeated.
He put a ruby ring on my finger.
12 July 1909

She anguish of parting. Blind with tears, I kissed His door. No one

saw me. Blind with tears, I descended the dear stairway, my ladder

to God, the irregular steps of it worn by His feet. Each step in

the beloved court, as I crossed it for the last time, was

unspeakably precious to me.

In the passage leading from that Heavenly Shelter to the outer

world, I met Mirza Haydar-'Ali.
"I shall await your call from America," he said.

My voiced was choked. I could scarcely answer. To dear Husayn Ruhi

I could only nod.

My Lord was in His garden, but He left it, came forward, and

hurriedly passing our carriage as He turned toward the house, said

"Goodbye"--smiling in the sunlight. The pure profile, the grandeur

of His head, a sweep of His shining robe--and He was gone!

I am glad I have written to the very end in this book. I am glad

that no words will follow His, that no figure will pass through

these pages after His Sacred Figure has so passed out.

When Mary had anointed the feet of her Lord with the precious

ointment she broke the alabaster box.[57]
[Blank page]
Beirut, Syria
7 August 1909

Permission that has just come from my Beloved, from my Lord and

King to return to Haifa! This Tablet is in His own hand. We sail

tomorrow!
Miss Juliet Thompson. Upon her be Bahá'u'lláh.
HE IS GOD!

"O thou who art attracted by the fragrances of the Love of God! I

pray for thee and seek help and assistance from the favours of God.

... Come to Haifa. Go directly to the Household, or to Mirza

'Inayat'ullah's house ...
(signed) Abdu'l-Bahá Abbas
__________

(Footnote. 24 February 1922, 4:30 a.m. I remember, with intense

yearning for those days of life, the afternoon when that Tablet

came. In the morning I had said to Mr Kinney: "I couldn't endure

it if I should have to return home without seeing our Lord once

again." Then, in the late afternoon, the sudden appearance of

'Inayatu'llah. The Kinneys had gone to a party at the Manassehs'.

I had lingered behind, longing to be alone that I might finish

copying in this book notes I had taken in 'Akka. Just as I was

writing those final words: "When Mary had anointed her Lord with

the precious ointment she broke the alabaster box"--there was a

knock at the door and 'Inayatu'llah looked in! "Our Lord has sent

for you, Juliet," he said. "I have a carriage at the door.")

Haifa
13 August 1909

Oh day of days! This morning I gave up my will; I silenced my

heart's last murmur. Three days I had waited on the rack to hear

from my Lord at 'Akka hoping--not daring to pray for it--yet

longing unutterably to be summoned. But no word came. Then, after

I had prayed at dawn, I felt a wonderful peace. When all things are

left to His Will, I said to myself, the design takes perfect shape.

Beauty undreamed of blossoms upon our days. So, at noon, while

Farah-Angiz was reading English with me, suddenly Khanum Diya ran

into the room crying: "Juliet, our Lord!"

I flew to the door and saw, at the door of Madame Jackson's house,

where the Family lives in Haifa, the Master's carriage. With the

Great Afnan, the only companion of The Báb now living, my Lord was

entering the House.

I went to my, room and put on fresh clothes. Then I came out and

sat on the steps, riveting my eyes on the House that enclosed Him.

At least in my love I may be like Mary who sat at the feet of the

Christ of her day; and the little house of 'Inayatu'llah, so

associated with our Lord, might be the house in Bethany:

flat-roofed, low, white, with its arched doorway and its two

cypress trees. So I sat, looking, longing, loving, till He sent for

me.

He was sitting in His cool, airy room, in a large chair. How He

smiled as I entered and knelt! Taking my place at His feet, I

kissed the hem of His garment. When I

looked up, once more, into His magical Face, I received a new

revelation. Never had it looked so beautiful, beautiful to me! He

gazed down at me with the smile of Divinity.
"How are you?"

"So happy. Oh, so happy! How can I ever thank Thee for Thy Love and

Protection? May I pour out my life in servitude to Thee!"

"I have come from 'Akka," He said, "especially to see you." He

talked smilingly for a while about my unexpected return. "No

pilgrim," He said, "has come back after such a few days. But you

have."

But again He said: "How long were you in Brumana?"

"Years, my Lord!"
And He answered: "Yes, that is true!"
"I learned much in Brumana, my Lord."

"And when you return to America you will see greater results of

your visit. I knew you would not like it in Brumana." He continued,

"I knew you would have some trouble there, but you had to go

somewhere for the vacation and I knew that Haifa would not be

well."
"Did you hear my heart crying to You, my Lord?"
"Yes, I heard. I knew."

It is impossible to imagine the consolation of those words, so

often repeated: "I know; I knew."[58]

"When you go back to America, you must hide all that has happened.

You must say nothing about it. Never speak of it to anyone."

"No; oh, no!"

He asked about Carrie Kinney, what she was doing in Brumana; and

on my saying, "Many good works," 'Inayatu'llah explained, told our

Lord of our helping Dr Manasseh with the poor and sick. We had

nursed till she died a poor girl who had been fatally, horribly

burned and had assisted the doctor at a number of operations

performed without anaesthetics.
"Bravo! Bravo!" said our Lord.

He then spoke of X, said He had sent for me for my sake. Not that

He did not forgive, for He always forgave. Not that He did not feel

sorry for her. He would never have spoken of it but for my sake.

He always forgave. But He wanted to save me from an ordeal. Then

He told me of things she had done in Cairo, by which she had broken

her promise to Him, and mentioned the unpaid bill of Nassar in

Haifa.

"My Lord," I said, "there is one thing I want to supplicate for.

For the sake of the Cause, may I pay that bill?"

At first He refused to let me, but later consented. Then He looked

at me with divine sweetness and said in a voice like a breeze from

Heaven: "I love you."

"Oh my Lord," I cried, "make me good; make me good!"

Still looking me at with that sweetness, with that smile of magical

charm, He answered: "I will make you good."

Then He sent for Ruha Khanum. She came in and sat on the floor

beside me.

"Your sister," He said. "Your sister! Do you love her?"

When He called His own daughter my sister, tears sprang to my eyes.

"Do I love you, Ruha Khanum?" I asked.

He spoke much more about X, said when I saw her I must always be

kind to her and give her money if I could, but that I must not

travel with her or associate with her as a companion. I must only

associate with those who would help me to become spiritual, who

would help me to sever myself from everything save God.

"I was trying to run before I could walk!" I smiled. "I thought I

could help her, when all the time I needed to be helped myself."

He laughed in that wonderful way, humorous beyond human humour,

with a wealth of sweetness in it.

"Even Christ cannot help some people," He said. "How can you expect

to?"

But He said He felt very sorry for X. He forgave her and He would

pray for her.

"Did she say she was going to America?" He asked. "She cannot go

to America! If it were not for you and for Mrs Maxwell, who got her

out of America, she would have been arrested. And you might have

gotten into trouble there, too, with the government--ah?--if it had

not been for the protection of God. God protected you because your

purpose was good. I know many things!"

Just at that moment someone came to the door. He told me to remain

in the house and that He would send for me later. So I stayed in

the great white hall with its slender columns, looking out toward

the blue Bay of Haifa, though no longer did I need to look toward

'Akka, the casket that had lost its Pearl--its Pearl of great

price. And at last He sent for me.

I went into His room to find Him on the divan, having tea with His

sister, the Greatest Holy Leaf, His half sister, Furugh Khanum, and

Ruha.

The majestic profile, touched with the Divine sweetness, which, as

I sat on the floor at His left, I saw against the light of the

window, is graven forever on my memory. The sweep of its line; the

compassion in the forehead and lift of the brow; the wonderful

pure, strong line of the large aquiline nose; the delicacy of the

upper lip and mouth--that strong, strangely sweet mouth with the

full, but straight lips; the sensitive modelling of cheek and

temple; the perfect ear.[59]
Then began a play of humour.
"How much money did Miss X take from you?"
"Not very much, my Lord."

"How much? I know she took it, but I just wanted you to confess!

How much?"

"Too little to mention. And through her I have received a great

blessing--the greatest of all my joys--this day with You."

He laughed. "And now you are going to pay her debts! If you are as

wealthy as that, why don't you pay My debts? That would be

something to do!"
We all laughed at this.

"You cannot," He continued after a moment, "love May Maxwell

enough, or Mrs Brittingham.

"Or," He added, "Mrs Kinney. For I love them, and to associate with

them will cause you to advance spiritually."
15 August 1909

That was a happy visit to Him--may my soul forever be His

sacrifice! In the evening again He sent for me.

He was sitting on Ruha's balcony in the starlight. Ruha and I sat

behind Him in the room on the window seat. As He spoke to us He

turned His profile. Once He turned almost fully around and, with

a kingly glance, said: "I love you."

"My Lord!" I said softly. Then in a moment, gaining courage,

leaning through the window: "I love You. I love You, my Lord!"

The royal look changed to divine sweetness. He smiled.

With Ruha translating, he began to talk to me:

"As Christ said, the Word is like seed. Some seed falls upon barren

ground and withers; some upon stony ground. This springs up, but

as the soil is not deep, it too soon dies. Some upon ground full

of weeds which choke it. These weeds are like the ideas that fill

the minds of some men. They hear the Word, but their own ideas

choke it. But some seed falls upon good ground and brings forth a

hundred-fold.[60] I hope that the seed of My word will bring forth

a hundred-fold in you. Now it is just beginning to sprout. This is

just the beginning. Now I am blowing the Breath of Life into you.

If you adhere to My Words, if you obey My Commands, you will become

entirely illumined. Some visit 'Akka who have no depth, no

capacity. They go back and deny, like ..."

"Thou alone knowest the hearts," I said, for a moment terribly

afraid. "Could I ever be like her?"

"No, I did not mean to compare your heart with hers. Your heart and

hers could not be compared. In yours is a great love. From the

beginning she had no love. This is the balance: the Love of God.

By this balance you may

know the people: if they love God." After a silence, "Look at Queen

Victoria. She was the greatest woman in the world--and what do you

hear of her now? But the maidservants of God are like stars in the

horizon. This you cannot see today, but in the future it will

become clear. Consider the disciples of Christ."

Looking up at the stars, far up into the heavens, He added, "The

maidservants of God in the other world are like stars. They shine

and radiate.

"Queen Victoria was a great woman, but what do you hear of her now,

after these few years! But upon your head God has placed an eternal

crown. He has bestowed upon you eternal sovereignty. He has given

you eternal life!"

"Dear Lord, if I were to sink into oblivion, if I were to be

forgotten like Victoria, still I should want to pour out my life

as a sacrifice to Thee for love of Thee."

"It is not the name I meant. It is not for that. I know you do not

want to serve for that. I meant the results. Queen Victoria has no

results. But see the results of Christ's disciples!"

"The Kingdom of God," He continued, "is like a market. Some go home

poor at the end of the day, having lost what they had. Others come

and gain great wealth. Now you have come to the marketplace ..."

He was interrupted just then and, after the interruption, began

another theme: "From what city are you? From what city are We? You

are from the West; We are from the East; yet you are Our intimate

friend. You are the sister of Ruha Khanum. I am kinder to you than

your own father. You are dearer to me than a daughter. What greater

proof do we need of the power of the Word of

God, that the East and the West are united in such a way?

"Now if you want to please Me," He said suddenly, "you must make

Mrs B. happy. That is the next thing you have to do! You must do

everything you can to please her. You must make her so pleased with

you that she will write Me a letter about you! Try as hard to make

her happy as you tried with Miss X," he laughed. "Your friendships

must not be for personal reasons, but you must love the people

because they are beloved my Me. But it is easier to please God than

to please people! I must go now," He said. "Would you like to come

and have supper with Me?"

I followed Him to Madame Jackson's house. There He called me into

the reception room and motioned to me to sit beside Him.

Then, one by one, with bowed heads, with hands crossed on their

breasts, the Persian believers entered. I was the only woman in the

room. He invited each one of them to sit near Him, but their

reverence would not allow it. I felt mortally ashamed of myself for

my own temerity--and yet it had only been obedience--and I had left

one chair between! They sat, their hands still crossed on their

breasts and with lowered eyes, while our Lord, the majestic Centre

of the Covenant, with His matchless simplicity, talked to

them--laughing, smiling, evidently seeking to put them at their

ease and make them more natural with Him--yet never for a moment

losing His sublime majesty.

Ah, such a King the world has never seen! When He walks it is with

the step of the Conqueror of the world. He seems treading earth in

triumph, the whole earth

under His feet. Yes, "the earth is His footstool"--no more![61] The

ring of His step I shall never forget. It will ring through my

life!

That afternoon I had watched Him ascend Mount Carmel. As I stood

in the arched doorway of the little Palestine house between the two

cypress trees, watching His carriage start from His house filled

with pilgrims, He, a Monarch, in the centre. He looked long and

intently at me. Later, while I still stood gazing up the hillside

toward the Tomb of The Báb, I saw Him appear at the door of the

Tomb, luminous in His white robes with the sunlight full upon Him:

like the resurrected Christ!

"How beautiful upon the Mountain are the feet of Him Who bringeth

glad-tidings, Who publisheth Peace."[62]
__________

But to return to that blessed night when I had supper with our

Lord: Once in the midst of His talk with the pilgrims, He turned

to me and, smiling, said: "You know Persian?"

Though the others had not raised their eyes, my love (and my

ignorance) had given me courage and I had been feasting mine on

Him.

"I see!" was my presumptuous answer. Oh, I know I am crude and an

infant in such things, or I too would have kept my eyes lowered.

At the table that night He talked to Miss Gamblin, a young

Protestant ex-missionary who is acting as govern-

ess now to the children of the Holy Household--a poor girl

resisting with all her little strength the great sweetness and

wisdom and love of the Lord. It was wonderful to hear Him talk with

her. There was something eager in His kindness, a beauty of

compassion, which she could not see as compassion.

"Miss Gamblin! Which do you like better: Haifa or 'Akka?"

"Haifa, I think. I like Haifa for some things and 'Akka for

others."
"For what reasons do you like Haifa more?"

"Because here we are free to go out. Here we have liberty."[63]

"But in 'Akka there is a beautiful Garden."
"I have never seen a garden in 'Akka."

"And here there is no Garden. In 'Akka the Water is very good."

"And here," said Miss Gamblin jeeringly, "there is no water!"

"In 'Akka," our Lord went on, "there is a Meadow. Here there is

none." He spoke of the unbelief of the Jews when Christ came. With

His consummate wisdom He made her say that they were veiled by the

prophecies because they were waiting to see them literally

fulfilled.

"Did not Christ say He would come like a thief in the night?" He

asked.[64]

"Ah! But He also said 'every eye should see Him!'"[65]

There was quite a note of triumph in her voice!

"Every eye, yes," smiled the Master. "Those who do not see Him are

spiritually blind. You love Christ?" (gently).

I had never before seen that cold little face light up.

"Oh, yes."

"So do I," said the Master gravely and with great tenderness. "No

one in this world loves Christ so much as I."

"How do you think Christ will come?" He went on. "Have you studied

the science of the skies? You know what clouds are composed of? How

do you think Christ will come?"

"Oh, I don't think that Christ will come from a material heaven,

but from that place--no one knows what it is--where the

imperishable part of us goes."

"Bravo! Bravo!" said our Lord. "I am very much pleased with your

answer."

After supper He went to call on the French Consul.

The next day our Lord was to leave us, to return to 'Akka. He had

planned to take me with Him, but He changed this. He thought it

wiser, Ruha explained to me, that I should remain in Haifa till

the Kinneys came.

In the morning I rose with a bleeding heart--with a hunger and

thirst to see our Lord, to crawl in the dust behind Him all day,

kissing His every footprint if I might. Once He passed the house

and went up the mountain little way. Ah, "beautiful upon the

mountain, His feet"! I crept to the corner of the wall and gazed

down the road into which He had turned. That day He was wearing a

gold-brown camel's hair coat over His white flowing robe. His coats

are the Persian 'aba, sweeping almost to the ground. And no 'aba

hangs like the Master's. He was on His way to see a sick boy.

Later He sent for me. I found Him at Ruha's house. As He was tired,

He said, would I excuse Him if He lay down? And He lay on the

linen-covered divan, while Ruha and I sat at His feet.

Taking my hand in His, holding it close, pressing it with those

vital fingers, He looked at me, smiling divinely. I burst into

tears. I could not control them.
"What is it?" He tenderly asked.

"I love You so. I love You so. It kills me to separate from You."

"I am never separated from you. I am with you always, in every

world."

"I know. But I want to see You. Oh why do You go away today?

I should have been sent from the room, but instead He answered me

with the infinite patience of the Divine Love. "Because I am busy.

Because I am busy. I am invited to something this evening.

Otherwise I would not go. But I will come to see you again,

Insha'llah."

Again I burst into a flood of tears. "His Love is too great. I

cannot bear it," I said to Ruha Khanum. Quietly He rose and left

us, but He told Ruha to follow with me.

First, however, she took me into the room of the Holy Mother, who

had been ill. But there too I cried. I could not help it, though

it distressed me terribly to be so inconsiderate.[66]

"Don't cry so much. You are not used to it," said the dear Holy

Mother. "If you cry you will become like us, pale."

"If by crying I could become like you, I would cry till I died!"

Tears came to the Holy Mother's eyes. "I am weeping," she said, "at

the thought of the great calamities for which I wept once."

Just then our Lord sent for me. He placed me at His feet and with

those exquisite fingers wiped away my tears, looking down with the

tenderness of God on me.

"Don't cry! Don't cry!" He said in English, in that voice of

piercing sweetness, of heart-wringing Love. "If you cry, I cry!"

"Today I lunch with you," (smiling, trying to comfort me). "Don't

cry! Don't cry! I love you."

"Ah, that is it!" I replied. "Your love is too strong for the human

heart. My heart breaks under it."

Still trying to comfort me, He said: "Mariam Haney spoke much of

you. She said you were beautiful, but I find you more so."

Little Maryam, His grandchild, came in. "I give you Maryam!" He

smiled.

Oh wealth of Love--as I felt it, again my tears flowed.

"If you cry, I will slap you!" And He did! Then He held out His

hand to me.

"Which will you have: slap, or fist?" (In English, laughing).

"Which is better?"
"Whichever you give me."

He took my hand, held it, pressed it. He had risen from His chair

and now began walking back and forth. Every moment or so He stopped

beside me and with a strange gravity gazed into my upturned face.

Never shall I forget the Christ-Face shining above me then, its

celestial purity. The sunbeam of His smile had vanished. He was

like a vision, like a star! Oh, ever-varying Face, manifesting all

God's Beauties!

I lunched with Him, at His side. After lunch once more He called

me.

"See how I love you!" He said. "I have sent for you three times

today. Three times." He held up three fingers. "Now this is a

secret. Go to My sister, Khanum, and ask her to supplicate that you

may come to 'Akka. There is a wisdom in this."

I lifted my eyes to His, speechless, in ecstasy. "I had given it

up!" I said at last. "When shall I ask Khanum?"
"Tomorrow."

Soon Khanum came in. As she sat on the floor near me, He said: "You

love Khanum?"
To my shame, I began to cry--again!

"See! She cries from love," the Master said. "Of love. From love?"

(in His dear English). "You very much love, Juliet. Khanum too

loves you."

Then the others came to have tea with Him. And after this, He left

for 'Akka.

When His carriage had gone, I climbed the mountain alone. I climbed

very high and sat on a rock facing toward 'Akka, so that I could

watch that blessed carriage moving along the crescent beach till

it disappeared in the distance. And from my seat on the rock I

spoke out loud to my Lord, Who by that time was miles away.

"In all things I submit to Thy Will, my Lord, for Thy Will is the

Will of God. Thou art the Lord of Hosts. Thou art the Word of God."

__________

The Master denied the supplication of Khanum. When I heard this I

wrote Him a brief line to say that I was content with His Will. I

said nothing more, yet when His answer came, written in His own

hand, He repeated the

very words I had spoken to Him from Mount Carmel--those words of

recognition--when His carriage was miles away.
O thou who art attracted to the Kingdom of God!

Thy letter was received. Its contents proved firmness and

steadfastness. Thank God that thou hast believed in the Lord of

Hosts, were attracted to the Word of God and became the

manifestation of Godly Favours. Realize these heavenly gifts and

serve the Holy Spirit.
(signed) Abdu'l-Bahá Abbas
18 August 1909.
It is weary waiting, this waiting to see my Lord.
18 August 1909
Later

Day before yesterday, in the blessed company of Khanum and the Holy

Mother, we climbed Mount Carmel to the Holy Tomb and the Carmelite

monastery. We went into the chapel of the monastery. On the altar,

surrounded by candles, sat the Madonna, a crudely carved wooden

doll, life-size, with a scarlet spot painted on each cheek and

draped in jewels and satin. From a rose-window high in the opposite

wall--a window that faced 'Akka--rays streamed to a pool of light

on the floor. Then, in marched the brown-robed monks and knelt in

the pool of light, their backs turned to 'Akka, their bowed heads

to the altar. The rays poured on their backs as they prayed to the

wooden doll. My thoughts were running on this, condemning the

monks, when Khanum slipped her arm through mine.

"It is good," she whispered, "to be here together in a place built

for worship."

Later, in the Cave of Elijah, I saw her standing by the altar

there, that wonderful face, second only to the Master's, raised to

the crucifix; her eyes lowered once or twice to the image of the

Virgin prostrate beneath it. Ah, well could she understand such

suffering. My tears flowed as I watched her.
21 August 1909, 6:30 a.m.

The King, with His court, come yesterday to stay in Haifa till we

sail, for the Kinneys and Alice also came yesterday.

A king and his court? Faint comparison! What king ever moved with

such majesty and glory? What court ever followed with such love and

submission?

I am sitting on the steep, rough steps of 'Inayatu'llah's house,

between the two cypresses, and on the steps of the beautiful House

opposite--that white and stately House opposite--sits the King!

With Him are Mirza Asadu'llah and 'Inayatu'llah.

Yesterday He came at sundown. He sent for us all. We found Him in

the reception hall, surrounded by those wonderful Persian

believers. Yunis Khan, Badi' Effendi, and Mirza Munir[67] sat by

me. He gave us a heavenly talk which I shall have to include in my

notes, for in this little book there is just room left for His

words of love to myself, those tender and exquisite personal talks

of which I would not lose one word.

One of these I had last night. I entered His room and sat at His

feet.

"I hope you were not hurt, Juliet," He said, Ruha Khanum

translating, "that I did not let you come to 'Akka. You must be

happy because I am so unconstrained with you and feel that I can

be frank."

"Every command of Yours, since it comes from You, is dear to me."

"That is the sign of true love. I know your heart!"

"I pray that my capacity may be widened so that I may appreciate

more and love more."

A wonderful look came into His Face. He bent over mine and wiped

my eyes. This is what He always does when I am yearning to love

more, when my heart is bleeding because it cannot love enough. Even

when my eyes are dry He does this. Is He--when my eyes are

dry--wiping future tears away?

"I have been suffering," I said, "because I can give You nothing."

"You have given Me your heart."

"What is this heart to give! It is not pure enough. Dear Lord," I

asked, "would it be good for the Cause if I should marry Mason

Remey?"[68]

"It would be very good for the Cause," the Master answered me, "if

you could do it from your heart."

"I will marry him gladly," I said--my heart as heavy as lead!

"You ought to want to love him, because he is so beloved by Me."

"Yes," I repeated, with a dead voice! "I will marry him gladly."

"Try to love him little by little. Little by little," (in English).

Then He dismissed me. As I was leaving, He went to His table and,

taking a Persian sweetmeat from a box, put it into my hand.

"I give you sweets," He said.

He asked me to come back and dine with Him. "But don't tell Mrs B!

Do everything you can," He said, "to make Mrs B. happy."

"I will."

Outside in the road, in the light of the crescent moon shining

above Mount Carmel, I ate the sweets from His hand. "All that comes

from Thy hand is sweet," I said aloud. "Lord, help me to love Mason

Remey!"

The great figure of Percy Grant, with his strong beauty and

magnetism and his distinguished mind, I resolutely put away from

me. To give my body to one of His beloved: could I do more than

this? I thought. Then I laughed at the thought. After all, what is

this body? As He said once: "What does it matter what happens to

the body?"
22 August 1909

My heart is breaking. Today I must leave Him. The Kinneys have had

some trouble with their money--their cheque from New York has been

delayed--and having too little to travel with, they asked

permission last night to stay on in Haifa till the cheque came.

At sea (after leaving Cairo for Naples, via Alexandria)

27 August 1909
Just at that moment our Lord sent for me.

My heart is almost too full this morning to write. If I write

brokenly, it will be but a truer expression of my heart--my

life--as I journey away from my only Beloved into a future of

suffering, of utter sacrifice, into the Valley of Death. Yet if I

suffer, it is for Him. If I sacrifice all, the sacrifice is for

Him. If my goal is the Valley of Death, I die but to live in Him.

This morning I have felt those delicate, vital fingers wiping the

tears from my eyes.

The thought of marriage with Mason Remey has been a torture to me.

When, the other day, my Lord spoke once again of my marrying "His

son", with a new note of significance which woke in me a sharp

awareness of all that this implied, I writhed in agony. But in a

moment I lifted my face to His and said, "Thy Will be done."

To give my body to be burned would be easier, when I think of the

years and the years ... Yet I glory in the martyrdom. I desire no

less. "My body is yearning to ascend the cross." I pray that it may

come quickly. "A wound from Thee, Lord, is remedy and poison from

Thy hand is honey." If only I could suppress these tears, or

rather, rise above shedding them. On the death of her youngest son,

the Mother of our Lord smiled.[69] She knelt

at the feet of Bahá'u'lláh and asked: "Is my sacrifice accepted?"

Oh, to sacrifice in such a spirit!

I know now why my Lord called Ruha my sister. She was married in

the same way. But why am I so weak? I am going forth to serve Him.

Why should I think of myself? How can I think of myself at all? In

the ages to come, if this pitiful record should remain, how my

sisters of the Future will wonder that a thought of self should

have entered my mind, that I could have wasted one thought on my

human body. And since I am doing this thing to be freer to spread

the Faith, for them too I am going through with it. I feel a great

surge of love in my heart toward them.

Two Tablets I received last winter come back to me now, two that

reached me together, in the same envelope. In the one I read first

was this: "I hope that the utmost love may be realized between you

and that person (Percy Grant) and that thou mayest be assisted to

cause him to enter the Kingdom of God." And in the second: "I have

supplicated and entreated at the Threshold of Oneness that thy

utmost desire may become realized. The desire of the sanctified

souls is always sacrifice in the Path of God ..."

May God strengthen me to face Percy Grant when I return to New

York! May God strengthen me in my future relation with him! And as

I recall that second Tablet I know that a fierce ordeal is before

me. Surely this "utmost desire" of mine, this burning desire of my

heart now--"sacrifice in the Path of God"--must be proven. God help

me! Perhaps only through such a sacrifice could Percy Grant be

brought to the Kingdom. So let me die for my Lord and His beloved

ones.
__________

To return to the sweetest story ever told, the story of those

incomparable days in the Presence of my Lord. I shall not begin

where I left off but will go back a little.

On the morning of 21 August, I had waited long and hungrily, with

a burning heart, for my Lord to send for me. Waited in the little

doorway between the two cypress trees, my eyes fixed on the white

House opposite, on the stately steps, watching for Him to appear

upon them--on the long windows of His room. As the hours went by,

the fire in my heart grew unendurable. My heart was scorched,

seared: consumed. Suddenly, just at that instant when I felt I

could bear it no longer, He came out and stood on the steps. He

showed Himself only for a moment, but Khusraw at the same time ran

to call me. I eagerly followed. When I reached the House the Master

was in His room with Ruha and Munavvar Khanum.
"Did you hear my heart crying to You, my Lord?"

"Yes. That was why I sent for you. I should like you to be with Me

every moment," He said. "I want you with Me all the time. If it

were according to wisdom, I would have you here with Me always. But

it is not wise. Otherwise, you should be always with Me. I want you

to feel this."

He spoke much of Alice and His desire that I make her happy. He

told me He wished me to be His real daughter, not a daughter in

name but in very reality, so that if "His daughter in America" were

mentioned, all would know that I was that daughter. Then: "In

regard to Mr Remey," He said, "you need not do this thing. It is

not

compulsory. No one has the right to force your feeling. I have not

the right. But if you can do it from your heart, if you can love

him, I wish it very much."

"I wanted to speak about this, my Lord. I have only loved deeply

once and I could never give such a love again. But since I have

seen Thy Face, I have learned the reality of Love. I have learned

that the human love is unnecessary, that it is only a step to the

Divine Love, so that I can put it aside. Now, on the other hand,

there is this man I have loved, his feeling for me and my hope to

make him a believer ..."

"It would be very difficult to make this man a believer and you

know this," said the Master. "I am sorry," He added gently, "but

I must say these things to you.

"And if I should marry Mr Remey," I asked, "it would mean a great

opportunity to serve the Cause? It would be good for the Cause if

I should marry him?"

"Most certainly," answered our Lord, "such a union would be

productive of great good in the Cause. We will see," He continued,

"how he feels about it, and if you and he both wish it, it is My

wish. I love Mr Remey very much."

"I have always loved him," I said. "He did so much to bring me into

the Cause."
"He has brought many into the Cause."

He kept me to lunch and all through the afternoon, and His

daughters and I had tea with Him. After tea, He went up to the

Tomb.

For a while I sat in the big white hall, facing the blue Bay of

Haifa, talking with the Holy Mother and Ruha, Munavvar, and Diya

Khanum. They mentioned Fu'ad, a nephew of the Holy Mother's who is

ill, and who lives

near the top of the mountain with his beautiful sister,

Ridvaniyyih.

"How is he?" I asked. Ruha and I had lately visited him.

"I haven't heard for the last few days," said Ruha.

"I believe I will go and see," I said.
"Will you go alone to the mountain?"
"Yes, unless you can come too."

She could not, so I went alone. To be alone with Mount Carmel is

always a thrilling experience to me. As I approached Fu'ad's house,

Ridvaniyyih ran out of the door to meet me, her veil and her braids

flying, her face all aglow. "Our Lord is coming, Juliet!" she

cried. I looked up and saw Him, His Persian disciples behind Him,

coming through a grove of fig trees. How I had prayed to be with

Him on Mount Carmel! With Ridvaniyyih, I went into Fu'ad's room and

it was there the Master found me.

"You here, Juliet!" He exclaimed. Then He called me to sit beside

Him. Fu'ad knelt at a little distance. Almost at once our Lord rose

and crossed over to Fu'ad. He lifted the bandage from his eye, felt

his pulse with a tender touch, looked at him long and lovingly. So

I saw the Christ healing the sick.

Later He sat for some time on the broad stone terrace in front of

the house: Ridvaniyyih, the Persians, and I grouped around Him. He

sat silent, gazing toward the Bay. Then suddenly, up went His

hand--high, His eyes rolling strangely upward with such a

breathtaking, seeing look, as though He were greeting Someone in

the sky!

At last He left us. Ridvaniyyih and I, our arms around each other,

watched Him descending the mountain. Two

or three times He turned and waved to us. In the distance, in the

sunset light burnishing His long white robes, He appeared like a

"pillar of fire".

I soon followed Him. But before going home, I wanted to say goodbye

to Nuru'llah Effendi's wife, who, because she has consumption,

lives on the mountain alone, in a little house made of branches.

But I lost my way and had to stop an Arab to ask if he could direct

me. He was a wild-looking creature, in a short tunic and a long

head-cloth, and with a sort of satyr's leer. He seized my hand and

began to skip with me! I must say, he frightened me. Still I felt

a lovely exhilaration as we skipped lightly along, the satyr and

I, till he safely deposited me at the little house made of

branches. The wife of Nuru'llah was radiant. Our Lord had just

visited her, and the fragrance of His Presence lingered in her hut.

Going home in the dark, I met Mirza Hadi. "The Master," he told me,

"has sent me to find you. He says you should not be alone on the

mountain."

When I reached 'Inayatu'llah's house, the Master had just left it.

"He was here asking for you," said 'Inayatu'llah. "He paced up and

down the garden, repeating: 'Juliet should not be alone on the

mountain.'"

I went flying to Him to let Him know of my safe return, and of

something else. One of the Persian believers had told me that if

a group of Americans should stay here too long as guests of the

Master, it might make trouble for Him with the still-watchful

Turks. So the Kinneys' decision to wait in Haifa till their cheque

came had worried me very much and I had thought of a plan which I

wanted to speak of to our Lord.

But when I entered the reception room I found Mr Kinney there with

Him, Mr Kinney kneeling and in tears, our Lord bending over him

lovingly.

"I told you to go tomorrow only because you pressed me for a date,

but stay. Stay. I want you to be happy" (with the sweetest glance).

Then He dismissed Mr Kinney.

When I was alone with the Master and Shoghi Effendi--that beautiful

boy--who was also in the room, translating, I spoke of the Kinneys'

financial troubles and of some money I had--treasured up--for the

most sacred purpose.[70] If my Lord approved, I said, I would lend

this to the Kinneys.

"No," He replied, "they are waiting for a large sum of money, a

very large sum: five thousand francs. You have been troubled about

this." He rose and walked up and down, but soon seated Himself.

"The Kinneys," He said, "may be here for a long time yet--for a

month or two. Their money may not come very soon. Could you stay

so long? Would you have to return to your affairs?"

"Oh no!" I said. "No, I shouldn't have to return. But I will do as

you think best."
A month or two in Haifa--near His Presence!

"I want you to be happy," He said, "to do what makes you happy."

Just at that moment Munavvar came in and our Lord took us into His

room. Again and again He questioned me. What did I want to do? Did

I want to stay? Would it make me happy to stay? He wanted me to be

happy.

"To do Your will makes me happy. I cannot express a

wish. I only wish what You wish, my Lord. I want to leave

everything now in Your hands."

"Then I will tell you what I want you to do, and I want you to do

this for Me very much. I want you to take Mrs B. home. Take the

boat tomorrow night. Go to Cairo and then straight home. Take to

the believers what you have received here." He gave me many

instructions about Alice.

That night He kept me very late. First I had supper with Him.

Afterwards Ruha, Munavvar, and I sat in His room.

"I wanted to keep you here all night, your last night. I wanted you

to be with us. But there is no unoccupied room in the house."

"I have heard that once a believer stood all night outside Your

door. I wish I might have that privilege," I said.

"It will be the same," He answered gently. "You will be watching

with Me while you are at 'Inayatu'llah's house."

I shall never forget that last night. The candle burned dimly in

the room. Ruha, Munavvar, and I sat on the floor at His feet. At

times He was silent. At times He talked tenderly with us.

Though I should have remembered His words that I was "watching with

Him", all night I tossed and turned, tortured by the thought of the

marriage before me--tortured because I must leave my Lord so soon,

so soon, must leave the protection and comfort of His Presence--the

Heaven of His Presence--and go back into the world to face that

marriage.

At six-thirty in the morning He sent for me. He met me with a grave

face.

"How are you?" He asked. "Did you sleep well? You should have slept

well. It is cooler at 'Inayatu'llah's than here." Then He waved His

hand toward the House. "Find Munavvar Khanum."

When I found her, she said: "Our Lord called you just to see you,

just to see how you were."

He left the House then and went to 'Inayatu'llah's. Pacing up and

down my room, as 'Inayatu'llah told me later, He began to speak of

me. He asked how to spell my first name and said it was a beautiful

name. He spoke very beautifully of me, 'Inayatu'llah said.

"Is she happy and content in this simple room?" He asked.

I see now that in this room He was gathering up my thoughts of the

night: registering my misery.

Soon He returned and invited some of us to tea--the Ladies of the

Household and Edna and myself. First He spoke to me, then to Edna.

Oh, if only I had written down those last few talks, taken them

down from His lips! The sufferings of the days since have blurred

them in my mind. I had been thinking, during that last awful night

at 'Inayatu'llah's, of my wonderful life in New York, a life of

such thrilling interest mentally. I had thought how complete the

sacrifice would be in having to return, the wife of Mason Remey,

to the city I have always hated: Washington. Yet one ray of truth

had dawned on me: Percy Grant, so gifted, so powerfully magnetic,

so dominant, might, because of my weakness and humanness and the

strength of my attachment to him, veil my heart from my Lord. This,

Mason Remey, the angel, could never do. So, that last morning in

Haifa, the Master answered these two thoughts. Physical things, He

said, interfered with

spiritual development. Then: "When you travel you must shake from

your shoes the dust of every city through which you pass."[71]

I shall never forget the surpassing sweetness of His smile that

morning. He kept me in the House for hours. Later I went with Ruha

to her house. While we were talking we heard His voice. "Our Lord!"

cried Ruha. We sprang up to meet Him at the door and He led us to

Ruha's living room.

Ah, infinitely tender He was that day, that last day! Brokenly I

thanked Him for all His Bounties. "And for all Thou hast done to

sever me. I want nothing now but Thy Will."

"Yes. I know," He said, bending over me, looking profoundly into

my eyes. Grave, ineffably loving, sorrowful, that look. That He

suffered for me, with me, was intolerably clear to me.

Oh, I must stop suffering! When our hearts bleed, the Divine Heart

bleeds. It is true. I had one more evidence of this a little later.

While I was with Him at Ruha's house, the Master had invited me to

lunch, and as soon as He left us, I hurried to 'Inayatu'llah's to

change my dress. But people were in my bedroom, which is also the

living room--a believer was calling on Khanum Diya--and I couldn't

suggest to them to go! When at last they did, Khanum Diya assured

me I had time to dress. But then, the devil got into me: I wanted

to make myself as beautiful as I could! And everything went wrong;

it was like a nightmare! I chose an elaborate white lace dress,

fastened in the back with hooks-and-eyes and my fingers couldn't

find the right

hooks. I tried to put on my veil, a rose-coloured one with a

border, in the most becoming way, and couldn't arrange it

becomingly enough! And before I was through adorning myself,

Khusraw ran in with an appalling message: the Master and the Holy

Household were already at the table!

By the time I reached the House and the dining room, the Master had

risen from His seat and was washing His hands in a basin near the

window. He asked me to please excuse Him for leaving so soon, He

had only taken a little soup.

I sat stricken with an awful shame: speechless with shame, as I

realized overwhelmingly the disrespect I had shown to our Lord in

keeping Him waiting--and all because of my vanity!

He came back to the table and repeated: "Ask Juliet to excuse Me

for leaving her so soon. I only took soup today." And while He

spoke He looked at me, such grief in His eyes as I could hardly

bear, such grief because He had to punish me. Then He turned and

went out of the room, having had nothing to eat. To inflict that

so necessary punishment He had sacrificed His midday meal.

The rest of the meal was, of course, pure agony to me. I could not

hold up my head in the presence of the Family. Besides, a great

geyser of tears kept rising in me and it was all I could do not to

burst out crying. At last I escaped and returned to

'Inayatu'llah's.

But no sooner had I taken off my miserable finery than the Master

again sent for me. I slipped on a simpler dress and rushed back to

the beloved House, where Munavvar met me.

"Our Lord," she said, "just wanted to know where you were and

wanted you here."

We had our afternoon rest, Munavvar and I, in the reception room.

Suddenly the Master stood in the doorway, beckoning us to His room.

There, He led me to the mirror and standing close to my side, took

my face in His hand and pressed my cheek against His, then told me

to look in the mirror. So majestic He was, He appeared stern and

His Face shone with a white glory beside my flushed, earthly face.

Again He reminded me of a Star. So I saw myself in the clasp of the

Good Shepherd, and, in that ineffable picture in the mirror, I saw

my Lord's promise that He would be always protecting me, always

watching over me.

Once, during the morning, while I was alone in the reception room,

the Master came from His room into the hall and, standing in the

shadow against the white wall, like a Spirit in His white garments,

He looked at me long and steadfastly. Suddenly love welled up in

me and I smiled. A smile of intensest sweetness, of heavenly

brightness, broke over His Face; He tilted His head to one side

with tenderest charm, as though He were playing with a child. Once

more He came out, gazed gravely at me, gazed almost longer than I

could bear--so frail is the human spirit before the Force of Divine

Love--and then, like lightning, vanished.
__________

Early in the afternoon He called me into His room. "How are you,

Juliet?"
"Happy," I answered, through tears!
He looked at me with questioning, smiling eyes.

Still, underlying my anguish, there was happiness, that my

sacrifice had been accepted.

"I love you," He said gently. "I love you very much."

Then He began to talk to me, His aspect abruptly changing to one

of great majesty. If only, only I had writ-

ten down those last instructions! All I can do now is to quote

fragments of them.
"How many days were you in 'Akka?"
"Twelve, my Lord."
"How many days have you been in Haifa?"
"Twelve."

"Twelve. Always twelve. You have received in those twelve days that

which was given by Abraham to the twelve tribes of Israel. You have

received that which was given by Moses. You have received that

which was given by Christ to the twelve apostles; that which was

given by Muhammad to the twelve Imams. ... You have served me in

America. Your house has been the centre for the believers. You have

loved them and shown kindness to them. Now I want to give you some

instructions.

"The time you devote to your art is your own; you are free to use

it as you wish. But when you enter the meetings, I want you to

concentrate upon spiritual things. Read the prayers, the Tablets,

sing hymns, give the proofs. I want you to give strong, logical

proofs. ... Never let anyone speak of another unkindly in your

presence. Should anyone do so, stop them. Tell them it is against

the commands of Bahá'u'lláh; that He has commanded: 'Love one

another.' Never speak an unkind word, yourself, against anyone. If

you see something wrong, let your silence be your only comment. ...

Be firm and steadfast. Do not waste your time with light people."

There was more: much more. How could my memory serve me so cruelly?

Soon afterward Alice and Carrie arrived at the House. As Alice came

in, our Lord continued: "Be firm and

steadfast, and if you are firm and steadfast, be sure that no one

who really belongs in your life will be lost to you."

He then told Alice that He wished us to love each other. His words

were so heavenly that Ruha, as she listened, wept.

Just before we drove to the ship Ruha called me, alone, to our

Lord. I knelt at His feet.

"Don't let me cry! Don't let me cry!" I implored, catching hold of

His 'aba.

He took both my hands, and God's Love gazed through His eyes into

mine. "Remember My words to you, obey My commands," He said, "and

you will marvel at the results."

I dare not attempt to quote Him; everything else He said has

escaped me. All I can bring to my mind now is that Face of divine

compassion looking down at me, the strong hands that clasped mine,

the grief that consumed my heart.

"I have given you so much, Juliet," (this comes back to me)

"because I have desired your spiritual progress. You can make

spiritual progress. Now you need the power of discourse. When you

begin to speak in the meetings, never think of your own weakness,

but turn to Me."

"My only desire is to follow Thy Will. But there is one thing I

long for, Lord. May I become worthy to always keep the vision of

Thy Face?"

He bent over me with a look of profoundest love, and of assent.

"My mother and brother, Lord: protect them--under all

circumstances."

Again that low bending over me, that assent. "I will pray."

"I am bound to Thee, Lord, with a cord that can never be cut."

And with this I broke down, and hiding my face on His knee, I wept.

After a moment He lifted my face and, for the last time, wiped away

my tears with His fingers.

When He dismissed me, I raised to my lips the hem of His robe and

pressed a long, long kiss upon it.

He followed me to the door of His room. Taking my hand, He held it

against His side. "Give My love to Lua," He said. "Tell her I am

always with her in spirit."

To me He said: "I want you to return a new creation, so that all

will see that you are another Juliet, with another attraction."

__________

That night on the boat, my eyes fixed on Mount Carmel--the lights

of the Tomb glowing yellow through the moonlight, the fragrance of

the Spirit of the Lord diffused from that Sacred Spot--I wept my

heart out.

"Forevermore, my Lord, is my heart linked to Thee by this

suffering. Forevermore," I cried, "am I chained to Thee!"

I remembered His words of a few days before: "I suffer. You must

suffer with Me." And my suffering became my treasure of treasures.

Mary broke the alabaster jar and poured all her precious ointment

over the feet of her Lord. And last Sunday I broke my heart over

the feet of my Lord--poured out all the love it contained at His

feet. No more love have I now to give. It is given--to Him.

He told me that He would strike me, and, as He said it, He laughed.

So many I "endure the cross, despising the shame."

Diary of Juliet Thompson: Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

With `Abdu'l-Bahá in Thonon, Vevey, and Geneva
23 July to 23 November 1911
48 West Tenth Street, New York
8 April 1936

"Love devastates every country where He plants His banner."

In 'Akka I had looked upon the Mystery of Love and of incarnate

Sacrifice. I returned, this vision filling my eyes, blinding me to

all lesser values. This, and the fact that I was so immature both

spiritually and in worldly wisdom, caused me to become, myself, the

instrument of the devastation. But I devastated not my country

alone, but others. When, this winter, I read my diary of 1910, I

was crushed with shame, and remained so for weeks, because of my

blind, cruel blundering all through that awful year. Then came a

flash of what I believe to be perception, and this has comforted

me. My Lord, `Abdu'l-Bahá, Who "saw the end" where I saw "only the

beginning" (and in Whose compassionate hands are the lives of all)

had, in reality, offered me two choices: first, my own will; then,

His Will--or what appeared to be His Will. Though I played my small

part so miserably, at least I chose the Master's Will. When in my

extremity I still clung desperately to His Will, He released me

from my engagement to Mason Remey. As for "the other man": as I

review the whole drama of my connection with his life, ending in

tragedy, it is clear that at every crisis, something diviner than

fate stood between us. `Abdu'l-Bahá, had another plan for me. And

this, I believe, was His plan from the beginning.
[Blank page]
S. S. Lusitania. Atlantic Ocean!
Sunday, 23 July 1911

Nothing could have been further from my thought than that I should

begin this volume somewhere off the coast of Ireland! I had

expected to begin it in our new home: a small, very old house on

Tenth Street, from the windows of which, if I lean out just a

little way, I can see the tower of the Church of the Ascension, and

even--the rectory!
But there came a Call ...

Ten days ago, on 13 July, I received a letter from Ahmad.[72] To

my infinite surprise, for I had only just heard from the Master,

I found it contained a Tablet. These are the words of the Tablet:

O Thou who art attracted by the Breath of the Holy Spirit!

When thou wert leaving to return to America and this made you sad

and unhappy and you wept, I promised I would summon you again to

My Presence. Now I fulfil that promise. If there is no hindrance

and you can travel in perfect joy and fragrance, you have

permission to be present. In this trip there is a consum-

mate wisdom and in it praiseworthy results are hidden.

Upon thee be Baha'u'l-Abha.
(signed) Abdu'l-Bahá Abbas

In Ahmad's letter was the amazing news that the Master was on His

way to London to attend the Universal Races' Congress which was to

open the following week and last for three days.

"If you can sail in a week," wrote Ahmad, "you will find our Lord

in London."

I leapt over every "hindrance" (and three of them were high walls)

and within the week, with Silvia Gannett, boarded the Lusitania.

Just before I left I broke the news to Percy Grant. He said

something blasphemous--violently--then did something to break my

heart.

Well, that is no "hindrance," I thought, I can leave him to her.

He spent the last evening before I sailed with me.

"Don't you want to send a message to the Master?" I asked.

A mocking look came into his face.

"He sent you one," I went on, "from 'Akka, when I was there. But

I have never been able to tell you about it, because whenever I

have mentioned the Master to you, Percy, you have answered in a

flippant way. But I can't go back to Him now until I have delivered

it.

"I spoke of your work to Him and He called you 'a great soul'. Then

He invited you to visit Him. I can repeat His very words. 'When you

return, say to Dr Grant: If you will go yourself to 'Akka, you will

find that

which is beyond imagining. If you go, you will find all you had

imagined useless in comparison with the Reality. If you go you will

receive that for which you would not exchange all the kingdom of

the world.'"

"That was a very whole-souled message," Percy replied. "Tell Him

that if He comes to New York I will welcome Him gladly. Tell Him

I think He would find New York a big enough field even for His

great work!"
"I don't think that message will do," I said.

"Tell Him, judging by His fruits," (with a meaningful look at me)

"His Teaching is the most beautiful spiritual force in the world."

"I shall certainly not tell Him that!"

"Tell Him I am very happy to have a share in those fruits--"

"No; nor that either."

"I can't suit you with a message! Well, tell Him I feel that what

He is trying to do in the world is very beautiful and potent."

Then I gave up!
S. S. Lusitania

I should like to write of a dream I had two days before my Tablet

came, for I think it is something that should be kept.

I had been praying at dawn. Afterwards, putting the Master's brown

'aba over my bed and hoping for a vision, I fell asleep.

I awoke in a vast, dim crypt, with many aisles branching away into

utter darkness. I was standing, alone in the crypt, beside an

enormous grey sarcophagus. Then in

the far, far distance, I saw two figures in white, in long robes

and turbans, walking out of the shadows in my direction, and I

recognized the Master and Mirza Haydar-'Ali, "the Angel of 'Akka".

Something is going to happen; I shouldn't be here, I thought. But

I can't escape now. There is nothing to do but hide. And I crouched

behind the sarcophagus. The next picture in my dream is of the

Master and Mirza Haydar-'Ali bending over the sarcophagus. Then

they lifted its lid and dropped into it, drawing down the lid after

them. Now I could make my escape! I tried to steal away on tiptoe,

but before I had taken a dozen steps, my shoes creaked! At this,

the Master rose from the centre of the sarcophagus, His face

unsmiling--stern.

"You may stay," He said, "but keep perfectly still."

Once more I crouched, holding my breath.

First there was an awful silence; then, from within the

sarcophagus, I heard the strains of a solemn chant; then groans,

followed by blood-freezing screams. And I thought, What can the

Master be doing to Mirza Haydar-'Ali?

But somebody else was in that sarcophagus. The end of it suddenly

burst open and out of it dashed a figure racing up and down so fast

that all I could see were flying garments and a shaven, bluish head

with a black fez on it. At last, exhausted, he sank to his knees

on the ground, shielding his face with one arm. Then he rose and

crept back into his coffin.

Then, down every aisle of the crypt came armies on the march, a

standard-bearer with a flag leading each regiment, so that soon all

the flags of all the nations drooped above the sarcophagus as the

armies gathered around it. And then I saw a lovely woman standing

among the flags. She wore a long white tunic, her hair was bright

gold, and she radiated light.

While I watched this brilliant and formidable scene, wondering how

`Abdu'l-Bahá could be concerned with a pageant, the figure with the

bluish head and the fez again broke open the end of the

sarcophagus. But now I saw: Satan himself! Now he was naked, fully

exposed, with a white body and great dark bat's wings springing out

from his shoulders--even with the orthodox tail and hoofs! And now

he stole from his hiding place and, like a

serpent--sinuously--wound his way in and out between all the

standard-bearers, creeping under all the flags, wriggling his way

among all the armies, all the national groups!

The dream changed. I was in New York, in the Peoples' Forum. Percy

Grant was sitting on the platform in the Parish Hall and his

mother, Sylvia Gannett, and I standing among the empty chairs just

vacated, I knew, by a large audience. I bent to kiss Mrs Grant. She

looked up, her eyes full of tears.

"I have seen Him," she said, "the Master. He spoke to me. Oh, there

was never such a Face in the world!"
"You have seen Him!" I cried. "Where was He?"
"In here; a moment ago."
"But--a moment ago He was in the sarcophagus."
Then Percy rose and went out. London
Friday, 4 August 1911

I am still in London, waiting for the Master to come. He did not

attend the Universal Races' Congress. They had asked Him to speak

on philosophy and to make no

reference to religion, so He sent a representative,

Tamaddunu'l-Mulk. (Tamaddunu'l-Mulk is about four feet high and his

name means The Civilization of the Country.)

The three days' conference opened with an ode written by Alice

Buckton. Here is one verse: They come! Who come? Listen! What

thunderous tread of viewless feet From citied walls where waters

meet, From isles of coral foam; From Western prairies red with

corn, From sacred temples of the morn, They come!

True British idealism! The last session ended in a brawl. Annie

Besant ("Pa, with Ma's bonnet on her head," as Mrs Standard called

her) took the platform and hurled the monkey wrench.

"This talk is all very well. But what about India?"

Then--the uproar in crescendo till the very last minute!

When I hear that the Master was not to be at the Congress, I cabled

to Him for instructions. The answer came: "Wait."
London
9 August 1911

I have just had another cable from our Lord. It says: "Remain."

Here in London a little group is humbly preparing for His coming.

Devoted hearts are waiting for Him. Every night we all gather at

dear Miss Jack's and pray.

The English believers have been so kind to me: dear Miss Rosenberg,

dear Mrs Knightley (who calls me "cousin", since we have an

ancestor--Lord Edward Fitzgerald--in common), Mrs Stannard--the

most fascinating woman, whom I met in Beirut two years ago and

immediately loved; Lady Blomfield; the Jennens; Miss Faulkner; Miss

Buckton; and others. And our own believers who are here: Maud

Yandall, the Chicago friends with their warm hearts, my beloved

Isabel Fraser, Miss Pomeroy, Rhoda Nichols, Albert Hall and

Mountfort Mills. And, of course, little Tamaddunu'l-Mulk. Post

Office Telegraphs: Thonon-les-Bains
22 August 1911
THOMPSON, 5 SINCLAIR ROAD, LONDON.
COME HERE. HOTEL PARC.
(signed) Abdu'l-Bahá France
23 August 1911

(We are on the way to the Master, Tamaddunu'l-Mulk and I, and

though we are sitting up all night long in a second-class coach

with a family of four Swiss peasants--oh, we are so happy!

Oh, tomorrow! But I cannot imagine tomorrow. Tomorrow I shall be

with Him in Europe, in the mountains of Switzerland.

The "Sun of the West" moves toward the West, and, in this majestic

advance, this thrilling moment in time and in eternity, when, in

His actual Presence, He rises and shines on the West, He has

blessed and honoured this humble child of His by calling her to His

side. All day, as

[Photograph: A group of Bahá'ís in London (c. 1912).]

I travelled through France, I seemed to be hastening toward Him

down a path of white radiance.

How strange! It was 13 July, two years ago, when I tore myself,

weeping, from my Lord in 'Akka. It was on 22 August, that I said

my heartbroken goodbye to Him in Haifa. This year, on 13 July, came

His Tablet, "summoning" me again to Him; and this year on 22

August--yesterday--the summons to Switzerland came.

Tamaddunu'l-Mulk is asleep. I shall spend the night in prayer.

Wonderful night! More wonderful: the Daybreak! Hotel du Parc,

Thonon, on Lake Geneva
27 August 1911

A great white hotel. At its entrance, two oleander trees in bloom.

Inside, high ceilings, white walls, glass doors, rose-coloured

carpets, rose-coloured damask furniture. Beyond the green terrace

with its marble balustrade, Lake Geneva. Behind the hotel, two

mountains overhung with clouds. In the halls and strolling through

the grounds: gay, artificial, dull-eyed people. Passing among these

silently with His indescribable majesty, His strange Power and His

holy sweetness, the Master--`Abdu'l-Bahá--unrecognized but not

unfelt. As He passes, the dull eyes follow Him, lit up for a moment

with wonder.

I found my beloved Laura and her dear husband, Hippolyte

Dreyfus-Barney, already here.
__________

(It was Laura who gave me the Message, bringing to me the greatest

of gifts in earth and heaven and changing the whole direction of

my life. It happened in this way: I

had been almost fatally ill and was slowly recovering in Washington

when I said one day to my brother, "Coming so close to death makes

you think. And I have been thinking lately that it is time for

another Messenger of God." The very next day Laura burst in on me,

taking me by complete surprise, for I had not heard of her return

from Paris. "Yesterday, Juliet," she said, "I was in Bar Harbor.

Tomorrow I sail from New York for Palestine. But I couldn't sail

without first seeing you to tell you why I am making this

pilgrimage. Juliet, the Christ-Spirit is again on earth, and--as

before--He is in Palestine."

During my illness, the night of the crisis--months before Laura

came to me--I actually saw `Abdu'l-Bahá. In the midst of physical

anguish and with darkness closing down on me, I had felt a great

pulsation of love from the head of my bed and thought that my

mother must be sitting there. I turned and, instead, there sat a

Figure built up of light, with a dazzling turban and hair like a

flow of light to His shoulders, and with His hands cupped on His

knees. Jesus is here, I thought peacefully and glided away into

sleep. And when I awoke the crisis was passed. Later my mother said

to me: "That night of the crisis while I was praying I saw a great

Light shining beside your bed.")
__________

On the morning of 24 August, on my way to the door of my Lord, I

met the last person on earth I would have looked for, Percy Grant's

friend, Dickinson Miller.[73]

"You here!" I gasped. "I always wanted to tell you about this."

"Why didn't you?" he asked.

I left him in a moment, I could not wait, and flew up the long

white hall (blessed hall where His voice and footsteps ring!) till

I came to an open door. Tamaddunu'l-Mulk had already entered. I

paused at the door. Then I saw ... saw once more after these years

of unspeakable longing: my Father, my King, and my Beloved.

He was just moving forward in the room, His white robe, His black

'aba sweeping in lines of strange grace, dominated by that head of

immortal majesty. In an instant I was at His feet.

I have no words to tell it. Can words paint Glory? The smiling Face

that looked down on me then, as though from high heaven? One thing

I know: God always smiles--smiles mysteriously.

"Are you happy, Juliet? Happy to be here? How many years since you

were 'Akka?"
"A lifetime!"
He laughed.

"You had a long wait in London? When did you arrive? You were put

to trouble to wait?"

"Oh no! Your Presence was with us in London. The friends were very

kind to me. And if I was waiting, it was for You, my Lord."

"Or course the friends were kind. The believers must all serve one

another. I want you to be the first handmaiden of God. I am the

believers' first Servant. You know how I serve them."

I covered my face with my hands, for I realized our littleness and

saw Him as the Word of God.

"How is your mother?" (in English) "Your mother? She is good--very

good?"
"She is always good."

"She is pleased with you?"--looking at me archly, knowing quite

well she was not!
"Not very, I'm afraid," I laughed.

"The day will come when she will be pleased with you, when she will

be very proud that you have received such bounty and favour from

Bahá'u'lláh."
"Will it come in her lifetime, Lord?"
"Insha'llah!" Then He nodded His head assuringly.

I had been exhausted when I came, after staying up all night long;

I had not been able even to wash. But suddenly from His Presence

I felt Life flowing, rushing toward me; I felt an electric current

revivifying me, and when I went to my room and looked in the

mirror--afraid of what I might see in it I found that I had a

bright colour and my lips were brilliantly red.
__________

(Footnote. When we arrived at Geneva in the early morning a train

for Thonon was just about to start. Not even to wash could I wait

for the next train! There was no time to telephone or send a wire

to the Hotel du Parc, so that, naturally, when we reached Thonon,

no one was at the station to meet us. Nor was there a conveyance

of any kind. Only a wheelbarrow! "All right, Mulk," I said, "we'll

take the wheelbarrow. We'll put our luggage on it and walk behind."

"Oh, we couldn't do that!" said the elegant little Persian. "I

can," I replied. And we did--and arrived at the Hotel du Parc on

foot behind the wheelbarrow!) Vevey, Switzerland
28 August 1911

I am in Vevey with Edith Sanderson. My heavenly Visit is over. Yet

I am not separated from Him.

"We will never be separated." He said to me. "I shall be with you

always. You will go back to America and I may return to 'Akka, but

we will be together." Geneva
31 August 1911

I sailed from Vevey today down the Lake of Geneva. There was a

heavy mist and the mountains loomed like phantoms through it. The

lake, full of swans and white sails, gleamed. The Swiss shore was

veiled to a tender green, its chalets and villages blurred like

etchings on blotting paper.

From Lausanne I strained my eyes toward Thonon. Then, suddenly the

boat turned and made straight for the French shore. My heart

leaped. We were going to Thonon: Thonon, my Paradise!

Ah, there were the fishnets spread out in the sun; there the grove

of trees at the landing with that brilliant foliage--such a

polished green that it looks wet--and in the dark shade under the

trees, the lily-bed; there, there His hotel, white against the

mountains. I could even see the window of His room!

Eagerly I searched the faces at the landing. Surely little Mulk

would be at the landing, to meet me and take me back to my Lord.

It must have been for this that the boat had docked at Thonon.

Hippolyte, Laura perhaps ... No. There was not one soul I knew.

With unspeakable desolation, with a sense of utter helplessness,

I found myself carried away from Thonon. Heaven was behind me then!

The perspective of the mountains changed. The rowboats rocking on

metal waves, the funicular railway, the grey old house with its

shaggy brown roof which Laura

and I had found so interesting--all the familiar landmarks become

in those four full days intensely intimate--receded and were

blotted out by the mist. The hotel only remained, a "White Spot",

seeming to grow with the distance miraculously whiter, flashing its

message to me as long as it could; for, though at last the mist

dimmed it, it was not till a physical object intervened, not till

a ridge of the shore came between, that it vanished from sight.

Then came a frantic desire to communicate with Thonon. This cannot,

must not be the last, I thought. I will telephone Hippolyte as soon

as I reach Geneva.

In the Hotel de la Paix I went straight to the phone.

"Ah Juliet!" said Hippolyte's dear voice. "Do you know that the

Master will be in Geneva tomorrow? He wished me to get into touch

with you to tell you that He was coming. And He wishes Edith and

her friend, Miss Hopkins, to join you at your hotel and spend

tomorrow night with you. He will arrive with the Persians in the

evening."
__________

To go back to that blissful day in His Presence, to that first

lunch hour.

Mr Miller had been invited to lunch and the Master placed him, with

me, at the head of the table, Himself sitting at the corner, I on

His right. Our table was half closed in by big white columns. Mr

Miller asked some questions, on work in and with the Christian

Church, on the validity of mystical experiences, and, at my

suggestion (with Percy Grant in my mind) on the economic problem.

The Master was specially vivid and vital that day, yet these words

seem so poor, so human. I can think of Him

only in terms foreign to earth: "The Dawning-Point of Light," "The

Dayspring" ...

From His radiant height of knowledge He gave us great answers, but

to put these into my own language would spoil, would desecrate

them. More than one phrase I repeated to Professor Miller out of

sheer delight in its perfection. He would nod in response with a

happy look.

In reply to the question about the church (most important to Mr

Miller as he is considering resigning his chair at Columbia to

enter the ministry) the Master said religion was one truth which

the sectarians had divided; however, the Light can be found

everywhere, and it was good to unite with the people, especially

in work for humanity and when one's own motive was pure. He dwelt

on the purity of the motive. All that tended to unite was good;

whatever resulted in division was harmful. I am sorry to repeat

only these broken fragments. His answers were so clear, so

brilliant, so simple that you wondered at your own question. But

the words themselves were elusive. Mortal lips could not frame such

phrases, nor mortal ears register them.

As to mystical experiences: most assuredly the saints and mystics

had real experiences. The proof of the experience was its fruit.

If the result was spiritual we might know the experience was from

God.

"Ask a question for me," I said to Professor Miller. "I know what

the Master will say, but I want the answer for Dr Grant. He doesn't

see the need for the Bahá'í Teaching. He thinks it a sort of

'Quietism'. He says that to bring about social progress we must

first work along practical lines."

Mr Miller put the question beautifully. "There are some who feel

this way," he ended, "and one man in

particular feels it so strongly that he is making it his lifework."

"Such people," replied the Master, "are doing the work of true

religion."

Then He went on to explain that a new order must come, but first

a solid foundation must be laid for it, and no foundation was solid

enough except religion, which was the Love of God. Such a basis as

the Love of God, He said, would inevitably result in the rearing

of a great Structure of social justice and individual love and

justice.

"These are just the answers," said Professor Miller, "that Dr Grant

would like."

The Master then told him of the Divine Plan for a House of Justice

and of the Mashriqu'l-Adhkar.

After lunch we sat in the reception room: a large white room, all

mirrors and glass doors (and rose-coloured furniture), looking out

on the lake, the terrace and the stone balustrade.

In the morning, in the Master's room, I had mentioned my

acquaintance with Professor Miller.

"I always wanted," I said, "to give him the Message."

"Now I have given him the Message," laughed the Master.

"Now I see why I did not!"

After lunch Mr Miller spoke of his friendship for me.

"Your love must increase from this day," said the Master. Whereupon

the professor, who is very shy, blushed as red as the chair he was

sitting on and looked really frightened. "You must become like

brother and sister," our Lord hastily added, with one more lovely

phrase on the future of our spiritual relationship. As Professor

Miller took his leave, he seemed to be deeply moved.

"I shall never forget this day," he said.

The Master put His arms around him, then gave him a good strong

slap on the back and bade him goodbye most lovingly.

When he had gone, the Master turned to me: "Now there is something

for you to do, Juliet! I put him under your charge. There is a

chance for you!"

All that day was heavenly. The Master was either in my room with

Laura and Hippolyte, or we were in His, in the most charming

informality. He gave us no spiritual teaching--in words--only

talked gaily or tenderly with us. I had no private interviews: in

fact, He took very little notice of me. But in spite of all this

I saw something vaster than I had ever seen before; I felt His

unearthly power, His divine sweetness even more than when I was

with Him in 'Akka. Once as He stood on the stairway talking with

Mirza Asadu'llah, the sweetness of His Love brought the tears to

my eyes. It is useless to try to express it. But I said to myself

as I looked on that celestial radiance: If He never gave me so much

as a word, if he never glanced my way, just to see that sweetness

shining before me, I would follow Him on my knees, crawling behind

Him in the dust forever!
__________

That night (24 August) at dinner, He turned to me smiling and said:

"Did you ever expect, Juliet, to be in Thonon with Me in such a

gathering?"

"No indeed I did not! May we all be in just such a gathering with

You in New York!"

"I have made a pact with the American friends. If they keep the

pact I will come."

"The believers are much better friends than they were."

"I shall have to know that! Bahá'u'lláh," the Master

continued, "was bound with a chain no longer than the distance from

here to that post." With a sudden terrific agitation He rose and

pointed to a column close to the table. "He could scarcely move.

Then He was exiled to Baghdad, to Adrianople, to Constantinople,

to 'Akka--four times! He bore all these hardships that unity might

be established among you. But if, among themselves, the believers

cannot unite, how can they hope to unite the world? Christ said to

His disciples: 'Ye are the salt of the earth, but if the salt has

lost its savour, wherewith shall it be salted?'"[74]

"It is not Juliet's fault," said Hippolyte.

"No, it is not Juliet's fault. If every one of the believers was

like Juliet there would have been no trouble," said the

Master--mercifully.

"If I had done my whole duty I might have accomplished more toward

unity."

"I hope you will become perfect. Insha'llah, through the help of

Bahá'u'lláh, you will be perfect. When you return to America,

Juliet, I want you to do your best to bring about unity."

"I will do my utmost to carry out every suggestion you make to me,

my Lord. I will work, not alone for the sake of the believers, but

for the sake of others who would follow You if they could see You."

"Had it not been for these divisions," said our Lord, "the Cause

would have made great progress by now in America."

__________

The next day, 25 August, was intensely interesting. Early in the

morning He called me into His room, with Tamaddunu'l-Mulk as

interpreter.
"Are you happy, Juliet?"

"So happy and so at rest. This is the happiness of the Kingdom."

He asked me about the election of the new Board in New York. I told

Him what I could and that I had brought a letter explaining.

"Is Mr Hoar on the Board? Mr MacNutt?"

"I don't know, my Lord. I sailed before the election."

Then I spoke of how Mr MacNutt had been forced out of

everything.[75] If he were not on this new Board, which had been

organized by his friends, it was, I felt sure, by his own choice.

He thinks of himself as a stumbling block to harmony and now keeps

out of the way.

"I proposed this change Myself,"[76] said the Master, "in order

that he might serve on the Board." Then He laughed, with that

wonderful gleam of humour in His face. "All these Boards and

committees: of what importance are they? The really important thing

is to spread the Cause of God. I am not on any committee.

Tamaddunu'l-Mulk and Mr Dreyfus," (for Hippolyte had just come in)

"are not on any committee!"
"Speak to Me, Juliet."

My heart was too full. I could not. After a moment I said: "May I

sit on the floor?"
"But you will be tired."
"Oh, no!"
I sat on the floor at His feet.

"This is like 'Akka," I said, looking up at that matchless Face.

Then, to surprise Him, in Persian: "Man

Shuma ra khayli, khayli dust daram." (I love You very, very much.)

Taking my hand and pressing it, smiling down at me, He said

something in Persian to Mulk.
"What is He saying?" I asked.

"He is praising you very much. He says that your heart is pure. He

Himself bears witness to this. He is your witness. He proves your

heart to be pure." (Mulk had already told me of all the slanderous

letters about me received by the Master.) "If He says this it makes

no difference what the people say."
The Master spoke again to Tamaddunu'l-Mulk.

"He says He sent for you out of pure affection. It was nothing but

affection. There was no other motive in His sending for you." Mulk

had told the Master how badly I felt about my broken engagement to

Mason Remey. "He had promised to send for you again and He thought

that while He was in Europe would be a good opportunity, that you

could come to Europe more easily than to 'Akka."

"Beg Him to so fill me up with His Love that I may express my

gratitude for this affection by true service in America."

"He says that you are already full of love for Him and when you

return to America you will serve Him; that your attraction in this

Cause and your devotion to it are in themselves service."

"I feel that I have failed in all I undertook to do when I last

left Him. I have had great lessons in my own weakness."

"The Master says your weakness will be turned into strength."

"You will be strong--strong," said the Master directly

to me in English, "and when you go back this time you will have a

greater power."

Letters were brought to Him and He talked of various things.

Tamaddunu'l-Mulk handed Him a booklet of Warwick Castle, where, at

the invitation of the Countess of Warwick, the members of the

Races' Congress had spent a day--we with them, of course. The

Master laughed, pushed the book away and gave Mulk a slap.

"What do I care about it?" He asked. "If a good believer lived in

it, that would be different! Once, when I lived in Baghdad," He

went on, "I was invited to the house of a poor thorn-picker. In

Baghdad the heat is greater even than in Syria; and it was a very

hot day. But I walked twelve miles to the thorn-picker's hut. Then

his wife made a little cake out of some meal for Me and burnt it

in cooking it, so that it was a black, hard lump. Still that was

the best reception I ever attended."

I had two more private talks with our Lord that morning. In the

second, something I said brought forth this answer: "The child does

not realize the parents' love, but when it becomes mature it

knows." He said this looking out of the window and His face was

very sad.

"Can the creature," I asked, "ever know the Love of the Creator?"

"Yes. If not in this world, then in the next, as a sleeper wakens."

It was during my third visit to Him that I spoke of the Holy

Household, spoke of each beloved one with tears in my eyes. His own

kindled with the warmest love as He answered: "They too love you,

Juliet, and always talk of you--especially Munavvar. It is always

'Juliet, Juliet.'"
"Oh, may I go and see them again?" I asked.
"Assuredly you will go and see them again."[77]
__________

At noon that day we had royalty to lunch! Bahram Mirza of Persia.

Prince Bahram's father is Zillu's-Sultan, who, as the eldest son

of Nasiri'd-Din Shah, would have succeeded to the throne but that

his mother was not of royal blood. It was though the orders of

Nasiri'd-Din Shah that The Báb was executed and thousands of Bábis

massacred, while through Zillu's-Sultan's orders those two great

Bahá'ís, "The King of the Martyrs" and "The Beloved of the

Martyrs", and at least a hundred others, met horrifying deaths. Now

the whole royal family is in exile, Zillu's-Sultan and his sons in

Geneva, while `Abdu'l-Bahá walks free in Thonon--so near!

The day before I arrived, Zillu's-Sultan came over to Thonon for

a few hours, and straight to the Hotel du Parc.

Hippolyte Dreyfus, when he was in Persia, had met this Prince, had

visited him in his tent while he--the prince--was on a hunting

trip. And now he met him again on the terrace of the hotel. The

Master too was on the terrace, pacing up and down at a little

distance. Hippolyte was standing in the doorway when he saw

Zillu's-Sultan coming up the steps. The prince approached and

greeted him, then turned a startled look toward the Master.

"Who is that Persian nobleman?" he asked.
"That," answered Hippolyte, "is `Abdu'l-Bahá."
And now Zillu's-Sultan spoke very humbly.
"Take me to Him," he begged.

Hippolyte told me all about it: "If you could have seen the brute,

Juliet, mumbling out his miserable excuses! But the Master took him

in His arms and said: 'All those things are in the past. Never

think of them again.' Then He invited Zillu's-Sultan two sons to

spend a day with Him."
And so it was that Prince Bahram came to lunch.

A beautiful boy--Prince Bahram--like a Persian miniature. His skin

is as smooth as ivory, his straight features finely chiselled, his

eyebrows meet in a thin, black line across His nose. But being so

young he is wholly unawakened spiritually, and he hasn't any

manners at all! After lunch, assuming the privileges of a royal

prince and Muslim, he stalked out of the room ahead of Laura and

me--when the Master, in spite of our protests, had insisted on our

preceding Him. However the Master said later: "Bahram Mirza bad

nist," (Prince Bahram is not bad) so I can afford to be tolerant!

After lunch, returning to the white- and rose-coloured room, the

Master placed me on His left and the prince on His right and we all

had coffee. The coffee was served first to the prince. To my great

surprise he rose and offered his cup to me. Too completely

disarmed, I immediately "bent over backward", figuratively

speaking.
"Won't you keep it?" I asked.

"No," he replied solemnly, "it has two lumps of sugar in it. I

don't like two lumps of sugar."
Neither did I!
__________

At three o'clock, after bidding prince Bahram goodbye, we did the

most amazing thing: the Master, Laura, Hippolyte, and I went for

an automobile ride!

"Did you ever think, Juliet," said the Master, laughing, as we got

into the car with Him, "that you and Laura would be riding in an

automobile with Me in Europe?"

We drove to a country inn where a little later, after a walk, we

were to have our tea. As the Master stepped down from the car,

about fifteen peasant children with bunches of violets to sell

closed in on Him, formed a half circle around Him, holding up the

little purple bunches, raising their eyes to His Face with grave

astonishment. They pressed so close that they hid Him below the

waist, and the benediction in the look He bent on them I shall

never forget. Of course He bought all the violets, drawing from His

pocket handfuls of francs. But when He had given to each child

bountifully, they held out their hands for more!
"Don't let them impose!" cried Laura.

"Tell them," said the Master very gently, "that they have taken."

He turned and walked into the forest, followed by Laura, Hippolyte,

and me. Hippolyte had told Him of "the Devil's Bridge" deeper down

in the forest, a place celebrated for its beauty, and the Master

wanted to see it. His excitement over beauty is wonderful to watch

and perfectly heartrending when you think of His long, long life

in prison. He--our Lord--led us to the Devil's Bridge! I can see

Him now, just ahead of us, the white robe, the black 'aba, the

white turban, the beautiful sway of His walk among the trees.

"What is it," I said to Laura, "that makes that stride of the

Master's so unique? Its absolute freedom?"

Laura found she couldn't walk as far as the Devil's Bridge, so I

waited in the woods with her, both of us

seated on a rock, while Hippolyte followed our Lord.[78] When they

returned, the Master sat down on another rock and beckoned me to

His side. So close to Him, the fragrance of His Divinity enveloped

me and I realized at least something of the moment's sacredness.

Just in this way the disciples of nearly two thousand years ago

must have sat with their Lord to rest. The sunlight through the

trees made their leaves translucent, but even against that green

glassiness, the Master's clear profile shone, like a lighted

alabaster lamp.

We walked back to the inn through the woods, He leading us. As soon

as He reappeared on the lawn of the inn the children again swarmed

around Him, their hands still outstretched. Laura sternly ordered

them off, for they were certainly imposing. "He would give away

everything He has," she whispered to me. But the Master had

discovered a tiny newcomer, a child much younger than the others,

with a very sensitive face, who was looking wonderingly at Him.

"But," He said, "to this little one I have not given."

We went into the inn (after the Master had given to the "little

one") and had tea on the porch, sitting at a rough pine table on

a rough bench--two mountains, with evergreens climbing them,

towering above us. The inn was in the cleft between. At another

table sat a man who could not keep his eyes off the Master and at

last ventured to speak to Him, opening the conversation by saying

that he had lived in Persia. Our Lord called him over to sit with

us--which he almost leaped to do--then invited him to come to

Thonon.

Again, when we left the inn, the children swarmed around the Master

and again Laura tried to save Him from their greediness.

"But here," said our Lord, "is a boy to whom I have not given."

"You gave to them all," said Laura.

"Call Hippolyte," ordered the Master. "I did not give to this boy,

did I, Hippolyte?"
"I believe you did not."
Then the Master gave.

In the years to come they will tell stories along the Lake of

Geneva of the visit of `Abdu'l-Bahá to Thonon. Then those little

children, perhaps old men and women by that time, remembering a

Face like a great dream at the dawn of their lives, may ask one

another: "Was it He?"
__________

Driving home, we came to the most spectacular waterfall, foaming

down a black precipice. The Master peremptorily stopped the car and

with a sort of excitement got out of it; then walked to the very

edge of the precipice. After standing there for some time, His eyes

fixed on that long, shining torrent, which seemed to be shaking off

diamonds in a fury, He seated Himself on a rock hanging over the

deep abyss. I can still see that Figure of quiet Power perilously

poised above the precipice, that still, rapt Face delighting in

some secret way in the beauty of the waterfall. Tears came to

Laura's eyes and mine.[79]

During the whole drive He was always discovering lovely things and

with vivid animation pointing them out to us: the bright green of

the fields and hills, the neat villages, a spire rising from a

cluster of Swiss houses, or from some lonely spot on a mountain.

A tiny village, high among the peaks, caught His eye.

"How can the people there stand the winter? It must," He said with

the tenderest sympathy, "be too severely cold for them."

It was just after we left the waterfall that the Master turned,

smiling, to me. "If I come to America, Juliet, will you invite Me

to see such waterfalls?"

"I will invite You to Niagara if You will come to America! But

surely, my Lord, Your coming doesn't depend on my invitation."

"My invitation to America will be the unity of the believers."

"Louise Stapfer asked me to give You her love and beg You to come

and unite us. Otherwise, she said, we will never be united."

"No, you must do that yourselves. See in what perfect harmony we

are now! You are not complaining of one another. But if I should

go to America they would all be complaining of one another and ..."

(He laughed and made a lively gesture with His hands) "I would fly

away!"

Once, breaking a silence, He said: "There was no one in the world

who loved trees and water and the country so much as Bahá'u'lláh."

So sad was His voice that it was like a sigh and I seemed to feel

what He was thinking. He was free at last to travel about the world

and see all the beauties of

nature, which He too loved, while the Blessed Beauty had lived for

long years walled up in that treeless city, 'Akka, and died still

a prisoner.

A little later I spoke: "If only, like the disciples of Christ, we

could follow You everywhere, all through our lives."

The Master beamed brightly on me. "We are together now. Be happy

in the present," He said.

I mentioned my dream about the crypt and asked if I might tell it

to Him, but it sounded so awfully queer as I told it that Laura,

Hippolyte, and I began to laugh; and the Master's own face twitched

a little, I thought. However He said: "You must not laugh at this

dream," and asked me to go on telling it.

But just as I came to the end, our car drew up at the gate of a

ruined castle and we all got out and walked over to look at it.

After this I was sure I would hear no more of my dream, but as soon

as we were settled in the car again the Master reopened the

subject.

"You must write down that dream, Juliet," He said.

"I have written it, my Lord."
"Ah, Khayli khub!" (Very good!)

Then He said something to Hippolyte, laughing, and with those vivid

gestures of His, continued to talk for some time. What He said I

couldn't catch--I know such a tiny bit of Persian--but Hippolyte

told me afterward, rather reluctantly! that the Master was speaking

about dreams. He had laughed at Hippolyte because he did not

believe in them and had explained that there were three kinds of

dreams: dreams that come from some bodily disorder, symbolic

dreams, and those in which future events are clearly foretold. When

the soul is in a state of

perfect purity it is able, He said, to receive a direct revelation

from God. Otherwise, it sees in symbols.

Then He told us the story of a man, a Christian, who had visited

Him in 'Akka and expressed his disbelief in dreams.

"But," said the Master, "your own Sacred Writings mention such

things."

Still the man remained sceptical. A few months later, however, he

reappeared in 'Akka, sought the presence of the Master, and

immediately fell at His feet and attempted to kiss His hand, which

the Master will never allow.

"In the Name of Bahá'u'lláh, let me kiss Your hand," pleaded the

Christian. He then went on to confess that now he did believe in

dreams. He had learned, he said, through a sorrowful experience

that the Master had spoken the truth to him.

One night when he was away from home he had had an alarming dream

of his little daughter. She had come to him, sat on his knee and

complained that her head ached. Rapidly she grew worse. They sent

for the doctor. The father knew in his dream that she was

hopelessly ill and felt the most acute anguish. Then he saw her

die.

The following night he returned to his home and his daughter came

and sat on his knee. "Father," she said, "my head aches." Then

followed her illness, her death.

"As the mind has the power when awake to think constructively or

to dissipate its powers uselessly, so, when the body is asleep, it

can either construct or dream meaningless dreams."

"When the body is asleep," I asked, remembering a theory, "can the

mind construct at will?"
"No, no," said the Master.

As we drove toward Thonon, the sunset flooded the sky with glory.

Behind the immortal head of the Master rose amethyst mountains,

their summits hidden in rolling fiery clouds. But that Godlike head

surpassed both clouds and mountains in grandeur.

Entering the town we passed a stone wall with an enormous sign

painted on it--an advertisement for chocolate--the letters so big

that the sign was a block long.

With one of His swift changes, the Master, rippling with amusement,

pointed to the advertisement.
"What is that?" He asked.
When Hippolyte explained. He burst out laughing.
"Is chocolate so important in Thonon?"
__________

While I sat at His feet that evening He sang a song to me, looking

down at me with eyes of glory. "Beloved Juliet! My heart! My soul!

My Spirit! My heaven! Your heart for Me, your breast for Me! Always

for Me, always for Me! Your eyes for me, your mind for Me, Always

for Me! Your soul for Me, your spirit for Me, Always for Me, always

for Me! Your blood for Me, your blood for Me, Your blood for Me!"

__________

What does He mean by my blood for Him? Am I to die for Him? I hope

so!

The Master had made a lovely plan for the next day: we were all to

go to Vevey with Him to visit Mrs Sander-

son and Edith,[80] but--we missed the boat! Although we were

terribly disappointed, this was as nothing compared to the

nightmare that followed. Annie Boylan[81] arrived from Lausanne

about ten o'clock, completely surprising us, as we had no idea that

she was in Europe.

She came into the Dreyfuses' room--where Hippolyte, Laura, and I

were sitting--in a state of suppressed fury and almost immediately

boiled over with the most revolting slander against Mr MacNutt.

This, she said, she intended to lay before the Master to prove that

Mr MacNutt was unfit to serve the Cause. She had made the trip to

Thonon especially for this purpose!

But the Master did not appear, and I thought of His words the day

before: "If I should go to America they would all be complaining

of one another and I would fly away." He had flown!

Hours passed and still no word from the Master, till lunchtime.

Then Mulk brought a message from Him asking us to excuse Him, He

was not well enough to lunch with us but would see us later.

It was not until five o'clock that He came to the Dreyfuses' door.

He looked very tired and worn. After greeting Annie Boylan

lovingly, He took a seat by the window and told her He had a

message for the believers in New York which He wished her to convey

to them. I wrote His words down as He spoke them.

"In this Cause," He said, "hundreds of families have sacrificed

themselves. There have been more than twenty thousand martyrs. The

breast of His Highness The Báb

was riddled by dozens of bullets; Bahá'u'lláh suffered years and

years in prison; and We have had all these difficulties and borne

all these trials that the canopy of Oneness might be uplifted in

the world of humanity, that Love and Unity might be established

amongst mankind, until all countries become as one country, all

religions be merged into one religion, all the continents be

connected and between all hearts a perfect understanding and love

may appear.

"The people of Bahá must be the cause of uniting all the nations.

They must dispel inharmony and dispute. So now we must consider

deeply how the Bahá'ís must really be, what characteristics they

must have and what actions they must perform.

"And if there is not this love and harmony among Bahá'ís how can

they cause it to appear among the inhabitants of the earth? How can

an ill man nurse others? How could a pauper give wealth to others?

So the first thing the Bahá'ís must do is to feel love and unity

in their hearts before they can spread it among others.

"Is it possible to conceive that all the troubles, all the trials

of Bahá'u'lláh and the martyrs have been without result? Surely you

will not have it so! If you would all act entirely in accordance

with the Teachings of Bahá'u'lláh no discord would ever appear.

Then all disagreements will vanish, and be certain that the

pavilion of Unity will be hoisted in the world of man.

"Each nation, each people that has understood and felt the Love of

God has progressed and developed, but where discord has sprung up

in the midst of a nation, that nation has been dispersed.

"I know you would not have all these trials and dif-

ficulties produce nothing. Therefore I am waiting and expecting to

hear that love and harmony have blossomed in the hearts of all the

Bahá'ís in America.

"Now the Bahá'ís must be occupied in spreading the Cause of God and

furthering the instructions of Bahá'u'lláh, and not spend their

time in disputing with one another. If they do the first, all will

be happy; they will be assisted by the Breath of the Holy Spirit

and become the beloved of His Heart."

While the Master was speaking Annie Boylan continued to bristle,

jarring the whole room as she seethed with her bottled-up "proof",

which now of course she dare not "lay before the Master". She

couldn't even mention Mr MacNutt! I saw her as an embodiment of the

discord in New York, and those terrific vibrations, blasting into

the Master's happy holiday (the first one in all His life), nearly

killed me. I listened really in torture.
Suddenly the Master turned to me.
"What is the matter, Juliet? Are you not happy?"
I answered in Persian that I was unhappy.

"You must be happy," He said, "that you are going back to New York

to serve Me."

When Annie Boylan had gone, the Master came into my room.

Tamaddunu'l-Mulk was with me and we placed a chair for Him by the

window, from which He could see the dark sweep of the mountains.

I said it had torn me to pieces to hear the jangle of discord in

His Presence.

"I know," He answered, "and that was the reason I told you to be

happy, for you were returning to serve Me. I meant that you were

returning to work for unity."

"Oh my Lord," I said, "wasn't it Abraham who prayed to the Lord to

save Sodom and Gomorrah for the

sake of five righteous men?[82] Now," I laughed, "I am going to be

like Abraham and beg You to come to America for the sake of just

a few, for some will never understand."

The Master, too, laughed--such humour in His eyes.

"If it were not so long a trip: if it were a little trip, like

Paris, or London, or Vienna, I would come for your sake," he said

tenderly. "But when I come it must be for a long visit. I am going

to Chicago, to Washington, and even to California, and I have not

the time this year. But I will come--Inshallah!--when the moment

arrives."

He spoke of Mr MacNutt. "The reason I suggested this new election,"

He said, "was that Mr MacNutt might serve on the Board again. But

do not tell anybody this; it would only stir up a quarrel. However,

go directly to Mr MacNutt and tell him I said this. He is not on

this Board, but next year something must be done so that he may be

elected. I have," He concluded, " a very great affection for Mr

MacNutt."
__________

Hippolyte told me that night that if the Master felt well enough

we would go to Vevey on Sunday and that after he had waked the

Master he would wake me at seven o'clock. But it was the Master who

woke us all! At six came a rap at my door and I heard His dear

voice.

"I want to go!" He said in English. Then I heard Him down the hall

calling "Mademoiselle!" at the door of Tamaddunu'l-Mulk: little

"Civilization of the Country", who has taken to corsets lately to

improve his figure.
Oh, that day; that day!

We drove to the boat all together--nine of us--in a big

station wagon, the Master placing me opposite Him. At the landing

is a dense grove of trees--I think I have already mentioned

it--with polished-looking leaves and very dark shade under them;

in the shade a bank of white lilies and close to the lilies a

bench. The Master asked Laura and me to sit on the bench with Him.

Soon, however, He rose and went off alone and for a while we lost

sight of Him. When we saw Him again He was walking on the bench,

behind fishnets hung out to dry.

Laura touched my hand. "See where He is, Juliet," she said.

"Yes: on the shore of a lake--behind fishnets. Oh, Laura!"

He walked slowly on, looking almost transparent in the

early-morning sunlight, till He came to the edge of the grove.

There He turned inland and walked among the trees. Through their

leaves, the sun flecked His bronze 'aba with fiery spots dazzled

on His turban and His long silver hair and drew a crystal line,

like a halo, down His profile to His feet. A child, light as a

fairy, glistening in her white dress, danced up a path to His left.

Our Lord stopped for a moment to watch her. Then, mysteriously, He

vanished! We saw the boat coming closer, closer, and looked around

wildly for the Master. Where and how had He disappeared so quickly?

On the landing we found Him waiting for us, and followed Him to the

gangplank. All the people on the landing stared at Him as He moved

quietly forward with that strange power and that holy sweetness.

Children raised their eyes to His face. He put out a tender hand

and caressed their heads.

We gathered around Him on the boat, Laura, the Persians, and I, and

for a while He sat silent and grave in our midst. Then suddenly He

turned and smiled at me.

"You never dreamed, Juliet," He said, "that you would be with Me

in a boat."

"I have often dreamed that I was with You in a boat!"

"But you never thought it would be fulfilled in this way!"

"No," I smiled. "I never did. I couldn't have imagined this!"

To be with Him in a boat on this lake so like the Sea of Galilee!

He sat with His bronze 'aba around Him, His hands hidden in its

full sleeves, so that the sleeves with their straight, massive

folds looked like great wings. The mist-veiled Alps were His

background and His Majesty so dominated them that they appeared as

no more than a filmy drop-curtain. The mist thickened, almost

blotting out the mountains, blending them into the lake, and I felt

that we had left earth with Him and our boat was sailing through

ether. Just as I was thinking this, He said: "Others are passing

from an immortal to a mortal kingdom, but the Bahá'ís are

journeying, in the Ark of the Covenant, from a mortal to an

immortal world. The Jews once turned to the Kingdom, but when they

looked backward to mortal things, they became dispersed. Then

Christ led men to the Kingdom; their signs have remained. God be

praised that now you are on a Ship bearing you to immortal worlds.

Day by day your signs will become clearer."

Later the Persians brought Him tea and when He had finished I

begged to "drink from His cup". Mirza Rafi', adding some water to

the kettle, poured out a cup for me.

The Master turned and smiled at me; then He laughed. "The tea for

Me, the water for Juliet!" He said.

I am sure the future will adore Him also for His humour. The joy

of His spirit overflows in the most

delicious humour and gives Him a look of unconquerable youth.

"O Son of Delight!" I have just seen this phrase in the Hidden

Words. The Master is all delight. Bay of Naples
3 September 1911

On 3 September 1909 after leaving the Holy Presence in Haifa, I

sailed from Naples. Here I am again on 3 September 1911. These

strangely repetitious dates! Tonight, as I saw that great pile of

beauty, Naples, rising, jewelled with lights, against the clear

rose of the afterglow--as I heard the voices of singers in the

distance--how vivid were my memories of 'Akka, Haifa; of the Master

there! It is midnight now and I am too tired to write, but tomorrow

I will tell they story of our day in Vevey.
4 September 1911

We arrived at Vevey. Edith was waiting on the landing and we drove

with her to the hotel. There, we went straight to the room reserved

by her for the Master. To my joy He called me to sit beside Him.

Mrs Sanderson (Edith's mother) has never been attracted to the

Cause. She has felt like my own dear mother about it, not caring

at all for most of the believers! But she could not take her eyes

from the Master's face. "His beautiful face!" she whispered to me.

Two of Edith's friends came in, Miss Hopkins and Miss Norton.

Miss Hopkins is a Catholic, Miss Norton an agnostic. Miss Norton,

when she saw the Master, seemed to be

strangely overcome. Her face trembled, her eyes widened, as though

she were looking at a spirit. I thought that at any moment she

would burst our crying.

She and Mrs Sanderson brought up the question of immortality (which

Mrs Sanderson feels it is cowardly to believe in) and I wrote down

the Master's answer as Mulk translated it. Here it is, though I

hate to give it in Mulk's poor English. Edith understands Persian.

"You cannot imagine," she said to me, "how ruinous the translation

is. The Master puts life into every word. Translated, the words

sound flat. Besides, the Persian is so rich and He has a way of

saying the same thing over differently, in various poetic forms and

with subtle shades of meaning. In the translation it is all alike."

____________________

"Christ and all the Prophets have taught in their Holy Books the

immortality of the soul.

"Jesus during His life had so many afflictions and no happiness or

comfort and in the end He was crucified. If there were no

immortality to follow, then nothing could be more useless than such

a life.

"Take, for example, the life of Hannibal. In the world we would

find none happier than he, for his life was one of pleasure and

conquest and he triumphed wherever he desired. But Jesus had many

afflictions. Were there no immortality we might say that Jesus was

not even rational. But at the hour of His crucifixion, He knew He

was leaving the mortal for the immortal life; He knew He was

leaving the physical to ascend to the spiritual world. When they

put on His head the crown of thorns, He thought of the crown of the

Kingdom. While He was hanging on the cross He thought of the

eternal throne.

"But now we come to the proofs. Those who do not believe in

immortality have some proofs. For example,

one is this. They divide existence into two kinds; imaginary

existence and that of the senses. They say that since the immortal

kingdom is not of the senses there can be no such kingdom. This is

their proof! By this proof they deny!

"But Jesus and Bahá'u'lláh answer the people who do not believe

thus: Every rational man can see that the world has come out of

non-existence into existence. Life progresses from the mineral

kingdom to the vegetable kingdom, from the vegetable to the animal,

and from thence to the human kingdom. Were there no spiritual

kingdom, life would be useless.

"For example: We plant a tree, we water and care for it. From

branches we see it advance to leaf and from leaf to fruit. Should

the fruit be opened and found to contain nothing, all would be

useless. So the people of common sense, studying the universe, see

that creation must have a result.

"The people of the world say: 'Where is the immortal world? When

we look about us we do not see it. We only see the world of

elements.' Therefore the Prophet says: 'Those in the station below

cannot see the station above.' We are in this room, we cannot see

beyond the ceiling. We are downstairs, we cannot see upstairs.

"For example: The mineral kingdom has no knowledge of the vegetable

kingdom. The vegetable kingdom knows nothing of the animal kingdom.

Nor is it possible that it should know of the animal, because

it--the vegetable--is of a lower grade; the animal is in the higher

condition. If the vegetable kingdom deny the existence of the

animal kingdom, does this disprove the animal kingdom's existence?

No, the animal kingdom exists, but the vegetable kingdom cannot

imagine the reality of it. The reason the vegetable kingdom cannot

imagine the

animal kingdom is because it cannot comprehend it. But this does

not disprove its existence.

"Now we come to the human kingdom. In the human kingdom is an

intellectual power not possessed by the animal kingdom. The animal

cannot imagine this power. A Spaniard discovered America. The

animal could not understand this. The intellectual power is not

disproved because it is not understood.

"As to the spiritual kingdom: An unborn child cannot understand

this world. It cannot imagine a world beyond the womb. If we could

tell an unborn child that there is another world, with mountains,

villages, cities--so many beautiful things--could he understand?

Never! Therefore Christ said one must be born a second time. As a

child, by coming to this world, understands the conditions here,

so we should go to the spiritual world to understand its

conditions. The Prophets were born in the spiritual condition to

understand the immortal world.

"For example: The unborn child would deny the existence of this

world for the reason that he knows nothing of it and the best

condition to him is the world of the womb, the best food his

nourishment there. He could not visualize this world. But when he

is born and arrives at understanding, he sees what a beautiful

world this is.

"So with the spiritual kingdom. The people of this world cannot

comprehend the conditions of that immortal world, but, when they

reach it, they see that this, in comparison, is just like the world

of the womb. The unborn child says: 'This is the best world. I am

quite satisfied with it. I must not leave it.'"
__________

The Master turned suddenly to me. "Do you understand all this,

Juliet? I want you to know these things very well when you return

to America."

I had been saying to myself: Oh, Mrs Sanderson, look at the Master

and see Immortality!

The next question--Mrs Sanderson's--was about divorce, if

Bahá'u'lláh approved of it.

"Bahá'u'lláh,"--the Master smiled--"says that in this world there

is nothing more absurd than divorce. If one has accepted another

and is a good Bahá'í he never likes to believe in divorce. But if

there be a case of difference between husband and wife, where it

is entirely impossible to recreate their love, where it is not

possible for them to live any longer with one another, then both

should go to the House of Justice and together, in perfect

agreement, lay their case before it. And after this they should

still wait a year, living apart but not permanently divorced, and

their friends should give them good advice meanwhile. If, after one

year, there is no possibility of becoming reunited, and no one is

able to influence them, then this is the natural divorce.

"But between the real Bahá'ís there is no divorce. No one has ever

heard of divorce between real Bahá'ís. The Bahá'í husband and wife

will not allow affairs to reach such a condition."

Luncheon was announced and Miss Hopkins and Miss Norton rose to go.

As Miss Hopkins bade the Master goodbye He said: "I will pray for

you."
"And I will pray for you too," she answered.

This gave me a shock. At the table Mrs Sanderson spoke of it,

saying that her own feelings had been "outraged" by it.

"No," replied the Master, "do not feel that way. It came from the

heart; therefore it was beautiful."
I shall never forget the way He said "beautiful".

The Master had asked me to sit by Him at lunch. He was on the right

of Mrs Sanderson, who sat at the head

of the table. He talked with the gentlest love to her. Soon she

brought up the name of Lua and then asked me: "Have you heard from

Lua lately, Juliet?
"I love Lua," she added.
"My mother loves Lua too."

"Your mother," the Master turned to me, in His voice that ineffable

tenderness with which He always mentions Mamma.
"I wish my mother were here with Edith's mother."
"I shall see your mother."

I tried to speak a little Persian to Him and He helped me to

construct the phrases. He had told me a day or two before that I

must be sure to study Persian. "You see," He had said, "I can talk

with Laura."
__________

Lunch over, the Master went to His room to rest, after stopping in

the hall for a moment to meet an old French lady, Madame Naber.

Everyone scattered then and, finding myself alone, I slipped

through a side door into the garden; and there on a stone bench sat

Madame Naber and Mrs Sanderson, their white heads close together.

They didn't see me at first.

"Il a l'air si bon, si simple," Madame Naber was saying.

"Oui, et les yeux de feu!" said Mrs Sanderson.[83]

Then they looked up and smiled at me and Mrs Sanderson said:

"Wouldn't you like to see the view from the terrace, Juliet?"

I took the hint and walked over to the terrace, from which you can

get the most marvellous view of the lake and the mountains on the

further side.

Imagine my astonishment to find, sitting in the shade of a tree,

Mrs Griscomb and Professor Mitchell of the Church of the Ascension!

Mr Griscomb and the Professor have been for some time vestrymen of

the Church and have always actively opposed The Peoples' Forum,

which is Percy Grant's chief interest. "My capitalists" Percy calls

them. They are also Theosophists and have a very select group of

their own, never mingling with the big ordinary group! But I was

glad to see them just because they were from the church, and flew

over to speak to Mrs Griscomb. She is a plump, pretty little woman

with at least two professors and a husband at her feet. Professor

Mitchell is sort of willowy and has a walrus moustache and, on his

thin aloof nose, pince-nez with a wide black string.

"Why!" exclaimed Mrs Griscomb when she caught sight of me. "What

are you doing here?"

"I have come from Thonon with `Abdu'l-Bahá to lunch with the

Sandersons. Do you know Mrs Sanderson, Mrs Griscomb? Won't you let

me introduce you?"
"I should prefer to talk with you."

A little surprised, afraid I had made some blunder, though I

couldn't imagine what, I hastily explained. "I asked on the impulse

of the moment because it would be such a joy to present you to

`Abdu'l-Bahá."

"Thanks, I'm not at all crazy to meet `Abdu'l-Bahá."

The silly, insulting little answer went straight through my heart

like a knife.

"I'm glad, however," she added, "if He gives you pleasure."

"Mrs Griscomb," I said, `Abdu'l-Bahá is creating unity all through

the world among all races and religions, which is a far more

important thing than giving anyone personal happiness."

"I am one of those who do not decry personal happiness; and really

I don't want to meet `Abdu'l-Bahá."

"You will see Him," I said as I moved away, "and then you may

regret refusing."

By that time the Master was up and receiving the friends in His

room. I rushed to the refuge of His Holy Presence. I was tingling

all over, actually suffering physically from the blow of Mrs

Griscomb's flippant blasphemy. As I entered the Master's room He

sent me a searching glance but said nothing. And of course I said

nothing, till I had a chance to talk to Edith.
__________

A little later in the afternoon, Edith, her mother, Laura, and I

sat on the terrace with the Master. Mrs Griscomb and the Professor

were no longer there, but, Edith said, they were watching from

their windows, Professor Hargrove standing beside them. Professor

Hargrove, whom Percy calls "his mystic", is staying with the

Griscombs in Vevey. They have a garden apartment in the hotel where

they even eat their meals, associating with no one. It is

understood they are very busy studying occultism and must not be

interrupted in their search for Truth!

The whole thing is extraordinary. It was through Professor Mitchell

that Dickinson Miller was brought to Percy Grant's church. Now both

professors come to Switzerland and are drawn to the neighbourhood,

even to the Presence, of "the Dawning-Point of Divine Knowledge."

How different the reactions of the two! In Professor Miller, at

least a timid response, a peeping out of the soul. In Professor

Mitchell: a back turned superciliously!

Professor Mitchell, Professor Miller, and Percy Grant belonged

about four years ago to a sort of club, where,

with other professors of Columbia University they met to discuss

religion. Professor Mitchell, whose memory is very accurate, wrote

reports of those meetings and published them in book form. The book

is extremely interesting. All through it the note is sounded that

a great new Light is shining upon the world.

It ends something like this: "The Mathematician, left alone after

the departure of his guests, goes to the window. In his ears ring

the words of the Clergyman: 'The rebirth of the Christ in the whole

of humanity is close at hand.' The Mathematician looks up at the

stars and the vision of John on Patmos occurs to him. 'Even so,'

he whispers, 'come quickly, Lord Jesus.'"

"The Mathematician" is Professor Mitchell and "the Clergyman",

Percy Grant. And if this is not tragic, then I don't know what is!

__________

Edith drove down to the landing with us to meet the boat, which was

to take us back to Thonon. But, as we were early, the Master

proposed our waiting in a nearby garden. There, on a bench under

a tree, Laura, Edith, and I sat beside Him, while the Persians

stood around us. One of them mentioned Barakatu'llah, whereupon the

Master turned to me with such a funny look of accusation! His

eyebrows went up and His eyes laughed. In my confusion I dropped

my gloves and He stooped to pick them up, which completely

humiliated me.
"Oh my Lord, don't!" I gasped.

At last the boat came. The Master stayed on deck for a short time,

during which I kept very quiet, not wishing to speak; wishing only

to fix in my mind that Godlike head with the Alps for its

background. Then he went off to rest.

After He had gone, a man who was sitting close to us

spoke to Mirza Rafi'. "May I ask who that gentleman is?" he said.

"I am very much attracted to His face."

"`Abdu'l-Bahá a Persian exile," answered Mirza Rafi'--too

reticently, it seemed to me.

"I thought He might be the sultan's brother, who, I hear is living

in Geneva."

He evidently meant Zillu's-Sultan! As he continued to ask

questions, Laura gave the Message very ably. Beside the man sat a

boy of about sixteen, with fair, curly hair and the face of a

Botticelli angel. He leaned forward and listened eagerly.

Later the Master came out from His cabin, but the man and the boy

had left the boat at Eviens.

The Master called me to sit by Him, Mulk sitting on the other side.

"Are you tired?" I asked.

"No, I am never tired. I am very comfortable." He spoke in His

sweet English.

Touching the beautiful bronze-coloured 'aba, I said: "The coat You

wore when I was in Haifa, which You afterward gave to Edna, was

like this in colour, and we shared it, Edna and I. She would be so

sweet as to lend it to me; then I would return it to her; then she

would lend it to me again. It was such a comfort to me, that coat.

At night, or in the early morning, I would bury my face in its hem

and pray. Then I would seem to be kneeling again at Your feet, my

Lord."

He smiled very tenderly while I was telling Him this.

"Edna has become very dear to me. And she loves You very much."

"Ah, Khayli khub."

"I want to speak of a friend of Edna's and mine--a very dear

friend--a girl who is very, very close to me,

whom I love with all my heart: M. M.[84] It is difficult for her

to serve the Cause on account of her husband."

"She must serve in the Cause. Her husband must not prevent her.

Neither the husband nor the wife should hinder the other's work in

the Kingdom. She must not pay any attention to that but must serve

firmly. Thus she will make great progress. She must try to give her

husband the Message."

"She loves You very much. Her life has been one of great trial and

sorrow."

"Bravo! Bravo!" said the Master. "It makes no difference that she

has sorrows. These have been the cause of her development. Through

sorrow the soul always advances. The greater the difficulty, the

greater the progress of the soul. Now she must begin to serve

firmly in the Cause. So, she will make great progress."

Soon, all too soon, we reached the shore.

As the crowd on the boat stood still while the gangplank was

lowered, two children in front of the Master turned and lifted

their eyes to His face, and their eyes seemed to say: Is this God?

They were very little children; they came just about to His knees.

With a strong, lingering touch, as though He were leaving something

with them, He pressed and fondled their heads. Then the crowd

surged forward; the children and the Father were separated ... for

this life?

After our return, in the early evening, Laura and I were sitting

in the Master's room. He began to speak in Persian, laughing, and

I caught the words "Mrs Sanderson." Then He turned to me and, still

laughing, repeated in English: "Mrs Sanderson thinks this world

is good enough. Very nice, this life!" And He laughed again.

Later, while Mulk was writing in my room, the Master came in and

called us into His. "Now, have you anything secret to say to me?"

He asked.
"I have a message for You from Dr Grant."
"Ah!" He smiled. "Tell me."

"I told him it wasn't a good enough message and that I would not

give it to You."
"Give it just the same."

"He sent You his greetings and said he hoped You would come to New

York. That if You came, he would welcome You gladly. That he felt

the work You were doing in the world was very beautiful and

potent."

"Convey My greetings to him. Say: 'I am entirely thinking of you

for the sake of Juliet who has mentioned you to me. Say that at a

later date I will come to New York.' Is there anything else you

wish to say, Juliet?"
"There is not a desire in my heart, my Lord."

"This is as it should be. The daughters of the Kingdom should not

have a desire."

"I should, like, however, to tell You a little of what has

happened."
"Speak," said the Master.

"When I became engaged to Mason Remey," (The Master looked archly

at me; I smiled, but penitently.

"Dr Grant was very unhappy and disturbed, so one day I sent for

him. I told him I was marrying Mason because I wished to be freer

to serve the Cause."

"That was a very wise answer. You did well," said the Master.

"But I gave him another reason. I said that the Cause

had spread in the East through sacrifice and I felt if this same

spirit could be demonstrated in the West, this spirit of

renunciation which was all-powerful, that the Cause might begin to

spread there."
"I know!" said the Master, His eyes full of love.

Hiding my face on His coat sleeve, I said, half laughing--laughing,

of course, at myself: "I was not strong enough--was I?--to drink

the cup of martyrdom. I was a failure as a martyr."

How the Master laughed!

"I know better now than to ask--for that cup myself. I shall wait

now for God to give it to me. I shall wait till he finds me ready

to drink it."

"Insha'llah. Perhaps in another way God will give you that cup to

drink, and the capacity for it."

"I hope so." After a pause I continued. "The following Sunday he

preached on 'Renunciation'. This was his text. He said he had just

had a new vision of the power of renunciation. He said that 'when

a soul did the great thing first it inspired others to follow in

the path of sacrifice.' And from that time on his life did change.

He flung caution to the winds and with the utmost courage, in the

face of the strongest opposition from within his church, championed

the cause of the poor, of labour against capital; not in a way to

encourage class hatred, but to promote mutual understanding. In the

pulpit he says such things as these: 'A great new Light is breaking

upon earth. The earth is being enriched and prepared for the birth

of a new humanity. And in the face of this light of Democracy, of

universal sympathy, of the ever-fuller disclosure through science

of the Will of God through the Laws of God, what are you to do with

your miserable little creeds? While humanity marches rapidly

forward

to the Great Brotherhood, we find the Church lagging behind

sociologically, allying itself through fear with the aristocratic

classes. While science is marching on, the Church lags behind

intellectually. And what are the certain consequences of this?

Death for the Church. Something new, something living is coming.

We feel it in the air.'

"One Sunday, my Lord, he even went so far as to mention Thy Name.

'The Bishop,' he said, 'has asked me to preach today on Church

unity, but I wish to consider this subject from the point of view

of the disintegration of the Church. The Church, which, had it

fulfilled the hope of Jesus, would have set the example of

brotherhood to the world, has split into fragments, while outside

it we see great Movements for the Brotherhood of Man, such as the

Bahá'í Movement, centred around the Master in 'Akka. With this,

though we may not agree with all it teaches, we must feel sympathy,

since it is not trying to unite the souls on the basis of

disputable facts, but on the basis of universal sympathy. For

supposing the Church did unite, what then would we do with our

brothers the Jews, our brothers the Muslims, our brothers the

Hindus, and our brothers the atheists? Are these to be considered

as outside our body? No! The day has come for the falling of all

barriers: social, national, religious."'

"Good; very good," said the Master, who had been listening with

keen attention. Then He closed His eyes, as He always does when He

sends a message.

"Convey my greetings to him. Say: Miss Juliet has told me all about

your preaching. What you have said lately is very good. It is

exactly so.

"In the time of Jesus the Pharisees lit a lamp in opposition to the

Light of Jesus. Only darkness resulted. But

the Lamp of the Teachings of Jesus afterward became a great flame.

Then it became as a sun and brightened the whole world.

"Such teachings as the people of today have in their hands cannot

stand against the Teachings of Bahá'u'lláh. Soon the East and the

West will be ablaze with these lights.

"In the lifetime of Jesus eleven disciples became illumined. See

what happened afterward! The whole world became illumined. But in

the lifetime of Bahá'u'lláh half a million souls became illumined.

From this you can see what will be the result in the future.

"The Teachings of Bahá'u'lláh no one can deny. If one comes to know

the reality of the Teachings of Bahá'u'lláh it is impossible to

deny.

"Up to the present time you have been building an edifice on a weak

ground. Now I hope your foundation will be a strong rock, that it

may become an eternal foundation.

"In the time of Jesus thousands of priests laid a foundation, but

their foundation came to naught. But the foundation laid by Peter,

under the Bounty of Jesus, is everlasting--though Peter was but a

fisherman. Then do you lay the same foundation Peter laid, that it

may last forever!"

Joy flooded my soul as He spoke. When He had ended I knelt at His

feet, I kissed the hem of His robe. Divinely He smiled at me.

"I know," I said "Whose Voice is calling him."
"Insha'llah, you will make him a believer."
"Then I have not loved and suffered in vain?"

"Insha'llah, through you," the Master repeated, "he will become a

believer."

Just before dinner Elizabeth Stewart and Lilian Kappes

(on their way to Persia to teach in Dr Moody's school) arrived at

the hotel. The Master, of course, took them down to dinner, placing

them opposite Him at the table and calling me to sit at His side.

Several nations were represented at that table: Persia, America,

France and Russia--for a Russian believer had also just arrived.

And the Master said: "To the refreshing water of the Teachings of

Bahá'u'lláh come many and various birds from many lands and at

these cooling streams slake their thirst. When the lamp is ignited

the butterflies flutter around the light."

"May we," said Lilian Kappes, "be ready to singe our wings at this

Flame."

"Bravo!" said the Master. "I am very much pleased with your

answer."[85]

In the evening the Master came to my door. Elizabeth and Lilian

were in the room. I was off somewhere for a minute or two. He had

in His hand three flowers. One spray with three blossoms He left

for me. "This is for Juliet," He had said. Later He came back and

brought me a chocolate which He put in my mouth with His own

fingers, as a father might feed His little child. He often brought

chocolates to me. Here is the spray from His hand. (I pressed it

in my diary.)
On Monday, I went away.
__________

(Footnote. 1924. It all happened so suddenly, so bewilderingly.

Looking back now, I see why. I was not mad enough with love in

Thonon. I could be separated from Him.

Knowing that our whole party were His guests at the hotel and being

in such a material condition that I worried about His pocketbook,

I felt I must make some move to go. In 'Akka the Master Himself had

always told us when to go, but being His guest in a very expensive

hotel seemed to me a different situation. Edith had asked me to

come to Vevey on Monday and stay overnight with her and I thought

this might be a sign that my Heavenly Visit in Thonon was over. I

was puzzled and didn't know what to do and decided to consult

Laura. I met her by chance in the upstairs hall just outside the

Master's door and at once plunged into the subject.

"Laura," I said, "the Master is under such heavy expense. Don't you

think I ought to suggest leaving?" And Laura had barely finished

replying, "Perhaps you should, Juliet," when the Master opened His

door and came out.
"Chih miguyad?" (What did she say?) He asked.

Laura explained. And then--His answer fell like a blow, it was so

curt and indifferent.
"Khayli khub." (Very well.) That was all.

But He said something later which, by mistake, was never translated

to me. Edith was to spend Tuesday in Thonon and He said I must come

back with her. Edith herself urged me to do so, but not knowing

that the Master had invited me, I felt that I could not thrust

myself on Him. I thought of several people who had come, unasked,

to see Him at mealtime. I thought of the greedy little children

selling violets and His gentle rebuke to them when they held out

their hands for more francs: "Tell them that they have taken," and

said to myself: I have taken too. So, though it desolated me to see

Edith go without me, back to that Presence which was my Life, I

wouldn't let myself be persuaded.

I sailed with Edith as far as Lausanne and there, in

Lausanne, made another fatal mistake. I bought my ticket for New

York on a boat belonging to an independent line, which meant I

couldn't change to any other line. I thought I had to do this as

my money was running so low and this was the cheapest line and the

first boat leaving Genoa.

Edith had asked me to stay with her one more night, so I went back

to Vevey to wait for her. When she returned she said to me: "I have

something to tell you, Juliet, that will nearly kill you, but you

would rather know than not. The Master expected you today."

To return to Monday--when I went away.
__________

He sent for me early in the morning with Mulk to translate for me.

"Now will you give Me the messages, Juliet?"

I had many and I gave them all. When I mentioned Marion deKay He

said: "Give her My affectionate greeting. She must be educated for

a teacher. She must be taken great care of and treated very well.

Taken great care of," He repeated.

I spoke of dear Silvia Gannett: "She asked me to tell You, my Lord,

of a dream she had lately in which a voice said to her: 'I want you

to serve Me in London.' She felt sure that it was Your voice. But

she never mentioned this dream to me till one day she came to see

me and found me crying, with Your Tablet in my hand and Ahmad's

letter saying that You would be in London at the Races' Congress.

Then, when I explained why I was crying--that Mamma wouldn't let

me travel alone--she told me the dream and that now she saw the

meaning of it: she must go to London with me. But she could only

stay there a very short time, much as she longed to wait till You

came. She had to return home to get married."

The Master, at this, smiled so funnily, for Silvia is seventy-two!

Then He said: "It," (her dream, of course, and her obedience) "is

a sign that she will make progress and that her work in the Cause

will be very good. Tell her it is just as though she had seen Me.

Her journey is accepted as a visit. It will be just as though she

had seen Me, just the same."

In my hand I held a letter from Nancy Sholl with a message in it

for Him.

"Here is something interesting," I said. "Years ago I read a book

by Miss Sholl. It was called The Law of Life, which she proved in

her story to be sacrifice. The book was so spiritual that I longed

to give Miss Sholl the Message, but when I tried to find her I

heard that she lived in Ithaca. Then one day she walked into my

studio with some people who wanted to sublet it--she had moved from

Ithaca to New York--and we have been dear friends ever since. In

this letter she sends You 'the loving greetings of a sincere

seeker.'"

Smiling, the Master seized the letter. "Give her My most

affectionate and loving greeting. Tell her I took her letter away

from you."

He spoke some tender words to me. "I shall see you again," He

concluded. "When the time comes I will write for you."

I realized suddenly that I was going to leave Him. A great wave of

sorrow swept over me. I strained my eyes to His Face: and oh the

blinding Glory there! His Face was a sun and Divine Love blazed

from His eyes. It seemed to me I saw God.
"Always?" He breathed.
"Always, my Lord."

That look was the last. Mulk was called out and this left me alone

with the Master for a moment. I sat at His

feet in silence, my eyes downcast, feeling throughout my whole

being His holy calm and the peace of His Presence.

Then Laura knocked at the door and came in, followed by Hippolyte,

and together they talked of my plans, and, while they were talking,

the Master rose from His chair by the window and with His swift

step left the room.
__________

Still earlier that morning Zillu's-Sultan elder son[86] had come

to visit the Master. After a long private talk with Him, the prince

rushed into Mulk's room threw himself down on the couch and wept

bitterly.

"If only I could be born again," he sobbed, "into any other family

than mine! When I think that my own father has massacred so many

Bahá'ís; that it was through my grandfather's orders that thousands

of Bábis were slaughtered and The Báb Himself executed, I cannot

endure the blood that flows in my veins. If only I could be born

again!"[87]

It was on Wednesday, after those two sweet days with Edith, that

I sailed down the lake to Geneva. Oh Lake of Geneva! To me it is

not earthly at all. Hemmed off from the world by mountains,

ethereal in mist, hallowed by His Sacred Presence, it is like a

vision descended from Heaven. I can scarcely think of it as

permanent, but rather as a shining bit of the immortal world

revealed for the time as His environment.

I have already told of that sail to Geneva: the docking

of the boat at Thonon, which seemed to me a sign that the Master

was drawing me back to Him, since we had to cross the lake and go

out of our course to dock there; how crushed I was when no one

appeared at the landing to meet me; how desperate as the boat moved

away from Thonon and I felt I had lost my last chance to be with

my Lord again; my frantic desire to at least communicate with him

driving me to call Hippolyte the minute I reached my hotel, and

Hippolyte's breath-taking news: that the Master was coming the

following night to Geneva and wished me to get in touch with Edith

and ask her to join me there with Miss Hopkins.

Edith and Miss Hopkins arrived the next day a few hours earlier

than the Master. Miss Hopkins is a very interesting girl: nun-like,

really medieval. One thing she does beautifully is to illumine

parchment cards, like the old missals. We had a happy hour

together; then the two girls went off to rest and I to my balcony

to pray.

Mount Blanc was rosy in the sunset. A diadem of lights encircled

the lake. The mountains on the opposite shore--grizzled, almost

barren, striped with whitish rock--made me think of Palestine.

While we were dining--Edith, Miss Hopkins, and I--at a table facing

the window, we saw the Master's boat approaching. Edith and I

rushed out, but were too late to meet Him on the pier. We met Him

on the street, however, and that seemed so strange: to meet and be

greeted by Him, on a European street. We walked with, or rather

behind Him, to the Hotel de la Paix. His rooms, we found, were on

the same floor as ours, the top floor.

The Master would not take the elevator, but walked up those four

long flights of stairs; really, He floated up the stairs. That

gliding ascent, majestic, of the most

astonishing ease, was almost like a spirit soaring. It made me

think of what Ruha Khanum said to me once in Haifa, that even His

body was different from ours, "of a different fibre," she said.

The Master went straight to His room and Edith and I stood outside

in the hall with the Persians. It is a beautiful hall, square and

white with slender columns and an enormous well down the centre

where the staircase curves to the ground floor. Almost at once the

proprietor came up and there was a little trouble about the rooms,

Hippolyte not being there to arrange and Mulk and the others not

understanding French very well. Edith and I were just moving

forward to translate for them when the Master opened His door and

stepped out into the hall. His mere appearance settled the matter.

"Who is that?" the proprietor asked with a startled look, then

agreed to everything we asked.

I can see the Master now pacing up and down that hall, His hands

behind His back in a way He has, His step firm and royal. I can see

the turbaned head, the calm, noble profile luminous against the

white wall.

After this, the Master went with us into Edith's room and waited

there till His dinner was ready, talking to us tenderly. Suddenly

He turned to me. "Could you go to London, Juliet? Miss Rosenberg

has written inviting you to stay with her."

My heart leapt! Go to London with Him! Then, after all, this was

not the end, this added bounty in Geneva, this merciful bounty

granted to me in place of the lost day in Thonon. But, how could

I prolong my trip? I had almost no money left.

"My Lord," I said, "I should love above all things to go, but my

steamer ticket is bought and I can't exchange
[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá in Paris]

it, as it is on an independent line. And in order to catch the boat

I must leave Geneva tomorrow on the early train. But I could stay

till nine o'clock and try to make some kind of change."

__________

(Footnote. 1924. And here I made my third and most fatal

mistake--always thinking about pocketbooks, even that of the

all-powerful Lord instead of, with perfect trust, leaving

everything in His hands.)
__________

"No," He answered, "it is not necessary. It was just that Miss

Rosenberg wrote. Miss Rosenberg loves you very much. Everybody

loves you and Edith," He added, smiling. Then He asked Edith to

call Miss Hopkins in and this left me alone with Him for a moment.

Looking at me with questioning eyes, He whispered, "Always?"

"Always!"
__________

Dinner over, He sent first for Edith, then for me, to come to His

room. While Edith was with Him I prayed, standing on my balcony.

By now it was dusk. The lights around the lake sparkled like strung

stars. A purpose formed in my mind. Later I understood the real

Source of this impulse.

As I took my place at His feet I said: "Dr Hakim has told me You

weren't served well tonight; that You have eaten almost nothing.

You are hungry I know. Let us go out--Tamaddunu'l-Mulk and I--and

bring You some fruit with our own hands."

He is always thinking for others and to see His appreciation of our

slightest thought for Him, the warm happy love that beams from His

eyes at such times, is unbearably touching. But He would not let

us get anything.

"No, no," He said. "No thank you. I was beautifully served. There

was chicken, and many other things to come. I was too tired to

eat--that was all."
"What have you to ask, Juliet?"

"That I may always see Thy Face. To see it will protect me from

temptation."

"You must always see it. There must be no temptation." Then He,

Himself introduced my next subject! "I do not," He said, "want to

make you angry"--at which I looked up at Him laughing--"I do not

want to hurt you, Juliet. But I must tell you something."

I knew what was coming. I pressed His hand.

"Don't think I am going to ask you to marry Mr Remey. Even if you

wished to do so now, I would not wish it. But about Dr Grant ..."

Then in a marvellous way He analyzed Percy Grant's character and

the nature, even the history of our attachment, taking my breath

away by His perfect knowledge of the whole thing.

"But, my Lord, isn't it true that he has other qualities--for

example, his courage and his force--that would make him a wonderful

servant of the Cause?"

"Ah, that is another affair," said the Master. "I am thinking now

of your future."

"Some men," He went on, "are like this. They do not wish to marry

and they love the love of women, and should you let this continue,

it will go on forever in the same way until in the end he leaves

you. Besides, meantime you may fall into difficulty. It is often

by just such a thing that a black line is drawn across a girl's

character. Now when you return to New York, Juliet, you must end

this. Either you must marry him or separate yourself from him, cut

yourself entirely from him. Understand, I

do not wish to separate you. I wish you to marry him. But I want

the present state of things to end.

"I am speaking to you in this way because I love you so much. I

love you very much; therefore I say these things to you.

"If you should marry him it may be good for the Cause--you may give

him the Message--or, it may not be good. I do not care about this.

I am thinking of your happiness."

"Ask the Master," I said to Tamaddunu'l-Mulk, "to tell me His Will

and whatever it is I will do it, for I love His Will. I love

following it. I intended to speak of this tonight. I intended to

say: I am ready now to put Dr Grant out of my life."

"No, no," answered the Master. "You must understand that I do not

want to separate you. I want you to marry him. It is My wish that

you marry him. When you go back can you not say to him: 'We must

end this in one of two ways. If you love me, marry me. There is no

obstacle. If not, I must cut myself from you.'"

"Oh my Lord," I said, hiding my face on His knee, "how could I say

that to him? I should be ashamed to."

I had never refused the Master anything before, but I quailed at

the thought of proposing to Percy Grant!
__________

(Footnote. 1947. I hate to copy these idiotic words: "I had never

refused the Master anything before." And on top of all my

protestations that I loved His Will! Who on earth was I to "refuse

the Master?" The awful impudence of it! The unconscious complacency

of that comment was much worse than what I did.
__________
"Then cannot your mother say it for you?"
"She won't even speak to him."
"Have you no friend who can take this message?"

"No. And besides: oh my Lord, how could I force him?"

"But you are not a child. And you must think of your future. Many

men have wished to marry you."
"But, my Lord, I have no desire to marry."

"But I want you to marry, if not Dr Grant, then some other.

Otherwise, when you are older you will fall into great misery. You

can paint now; you are young, but you must think of your future,

my daughter." His fatherly tenderness touched me to the heart.

"But it would be very difficult to marry a man I didn't love."

"That is the way with everyone," He said.

"My Lord," I asked, "mightn't I stay away from him--stop going to

his church, refuse his invitations, refuse to see him when he

comes?"

"Perhaps," and He made a laughing comment on human nature. "But,"

returning to His first suggestions, (with anxiety, it seemed to me,

for He glanced from side to side as though He, Himself, were

looking for a messenger) "is there no one to take him this word:

marriage or separation?"

"No, but if You wish, my Lord, I will do it myself."

"I leave that in your hands, only do something to make him realize

... See," He said, "how much I love you! I have come to Geneva to

tell you this and have stayed up so late" (it was nearly midnight)

"talk to you about it."
__________

(Footnote. I wish I could write everything He said that night. At

times He was so comic about poor Percy's character that I couldn't

help laughing with Him. When

you are in His Presence nothing really matters except the eternal

things.)
__________

He looked very tired, and my heart smote me. How we accept His

sacrifices, as if this immortal, universal King belonged just to

us!
"Is there anything else you wish to ask, Juliet?"

"Only to say once more that I long to forever fix in my mind Thy

Face. This will keep me firm and steadfast, desiring nothing but

Thee."

"When your heart is perfectly pure and your love for Me increasing,

then you shall see My Face."

"Come and knock at My door in the morning," He said.

"But I must leave so early. I must take the six-fifty train."

"Come whenever you are dressed. I shall be up."
__________

Edith woke me at dawn. The horizon was crimson, the lake in its rim

of dark mountains, a crystal mirror.

I went to the Master alone. In His exquisite thoughtfulness He had

left the door ajar. I knelt at His feet. A great flood of sorrow

rose in me.

"Don't cry!" said His tender voice and I felt His delicate, vital

fingers wiping the tears from my eyes. I felt my heart suddenly at

peace, as though He had laid His Power upon it and checked that

uprising storm of wild grief.
"Always?" He asked.

"Always!" After a moment I added in Persian: "I shall be with You

always."
In English He replied, and none but the Comforter

Himself could speak in such a tone: "With Me--always." Off the

coast of Spain

Here in my cabin alone on this queer little ship I am fortifying

myself for what lies before me in New York. I stay all day in my

cabin, to avoid the people, and pray and write. To none of these

people could I give the Message, nor anything else, in fact.

Always I seek the Master's Face. Sometimes He dawns on me in

immortal glory and sometimes He smiles at me. Only through service,

only through prayer, only through obedience shall I climb to His

Presence and live in it "always".

I went to Thonon, not to find Him there, but to find Him

afterwards. I have not yet found Him, except for brief moments. In

the anguish before me, in the deprivation, in the "Heaven of

Poverty": there shall I find Him.

I have been curiously stripped on this journey. Through the

chivalry of an idealist who offered to help me at the customs, I

lost my trunk. In Naples I lost my fountain pen; somewhere, my

prayer book--even my prayer book! I have just the clothes on my

back, nothing else. This diary, with my book of Tablets (the

Master's Tablets to me) and the 'Akka diary, I have been carrying

in a little bag, and thank God these are safe.

There is the dinner bell. I must go and sit with these funny

people, who ply their toothpicks so vigorously (which makes me

horribly sick) and accuse me of "seeing angels".

"I no want you see angels," said a fiery musician to

me yesterday. "I want you" (pounding his chest) "to see me."

So I fly to my cabin and bolt my door.
8 September 1911

My struggle began today. Peace went. Standing at the bow of the

boat just now, the salt wind in my face, the sea rough with

whitecaps, I realized many things.

I have been more anxious to lead Percy Grant to the Kingdom than

to be led there myself. I have counted more on eternal union with

him than on eternal union with God. I have never been able to

disentangle my love for the Cause from my love for him, or from my

hopes and desires for him and myself--my future with him.

Now I must cut these two loves apart. But how? Nearing New York

15 September 1911. Morning.

A captive, fettered by mine own desire, Yet with a soul that panted

to be free, Yet with a heart on fire For Him who freeth all

captivity. Suppliant, I knelt before His Prison door. The latch is

lifted and wide flung the door! Behold the amazing Glory of His

Face! Veils, veils of Light, no more, These mortal eyes discern in

His strange grace. I cry: "O Mystery, Grant that I see!"

With tender fingers quickening in their touch, Gently He wiped away

mine unshed tears. "O thou," He breathed, "who lovest much, Await

the sure unfolding of the years, The vision purified Through hope

denied." The years unfolded, while a heavenly rain Of tears washed

ever clearer my dim sight. Suppliant I knelt again, Unfettered now,

before the Eternal Light. "Accept the heart I bring To Thee, O

King!" I lift mine eyes to His Divinity, Eyes streaming now with

tears of love alone. God! What is this I see? For veils of night

and veils of Light are gone, Melted--torn--burned away In flaming

Day. Haloed with rays, encircled as with fire, The clouds of earth

rolled back, in ambient space, Eyes as two stars of living fire,

Clearly I see the Christ--the Eternal Face-- The Father in the Son,

The One--the ONE!
Nearer New York
15 September 1911

"Always for Me, always for Me!" Ah, Whose the Voice that stirs the

night In a chant sweeping in from Eternity Like the sighing wind

o'er a boundless sea, "My heaven, My soul, My light! Thy heart for

Me, thy breast for Me, Always for Me, always for Me! Thine eyes for

Me, thy brow for Me, Always for Me! Thy soul for Me, thy spirit for

Me, Always for Me, always for Me! Thy blood for Me--thy blood for

Me, Thy blood for Me!" "Always for Thee, always for Thee," My heart

to the Heavenly Wooer sings. "Sever my heart, my mind, mine eye

From the mortal vanishing things! Lift me above the earth-desire,

Higher and higher, higher and higher To the placeless pyre of

undying fire, The love of the King of Kings! And on Thine earth

where Thy footstep rings Pour out my blood in Thy hallowed Way,

That mortals, the red sign following, May attain to the Fount of

Day. Always for Thee, always for Thee! On through the worlds of

Eternity To the endless end no eye can see, The bird of fire to the

Burning Tree! On, on to the beat of tireless wings-- Always for

Thee!"

This last little one I wrote after I left 'Akka, in 1909: O King

of Kings, O King of Kings! My heart it is Thy quivering lyre. Thy

vital fingers sweep its strings, Sweep its strings, sweep its

strings. Its strings are set afire, my Lord, Its strings are set

afire! Oh kindled by divine desire, For Thee it sings, for Thee it

sings, Forevermore for Thee it sings, This heart that is Thy lyre,

my Lord, This heart that is thy lyre!
15 September 1911

I am approaching New York--and my ordeal. But, thank God, I have

been gathering strength. This week has been one of such frightful

storm that I haven't been able to write a word. But, through the

storm, the more brightly shone His Face. 48 West Tenth Street

2 October 1911

I love this dear little house. It is very simple and old-fashioned

in an old-fashioned street. It looks like the homes of my

childhood, only more simple and therefore more lovely. And yet, how

it complicates the problem with which I have returned to live in

it, since it is almost opposite the house of Percy Grant. Strange,

to be moved so close to him by something outside my own

will at this of all moments, when I must separate myself from him.

I say "outside my own will," for I didn't choose this house; it

came as the result of prayer. We tried for weeks and weeks and

couldn't find a house in a neighbourhood to suit Mamma. Then one

morning I got on my knees and prayed and, just a little later in

the morning, Marjorie and I, on our way to Greenwich Village, saw

the sign "For Rent" on 48 West Tenth Street and Mamma approved of

this neighbourhood!
23 November 1911
O Handmaiden of God!

The news of your trouble and difficulty on the way caused Us great

sorrows. In truth the trouble was very hard to bear. I hope you may

receive a great reward for it. The cause of this trouble and

difficulty was that for the love of seeing that unkind person you

made great haste to go.

Remember My advices. Find a friend whose heart is yours, but not

one who has a thousand hearts (affections). Think of God's Will,

because God is the most kind.
Upon you be the Glory of God.
(signed) Abdu'l-Bahá Abbas
[P.S.] I send you a small sum of money.

I shall never forget the awful moment when I read this Tablet. "For

the love of seeing that unkind person you made great haste to

go."(!) Every morning after that I awoke with these words ringing

in my ears: "You made great haste to go."

My first thought was: "How can it be true?" So unconscious are we

of our own real condition. Then I looked deep into my heart. Yes,

it was true. I was always saying to myself in Thonon: "When I

return to New York I will tell Percy this, I will tell him that."

I looked forward to that return with excitement for it meant

beginning a new life in a new home opposite his. I started back

happily, to be overtaken at Geneva by the Master and His stern

command: "Marry Dr Grant, or leave him. Cut yourself entirely from

him."

Oh that pause at Geneva! I can see the Master now, the unexpected

Visitor, leading Edith and me up those four flights of stairs to

the Upper Chamber. I can see Him floating before us, the Being from

worlds above Who has lit upon earth for a brief time.

"You made great haste to go." How blind I have been and how I have

lost through my blindness. But for my stubborn attachment I might

have spent weeks in Europe with Him, in Paris and London. For the

"small sum of money" was the most pointed of signs that I could

easily have given up my passage on "the independent line." It was

$120: exactly the cost of the ticket.

I had not written to the Master of my "difficulties" on the way.

Only to Mulk had I mentioned these trifles--the seven days of

storm, the temporary loss of my trunk--for I got it again after

nine weeks. Yet in the midst of His great pressure of work He had

hastened to write me, to express His tender sympathy for my little

inconveniences, to open my eyes to their real cause, my so

persistent attachment--and, at this insecure moment, as I begin my

"new life" opposite the house of Percy Grant--to repeat His warning

at Geneva. How vigilant is God's watchfulness over His least

creature!

Diary of Juliet Thompson: Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Notes

`Abdu'l-Bahá in America
25 March to 7 December 1912

To the attracted maid-servant of God, Juliet Thompson.

HE IS GOD!
O thou candle of the Love of God!

Thy numerous letters were received. According to the promise, by

the Will of God, I shall embark on the boat 25 March and in the

latter part reach Naples, where I shall stay a few days and from

thence start for New York.

Verily, this is great glad tidings. Upon thee by Baha'u'l-Abha.

(signed) Abdu'l-Bahá Abba. Translated in the Orient.

New York
Twelve o'clock, 25 March 1912

It is just midnight. TODAY the Master sails for America. I feel His

Presence strongly.
__________
Received March 25:

The Church of the Ascension. 5 Avenue and 10th Street.

23 March
My dear Juliet:

I understand that Abdu'l-Bahá is to arrive in New York 10

April--that is, in Easter week,--so that the 14 April would be his

first Sunday in New York.

If his friends in this city would feel any value or assistance in

having him speak at the eleven o'clock service in the Church of the

Ascension, in place of my sermon, I shall be more than happy to

invite him to the Ascension pulpit in my place. I should like to

show so important and splendid a person, and those who love him,

whatever hospitality and goodwill can be expressed in this town,

by such a plan.

If, however, his coming in the middle of the week means that he

ought to get more quickly into public contact with the city, which

may well be the case if his stay is brief, then I would offer the

Church of the Ascension to the committee in charge of his affairs

to

have any kind of service they please, in the daytime or evening,

between his arrival, let us say 10 April--and the following Sunday.

That is to say I make one of two propositions: to offer him my

pulpit Sunday, 14 April, at eleven a.m., or to offer the Church,

unhampered by any form of service, between the tenth and the

fourteenth.
Faithfully,
(signed) Percy S. Grant
__________

What will obedience bring forth, if half-obedience brings forth

this? I have refused all winter to see Percy Grant.

I wrote thanking him and asking him to get in touch with the

committee of arrangements, Mr Mills and Mr MacNutt.

__________

The Church of the Ascension. 5 Avenue and 10th Street.

28 March 1912
My dear Juliet:

I thank you for your nice letter about Abdu'l-Bahá. Whatever may

seem most agreeable to those having the matter in charge will be

altogether satisfactory to me.

Whatever I can do I hope you will allow me to do, to honour such

a distinguished visitor from the East--one so loved by my friends.

Believe me to be faithfully yours,
(signed) Percy S. Grant
8 April 1912

Little did I dream when I began this diary what I would write in

its closing pages! This morning I telephoned Percy.

"This is Juliet."
"Ah, Juliet."

"I want to tell you two things. First, `Abdu'l-Bahá is on the

Cedric and will arrive Wednesday morning. And--is your time very

full Thursday? For I think He will send for you almost at once."

"Wait. Let me get my card, Juliet. No, I have no engagements for

Thursday, except in the evening, and could come any time during the

day to see Him. I am very happy. I shall be very glad to see the

Master, Juliet."

"As soon as He arrives, someone will let you know."

I then brought up the second thing.

"I'd like to explain something," I said. "Has Dr Guthrie got into

touch with you?"
"No."

"Then I hardly need to explain. But it was this: Charles James had

heard some rumour that the Master was to speak in your church. He

mentioned this to Dr Guthrie, who immediately wanted to offer his

church, too. This morning a letter came from Dr Guthrie inviting

the Master to speak on the night of the fourteenth. I tell you all

this really to say that it was not through me Dr Guthrie heard of

your plans."

"I am a very easy person, Juliet, in misunderstandings."

"I know that."

"And I am glad Dr Guthrie has made the same offer that I have."

"No one has made the same offer you have."

It was then he repeated something he had said to Mr MacNutt; I

can't remember just what.
"That was beautiful of you," I answered.

"No, it was not. And Juliet: I don't want you to feel that this is

a favour. I want you to feel--to understand--that you have a

proprietary interest in the church: a proprietary interest; that

it is yours to give. The church is yours. The Parish House is

yours. The Rectory is yours.[88] We will ask the Master to the

Rectory and form little groups to meet Him. I don't want to bore

you, Juliet," (oh imagine him boring me!) "but I want you to feel

that it is yours, this house. Here it is, just at the end of the

street. Ask anyone to the Rectory, anyone you wish. You may

eliminate the Rector, if you would rather not have me here ..."

This and much more. He contradicted that last statement once. "I

want you," he said, with his appealing boyishness, "to come around

me again, Juliet." His voice broke. He stammered a little and

ended. "I am a tongue-tied person when it comes to strong feeling."

"I should like," I said, "to take you by the hand and lead you to

the Master myself."

"I want you to, Juliet. I don't want to do it any other way. I want

you to be there. I don't want to do it without you."

"Then we will meet on Thursday. We will see each other on Thursday

in His Presence. I think it will be beautiful to meet there."

"It will be the north and the south in His Presence, Juliet."

"The Master has loved you a long time, Percy, for your work."

"Some people say they are loved for their enemies, Juliet. If I am

loved, it is for my friends."
10 April 1912. 11:15 p.m.

Tomorrow He comes! Who comes? "Who is this that cometh from

Bozrah?"

This is a night of holy expectation. The air is charged with

sanctity. I can almost hear the Gloria in Excelsis.

How close He is tonight! Is it His prayers I feel? Why has earth

become suddenly divine?
Midnight
The Master comes TODAY!
11 April 1912
Oh day of days!

I was wakened this morning while it was yet dark by something

shining into my eyes. It was a ray from the moon, its waning

crescent framed low in my windowpane.

Symbol of the Covenant, was my first thought. How perfectly

beautiful to be wakened today by it! But at once I remembered

another time when I had seen the

waning moon hanging, then, above palm trees. I was on the roof of

the House in 'Akka with the Master and Munavvar Khanum. The Master

was pointing to the moon. "The East. The moon. No!" He said. "I am

the Sun of the West."

At dawn, kneeling at my window, I prayed in the swelling light for

all this land, now sleeping, that it would wake to received its

Lord; conscious, as I prayed, of an overshadowing Sacred Presence:

a great, glorious, burning Presence--the Sun of Love rising. This

fiery dawn was but a pale symbol of such a rising.

Between seven and eight I went to the pier with Marjorie Morten and

Rhoda Nichols. The morning was crystal clear, sparkling. I had a

sense of its being Easter: of lilies, almost seen, blooming at my

feet.

All the believers of New York had gathered at the pier to meet the

Master's ship. Marjorie and I had suggested to them that the Master

might not want this public demonstration, but their eagerness was

too great to be influenced by just two, and so we had gone along

with them--only too glad to do so, to tell the truth.

During the morning the harbour misted over. At last, in the mist

we saw: a phantom ship! And at that very moment some newsboys ran

through the crowd, waving Extras. "The Pope is dead! The Pope is

dead!" they shouted. The Pope was not dead. The Extras had been

printed only on a rumour; but what a symbol, and how exactly timed!

Closer and closer, ever more substantial, came that historic ship,

that epoch-making ship, till at last it swam out solid into the

light, one of the Persians sitting in the bow in his long robes,

'aba, and turban. This was Siyyid

Asadu'llah, a marvellous, witty old man, who had come with the

Master to prepare His meals.

He told us later that when the ship was approaching the harbour and

the Master saw, as His first view of America, the Wall Street

skyscrapers, He had laughed and said: "Those are the minarets of

the West."[89] What divine irony!

The ship docked, but the Master did not appear. Suddenly I had a

great glimpse. In the dim hall beyond the deck, striding to and fro

near the door, was One with a step that shook you! Just that one

stride, charged with power, the sweep of a robe, a majestic head,

turban crowned--that was all I saw, but my heart stopped.

Marjorie's instinct and mine had been true. Mr Kinney was called

for to come on board the ship. He returned with a disappointing

message. The Master sent us His love but wanted us to disperse now.

He would meet us all at the Kinneys' house at four.

Everyone obeyed at once except Marjorie, Rhoda, and myself!

Marjorie, who loves the Teachings but has never wholly accepted

them, said: "I can't leave till I've seen Him. I can't. I WON'T!"

So, though we followed the crowd to the street, we slipped away

there and looked around for some place to hide. Quite a distance

below the big entrance to the pier we saw a fairly deep embrasure

into which a window was set, with the stone wall jutting out from

it. Here we flattened ourselves against the window, Rhoda (who is

conspicuously tall) clasping a long white box of lilies which she

had brought for the Master. Just in front of the entrance stood

Mr.

Mills' car, his chauffeur in it. Suddenly it rolled forward and,

to our utter dismay, parked directly in front of us. Now we were

caught: certain to be discovered. But there was no help for it, for

Marjorie still refused to budge till she had seen the Master.

Then, He came--through the entrance with Mr MacNutt and Mr Mills,

and turned and walked swiftly toward the car. In a panic we waited.

A few nights ago Marjorie and I had a double dream. In her dream,

I was out in space with her. In mine, we were in a room together

and the Master had just entered it. He walked straight up to

Marjorie, put His two hands on her shoulders and pressed and

pressed till she sank to her knees. And while she was sinking, she

lifted her face to His and everything in her seemed to be dying

except her soul, which looked out through her raised eyes in a sort

of agony of recognition.

Today, after one glance at the Master, this was just the way she

looked.
"Now," she said, "I know."

As the Master was stepping into the car, He turned and--smiled at

us.
__________

We met Him in the afternoon at the Kinneys'. When I arrived with

Marjorie, He was sitting in the centre of the dining room near a

table strewn with flowers. He wore a light pongee 'aba. At His

knees stood the Kinney children, Sanford and Howard, and His arms

were around them. He was very white and shining. No words could

describe His ineffable peace. The people stood about in rows and

circles: several hundred in the big rooms, which all open into each

other. In the dining room many sat on the floor, Marjorie and I

included. We
[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá holding a child.]

made a dark background for His Glory. Only our tears reflected Him,

and almost everyone there was weeping just at the sight of Him. For

at last we saw divinity incarnate. Divinely He turned His head from

one child to the other, one group to another. I wish I could

picture that turn of the head--an oh, so tender turn, with that

indescribable heavenly grace caught by Leonardo da Vinci in his

Christ of the Last Supper (in the study for the head)--but in

`Abdu'l-Bahá irradiated by smiles and a lifting of those eyes

filled with glory, which even Leonardo, for all his mystery, could

not have painted. The very essence of compassion, the most poignant

tenderness is in that turn of the head.

The next morning early the Master telephoned me (that is, Ahmad[90]

telephoned for Him) and nearly every morning after. Can you imagine

the sweetness of that--to be wakened every morning by a word from

Him? Sometimes He just inquired how I was, but often He called me

to Him.

When I first went to see Him He asked me only one question. "How

is your mother?"
"Not very well, my Lord."
"What is the matter?"

"She is grieving." And I told Him why. My brother is soon to be

married to a quite beautiful, brilliant girl who, however, doesn't

want to make friends with his family!

"Bring your mother to Me," He said. "I will comfort her."

He sent for her that very night. I was terribly afraid she wouldn't

go--she has been so opposed to my work in the

Cause--and Ahmad called up in the midst of a thunderstorm! But when

I took the message to her--that the Master wished her to come to

Him now--she jumped up from her chair and began to scurry around.

"Just wait till I get my rubbers," she said.

We found Him exhausted, lying on His bed. He had seen hundreds of

people that day, literally, at a big reception and in His own

rooms. Mamma, who is very shy and undemonstrative, rushed to the

bedside and fell on her knees.

"Welcome, welcome!" said the Master. "You are very welcome, Mrs

Thompson.

"You must be very thankful for your daughter. Praise be to God, she

is a daughter of the Kingdom. If she were an earthly daughter, of

what use would she be to you? At best she could do you a little

material good. But she is a heavenly daughter, a daughter of the

Kingdom. Therefore she is the means of drawing your soul nearer to

God. Her value to you is not apparent now. When one possesses a

thing its value is not realized. But you will realize later. Mary

Magdalene was but a villager; she was even scorned by the people,

but now her name moves the whole earth, and in the Kingdom of God

she is very near. Your daughter is kind to you. If your son is

faithless, she is faithful. She will become dearer and dearer to

you. She will take the place of your son. But in the end your son

will be very good. This is only temporary.

"I became very grieved today when, upon inquiring for you, I heard

of your sorrow. And now I want to comfort you. Trust in God. God

is kind. God is faithful. God never forgets you. If others are

unkind what difference does it make when God is kind? When God is

on your

side it does not matter what men do to you. But your son will be

good in the end.

"God is kind to you. And I am going to be kind to you. And I am

faithful!"

Mamma, still on her knees, bent and kissed His hand. "Tell the

Master," she said to Ahmad, "I have always loved Him. Lua knows

that." (If Lua knew, I certainly didn't.)

"I have no need of a witness," the Master answered, so tenderly.

"My heart knows."

The next day Mamma said to me: "All my bitterness has gone. The

Master must be helping me."[91]

It was on Saturday, 13 April, that Mamma and I visited the Master.

On Friday He had called me early, asking me to meet Him at the

MacNutts'.

I shall never cease to see Him as He looked speaking from their

stairway, standing below a stained glass window in a ray of

sunlight, the powerful head, the figure in its flowing robes,

outlined in light.

The Master has a strange quality of beautifying His environment,

of throwing a glamour over it and blotting out the ugly. The

MacNutts' house is ugly; the one redeem-

ing feature of that stairway, its window. All I saw as the Master

stood there was Himself, the window, the ray of light. His words

lifted my soul on wings!

In the evening Friday He spoke in Miss Phillips' studio. The

enormous room was packed. At his dear invitation I sat [on] His

right (I suppose because I had given Miss Phillips the Message);

Marjorie at His left near Him. In the simple setting of that

studio, its overhead light filling the deep forms of His face with

shadow, He looked ruggedly, powerfully beautiful. His words I will

not give. They have been kept.[92]

The very day He arrived, Thursday, the Master sent for Percy Grant,

but He appointed Friday to see him, in the afternoon. I was not

invited to the interview, so in spite of the happy arrangement

Percy and I had made, I knew I should have to stay away. Nor was

I told very much about it, only that the Master had planned with

Dr Grant to accept his church for Sunday (the fourteenth) for His

first address in New York, choosing the Church of the Ascension out

of thirteen other--and some of the clergy had even wired to

Gibraltar offering their pulpits for that date! And one other very

little thing (Mr MacNutt himself gave me this scrap of news): as

he was standing with Dr Grant at the elevator after leaving the

Master's suite, Dr Grant said to him: "You can't help but love the

old gentleman."

To me Percy put it more elegantly: "The Master compels one's love

and esteem. What He radiates is peace and love."

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá in New York in the garden of Howard

MacNutt, 1912.]

Saturday, 13 April, the Master spoke at Marjorie Morten's.[93]

Again, because of the crowd, He spoke from the stairway, dominating

all the beauty of Marjorie's long drawing room, with its rich

colour and carvings and masterly paintings, by His superlative

beauty.

His theme that day was the spiritual seasons, and in the midst of

His talk a delicious thing happened which, slight though it was,

I want to keep. In its very slightness it may draw the people of

the future closer to the Master, just as it drew us.

These tender little touches of His humour and simplicity, bridging

for the moment the infinite space between us and His pure

Perfection, making His Divinity accessible: how precious, how

heavenly sweet they are, of what unique value! The disciples of

Christ, looking beyond that awful chasm of the crucifixion into the

mystery of their days with Him, were, I suppose, awed into silence

about the little things--the adorable little things. So the Man of

sorrow has been just the Man of sorrow to us. We have never formed

any conception of the Man of love and joy, great buoyant joy; a

Christ whose Love overflowed into little tendernesses and Whose joy

overflowed into fun and wit--a happy, smiling, laughing Christ. And

yet I am sure He was that.

But now to tell of this small thing. With His celestial eloquence

the Master had described the spiritual springtime.

"Va tabistan," He began and paused for Ahmad to translate.

Dead silence. Poor Ahmad had lost the English word.

But while he stood helpless, the Master supplied it Himself.

"Summer!" He laughed. Whereupon a little ripple of delight ran

through the audience. His charm had captured them all.

After the meeting He went up to rest in Mr Morten's room. He had

seen a hundred and forty people that morning and was so worn out

at the end of His talk that He looked almost ill. His fatigue was

apparent to everyone--and yet the people had no pity. When I

returned from an errand to the kitchen, literally hundreds were

streaming toward His room; a dozen were in the room; in the hall

were many peering faces, and climbing up the stairs--a procession!

"Oh can't we shut the door?" I asked Dr Farid. But the Master heard

me.
"Let them come now," He said gently.

A mother with a Báby stood near the door. The Master took The Báby

from her and tenderly pressed it to His heart. "Beautiful Báby!

Little chicken!" He said in His dear English; then explained that

"little chicken" was the Turkish pet name for child.

A young single-taxer[94] began to question Him. "What message shall

I take to my friends?" he ended.

"Tell them," laughed the Master (that wonderful spicy humour in His

face) "to come into the Kingdom of God. There they will find plenty

of land and there are no taxes on it."
Sunday. Oh, Sunday!

At the Master's own invitation I met Him at the Rectory, a half

hour before the service.

As Miss Barry was holding her Sunday school class downstairs, we

were invited upstairs, to the back room on the second floor. There,

with the Master and the Persians and Edward Getsinger, I waited in

supreme happiness. Very soon Percy came in. Approaching the Master,

he bent his head reverently.

"In New Testament language," he said, "this would be called an

upper chamber."[95]
The Master smiled sweetly and took his hand.

After he left, the Master turned to me. "This is a dish you have

cooked for Me, Juliet," He laughed.
"I hope it is cooked all the way through!"
"Insha'llah," smiled the Master.

"I have more dishes to serve to You when You are rested," I

ventured.

"I hope they are light," He replied, "and will rest easily on My

digestion. Most of these dishes are so heavy!"

I inquired for dear Ruha Khanum, who has been very ill.

"I have put her in the hands of the Blessed Perfection," said our

Lord, "and now I don't worry at all."
He spoke of my mother very lovingly.

"Tell her to trust in God," He repeated. "Tell her that God is

faithful. Read the Hidden Words to her."

The time came to go to the church. The Persians, Edward Getsinger,

and I went first: marching in, as Percy had planned it, with the

processional, bringing up the rear of the processional! For nearly

a year I hadn't once entered the Church of the Ascension; and now,

what a very surprising return!
The Master waited in the vestry-room.

When I try to express the perfection of that service--I mean, the

arrangement of it--I can find no words. It was the conception of

an artist, of a true poet. The altar and the whole chancel were

banked with calla lilies. On the back of the Bishop's chair hung

a victor's wreath, an exact reproduction of the Greek victor's

wreath, classically simple: a small oval of laurel with its leaves

free at the top. Its meaning went to my heart.

Dr Grant read first a prophecy from the Old Testament pointing

directly to this Day, to Bahá'u'lláh; then the thirteenth Chapter

of Corinthians. These were not the lessons for the day but

specially chosen.

At the end of the Second Lesson, just as the choir began to sing

in a great triumphant outburst "Jesus Lives!" `Abdu'l-Bahá with

that step of His, which has been described as the walk of either

a shepherd or a king, entered the chancel, "suddenly come to His

Temple!" Percy Grant had quietly left his seat and gone into the

vestry-room and had returned with the Master, holding His hand. For

a moment they stood at the altar beneath that fine mural, The

Resurrection by John La Farge; then with beautiful deference Percy

led the Master to the Bishop's chair. (This broke the nineteenth

canon of the Episcopal Church, which forbids the unbaptized to sit

behind the altar rail!)

The prayers over, Dr Grant made a short introductory address,

speaking not from the pulpit but the chancel steps. Never shall I

forget what I saw then. Percy, strong and erect, with his

magnificently set head ("like the head of some Viking" as Howard

MacNutt says), giving, with a fire even greater than usual--with

a strange, sparkling magnetism--the Bahá'í Message to his congre-

gation; and behind him: a flashing Face, unlike the face of any

mortal, haloed by the victor's wreath, visibly inspiring him. For

with every flash from those eyes, which were fixed on Dr Grant,

would appear a fresh charge of energy in him. There was something

wonderfully rhythmic in this transmission of fire to the words and

the delivery of the man speaking. Was it the sign of some

susceptibility in this hitherto unyielding man to the power of

`Abdu'l-Bahá? Or was it just that Power: transcendent,

irresistible, quickening whom it chose?

"May the Lord lift the light of His Countenance upon you." Ah, what

happens when the Lord does!

How can I tell of that moment when the Master took the place of

Percy Grant on the chancel steps? When, standing in His flowing

robes there, He turned His unearthly Face to the people and

said:[96] "Dr Grant has just read from the thirteenth Chapter of

Corinthians that the day would come when you would see face to

face."

It was too great to put into words; it was almost too great to

bear. The pain of intense rapture pierced my heart. Could the

people fail to recognize? Oh, had they recognized what would He not

have revealed to them? But He could go no further. He swerved to

another subject.

"I have come hither," He said, "to find that material civilization

has progressed greatly, but the spiritual civilization has been

left behind. The material civilization is likened unto the glass

of a lamp chimney. The spiritual civilization is like the light in

that chimney. The material civilization should go hand-in-hand with

the spiritual civilization. Material civilization may be likened

unto a beautiful body, while spiritual civilization is the spirit

that enters the body and gives to it life. With the propelling

power of spiritual civilization the result will be greater.

"His Holiness Jesus Christ came to this world that the people might

have through Him the civilization of Heaven, a spirit of oneness

with God. He came to breathe the spirit into the body of the world.

There must be oneness in the world of man. When this takes place

we will have the Most Great Peace.

"Today the body politic needs the oneness of the world and

universal peace. But to spread the feeling of peace and firmly

implant it in the minds of men a certain propelling Power is

required.

"It is self-evident that spiritual civilization cannot be

accomplished through material means, for the interests of the

various nations differ. It is self-evident that it cannot be

accomplished through patriotism, for countries differ in their

ideas of patriotism. It is impossible save through spiritual power.

Compared with this all other means are too weak to bring about

universal peace.

"Man has two wings: his material power and development, and his

spiritual understanding and achievements. With one wing alone he

cannot fly. Therefore, no matter how far material civilization

advances, without the other, great things cannot be accomplished.

... Humanity, generally speaking, is immersed in a sea of

materiality ..."

Dr Grant asked the Master to give the benediction. Apparently He

gave no blessing but asked for one for us.

Against His high background of lilies He stood, His face uplifted

in prayer, His eyes closed, the palms of His

hands uplifted. I seemed to feel streams of Life descending,

filling those cupped hands. On either side of Him knelt the

clergymen, facing the altar. Percy Grant's head was bowed low. It

was a breathless moment. Then the Master raised His resonant voice

and chanted.

The recessional hymn was "Christ our Lord has risen again."

How can words tell what I realized, or thought I realized, at that

incomparable service?

This church had been my cross for years, from which I had never

been able to escape--though twice I had made the attempt, twice

wrenching myself away, only to be guided back by what seemed to me

in each instance the clear Will of God, expressed through a

striking miracle. Guided back to mortal pain. Was I seeing, this

morning, divine results of this pain?

And not only had I suffered more vitally here than in any other

place, prayed more passionately; not only had it been the scene of

my deepest inner conflict, but the cause of all this had been

dramatically enacted here. Here in this pulpit, with all his great

force, his disturbing magnetism and the fire of his eloquence,

Percy Grant had opposed my unshakeable belief, thundering

denunciations of "the subtle", "the Machiavellian Oriental" (God

forgive me for quoting this)--of the slumbering and superstitious

Orient--the Orient that brought to the West "nothing but disease

and death"--determined to conquer this Faith of mine which made me

resistant to him. He had even gone so far as to openly name "the

Bahá'í sect" in his pulpit and to warn his flock against it.

And now, framing that matchless head of the Master, who sat there

so still in His Glory, hung the victor's

wreath! Oh for words vivid and sublime enough to make you see Him

sitting there, in the very spot where He had been so violently

denied!

The Master took me back into the Rectory, into the big, dark front

room. Percy rushed in for a moment, still in his surplice, his

cheeks flushed, his eyes very bright and blue.

"Juliet," he called, looking in from the dining room, "ask if the

Master wants anything: tea, coffee, water--anything; then tell

Thomas" (the butler).

But the Master wanted nothing except to wait to see Dr Grant (who

was being detained in the church) and He filled me with

indescribable joy by inviting me to wait with Him, sitting beside

Him.

I sat there, happier it seemed to me than I had ever been in my

life. I was in the Presence of my Lord, and the one I loved best

in all this human world had at last recognized Him. For what else

had that exquisite service meant, with the Resurrection stressed

all through it? Such a bold acknowledgement, such a daring action

in the very church itself could not have been insincere. It never

occurred to me to doubt it.

But time passed and Percy did not come back. A great crowd arrived

before he did. Someone, using the private way from the church, had

left the door open and the people began to surge in. And then

(while my heart sank with disappointment) the Master made a swift

exit.

Too late Mrs Grant, Percy's dear mother, entered the room. It was

a dramatic entrance. She ran in, distractedly, glancing from side

to side, obviously looking for the Master. Not seeing Him there,

she exclaimed: "If only I could have had His blessing! That Figure

makes me think of the plains of Judea."

At that very instant Mr Mills, who had gone out with

the Master, reappeared. "`Abdu'l-Bahá," he said, "is asking for Mrs

Grant."

I stood at the street door and watched. The Master was sitting in

Mr Mills' car, just in front of the house. I saw Mrs Grant approach

it, kneel in the street and bow her head. I saw Him place His hands

on her head.

A year ago I had a dream. I was in the People's Forum, stooping and

kissing Mrs Grant. She looked up through tears. "I have seen the

Master," she said in my dream. "He spoke to me. Oh there was never

such a Face in the world!"

Now, on the steps of the Rectory, as she returned from the car, she

looked up through tears.

"I got my blessing, Juliet," she said, "and I didn't have to ask

for it."

I went back to the church to thank Percy Grant and found him alone.

His last parishioner had just gone. For a moment we stood with

clasped hands.

"You made everything so beautiful. I can't find the right words to

thank you."
"My darling," he said, "my darling--"

Something in his look--something false--woke me. Sick at heart, I

turned away.[97]

That night how I hungered to see the Master. My heart burned to see

Him. I went to the telephone. Ah, these days when just by a

telephone call we can reach Him! One of the Persians answered my

call.

"Is the Master well tonight? Is He resting?" I asked.

"He is in His room, reading Tablets."
__________

The next morning, through Ahmad, the Master telephoned me. He

wanted to know how I was.

"Tell Him my heart is burning for Him just as it used to in Haifa."

"The Master says: come at once to Him."

And scarcely was I seated in His room when He began to speak of

Percy Grant. He spoke with great love, with great appreciation of

the service Percy had rendered, but told me to be very careful in

my relations with him.

"You must keep your acquaintance, Juliet, absolutely formal."

Then He gave me this message: "Convey to Dr Grant My greetings.

Say: I will not forget the services thou hast rendered yesterday.

They are engraved on the book of My heart. I will mention thy name

everywhere. And know thou this: This matter of yesterday will

become most wonderful in the history of the world. The world of

existence will not forget yesterday. Thousands of years hence the

mention of yesterday will be heard and it will become history that

you were the founder of this work.

"I ask of God for you all those things I have asked for Myself and

they are: that thou mayest become a sincere servant of God and

serve in the Kingdom of God and become sanctified and holy; that

thou mayest find a pure and enlightened heart, an illumined face;

become the cause that the lights of spiritual morals may illumine

the hearts in this country and that they may be illumined in the

world of the Kingdom; become the promoter of Truth and deliver the

souls from ignorance and prejudice. I supplicate to the Kingdom of

God for you, and I will never forget the love that was manifested

yesterday.

"I hope," said the Master, turning to me, "that he will become a

believer, but I do not know. The rectorship of that church is in

the way. If he could give it up of his own volition, then he might

become a believer."

He spoke of my dear mother: "Convey to thy mother the greetings of

Abha. Say to her: Always remember My advices. It is my hope that

thou mayest forget everything save God. Nothing in this world is

sufficient for man. God alone is sufficient for him. God is the

Protector of man. All the world will not protect the soul."

I sent Percy Grant the message and later he telephoned me.

"That was a wonderful, wonderful message," he said, his voice

strangely upset.
__________

Early Sunday evening, the fourteenth, the Master spoke at the

Carnegie Lyceum for the Union Meeting of Advanced Thought

Centres.[98] I can give you no idea of His Glory that night. He was

like a pillar of white fire.

I sat in a box with Bolton Hall, one of our fashionable

intellectuals, a lean, elegant person with an Emersonian face.

Turning to him for a moment, I asked: "What do you see?"

"Nothing, dear child, nothing."
16 April 1912

This morning the Master agreed to speak at the Bowery Mission.

"I want to give them some money," He said to me. "I am in love with

the poor. How many poor men go to the Mission?"
"About three hundred, my Lord."

"Take this bill to the bank, Juliet, and change it into quarters,"

and He drew from His pocket a thousand-

franc note.[99] "Have them put the quarters in a bag. Keep the

money and meet Me at the Mission with it."

He handed another thousand-franc note, with the same instructions,

to Edward Getsinger.

As I left His room, lilies of valley in my hand, a young

chambermaid stopped me. "Did He give you those?" she asked. "He

gave me some flowers yesterday. Roses. I think He is a great

Saint."
__________

Later, May Maxwell and I were together in the Master's room. He was

lying back on His pillow, May's Báby crawling over Him, feeding

first The Báby, then May and me with chocolates.[100] On the pillow

beside Him was the victor's wreath, which He always kept near Him.

Suddenly He brought up Percy's name.

"I love Dr Grant," he began. "He has rendered Me a great service.

I love him very much, but I want you to be careful."

"My Lord, I believe my heart is severed," I said. "I don't know but

I believe so."

He looked at me with arch incredulity: "No? Really?" He said.

May laughed.
"What do you know about it?" the Master asked.
"May knows everything about it."

"Well, has she helped you? How far has her help gone? Has it been

sufficient for you?"

"She has helped me, but only God is sufficient when love has gone

as deep as that."
"I know. Now, can you transfer this love to God?"

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá walking down Riverside Drive in New

York, 1912]
"To God I can. To You."
"No. To God."
"Yes ... I can ... to God."

"That will be enough! I shall try to make no more marriages,"

laughed the Master. "When you have really given up," He added, "he

will come after you."[101]

"I love Dr Grant," He continued, "very, very much, but I want to

protect you."

"May I ask a question?" said May. "If Juliet put the thought of Dr

Grant forever out of her mind, would this be good?"

But the Master answered evasively: "If he would become a believer

and marry Juliet it would please Me very much."

"Don't we tire You?" I asked a little later. "Oughtn't we to leave

You now?"

"No, stay. You rest Me. You make Me laugh!" He answered.

18 April 1912

I asked Mrs Wright if she would invite Percy to hear the Master

speak at the Bowery Mission. His reply has just come through her.

He said: "Give Juliet my love and my excuses. Tell her I prefer to

be remembered by Him in the Church of the Ascension. Tell her this

and she will understand."
__________

Before writing of the Master's visit to the Bowery I must explain

how it came about. In February this year

Dr Hallimond asked me for the third time to give the Bahá'í Message

at the Mission. I had refused twice before because my dear mother

wouldn't allow me to go there. But this third invitation I felt I

must accept. So, for the first time in my life, I deceived Mamma!

Silvia Gannett helped me out. (By the way her marriage has been

postponed.) She invited me to dine, then went to the Mission with

me. The only thing Mamma knew was that I was dining with Silvia.

The weather that night was terrible: snowing, sleeting, bitterly

cold. The Mission was packed with homeless men, some of whom had

been driven in by the cold and the storm and were there for no

other reason. Among these, I learned afterward, was John Good--may

he ever be blessed! Wonderfully named was John Good! He had been

released from Sing Sing that very day: an enormous man with a head

like a lion and a great shock of white hair. From his boyhood he

had spent his life in one prison or another and now, in his old

age, had behaved so rebelliously in Sing Sing that they would

punish him in the most painful way, hanging him up by his thumbs!

Full of hate he had come out of prison, and full of hate and

without one grain of belief in anything, he sat among the derelicts

in the Mission, forced in by the storm.

And that night (knowing nothing of John Good) I was moved to tell

the men how `Abdu'l-Bahá came out of prison, full of love for the

whole world, even His cruellest enemies.

After I had finished speaking, Dr Hallimond said: "We have heard

from Juliet Thompson that `Abdu'l-Bahá will be here in April. How

may of you would like to invite Him to speak at the Mission? Will

those who wish it please stand?"
The whole three hundred rose to their feet.

"Now," added Dr Hallimond, taking me by surprise, "how many would

like to study the thirteenth Chapter of Corinthians with Miss

Thompson and myself?"

Thirty rose this time, including John Good and a poor alcoholic

named Hannegan, a long, lanky, red-haired Irishman.

"Then we will meet every Wednesday at eight p.m. and learn

something about this Love of which `Abdu'l-Bahá is our Great

Example."

And every Wednesday evening after that John Good and Hannegan came,

with the twenty-eight others.

Of course, in order to help Dr Hallimond on these nights, I had had

to confess to Mamma this first visit to the Bowery, and she was so

touched by the story that she gladly consented to my keeping up the

work, especially as Dr Hallimond always came for me and brought me

home.
__________

And now to return to the immediate present. Day before yesterday,

19 April, the Master spoke at the Bowery Mission.

I met Him in the chapel, dragging along with me the huge white bag

of quarters. Edward also appeared with a bag of the same size and

we sat behind the Master on the platform. Mr MacNutt, Mr Mills, Mr

Grundy, and Mr Hutchinson, and of course all the Persians, were

seated there too. The long hall was packed to the doors with those

poor derelicts who sleep on park benches or doorsteps.

Dr Hallimond called upon me to introduce my Lord, which seemed so

presumptuous I could scarcely do it.

Then the Master rose to speak. Here are His heavenly

words:[102] "Tonight I am very happy for I have come here to meet

My friends. I consider you my relatives, My companions, and I am

your comrade.

"You must be thankful to God that you are poor, for His Holiness

Jesus Christ has said: 'Blessed are the poor.' He never said:

blessed are the rich! He said too that the Kingdom is for the poor

and that it is easier for a camel to enter the needle's eye than

for a rich man to enter God's Kingdom. Therefore you must be

thankful to God that although in this world you are indigent, yet

the treasures of God are within your reach, and although in the

material realm you are poor, yet in the Kingdom of God you are

precious.

"His Holiness Jesus Himself was poor. He did not belong to the

rich. He passed His time in the desert travelling among the poor

and lived upon the herbs of the field. He had no place to lay His

head--no home. He was exposed in the open to heat, cold, and frost.

Yet He chose this rather than riches. If riches were considered a

glory, the Prophet Moses would have chosen them; Jesus would have

been rich.

"When Jesus appeared it was the poor who first accepted Him, not

the rich. Therefore, you are His disciples, you are His comrades,

for outwardly He was poor, not rich.

"Even this earth's happiness does not depend upon wealth. You will

find many of the wealthy exposed to dangers and troubled by

difficulties, and in their last moments upon the bed of death,

there remains the regret that they must be separated from that to

which their

hearts are so attached. They come into this world naked and they

must go from it naked. All they possess they must leave behind and

pass away solitary, alone. Often at the time of death their souls

are filled with remorse and, worst of all, their hope in the mercy

of God is less than ours.

"Praise be to God, our hope is in the mercy of God; and there is

no doubt that the divine Compassion is bestowed upon the poor. His

Holines Jesus Christ said so; His Holiness Bahá'u'lláh said so.

"While Bahá'u'lláh was in Baghdad, still in possession of great

wealth, He left all He had and went alone from the city, living two

years among the poor. They were His comrades. He ate with them,

slept with them, and gloried in being one of them. He chose for one

of His names the title of 'The Poor One' and often in His Writings

refers to Himself as 'Darvish,' which in Persian means poor. And

of this title he was very proud. He admonished all that we must be

the servants of the poor, helpers of the poor, remember the sorrows

of the poor, associate with them, for thereby we may inherit the

Kingdom of Heaven.

"God has not said that there are mansions prepared for us if we

pass our time associating with the rich, but He has said there are

many mansions prepared for the servants of the poor, for the poor

are very dear to God. The mercies and bounties of God are with

them. The rich are mostly negligent, inattentive, steeped in

worldliness, depending upon their means, whereas the poor are

dependent upon God and their reliance is upon Him, not upon

themselves. Therefore the poor are nearer the Threshold of God and

His Throne.

"Jesus was a poor man. One night when He was out in the fields the

rain began to fall. He had no place to go for shelter, so He lifted

His eyes toward Heaven, saying: 'O Father! For the birds of the air

Thou hast created nests, for the sheep a fold, for the animals

dens, for the fishes places of refuge, but for Me Thou hast

provided no shelter; there is no place where I may lay My head. My

bed is the cold ground, My lamps at night are the stars and My food

is the grass of the field. Yet who upon earth is richer than I? For

the greatest blessing Thou hast not given to the rich and mighty,

but unto Me Thou hast given the poor. To Me Thou hast granted this

blessing. They are Mine. Therefore I am the richest man on earth.'

"So, My comrades, you are following in the footsteps of Jesus

Christ. Your lives are similar to His life, your attitude is like

unto His, you resemble Him more than the rich resemble Him.

Therefore we will thank God that we have been blest with the real

riches. And, in conclusion, I ask you to accept `Abdu'l-Bahá as

your Servant."

After the service, the Master and we who were with Him walked down

the aisle to the door, while the men in the audience kept their

seats. At the end of the aisle the Master paused, called to Edward

and me and asked us to stand on each side of Him, with our bags.

He was wearing His pongee 'aba and was very shining in white and

ivory, His Face like a lighted lamp.

Then down the aisle streamed a sodden and grimy procession: three

hundred men in single file. The "breadline". The failures. Broken

forms. Blurred faces. How can I picture such a scene? That forlorn

host out of the depths, out of the "mud and scum of things"--where

nevertheless "something always, always sings". And the

Eternal Christ, reflected in the Mirror of "The Servant", receiving

them all, like prodigal sons? stray sheep? No! Like His own beloved

children, who "resembled Him more than the rich resembled Him."

Into each palm, as the Master clasped it, He pressed His little

gift of silver: just a symbol and the price of a bed. Not a man was

shelterless that night. And many, many, I could see, found a

shelter in His Heart. I could see it in the faces raised to His and

in His Face bent to theirs.

Those interchanged looks--what a bounty to have witnessed them--to

have such a picture stamped on my mind forever!

As the men filed toward Him, the Master held out His hand to the

first, grasped the man's hand and left something in it. Perhaps

five or six quarters, for John Good told me afterward that the

completely destitute ones received the most. The man glanced up

surprised. His eyes met the Master's look, which seemed to be

plunging deep into his heart with fathomless understanding. He,

this poor derelict, must have known very little of even human love

or understanding; and now, too suddenly, he stood face to face with

Divine Love. He looked startled, incredulous--as though he couldn't

believe what he saw; then his eyes strained toward the Master,

something new burning in them, and the Master's eyes answered with

a great flash, revealing a more mysterious, a profounder love. A

drowning man rescued, or--taken up into heaven? I saw this repeated

scores of times. Some of the men shuffled past, accepting their

gift ungraciously, but most of them responded just as the first

did.

Who can tell the effect of those immortal glances on

the lives and even, perhaps, at the death of each of these men? Who

knows what the Master gave that night?
__________

(Footnote. Months later John Good told me about Hannegan. Hannegan

was a generous man. If he had a dime and somebody needed a nickel,

he would split his dime. But, there was no doubt about it, he was

also a Bowery tough and pretty nearly always drunk. He had been

counting the days to the nineteenth of April but, unluckily lost

count, and when the nineteenth came and with it the Master's visit

to the Bowery, he was in one of his stupors. Waking up from it, he

really sorrowed. Still, there was another chance. The Master was

to speak in Flatbush the following Sunday and somehow Hannegan

heard of this. Flatbush is a long way off and that Sunday he hadn't

even a nickel. So he walked. At midnight John Good went to his room

and found him in the usual state. "Why did you do it this time,

Hannegan--and you straight from seeing the Master?" asked John.

"That's just it," said Hannegan earnestly. "I'm straight from

seeing Him. Why, John, He's Perfection. The Light of the world, He

is, John. It's too much for a man, too discouraging."

John never told me this till after the death of Hanegan, or I would

have taken him to the Master. But, after all, he--this Bowery

tough--had seen the Reality.)
__________

That night the Master had a supper for all who had been with Him

at the Mission. It was held in His suite at the Ansonia and He took

me and two of the Persians, Valiyu'llah Khan and Ahmad, in His own

taxi to the hotel.

As we drove up Broadway, glittering with its electric

signs, He spoke of them smiling, apparently much amused. Then He

told us that Bahá'u'lláh had loved light. "He could never get

enough light. He taught us," the Master said, "to economize in

everything else but to use light freely."

"It is marvellous," I said, "to be driving through all this light

by the side of the Light of lights."

"This is nothing," the Master answered. "This is only the

beginning. We will be together in all the worlds of God. You cannot

realize here what that means. You cannot imagine it. You can form

no conception here in this elemental world of what it is to be with

Me in the Eternal Worlds."

"Oh," I cried, "with such a future before me how could my heart

cling to any earthly object?"

The Master turned suddenly to me. "Will you do this thing?" He

asked. "Will you take your heart from this other and give it wholly

to God?"
"Oh, I will try!"

He laughed heartily at this. "First you say you will and then that

you will try!"

"That is because I have learned my own weakness. What can I do with

my heart?"

And now the Master spoke gravely. "I am very much pleased with that

answer, Juliet."
__________

That night I saw, as never before, the Glory of `Abdu'l-Bahá.

Nine of us were gathered at His table. He sat at the head, Mr Mills

on His left, I on His right. Just above Him hung a big round lamp,

so that He sat in a pool of strong light while the rest of us were

in shadow. In His

ivory-coloured 'aba over the long white robe, His white hair spread

out upon His shoulders, He was like some massive statue of a deity

carved in alabaster.

For a while He was silent and we surrounded Him, silent. But after

He had served the food He began to speak. He told us of the play

The Terrible Meek which he had seen that afternoon. It is based on

the Crucifixion.

"But such a representation should be complete," He said, and taken

from its inception to its consummation. It should be an

impersonation of the life of Jesus from the beginning to the end.

"For example: His baptism. The disciples of John the Baptist

turning to Him, Jesus. The dawn of Christianity. Then the Christ

in the Temple, well portrayed. The meeting of Jesus and Peter on

the shore of Tiberias, where Jesus called Peter to follow Him that

he might become a fisher of men. The gathering together of the

Jews. Their accusations against Jesus. For they said: 'We are

expecting certain conditions at the time of the appearance of the

Messiah and unless these conditions are fulfilled it is impossible

to believe. It is written that He will come from an unknown place.

Thou are from Nazareth. We know Thee and Thy people. According to

the explicit text of the Scriptures, the Messiah is to wield a

sceptre, a sword. Thou hast not even a staff. The Messiah is to be

established on the throne of David. But Thou--a throne! Thou hast

not so much as a mat. The Messiah is to fulfil the Law of Moses,

which will be spread throughout the world. Thou hast broken the

Mosaic Law. The Jews, in the time of the Messiah, are to be the

conquerors of the world and all men will become their subjects. In

the Cycle of the Messiah justice is to

reign. It will be exercised even in the animal kingdom, so that

wolf and lamb will quaff water at the same fountain, eagle and

quail will dwell in the same nest, lion and deer pasture in the

same meadow. But see the oppression and wrong rampant in Thy time!

The Jews are the captives of the Romans. Rome has uprooted our

foundations, pillaging and killing us. What manner of justice is

this?'

"But His Holiness Jesus answered: 'These texts are symbolic. They

have an inner meaning. I possess sovereignty, but it is of the

eternal type. It is not an earthy empire. Mine is divine, heavenly,

everlasting. And I conquer not by the sword. My conquests are by

Love. I have a sword, but it is not of iron. My sword is My tongue,

which divides Truth from falsehood.'

"Yet they persisted in rejecting Him. 'These are mere

interpretations,' they said. 'We will not give up the letter for

these.'

"Then they rose against Him, accusing and persecuting Him,

inventing libels according to their superstitions.

"'He is a liar. He is the false Christ. Believe Him not. Beware

lest ye listen. He will mislead you, will lure you from the

religion of your fathers, and will create a turmoil amongst you.'

"Then the scribes and Pharisees consult together: 'Let us hold a

conclave and conceive a plan. This man is a deceiver. We must do

something. What?'" (The Master gaily mimicked their confusion.)

"'Let us expel Him from the country. Let us imprison Him. Ah! Let

us refer the matter to the government. Thus the religion of Moses

shall be free of Him.'

"After this, the betrayal of Jesus, not by an enemy, not by an

outsider, but by one of His own disciples. Dr

Farid! (I was startled by the sudden, peremptory call of that

name.) "By one of His own disciples. Had you been there, Dr Farid.

Had you been there, you would have seen that Mary of Magdala even

looked like Juliet."[103]

"Then," continued the Master, "the government will summon Jesus,

will bring Him before Pontius Pilate, and these scenes should be

fully portrayed ..."

Here I ceased to take notes. I was stabbed to the heart. As He

flashed each scene to us with His vivid words and gestures I felt

that He was reliving it. When He came to that walk to Golgotha:

Jesus, the Saviour, stumbling beneath the weight of His Cross while

the mob capered about, bowing backward, mocking "the King of the

Jews," I knew He was telling us of remembered anguish.

"And when all this is finished," He said, "then the Terrible Meek

will be expressed."

The last scene centred around the disciples, united now and ablaze

with the Pentecostal fire. The Master described them surrounded by

multitudes, teaching with those "tongues of fire" that His Holiness

Jesus had verily been a King--the King of spirits, His sword the

Word of God and His reign in the hearts of men.

When the Master had ended we sat so silent that the falling of a

rose leaf might have been heard. He broke the silence.

"The voice of Mary lamenting at the Cross today made me think of

your voice, Juliet--and Lua's." And then He smiled at me. "Eat,

Juliet," He said. For the food on my plate was untouched.

__________

In the upper hall, on our way to the Master's suite, we had met the

little chambermaid who had told me the day

before that she thought Him a great Saint. In my bag were about

eighty quarters left over from the Mission. The Master asked the

girl to hold up her apron, took the bag from me, and emptied the

whole of its contents into the apron. Then He walked quickly toward

His suite, we following, all but Mr Grundy whom the maid stopped.

"Oh see what He has given me!" she said. And when Mr Grundy told

her about the Mission and the Master's kindness to the men there,

"I will do the same with this money. I will give away every cent

of it."

Later, when the table was cleared and we were sitting with the

Master in another room, talking of the scene at the Mission,

someone asked Him if "charity were advisable."

He laughed and, still laughing, said: "Assuredly, give to the poor.

If you give them only words, when they put their hands into their

pockets after you have gone, they will find themselves none the

richer for you!"

And just at that moment we heard a light tap at the door. It opened

and there stood the little maid. She came straight towards the

Master, seeming not to see anyone else, and her eyes were full of

tears.

"I wanted to say goodbye, Sir," she said (for the Master was

leaving for Washington early the next morning), "and to thank You

for all Your goodness to me--I never expected such goodness--and

to ask You ... to pray for me." Her voice broke. She sobbed, hid

her face in her apron and rushed from the room.

What an illustration to the Master's words, "assuredly give to the

poor," and how wonderfully timed!
22 April 1912

Oh, those mornings at the Ansonia in the Master's white sunny

rooms, filled with spring flowers and roses!

People poured in to see Him in droves, sometimes a hundred and

fifty in one morning. He would become exhausted and receive the

latest arrivals in bed. Sitting in the outer room (though

frequently called to Him), I would watch them go into His bedroom

and come out changed, as though they had had a bath of Life, or

like candles that had been lighted in that inner chamber.

Leonard Abbott came out with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. "That

beautiful head against the pillows!" he said.

Charles Rand Kennedy, the playwright (author of The Terrible Meek)

said: "I was in the Presence of God."

I, myself, took Nancy Sholl in. When we left, she whispered to me:

"I could not have stood the vibrations in there one moment longer.

Power encircles that bed!"
__________

Alas, New York has now lost the great overhanging aura of the

Master. He is in Washington. But I am going there too, tomorrow,

to stay with my dear Mrs Elkins.
Washington
7 May 1912

Washington was beautiful, the banners of the spring floating out

everywhere. Trees along the street in full leaf. Flowering bushes

and tulip beds in the parks and in the grass plots in front of

houses. The Japanese cherry

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá in New York with His entourage, 1912]

trees behind the White House, a long row of coral-pink clouds.

The day I arrived, 23 April, I met the Master at luncheon at the

Persian Embassy, where Khan is now acting as minister.[104] The

table was strewn with rose petals, as the Master's table always is

in 'Akka, and Persian dishes were served.

A coloured man, Louis Gregory, was present and the Master gave a

wonderful talk on race prejudice which, however, I will not quote

here since it has been kept.[105] And besides, I am longing to

catch up with these days, when I am feeling with all my capacity

for feeling, when the gates of my heart are flung wide open and

fire sweeping through, burning up my heart, when I am seeing

through tears the Manifest Glory of the Beloved. I really don't

want to write about Washington. This heart was not awakened then.

But He said a lovely thing at Khan's table which I must keep. Mrs

Parsons was at the luncheon. Before she became a Bahá'í she had

been a Christian Scientist, and now she brought up the question of

mental suggestion as a cure for physical disease. The Master

replied that some illnesses, such as consumption and insanity,

developed from spiritual causes--grief, for example--and that these

could be healed by the spirit. But Mrs Parsons persisted. Could not

extreme physical cases, like broken bones, also be healed by the

spirit?

A large bowl of salad had been placed before the Mas-

ter, Who sat at the head of the table, Florence Khanum[106] on His

right.

"If all the spirits in the air," He laughed, "were to congregate

together, they could not create a salad! Nevertheless, the spirit

of man is powerful. For the spirit of man can soar in the firmament

of knowledge, can discover realities, can confer life, can receive

the Divine Glad-Tidings. Is not this greater," and He laughed

again, "than making a salad?"

One more lovely thing. The servants were late bringing in the

dessert and Florence apologized; whereupon little Rahim, standing

beside her, spoke up.

"Even the King of Persia has to wait, doesn't He, mother?"

"Rahim dear," explained Florence, `Abdu'l-Bahá is King of the whole

world."
"Oh," said Rahim, very much abashed, "I forgot."
__________

After the luncheon, Florence and Khan held a large reception, to

which a number of very distinguished people came, among them Diya

Pasha, the Turkish Minister, and his whole family, Duke Lita and

his wife, Admiral Peary, and Alexander Graham Bell.

Between the end of lunch and this reception the Master went

upstairs to rest and to give a few private interviews. When He

reappeared among us, the two living rooms were already crowded. He

walked quickly to the open folding doors and standing there at the

centre, with a strikingly free and simple bearing, immediately

began to speak. His words too were simple and of a captivating

sweetness, a startling clarity.

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá with the children of 'Ali Quli Khan]

Diya Pasha stood next to me, his eyes riveted on the Master. When

the Master had finished speaking, the old diplomat (who is a fierce

Muslim) turned to me. "This is irrefutable. This is pure logic,"

he said.

A few months before, at the request of his daughter-in-law, an

American girl and a dear friend of mine, I had given Diya Pasha the

Message. I had had to give it in French, as he doesn't understand

English, and, my French being rusty by now, I'm afraid I didn't do

it very well: he looked so sceptical, almost contemptuous the whole

time I was speaking. But when I said that through the Baha'i

Teaching I had become a Muslim, and convinced him of this by the

reverent way I spoke of Muhammad, I really touched Diya Pasha. He

rose from the table, where we were at lunch, left the room, and

returned with a precious and very old volume of the Quran on

illuminated parchment and with a hand-tooled cover. "No Christian

eye but yours," he said, "has ever looked upon this."

__________

To return to the Persian Embassy. A delicious thing happened when

the Master greeted Peary, who has just succeeded in publicly

disgracing Captain Cook and proving himself, and not Captain Cook,

the discoverer of the North Pole. At that moment, in the Embassy,

he looked like a blown-up balloon.

I was standing beside the Master when Khan brought the Admiral over

and introduced him.

The Master spoke charmingly to him and congratulated him on his

discovery. Then, with the utmost sweetness, added these surprising

words: For a very long time the world had been much concerned about

the North Pole, where it was and what was to be found

there. Now he, Admiral Peary, had discovered it and that nothing

was to found there; and so, in forever relieving the public mind,

he had rendered a great service.

I shall never forget Peary's nonplussed face. The balloon

collapsed!
__________

Immediately after the Khan's reception, Mrs Parsons too had a large

one for the Master, to which Diya Pasha came with Him. I saw them,

to my great delight, enter the hall together hand in hand.

Mrs Parsons house has real distinction. It is Georgian in style and

in it has a very long white ballroom with, at one end, an unusually

high mantel--the mantel, as well as the ceiling and panelled walls,

delicately carved with garlands. At the windows hang thin silk

curtains the colour of jonquil leaves.

Here, after this first reception, the Master spoke daily in the

afternoon and the whole fashionable world flocked to hear Him.

Scientists too, and even politicians came!

In front of the mantel, a platform had been placed for the Master

and every day it was banked with fresh roses, American Beauties.

Into this room of conventional elegance, packed with conventional

people, imagine the Master striding with His free step: walking

first to one of the many windows and, while He looked out into the

light, talking with His matchless ease to the people. Turning from

the window, striding back and forth with a step so vibrant it shook

you. Piercing our souls with those strange eyes, uplifting them,

glory streaming upon them. Talking, talking, moving to and fro

incessantly. Pushing back His turban, revealing that Christ-like

forehead; pushing it forward again almost down to His eyebrows,

which gave Him a

peculiar majesty. Charging, filling the room with magnetic

currents, with a mysterious energy. Once He burst in, a child on

His shoulder. For a moment He held her, caressing her. Then He sat

her down among the roses.
__________

On Thursday, 25 April, the Master dined at the Turkish Embassy and

I was privileged to be there.

Never have I seen such a beautiful table. Hundreds of roses lay the

whole length of it, piled, melting into each other, sweeping up

from the head and the foot of the table to a great mound in the

centre, where the Master sat, faced by Diya Pasha. Florence Khanum

and Carey, Madame Diya Bey (Diya Pasha's daughter-in-law), the

American wives of Oriental diplomats, were placed on either side

of the Master and I sat next to Carey.

There are times when the Master looks colossal, when His Holiness

shines like the sun. That night He wore the usual white, with a

honey-coloured 'aba. Diya Pasha, opposite Him, watched Him with

eyes full of tears, his keen old hawk's face strangely softened.

The Master gave a great address on the civilizations built on the

basic Teachings of the Prophets; then He spoke of this dinner as

"a wonderful occasion". "The East and the West," He said, "are met

in perfect love tonight." There was something so poignant in His

words, so flame-creating, that for a moment I was overcome.

Later He spoke of the deep significance of the international

marriages represented there: Diya Bey's and Carey's, 'Ali-Quli

Khan's and Florence's. Carey made me very happy by saying: "Juliet

told me long ago of Your Teachings, when I was only fifteen years

old." What fruit that seed had borne, sown in a child!

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá with the Persian Consul-general for New

York and his household, Morristown, New Jersey.]

Diya Pasha made a thrilling speech. Rising and turning a lover's

face to the Master, he called Him "the Light of the world, the

Unique One of the age, Who had come to spread His glory and

perfection amongst us."

"I am not worthy of this," said the Master, very simply. Always a

great power is released from the Master's divine humility.

As I bade Diya Pasha goodnight, looking at me through a mist of

tears, he said: "Truly, He is a Saint."
__________

One day Mrs Elkins invited the Master to drive with us and we went

to the Soldiers' Home. The Elkinses, because of Katharine's

engagement to the Duke of the Abruzzi, have been terribly hounded

by the newspapers, but this happened before the Master came. He

couldn't have known about it through any outward means. Yet no

sooner were we seated in the car than He said to Mrs Elkins: "How

the newspapers here persecute one!"

It was such a sympathetic subject! At once Mrs Elkins opened her

heart.

"Come away!" smiled the Master. "Elude these journalists! Come to

Haifa where there is peace. Juliet will tell you there is peace in

Haifa."

Then He spoke of how much I loved her and of her philanthropic

deeds, which He prayed might increase. He captured her hand and

kept it in His, while she hastily hid the sweet gesture under her

cape.

"Nothing endures, Mrs Elkins," He said. "Nothing but the Love of

God endures. Look at these trees in full blossom now." And in words

which I will not try to repeat He described the turning of the

seasons: the trees in summer flourishing green leaves; the

inevitable autumn with the leaves lying, yellow, on the ground.

"This," He said, "is a symbol of human life."

"Remember Bábylon." He drew a vivid picture of ancient Bábylon, its

towers, its stupendous art; then of Bábylon today: a waste of

rubble, "the hyena prowling among its crumbled stones." No other

sign of life but the "voice of the owl by night" or "a lark singing

at daybreak." "Remember Tyre. Here too was beauty and splendour and

pomp. Think of Tyre now. I have been there. I have seen."

He spoke of my mother that day: "Juliet's mother is very good. Her

heart is very pure. As soon as we met, her face became radiant."

When we reached home, Mrs Elkins said to me: "You can't hide a

thing from Him. He sees everything that is in your heart."

The day Mrs Elkins first met the Master she mentioned her husband,

the senator,[107] who died about a year ago. "I wish he were here

now," she said, "to meet You."

"Insha'llah," replied the Master, "for his good deeds I shall meet

him in the Kingdom of God."

One of the senator's good deeds had been to protect the Bahá'ís in

'Akka and Haifa while the Master was being tried for His life in

1907.
__________

I was so thankful to be in Washington. At those daily meetings in

Mrs Parsons' house I would see many of my old friends, friends of

my childhood. Mrs Elkins went with me every day to the meetings:

sometimes, when all the chairs were taken, standing the whole

afternoon, although she was far from well.

One day, however, she was not with me. That night she was giving

a small diner and an opera party and she

had to rest for this. So, being free for an hour or so, I decided

to stay at Mrs Parsons' and have a little visit with Edna.

While Edna and I were talking, the Master suddenly entered the

room. "I am going out for a drive," He said, "but wait till I

return, Edna, and you too, Juliet, wait. I will see you in a short

time."

So I waited--waited and waited. Half-past six came. Seven. We were

to dine at half-past seven and the Elkinses' house was a long way

off, rather indirect on the car-line.
"Go, Juliet," urged Edna. "I will explain."
But how could I? My Lord had told me to stay.

And now I shall have to digress and tell what may seem, just at

first, another story: When I was ten years old, (and I remember the

time because that year we were living with my grandmother) a very

presumptuous idea took possession of me. I began to dream of some

day painting the Christ. I even prayed that I might. "O God," I

would pray, "You know Christ didn't look like a woman, the way all

the pictures of Him look. Please let me paint Him when I grow up

as the King of Men." And I never lost hope of this till I saw the

Master. Then I knew that no one could paint the Christ. Could the

sun with the whole universe full of its radiations, or endless

flashes of lightning be captured in paint?

Imagine my surprise and dismay, fear, joy and gratitude all mixed

together, at the news given me by Mrs Gibbons when the Master first

came to New York. The night before He landed she had received a

Tablet in which He said: "On My arrival in America Miss Juliet

Thompson shall paint a wonderful portrait of Me." This was in

response to a supplication from Mrs Gibbons

asking that her daughter might paint Him, which she never did,

though the Master graciously gave her permission, even more

graciously adding those words about me.

It was a little after seven when the Master came back from His

drive. Entering the room in which He had left me and where of

course I was still waiting, He said: "Ah, Juliet! For your sake I

returned. Mrs Hemmick[108] wanted to keep Me, but I had asked you

to wait; therefore I returned." After a pause He added: "Would you

like to come up and paint Me tomorrow?"

So I learned the reward of obedience. Such a reward for so small

an act of obedience! Once in Haifa He said to me: "Keep My words,

obey My commands and you will marvel at the results."

And, by a miracle, I wasn't late for dinner! The dinner, because

of another guest, had been postponed a half hour.

The next morning I went very early to Mrs Parsons' house, taking

my box of pastels; but though it was only eight o'clock, quite a

crowd had already gathered and I felt that the morning was doomed

to be a broken one. Not only that, but the light in the rooms

upstairs, where I was supposed to paint, is very weak, and the

delicate wallpaper, with tiny bunches of flowers all over it, I

couldn't use as a background for His head. For a while I was in

despair, for I dared not make the suggestion I had in mind. But in

the end I did. Begging Him to forgive me if I were doing something

wrong, I asked if He would pose in New York instead. To this he

consented so freely and sweetly that I had no more qualms about it.

The following day I went to Mrs Parsons' to meet Lee McClung, the

Treasurer of the United States. Lee McClung had been one of the

idols of my early adolescence. He had seemed quite old to me then,

though now he is only thirty-eight. When I saw him again last

winter for the first time in about ten years, he had made all sorts

of fun of me for my "conversion to Bahá'ísm". "It made me laugh out

of one eye and cry out of the other," he said. "What does your

mother think about it? Have you converted her?"

But at Mrs Parsons' first meeting, to my great surprise, there he

was in the audience! I couldn't wait to speak to him or to present

him to the Master as Mrs Elkins was in a hurry that day, but in the

evening he dined with us.

"How did you feel when you saw the Master?" I asked him.

A shy look came into his face, and Mr McClung is anything but shy.

"Well, I felt as though I were in the presence of one of the great

old Prophets: Elijah, Isaiah, Moses. No, it was more than that!

Christ ... no, now I have it. He seemed to me my Divine Father."

Then he said he must leave us a little early, as he was going to

Mr Bell's--Alexander Graham Bell's--to meet `Abdu'l-Bahá there.

Later I was told that the Master had made an address at Mr Bell's;

then others were called on to speak. But when Lee McClung was

called on he said: "After `Abdu'l-Bahá has spoken, I cannot."

At Mr McClung's request, I had made an appointment for him with the

Master for a private interview and this was the reason I was here

to meet him at Mrs Parsons'. I arrived a little ahead of time and

while I was

waiting for Mr McClung, a door in the hall opened and there stood

the Master, beckoning to me. He was alone, so we had to fall back

on His English and my scant Persian.

"How is your mother?" He asked first. "How old is she?"

But I couldn't tell Him, Mamma having always concealed her age till

I think even she doesn't know it now.
"About fifty?"
"I think so."
"How old are you?"
I confessed my age.

"In My eyes you are fifteen," He replied, so sweetly.

"In our eyes I am an infant?"
"Yes. Báby!"
Then the translator arrived.

"Tell Juliet," the Master began at once, "that she teaches well.

I have met many people who have been affected by you, Juliet. You

are not eloquent, you are not fluent, but your heart teaches. You

speak with a feeling, an emotion which makes people ask: 'What is

this she has?' Then they inquire; they seek and find. It is so too

with Lua. You never find Lua speaking with dry eyes! You will be

confirmed. A great bounty will descend upon you. You will become

eloquent. Your tongue will be loosed. Teach, always teach. The

confirmations of the Holy Spirit descend upon those who teach

constantly. Never feel fear. The Holy Spirit will give you the

words to say. Never fear You will grow stronger and stronger."

That erect head, that hand held high in command, the Power that

eddied from Him as He spoke those words, how can I ever feel fear

again when I have to mount the dreaded platform?

It was later that He said to me: "You have many friends. You have

no enemies. Everybody is your friend. Do not think I am ignorant

of conditions in New York. Both factions are pleased with you,

Juliet, and have nothing but good to say of you, although they

complain of others. Miss X is pleased with you! Mrs XX is pleased

with you!" (laughing as He mentioned the two chief disturbers of

the peace). "And you have accomplished this only through your

sincerity. Others may do this through diplomatic action, but you

have done it with your heart."
__________

(Footnote. I am destroying my diary in longhand and I can't bear

to lose any of the Master's words to me, those dear words of

encouragement. That is why I keep them.)
__________

Just then Lee McClung arrived and the Master took him

upstairs.[109]
__________
New York
11 May 1912

On Saturday, 11 May, just one month from the day of His landing,

the Master returned to New York from Washington, Cleveland, and

Chicago.

A few of us gathered in His rooms to prepare them for Him and fill

them with flowers; then to wait for His arrival: May Maxwell, Lua

Getsinger, Carrie Kinney, Kate Ives, Grace Robarts, and I. Mr Mills

and Mr Woodcock were waiting too.

The Master has a new home, in the Hudson Apartment House,[110]

overlooking the river. His flat is on one of the top stories, so

that its windows frame the sky. Now the windows were all open and

a fresh breeze blew in.

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá with children and Persian entourage.]

About five o'clock He came. Oh the coming of that Presence! If only

I could convey to the future the mighty commotion of it! The hearts

almost suffocate with joy, the eyes burn with tears at the stir of

that step! It is futile to try to express it. Sometimes when the

sun breaks through clouds and spreads a great fiery glow, I get

something of that feeling.

After greeting us all the Master took a seat by the window and

began to talk to us, with supreme love and gladness, wittily,

tenderly, eloquently, carrying us up as if on wings to the apex of

sublime feeling, so that we wept; then turning our tears to sudden

little ripples of laughter as an unexpected gleam of wit flashed

out; then melting our hearts with His yearning affection.

He had been horrified in Washington by the prejudice against the

Negroes. "What does it matter," He asked, "if the skin of a man is

black, white, yellow, pink, or green? In this respect the animals

show more intelligence than man. Black sheep and white sheep, white

doves and blue do not quarrel because of difference of colour."

Lua, May, and I, for the first time together in the Glory of His

Presence, sat on the floor in a corner, gazing through tears at Him

and whenever we could wrench our eyes from the sorrowful beauty of

His face, silhouetted against the sky, gazing at one another, still

through tears.

Day after day I was with Him there. Lua and I had permission to be

always with Him. I would go to His apartment in the early morning

and stay through the whole day and again and again He would call

me to His Presence.

"My Lord," I said once, "I really shouldn't take Your time. I don't

want to take Your time. I am only too

thankful to be here, serving at a distance, somewhere in Your

atmosphere."

"I know you are content with whatever I do, therefore I send for

you, Juliet," He replied.
13 May 1912

On the thirteenth of May (Percy Grant's birthday) a meeting of the

Peace Conference took place at the Hotel Astor. It was an enormous

meeting with thousands present. The Master was the Guest of Honour

and the first speaker, Dr Grant and Rabbi Wise the other speakers.

The Master sat at the centre on the high stage, Dr Grant on His

right, Rabbi Wise on His left. Oh, the symbolism of that: the

Jewish rabbi, the Christian clergyman, with the Centre of the

Covenant between, on the platform of the World Peace

Conference.[111]

The Master was really too ill to have gone to this Conference. He

had been in bed all morning, suffering from complete exhaustion,

and had a high temperature. I was with Him all morning. While I was

sitting beside Him I asked: "Must You go to the Hotel Astor when

You are so ill?"

"I work by the confirmations of the Holy Spirit," He answered. "I

do not work by hygienic laws. If I did," He laughed, "I would get

nothing done."

After that meeting, the wonderful record of which has been kept,

the Master shook hands with the whole audience, with every one of

those thousands of people!
14 May 1912

On Friday, the fourteenth of May, I had quite a distinguished

visitor, Khan Bahadur Allah-Bakhsh, the Governor of Lahore. Mr

Barakatu'llah had sent him to see me. I invited him to my meeting

that night and he

came and seemed to fall in love with the Teachings. The next

morning early he called on the Master at the Hudson Apartment

House. Lua, May, and I were there at the time and I told him that

May was one of my spiritual mothers and Lua my spiritual

grandmother. Whereupon the old gentleman said that in that case I

was his mother, May Maxwell his grandmother, and Lua his

great-grandmother!

Very soon the Master sent for him and kept him a long time in His

room. When the interview was over and Khan Bahadur Allah-Bakhsh had

left, the Master called me to Him.

"You teach well, Juliet," He said. "You teach with ecstasy. You

ignite the souls. A great bounty will descend upon you. I have

perfect confidence in you as a teacher. Your heart is pure,

absolutely pure."
My heart absolutely pure! I wept.

Then, for the second time, the Master gave me a picture of Himself.

Three days later I had a note from the Governor of Lahore. In it

he said: "`Abdu'l-Bahá is the Divine Light of today."

__________

One night I took Marjorie to the Master. She had in her hand an

offering of tulips, grown in her own garden, and these He

distributed among His visitors.

"Juliet's love for you is divine," He said, speaking to Marjorie,

"and your love for each other must become so great that no stab

will affect it." Then He told us that, in reality, our friendship

was an "eternal" one.
Marion deKay went with me to Him.

"Your friend, Juliet? Ancient friend?" and He smiled at the child.

"You must become a flame of love." ("Like Juliet," He said. I have

to keep all His sweet words to

me.) "You must become as steadfast as a rock, firm! strong! so that

when the storms break over you, when the thunder roars and the

winds rage, you will not be shaken. You must become a teacher, a

speaker."

On the fifteenth of May the Master went away for a few days. As

soon as He returned Lua telephoned me. "The Master says: come up

now if you wish. If not, you have permission to come to Him at any

time and to stay as long as you are able. Only, don't displease

your mother. He wants her to be happy, He says. This is His

message, Julie."
19 May 1912

On Sunday, 19 May, He spoke at the Church of the Divine

Paternity.[112] This was unbearably beautiful. The church is

Byzantine, making me think of the worship of the early Christians.

The interior is of grey stone.

Oh the look of His that day! Then, more vividly than ever, He shone

as the Good Shepherd, returned at last to His flocks. I wept

through the whole service. At the end of the pew in front of me sat

Lua, her eyes fixed on the master, rapt, adoring, her beauty

immeasurably heightened by that recognition, that adoration.

Soon I caught a glimpse of another rapt face--a man's--my old

friend, Mr Bailey's. Mr Bailey is the last person I could have

hoped to see there. A very old gentleman, he had always seemed to

me a hopelessly unconvertible atheist. At least he would never

listen to a word from me about the Cause. And now, here he sat, and

never have I seen a face more touched. His eyes were wistful, like

a child's, shyly reverent and as limpid as though there were tears

in them.

He met me that afternoon at the Master's apartment,

making his entrance with these words: "I have been thinking since

this morning that the way to the attainment of greatness is through

elimination."

"You felt," I ventured, "`Abdu'l-Bahá'í simplicity?"

"One would naturally feel,"--huffily--"the simplicity of Niagara."

"And the beauty of His Face?"

"The patriarchal grandeur of His face cannot be denied."

Later, how his eyes hung on that Face while the Master talked with

him!
21 May 1912

On 21 May, Mrs Tatum[113] had a reception for the Master. The

people who were there were of the fashionable world, with a

sprinkling of artists and writers. Mrs Sheridan was pouring tea.

Mrs Tatum's house is beautiful. The impression you get is of space

and light. A white staircase winds up through a very wide hall,

from which, on each side, rooms open--living rooms, dining room,

library. All these were soon crowded.

The first friend I caught sight of was Louis Potter.[114] He

came running up to me, exclaiming: "Oh august Juliet!" and attached

himself at once to Lua and me. Suddenly, there was a stir among the

people, and `Abdu'l-Bahá was in our midst. He walked over to a

yellow couch which curved along the big half-moon of the bay window

and sat down on it.

I think I must tell you how He looked there. His surroundings were

all white and yellow. Sunlight streamed in. The shadows on His face

were transparent; His profile, against the blue sky through the

polished glass of the windowpane, outlined in light.

"Come, Louis," I said to Louis Potter, "let's go to the Master."

Louis had never seen Him before, but he skipped forward like a

buoyant faun, his head tipped to one side, his hands outstretched.

"Ah-h-h!" he said. It was a little cry from his soul, as though he

were just coming home, and was so glad.

And the Master too said: "Ah-h-h!" His arms wide open, welcoming

Louis home.

Percy Grant arrived. As soon as he appeared, big and imposing, in

the room, the Master rose almost eagerly, smiling and holding out

His hand.
"Ah! Dr Grant!" He said.

They stood for what seemed to me minutes, their hands clasped,

Percy, with beautiful deference, bowing his head, a gentle, almost

tender look on his face. One of the Persians translated the

Master's greeting to him but spoke so low that I could not catch

the words. Then Percy sat down on the curving window seat so that

he faced the Master.

Soon there was another stir in the room. A small, rather plain

middle-aged woman with the most astonishing eyes--very clear, very

violet--stood in the

doorway, almost timidly, and the Master at once sent Dr Farid to

her to ask her to come and sit by Him. This was Sarah Graham

Mulhall.

He spoke a few words to her and she rose and went out, returning

after some time with a tray and a pot of tea and two cups on it.

The tray was placed on a stool between the Master and Miss Mulhall

and they drank their tea together.
__________

(Footnote. 1947. Miss Mulhall's father and brother, who were

physicians, had come to New York from England to study the effects

of drugs on the body and mind. Both died mysteriously. Miss

Mulhall's only training had been in music. She was a very gentle,

retiring woman and knew nothing of the ways of business or

organization or medicine, or anything that would have equipped her

for the evidently dangerous work of her father and brother. But

something inside her, against which she fought, urged her to

continue it. She was in the midst of this inward conflict when Mrs

Tatum telephoned her and asked her to come to meet the Master. At

first Miss Mulhall declined, saying that she really couldn't go

anywhere, she was too absorbed in her own problems, she couldn't

face a crowd of people. But later she thought: Perhaps `Abdu'l-Bahá

is a Prophet, as Mrs Tatum believes,[115] and He might help me in

making my decision.

The Master, when He called her to Him in Mrs Tatum's house, asked

if she would do something for Him. Would she brew some tea for Him

with her own

hands and drink it with Him? And while they drank tea and talked,

He Himself brought up her problem.

He told her she must do the work she had in mind; she would rise

very high in it and become "a great Counsellor"; God would always

protect her and all the Celestial Beings of the Supreme Concourse

would rally to her assistance.

She did become a Great Counsellor. After years of wonderful work,

Governor Smith, Al Smith, made her Adviser and First Commissioner

of Narcotics for New York State. One night she herself led a raid

against one of the chief centres of the drug ring--a ring of very

rich, prominent men, some of them "pillars" of St. Patrick's, some

"pillars" of St. John's Cathedral. Rounding them up in their

centre, an apartment on Park Avenue, she, with the help of her

squad of police, locked them in; then telephoned to the governor.

He took the next train to New York and upheld Miss Mulhall's

determination to bring them all to trial. Then he went to Cardinal

Hayes and Bishop Manning. Cardinal Hayes said: "These men are the

worst type of criminals. I agree with you that they must be

punished." Bishop Manning said: "You can't touch my parishioners.

They are the builders of St. John's Cathedral." He threatened Miss

Mulhall. "If you ruin them, I will destroy your office." Which he

did, ultimately, for of course every one of the men was found

guilty and sent to Fort Leavenworth. After Lehman was elected

Governor, the Narcotics Commission was abolished. But in the

meantime Miss Mulhall had done a tremendous work. Her book, Opium,

the Demon Flower, has become world famous.)
__________

Then I caught sight of little "Fergie". His real name I don't want

to mention because of what I am going to

tell. He is a noted newspaper man who writes visionary books on

economics. Percy Grant calls him "my prophet". His face is pale

and pinched and suffering and he wears a thick chestnut wig. I went

up to him and asked: "Wouldn't you like to meet the Master?" "I

think not," he drawled, "I really have nothing to say to Him."

And now the Master began to speak to the whole roomful of people.

He was very happy, He said, to be with us. "Think of the contrast!"

For years He had been imprisoned in a fortress, His associates

criminals. Now He found Himself in spacious homes, "associating,"

He said, "with you."

His talk gradually shaped itself to some definite point, which,

however, He kept for the very end. I wondered what could be coming.

When it came it was like a thunderclap.

"Think of it," He said. "Two kings were dethroned in order that I

might be freed. This is naught but pure destiny."

I glanced at Percy Grant and saw that he was deeply stirred. He had

been listening, still with that tender deference, his head slightly

tipped to one side, but at these last startling words of the

Master's, in a flash the placidity of his face broke up, something

burned through and his eyes sparked.

"And now," ended the Master, suddenly rising to His feet, strong

and incredibly majestic, "you here in America must work with Me for

the peace of the world and the oneness of mankind."

And with this He left us, the room seeming strangely empty after

He had gone.

The next morning early Howard MacNutt came to see me, looking so

radiant that I knew he was bringing good news. Then he told me. He

had just had breakfast with

Dr Grant, and the Master was to speak again at the Church of the

Ascension--at the People's Forum this time, the night of 2 June.

Bishop Burch had severely reprimanded Percy for inviting the Master

to speak on 14 April and for seating Him in the Bishop's chair! But

an idiotic thing like that would never stop Percy Grant--only make

him more defiant.

He had talked very freely with Mr MacNutt about `Abdu'l-Bahá and

His address of the day before with its great climax. "As I

listened," he said, "I realized profoundly that this was a historic

moment; that before me sat One Who, imprisoned for the sake of

humankind, had been freed by the Power of God alone, through the

dethroning of two kings."
Return to New York

On 22 May the Master left for Boston, returning the twenty-sixth.

After His return He stayed with the Kinneys a day or so (till He

moved to His new house), and then came my test! For two days He

never even looked at me. My heart bled and burned. I could not

endure the withdrawal of His nearness. The third day I went to the

new house--309 West Seventy-Eighth Street--and there, in Lua's

arms, I sobbed my heart out.

"I cry," I said, "only because I love Him," (which I fear was not

exactly true) "because I have just realized how terrifically I love

Him. This love burns my heart. It is beyond endurance."

Then He sent for me to come to Him.
__________

With tears rolling down my cheeks I entered His Presence. He was

sitting on a couch writing and did not look up--still didn't look

at me! But at last He said, going straight to the point, piercing

to the real cause of my trouble: "I have not seen you lately,

Juliet, because of

the multitude of the affairs. But I have not forgotten My promise

to pose for you. Come on Saturday with your materials and I will

sit."

I thanked Him; then falling on my knees, begged Him not to banish

me from His Presence. I could not endure to be separated from Him.

I loved, loved Him.

He rose, stood above me, took my hand and held it a long, long

time. I still knelt at His feet, the hem of His garment pressed to

my lips.
Lua joined her sweet voice to mine.

"Julie has had so much trouble this year. She wants to stay close

to You now so that her heart may be healed."
"I want to stay close because I love You!"
He smiled and said something about another love.
"That is gone. Gone," I cried.

At these words of mine which I thought were true, the strangest

thing happened. Always when the Master holds my hand I feel a flow

of sparks from His palm to mine. Now this current of Life was

suddenly cut off. Could I have lied to my Lord, and so, by

unconscious self-deception, disconnected myself from the

Fountainhead of pure Truth?

But His answer was merciful, reminding me of past sincerities. "I

am pleased with you, Juliet. You are so truthful. You tell me

everything. She said:" (He turned, laughing, to Lua) "'This is my

heart. What can I do with it?'"

I laughed too, through my tears. But soon I began to cry again.

He went back to the couch and sat down and Lua and I followed Him

and knelt together at His feet there.

"Don't cry!" (I wish the whole world could hear the

Master say "don't cry". Tears would soon cease to be.) "Don't cry!

Unhappiness and the love of Bahá'u'lláh cannot exist in the same

heart, for the love of Bahá'u'lláh is happiness."

"I cry for love of you, my Lord. My tears come from my heart. I

can't help it."

"Your eyes and Lua's"--and He laughed again--"are two rivers of

tears." "I love Juliet," He added, "for her truthfulness."

"I told Juliet," said Lua, putting her arms around me, as we still

knelt together side by side, "of Your words to Mrs Kaufman: that

these human loves were like waves of the sea rolling to the shore

one behind the other, each wave receding."

"Balih," (yes) said the Master, "this is true. You will not find

faithfulness in humanity. All humanity is unfaithful. Only God is

faithful. Bahá'u'lláh spent fifty years in prison for the sake of

humanity. There was faithfulness!"

"From this moment," cried Lua, "Juliet and I dedicate our lives to

Thee and we beg to at last die in Thy Path--to drink the cup of

martyrdom. Oh, it would be so good for the Cause if two Americans

could do this! Take hold of His coat, Julie, and beseech."

I touched the hem of His garment.

"Say yes," implored Lua. "Oh Julie, beg Him to say yes."

But in Thonon I had told the Master that I would not ask for that

cup again but would wait till God found me ready for it.

"I accept the dedication of your lives now. The rest will be

decided later."

And it was clear what He meant. How we must amuse Him!

__________

I must go back a little. On Sunday, 26 May, the night of the

Master's return from Boston, He spoke at Mr Ramsdell's (Baptist)

church.[116]

My friend, Lawrence White, who lives in Utica, had come to New York

to met the Master, and he, Silvia Gannett, and I went together to

the church.

We entered, to see a breathtaking picture: That church suggests an

old Jewish synagogue. Behind the chancel is a sweeping arch from

which hangs a dark, massive curtain in folds straight as organ

pipes. The chancel was empty that night except for the Master,

sitting--almost lying--in a semicircular chair, His head thrown

back, His luminous eyes uprolled. The sleeves of His

bronze-coloured 'aba branched out from His shoulders like great

spread wings, hiding His hands, so that I was conscious only of His

head and those terribly alive eyes. There was an awful mystery

about that dominance of the head. It seemed to obliterate the human

form and reveal Him as the Face of God. The curtain behind Him

might have concealed the Ark of the Covenant, which He, THE

COVENANT, was guarding.

Later, when He rose to speak, the Manifestation of the Glory was

entirely different. He diffused a softer radiance.

"Look at Him and see the Christ," whispered Lawrence White.

__________

Next, He spoke at the Church of the Open Door. Again the Shepherd.

Again I watched Him through blinding tears.
2 June 1912

On the second of June He spoke for Dr Grant's Forum.[117] And there

He was simpler; He manifested less, or perhaps I should say

manifested something different: a sort of brotherhood to the

masses, still retaining His grandeur. And how He addressed Himself

to that meeting and to the heart of Percy Grant!

The subject was: "What can the Orient bring to the Occident?"

That subject in that church!

Lua and I were in a front pew with Valiyu'llah Khan and Mirza

Mahmud. Suddenly I was petrified to see Mason Remey coming in,

through the door of the vestry-room. When he was last in the Church

of the Ascension I was siting beside him, engaged to him, while

Percy thundered at me from the pulpit. The text of the sermon that

Sunday was the same as the text today: "What can the Orient bring

to the Occident." "Nothing but disease and death," said Percy, his

eyes on me, "and God wants us to live; He wants us to live."

But the Speaker this time was the Master. He said: "The Orient

brings to the Occident the Manifestations of God."

Then He defined the Church as that Collective Centre which,

attracting many diverse elements, united them

into one ordered system, adding that the Church was but a

reflection of the real Collective Centre, the Shepherd, Who,

whenever His sheep became scattered, reappeared to unite them. So

the Church, established by God's Manifestation, was the Law of God,

and when Christ said to Peter, "On thee will I build My Church,"

He meant He would build His Law upon Peter. Upon him Christ built

the Law of God by which all peoples and creeds were afterward

unified.

The Master had said it again to Percy Grant: "Be thou like Peter,"

for this was His message sent by me last summer.

When, at the end of the marvellous address, Percy stepped out into

the chancel, it was another man I saw: a man touched by the Hand

of God, shaken to the very roots of his being. As Marjorie said,

he looked ill and strangely upset. He could scarcely articulate.

The questions followed; it is the custom of the Forum to ask

questions. In the centre of the chancel sat the Master, Dr Grant

on His right in a choirstall, Dr Farid behind Him. How at home the

Master looked there! He pushed back His turban and smiled as He

answered, often very wittily. Once He raised one finger high. I

caught my breath then. He was like Jesus in the synagogue

confronting the scribes and Pharisees, except that His audience

weren't Pharisees.
5 June 1912

The Master has begun to pose for me. He had said: "Can you paint

Me in a half hour?"

"A half hour, my Lord?" I stammered, appalled. I can never finish

a head in less than two weeks.

"Well, I will give you three half hours. You mustn't waste My time,

Juliet."

He told me to come to Him Saturday morning, 1 June, at

seven-thirty.

I went in a panic. He was waiting for me in the entrance hall, a

small space in the English basement where the light--not much of

it--comes from the south. In fact I found myself faced with every

kind of handicap. I always paint standing, but now I was obliged

to sit, jammed so close to the window (because of the lack of

distance between the Master and me) that I couldn't even lean back.

No light. No room. And I had brought a canvas for a life-size head.

The Master was seated in a dark corner, His black 'aba melting into

the background; and again I saw Him as the Face of God, and

quailed. How could I paint the Face of God?

"I want you," He said, "to paint My Servitude to God."

"Oh my Lord," I cried, "only the Holy Spirit could paint Your

Servitude to God. No human hand could do it. Pray for me, or I am

lost. I implore You, inspire me."

"I will pray," He answered, "and as you are doing this only for the

sake of God, you will be inspired."

And then an amazing thing happened. All fear fell away from me and

it was as though Someone Else saw through my eyes, worked through

my hand.

All the points, all the planes in that matchless Face were so clear

to me that my hand couldn't put them down quickly enough, couldn't

keep pace with the clarity of my vision. I painted in ecstasy, free

as I had never been before.

At the end of the half hour the foundation of the head was perfect.

On Monday again I went to the Master at seven-thirty. As I got off

the bus at Seventy-Eighth Street and Riverside Drive I saw Him at

the centre of a little group standing beside that strip of park

that drops low to the river--the part we love to call "His garden",

a forever hallowed spot to us, for there we sometimes walk with Him

in the evenings, there He takes His daily exercise, or escapes from

the house to rest and pray.

The people who were with Him this morning were Nancy Sholl and Ruth

Berkeley, Mr MacNutt and Mr Mills, and, as I hurried to join them,

I saw that the Master was anointing them from a vial of attar of

rose.

Oh the heavenly perfume, the pale, early-morning sunshine and the

Master, all in white glistening in it (no one else takes the

sunlight as He does: He is like a polished mirror to the sun), the

ecstatic, intoxicating love with which He rubbed our foreheads with

His strong fingers dripping with that essence of a hundred roses!

Soon we saw Miss Buckton crossing the street toward us, bringing

with her a tall young man with a remarkable face, very pure and

serene, which seemed somehow familiar to me. The Master abruptly

left us and met the two in the middle of the Drive. Then I saw Him

open His arms wide and clasp the young man to His breast.

We all followed the Master to His house, where the young man was

introduced to me, and then I knew why his face had seemed familiar.

He was Walter Hempden. I had seen him in the theatre. I was in the

audience, he on the stage playing the part of "the Servant" in The

Servant in the House: Christ. And he played it so intensely, with

such spiritual fervour, that I prayed with all my

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá in His "garden" on Riverside Drive in

New York, 1912.]

heart, there in the audience, that he might some day meet the real

"Servant!"118
12 June 1912

Yesterday morning I went up early to the Master's house, that house

whose door is open at seven-thirty and kept wide open till

midnight.

He had been away and I had not seen Him for three days. I had

brought my pastels, thinking He might sit for me, but I found Him

looking utterly spent. He was in the English basement, Ruth

Berkeley and Valiyu'llah Khan with Him, lying back against the sofa

cushions. But, in spite of His weariness, He looked up with

brilliant eyes.
"What do you want of Us, Juliet?" He smiled.
I had hid my pastels. "Only to be near You."

"You must excuse Me from sitting for you today. I am not able

today."
"I knew that, my Lord, as soon as I came in."

Then He talked to Ruth and me. He told us we were as Bábes nursing

at the Divine Breast. "But Bábes," He said, "grow daily through the

mother's milk."

I could not help but weep, for His was the Divine Breast.

Soon He went out alone to "the garden", leaving Ruth, Valiyu'llah

Khan, and me together.

"It is wonderful," Ruth said as He went, "to see how the world is

quickened today in all directions."

"And to know," I said, "that the Voice that is quickening it is the

same tender Voice that spoke to us just now." And I wept again, for

something about the Master that morning had utterly melted me.

Later He came back. The English basement was crowded by then and

He talked for a long while to the people. But this I could see was

pure sacrifice. His vitality seemed gone. At times He could

scarcely bring forth the words, yet He gave and gave. When He had

finished He hurriedly left the house and went again to "His

garden".

On the way to the bus I met Him returning alone. He stopped me, put

out His hand and took mine, with indescribable tenderness smiling

at me. In the handclasp, the look, even in the tilt of the head was

a Love so poignant as to give me pain.
"Come tomorrow and paint, Juliet," He said.

He appeared refreshed--better--but remembering His utter depletion

of the morning I couldn't help answering, "If You are well." Then

I thought I would speak in Persian to amuse Him, but instead of

saying, "If Your health is good," I made a mistake and said, "Agar

Shuma khub ast," (If You are good.) whereupon I was covered with

confusion. I must have amused Him!

How stupidly we speak to Him! Imagine saying "if" to Him. That was

even worse than my break in Persian.
__________

That night there was a meeting at the Kinneys', one of those deadly

"Board meetings", but the Master came to it.

Striding up and down like a king, He spoke to us. In these

meetings, He said, we should be in connection

with the Supreme Concourse. Between the Supreme Concourse and us

there should be telegraphic communication, one end of the wire in

the breast of each one here and the other in that Concourse on

high, so that all we might say or do would be inspired.

__________

Today (12 June) I went up early to His house, but not early enough.

As I turned into Seventy-Eighth Street from West End Avenue I saw

Him a block away, hastening toward "His garden", His robes floating

out as He walked.

Soon He came back to us. Miss Buckton had arrived by that time and

a poor little waif of a girl, a Jewess. She was all in black and

her small pale face was very careworn.

I had been in the kitchen with Lua. When I heard the voice of the

Master I hurried into the hall, and there I saw them sitting at the

window, the poor sad little girl at the Master's right, Alice

Buckton at His left. Like a God, He dominated the scene. Sunlight

streamed through the window, His white robes and turban shining in

it, the strong carving of His Face thrown into high relief by

masses of shadow.
The little Jewish girl was crying.

"Don't grieve now, don't grieve," He said. He was very, very still

and I think He was calming her.

"But my brother has been in prison for three years, and it wasn't

just to put him in prison. It wasn't his fault, what he did. He was

weak and other people led him. He has to serve four more years. My

father and mother are always depressed. My brother-in-law has just

died, and he was the on who supported us. Now we haven't even

that."
"You must trust in God," said the Master.

"But the more I trust the worse things become!" she sobbed.

"You have never trusted."

"But my mother is all the time reading psalms. She doesn't deserve

to have God abandon her. I read the psalms myself, the ninety-first

psalm and the twenty-third psalm, every night before I go to bed.

I pray too."

"To pray is not to read psalms. To pray is to trust in God and to

be submissive in all things to Him. Be submissive; then things will

change for you. Put your parents and your brother in God's hands.

Love God's Will. Strong ships are not conquered by the sea, they

ride the waves! Now be a strong ship, not a battered one."

At noon I took Percy Grant to the Master. The Master had inquired

for him and sent him a message by me, and Percy had responded

instantly by himself suggesting this visit. But the Master was out

when we reached the house and while we were waiting for Him I

mentioned a very interesting thing He had said to Gifford

Pinchot:[119] that the people were rising wave upon wave, like a

great tide, and the capitalists, unless they realized this soon,

would be driven out with violence; also, that in the future the

labourer would not work on a wage basis but for an interest in the

concern.

Just then Lua appeared at the door of the room opposite, went to

the stairway and, with her beautiful reverence, leaned across the

rail to look down.
"He is coming, Lua?"
"Yes, Julie, He is coming!"

He entered the room with both hands extended and in

a voice like a chime from His heart, said: "Oh-h, Dr Grant! Dr

Grant!"
Then I slipped out.

When I returned at the Master's call, He was signing a photograph

for Percy and writing a prayer on it. "And now," he said,

presenting it, "you must give Me your photograph. I want your face.

I have given you Mine. Now you must give Me yours."

"I will pray for you," He added as He bade Percy goodbye. "I will

mention you daily in My prayers."

The Master detained me for a moment. As I rejoined Percy in the

car, Valiyu'llah Khan was just going into the house.

"Do you see that handsome, distinguished-looking young man?" I

said. "That is Valiyu'llah Khan, a descendant of two generations

of martyrs and the brother of one very young martyr. His

grandfather, Sulayman Khan, was a disciple of The Báb. He was

Governor of Fars and a great prince, but that didn't save him. He

suffered the most ghastly kind of martyrdom and with such ecstasy

that he is one of the best beloved of The Bábi martyrs.

"Just a few years ago Valiyu'llah's father, Varqa Khan, and his

little brother, [Ruhu'llah] Varqa, went on a pilgrimage to 'Akka

and had a wonderful visit with the Master. But on their way home

they were both arrested and thrown into prison. Then one day some

brutal men came into their cell, one with an axe. Varqa Khan was

hacked into pieces alive, and the poor little boy forced to look

on at that butchery. When it was over, one of the executioners

turned to the child. I think I will tell the rest in Valiyu'llah

Khan's own language, just as he told it to me.

"'The man said to my brother: "If you will deny Bahá'u'lláh, we

will take you to the court of the Shah and honours and riches will

be heaped upon you." But my brother answered: "I do not want such

things." Then the man said to him: "If you refuse to deny, we will

kill you worse than your father." "You may kill me a thousand times

worse," my brother said. "Is my life of more value than my

father's? To die for Bahá'u'lláh is my supreme desire." 'This so

angered the executioners that they fell upon Varqa and choked him

to death.' Varqa was only twelve years old.

"A day or two ago," I went on, "Valiyu'llah Khan asked me, 'How is

the Master's portrait progressing?' and he added that, in a

portrait, he thought 'one must paint the soul.' 'But who can paint

the soul of `Abdu'l-Bahá I asked. And I wish you could have seen

the fire in his eyes as he drew himself up and said: 'We can paint

it with our blood!'"
13 June 1912

The next day, 13 June, as usual I went very early to the Master's

house--so early that no one was there--I mean, no visitors. Some

of the Persians of course were with Him: Valiy'u'llah Khan, Ahmad

and Mirza 'Ali-Akbar. I found them in the lower hall, the English

basement. The Master was sitting in the big chair by the window.

He called me to a seat opposite, then began to speak, smiling.

"Juliet is absolutely truthful. For this I love her very much. She

conceals nothing from me."

"It would be useless, my Lord," I said, "to try to conceal anything

from You. I could hide nothing."

"That is true," said the Master, raising one hand. "Nothing;

nothing."

Soon He rose. "Stay here," He told me, and went out with Ahmad.

By the time He returned a crowd had gathered. He gave a few private

interviews upstairs, then came down and, sitting by the window,

talked to all the people. I think the strongest image in my mind

is and will always be the holy figure of the Master sitting in the

rays of the sun at that window.

The meeting over, a few of us went upstairs to say a healing prayer

for Mrs Hinkle-Smith, but just before Lua began to chant, the

Master looked in at the door and called: "Juliet," and I happily

deserted Mrs Hinkle-Smith.

"Bring your things in here and paint," He said, pointing to the

library.

Oh, these sittings: so wonderful, yet so humanly difficult! We move

from room to room, from one kind of light to another. The Master

has given me three half hours, each time in a different room, and

each time people come in and watch me. But the miraculous thing is

that nothing makes any difference. The minute I begin to work the

same rapture takes possession of me. Someone Else looks through my

eyes and sees clearly; Someone Else works through my hand with a

sort of furious precision.

On this thirteenth of June, after Lua had chanted the prayer for

Mrs Hinkle-Smith, she and May came into the library, crossed over

to where I was sitting and stood behind me.

The Master looked up and smiled at May. "You have a kind heart, Mrs

Maxwell." Then He turned to Lua. "You, Lua, have a tender heart.

And what kind of heart

have you, Juliet?" He laughed. "What kind of a heart have you?"

"Oh, what kind of heart have I? You know, my Lord. I don't know."

"An emotional heart." He laughed again and rolled His hands one

round the other in a sort of tempestuous gesture. "You will have

a boiling heart, Juliet. Now," He continued, "if these three hearts

were united into one heart--kind, tender and emotional--what a

great heart that would be!"
14 June 1912

The next morning, Thursday, though I went unusually early to the

Master, He had already left the house. But Lua, Valiyu'llah Khan,

and I had a wonderful morning. Valiyu'llah told us so many things.

"My father," he said, "spent much time with the Blessed Beauty. The

Blessed Beauty Himself taught him.

"One time when my father was in His room, Bahá'u'lláh rose and

strode back and forth till the very walls seemed to shake. And He

told my father that once in an age the Mighty God sent a Soul to

earth endowed with the power of the Great Ether, and that such a

Soul had all power and was able to do anything. 'Even this walk of

Mine' said Bahá'u'lláh, 'has an effect in the world.'

"Then He said that His Holiness Jesus Christ had also come with the

power of the Great Ether, but the haughty priesthood of His day

thought of Him as a poor, unlettered youth and believed that if

they should crucify Him, His Teachings would soon be forgotten.

Therefore they did crucify Him. But because His Holiness Jesus

possessed the power of the Great Ether, He could not remain

underground. This ethereal power rose and conquered the whole

earth. 'And now,' the Blessed Beauty said, 'look to the Master, for

this same Power is His.'

"Bahá'u'lláh," added Valiyu'llah Khan, "taught my father much about

�qa. �qa (the Master, you know) is one of the titles of

`Abdu'l-Bahá and the Greatest Branch is another, and the Greatest

Mystery of God another. By all these we call Him in Persian. The

Blessed Perfection, Bahá'u'lláh, revealed the Station of

`Abdu'l-Bahá to my father. And my father wrote many poems to the

Master, though the Master would scold him and say: 'You must not

write such things to Me.' But the heart of my father could not keep

quiet. This is one poem he wrote:
__________

'O Dawning-Point of the Beauty of God, I know Thee! Though Thou

shroudest Thyself in a thousand veils, I know Thee! Though Thou

shouldst assume the tatters of a beggar, still would I know Thee!'

__________

In the late afternoon I returned with my mother. The Master

received us in His own room, which was full of roses and lilies and

carnations.

"Ah-h! Mrs Thompson. Marhaba! Marhaba!" (Welcome! Welcome!)

The intonation of that "Marhaba" can never be described. It is a

welcome from a heart which is a channel for God's heart.

He was very playful with Mamma. "Are you pleased

with Juliet? Pleased now, Mrs Thompson? The next time you have to

complain of her, come and complain to Me and I will beat her!"

15 June 1912

On Friday, 15 June, I was with the Master alone for a while, and

I brought up the name of Percy Grant. "He didn't understand You the

other day, my Lord. He thinks that You teach asceticism, that the

spirit and the flesh are two separate things."

"That is not what I said," the Master replied. "I said that the

spiritual man and the materialist were two different beings. The

spirit is in the flesh."
5 July 1912

The Beloved Master's portrait is finished. He sat for me six times,

but I really did it in the three half hours He had promised me; for

the sixth time, when He posed in His own room on the top floor, I

didn't put on a single stroke. I was looking at the portrait

wondering what I could find to do, when He suddenly rose from his

chair and said: "It is finished." The fifth time He sat, Miss

Souley-Campbell came in with a drawing she had done from a

photograph to ask if He would sign it for her and if she might add

a few touches from life. This meant that He had to change His pose,

so of course I couldn't paint that day. And the fourth time (the

nineteenth of June)--who could have painted then?

I had just begun to work, Lua in the room sitting on a couch

nearby, when the Master smiled at me; then turning to Lua said in

Persian: "This makes me sleepy. What shall I do?"

[Photograph: Portrait of `Abdu'l-Bahá painted by Juliet Thompson,

1912.]

"Tell the Master, Lua, that if He would like to take a nap, I can

work while He sleeps."

But I found that I could not. What I saw then was too sacred, too

formidable. He sat still as a statue, His eyes closed, infinite

peace on that chiselled face, a God-like calm and grandeur in His

erect head.

Suddenly, with a great flash like lightning He opened His eyes and

the room seemed to rock like a ship in a storm with the Power

released. The Master was blazing. "The veils of glory", "the

thousand veils", had shrivelled away in that Flame and we were

exposed to the Glory itself.
Lua and I sat shaking and sobbing.

Then He spoke to Lua. I caught the words, "Munadiy-i 'Ahd." (Herald

of the Covenant.
Lua started forward, her hand to her breast.
"Man?" (I?) she exclaimed.

"Call one of the Persians. You must understand this."

Never shall I forget that moment, the flashing eyes of `Abdu'l-Bahá

the reverberations of His Voice, the Power that still rocked the

room. God of lightning and thunder! I thought.

"I appoint you, Lua, the Herald of the Covenant. And I AM THE

COVENANT, appointed by Bahá'u'lláh. And no one can refute His Word.

This is the Testament of Bahá'u'lláh. You will find it in the Holy

Book of Aqdas. Go forth and proclaim, 'This is THE COVENANT OF GOD

in your midst.'"

A great joy had lifted Lua up. Her eyes were full of light. She

looked like a winged angel. "Oh recreate me," she cried, "that I

may do this work for Thee!"
By now I was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Julie too," said Lua, not even in such a moment forgetful of me,

"wants to be recreated."

But the Master had shrouded Himself with His veils again, the

"thousand veils". He sat before us now in His dear humanity: very,

very human, very simple.

"Don't cry, Juliet," He said. "This is no time for tears. Through

tears you cannot see to paint."

I tried hard to hold back my tears and to work, but painting that

day was at an end for me.
The Master smiled lovingly.

"Juliet is one of My favourites because she speaks the truth to me.

See how I love the truth, Juliet. You spoke one word of truth to

Me and see how I have praised it!"

I looked up to smile in answer, and in gratitude, then was

overwhelmed again by that awful convulsive sobbing.

At this the Master began to laugh and, as He laughed and laughed,

the strangest thing happened. It was as if at each outburst He

wrapped Himself in more veils, so that now He looked completely

human, without a trace left of His superhuman majesty. Never had

I seen Him like this before and I never did afterward.

"I am going to tell you something funny," He said, adding in

English, "a joke".

"Oh tell it!" we begged; and now I was in a sort of hysteria,

laughing and crying at the same time.
"No. Not now. Paint."
But of course I couldn't paint.
Later, walking up and down, He laughed again.
"I am thinking of My joke," He explained.
"Tell it!" we pleaded.

"No, I cannot, for every time I try to tell it I laugh so I cannot

speak."

We got down on our knees, able at last to enter into His play, and

begged Him, "Please, please tell us." We were laughing on our

knees.
"No. Not now. After lunch."

But, alas, after lunch He went upstairs to His room, and we never

heard the Master's joke.

Perhaps, there wasn't any joke. Perhaps He had just found it

necessary, after that mighty Declaration, to bring us down to earth

again. He had revealed to us "The Apex of Immortality." He had

lifted us to a height from which we could see it. Now He, our

loving Shepherd, had carried us in His own arms back to our little

valley and put us where we belonged.
__________

In the early morning of 19 June, before the Master had called me

to paint Him, He had spoken to the people in the English basement.

On His way down the stairs from His room He passed Lua and me,

where we stood in the third-floor hall. We saw, and felt, as He

walked down the upper flight, a peculiar power in His step--as

though some terrific Force had possession of Him; a Force too

strong to be caged in the body, sparking through, almost escaping

His body, able to sunder it. I cannot begin to describe that

indomitable step, its fearful majesty, or the strange flashing of

His eyes. The sublime language of the Old Testament, words such as

these: "Who is this that cometh from Bozrah ... that treadeth the

wine-press in His fury?" faintly express what I saw as I watched

the Master descending those stairs. Unsmiling, He passes Lua and

me. Then He looked back, still unsmiling.
"Juliet is one of My favourites," He said.
__________

In the afternoon of that same day He sent Lua down to the waiting

people to "proclaim the Covenant"; then a

little later followed her and spoke Himself on the station of the

Centre of the Covenant, but not as He had done to Lua and me. The

blazing Reality of it He had revealed in His own Person to us. To

them He spoke guardedly, even deleting afterwards from our notes

some of the things He had said.

Still later that afternoon the Master had promised to sit for a

photograph. I had made the appointment myself with Mrs Kasebier,

a very wonderful photographer, to bring the Master to her studio,

but some people prevented His getting off in time. When they left,

He sent for me.

"I am ashamed," He said (while I nearly died at that word "ashamed"

from Him), "but I will go tomorrow. I had planned to leave for

Montclair tomorrow but I will stay until Friday for your sake."

"I can't bear, my Lord," I said, "to have You delay Your trip to

the country for this."
"No, I wish it," He answered.

"I have a confession to make, my Lord," I said. "I have been to Dr

Grant's house. It happened in this way: he asked if I would be the

bearer of his photograph to You and would I stop at the Rectory for

it on my way up to You. Then he invited me to come to breakfast.

That invitation I declined, but I could think of no excuse for

refusing to stop for the picture. So I did go. But I stayed only

five or ten minutes and his mother was with us all the time."

"Good, good," said the Master. "Going to his house was not good,

but since you have confessed it, Juliet, I am very much pleased.

When I look into your heart," He added, smiling, "I find it just

like that mirror--it is so pure."

(Oh, please understand me, when I repeat such things it is only

because they are His words to me. I keep them just to remind myself

of something potential He sees in me which I must grow up to. I am

not reminding myself of His praise, for it really isn't praise but

stimulation. If He had been blaming me, I would repeat His blame

too.

He then spoke of my teaching. "Your breath is effective," He said.

"You are now in the Kingdom of Abha with Me, as I wished you to

be."
20 June 1912

The next day, 20 June, we went to Mrs Kasebier's--Lua, Mrs

Hinkle-Smith, and I--in the car with the Master.

I shall never forget the Master's beauty in the strange cold light

of her studio, a green, underwater sort of light, in which He

looked shining and chiselled, like the statue of a god. But the

pictures are dark shadows of Him.
21 June 1912

On 21 June, the Master left for Montclair to stay nine days. I was

with Him all day till He went. I had lunched with Him nearly every

day that week. Lua, Mrs Hinkle-Smith, Valiyu'llah Khan, and I bade

Him goodbye on the steps of His house. Montclair
23 June 1912

It had nearly killed Lua not to be taken to Montclair with Him. Two

days later she said to me: "Let's go to see Him, Julie."

"How can we, Lua? He didn't invite us," I answered. "He bade us

goodbye for nine days."

"Oh but you have an excuse, those proofs of Mrs Kasebier's

pictures. You really should show them to Him, Julie."

And she whirled Georgie Ralston and me off to Montclair with her.

We were punished of course, and our first punishment was that lunch

was unusually late (so that instead of arriving after, as we had

planned, we arrived just in time for it). And this was agonizing,

for there weren't enough seats at the table, and the Master

wouldn't sit down to eat. One of us had to occupy His chair, while

He Himself waited on us, carrying all the courses around and around

that table. I couldn't get over my mortification.

At the end He came in with the fruit, a glass bowl full of golden

peaches. Without turning His head--His face was set straight before

Him--He sent a piercing glance from the corner of His eye toward

Lua and me. Such a majestic, stern glance, like a sword-thrust.

After lunch, and this was our second punishment, He banished the

three of us--Georgie, Lua, and me--leading us to a small back porch

and abandoning us there. But before very long He returned and asked

us to take a walk with Him.

We came back from our walk by way of the front porch. Some people

were gathered there and Lua, Georgie, and I sat down with them

while the Master went upstairs to rest. He joined us, however, very

soon and, striding up and down, began to talk to us. As He walked

His Power shook us; His intoxicating exhilaration, pouring into me,

filled me up with new life.

His eyes--those eyes of light, which seem to be always looking into

heaven and when for an instant they glance toward earth, veer away

at once, back to heaven--were brilliantly restless. His whole Being

was restless with the same strange Force I had felt on that

memorable day, the nineteenth of June. It was as though

the lightning of His Spirit could scarcely endure to be harnessed

to the body. He was almost out of the body. But soon He took a seat

and rested quietly.

I showed Him the proofs of the pictures, then spoke of Mrs

Kasebier--who had seen Him only once, when she photographed Him.

"She said she would like to live near You, my Lord."

He laughed. "She doesn't want to live near Me. She only wants a

good time!" Then He grew serious. "To live near Me," He said, "one

must have My aims and objects. Do you remember the rich young man

who wanted to live near Christ, and when he learned what it cost

to live near Him--that it meant to give away all his possessions

and take up a cross and follow Christ--then," the Master laughed,

"he fled away!"[120]

"Among the disciples of The Báb," He continued, "were two: His

amanuensis and a firm believer. On the eve of The Báb's martyrdom

the firm believer prayed: 'Oh let me die with You!' The amanuensis

said: 'What shall I do?'

"'What shall I do?'" mocked the Master. "'What do you want me to

do?' The disciple died with The Báb, his head on the breast of the

Bab, and their bodies were mingled in death. The other died in

prison anyway, but think of the difference in their stations!

"There was another martyr," continued the Master after a moment,

"Mirza 'Abdu'llah of Shiraz." Then He told us that Mirza 'Abdu'llah

had been in the Presence of Bahá'u'lláh only once, "but he so loved

the Blessed Beauty" that he could not resist following Him to

Tihran, though Bahá'u'lláh had commanded him to remain in Shiraz

with his old parents. "Still," said the Master, His tone exultant,

"he followed!"

Mirza 'Abdu'llah reached Tihran in the midst of that bloodiest of

massacres resulting from the attempt on the Shah's life by two

fanatical Bábis. Bahá'u'lláh had been cast into a dungeon. There,

in that foul cellar He sat, weighted down by "The Devil's Chain",

eleven disciples sitting with Him, bound by the same chain. In it

were set iron collars which were fastened around the neck by iron

pins. Every day a disciple was slaughtered and none knew when his

turn would come. The first intimation he had of his immediate death

was when the jailer took out the iron pin from his collar.

Mirza 'Abdu'llah entered Tihran and inquired of the guard at the

gate "where Bahá'u'lláh resided." "We will take you to Him," said

the guard. And some men took 'Abdu'llah to the dungeon and chained

him to Bahá'u'lláh.

"So," the Master said, "he found his Beloved again!"

One day the jailer came into the dungeon and took out the pin from

Mirza 'Abdu'llah's collar.

"Then," said the Master, "Mirza 'Abdu'llah stepped joyfully

forward. First, he kissed the feet of the Blessed Beauty, and then

..."

The Master's whole aspect suddenly changed. It was as though the

spirit of the martyr had entered into Him. With that God-like head

erect, snapping His fingers high in the air, beating out a

drum-like rhythm with His foot till we could hardly endure the

vibrations set up, He triumphantly sang "The Martyr's Song".

"I have come again, I have come again,
By way of Shiraz I have come again!
With the wine cup in My hand!
Such is the madness of Love!"

"And thus," ended `Abdu'l-Bahá, "singing and dancing he went to his

death, and a hundred executioners fell on him! And later his

parents came to Bahá'u'lláh, praising God that their son had given

his life in the Path of God."

This was what the Cause meant then. This was what it meant to "live

near Him"! Another realm opened to me, the realm of Divine Tragedy.

The Master sank back into His chair. Tears swelled in my eyes,

blurring everything. When they cleared I saw a still stranger look

on His face. His eyes were unmistakably fixed on the Invisible.

They were filled with delight and as brilliant as jewels. A smile

of exultation played on His lips. So low that it sounded like an

echo He hummed the Martyr's Song.

"See," He exclaimed, "the effect that the death of a martyr has in

the world. It has changed My condition." After a moment's silence,

He asked: "What is it, Juliet, you are pondering so deeply?"

"I was thinking, my Lord, of the look on Your face when You said

Your condition had been changed. And that I had seen a flash of the

joy of God when someone dies happily for His Cause."

"There was one name," the Master answered, "that always brought joy

to the face of Bahá'u'lláh. His expression would change at the

mention of it. That name was Mary of Magdala."
West Englewood
29 June 1912

Almost a week passed before we saw our Lord again. Then, on the

twenty-ninth of June, we met Him at West Englewood. He was giving

a feast for all the believers in the grounds around Roy Wilhelm's

house, the "Feast of Unity" He called it.

I went with dear Silvia Gannett. We walked from the little station,

past the grove where the tables were set--a grove of tall pine

trees--and on to the house in which He was, He Whose Presence

filled our eyes with light and without Whom our days had been very

dim and lifeless.

Ah, there He was again! Sitting in a corner of the porch! I sped

across the lawn, forgetting Silvia, forgetting everything. He

looked down at me with grave eyes, and I saw a fathomless welcome

in them.

For a while we sat with Him on the porch. Then He led us down into

the grove. There He seated Himself on the ground at the foot of a

pine tree and called two believers to His right and left. One was

Mrs Krug in her very elegant clothes, the other a poor and shabby

old woman. But both faces, the wrinkled one and the smooth, pretty

one, were beautiful with the same radiance. I shall never forget

that old woman's shining blue eyes.

The great words He spoke to us then have been preserved.[121] I

will not repeat them. Besides I remember them too imperfectly. But

He said one thing which woke my whole being: "This is a New Day;

a New Hour."

By the time He had finished, the feast was ready, but just as it

was announced a storm blew up--a strange, sudden storm, without

warning. There was a tremen-

dous crash of thunder; through the treetops we could see black

clouds boiling up, and big drops of rain splashed on the tables.

The Master rose calmly and, followed by the Persians, walked out

to the road, then to the end of it where there is a crossroad. A

single chair had been left there and, as I watched from a distance,

I saw the Master take it and sit down, while the Persians ranged

themselves behind Him. I saw Him lift His face to the sky. He had

gone a long way from the house; thunder still crashed and the

clouds rolled frighteningly low, but He continued to sit perfectly

motionless, that sacred, powerful face upturned to the sky. Then

came a strong, rushing wind; the clouds began to race away; blue

patches appeared above and the sun shone out. And then the Master

rose and walked back into the grove. This I witnessed.

Later, as we sat at the tables, two hundred and fifty of us, He

anointed us all with attar of rose. I was not at a table but

sitting under a tree with Marjorie Morten and Silvia. The Master

swept toward us in His long white robes, forever the Divine

Shepherd.
"Friends here?" He smiled, "Friends?"

In His voice was a thrilling joy. With a look that shook my heart,

so full was it with the musk of His Love, He rubbed my face hard

with the attar of rose.

He passed among all the tables with His little vial of perfume

(which Grace Robarts swears was almost as full at the end as in the

beginning) anointing the forehead of every one there, touching and

caressing all our blind faces with His tingling fingers.

Then He disappeared for hours.
__________

Lua, too, went off alone, an exceedingly naughty purpose in her

mind. The Master had just told her that she

must leave very soon for California. So now she deliberately walked

in poison ivy, walked back and forth and back and forth till her

feet were thoroughly poisoned. "Now, Julie," she said (when the

deed was done) "He can't send me to California."
__________

To me the most beautiful scene of all came later, when the Master

returned to us after dark. About fifty or sixty people had

lingered, unable to tear themselves from Him. The Master sat in a

chair on the top step of the porch, some of us surrounding

Him--dear guilty Lua with her poisoned feet, May, Silvia, Marjorie,

and I and a young coloured man, Neval Thomas. Below us, all over

the lawn, on each side of the path, sat the others, the light

summer skirts of the women spread out on the grass, tapers in their

hands (to keep off mosquitoes). In the dark, in their filmy

dresses, they looked like great moths and the burning tips of the

tapers they waved like fireflies darting about.

Then the Master spoke again to us. I was standing behind Him, close

to Him, and before He began He turned and gave me a long, profound

look. His talk of that night has been recorded. It was a resounding

Call to us to arise from the tomb of self in this Day of the Great

Resurrection and unite around Him to vivify the world.

Before He had finished He rose from His chair and started down the

path still talking, passing between the dim figures on the grass

with their lighted tapers, talking till He reached the road, where

He turned and we could no longer see Him. Even then His words

floated back to us--the liquid Persian, 'Ali Quli Khan's beautiful,

quivering translation, like the sound of a violin string.

"Peace be with you," this was the last we heard, "I will pray for

you."

Oh that Voice that came back out of His invisibility when He had

passed beyond our sight. May I always remember, and hear the Voice.

New York
30 June 1912

That night our Beloved Lord returned to New York. The next morning

early I flew up to see Him, but He sent me at once to Lua, who was

staying with Georgie Ralston in a hotel nearby.

She was in bed, her feet terribly swollen from the poison ivy.

"Look at me, Julie," she said. "Look at my feet. Oh, please go

right back to the Master and tell Him about them and say: 'How can

Lua travel now?'"

I did it, returned to the Master's house, found Him in His room and

put Lua's question to Him. He laughed, then crossed the room to a

table on which stood a bowl of fruit, and, selecting an apple and

a pomegranate, gave them to me.

"Take these to Lua," He said. "Tell her to eat them and she will

be cured. Spend the day with her, Juliet."

Oh precious Lua--strange mixture of disobedience and obedience--and

all from love! I shall never forget her, seizing first the apple,

then the pomegranate and gravely chewing them all the way through

till not even a pomegranate seed was left: thoroughly eating her

cure, which was certain to send her to California.

In the late afternoon we were happily surprised by a visit from the

Master Himself. He drew back the sheet and looked at Lua's feet,

which by that time were beautifully slim. Then He burst out

laughing.

"See," He said, "I have cured Lua with an apple and a pomegranate."

But Lua revolted again. There was one more thing she could try, and

she tried it. The Master had asked me to

paint her portrait and I had already had one sitting. The following

day, at the Master's house, she drew me aside.

"Please, Julie, do something else for me. Go to the Master, now,

and say: 'If Lua is in California, how can I paint her?'"

I went straight to His room with Valiyu'llah Khan to translate. "My

Lord," I said, "You have commanded me to paint Lua. If she is in

California and I here, how can I do it? The portrait is begun; how

can I finish it?"

Again the Master burst out laughing, for this of course was too

transparent.

"In a year," He said, "Lua will join Me in Egypt. She will stay in

New York a few days on her way to Me and you can paint her then,

Juliet."

So poor Lua had to go to California. There was no way out for

her.[122]
4 July 1912

On the fourth of July, yesterday, Mamma had her birthday dinner

with the Master. He was so sweet to her. When we first arrived we

found Him in the English basement and He led Mamma to the sofa and,

with that wonderful freedom of His, drew her down beside Him.

Carrie Kinney, Georgie Ralston, and I were sitting across the room

by the window and I'm afraid we did look solemn, for we sat in a

row, perfectly silent.

"Look at them!" said Mamma, laughing. "They are jealous of me!"

"Then we will make them more jealous!" arid the

Master seized Mamma's hand and drew her still closer, at which she

looked really scared!

Now I felt compelled to speak. "Three years ago, my Lord, on the

fourth of July, Carrie, and I were with You in 'Akka and You took

us to the Holy Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh. I never expected to keep that

anniversary with You in New York."

At the table the Master joked with Mamma because she was eating so

little. "I perceive that you are an angel, Mrs Thompson. Angels do

not eat."

"The Master sees I am not an angel," I laughed, "for I eat every

morsel He puts on my plate."

"I perceive that you are a very clever girl. Mrs Thompson," He

continued, "is going home to a luscious supper and saving her

appetite for that."

Passing me a dish with three very shrivelled dates on it, He said:

"Here, Juliet, are the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."

And I ate them up!

A little later Mamma said, looking at the Master with her sweet

shyness: "You are very kind to me."
"God knows the degrees of it," He sighed deeply.
__________

While we sat with Him after dinner, He spoke of tests. "Even the

sword," He said, "is no test to the Persian believers. They are

given a chance to recant; they cry out instead: 'Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!'

Then the sword is raised,"--He shot up His arm as though

brandishing a sword--"they cry out all the more 'Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!'

But some of the people here are tested if I don't say 'How do you

do?'"
12 July 1912

I have almost no time to write these days, as I spend most of them

with the Beloved Master and when I try to write after dinner, my

darling little mother stops me too soon. Her room is at right

angles with mine and at ten o'clock she calls through her window:

"Put out your light, Báby." But there are three or four lovely

things that I must tell.

On Monday, 9 July, the Master invited me, with the Persians to go

to the Natural History Museum. It was a broiling afternoon and I

couldn't imagine why He should want to go to that Museum, and in

the hottest part of the day. But wherever He went, there I wanted

to be.

When we reached the Ninth Avenue corner of the Museum the Master,

exhausted by that time, sank to a low stone ledge to rest. Between

us and the main door on the Central Park corner stretched a long

cross-town block in glaring sun, not a single tree on the sidewalk.

"My Lord," I said, "let me try to find a nearer entrance for You."

And I hurried along the grass, keeping close to the building,

searching the basement for a door. The employees' entrance was

locked. Just beyond stood a sign: "No Thoroughfare." I was rushing

past this when a shrill whistle stopped me, and I turned to face

the watchman of the grounds. He was a little bent old Jew with a

very kind face.

"Oh excuse me," I said, "for breaking the rules, but I must find

a nearer door than the main one. See Who is sitting on that ledge!

I must find it for Him."

The watchman turned and looked at the Master, look-

ed and looked, at that Figure from the East, from the Past--the

Days of the Old Testament--and his eyes became very soft. "Is He

a Jew?" he asked.
"A descendant of Abraham."

"Come with me," said the watchman. "Ask Him to come with me."

I went over and spoke to the Master and He rose and followed with

the Persians, I dropping back to walk with them. There was not a

nearer entrance, but the watchman, taking a risk perhaps, led us

across the grass, where at least it was cooler and the way shorter.

In the Museum we passed through a room in which a huge whale hung

from the ceiling. The Master looked up at it, laughed and said: "He

could hold seventy Jonahs!"

Then He took us straight to the Mexican exhibit, and this seemed

to interest Him very much. In the great elaborately carved glyphs

standing around the room He found traces of Persian art and pointed

them out to me. He told us this sculpture resembled very closely

the ancient sculpture of Egypt. "Only," He said, "this is better."

Then He took me over to the cases where He showed me purely Persian

bracelets.

"I have heard a tradition," I said, "that in the very distant past

this country and Asia were connected."

"Assuredly," answered the Master, "before a great catastrophe there

was such a connection between Asia and America."

After looking at everything in the Mexican rooms, He led us to the

front door and out into the grounds again. Then, stepping from the

stone walk to the grass, He seated Himself beneath a young birch

tree, His back to us, while we stood behind Him on the flags. He

sat there

a long time, silent. Was He waiting for someone? I wondered.

While He--waited?--the old Jewish watchman stole quietly up to me

from the direction of the Museum.

"Is He tired?" he whispered. "Who is He? He looks like such a great

man."

"He is `Abdu'l-Bahá of Persia," I said, "and He has been a great

Sufferer because of His work for the real Brotherhood of Man, the

uniting of all the races and nations."

"I should like to speak to Him," said the Jew. And I took him over

to the tree under which the Master still sat with His back to us.

At the sound of our footsteps He turned and looked up at the

watchman, His brilliant eyes full of sweetness. "Come and sit by

Me," He said.
"Thank You, Sir, but I am not allowed."

"Is it against the rules for Me to sit on the grass?"

The old man's eyes, softly shining, were fixed on the Master. "No,

You may sit there all day!"
But the Master rose and stood beneath the tree.

Such pictures as I see when the Master is in them could never be

put upon canvas--not even into words, except by the sublimest

poet--but I always want to try at least to leave a trace of their

beauty. The Master, luminous in the sunlight, His white robe

flowing to the grass, standing beside the white slender trunk of

the birch tree, with its leafy canopy over His head. The Jew

standing opposite Him--so bent, so old--his eyes, like a lover's,

humbly raised to the face of his own Messiah! As yet unrecognized,

his Messiah, yet his heart worshiped.

Eagerly he went on, offering all he could think of to this

Mysterious One Who had touched him so deeply.

"You didn't see the whole of the Museum. Would You like to go back

after You have rested? You didn't go up to the third floor."

(Unseen by us he must have been following all the time.) "The

fossils and the birds are up there. Wouldn't You like to see the

birds?"
The Master answered very gently, smiling.

"I am tired of travelling and looking at the things of this world.

I want to go above and travel and see in the spiritual worlds. What

do you think about that?" He asked suddenly, beaming on the old

watchman.

The watchman looked puzzled and scratched his head.

"Which would you rather posses," continued the Master, "the

material or the spiritual world?"

Still the old man pondered. At last he brought forth: "Well, I

guess the material. You know you have that, anyway."

"But you do not lose it when you have attained the spiritual world.

When you go upstairs in a house, you don't leave the house. The

lower floor is under you."

"Oh I see!" cried the watchman, his whole face lighting up, "I

see!"

After we parted from the watchman, who walked with us all the way

to the Ninth Avenue corner, leading us again across the grass, I

began to blame myself for not inviting him to the Master's house,

forgetting that the Master Himself had not done so. Every day I

meant to return to the Museum to tell the old man where the Master

lived, but I put off from day to day.

When, at the end of a week, I did run over to the Museum, I found

a young watchman there, who seemed to know nothing of the one he

had replaced.
Had our friend "gone upstairs?"
Why had the Master visited a Museum of Natural

History in the hottest hour of a blistering July day? Had He

instead visited a soul whose need was crying out to Him, to open

an old man's eyes so that he might see to climb the stairs, to take

away the dread of death?[123]
__________

On the tenth of July, I went to the Master in the early morning

with something in my heart to say, but already there were people

with Him and I saw no chance of talking privately.

"Come, Juliet, sit by Me," He called as I entered the room. "Now,

speak."
How could I, before those people? I hesitated.

"All your hopes and desires are destined to be fulfilled," He said,

"in the Kingdom of God."
This was my cue.

"I came to tell You, my Lord, that now I have only one desire, to

offer my heart for Your service."

"This you will also do, but all your desires will be fulfilled."

He kept me to lunch that day. While we were waiting in the English

basement for the lunch to be announced, Valiyu'llah Khan and I

alone with the Master, He spoke again of my "truthfulness".

"Oh," I prayed, "may I some day have all the virtues so that in

every way I can make you happy."

"But he who possesses truthfulness possesses all the virtues," said

the Master. Then He went on to tell us a story. "There was once a

disciple of Muhammad who

asked of another disciple, 'What shall I do to please God?' And the

other disciple replied: 'Do not kill. Do not steal. Do not covet,'

etc., etc., etc. A great many 'do nots'." the Master laughed. "He

asked still another, 'What shall I do to become nearer to God?' And

this one said: 'You must supplicate and pray. You must be generous.

You must be courageous,' etc., etc., etc. Then the disciple went

to 'Ali. 'What do you say I should do in order to please God and

to become nearer to Him?' 'One thing only: be truthful.'

"For," continued the Master, "if you are truthful, you cannot

commit murder. You would have to confess it! Neither can you steal.

You would have to confess it. So, if one is truthful, he possesses

all the virtues.

"I may tell you this," He said to me, and He told me a thing so

wonderful that, even to keep and cherish His words and read them

over in the time to come, I cannot repeat it here.

"My Lord," I said, "if ever I have told You an untruth it was

because I deceived myself."

"There are degrees of truth," He answered, "but that word of yours

which has so pleased Me was absolute, perfect, extraordinary

truth."
__________

That night we walked with Him in "His garden"--Georgie Ralston,

Mirza 'Ali Akbar, Valiyu'llah Khan, Ahmad, and I. Dear Lua, who has

not yet left for California, was ill and unable to be with us.

He led us down a path sloping to the river, flanked by tall

poplars. Sweeping on ahead in His gleaming white robes, He was like

a spirit. The night was very dark, the river and the Jersey

Palisades starred and glittering with lights and there were chains

of lights close to the water.

With a wave of the hand towards them He said: "If only the souls

of men could be thus illumined."

"It is You, my Lord," I said, as I followed close with Valiyu'llah

Khan and Ahmad, "Who put a torch to our souls and light them."

Suddenly out from behind the bushes rushed a crowd of children,

bursting upon us like little demons, capering around us and

hooting. Some of them even picked up stones and threw them. Then

they all began to sing: "Follow the Lord! The Lord leads on!"

Back to us floated the voice of the Master: "The people of the

world are blind. You must have vision. The people of the world are

heedless: see how heedless they are!" and He swept His hand toward

the children, who immediately melted back into the shadows as if

they had never really existed. "You must be aware. The people of

the world are steeped in darkness. You must be immersed in a sea

of light."

We went deep down in the park, close to the river; then turned,

climbed a path, and came out upon the street. Here there was a

stone wall, dividing the park from the sidewalk. The Master leaned

wearily on the wall and gazed far below to the river. He seemed to

be lost in meditation, His face profoundly sorrowful. I thought of

a picture, a poster, which, in the early days of His visit, had

been displayed on all the church doors: the Christ mourning over

the city.

Soon He continued His walk. I turned to Valiyu'llah Khan.

"Oh," I said, "if only I could realize throughout the whole fibre

of my being, feel with every nerve, every atom in me, His Divine

Reality, if only while in His bodily Presence I could be fully

aware of Who He is ..."

He turned and spoke and His face was ineffably gentle and holy and

something in His voice pierced me to the heart. He couldn't have

heard me with the outer ear--I had fallen too far behind and was

whispering, and in English--but how He answered me!

"They laugh at Me, yet My dress is the dress of Jesus, just the

same that He wore."

The people of the world: children! Had the Master Himself evoked

those little demons and made a sort of moving picture of them, to

show us what is to come as we "follow the Lord" in the dark night?

__________

But the very next day another picture, of very different children,

was superimposed upon this.

I had been with the Master all morning. (Later I will write of the

morning.) In the afternoon around three o'clock I returned with

Rhoda Nichols only to meet Him just going out with the Persians.

He smiled, then walked swiftly toward the river, but Ahmad,

dropping behind, called to Rhoda and me: "Come along with us to the

Harrises'." We should have known better than to go, for the Master

had not invited us, but we couldn't resist the temptation. So we

followed up Riverside Drive, then West End Avenue, till we came to

Ninety-Fifth Street, where Mr and Mrs Harris live. A tenement house

neighbourhood.

As we approached Ninety-Fifth Street, there we saw them: the

different children. There must have been nearly a hundred of them,

playing in the street with their hoops and balls. But, when the

Master drew near, all shining white in His long flowing robes, they

immediately stopped playing. It all happened instantaneously. The

next moment they had fallen into formation and were marching down

the street behind Him (we had

turned east toward Central Park), some of them still rolling their

hoops. Without one word they followed, their little faces almost

solemn. They made me think of a real and beautiful Children's

Crusade.

We came to the house where the Harrises live and walked up five

steep flights, but when Mrs Harris opened her apartment door and

Rhoda and I saw a table inside set only for the Master and the

Persians, we backed away terribly embarrassed and lost no time in

getting downstairs. After all, we couldn't have foreseen a luncheon

at three o'clock!

When we opened the street door, there were the children again,

surrounding the house, silently looking up at it. A little

yellow-haired girl came running up the stoop to me. She seemed to

be the spokesman for the others. Breathlessly she asked: "Please,

ma'am, tell us. Is He Christ?"

I sat down on the stoop while the whole crowd of children swarmed

and pushed around me. "I will tell you all about Him," I said. Then

I whispered to Rhoda: "Go upstairs again, dear, and let the Master

know what is happening."

She returned with a wonderful message from the Master, an

invitation to all the children to come to a feast to be given

specially for them at the Kinneys' house next Sunday.

__________

And now just a word about the morning. Georgie Ralston and Mrs

Brittingham, Lua, and I were together in the Master's room. As I

sat there I felt something of the Mystery of His Divinity. The day

was very hot and His sleeves were rolled up and I saw on His arms

the scars of chains.
When the others left He kept me.

"I come to Your Presence, my Lord," I said, "to be cured of my

spiritual ills."

"Your pure heart," the Master answered, "is a magnet for the Divine

feelings."

He spoke of my mother and sent her some fruit. "Your mother," He

said, "is very dear to me. You cannot imagine how I love your

mother."
Then He laughed and asked: "How is Dr Grant?"

"I don't know, my Lord. I haven't seen him. I'm afraid I hurt him

the last time we met."
"What did you do?"
"I refused to go into his house with him."
"How is he with Us?"
"I don't know."
"I want to see him. Is this possible?"
"Yes, I am sure. I will telephone to him."

"Tell him I am longing to see him, longing to see him," repeated

the Master smiling.

I knelt and kissed His robe, looking up so happy, so grateful,

while He looked down and laughed at me.

That night I telephoned to Percy. "I am the bearer of a message to

you," I said, "from the Master. He asked this morning if I had seen

you lately and said He wanted to see you. 'Tell Dr Grant I am

longing to see him,' He said."

"That was very beautiful of Him. Give Him my cordial greetings.

Tell him how happy I am that He thought of me. I can't tell you at

this moment, Juliet, when I can go. I hope tomorrow afternoon. I

have a wedding at half-past four. After that, perhaps."

"Well, I will give you the Master's telephone number and you can

call His house about it, unless you prefer to have me arrange it."

"I should rather do it through you."

Saying he would let me know in the morning, he bade me goodbye;

then, "I give you my loving salutations."

The next morning, however, when he called me up, he was in another

state of mind. "Tell the Master," he said, "I have so many human

engagements just now. I am going up to Greenwich after the wedding.

(Greenwich is Alice Flagler's home.) "But I want to run in to see

you this morning, if I may."

I went to my room and prayed. I was on my knees when he came. Not

that he found me on them!

"To come straight to the point, Percy," I said, "I hope you will

go to see the Master."

"I'm going to see the Master, only I can't today."

"Oh that is all right," I said, brightening. "I didn't understand."

We talked about other things and then Katherine Berwind dropped in.

Percy spent the morning with us, leaving us for a little while to

return with bottles of ginger ale and grape juice which he mixed

into a drink for us. When he finally left about noon I followed him

out of the studio.

"What message have you," I asked, "for the Master?"

He swore! It was a very mild swear, but he coupled the Master's

name with it, so I can't repeat it.

"I believe you love Him," he said fiercely, "more than anything on

earth."
"I do."
"More than your art," he added quickly.
"But of course."

"Well, you shouldn't. With your talent, Juliet, you could do

immortal work. Do you never think of that?"
"I am thinking of His immortal work in us."
"He has done it, in you!"
"Not yet."

"Juliet, I have wanted to co-operate with Him. You know that. But

I don't believe He can do this thing alone."
"I believe He is perfectly able to do it alone."
"You do?"

"He changes the hearts and nobody else can do that. Well, what

message shall I take to Him?"

"Tell Him with my greeting that I will come up some time to see

Him, but I am out of town a great deal, most of the time, and--"

"Can't you do any better than that?" I asked.

"I want to do something for His comfort and when Mr Flagler's yacht

comes back I want to take Him up the Hudson. I will be in town

Friday, Juliet."

"Then come up on Friday to see Him with me. Please come. You know

I don't often persist, but this time--forgive me if I do."

"I think it is beautiful of you to persist in this instance,

Juliet." With the face of a martyr he kissed my hand. "I will come

Friday."
And, looking unspeakably miserable, he left me.
__________

On Friday in the afternoon he stopped for me. We were expecting the

Master in the evening--He was to bless our house with a visit--and

at the moment Percy arrived I was telephoning Marjorie, who had

offered to bring some light refreshment. Percy, sitting in the

living room, heard. But I couldn't invite him, for I knew it would

spoil Mamma's evening with the Master--she mightn't even come into

the room.

While I was putting on my gloves Percy produced a large and ornate

pocketbook. "Juliet," he said, "here is an empty pocketbook which

someone brought me from Italy. Will you accept it? I thought you

might have in mind some Oriental person to whom you would like to

give it."

When we started out he proposed going up in a cab, but I objected

on the grounds that it would be slow and we were already half an

hour late.

"I am bringing the Master down here at six and you would have no

visit at all if we took a slow cab."

"Well, for the matter of that, Juliet"--and his upper lip grew very

stiff--"any visit I might pay would be merely an expression of

affection and courtesy. As for all you could get from a visit of

this sort, where conversation must be through an interpreter and

`Abdu'l-Bahá will go off into a monologue on some subject that

interests Him--well, as I said, it is merely a mark of courtesy."

__________

I never saw his mouth so stubborn as when we entered the Master's

house. The Master was waiting for us, sitting in the bay window of

the English basement.

"Marhaba, Dr Grant! It is a long time since I have seen you, a long

time."

But His welcome was more reserved than it had been before.

"Well, Dr Grant," He said, after a moment, "what is the very latest

news, the very latest?"

Remembering Percy's remark, that the Master always indulged in

monologue, I couldn't help smiling at this.

"The latest news," said Percy with a wicked look, as

obstinate, pugnacious and self-confident as I have ever seen, "is

in the field of athletics."
"The Olympic games?" asked the Master.
"Yes," said Percy, surprised.

"You know," the Master went on, "that these games originated in

ancient Greece and it was a necessity of that time to develop the

body to its fullest strength, the nations being constantly at

warfare and the men wearing armour and fighting hand to hand. Heavy

swords had to be driven through coats of mail; bodies had to be

strengthened to endure the mail."

"But explain to the Master," said Percy, very much de haut en bas,

"that because of the people all centring in the cities and thus

depleting their constitutions, the necessity for physical

development is just as great now as it was then, though the basis

is different."

The Master answered with the utmost sweetness: "We do not deprecate

physical development, for the sound mind should work through a

sound body, but We think that the people of the West are too much

concerned with mere physical development. They forget the need of

spiritual development."

But Percy was bent upon argument. The development of the spirit,

he maintained, could not even begin till the body had first been

built up; and he looked so absurdly condescending, so pompous, so

sure of his power to defeat the Master, that I could scarcely

control my mirth. The Master did not control His.

"Man thinks too much of perfecting the body," He smiled

delightfully, "but of what use is it to him without the perfecting

of the spirit? No matter how much he develops his muscles and

sinews he will never

become as strong as the ox, as brave as the lion or as big as the

elephant! Physically he is an animal, yet inferior to the animals,

for animals acquire their sustenance with the greatest ease,

whereas man has to toil incessantly, to labour with infinite pain,

for a mere livelihood. So, in the physical realm, the beast is

nobler than man. But man is distinguished from the beast by his

spiritual gifts and these he should develop with the other, both

together. There should be the perfect balance, the spiritual and

the physical. A man whose ideal side only is developed is also

imperfect. We do not deprecate comfort. If I could find a better

house than this I would certainly move into it. But man should not

think of comfort alone."

I looked at Percy. He was still like a fighting-cock, ready for

another bout. He would never give in before me, I knew, so I

slipped quietly into the kitchen. When I returned the whole

atmosphere had changed. His face had softened, his stiff mouth

relaxed. As I entered the room the Master was saying: "When one

prays, one sometimes has divine glimpses. So, when one is

spiritually developed, a sublimity of nature is obtained, a

delicacy of vision such as could not otherwise be found. Not only

this, but tranquillity and happiness are secured.

"Do you think if it had not been for spiritual assurance I could

have been happy all those years in prison? Think of it, forty

years! You have just been telling me, Dr Grant, that forty years

is the average American life. I spent My American life in prison.

Yet all that time I was on the heights of happiness. Many believers

in Persia have been forced to give up

everything: their possessions, their families, and, in the end,

their lives, but they never lost their happiness.

"Remember Christ, when they placed the crown of thorns on His head.

At that very moment, as the thorns wounded His brow, He looked down

the vista of the centuries and beheld innumerable kings bowing

their jewelled crowns low before that crown of thorns. Do you think

He did not know, that He could not foresee?" (Again I stole a

glance at Percy. He looked utterly melted now and his eyes shone.)

"When they spat in the face of Christ," the Master went on, "when

they made a mock procession and carried Him around the streets, He

felt no humiliation."

Just then I rose to go, first asking permission, with my eyes, of

the Master, Percy was not inclined to go, even when we were on our

feet. In spite of that momentary softening--perhaps partly because

of it--he still wanted to stay and argue and I could hardly tear

him away.

While we were standing, he swung the master's divine subject to a

combative one, "the Occident versus the Orient": that was the

substance of it. And if ever I saw the Occident embodied, it was

at that moment in that man.

The Master leaned close to him and with the utmost gentleness and

patience tried to appeal to him. The people of the East, He said,

were content with less than the people here, so their hours of work

were shorter. He touched too on the absence of suicide in the

Orient.

When He spoke of suicide, and also while He described the

humiliations heaped on Christ, which could not humiliate Him, I had

a strange sense of impending tragedy for Percy Grant, of something

dreadful to happen

in the future in which he would utterly "lose his happiness" and

would feel humiliation, when perhaps these words of the Master

would come back to him.[124]

On the way down in the cab the Master talked about economics. "The

most important of the questions here," He said, "is the economic

question. Until that is first solved nothing can be done. But if

it should not be solved there will be riots."
Percy spoke of democracy.

"But your poor man," the Master replied, "cannot even think of

economics; he is so overburdened."

I asked Percy to tell about his work and when he had done so, with

some hesitation (for he seldom speaks of himself), the Master said

sweetly: "May you make peace here. May you unite the classes."

Whereupon Percy's face beamed.

But he steeled himself again and at my door he turned to go, though

I did invite him in, and the Master also said: "Are you not coming

in?"
"No, no," and he hurried away, with a huffy look.

I can still see the Master on my steps, so in command.

"Au revoir, Dr Grant," He said.

Percy had mentioned the yacht trip to the Master and asked if He

could make it the following Monday, but the

Master had several appointments Monday and could not accept for

that day.

"I will try," said Percy, "to get the yacht for Tuesday."

The Master had planned to spend the whole evening with us and we

were all to go for a walk, but the Persians had forgotten to

announce at the Seventy-Eighth Street house that He would be absent

Friday evening, so He felt He must return early.
__________

My Lord came into our house. The door was not locked. He opened it

Himself and walked up the stairs. It was His house. Mamma almost

ran to meet Him, her face suffused with joy, her eyes shy and

tender. The MacNutts and the Goodalls had arrived and Ruth Berkeley

and Marjorie, and were waiting in the second-floor living room. The

Master went in and greeted them with His wonderful buoyant

greeting; then I took Him to my room to rest and, after kneeling

and kissing the hem of His garment, left Him lying on my couch.

While He was resting Kahlil Gibran came. He had a private talk with

the Master in my room; then joined us upstairs in the studio, to

which we had all gone by that time, and in a very few minutes the

Master too joined us.

Mamma, with her own loving hands, had prepared the studio for His

reception and it was very beautiful, full of laurel, white roses,

and lighted white candles.

"What a good room," said the Master as He entered it. "It is like

an Oriental room--so high. If I were to build a house here," He

laughed, "I would build an eclectic house--partly Oriental, partly

Occidental."

Then we passed the refreshments and our Beloved Lord "broke bread"

with us.
__________

(Footnote. Of course I was terribly disappointed that the Master

stayed such a short time that night. A few days later I began to

see that this was no accident, that the changing of His plan for

that evening had not been just a result of the Persians'

forgetfulness, but that in it was a deep and subtle lesson for me.

A lesson in perception--or intuition--which is truth itself. I had

asked the Master whom I should invite to meet Him. "Anyone you

think of," He answered. "Whatever name comes into your mind, invite

that person." A few names came into my mind as if projected there

from outside. Percy Grant. At once I rejected that name, on Mamma's

account, as I have explained already. Mrs Krug. Oh no! Mamma wasn't

fond of Mrs Krug. Mrs Kaufman. No. Then I selected my personal

friends. Mrs Krug and Mrs Kaufman both were extremely hurt because

I didn't invite them and what harmony there was between us was

broken for the time being. As for Percy Grant ... !)

16 July 1912

Tuesday, 16 July, the day proposed for the yacht trip up the

Hudson, was a day of crushing disappointment. In the morning I

awoke thinking: Today great things may happen for Percy; miracles

may happen! Still, an instinct made me uneasy.

As soon as I reached the Master's house I asked if Dr Grant had

been heard from. No word had come, Dr Farid told me, and really the

Master ought to know in order to arrange His day's appointments.

"You had better telephone, Juliet."

I went to the corner drugstore and called the Rectory,

only to learn that Percy was still in Greenwich. I called him in

Greenwich.

"Oh, Juliet." He sounded bored. "I have been meaning to telephone

you all morning, but one thing after another has prevented. No, I

am sorry, tell `Abdu'l-Bahá how very sorry I am, but I cannot

arrange the trip for today. Mrs Flagler was in town yesterday and

it didn't agree with her and she isn't well enough to go today."

"I am very sorry," I murmured, so shocked I could scarcely speak.

"When does the Master leave New York?"
"On the twenty-second."

"On the twenty-second? I hope it can be arranged before them."

"I hope so."
"How did the supper go off the other night?"
"What supper?"
"The supper you had for the Master?"
"There was no supper."

"Why, I heard you talking about 'provisions' over the telephone

with Mrs Morten."

"That was only fruit and a cool drink. The Master just paid us a

visit. I asked you to come in."

"Well, I didn't feel that I could. I thought you were going to sit

around a table and that all those Persians you had asked would fill

it up, and that woman you invited at the Master's house. It makes

me shudder, Juliet, to think of all the money you spent that day."

"That was nothing."
"Oh, money is nothing, I suppose!"

"Certainly nothing compared with a visit from the Master." And I

said goodbye.

I went back to the house so ashamed I could hardly

hold up my head: miserably ashamed of Percy Grant, burning up with

indignation at his deliberate insult to the Master, to Him Whose

"dress was the same as the dress of Jesus", an insult levelled at

the Master, the real intention of which was to hurt me. Just a

petty revenge on me.

I gave Percy's wretched message to Dr Farid without any comment;

then stole off alone and wept.

Soon my Lord sent for me. I longed to unburden my heart to Him, but

Grace Krug and Louise were with Him and Grace was telling her own

troubles, speaking of some unhappiness of the day before, so of

course I could say nothing. I sat forcing back my tears, feeling

that at any moment I might burst out crying and that I mustn't do

that in His Presence for any other reason than love.

"And now," said the Master, still talking with Grace, "the sun is

out again! The sun is shining. I am glad of that. I do not like

clouds!"
Oh, what if I cry now, I thought.

"Winds from all directions: from the north, south, east, and

west--great hurricanes--have beaten against My Ark, yet My Ark

still floats." Smiling, He made an adorable gesture with His hands,

swinging them like a rocking boat. "One single wave has submerged

many a great ship, yet My Ark still floats!"

"Juliet," He said, turning suddenly to me, "is there anything you

want to ask Me privately? Biya! (Come)."
He led me by the hand into the back room.
"Now speak. Your eyes are all speech!"

"I only want to say that I am deeply ashamed for Dr Grant. Deeply

sorry. The friend to whose husband the yacht belongs is sick and

he could not get it for today."

"It is better so," said the Master. "I was wondering

how I could do it, for I am not very well today and must be in

Brooklyn this evening at eight o'clock. But I would have done it

for his sake. It is better; better," He ended, with a strange sweet

intonation, as He returned to the other room.
18 July 1912

Each day I drink deeper of the cup of Love. Yesterday the draught

I took was pure ecstasy. I saw Him for three brief moments only,

but those three moments were charged.

First, I saw Him with a few others--Mrs Helen Goodall, Miss Wise,

Ella Goodall Cooper--and He spoke to us of the kindness of God,

holding in His hand my rosary, which He has carried for several

days (the one Khanum gave me in Haifa). When we meet kindness in

a human being He said, how happy it makes us. How much happier we

will be when we realize the kindness of God.

Later He called to Him alone. I met Him as He came downstairs from

His room to the library. He was all in white.

"Ah-h, Juliet," He said. He began to walk up and down the library.

"Your mother sent me these things," (referring to some flowers and

another little present). "These things came from your mother? I

became very happy from them, but she should not have taken the

trouble."

"It made her so happy to send that little offering."

"But she should not have taken the trouble." He continued to walk

up and down. In a moment He said: "I am very much please with your

truthfulness, Juliet.

That matter between us, your truthfulness on that occasion makes

Me happy whenever I think of it."

"Everything in my heart is for You to see, my Lord. I only hope the

day may come when You will see nothing in it except the Love of

God."

He came very close and looked deep into my eyes with His brilliant

eyes.

"I see your heart," He said. "I look into your face and your heart

is perfectly clear to Me."

Again He paced up and down and it was then I knelt.

"Tell the Master," I said to Valiyu'llah Khan, "I pray that my

heart may become entirely detached from this world."

"Your heart," said the Master, pausing before me and gazing at me

with a face of glistening light, "will become entirely detached.

You are now in the condition I desired for you." He walked to the

window and stood, looking out. "I wish you to teach constantly.

Therein lies your happiness, and My happiness."
He came back to me. I had risen.

"I wish you to be detached from the entire world of existence; to

turn to the Kingdom of Abha with a pure heart; with a pure breath

to teach the people. I desire for you," He continued, resuming His

walk, "that which I desire for My own daughters, Tuba and Ruha."

With this He dismissed me.
__________

In the evening I returned to a wedding, Grace Robarts' and Harlan

Ober's, where the Master, for me, as well as for the bride and

bridegroom, turned the water of life into wine.

Grace and Harlan stood together, transfigured; they

seemed to be bathed in white light. Mr Ives, standing opposite,

married them. Back in the shadow sat the Master. There were times

when I, sitting at a little distance from Him, felt His lightning

glance on me. At the end of the service He blessed the marriage.

After this He went upstairs, to the front room on the third floor.

I soon followed him there, taking with me our coloured maid, Mamie,

and her little adopted son, George, a child six years old. Mamie

wanted to have the Master bless him.

On the way up in the bus I had (idiotically) asked: "Do you know

who the Master is, George?"
"No, ma'am," very positively.

"Well, you will know some day, for by the time you grow up the

whole world will know Who the Master is and then you will be so

proud and happy to remember that He blessed you."

The blessing the Master gave George was not an obvious one, there

was nothing ceremonial about it. He just took the child on His knee

and talked playfully with him and caressed him. But how it

impressed that little boy!

While we were going downtown in the bus, he rolled his big eyes up

at me and out of a dead silence said: "I know now, ma'am."

And when Mamie's husband, Cornelius, opened the door for us, George

rushed to him, crying out: "The Master blessed me, dearie, and I

will show you just how."

Then he clattered down the basement stairs and I was spared the

scene! I never did know how George demonstrated it--he couldn't

have taken Cornelius on

his knee!--but the next day Mamie told me of something else.

"Dearie," George had asked, "is the Master that blessed me this

evening the same Master that holds the moon in His hand and makes

the sun shine?"
"Go to bed, child," said Cornelius.

"But," repeated George, "is the Master that same Lord that makes

the sun shine and the rain come down?"

"The Lord that makes the sun shine," said Mamie, "is in the Master

that blessed you this evening, George. It was the Holy Spirit that

blessed you."
__________

(Footnote. 1947. Thirteen years later a handsome young man came to

my door. At first I thought he was Syrian. "Do you remember

George?" he asked. Almost at once he spoke of the Master. "I have

had a rough life among my own people," he said, "but the blessing

He gave me has lived like a fountain in my heart. It has protected

me through all my sufferings. It has inspired me with the resolve

to work for better conditions among my people. And," he went on,

"that other time when He spoke at a big meeting on the first floor

and you brought me up from the basement and stood me on a chair so

that I could see Him plainly, I thought He was God then and was

frightened." Then he described the Master to the minutest detail:

the colour of His eyes, His skin, His hair, even the two tones of

white in the turban He wore.

A few years ago, during the Second World War, I heard of George

again from his real mother. He was in England, practising medicine

and working with the wounded in the hospitals.)
19 July 1912

This morning I went as usual to the Master's house but was stopped

at the door by Alice Beede.

"Fly," she said, "after Mrs Goodall and Ella. They have your

rosary. The Master just gave it to them."

My precious, precious coral rosary--given to me by the Greatest

Holy Leaf! Given on a wonderful occasion, when a young carpenter

living on Mount Carmel had been healed of typhoid fever. Ruha and

I had climbed the mountain to see him and we were trying to help

his mother when Khanum and the Holy Mother arrived with a doctor.

The doctor went into the hut and the rest of us stayed outside,

Khanum sitting on the ground under a tree, praying on this same

rosary. It was dark by then, and very dark in that little garden.

Khanum was all in shadowy white, from her veil to her feet. When

she had finished praying, she glided like a spirit toward me and

threw the coral chain over my head. A few days ago I took this

great treasure to the Master. "This is the dearest thing I

possess," I said, "except Your tablets and the ring You gave me.

If You will use it, my Lord, it will be infinitely dearer."

I ran up the street after Mrs Goodall and Ella Cooper and when I

overtook them said breathlessly: "Alice Beede has just told me that

the Master gave you my rosary."
"Oh! Take it back," said Mrs Goodall.
But I had come to my senses.

"No, no," I answered. "If the Master gave it to you it is yours."

In the afternoon I went again to my Lord. He was sitting in the

English basement, in His lap a tangled pile of rosaries. I sat

between Ahmad and Edward Getsinger. The Master held up a rosary.

"To whom do I return this?" He inquired of Ahmad.

Edward leaned over to me and whispered: "That is the way your

rosary went."
"Oh no, it isn't," I whispered back.
"What did Juliet say?" asked the Master.
"It was nothing, my Lord, nothing," I said.
He smiled and the subject was dropped.[125]
25 July 1912

She Master is gone. Gone to Dublin, New Hampshire.

I shall never forget the day He left, day before yesterday. I went

up early to His house--but oh, too late! On the street I met Mrs

Hutchinson.

"The Master has gone!" she said, her eyes full of tears, her lips

quivering.
"When?"
"Twenty minutes ago."
"I will go to the station."

I jumped on a subway train and reached the station in a few

minutes. But nowhere did I see the Master and the Persians. I

stopped a porter.

"Did a party of foreigners pass through here just now?"

"Egyptians?"

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá in Dublin, New Hampshire]

"Yes!" There wasn't a minute to explain.
"Yes. Go to track 19."
But track 19 was deserted except for the gateman.

"Has a party of foreigners passed this way?" I asked him.

"Turks?"
"Yes."
"They are on the train."
"I supposed I couldn't go through?"
"Yes, go through, but come right back."

Smiling my thanks, I dashed down the platform. At one of the

windows in the train I saw a white turban.
"Could I get on the car?" I asked the conductor.
"Yes, get on. It's all right."
__________
"Ah-h, Juliet!"
"Goodbye, my Lord."

"Goodbye." He drew me down beside Him. "You should not have

troubled to come here," He said.
"My heart wouldn't let me do otherwise."

"I will see you in a month.[126] Give My greetings to your mother,

to all the friends; to Mrs Krug, Miss Boylan."

Closely, closely He pressed my hand, pouring the attar of rose of

His Love upon me. Then once more He said goodbye and I left.

It had been too bold, yet even against the rules every door had

opened to me.
__________

The last time I talked with the Master was the day before He left.

Sure that He was to leave that morning,

the twenty-second, I went very early to His house, with eight

palm-leaf fans in my hands. Mamma had sent them for the Master and

the Persians to use on the hot journey.

The master was sitting in the English basement at the window. He

called me to a chair opposite Him. "What are all those for?" He

asked, laughing, waving His hand toward the fans.

I laughed too, for they did look funny. I explained their purpose

and that they were from Mamma.

For a while I sat in silence before Him. Then suddenly I realized

that He was about to leave us, that in just a few minutes He would

be gone. I began to cry quietly.

"Tell Juliet," laughed the Master, "that I am not going today."

At this the sun came out! But soon by tears were flowing again,

this time because His love was melting me.

"Why are you crying, Juliet? I am not going today!"

__________

In the afternoon He called me to Him and I had twenty minutes alone

with Him and Valiyu'llah Khan. I sat with over-brimming eyes,

drinking in the Glory of His Presence.

"Oh Valiyu'llah Khan," I said, "say to the Master for me that I

know He is the Sun and I pray He will always encircle me with His

rays."

"You are very near Me," He answered, "and while you speak the truth

you will always be with Me. I pray that you may become the candle

of New York, spreading the Light of Love all around you."

After this we sat silent in His Presence, silent for a long time.

Once again He saw me when Marjorie came. He told

her she was my child, my "little chicken" and said we must comfort

each other after He has gone. Green Acre, Maine, 1947

If only I had written of Green Acre day by day while we were there

with Him! There are unforgettable things, but so many details,

precious details, have slipped away.

Mamma and I were in Bass Rocks when the Master's invitation reached

us. Bass Rocks, on a cliff above the ocean, was Mamma's paradise

and we could never afford more than two weeks of it. So, when

Ahmad's postcard came, with word from the Master that He wished us

to spend three days with Him in Green Acre, all she could think of

at first was that three days would be lost from her paradise!

"I won't go," she said.

"Oh, Mamma, an invitation from a king is a command, and this is

from the King of kings."

"Well, I'll go for just one night and no more. And I won't take a

suitcase. Just a little Irish bundle, so that we can't stay more

than one night."

So she packed our little Irish bundle: two night-gowns, two

toothbrushes, our combs and brushes and a change of underwear.

When we arrived at the Green Acre Inn the Master met us at the door

with His loving Marhaba; then He drew me into the dining room.

"She does not want?" He asked in English.

I couldn't tell the truth then, but of course He knew.

__________

Pictures come back to me. Mamma and I following Him down a path to

the Eirenion, where He was to speak

to the believers. He was all in white in the dark. Mamma whispering

to me: "It is like following a Spirit."

A tussle day after day to keep Mamma in Green Acre, in which dear

Carrie Kinney helped me.

A night when a horrifying young man came to a meeting at the

Kinneys' house. From head to foot he was covered with soot. His

blue eyes stared out from a dark grey face. This was Fred

Mortenson. He had spent half his boyhood and young manhood in a

prison in Minneapolis. Our beloved Albert Hall, who was interested

in prison work, had found him and taken him out on parole and given

him the Bahá'í Message. But Albert Hall was dead when the Master

came to America.

Fred Mortenson, hearing that `Abdu'l-Bahá was in Green Acre, and

having no money to make the trip, had ridden the bumpers [on

freight trains] to His Presence.

He came into the meeting and sat down and was very unhappy when the

Master, pacing back and forth as He talked, took no notice of him.

"It must be that He knows I stole a ride," thought Fred (who told

me all about it afterward). But no sooner was the meeting over and

the Master upstairs in His room than He sent for Fred.

Fred had said nothing to anyone about his trip on the bumpers, but

the minute he entered that upstairs room the Master asked smiling

and with twinkling eyes: "How did you enjoy your ride?" then He

took from Fred's hand his soot-covered cap and kissed it.

Years later, during the First World War, when the American

believers sent ten thousand dollars for the relief of the starving

Arabs, the messenger they chose to carry the money through the

warring countries was: Fred Mortenson. The Master declined the ten

thousand

dollars, relieving the Arabs Himself by His own hard labour. He

went to His estate near Tiberius and Himself ploughed the fields

there; then stored all the grain in the Shrine of The Báb.

For this He was knighted by Great Britain when British rule

replaced Turkish in Palestine. It was meant as an honour, but to

me it was like an insult. It nearly killed me after that to direct

my supplications to Sir `Abdu'l-Bahá 'Abbas.
__________
But to return to Green Acre.

One day the Master, speaking from the porch of somebody's cottage,

while the believers sat on the grass below, made this fascinating

statement: "We are in affinity now because in pre-existence we were

in affinity."

"Let's ask Him what He means by that," whispered Carrie to me.

So, in the evening, while the Master was in our room--Mamma's and

mine--and Carrie sitting there with us, I put the question to Him.

"I will answer you later," He said.
But He never did, outwardly.

In a minute or so Mamma, with that funny boldness of hers which

would sometimes burst through her timidity, said: "Master, I would

like to see You without Your turban."

He smiled. "It is not our custom, Mrs Thompson, to take off our

turbans before ladies, but for your sake I will do it."

And oh, the beauty we saw then! There was something in the silver

hair flowing back from His high forehead, something in the shape

of the head, which, in spite of His age, made me think of Christ.

There was another night, when Carrie, Mamma, and I and a few other

believers were sitting in the second-floor hall. Suddenly, on the

white wall of the floor above, at the head of the staircase, the

Master's great shadow loomed. Mamma slipped over to the foot of the

stairs and looking up with adoring eyes, called: "Master!"

And still another night. This was our third in Green Acre. Again

we were sitting in the second-floor hall, but now the Master was

in our midst.

"We must say goodbye tomorrow," Mamma said to Him.

"Oh no, Mrs Thompson," He laughed. "You are not going tomorrow. One

more day." and He laughed again. "You see, I am leaving for Boston

day after tomorrow and you are of My own family. Therefore you must

travel with Me."

And Mamma submitted now with a satisfaction wonderful to see. She

was proud as a peacock. "He said I was of His own family," she kept

repeating to me.

Once He called Mamma and me into His room and among other things

He said was this: "There are correspondences, Mrs Thompson, between

heaven and earth and Juliet's correspondence in heaven is Mary of

Magdala."
__________

(This diary, owing to the fact that it was written under

difficulties, has large areas left out of it. I find that I have

not spoken of what seemed then such a crucial thing--Lua's

departure for California. But since she was not at our house when

the Master visited us on 12 July, and my last account of being with

her is dated the morning of 11 July, I'm sure she must have left

the night of the eleventh.

I have just one story to tell of Lua, with the Master, in

California. I want to tell it for two reasons. First: because of

its value and also its humour; then because another version of it

is still being told by the believers, less direct and much less

like the Master. This is how I had it from Lua herself.

She and Georgie Ralston (who had gone with Lua to California) were

driving one day with the Master, when He closed His eyes and

apparently feel asleep. Lua and Georgie talked on, I imagine about

their own concerns, for suddenly His eyes sprang open and He

laughed.

"I, me, my, mine: words of the Devil!" He said.) New York

November 1912
The Master is here again!

I met Him at the boat last Monday, 11 November. I met Him alone.

And this is how that happened. At noon on 11 November, Mirza

'Ali-Akbar arrived from Washington to find living quarters for the

Masters and the Persians. I had had a wire from him earlier, asking

me to meet him at the station and to house-hunt with him, which I

did. The Master was to come at ten that night and we thought we had

plenty of time to notify the friends so that they could meet His

ferryboat, but later another wire came to our house, relayed to me

through Mamma and Mr Mills at Mrs Champney's (and luckily catching

me there), saying that the Master would arrive at eight. Through

a series of accidents, Mr Mills' chauffeur landed us first

somewhere in New Jersey and then at the Liberty Street station, and

there was no time to telephone anybody.

"This will be very bad," said Mirza 'Ali-Akbar, but we couldn't

help it.

We had accomplished everything else, had rented again the dear

house on Seventy-Eighth Street (Mrs Champney's) and found extra

rooms for some of the Persians.

Now, Mirza 'Ali-Akbar insisted on my taking Mr Mills' car and going

at breakneck speed to the Twenty-Third Street station to try to

meet the Master there, if He should come that way, while he himself

waited at Liberty Street.

I reached Twenty-Third Street just in time. The ferryboat was

approaching and very close to the dock. Standing at the end of the

pier, I saw it with its chain of lights. I saw Dr Farid. Then the

Master rose from a seat on the deck and entered the brightly lit

cabin.
Soon He came toward me down the gangplank.

"Ah, Juliet," He said, taking my hand in His and drawing me along

with Him, so that I walked beside Him. But He didn't invite me to

drive to His house with Him. Instead, He sent me back after Mirza

'Ali-Akbar--Dr Baghdadi and Mirza Mahmud going with me. We returned

all together to Seventy-Eighth Street.

Oh, to see Him in that house again, sitting in His old corner in

the English basement, the corner in the bay window!

__________

I had been very naughty with Mamma that day and had grieved her.

My precious mother was brought up in luxury, lived in luxury until

Papa died. She cannot get over her sensitiveness about our

too-apparent poverty and she simply won't have people to meals. I

had begged her to make an exception of Mirza 'Ali-Akbar, who was

arriving at such an awkward hour, and to let me bring him back for

lunch. But she wouldn't hear of it.

Whereupon I flew into a temper, told her what I thought of her

"false pride", and stamped out of the house.

Now, entering the Master's house with the three Persians, instead

of a welcome, I received a blow. The Master didn't even look at me.

"How is your mother?" were His first words. "Is she happy?"

Then He told me to go straight back to her but to return the next

day. I went back and comforted her with His rebuke to me.

__________

Early as I could on 12 November, I sought His Beloved Presence.

Ruth and Lawrence White (who have lately been married) were with

Him and Rhoda and Marjorie. It seems impossible sometimes for the

physical ear, or the human mind, to retain His Divine Words. They

moved me to tears.

"Don't cry! Don't cry!" said the Master, with His infinite

tenderness.

The twelfth of November, the Birthday of Bahá'u'lláh, was the day

of Mrs Krug's meeting and never, never shall I forget it.

There, at Mrs Krug's, the Master invoked Bahá'u'lláh. And as His

cry, "Ya Bahá'u'lláh!" rang out, I hid my eyes, for it was as

though He were calling Someone the same plane with Him, Someone

Whom He saw, and Who would certainly come.

He came--the Blessed Beauty, the Lord of Hosts. A Power flashed

into our midst, a great Sacred Power ... I can find no words.

Burning tears poured down my cheeks. My heart shook.

After the meeting, the Master, Who was resting in another room,

sent for me. I had supplicated through

Valiyu'llah Khan that He would come to the meeting at our house

Friday.

"Tomorrow, Juliet," He said, "I will tell you about your meeting.

Now go back to the house and wait till I come."

I did so and He soon came--came and sat in the corner of the window

in the English basement just as He used to last summer. Carrie

Kinney was there and Mr Hoar.

He had spoken so often in public and in private of an inevitable

world war, warning America not to enter it, that I felt moved to

mention it now.

"Will the present war in the Balkans," I asked, "terminate in the

world war?"

"No, but within two years a spark will rise from the Balkans and

set the whole world on fire."

Soon He rose and calling, "Come, Juliet," and beckoning to

Valiyu'llah Khan, took us out to walk in "His garden", that narrow

strip of park above the river. As we followed Him, Valiyu'llah Khan

said: "How blessed to be walking in His footsteps!"

He led us to a bench and sat down between us, clasping my hand

tightly. And then He began to ask me questions: question after

question about the believers in New York, as to a certain condition

among them, a lack of firmness in the Covenant, which I had never

suspected--of which I was really ignorant. Of course, I did know

that earlier there had been awful confusion--some teaching that

`Abdu'l-Bahá was like Peter, others that He was Jesus Himself--but

I thought that time was past.

"But I don't know, my Lord!" I said. "If I knew, I would tell you."

"I know you don't know," He laughed, "and I do

know. There are many things I know that you do not know. I was only

testing you. I have loved you for your truthfulness, for the truth

you spoke in a matter you remember. I wanted to see if your heart

were in the same state of truthfulness." Then He said: "With those

who are against the Centre of the Covenant you must not associate

at all. When you find that a soul has turned away from the Covenant

you must cut yourself off completely from him. You will know these

people. You will see it in their faces." (How on earth, I thought,

could I trust my judgement of the faces? He answered my unspoken

thought at once.) "You will see a dimness on the faces, like the

letting down of a veil."

"My Lord," I said, "I feel that I have failed in everything. I have

failed You in all my pitiful efforts to bring about unity. And I

know my failure has been due to lack of strict obedience."

"Obedience," said the Master, "is firmness in the Covenant. You

must associate with the steadfast ones." He mentioned three people

who, since His return--since I met His ferryboat alone--have

wreaked their displeasure on me, one of whom had even "scandalized

my name" (!) for several years; then added to the list--Mason

Remey. This was bitter! "You must be a rock, as they are rocks."

"My Lord," I asked, with a sinking heart, "am I not firm in the

Covenant?"
"You could be more firm," He laughed.
"Oh, my Lord!"
He rose and we began to walk.

"I had hoped," I said miserably, "that nobody loved You better than

I."
"I know you love Me, Juliet," He answered, "but

there are degrees of love." Then He told me He carried a

measuring-rod in His hand by which He measured the love of the

people and that rod was obedience.

At the corner, at the entrance to the park, He paused. "You must

love Me," He said, "for the sake of God."
"You are all I shall ever know of God!"

"I am the Servant of God. You must love Me for His sake and for the

sake of Bahá'u'lláh. I am very kind to you Juliet," He added.

"I know, my Lord."

"Now go back to your mother, so that she may be pleased with you!"

He laughed, and left me to wait for the bus.

But when He had crossed the street, when I saw Him stop for a

moment to speak to Valiyu'llah Khan, I sank on the chain of the

fence utterly broken-hearted.

Oh I am nothing, nothing, I thought. I have done nothing but fail

Him. Which was just what He wanted me to see, I suppose.

But, could it be that I was not firm? I examined my character: Yes,

it was unstable.
__________

On Wednesday, 14 November, I went very early to my Lord's house.

He was on the point of going out, but He called me to Him.

"My Lord," I said, as He paced up and down His room, "I want to

thank You for Your great mercy last night. I was asleep and You

woke me."

"I pray you may ever be awake. There are a few souls in America,"

He continued, "whom I have chosen to be teachers in this Cause. You

are of those, Juliet. I wish you to have all the qualities of a

teacher. That is all."

Then He asked me to wait till His return. I waited all

day. At five o'clock He came and called me to His room on the upper

floor. With that exquisite courtesy of His, the sweetness of which

almost breaks the heart, He--I can hardly write it--asked me to

excuse Him for keeping me waiting.

"To wait for You, my Lord, is joy. Oh these blessed days when we

can wait for You!"

He went on to tell me why He had been detained ...

__________

(The record of this last month must be sketchy. I cannot copy it

all, as it concerns other people, and conditions that are past and

best forgotten.
28 November 1912

It is Thanksgiving Day, and I am thankful--thankful and happy.

Everything that means my personal happiness, even every hope is

lost. My Lord has entirely stripped my life. But I pray that He has

freed my spirit.

On 15 November, the Master came to our house (48 West Tenth Street)

and gave a most wonderful talk in the front room on the first floor

to a great crowd of people who filled both the front and back rooms

and the hall.[127] I brought George up from the basement and stood

him on a chair, so that he could see the Master. He thought the

Master was God and was frightened.

Driving down to us with Mrs Champney, our Lord had said: "The time

has come for Me to throw bombs!" And He threw them in His talk that

night.

"I have spoken," He said, "in the various Christian churches and

in the synagogues, and in no assembly has

there been a dissenting voice. All have listened and all have

conceded that the Teachings of Bahá'u'lláh are superlative in

character, acknowledging that they constitute the very essence or

spirit of this age and that there is no better pathway to the

attainment of its ideals. Not a single voice has been raised in

objection. At most there have been some who have refused to

acknowledge the Mission of Bahá'u'lláh, although even these have

admitted that He was a great teacher, a most powerful soul, a very

great man. Some who could find no other pretext have said: 'These

Teachings are not new; they are old and familiar; we have heard

them before.' Therefore, I will speak to you upon the distinctive

characteristics of the Manifestation of Bahá'u'lláh and prove that

from every standpoint His Cause is distinguished from all others."

And in this address, which was one of His most powerful, the Master

certainly proved it. The address was taken down and will be

printed.
__________

On 18 November, at the Kinneys' house, the Master put Howard

MacNutt through a severe ordeal, an inevitable ordeal.

Mr MacNutt had been one of the few who, when I first came to New

York, had taught that the Master was "like Peter"--just a glorified

disciple. But for years he had never mentioned this point of view,

and I thought he had gotten over it.

In Chicago there are some so-called Bahá'ís who are still connected

with Khayru'llah, the great Covenant-breaker, and last week the

Master sent Mr MacNutt to Chicago to see them and try to persuade

them to give up Khayru'llah; otherwise he was to cut them off from

the

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá with His Persian entourage in the garden

of Howard MacNutt, New York, 1912.]

faithful believers. He--Mr MacNutt--wrote Diya Baghdadi that he had

found these people "angels", and did nothing about the situation.

He had just returned to New York and was to meet the Master at the

Kinneys' house that evening, 18 November, for the first time since

his unfruitful trip. I was in the second-floor hall with the Master

and Carrie Kinney when he arrived. The Master took him to His own

room. After some time they came out together into the hall.

An immense crowd had gathered by then on the first floor, which is

open the whole length of the house.

I heard the Master say to Mr MacNutt: "Go down and tell the people:

'I was like Saul. Now I am Paul, for I see."
"But I don't see," said poor Howard.
"Go down and say: 'I was like Saul.'"

I pulled his coattail. "For God's sake," I said, "go down."

"Let me alone," he replied in his misery.
"GO DOWN," commanded the Master.

Mr MacNutt turned and went down, and his back looked shrunken. The

Master leaned over the stair rail, His head thrown far back, His

eyes closed, in anguished prayer. I sat with Carrie on the top

step, watching Him. This is like Christ in Gethsemane, I thought.

We could hear the voice of Howard MacNutt stumbling through his

confession: "I was like Saul." But he seemed to be saying it by

rote, dragging through it still unconvinced. Nevertheless when he

came upstairs again, the Master deluged him with love.

By that time the Master was back in His room and as Mr MacNutt

appeared at the door, He ran forward to meet him. Our Lord was all

in white that night and as

He ran with His arms wide open He looked like a great flying bird.

He enfolded Howard in a close embrace, kissed his face and neck,

welcomed with ecstasy this broken man who, even though bewildered,

had obeyed Him.

The next night while Mamma, Miss Annie Boylan[128] and I were

together in the Master's Presence, Miss Annie Boylan brought up Mr

MacNutt's name and spoke gloatingly of his chastisement.

The Master sighed. "I immersed Mr MacNutt in the fountain of Job

last night," He said.
__________

The next morning, Sunday, 24 November, I hastened to the Master's

house. I knew it would be full of people, friends from other towns

who had come to attend the banquet and to be with the Master during

His last days here. I knew Mason Remey was in New York and that I

should have to meet him, perhaps this morning; and to face him

before the Master and all the believers would be misery. Our

engagement, in the eyes of the believers, had been the most ideal

romance:[129] I had seen many moved to tears by it, and when the

engagement was broken, every one of them had resented it, taking

up cudgels for Mason and putting the entire blame on me. As for

Mason, he had said: "I am an Indian. I never forgive."

For over a year Mason and I had avoided each other in perfectly

absurd ways. When I had to go down to Washington, I had written

him: "Please stay away from the meetings while I am there." (!)

Then one day, in Washington, when I boarded a moving, rocking

street

car, I fell backward on somebody's lap and turned to find myself

sitting on Mason's knees! I haven't seen him since and now, as I

approached the Master's house, knowing he would surely be

inside--if not at that moment, very soon--I wanted to turn and run.

Suddenly I saw that all this was nonsense and should be overcome

at once, before the Master's departure. An idea occurred to me. I

stood on the doorstep a minute or two bracing myself to carry it

out, to walk boldly up to Mason and say: "Let's go to the Master

now and tell Him we are friends again and want to work together in

the old way as a real brother and sister in the Cause." All at

once, though still a little shy, I felt eager to do this, to put

things right.

I opened the door, and there stood Marie Hopper, evidently waiting

to waylay me. She looked very mysterious, important and excited.

"Juliet," she said, "I must have a word with you. There is

something I have to do."

Then she exhorted me to marry Mason. She told me she knew the

Master wished it; she had "private information". The Master had

said I would "suffer" until I did marry him

"If I have to suffer," I said, "I prefer a respectable martyrdom!

I'd be nothing but a common prostitute if I married him. And I

can't believe, Marie, that the Master really said this."

May Maxwell came up at that moment, very earnest and starry-eyed,

to reinforce Marie.

"Very well," I said, "I will talk with the Master myself about it.

He is just upstairs, thank God, no further away than the top floor

of this house, and whatever He wants me to do, I will do."

I went up with Valiyu'llah Khan. But first I stopped on

the third floor and had a little private cry with Valiyu'llah.

Percy Grant was to come the next day to the Master--this would be

his last visit--and who could tell what would happen then; what

miracle might not happen; what change might not take place in him?

And now, Mason Remey looming up again!

We found the Master on the point of going out, standing in His

room, holding a big, white, folded umbrella. I knelt and He pressed

my head against His arm and took my hand in a tight clasp. "Speak,"

He said.

"Tell the Master, Valiyu'llah Khan, that I know He will laugh at

this, because I want to speak about marrying Mason. I have heard

from Marie Hopper that the Master wishes it. If He really does wish

it, I am ready."

"Na! Na!" (No! No!) said the Master. His eyes were twinkling and

the corners of His mouth quivering as though He were trying not to

smile. "It was this way," He said. "I never interfere. Mrs Hopper

came and told me that she wanted to unite you and Mr Remey. I said

'Very well, try.' But it is just as I wrote you long ago. Unless

there is perfect agreement--perfect harmony--love, these things are

not good."
I kissed His tender hand.

Needless to say, after this, I couldn't go near Mason Remey.

__________

On 20 November, the Master spent the morning in my little

room.[130] Once more His Glory shone in my room; His Life was

diffused in it. It is a sanctuary now to me, like a chapel in our

house.

He had brought Mrs Champney with Him and Mr MacNutt and, during the

morning, Mr MacNutt, who

was standing behind the Master very humbly, lifted the hem of His

'aba to his lips.

Mamma brought the Master some soup which she had prepared

especially for Him.

"I was just wishing for soup," He said sweetly. "You, Mrs Thompson,

have the reality of love."

Mamma then showed Him Papa's picture and He kissed it.

After a while He left us and was absent for some time. When He came

back He said: "I have been in every room in your house."

And when He bade us goodbye, as He swung down the stairs with His

powerful step, His voice rang out: "This house is blessed."

After He had gone I sat in the chair He had sat in and wrote an

appeal to Percy Grant: "I tried to reach you by phone this morning

to tell you the Master is soon returning to Haifa and that He

wishes to take His portrait with Him." (Percy had been exhibiting

it in the chapel of his Parish House.) "And to ask if some time

tomorrow I could come for it. I want to thank you too for your

hospitality to the Master's picture and for your beautiful

reference to it last Sunday, of which I have heard.

"You have given to many an opportunity to see at least a portrayal,

if a very weak one, of a dear face which I doubt if most of us will

see again. He is going back into dangerous conditions. Dear Percy,

will you let Him go without saying goodbye to Him? Only the other

day he was speaking of you."

To this I received a very stiff answer, merely asking the date of

the Master's sailing and His address.
__________

On Saturday, the twenty-third, the Master spent most of the day in

Montclair. When I went to His Seventy-

Eighth Street house in the late afternoon I was met with joyous

news. By staying over in Montclair He had missed reserving His

passage on the Mauretania and His sailing was now delayed! Also I

heard that Percy had telephoned and asked for permission to call

Monday.

That night the Master gave a banquet at the Great Northern Hotel.

May Maxwell, Marie Hopper, Marjorie, Rhoda, Mamma, and I sat at the

same table. Just before the food was served the Master rose from

his seat, a vial of attar of rose in His hand, and passed among all

the tables, anointing every one of His guests. As His wonderful

hand, dripping perfume, touched my forehead, as He scattered on my

hair the fragrant drops, my whole being seemed to wake and sparkle.

At the end of His talk[131] He said: "Such a banquet and such an

assemblage command the sincere devotion of all present and invite

the down-pouring of the blessings of God. Therefore be ye assured

and confident that the confirmations of God are descending upon

you, the assistance of God will be given unto you, the breaths of

the Holy Spirit will quicken you with a new life, the Sun of

Reality will shine gloriously upon you and the fragrant breeze of

the rose gardens of Divine Mercy will waft through the windows of

your souls. Be ye confident and steadfast ..."
__________

The following morning, 25 November, I spent with the Master. One

heavenly thing He said was this: "I have searched throughout the

length and breadth of this land for flames, I want the flames! The

solid ones are no good." Then He told me I was a flame. And He

spoke

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá in banquet at the Great Northern Hotel,

23 November 1912.]

beautifully of Mamma: "If I had a mother like yours, Juliet, I

would never deviate, even by a hair's breadth, from her wishes."

That night Mamma went to see Him with me. He was looking utterly

spent, but He insisted on keeping us--wouldn't let us go for at

least an hour.

In the meantime, at five o'clock, Percy Grant had come. The Master

was out but expected back any minute. He had had to address a

Women's Club early in the afternoon and from there was to go to Mrs

Cochran's. Through Valiyu'llah Khan, He had asked me to wait and

detain Percy. While I was waiting in the English basement, Carrie

and Mrs Champney with me, a taxicab stopped at the door; then in

came Dr Grant, very big and rigid, his black clerical broadcloth

and his white clerical collar firmly moulded around him.

Soon the Master returned. I can still see that Figure entering the

room like a mighty Eastern king, in His long green 'aba, edged with

white fur, His white turban; I can see His outstretched arms, His

divinely sweet smile; can hear the music of His voice: that long

"Oh-h! Oh-h!" of welcome. "Oh-h! Oh-h!, Dr Grant!" as though to

meet Dr Grant were the most delectable thing on earth.

Then He took Percy's hand and held it, never letting it go while

I saw them together, and began to talk smilingly to him.

"You must excuse me for keeping you waiting, Dr Grant. I am very,

very sorry to have kept you waiting, very sorry. But I was captured

by three hundred women this afternoon. Is it not a dreadful thing

to be captured by so many women? (At this I felt wickedly amused.)

"The women in America dominate the men," the Master continued.

"Come upstairs with Me." And still

holding Percy by the hand, with the lightness of a spirit He led

him up the first flight. I shall never cease to see those two

figures. The King of the East--and the West--in the garments of an

Eastern king, leading the way to an upper chamber; the resistant

clergyman, hardened into his clerical clothes, stiffly following,

pulled up the stairs by a too strong hand.

But when Percy came down, after a very long time, his whole face

was changed. His eyes were like burning stars, his mouth softened,

relaxed. He grasped my hand and pressed it. "May I take you home,

Juliet?"
"Thanks, Percy, I am staying here for a while."

Soon after he left, Dr Farid rushed down the stairs to me.

"There is hope--great hope," he said. "He was a changed man today.

Entirely different from last summer. He seemed deeply touched at

the thought of the Master returning into danger and asked if we

would cable him if any trouble should arise, so that he might do

whatever he could. He asked also if, from time to time, the Master

would send him news, 'through one of your humblest followers,' he

said.

"When he spoke of danger the Master replied that He had never

feared danger and told him the story of the Turkish Investigating

Committee sent to 'Akka by 'Abdu'l-Hamid. How the verdict of this

Committee was that He--`Abdu'l-Bahá--must die; that He must either

be crucified at the gate of 'Akka or sent alone to the desert of

Fezan, where He would inevitably starve. How at that time the

Italian consul, a friend, had arranged for a ship to be sent to

Haifa, ostensibly with cargo, but really to help the Master escape.

And how the Master had said: 'My Father, Bahá'u'lláh, never

delivered Himself, though He had the opportunity. From this

Prison He spread His Teachings. I, therefore, will follow in His

footsteps. I will not deliver Myself.'

"Then," Dr Farid went on, "the Master told Dr, Grant of the

hastening of the Committee to Turkey to lay its verdict with all

possible speed before the Sultan, but before they landed on Turkish

soil, 'the cannon of God had boomed forth at the gates of the

Sultan's palace.' 'Abdu'l-Hamid was deposed by the rising of the

Young Turks and `Abdu'l-Bahá set free.
"'So,' ended the Master, 'God delivered Me.'"

The miracle had happened. Percy Grant was "a changed man!"

__________
Not long was I allowed to cherish my hope!

The next day, 26 November, while I was waiting in the Master's

house, He sent Dr Baghdadi to bring me to His room. May Maxwell was

with Him and Dr Baghdadi remained. I sat on the floor at my Lord's

feet.

Smiling down on me, He said: "Why does Mrs Maxwell love you so,

Juliet?"
"Because she is my spiritual mother."

"In Montreal, when I was staying with her, she was always

mentioning your name and Lua's. 'Juliet, Lua. Juliet, Lua. Juliet,

Lua,'" chanted the Master. "That was her song."

"May and Lua, May and Lua," I smiled, "are the two dearest names

to my heart."
"This is well," said the Master.

May turned to Dr Baghdadi. "Ask the Master," she said, "if I may

be allowed to speak of something to Him." And when she had received

permission: "My heart is tortured at the thought of all the

children who are starving for love in these days. So little is

understood
[Photograph of Juliet Thompson and may Maxwell]

of the privileges of motherhood. The children are left to nurses

and brought up in blighting environments. I want to ask His prayers

for the mothers of America. Juliet," she whispered to me, "join in

this supplication."

I put my best foot forward to support her: "I should like to join

in May's supplication that the women may soon realize that

motherhood is their first function." But, even as I spoke the words

I saw how funny they were, coming from me--and that I had spread

a snare for my own feet, which I suspect May wanted me to do!

The Master smiled broadly.

"What are you doing advocating this, Juliet? Where are your

children? Mrs Maxwell has a child, but where are yours? If you had

married, you too could have brought children to me, one to sit on

each knee! A sterile woman is like a fruitless tree. Of course,"

He added, smiling again and quoting my words of last summer, "of

course you will say: 'What can I do with my heart.'"

"No, I won't say that any more," I answered. "You can do something

with my heart if I cannot. You can make me a new heart. And now,

since the Master has spoken of this," I said to Dr Baghdadi, "there

is something I should like to ask Him. Last spring and summer He

was indefinite with me about ... Dr Grant; perhaps, as I have been

thinking lately, because I wasn't strong enough to bear the truth.

But I believe I am stronger now and ready, at a word from Him, to

renounce this hope. Is it not to be fulfilled?"

"No," said the Master. "Otherwise, I would have told you."

For a moment we sat in His Presence silent. In the fire of that

Presence, in that little moment, my hope of twelve years melted

away. As it vanished, a miracle happened. The Being sitting before

me, now writing on a bit

of parchment held in the palm of His hand, changed from a body to

a sun-like Spirit. I saw Him translucent, luminous, and depths of

iridescence opened behind Him.

"Oh," I cried, tears coursing down my cheeks, "since that phantom

of a hope went, I have entered the Presence of God."

The Master said nothing. He was still writing, writing

mysteriously.

"May," I whispered, "do you remember that prayer: 'As the Pen moves

over the pages of the Tablet by which the musk of significances in

the world of creation is exhaled?'"

After a while the Master looked up. "I wish you to marry, Juliet,"

He said. "I wish you to bring Me children to hold on My knees. God

will send someone to you who will be agreeable to you."

What did it matter?

"May I ask one thing, my Lord? May I supplicate for Percy's soul,

that in the end he will see the truth?"

"We must always pray for him," answered the Master.

Mrs Krug and Carrie came in then. I hated to cry before them, but

I couldn't stop.

"Don't cry, don't cry," said the Master, as only He can say it.

"Oh, that Voice!" whispered May.

"No, no. Don't cry." This from Grace Krug, with a very disapproving

look.

"I seem to be in flames, my Lord--the flames of Thy love, Thy

Presence--and to be melting."
But He saw deeper. "Khayr," (no) He said slowly.
"NO!" echoed Mrs Krug.

"You must be happy," the Master ended, "because of this thing I

have told you."

As I said, this happened in the afternoon of 26 November. The

morning had been a tremendous one.

Knowing that my Lord would be at the Kinneys', I went directly

there. On the way up in the bus a great wave of tears, like a tidal

wave, rose from my heart (I didn't know why) and threatened at any

moment to break over me.

I found the Master on the upper floor of the Kinneys' house with

the Persians, Carrie and Ned, Nellie Lloyd, and Mr Mills. The

Tablet of the Branch[132] was being translated under the

supervision of the Master. Dr Baghdadi and Dr Farid were working

on it, submitting it time after time to the Master before He was

satisfied with their rendering. I shall never forget His sternness,

His terrific majesty as He directed that translation.

The wave of tears did break as I listened and watched. I was shaken

beyond all control. Mirza Mahmud and Valiyu'llah Khan tenderly

tried to calm me.
7 December 1912

28 November, Thanksgiving Day, was to be a day of rest for our

Beloved Lord. It had been given out that no one would be received

at the house that day. So, when the telephone rang about noon and

Ahmad, at the other end, asked me to come immediately to the

Master, I felt so singled out and privileged! And to be alone with

Him and the Persians--that would be something important, something

wonderful.

But He met me with a grave, almost stern face. And

with a command which at once banished my complacent hope. Swiftly

crossing His room to the door where I stood, He said, without even

a greeting: "Mrs May Maxwell is sick. I want you to go with some

medicine to her and to spend the afternoon taking care of her." He

walked back to the window, beckoning me to follow Him. Then He

picked up a glass from His table and a bottle of rosewater. "Give

her this," He said. "Pour out so much," (He poured about an inch

into the glass) "and so much water. Put in some sugar, the sugar

of your love. Drink this yourself." He gave me the glass He had

been preparing, for my cure, and, looking pointedly at me, began

to pray.
"Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!"

Feeling strangely numb, I said, as I drank the rosewater: "Ya

Baha'u'l-Abha!"
He turned to the window and looked out.
"Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!"
"Ya Baha'u'l-Abha," I echoed.

Again and again He repeated the Greatest Name and I repeated it

after Him, praying with Him.

At last He said: "Now go to Mrs May Maxwell. Telephone your mother

that I have sent you to her as she is sick, to spend the afternoon

with her."

Then He bowed, still grave, and I left Him, the bottle of rosewater

in my hand.
__________

(Footnote. 1947. Years later I was to see the meaning of this and

that I had utterly failed in administering the "medicine". Mrs May

Maxwell wouldn't drink it; she said I had put too much sugar in it.

I loved her with a personal love. It never rose to the heights of

an all-forgiving love, and so I

couldn't overcome that strange vein of cruelty in the love I think

she felt for me. We were still divided when she died. This was one

of my great failures.

Another significant thing: Nine years after that date, on 28

November 1921, our Beloved Lord ascended. Could this have been the

reason, with His pre-vision, that He spent that day in 1912 in

solitude?)
__________

Within the next day or two, Mrs May Maxwell and I were together in

His Presence. "Am I spiritually sick, my Lord?" she asked. "For I

was not physically sick the day you sent me the rosewater."

"Yes," He answered gently, "you are spiritually sick. Had you been

physically sick I would have sent you a doctor instead of Juliet."

__________

On 29 November, May Maxwell, Dorothea Spinney, and I were with the

Master when Esther Foster came in. May, Miss Spinney, and I rose.

"All of you may stay," said the Master, "on the condition that

Juliet doesn't cry."

I tried so hard after that to squeeze back the tears, but I

couldn't. I wiped them away furtively as they trickled down one by

one.

He kept us with Him an hour. Dorothea Spinney--an Englishwoman and

a Theosophist--spoke of a vision she had had while meditating. She

has seen a great globe of fire which she seemed to know was "the

Centre of Peace".

"I should like to understand this," she said. "What, or Who is the

Centre of Peace?"

The Master had been writing on a piece of parchment held in the

palm of His hand. He continued to write, not looking up, leaving

Miss Spinney's question in the air.

And all the time He glowed more and more, like the sun dispersing

clouds, pulsing out with every breath intenser light.

"Look at His Face," I whispered to Miss Spinney, "and see the

Centre of Peace."

By and by He spoke: "Excuse me for writing," He said, "it was very

important. You asked me concerning visions. Sometimes the thought

becomes abstracted, enters the World of Reality, and there makes

discoveries."

Then He rose and began to pace up and down and discovered that I

was crying.

"Oh my Lord," I cried, in a panic, "what are You going to do with

me?"

"I am going to find a Mister for you," He laughed.

__________

Those last meetings in the Kinneys' house. Those divine talks of

the Good Shepherd leaving His flock for a while: too tender, too

sad for the heart to bear.[133]

One day, however, He was very stern. Holding the book of the Hidden

Words in His hand, walking back and forth with that step which

always makes me think of the prophecy, "Who is this that cometh

from Bozrah, Who treadeth the wine-press in His fury?" lifting the

Hidden Words high, He said: "Whosoever does not live up to these

Words is not of Me."
__________

Mr Howard Colby Ives accepted the Cause in those days. Mrs Moore

accepted. Touched to the core of their beings they would sit with

streaming eyes in the meetings.

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá with the Kinney family in their home in

New York.]
At last came the day before He sailed.

"May I stay in some corner of this house all day," I asked, "that

I may breathe the same air with You this last day?"

"What does your mother say about it?"--laughing.
"She said I might."
"Very well."

In the afternoon He called me. He kept me in the room a long, long

time, seeing many others while I sat there. When He had dismissed

them all, He came close to me and took my hand.

"There is a matter," He said, "about which I want to speak to you.

The photographs of the portrait you painted of Me, you have offered

them for the Mashriqu'l-Adhkar. I know your circumstances, Juliet.

You have not complained to Me, you have said nothing, but I know

them. I know your affairs are in confusion, that you have debts,

that you have that house, that you have to take care of your

mother. Now I want you to keep the money" (for the photographs)

"for yourself. No, no; do not feel unhappy," (as I began to cry)

"this is best. You must do exactly as I say. I will speak about

this Myself to the believers. I will tell them," He laughed, "that

is it My command."
I thanked Him brokenly.

I can see Him now, pacing up and down the room in front of the line

of Persians, who stood with bowed heads and folded arms in the

Glory of His Presence, deeply aware of its Divineness.

Then Valiyu'llah spoke: "Juliet wants to know if You are pleased

with her, or not?"

(I had spoken out my troubled heart to dear Valiyu'llah.)

"I am very much pleased with the love of Juliet," answered the

Master.
My Lord, I pray that my life may please You."
"Insha'llah." And that was all!

"And that my services may become acceptable to You. I know I have

not begun to serve You yet."
The Master said nothing.

But that night He healed my broken heart, healed it by a tone in

His voice as He spoke to my mother, which was the essence of God's

tenderness, a tone unimaginable to those who have only heard the

human voice.

As Mamma approached Him to bid Him goodbye, He said: "Ah, the

mother of Juliet; the mother of Julie!" (Mamma's pet name for me.)

"I can't bear to say goodbye," said Mamma.

"Insha'llah, I shall meet you in 'Akka, Mrs Thompson, and there I

shall greet you with 'Welcome! Welcome!'"
This was on the night of 4 December.

He asked me to come to the Emerys' (where He had been staying for

a few days) the morning of 5 December, the day of His sailing; and

I was there at eight o'clock. That last morning. I stood at the

door of His room, gazing in, my eyes drinking their fill, if they

ever could drink their fill, of the Divine Figure as He sat, or

stood, or moved about the room.

He called me in twice. The second time He took my hand. "Remember,"

He said, "I am with you always. Bahá'u'lláh will be with you

always."

Carrie Kinney was there that morning and Ned, and 'Ali Quli Khan

and Florence, Edna Ballora and her husband, Harriet Magee, Mrs

Parsons, and Mrs Hannen. The Master had invited Mamma too, but she

had not felt well enough to go.

"Rest assured," He said when I told Him, "that she will be healed."

And He filled my arms with fruit for her.

We drove to the boat, then followed Him up to His cabin. Many

believers were crowding the cabin. Later we all went upstairs and

sat in a large room with Him. Very soon He rose, and, walking up

and down, delivered to us His last spoken message.[134]

First He described heartbreakingly the war now raging in the

Balkans. Then He said: "As to you: your efforts must be lofty.

Exert yourselves with heart and soul that perchance through your

efforts the light of Universal Peace may shine and this darkness

of estrangement and enmity may be dispelled from amongst men ...

"You have no excuse to bring before God if you fail to live

according to His Command, for you are informed of that which

constitutes the good-pleasure of God ...

"It is My hope that you may become successful in this high calling,

so that like brilliant lamps you may cast light upon the world of

humanity and quicken and stir the body of existence like unto a

spirit of life.

"This is eternal glory. This is everlasting felicity. This is

immortal life. This is heavenly attainment. This is being created

in God's image and likeness. And unto this I call you, praying to

God to strengthen and bless you."

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá leaving America on the Celtic from New

York City.]

He seated Himself again in a corner of the large cabin, all the

believers flocked around Him. I sat opposite Him at a little

distance, weeping quietly. A great fear had taken possession of me,

a question risen in my mind which must be answered or I should have

no peace--I should be left in a frantic state. I rose and walked

over to Him and stood before Him.

"My Lord," I said, "each time I have parted from You: in Haifa, in

Europe, You have said You would call me again to You. Each time You

gave me hope that I would see You again. But this time You gave me

no hope. Won't I see You again, my Lord?"
"This is My hope," He replied.

"But still You don't tell me, my Lord, and it makes me feel

hopeless."
"You must not feel hopeless."

This was all He said to me. It killed me. While I sat, weighed down

with despair and grief, He drew from an inside pocket the purse Dr

Grant had sent Him last summer, laid it on His knee and looked at

me. To me it seemed a promise that He Himself would take care of

Percy. And this was the very last.

It was death to leave that ship. I stood on the pier with May

Maxwell, tears blurring my sight. Through them I could see the

Master in the midst of the group of Persians waving a patient hand

to us. It waved and waved, that beautiful patient hand, till the

Figure was lost to sight.

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá--the last photo taken in America, 1912.]

(1947. Because of those blurring tears I could not see the look on

His face, the look of profound agony, as though He were on the

cross, as He bade His immature children farewell, foreseeing for

us so many sorrows, so many failures, and a world gone to pieces

because of our failures.

This look I have seen ever since in a photograph taken at that last

moment.)

Diary of Juliet Thompson: Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Notes

`Abdu'l-Bahá in America
25 March to 7 December 1912

To the attracted maid-servant of God, Juliet Thompson.

HE IS GOD!
O thou candle of the Love of God!

Thy numerous letters were received. According to the promise, by

the Will of God, I shall embark on the boat 25 March and in the

latter part reach Naples, where I shall stay a few days and from

thence start for New York.

Verily, this is great glad tidings. Upon thee by Baha'u'l-Abha.

(signed) Abdu'l-Bahá Abba. Translated in the Orient.

New York
Twelve o'clock, 25 March 1912

It is just midnight. TODAY the Master sails for America. I feel His

Presence strongly.
__________
Received March 25:

The Church of the Ascension. 5 Avenue and 10th Street.

23 March
My dear Juliet:

I understand that Abdu'l-Bahá is to arrive in New York 10

April--that is, in Easter week,--so that the 14 April would be his

first Sunday in New York.

If his friends in this city would feel any value or assistance in

having him speak at the eleven o'clock service in the Church of the

Ascension, in place of my sermon, I shall be more than happy to

invite him to the Ascension pulpit in my place. I should like to

show so important and splendid a person, and those who love him,

whatever hospitality and goodwill can be expressed in this town,

by such a plan.

If, however, his coming in the middle of the week means that he

ought to get more quickly into public contact with the city, which

may well be the case if his stay is brief, then I would offer the

Church of the Ascension to the committee in charge of his affairs

to

have any kind of service they please, in the daytime or evening,

between his arrival, let us say 10 April--and the following Sunday.

That is to say I make one of two propositions: to offer him my

pulpit Sunday, 14 April, at eleven a.m., or to offer the Church,

unhampered by any form of service, between the tenth and the

fourteenth.
Faithfully,
(signed) Percy S. Grant
__________

What will obedience bring forth, if half-obedience brings forth

this? I have refused all winter to see Percy Grant.

I wrote thanking him and asking him to get in touch with the

committee of arrangements, Mr Mills and Mr MacNutt.

__________

The Church of the Ascension. 5 Avenue and 10th Street.

28 March 1912
My dear Juliet:

I thank you for your nice letter about Abdu'l-Bahá. Whatever may

seem most agreeable to those having the matter in charge will be

altogether satisfactory to me.

Whatever I can do I hope you will allow me to do, to honour such

a distinguished visitor from the East--one so loved by my friends.

Believe me to be faithfully yours,
(signed) Percy S. Grant
8 April 1912

Little did I dream when I began this diary what I would write in

its closing pages! This morning I telephoned Percy.

"This is Juliet."
"Ah, Juliet."

"I want to tell you two things. First, `Abdu'l-Bahá is on the

Cedric and will arrive Wednesday morning. And--is your time very

full Thursday? For I think He will send for you almost at once."

"Wait. Let me get my card, Juliet. No, I have no engagements for

Thursday, except in the evening, and could come any time during the

day to see Him. I am very happy. I shall be very glad to see the

Master, Juliet."

"As soon as He arrives, someone will let you know."

I then brought up the second thing.

"I'd like to explain something," I said. "Has Dr Guthrie got into

touch with you?"
"No."

"Then I hardly need to explain. But it was this: Charles James had

heard some rumour that the Master was to speak in your church. He

mentioned this to Dr Guthrie, who immediately wanted to offer his

church, too. This morning a letter came from Dr Guthrie inviting

the Master to speak on the night of the fourteenth. I tell you all

this really to say that it was not through me Dr Guthrie heard of

your plans."

"I am a very easy person, Juliet, in misunderstandings."

"I know that."

"And I am glad Dr Guthrie has made the same offer that I have."

"No one has made the same offer you have."

It was then he repeated something he had said to Mr MacNutt; I

can't remember just what.
"That was beautiful of you," I answered.

"No, it was not. And Juliet: I don't want you to feel that this is

a favour. I want you to feel--to understand--that you have a

proprietary interest in the church: a proprietary interest; that

it is yours to give. The church is yours. The Parish House is

yours. The Rectory is yours.[88] We will ask the Master to the

Rectory and form little groups to meet Him. I don't want to bore

you, Juliet," (oh imagine him boring me!) "but I want you to feel

that it is yours, this house. Here it is, just at the end of the

street. Ask anyone to the Rectory, anyone you wish. You may

eliminate the Rector, if you would rather not have me here ..."

This and much more. He contradicted that last statement once. "I

want you," he said, with his appealing boyishness, "to come around

me again, Juliet." His voice broke. He stammered a little and

ended. "I am a tongue-tied person when it comes to strong feeling."

"I should like," I said, "to take you by the hand and lead you to

the Master myself."

"I want you to, Juliet. I don't want to do it any other way. I want

you to be there. I don't want to do it without you."

"Then we will meet on Thursday. We will see each other on Thursday

in His Presence. I think it will be beautiful to meet there."

"It will be the north and the south in His Presence, Juliet."

"The Master has loved you a long time, Percy, for your work."

"Some people say they are loved for their enemies, Juliet. If I am

loved, it is for my friends."
10 April 1912. 11:15 p.m.

Tomorrow He comes! Who comes? "Who is this that cometh from

Bozrah?"

This is a night of holy expectation. The air is charged with

sanctity. I can almost hear the Gloria in Excelsis.

How close He is tonight! Is it His prayers I feel? Why has earth

become suddenly divine?
Midnight
The Master comes TODAY!
11 April 1912
Oh day of days!

I was wakened this morning while it was yet dark by something

shining into my eyes. It was a ray from the moon, its waning

crescent framed low in my windowpane.

Symbol of the Covenant, was my first thought. How perfectly

beautiful to be wakened today by it! But at once I remembered

another time when I had seen the

waning moon hanging, then, above palm trees. I was on the roof of

the House in 'Akka with the Master and Munavvar Khanum. The Master

was pointing to the moon. "The East. The moon. No!" He said. "I am

the Sun of the West."

At dawn, kneeling at my window, I prayed in the swelling light for

all this land, now sleeping, that it would wake to received its

Lord; conscious, as I prayed, of an overshadowing Sacred Presence:

a great, glorious, burning Presence--the Sun of Love rising. This

fiery dawn was but a pale symbol of such a rising.

Between seven and eight I went to the pier with Marjorie Morten and

Rhoda Nichols. The morning was crystal clear, sparkling. I had a

sense of its being Easter: of lilies, almost seen, blooming at my

feet.

All the believers of New York had gathered at the pier to meet the

Master's ship. Marjorie and I had suggested to them that the Master

might not want this public demonstration, but their eagerness was

too great to be influenced by just two, and so we had gone along

with them--only too glad to do so, to tell the truth.

During the morning the harbour misted over. At last, in the mist

we saw: a phantom ship! And at that very moment some newsboys ran

through the crowd, waving Extras. "The Pope is dead! The Pope is

dead!" they shouted. The Pope was not dead. The Extras had been

printed only on a rumour; but what a symbol, and how exactly timed!

Closer and closer, ever more substantial, came that historic ship,

that epoch-making ship, till at last it swam out solid into the

light, one of the Persians sitting in the bow in his long robes,

'aba, and turban. This was Siyyid

Asadu'llah, a marvellous, witty old man, who had come with the

Master to prepare His meals.

He told us later that when the ship was approaching the harbour and

the Master saw, as His first view of America, the Wall Street

skyscrapers, He had laughed and said: "Those are the minarets of

the West."[89] What divine irony!

The ship docked, but the Master did not appear. Suddenly I had a

great glimpse. In the dim hall beyond the deck, striding to and fro

near the door, was One with a step that shook you! Just that one

stride, charged with power, the sweep of a robe, a majestic head,

turban crowned--that was all I saw, but my heart stopped.

Marjorie's instinct and mine had been true. Mr Kinney was called

for to come on board the ship. He returned with a disappointing

message. The Master sent us His love but wanted us to disperse now.

He would meet us all at the Kinneys' house at four.

Everyone obeyed at once except Marjorie, Rhoda, and myself!

Marjorie, who loves the Teachings but has never wholly accepted

them, said: "I can't leave till I've seen Him. I can't. I WON'T!"

So, though we followed the crowd to the street, we slipped away

there and looked around for some place to hide. Quite a distance

below the big entrance to the pier we saw a fairly deep embrasure

into which a window was set, with the stone wall jutting out from

it. Here we flattened ourselves against the window, Rhoda (who is

conspicuously tall) clasping a long white box of lilies which she

had brought for the Master. Just in front of the entrance stood Mr.

Mills' car, his chauffeur in it. Suddenly it rolled forward and,

to our utter dismay, parked directly in front of us. Now we were

caught: certain to be discovered. But there was no help for it, for

Marjorie still refused to budge till she had seen the Master.

Then, He came--through the entrance with Mr MacNutt and Mr Mills,

and turned and walked swiftly toward the car. In a panic we waited.

A few nights ago Marjorie and I had a double dream. In her dream,

I was out in space with her. In mine, we were in a room together

and the Master had just entered it. He walked straight up to

Marjorie, put His two hands on her shoulders and pressed and

pressed till she sank to her knees. And while she was sinking, she

lifted her face to His and everything in her seemed to be dying

except her soul, which looked out through her raised eyes in a sort

of agony of recognition.

Today, after one glance at the Master, this was just the way she

looked.
"Now," she said, "I know."

As the Master was stepping into the car, He turned and--smiled at

us.
__________

We met Him in the afternoon at the Kinneys'. When I arrived with

Marjorie, He was sitting in the centre of the dining room near a

table strewn with flowers. He wore a light pongee 'aba. At His

knees stood the Kinney children, Sanford and Howard, and His arms

were around them. He was very white and shining. No words could

describe His ineffable peace. The people stood about in rows and

circles: several hundred in the big rooms, which all open into each

other. In the dining room many sat on the floor, Marjorie and I

included. We
[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá holding a child.]

made a dark background for His Glory. Only our tears reflected Him,

and almost everyone there was weeping just at the sight of Him. For

at last we saw divinity incarnate. Divinely He turned His head from

one child to the other, one group to another. I wish I could

picture that turn of the head--an oh, so tender turn, with that

indescribable heavenly grace caught by Leonardo da Vinci in his

Christ of the Last Supper (in the study for the head)--but in

`Abdu'l-Bahá irradiated by smiles and a lifting of those eyes

filled with glory, which even Leonardo, for all his mystery, could

not have painted. The very essence of compassion, the most poignant

tenderness is in that turn of the head.

The next morning early the Master telephoned me (that is, Ahmad[90]

telephoned for Him) and nearly every morning after. Can you imagine

the sweetness of that--to be wakened every morning by a word from

Him? Sometimes He just inquired how I was, but often He called me

to Him.

When I first went to see Him He asked me only one question. "How

is your mother?"
"Not very well, my Lord."
"What is the matter?"

"She is grieving." And I told Him why. My brother is soon to be

married to a quite beautiful, brilliant girl who, however, doesn't

want to make friends with his family!

"Bring your mother to Me," He said. "I will comfort her."

He sent for her that very night. I was terribly afraid she wouldn't

go--she has been so opposed to my work in the

Cause--and Ahmad called up in the midst of a thunderstorm! But when

I took the message to her--that the Master wished her to come to

Him now--she jumped up from her chair and began to scurry around.

"Just wait till I get my rubbers," she said.

We found Him exhausted, lying on His bed. He had seen hundreds of

people that day, literally, at a big reception and in His own

rooms. Mamma, who is very shy and undemonstrative, rushed to the

bedside and fell on her knees.

"Welcome, welcome!" said the Master. "You are very welcome, Mrs

Thompson.

"You must be very thankful for your daughter. Praise be to God, she

is a daughter of the Kingdom. If she were an earthly daughter, of

what use would she be to you? At best she could do you a little

material good. But she is a heavenly daughter, a daughter of the

Kingdom. Therefore she is the means of drawing your soul nearer to

God. Her value to you is not apparent now. When one possesses a

thing its value is not realized. But you will realize later. Mary

Magdalene was but a villager; she was even scorned by the people,

but now her name moves the whole earth, and in the Kingdom of God

she is very near. Your daughter is kind to you. If your son is

faithless, she is faithful. She will become dearer and dearer to

you. She will take the place of your son. But in the end your son

will be very good. This is only temporary.

"I became very grieved today when, upon inquiring for you, I heard

of your sorrow. And now I want to comfort you. Trust in God. God

is kind. God is faithful. God never forgets you. If others are

unkind what difference does it make when God is kind? When God is

on your

side it does not matter what men do to you. But your son will be

good in the end.

"God is kind to you. And I am going to be kind to you. And I am

faithful!"

Mamma, still on her knees, bent and kissed His hand. "Tell the

Master," she said to Ahmad, "I have always loved Him. Lua knows

that." (If Lua knew, I certainly didn't.)

"I have no need of a witness," the Master answered, so tenderly.

"My heart knows."

The next day Mamma said to me: "All my bitterness has gone. The

Master must be helping me."[91]

It was on Saturday, 13 April, that Mamma and I visited the Master.

On Friday He had called me early, asking me to meet Him at the

MacNutts'.

I shall never cease to see Him as He looked speaking from their

stairway, standing below a stained glass window in a ray of

sunlight, the powerful head, the figure in its flowing robes,

outlined in light.

The Master has a strange quality of beautifying His environment,

of throwing a glamour over it and blotting out the ugly. The

MacNutts' house is ugly; the one redeem-

ing feature of that stairway, its window. All I saw as the Master

stood there was Himself, the window, the ray of light. His words

lifted my soul on wings!

In the evening Friday He spoke in Miss Phillips' studio. The

enormous room was packed. At his dear invitation I sat [on] His

right (I suppose because I had given Miss Phillips the Message);

Marjorie at His left near Him. In the simple setting of that

studio, its overhead light filling the deep forms of His face with

shadow, He looked ruggedly, powerfully beautiful. His words I will

not give. They have been kept.[92]

The very day He arrived, Thursday, the Master sent for Percy Grant,

but He appointed Friday to see him, in the afternoon. I was not

invited to the interview, so in spite of the happy arrangement

Percy and I had made, I knew I should have to stay away. Nor was

I told very much about it, only that the Master had planned with

Dr Grant to accept his church for Sunday (the fourteenth) for His

first address in New York, choosing the Church of the Ascension out

of thirteen other--and some of the clergy had even wired to

Gibraltar offering their pulpits for that date! And one other very

little thing (Mr MacNutt himself gave me this scrap of news): as

he was standing with Dr Grant at the elevator after leaving the

Master's suite, Dr Grant said to him: "You can't help but love the

old gentleman."

To me Percy put it more elegantly: "The Master compels one's love

and esteem. What He radiates is peace and love."

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá in New York in the garden of Howard

MacNutt, 1912.]

Saturday, 13 April, the Master spoke at Marjorie Morten's.[93]

Again, because of the crowd, He spoke from the stairway, dominating

all the beauty of Marjorie's long drawing room, with its rich

colour and carvings and masterly paintings, by His superlative

beauty.

His theme that day was the spiritual seasons, and in the midst of

His talk a delicious thing happened which, slight though it was,

I want to keep. In its very slightness it may draw the people of

the future closer to the Master, just as it drew us.

These tender little touches of His humour and simplicity, bridging

for the moment the infinite space between us and His pure

Perfection, making His Divinity accessible: how precious, how

heavenly sweet they are, of what unique value! The disciples of

Christ, looking beyond that awful chasm of the crucifixion into the

mystery of their days with Him, were, I suppose, awed into silence

about the little things--the adorable little things. So the Man of

sorrow has been just the Man of sorrow to us. We have never formed

any conception of the Man of love and joy, great buoyant joy; a

Christ whose Love overflowed into little tendernesses and Whose joy

overflowed into fun and wit--a happy, smiling, laughing Christ. And

yet I am sure He was that.

But now to tell of this small thing. With His celestial eloquence

the Master had described the spiritual springtime.

"Va tabistan," He began and paused for Ahmad to translate.

Dead silence. Poor Ahmad had lost the English word.

But while he stood helpless, the Master supplied it Himself.

"Summer!" He laughed. Whereupon a little ripple of delight ran

through the audience. His charm had captured them all.

After the meeting He went up to rest in Mr Morten's room. He had

seen a hundred and forty people that morning and was so worn out

at the end of His talk that He looked almost ill. His fatigue was

apparent to everyone--and yet the people had no pity. When I

returned from an errand to the kitchen, literally hundreds were

streaming toward His room; a dozen were in the room; in the hall

were many peering faces, and climbing up the stairs--a procession!

"Oh can't we shut the door?" I asked Dr Farid. But the Master heard

me.
"Let them come now," He said gently.

A mother with a Báby stood near the door. The Master took The Báby

from her and tenderly pressed it to His heart. "Beautiful Báby!

Little chicken!" He said in His dear English; then explained that

"little chicken" was the Turkish pet name for child.

A young single-taxer[94] began to question Him. "What message shall

I take to my friends?" he ended.

"Tell them," laughed the Master (that wonderful spicy humour in His

face) "to come into the Kingdom of God. There they will find plenty

of land and there are no taxes on it."
Sunday. Oh, Sunday!

At the Master's own invitation I met Him at the Rectory, a half

hour before the service.

As Miss Barry was holding her Sunday school class downstairs, we

were invited upstairs, to the back room on the second floor. There,

with the Master and the Persians and Edward Getsinger, I waited in

supreme happiness. Very soon Percy came in. Approaching the Master,

he bent his head reverently.

"In New Testament language," he said, "this would be called an

upper chamber."[95]
The Master smiled sweetly and took his hand.

After he left, the Master turned to me. "This is a dish you have

cooked for Me, Juliet," He laughed.
"I hope it is cooked all the way through!"
"Insha'llah," smiled the Master.

"I have more dishes to serve to You when You are rested," I

ventured.

"I hope they are light," He replied, "and will rest easily on My

digestion. Most of these dishes are so heavy!"

I inquired for dear Ruha Khanum, who has been very ill.

"I have put her in the hands of the Blessed Perfection," said our

Lord, "and now I don't worry at all."
He spoke of my mother very lovingly.

"Tell her to trust in God," He repeated. "Tell her that God is

faithful. Read the Hidden Words to her."

The time came to go to the church. The Persians, Edward Getsinger,

and I went first: marching in, as Percy had planned it, with the

processional, bringing up the rear of the processional! For nearly

a year I hadn't once entered the Church of the Ascension; and now,

what a very surprising return!
The Master waited in the vestry-room.

When I try to express the perfection of that service--I mean, the

arrangement of it--I can find no words. It was the conception of

an artist, of a true poet. The altar and the whole chancel were

banked with calla lilies. On the back of the Bishop's chair hung

a victor's wreath, an exact reproduction of the Greek victor's

wreath, classically simple: a small oval of laurel with its leaves

free at the top. Its meaning went to my heart.

Dr Grant read first a prophecy from the Old Testament pointing

directly to this Day, to Bahá'u'lláh; then the thirteenth Chapter

of Corinthians. These were not the lessons for the day but

specially chosen.

At the end of the Second Lesson, just as the choir began to sing

in a great triumphant outburst "Jesus Lives!" `Abdu'l-Bahá with

that step of His, which has been described as the walk of either

a shepherd or a king, entered the chancel, "suddenly come to His

Temple!" Percy Grant had quietly left his seat and gone into the

vestry-room and had returned with the Master, holding His hand. For

a moment they stood at the altar beneath that fine mural, The

Resurrection by John La Farge; then with beautiful deference Percy

led the Master to the Bishop's chair. (This broke the nineteenth

canon of the Episcopal Church, which forbids the unbaptized to sit

behind the altar rail!)

The prayers over, Dr Grant made a short introductory address,

speaking not from the pulpit but the chancel steps. Never shall I

forget what I saw then. Percy, strong and erect, with his

magnificently set head ("like the head of some Viking" as Howard

MacNutt says), giving, with a fire even greater than usual--with

a strange, sparkling magnetism--the Bahá'í Message to his congre-

gation; and behind him: a flashing Face, unlike the face of any

mortal, haloed by the victor's wreath, visibly inspiring him. For

with every flash from those eyes, which were fixed on Dr Grant,

would appear a fresh charge of energy in him. There was something

wonderfully rhythmic in this transmission of fire to the words and

the delivery of the man speaking. Was it the sign of some

susceptibility in this hitherto unyielding man to the power of

`Abdu'l-Bahá? Or was it just that Power: transcendent,

irresistible, quickening whom it chose?

"May the Lord lift the light of His Countenance upon you." Ah, what

happens when the Lord does!

How can I tell of that moment when the Master took the place of

Percy Grant on the chancel steps? When, standing in His flowing

robes there, He turned His unearthly Face to the people and

said:[96] "Dr Grant has just read from the thirteenth Chapter of

Corinthians that the day would come when you would see face to

face."

It was too great to put into words; it was almost too great to

bear. The pain of intense rapture pierced my heart. Could the

people fail to recognize? Oh, had they recognized what would He not

have revealed to them? But He could go no further. He swerved to

another subject.

"I have come hither," He said, "to find that material civilization

has progressed greatly, but the spiritual civilization has been

left behind. The material civilization is likened unto the glass

of a lamp chimney. The spiritual civilization is like the light in

that chimney. The material civilization should go hand-in-hand with

the spiritual civilization. Material civilization may be likened

unto a beautiful body, while spiritual civilization is the spirit

that enters the body and gives to it life. With the propelling

power of spiritual civilization the result will be greater.

"His Holiness Jesus Christ came to this world that the people might

have through Him the civilization of Heaven, a spirit of oneness

with God. He came to breathe the spirit into the body of the world.

There must be oneness in the world of man. When this takes place

we will have the Most Great Peace.

"Today the body politic needs the oneness of the world and

universal peace. But to spread the feeling of peace and firmly

implant it in the minds of men a certain propelling Power is

required.

"It is self-evident that spiritual civilization cannot be

accomplished through material means, for the interests of the

various nations differ. It is self-evident that it cannot be

accomplished through patriotism, for countries differ in their

ideas of patriotism. It is impossible save through spiritual power.

Compared with this all other means are too weak to bring about

universal peace.

"Man has two wings: his material power and development, and his

spiritual understanding and achievements. With one wing alone he

cannot fly. Therefore, no matter how far material civilization

advances, without the other, great things cannot be accomplished.

... Humanity, generally speaking, is immersed in a sea of

materiality ..."

Dr Grant asked the Master to give the benediction. Apparently He

gave no blessing but asked for one for us.

Against His high background of lilies He stood, His face uplifted

in prayer, His eyes closed, the palms of His

hands uplifted. I seemed to feel streams of Life descending,

filling those cupped hands. On either side of Him knelt the

clergymen, facing the altar. Percy Grant's head was bowed low. It

was a breathless moment. Then the Master raised His resonant voice

and chanted.

The recessional hymn was "Christ our Lord has risen again."

How can words tell what I realized, or thought I realized, at that

incomparable service?

This church had been my cross for years, from which I had never

been able to escape--though twice I had made the attempt, twice

wrenching myself away, only to be guided back by what seemed to me

in each instance the clear Will of God, expressed through a

striking miracle. Guided back to mortal pain. Was I seeing, this

morning, divine results of this pain?

And not only had I suffered more vitally here than in any other

place, prayed more passionately; not only had it been the scene of

my deepest inner conflict, but the cause of all this had been

dramatically enacted here. Here in this pulpit, with all his great

force, his disturbing magnetism and the fire of his eloquence,

Percy Grant had opposed my unshakeable belief, thundering

denunciations of "the subtle", "the Machiavellian Oriental" (God

forgive me for quoting this)--of the slumbering and superstitious

Orient--the Orient that brought to the West "nothing but disease

and death"--determined to conquer this Faith of mine which made me

resistant to him. He had even gone so far as to openly name "the

Bahá'í sect" in his pulpit and to warn his flock against it.

And now, framing that matchless head of the Master, who sat there

so still in His Glory, hung the victor's

wreath! Oh for words vivid and sublime enough to make you see Him

sitting there, in the very spot where He had been so violently

denied!

The Master took me back into the Rectory, into the big, dark front

room. Percy rushed in for a moment, still in his surplice, his

cheeks flushed, his eyes very bright and blue.

"Juliet," he called, looking in from the dining room, "ask if the

Master wants anything: tea, coffee, water--anything; then tell

Thomas" (the butler).

But the Master wanted nothing except to wait to see Dr Grant (who

was being detained in the church) and He filled me with

indescribable joy by inviting me to wait with Him, sitting beside

Him.

I sat there, happier it seemed to me than I had ever been in my

life. I was in the Presence of my Lord, and the one I loved best

in all this human world had at last recognized Him. For what else

had that exquisite service meant, with the Resurrection stressed

all through it? Such a bold acknowledgement, such a daring action

in the very church itself could not have been insincere. It never

occurred to me to doubt it.

But time passed and Percy did not come back. A great crowd arrived

before he did. Someone, using the private way from the church, had

left the door open and the people began to surge in. And then

(while my heart sank with disappointment) the Master made a swift

exit.

Too late Mrs Grant, Percy's dear mother, entered the room. It was

a dramatic entrance. She ran in, distractedly, glancing from side

to side, obviously looking for the Master. Not seeing Him there,

she exclaimed: "If only I could have had His blessing! That Figure

makes me think of the plains of Judea."

At that very instant Mr Mills, who had gone out with

the Master, reappeared. "`Abdu'l-Bahá," he said, "is asking for Mrs

Grant."

I stood at the street door and watched. The Master was sitting in

Mr Mills' car, just in front of the house. I saw Mrs Grant approach

it, kneel in the street and bow her head. I saw Him place His hands

on her head.

A year ago I had a dream. I was in the People's Forum, stooping and

kissing Mrs Grant. She looked up through tears. "I have seen the

Master," she said in my dream. "He spoke to me. Oh there was never

such a Face in the world!"

Now, on the steps of the Rectory, as she returned from the car, she

looked up through tears.

"I got my blessing, Juliet," she said, "and I didn't have to ask

for it."

I went back to the church to thank Percy Grant and found him alone.

His last parishioner had just gone. For a moment we stood with

clasped hands.

"You made everything so beautiful. I can't find the right words to

thank you."
"My darling," he said, "my darling--"

Something in his look--something false--woke me. Sick at heart, I

turned away.[97]

That night how I hungered to see the Master. My heart burned to see

Him. I went to the telephone. Ah, these days when just by a

telephone call we can reach Him! One of the Persians answered my

call.

"Is the Master well tonight? Is He resting?" I asked.

"He is in His room, reading Tablets."
__________

The next morning, through Ahmad, the Master telephoned me. He

wanted to know how I was.

"Tell Him my heart is burning for Him just as it used to in Haifa."

"The Master says: come at once to Him."

And scarcely was I seated in His room when He began to speak of

Percy Grant. He spoke with great love, with great appreciation of

the service Percy had rendered, but told me to be very careful in

my relations with him.

"You must keep your acquaintance, Juliet, absolutely formal."

Then He gave me this message: "Convey to Dr Grant My greetings.

Say: I will not forget the services thou hast rendered yesterday.

They are engraved on the book of My heart. I will mention thy name

everywhere. And know thou this: This matter of yesterday will

become most wonderful in the history of the world. The world of

existence will not forget yesterday. Thousands of years hence the

mention of yesterday will be heard and it will become history that

you were the founder of this work.

"I ask of God for you all those things I have asked for Myself and

they are: that thou mayest become a sincere servant of God and

serve in the Kingdom of God and become sanctified and holy; that

thou mayest find a pure and enlightened heart, an illumined face;

become the cause that the lights of spiritual morals may illumine

the hearts in this country and that they may be illumined in the

world of the Kingdom; become the promoter of Truth and deliver the

souls from ignorance and prejudice. I supplicate to the Kingdom of

God for you, and I will never forget the love that was manifested

yesterday.

"I hope," said the Master, turning to me, "that he will become a

believer, but I do not know. The rectorship of that church is in

the way. If he could give it up of his own volition, then he might

become a believer."

He spoke of my dear mother: "Convey to thy mother the greetings of

Abha. Say to her: Always remember My advices. It is my hope that

thou mayest forget everything save God. Nothing in this world is

sufficient for man. God alone is sufficient for him. God is the

Protector of man. All the world will not protect the soul."

I sent Percy Grant the message and later he telephoned me.

"That was a wonderful, wonderful message," he said, his voice

strangely upset.
__________

Early Sunday evening, the fourteenth, the Master spoke at the

Carnegie Lyceum for the Union Meeting of Advanced Thought

Centres.[98] I can give you no idea of His Glory that night. He was

like a pillar of white fire.

I sat in a box with Bolton Hall, one of our fashionable

intellectuals, a lean, elegant person with an Emersonian face.

Turning to him for a moment, I asked: "What do you see?"

"Nothing, dear child, nothing."
16 April 1912

This morning the Master agreed to speak at the Bowery Mission.

"I want to give them some money," He said to me. "I am in love with

the poor. How many poor men go to the Mission?"
"About three hundred, my Lord."

"Take this bill to the bank, Juliet, and change it into quarters,"

and He drew from His pocket a thousand-

franc note.[99] "Have them put the quarters in a bag. Keep the

money and meet Me at the Mission with it."

He handed another thousand-franc note, with the same instructions,

to Edward Getsinger.

As I left His room, lilies of valley in my hand, a young

chambermaid stopped me. "Did He give you those?" she asked. "He

gave me some flowers yesterday. Roses. I think He is a great

Saint."
__________

Later, May Maxwell and I were together in the Master's room. He was

lying back on His pillow, May's Báby crawling over Him, feeding

first The Báby, then May and me with chocolates.[100] On the pillow

beside Him was the victor's wreath, which He always kept near Him.

Suddenly He brought up Percy's name.

"I love Dr Grant," he began. "He has rendered Me a great service.

I love him very much, but I want you to be careful."

"My Lord, I believe my heart is severed," I said. "I don't know but

I believe so."

He looked at me with arch incredulity: "No? Really?" He said.

May laughed.
"What do you know about it?" the Master asked.
"May knows everything about it."

"Well, has she helped you? How far has her help gone? Has it been

sufficient for you?"

"She has helped me, but only God is sufficient when love has gone

as deep as that."
"I know. Now, can you transfer this love to God?"

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá walking down Riverside Drive in New

York, 1912]
"To God I can. To You."
"No. To God."
"Yes ... I can ... to God."

"That will be enough! I shall try to make no more marriages,"

laughed the Master. "When you have really given up," He added, "he

will come after you."[101]

"I love Dr Grant," He continued, "very, very much, but I want to

protect you."

"May I ask a question?" said May. "If Juliet put the thought of Dr

Grant forever out of her mind, would this be good?"

But the Master answered evasively: "If he would become a believer

and marry Juliet it would please Me very much."

"Don't we tire You?" I asked a little later. "Oughtn't we to leave

You now?"

"No, stay. You rest Me. You make Me laugh!" He answered.

18 April 1912

I asked Mrs Wright if she would invite Percy to hear the Master

speak at the Bowery Mission. His reply has just come through her.

He said: "Give Juliet my love and my excuses. Tell her I prefer to

be remembered by Him in the Church of the Ascension. Tell her this

and she will understand."
__________

Before writing of the Master's visit to the Bowery I must explain

how it came about. In February this year

Dr Hallimond asked me for the third time to give the Bahá'í Message

at the Mission. I had refused twice before because my dear mother

wouldn't allow me to go there. But this third invitation I felt I

must accept. So, for the first time in my life, I deceived Mamma!

Silvia Gannett helped me out. (By the way her marriage has been

postponed.) She invited me to dine, then went to the Mission with

me. The only thing Mamma knew was that I was dining with Silvia.

The weather that night was terrible: snowing, sleeting, bitterly

cold. The Mission was packed with homeless men, some of whom had

been driven in by the cold and the storm and were there for no

other reason. Among these, I learned afterward, was John Good--may

he ever be blessed! Wonderfully named was John Good! He had been

released from Sing Sing that very day: an enormous man with a head

like a lion and a great shock of white hair. From his boyhood he

had spent his life in one prison or another and now, in his old

age, had behaved so rebelliously in Sing Sing that they would

punish him in the most painful way, hanging him up by his thumbs!

Full of hate he had come out of prison, and full of hate and

without one grain of belief in anything, he sat among the derelicts

in the Mission, forced in by the storm.

And that night (knowing nothing of John Good) I was moved to tell

the men how `Abdu'l-Bahá came out of prison, full of love for the

whole world, even His cruellest enemies.

After I had finished speaking, Dr Hallimond said: "We have heard

from Juliet Thompson that `Abdu'l-Bahá will be here in April. How

may of you would like to invite Him to speak at the Mission? Will

those who wish it please stand?"
The whole three hundred rose to their feet.

"Now," added Dr Hallimond, taking me by surprise, "how many would

like to study the thirteenth Chapter of Corinthians with Miss

Thompson and myself?"

Thirty rose this time, including John Good and a poor alcoholic

named Hannegan, a long, lanky, red-haired Irishman.

"Then we will meet every Wednesday at eight p.m. and learn

something about this Love of which `Abdu'l-Bahá is our Great

Example."

And every Wednesday evening after that John Good and Hannegan came,

with the twenty-eight others.

Of course, in order to help Dr Hallimond on these nights, I had had

to confess to Mamma this first visit to the Bowery, and she was so

touched by the story that she gladly consented to my keeping up the

work, especially as Dr Hallimond always came for me and brought me

home.
__________

And now to return to the immediate present. Day before yesterday,

19 April, the Master spoke at the Bowery Mission.

I met Him in the chapel, dragging along with me the huge white bag

of quarters. Edward also appeared with a bag of the same size and

we sat behind the Master on the platform. Mr MacNutt, Mr Mills, Mr

Grundy, and Mr Hutchinson, and of course all the Persians, were

seated there too. The long hall was packed to the doors with those

poor derelicts who sleep on park benches or doorsteps.

Dr Hallimond called upon me to introduce my Lord, which seemed so

presumptuous I could scarcely do it.

Then the Master rose to speak. Here are His heavenly

words:[102] "Tonight I am very happy for I have come here to meet

My friends. I consider you my relatives, My companions, and I am

your comrade.

"You must be thankful to God that you are poor, for His Holiness

Jesus Christ has said: 'Blessed are the poor.' He never said:

blessed are the rich! He said too that the Kingdom is for the poor

and that it is easier for a camel to enter the needle's eye than

for a rich man to enter God's Kingdom. Therefore you must be

thankful to God that although in this world you are indigent, yet

the treasures of God are within your reach, and although in the

material realm you are poor, yet in the Kingdom of God you are

precious.

"His Holiness Jesus Himself was poor. He did not belong to the

rich. He passed His time in the desert travelling among the poor

and lived upon the herbs of the field. He had no place to lay His

head--no home. He was exposed in the open to heat, cold, and frost.

Yet He chose this rather than riches. If riches were considered a

glory, the Prophet Moses would have chosen them; Jesus would have

been rich.

"When Jesus appeared it was the poor who first accepted Him, not

the rich. Therefore, you are His disciples, you are His comrades,

for outwardly He was poor, not rich.

"Even this earth's happiness does not depend upon wealth. You will

find many of the wealthy exposed to dangers and troubled by

difficulties, and in their last moments upon the bed of death,

there remains the regret that they must be separated from that to

which their

hearts are so attached. They come into this world naked and they

must go from it naked. All they possess they must leave behind and

pass away solitary, alone. Often at the time of death their souls

are filled with remorse and, worst of all, their hope in the mercy

of God is less than ours.

"Praise be to God, our hope is in the mercy of God; and there is

no doubt that the divine Compassion is bestowed upon the poor. His

Holines Jesus Christ said so; His Holiness Bahá'u'lláh said so.

"While Bahá'u'lláh was in Baghdad, still in possession of great

wealth, He left all He had and went alone from the city, living two

years among the poor. They were His comrades. He ate with them,

slept with them, and gloried in being one of them. He chose for one

of His names the title of 'The Poor One' and often in His Writings

refers to Himself as 'Darvish,' which in Persian means poor. And

of this title he was very proud. He admonished all that we must be

the servants of the poor, helpers of the poor, remember the sorrows

of the poor, associate with them, for thereby we may inherit the

Kingdom of Heaven.

"God has not said that there are mansions prepared for us if we

pass our time associating with the rich, but He has said there are

many mansions prepared for the servants of the poor, for the poor

are very dear to God. The mercies and bounties of God are with

them. The rich are mostly negligent, inattentive, steeped in

worldliness, depending upon their means, whereas the poor are

dependent upon God and their reliance is upon Him, not upon

themselves. Therefore the poor are nearer the Threshold of God and

His Throne.

"Jesus was a poor man. One night when He was out in the fields the

rain began to fall. He had no place to go for shelter, so He lifted

His eyes toward Heaven, saying: 'O Father! For the birds of the air

Thou hast created nests, for the sheep a fold, for the animals

dens, for the fishes places of refuge, but for Me Thou hast

provided no shelter; there is no place where I may lay My head. My

bed is the cold ground, My lamps at night are the stars and My food

is the grass of the field. Yet who upon earth is richer than I? For

the greatest blessing Thou hast not given to the rich and mighty,

but unto Me Thou hast given the poor. To Me Thou hast granted this

blessing. They are Mine. Therefore I am the richest man on earth.'

"So, My comrades, you are following in the footsteps of Jesus

Christ. Your lives are similar to His life, your attitude is like

unto His, you resemble Him more than the rich resemble Him.

Therefore we will thank God that we have been blest with the real

riches. And, in conclusion, I ask you to accept `Abdu'l-Bahá as

your Servant."

After the service, the Master and we who were with Him walked down

the aisle to the door, while the men in the audience kept their

seats. At the end of the aisle the Master paused, called to Edward

and me and asked us to stand on each side of Him, with our bags.

He was wearing His pongee 'aba and was very shining in white and

ivory, His Face like a lighted lamp.

Then down the aisle streamed a sodden and grimy procession: three

hundred men in single file. The "breadline". The failures. Broken

forms. Blurred faces. How can I picture such a scene? That forlorn

host out of the depths, out of the "mud and scum of things"--where

nevertheless "something always, always sings". And the

Eternal Christ, reflected in the Mirror of "The Servant", receiving

them all, like prodigal sons? stray sheep? No! Like His own beloved

children, who "resembled Him more than the rich resembled Him."

Into each palm, as the Master clasped it, He pressed His little

gift of silver: just a symbol and the price of a bed. Not a man was

shelterless that night. And many, many, I could see, found a

shelter in His Heart. I could see it in the faces raised to His and

in His Face bent to theirs.

Those interchanged looks--what a bounty to have witnessed them--to

have such a picture stamped on my mind forever!

As the men filed toward Him, the Master held out His hand to the

first, grasped the man's hand and left something in it. Perhaps

five or six quarters, for John Good told me afterward that the

completely destitute ones received the most. The man glanced up

surprised. His eyes met the Master's look, which seemed to be

plunging deep into his heart with fathomless understanding. He,

this poor derelict, must have known very little of even human love

or understanding; and now, too suddenly, he stood face to face with

Divine Love. He looked startled, incredulous--as though he couldn't

believe what he saw; then his eyes strained toward the Master,

something new burning in them, and the Master's eyes answered with

a great flash, revealing a more mysterious, a profounder love. A

drowning man rescued, or--taken up into heaven? I saw this repeated

scores of times. Some of the men shuffled past, accepting their

gift ungraciously, but most of them responded just as the first

did.

Who can tell the effect of those immortal glances on

the lives and even, perhaps, at the death of each of these men? Who

knows what the Master gave that night?
__________

(Footnote. Months later John Good told me about Hannegan. Hannegan

was a generous man. If he had a dime and somebody needed a nickel,

he would split his dime. But, there was no doubt about it, he was

also a Bowery tough and pretty nearly always drunk. He had been

counting the days to the nineteenth of April but, unluckily lost

count, and when the nineteenth came and with it the Master's visit

to the Bowery, he was in one of his stupors. Waking up from it, he

really sorrowed. Still, there was another chance. The Master was

to speak in Flatbush the following Sunday and somehow Hannegan

heard of this. Flatbush is a long way off and that Sunday he hadn't

even a nickel. So he walked. At midnight John Good went to his room

and found him in the usual state. "Why did you do it this time,

Hannegan--and you straight from seeing the Master?" asked John.

"That's just it," said Hannegan earnestly. "I'm straight from

seeing Him. Why, John, He's Perfection. The Light of the world, He

is, John. It's too much for a man, too discouraging."

John never told me this till after the death of Hanegan, or I would

have taken him to the Master. But, after all, he--this Bowery

tough--had seen the Reality.)
__________

That night the Master had a supper for all who had been with Him

at the Mission. It was held in His suite at the Ansonia and He took

me and two of the Persians, Valiyu'llah Khan and Ahmad, in His own

taxi to the hotel.

As we drove up Broadway, glittering with its electric

signs, He spoke of them smiling, apparently much amused. Then He

told us that Bahá'u'lláh had loved light. "He could never get

enough light. He taught us," the Master said, "to economize in

everything else but to use light freely."

"It is marvellous," I said, "to be driving through all this light

by the side of the Light of lights."

"This is nothing," the Master answered. "This is only the

beginning. We will be together in all the worlds of God. You cannot

realize here what that means. You cannot imagine it. You can form

no conception here in this elemental world of what it is to be with

Me in the Eternal Worlds."

"Oh," I cried, "with such a future before me how could my heart

cling to any earthly object?"

The Master turned suddenly to me. "Will you do this thing?" He

asked. "Will you take your heart from this other and give it wholly

to God?"
"Oh, I will try!"

He laughed heartily at this. "First you say you will and then that

you will try!"

"That is because I have learned my own weakness. What can I do with

my heart?"

And now the Master spoke gravely. "I am very much pleased with that

answer, Juliet."
__________

That night I saw, as never before, the Glory of `Abdu'l-Bahá.

Nine of us were gathered at His table. He sat at the head, Mr Mills

on His left, I on His right. Just above Him hung a big round lamp,

so that He sat in a pool of strong light while the rest of us were

in shadow. In His

ivory-coloured 'aba over the long white robe, His white hair spread

out upon His shoulders, He was like some massive statue of a deity

carved in alabaster.

For a while He was silent and we surrounded Him, silent. But after

He had served the food He began to speak. He told us of the play

The Terrible Meek which he had seen that afternoon. It is based on

the Crucifixion.

"But such a representation should be complete," He said, and taken

from its inception to its consummation. It should be an

impersonation of the life of Jesus from the beginning to the end.

"For example: His baptism. The disciples of John the Baptist

turning to Him, Jesus. The dawn of Christianity. Then the Christ

in the Temple, well portrayed. The meeting of Jesus and Peter on

the shore of Tiberias, where Jesus called Peter to follow Him that

he might become a fisher of men. The gathering together of the

Jews. Their accusations against Jesus. For they said: 'We are

expecting certain conditions at the time of the appearance of the

Messiah and unless these conditions are fulfilled it is impossible

to believe. It is written that He will come from an unknown place.

Thou are from Nazareth. We know Thee and Thy people. According to

the explicit text of the Scriptures, the Messiah is to wield a

sceptre, a sword. Thou hast not even a staff. The Messiah is to be

established on the throne of David. But Thou--a throne! Thou hast

not so much as a mat. The Messiah is to fulfil the Law of Moses,

which will be spread throughout the world. Thou hast broken the

Mosaic Law. The Jews, in the time of the Messiah, are to be the

conquerors of the world and all men will become their subjects. In

the Cycle of the Messiah justice is to

reign. It will be exercised even in the animal kingdom, so that

wolf and lamb will quaff water at the same fountain, eagle and

quail will dwell in the same nest, lion and deer pasture in the

same meadow. But see the oppression and wrong rampant in Thy time!

The Jews are the captives of the Romans. Rome has uprooted our

foundations, pillaging and killing us. What manner of justice is

this?'

"But His Holiness Jesus answered: 'These texts are symbolic. They

have an inner meaning. I possess sovereignty, but it is of the

eternal type. It is not an earthy empire. Mine is divine, heavenly,

everlasting. And I conquer not by the sword. My conquests are by

Love. I have a sword, but it is not of iron. My sword is My tongue,

which divides Truth from falsehood.'

"Yet they persisted in rejecting Him. 'These are mere

interpretations,' they said. 'We will not give up the letter for

these.'

"Then they rose against Him, accusing and persecuting Him,

inventing libels according to their superstitions.

"'He is a liar. He is the false Christ. Believe Him not. Beware

lest ye listen. He will mislead you, will lure you from the

religion of your fathers, and will create a turmoil amongst you.'

"Then the scribes and Pharisees consult together: 'Let us hold a

conclave and conceive a plan. This man is a deceiver. We must do

something. What?'" (The Master gaily mimicked their confusion.)

"'Let us expel Him from the country. Let us imprison Him. Ah! Let

us refer the matter to the government. Thus the religion of Moses

shall be free of Him.'

"After this, the betrayal of Jesus, not by an enemy, not by an

outsider, but by one of His own disciples. Dr

Farid! (I was startled by the sudden, peremptory call of that

name.) "By one of His own disciples. Had you been there, Dr Farid.

Had you been there, you would have seen that Mary of Magdala even

looked like Juliet."[103]

"Then," continued the Master, "the government will summon Jesus,

will bring Him before Pontius Pilate, and these scenes should be

fully portrayed ..."

Here I ceased to take notes. I was stabbed to the heart. As He

flashed each scene to us with His vivid words and gestures I felt

that He was reliving it. When He came to that walk to Golgotha:

Jesus, the Saviour, stumbling beneath the weight of His Cross while

the mob capered about, bowing backward, mocking "the King of the

Jews," I knew He was telling us of remembered anguish.

"And when all this is finished," He said, "then the Terrible Meek

will be expressed."

The last scene centred around the disciples, united now and ablaze

with the Pentecostal fire. The Master described them surrounded by

multitudes, teaching with those "tongues of fire" that His Holiness

Jesus had verily been a King--the King of spirits, His sword the

Word of God and His reign in the hearts of men.

When the Master had ended we sat so silent that the falling of a

rose leaf might have been heard. He broke the silence.

"The voice of Mary lamenting at the Cross today made me think of

your voice, Juliet--and Lua's." And then He smiled at me. "Eat,

Juliet," He said. For the food on my plate was untouched.

__________

In the upper hall, on our way to the Master's suite, we had met the

little chambermaid who had told me the day

before that she thought Him a great Saint. In my bag were about

eighty quarters left over from the Mission. The Master asked the

girl to hold up her apron, took the bag from me, and emptied the

whole of its contents into the apron. Then He walked quickly toward

His suite, we following, all but Mr Grundy whom the maid stopped.

"Oh see what He has given me!" she said. And when Mr Grundy told

her about the Mission and the Master's kindness to the men there,

"I will do the same with this money. I will give away every cent

of it."

Later, when the table was cleared and we were sitting with the

Master in another room, talking of the scene at the Mission,

someone asked Him if "charity were advisable."

He laughed and, still laughing, said: "Assuredly, give to the poor.

If you give them only words, when they put their hands into their

pockets after you have gone, they will find themselves none the

richer for you!"

And just at that moment we heard a light tap at the door. It opened

and there stood the little maid. She came straight towards the

Master, seeming not to see anyone else, and her eyes were full of

tears.

"I wanted to say goodbye, Sir," she said (for the Master was

leaving for Washington early the next morning), "and to thank You

for all Your goodness to me--I never expected such goodness--and

to ask You ... to pray for me." Her voice broke. She sobbed, hid

her face in her apron and rushed from the room.

What an illustration to the Master's words, "assuredly give to the

poor," and how wonderfully timed!
22 April 1912

Oh, those mornings at the Ansonia in the Master's white sunny

rooms, filled with spring flowers and roses!

People poured in to see Him in droves, sometimes a hundred and

fifty in one morning. He would become exhausted and receive the

latest arrivals in bed. Sitting in the outer room (though

frequently called to Him), I would watch them go into His bedroom

and come out changed, as though they had had a bath of Life, or

like candles that had been lighted in that inner chamber.

Leonard Abbott came out with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. "That

beautiful head against the pillows!" he said.

Charles Rand Kennedy, the playwright (author of The Terrible Meek)

said: "I was in the Presence of God."

I, myself, took Nancy Sholl in. When we left, she whispered to me:

"I could not have stood the vibrations in there one moment longer.

Power encircles that bed!"
__________

Alas, New York has now lost the great overhanging aura of the

Master. He is in Washington. But I am going there too, tomorrow,

to stay with my dear Mrs Elkins.
Washington
7 May 1912

Washington was beautiful, the banners of the spring floating out

everywhere. Trees along the street in full leaf. Flowering bushes

and tulip beds in the parks and in the grass plots in front of

houses. The Japanese cherry

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá in New York with His entourage, 1912]

trees behind the White House, a long row of coral-pink clouds.

The day I arrived, 23 April, I met the Master at luncheon at the

Persian Embassy, where Khan is now acting as minister.[104] The

table was strewn with rose petals, as the Master's table always is

in 'Akka, and Persian dishes were served.

A coloured man, Louis Gregory, was present and the Master gave a

wonderful talk on race prejudice which, however, I will not quote

here since it has been kept.[105] And besides, I am longing to

catch up with these days, when I am feeling with all my capacity

for feeling, when the gates of my heart are flung wide open and

fire sweeping through, burning up my heart, when I am seeing

through tears the Manifest Glory of the Beloved. I really don't

want to write about Washington. This heart was not awakened then.

But He said a lovely thing at Khan's table which I must keep. Mrs

Parsons was at the luncheon. Before she became a Bahá'í she had

been a Christian Scientist, and now she brought up the question of

mental suggestion as a cure for physical disease. The Master

replied that some illnesses, such as consumption and insanity,

developed from spiritual causes--grief, for example--and that these

could be healed by the spirit. But Mrs Parsons persisted. Could not

extreme physical cases, like broken bones, also be healed by the

spirit?

A large bowl of salad had been placed before the Mas-

ter, Who sat at the head of the table, Florence Khanum[106] on His

right.

"If all the spirits in the air," He laughed, "were to congregate

together, they could not create a salad! Nevertheless, the spirit

of man is powerful. For the spirit of man can soar in the firmament

of knowledge, can discover realities, can confer life, can receive

the Divine Glad-Tidings. Is not this greater," and He laughed

again, "than making a salad?"

One more lovely thing. The servants were late bringing in the

dessert and Florence apologized; whereupon little Rahim, standing

beside her, spoke up.

"Even the King of Persia has to wait, doesn't He, mother?"

"Rahim dear," explained Florence, `Abdu'l-Bahá is King of the whole

world."
"Oh," said Rahim, very much abashed, "I forgot."
__________

After the luncheon, Florence and Khan held a large reception, to

which a number of very distinguished people came, among them Diya

Pasha, the Turkish Minister, and his whole family, Duke Lita and

his wife, Admiral Peary, and Alexander Graham Bell.

Between the end of lunch and this reception the Master went

upstairs to rest and to give a few private interviews. When He

reappeared among us, the two living rooms were already crowded. He

walked quickly to the open folding doors and standing there at the

centre, with a strikingly free and simple bearing, immediately

began to speak. His words too were simple and of a captivating

sweetness, a startling clarity.

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá with the children of 'Ali Quli Khan]

Diya Pasha stood next to me, his eyes riveted on the Master. When

the Master had finished speaking, the old diplomat (who is a fierce

Muslim) turned to me. "This is irrefutable. This is pure logic,"

he said.

A few months before, at the request of his daughter-in-law, an

American girl and a dear friend of mine, I had given Diya Pasha the

Message. I had had to give it in French, as he doesn't understand

English, and, my French being rusty by now, I'm afraid I didn't do

it very well: he looked so sceptical, almost contemptuous the whole

time I was speaking. But when I said that through the Baha'i

Teaching I had become a Muslim, and convinced him of this by the

reverent way I spoke of Muhammad, I really touched Diya Pasha. He

rose from the table, where we were at lunch, left the room, and

returned with a precious and very old volume of the Quran on

illuminated parchment and with a hand-tooled cover. "No Christian

eye but yours," he said, "has ever looked upon this."

__________

To return to the Persian Embassy. A delicious thing happened when

the Master greeted Peary, who has just succeeded in publicly

disgracing Captain Cook and proving himself, and not Captain Cook,

the discoverer of the North Pole. At that moment, in the Embassy,

he looked like a blown-up balloon.

I was standing beside the Master when Khan brought the Admiral over

and introduced him.

The Master spoke charmingly to him and congratulated him on his

discovery. Then, with the utmost sweetness, added these surprising

words: For a very long time the world had been much concerned about

the North Pole, where it was and what was to be found

there. Now he, Admiral Peary, had discovered it and that nothing

was to found there; and so, in forever relieving the public mind,

he had rendered a great service.

I shall never forget Peary's nonplussed face. The balloon

collapsed!
__________

Immediately after the Khan's reception, Mrs Parsons too had a large

one for the Master, to which Diya Pasha came with Him. I saw them,

to my great delight, enter the hall together hand in hand.

Mrs Parsons house has real distinction. It is Georgian in style and

in it has a very long white ballroom with, at one end, an unusually

high mantel--the mantel, as well as the ceiling and panelled walls,

delicately carved with garlands. At the windows hang thin silk

curtains the colour of jonquil leaves.

Here, after this first reception, the Master spoke daily in the

afternoon and the whole fashionable world flocked to hear Him.

Scientists too, and even politicians came!

In front of the mantel, a platform had been placed for the Master

and every day it was banked with fresh roses, American Beauties.

Into this room of conventional elegance, packed with conventional

people, imagine the Master striding with His free step: walking

first to one of the many windows and, while He looked out into the

light, talking with His matchless ease to the people. Turning from

the window, striding back and forth with a step so vibrant it shook

you. Piercing our souls with those strange eyes, uplifting them,

glory streaming upon them. Talking, talking, moving to and fro

incessantly. Pushing back His turban, revealing that Christ-like

forehead; pushing it forward again almost down to His eyebrows,

which gave Him a

peculiar majesty. Charging, filling the room with magnetic

currents, with a mysterious energy. Once He burst in, a child on

His shoulder. For a moment He held her, caressing her. Then He sat

her down among the roses.
__________

On Thursday, 25 April, the Master dined at the Turkish Embassy and

I was privileged to be there.

Never have I seen such a beautiful table. Hundreds of roses lay the

whole length of it, piled, melting into each other, sweeping up

from the head and the foot of the table to a great mound in the

centre, where the Master sat, faced by Diya Pasha. Florence Khanum

and Carey, Madame Diya Bey (Diya Pasha's daughter-in-law), the

American wives of Oriental diplomats, were placed on either side

of the Master and I sat next to Carey.

There are times when the Master looks colossal, when His Holiness

shines like the sun. That night He wore the usual white, with a

honey-coloured 'aba. Diya Pasha, opposite Him, watched Him with

eyes full of tears, his keen old hawk's face strangely softened.

The Master gave a great address on the civilizations built on the

basic Teachings of the Prophets; then He spoke of this dinner as

"a wonderful occasion". "The East and the West," He said, "are met

in perfect love tonight." There was something so poignant in His

words, so flame-creating, that for a moment I was overcome.

Later He spoke of the deep significance of the international

marriages represented there: Diya Bey's and Carey's, 'Ali-Quli

Khan's and Florence's. Carey made me very happy by saying: "Juliet

told me long ago of Your Teachings, when I was only fifteen years

old." What fruit that seed had borne, sown in a child!

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá with the Persian Consul-general for New

York and his household, Morristown, New Jersey.]

Diya Pasha made a thrilling speech. Rising and turning a lover's

face to the Master, he called Him "the Light of the world, the

Unique One of the age, Who had come to spread His glory and

perfection amongst us."

"I am not worthy of this," said the Master, very simply. Always a

great power is released from the Master's divine humility.

As I bade Diya Pasha goodnight, looking at me through a mist of

tears, he said: "Truly, He is a Saint."
__________

One day Mrs Elkins invited the Master to drive with us and we went

to the Soldiers' Home. The Elkinses, because of Katharine's

engagement to the Duke of the Abruzzi, have been terribly hounded

by the newspapers, but this happened before the Master came. He

couldn't have known about it through any outward means. Yet no

sooner were we seated in the car than He said to Mrs Elkins: "How

the newspapers here persecute one!"

It was such a sympathetic subject! At once Mrs Elkins opened her

heart.

"Come away!" smiled the Master. "Elude these journalists! Come to

Haifa where there is peace. Juliet will tell you there is peace in

Haifa."

Then He spoke of how much I loved her and of her philanthropic

deeds, which He prayed might increase. He captured her hand and

kept it in His, while she hastily hid the sweet gesture under her

cape.

"Nothing endures, Mrs Elkins," He said. "Nothing but the Love of

God endures. Look at these trees in full blossom now." And in words

which I will not try to repeat He described the turning of the

seasons: the trees in summer flourishing green leaves; the

inevitable autumn with the leaves lying, yellow, on the ground.

"This," He said, "is a symbol of human life."

"Remember Bábylon." He drew a vivid picture of ancient Bábylon, its

towers, its stupendous art; then of Bábylon today: a waste of

rubble, "the hyena prowling among its crumbled stones." No other

sign of life but the "voice of the owl by night" or "a lark singing

at daybreak." "Remember Tyre. Here too was beauty and splendour and

pomp. Think of Tyre now. I have been there. I have seen."

He spoke of my mother that day: "Juliet's mother is very good. Her

heart is very pure. As soon as we met, her face became radiant."

When we reached home, Mrs Elkins said to me: "You can't hide a

thing from Him. He sees everything that is in your heart."

The day Mrs Elkins first met the Master she mentioned her husband,

the senator,[107] who died about a year ago. "I wish he were here

now," she said, "to meet You."

"Insha'llah," replied the Master, "for his good deeds I shall meet

him in the Kingdom of God."

One of the senator's good deeds had been to protect the Bahá'ís in

'Akka and Haifa while the Master was being tried for His life in

1907.
__________

I was so thankful to be in Washington. At those daily meetings in

Mrs Parsons' house I would see many of my old friends, friends of

my childhood. Mrs Elkins went with me every day to the meetings:

sometimes, when all the chairs were taken, standing the whole

afternoon, although she was far from well.

One day, however, she was not with me. That night she was giving

a small diner and an opera party and she

had to rest for this. So, being free for an hour or so, I decided

to stay at Mrs Parsons' and have a little visit with Edna.

While Edna and I were talking, the Master suddenly entered the

room. "I am going out for a drive," He said, "but wait till I

return, Edna, and you too, Juliet, wait. I will see you in a short

time."

So I waited--waited and waited. Half-past six came. Seven. We were

to dine at half-past seven and the Elkinses' house was a long way

off, rather indirect on the car-line.
"Go, Juliet," urged Edna. "I will explain."
But how could I? My Lord had told me to stay.

And now I shall have to digress and tell what may seem, just at

first, another story: When I was ten years old, (and I remember the

time because that year we were living with my grandmother) a very

presumptuous idea took possession of me. I began to dream of some

day painting the Christ. I even prayed that I might. "O God," I

would pray, "You know Christ didn't look like a woman, the way all

the pictures of Him look. Please let me paint Him when I grow up

as the King of Men." And I never lost hope of this till I saw the

Master. Then I knew that no one could paint the Christ. Could the

sun with the whole universe full of its radiations, or endless

flashes of lightning be captured in paint?

Imagine my surprise and dismay, fear, joy and gratitude all mixed

together, at the news given me by Mrs Gibbons when the Master first

came to New York. The night before He landed she had received a

Tablet in which He said: "On My arrival in America Miss Juliet

Thompson shall paint a wonderful portrait of Me." This was in

response to a supplication from Mrs Gibbons

asking that her daughter might paint Him, which she never did,

though the Master graciously gave her permission, even more

graciously adding those words about me.

It was a little after seven when the Master came back from His

drive. Entering the room in which He had left me and where of

course I was still waiting, He said: "Ah, Juliet! For your sake I

returned. Mrs Hemmick[108] wanted to keep Me, but I had asked you

to wait; therefore I returned." After a pause He added: "Would you

like to come up and paint Me tomorrow?"

So I learned the reward of obedience. Such a reward for so small

an act of obedience! Once in Haifa He said to me: "Keep My words,

obey My commands and you will marvel at the results."

And, by a miracle, I wasn't late for dinner! The dinner, because

of another guest, had been postponed a half hour.

The next morning I went very early to Mrs Parsons' house, taking

my box of pastels; but though it was only eight o'clock, quite a

crowd had already gathered and I felt that the morning was doomed

to be a broken one. Not only that, but the light in the rooms

upstairs, where I was supposed to paint, is very weak, and the

delicate wallpaper, with tiny bunches of flowers all over it, I

couldn't use as a background for His head. For a while I was in

despair, for I dared not make the suggestion I had in mind. But in

the end I did. Begging Him to forgive me if I were doing something

wrong, I asked if He would pose in New York instead. To this he

consented so freely and sweetly that I had no more qualms about it.

The following day I went to Mrs Parsons' to meet Lee McClung, the

Treasurer of the United States. Lee McClung had been one of the

idols of my early adolescence. He had seemed quite old to me then,

though now he is only thirty-eight. When I saw him again last

winter for the first time in about ten years, he had made all sorts

of fun of me for my "conversion to Bahá'ísm". "It made me laugh out

of one eye and cry out of the other," he said. "What does your

mother think about it? Have you converted her?"

But at Mrs Parsons' first meeting, to my great surprise, there he

was in the audience! I couldn't wait to speak to him or to present

him to the Master as Mrs Elkins was in a hurry that day, but in the

evening he dined with us.

"How did you feel when you saw the Master?" I asked him.

A shy look came into his face, and Mr McClung is anything but shy.

"Well, I felt as though I were in the presence of one of the great

old Prophets: Elijah, Isaiah, Moses. No, it was more than that!

Christ ... no, now I have it. He seemed to me my Divine Father."

Then he said he must leave us a little early, as he was going to

Mr Bell's--Alexander Graham Bell's--to meet `Abdu'l-Bahá there.

Later I was told that the Master had made an address at Mr Bell's;

then others were called on to speak. But when Lee McClung was

called on he said: "After `Abdu'l-Bahá has spoken, I cannot."

At Mr McClung's request, I had made an appointment for him with the

Master for a private interview and this was the reason I was here

to meet him at Mrs Parsons'. I arrived a little ahead of time and

while I was

waiting for Mr McClung, a door in the hall opened and there stood

the Master, beckoning to me. He was alone, so we had to fall back

on His English and my scant Persian.

"How is your mother?" He asked first. "How old is she?"

But I couldn't tell Him, Mamma having always concealed her age till

I think even she doesn't know it now.
"About fifty?"
"I think so."
"How old are you?"
I confessed my age.

"In My eyes you are fifteen," He replied, so sweetly.

"In our eyes I am an infant?"
"Yes. Báby!"
Then the translator arrived.

"Tell Juliet," the Master began at once, "that she teaches well.

I have met many people who have been affected by you, Juliet. You

are not eloquent, you are not fluent, but your heart teaches. You

speak with a feeling, an emotion which makes people ask: 'What is

this she has?' Then they inquire; they seek and find. It is so too

with Lua. You never find Lua speaking with dry eyes! You will be

confirmed. A great bounty will descend upon you. You will become

eloquent. Your tongue will be loosed. Teach, always teach. The

confirmations of the Holy Spirit descend upon those who teach

constantly. Never feel fear. The Holy Spirit will give you the

words to say. Never fear You will grow stronger and stronger."

That erect head, that hand held high in command, the Power that

eddied from Him as He spoke those words, how can I ever feel fear

again when I have to mount the dreaded platform?

It was later that He said to me: "You have many friends. You have

no enemies. Everybody is your friend. Do not think I am ignorant

of conditions in New York. Both factions are pleased with you,

Juliet, and have nothing but good to say of you, although they

complain of others. Miss X is pleased with you! Mrs XX is pleased

with you!" (laughing as He mentioned the two chief disturbers of

the peace). "And you have accomplished this only through your

sincerity. Others may do this through diplomatic action, but you

have done it with your heart."
__________

(Footnote. I am destroying my diary in longhand and I can't bear

to lose any of the Master's words to me, those dear words of

encouragement. That is why I keep them.)
__________

Just then Lee McClung arrived and the Master took him

upstairs.[109]
__________
New York
11 May 1912

On Saturday, 11 May, just one month from the day of His landing,

the Master returned to New York from Washington, Cleveland, and

Chicago.

A few of us gathered in His rooms to prepare them for Him and fill

them with flowers; then to wait for His arrival: May Maxwell, Lua

Getsinger, Carrie Kinney, Kate Ives, Grace Robarts, and I. Mr Mills

and Mr Woodcock were waiting too.

The Master has a new home, in the Hudson Apartment House,[110]

overlooking the river. His flat is on one of the top stories, so

that its windows frame the sky. Now the windows were all open and

a fresh breeze blew in.

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá with children and Persian entourage.]

About five o'clock He came. Oh the coming of that Presence! If only

I could convey to the future the mighty commotion of it! The hearts

almost suffocate with joy, the eyes burn with tears at the stir of

that step! It is futile to try to express it. Sometimes when the

sun breaks through clouds and spreads a great fiery glow, I get

something of that feeling.

After greeting us all the Master took a seat by the window and

began to talk to us, with supreme love and gladness, wittily,

tenderly, eloquently, carrying us up as if on wings to the apex of

sublime feeling, so that we wept; then turning our tears to sudden

little ripples of laughter as an unexpected gleam of wit flashed

out; then melting our hearts with His yearning affection.

He had been horrified in Washington by the prejudice against the

Negroes. "What does it matter," He asked, "if the skin of a man is

black, white, yellow, pink, or green? In this respect the animals

show more intelligence than man. Black sheep and white sheep, white

doves and blue do not quarrel because of difference of colour."

Lua, May, and I, for the first time together in the Glory of His

Presence, sat on the floor in a corner, gazing through tears at Him

and whenever we could wrench our eyes from the sorrowful beauty of

His face, silhouetted against the sky, gazing at one another, still

through tears.

Day after day I was with Him there. Lua and I had permission to be

always with Him. I would go to His apartment in the early morning

and stay through the whole day and again and again He would call

me to His Presence.

"My Lord," I said once, "I really shouldn't take Your time. I don't

want to take Your time. I am only too

thankful to be here, serving at a distance, somewhere in Your

atmosphere."

"I know you are content with whatever I do, therefore I send for

you, Juliet," He replied.
13 May 1912

On the thirteenth of May (Percy Grant's birthday) a meeting of the

Peace Conference took place at the Hotel Astor. It was an enormous

meeting with thousands present. The Master was the Guest of Honour

and the first speaker, Dr Grant and Rabbi Wise the other speakers.

The Master sat at the centre on the high stage, Dr Grant on His

right, Rabbi Wise on His left. Oh, the symbolism of that: the

Jewish rabbi, the Christian clergyman, with the Centre of the

Covenant between, on the platform of the World Peace

Conference.[111]

The Master was really too ill to have gone to this Conference. He

had been in bed all morning, suffering from complete exhaustion,

and had a high temperature. I was with Him all morning. While I was

sitting beside Him I asked: "Must You go to the Hotel Astor when

You are so ill?"

"I work by the confirmations of the Holy Spirit," He answered. "I

do not work by hygienic laws. If I did," He laughed, "I would get

nothing done."

After that meeting, the wonderful record of which has been kept,

the Master shook hands with the whole audience, with every one of

those thousands of people!
14 May 1912

On Friday, the fourteenth of May, I had quite a distinguished

visitor, Khan Bahadur Allah-Bakhsh, the Governor of Lahore. Mr

Barakatu'llah had sent him to see me. I invited him to my meeting

that night and he

came and seemed to fall in love with the Teachings. The next

morning early he called on the Master at the Hudson Apartment

House. Lua, May, and I were there at the time and I told him that

May was one of my spiritual mothers and Lua my spiritual

grandmother. Whereupon the old gentleman said that in that case I

was his mother, May Maxwell his grandmother, and Lua his

great-grandmother!

Very soon the Master sent for him and kept him a long time in His

room. When the interview was over and Khan Bahadur Allah-Bakhsh had

left, the Master called me to Him.

"You teach well, Juliet," He said. "You teach with ecstasy. You

ignite the souls. A great bounty will descend upon you. I have

perfect confidence in you as a teacher. Your heart is pure,

absolutely pure."
My heart absolutely pure! I wept.

Then, for the second time, the Master gave me a picture of Himself.

Three days later I had a note from the Governor of Lahore. In it

he said: "`Abdu'l-Bahá is the Divine Light of today."

__________

One night I took Marjorie to the Master. She had in her hand an

offering of tulips, grown in her own garden, and these He

distributed among His visitors.

"Juliet's love for you is divine," He said, speaking to Marjorie,

"and your love for each other must become so great that no stab

will affect it." Then He told us that, in reality, our friendship

was an "eternal" one.
Marion deKay went with me to Him.

"Your friend, Juliet? Ancient friend?" and He smiled at the child.

"You must become a flame of love." ("Like Juliet," He said. I have

to keep all His sweet words to

me.) "You must become as steadfast as a rock, firm! strong! so that

when the storms break over you, when the thunder roars and the

winds rage, you will not be shaken. You must become a teacher, a

speaker."

On the fifteenth of May the Master went away for a few days. As

soon as He returned Lua telephoned me. "The Master says: come up

now if you wish. If not, you have permission to come to Him at any

time and to stay as long as you are able. Only, don't displease

your mother. He wants her to be happy, He says. This is His

message, Julie."
19 May 1912

On Sunday, 19 May, He spoke at the Church of the Divine

Paternity.[112] This was unbearably beautiful. The church is

Byzantine, making me think of the worship of the early Christians.

The interior is of grey stone.

Oh the look of His that day! Then, more vividly than ever, He shone

as the Good Shepherd, returned at last to His flocks. I wept

through the whole service. At the end of the pew in front of me sat

Lua, her eyes fixed on the master, rapt, adoring, her beauty

immeasurably heightened by that recognition, that adoration.

Soon I caught a glimpse of another rapt face--a man's--my old

friend, Mr Bailey's. Mr Bailey is the last person I could have

hoped to see there. A very old gentleman, he had always seemed to

me a hopelessly unconvertible atheist. At least he would never

listen to a word from me about the Cause. And now, here he sat, and

never have I seen a face more touched. His eyes were wistful, like

a child's, shyly reverent and as limpid as though there were tears

in them.

He met me that afternoon at the Master's apartment,

making his entrance with these words: "I have been thinking since

this morning that the way to the attainment of greatness is through

elimination."

"You felt," I ventured, "`Abdu'l-Bahá'í simplicity?"

"One would naturally feel,"--huffily--"the simplicity of Niagara."

"And the beauty of His Face?"

"The patriarchal grandeur of His face cannot be denied."

Later, how his eyes hung on that Face while the Master talked with

him!
21 May 1912

On 21 May, Mrs Tatum[113] had a reception for the Master. The

people who were there were of the fashionable world, with a

sprinkling of artists and writers. Mrs Sheridan was pouring tea.

Mrs Tatum's house is beautiful. The impression you get is of space

and light. A white staircase winds up through a very wide hall,

from which, on each side, rooms open--living rooms, dining room,

library. All these were soon crowded.

The first friend I caught sight of was Louis Potter.[114] He

came running up to me, exclaiming: "Oh august Juliet!" and attached

himself at once to Lua and me. Suddenly, there was a stir among the

people, and `Abdu'l-Bahá was in our midst. He walked over to a

yellow couch which curved along the big half-moon of the bay window

and sat down on it.

I think I must tell you how He looked there. His surroundings were

all white and yellow. Sunlight streamed in. The shadows on His face

were transparent; His profile, against the blue sky through the

polished glass of the windowpane, outlined in light.

"Come, Louis," I said to Louis Potter, "let's go to the Master."

Louis had never seen Him before, but he skipped forward like a

buoyant faun, his head tipped to one side, his hands outstretched.

"Ah-h-h!" he said. It was a little cry from his soul, as though he

were just coming home, and was so glad.

And the Master too said: "Ah-h-h!" His arms wide open, welcoming

Louis home.

Percy Grant arrived. As soon as he appeared, big and imposing, in

the room, the Master rose almost eagerly, smiling and holding out

His hand.
"Ah! Dr Grant!" He said.

They stood for what seemed to me minutes, their hands clasped,

Percy, with beautiful deference, bowing his head, a gentle, almost

tender look on his face. One of the Persians translated the

Master's greeting to him but spoke so low that I could not catch

the words. Then Percy sat down on the curving window seat so that

he faced the Master.

Soon there was another stir in the room. A small, rather plain

middle-aged woman with the most astonishing eyes--very clear, very

violet--stood in the

doorway, almost timidly, and the Master at once sent Dr Farid to

her to ask her to come and sit by Him. This was Sarah Graham

Mulhall.

He spoke a few words to her and she rose and went out, returning

after some time with a tray and a pot of tea and two cups on it.

The tray was placed on a stool between the Master and Miss Mulhall

and they drank their tea together.
__________

(Footnote. 1947. Miss Mulhall's father and brother, who were

physicians, had come to New York from England to study the effects

of drugs on the body and mind. Both died mysteriously. Miss

Mulhall's only training had been in music. She was a very gentle,

retiring woman and knew nothing of the ways of business or

organization or medicine, or anything that would have equipped her

for the evidently dangerous work of her father and brother. But

something inside her, against which she fought, urged her to

continue it. She was in the midst of this inward conflict when Mrs

Tatum telephoned her and asked her to come to meet the Master. At

first Miss Mulhall declined, saying that she really couldn't go

anywhere, she was too absorbed in her own problems, she couldn't

face a crowd of people. But later she thought: Perhaps `Abdu'l-Bahá

is a Prophet, as Mrs Tatum believes,[115] and He might help me in

making my decision.

The Master, when He called her to Him in Mrs Tatum's house, asked

if she would do something for Him. Would she brew some tea for Him

with her own

hands and drink it with Him? And while they drank tea and talked,

He Himself brought up her problem.

He told her she must do the work she had in mind; she would rise

very high in it and become "a great Counsellor"; God would always

protect her and all the Celestial Beings of the Supreme Concourse

would rally to her assistance.

She did become a Great Counsellor. After years of wonderful work,

Governor Smith, Al Smith, made her Adviser and First Commissioner

of Narcotics for New York State. One night she herself led a raid

against one of the chief centres of the drug ring--a ring of very

rich, prominent men, some of them "pillars" of St. Patrick's, some

"pillars" of St. John's Cathedral. Rounding them up in their

centre, an apartment on Park Avenue, she, with the help of her

squad of police, locked them in; then telephoned to the governor.

He took the next train to New York and upheld Miss Mulhall's

determination to bring them all to trial. Then he went to Cardinal

Hayes and Bishop Manning. Cardinal Hayes said: "These men are the

worst type of criminals. I agree with you that they must be

punished." Bishop Manning said: "You can't touch my parishioners.

They are the builders of St. John's Cathedral." He threatened Miss

Mulhall. "If you ruin them, I will destroy your office." Which he

did, ultimately, for of course every one of the men was found

guilty and sent to Fort Leavenworth. After Lehman was elected

Governor, the Narcotics Commission was abolished. But in the

meantime Miss Mulhall had done a tremendous work. Her book, Opium,

the Demon Flower, has become world famous.)
__________

Then I caught sight of little "Fergie". His real name I don't want

to mention because of what I am going to

tell. He is a noted newspaper man who writes visionary books on

economics. Percy Grant calls him "my prophet". His face is pale

and pinched and suffering and he wears a thick chestnut wig. I went

up to him and asked: "Wouldn't you like to meet the Master?" "I

think not," he drawled, "I really have nothing to say to Him."

And now the Master began to speak to the whole roomful of people.

He was very happy, He said, to be with us. "Think of the contrast!"

For years He had been imprisoned in a fortress, His associates

criminals. Now He found Himself in spacious homes, "associating,"

He said, "with you."

His talk gradually shaped itself to some definite point, which,

however, He kept for the very end. I wondered what could be coming.

When it came it was like a thunderclap.

"Think of it," He said. "Two kings were dethroned in order that I

might be freed. This is naught but pure destiny."

I glanced at Percy Grant and saw that he was deeply stirred. He had

been listening, still with that tender deference, his head slightly

tipped to one side, but at these last startling words of the

Master's, in a flash the placidity of his face broke up, something

burned through and his eyes sparked.

"And now," ended the Master, suddenly rising to His feet, strong

and incredibly majestic, "you here in America must work with Me for

the peace of the world and the oneness of mankind."

And with this He left us, the room seeming strangely empty after

He had gone.

The next morning early Howard MacNutt came to see me, looking so

radiant that I knew he was bringing good news. Then he told me. He

had just had breakfast with

Dr Grant, and the Master was to speak again at the Church of the

Ascension--at the People's Forum this time, the night of 2 June.

Bishop Burch had severely reprimanded Percy for inviting the Master

to speak on 14 April and for seating Him in the Bishop's chair! But

an idiotic thing like that would never stop Percy Grant--only make

him more defiant.

He had talked very freely with Mr MacNutt about `Abdu'l-Bahá and

His address of the day before with its great climax. "As I

listened," he said, "I realized profoundly that this was a historic

moment; that before me sat One Who, imprisoned for the sake of

humankind, had been freed by the Power of God alone, through the

dethroning of two kings."
Return to New York

On 22 May the Master left for Boston, returning the twenty-sixth.

After His return He stayed with the Kinneys a day or so (till He

moved to His new house), and then came my test! For two days He

never even looked at me. My heart bled and burned. I could not

endure the withdrawal of His nearness. The third day I went to the

new house--309 West Seventy-Eighth Street--and there, in Lua's

arms, I sobbed my heart out.

"I cry," I said, "only because I love Him," (which I fear was not

exactly true) "because I have just realized how terrifically I love

Him. This love burns my heart. It is beyond endurance."

Then He sent for me to come to Him.
__________

With tears rolling down my cheeks I entered His Presence. He was

sitting on a couch writing and did not look up--still didn't look

at me! But at last He said, going straight to the point, piercing

to the real cause of my trouble: "I have not seen you lately,

Juliet, because of

the multitude of the affairs. But I have not forgotten My promise

to pose for you. Come on Saturday with your materials and I will

sit."

I thanked Him; then falling on my knees, begged Him not to banish

me from His Presence. I could not endure to be separated from Him.

I loved, loved Him.

He rose, stood above me, took my hand and held it a long, long

time. I still knelt at His feet, the hem of His garment pressed to

my lips.
Lua joined her sweet voice to mine.

"Julie has had so much trouble this year. She wants to stay close

to You now so that her heart may be healed."
"I want to stay close because I love You!"
He smiled and said something about another love.
"That is gone. Gone," I cried.

At these words of mine which I thought were true, the strangest

thing happened. Always when the Master holds my hand I feel a flow

of sparks from His palm to mine. Now this current of Life was

suddenly cut off. Could I have lied to my Lord, and so, by

unconscious self-deception, disconnected myself from the

Fountainhead of pure Truth?

But His answer was merciful, reminding me of past sincerities. "I

am pleased with you, Juliet. You are so truthful. You tell me

everything. She said:" (He turned, laughing, to Lua) "'This is my

heart. What can I do with it?'"

I laughed too, through my tears. But soon I began to cry again.

He went back to the couch and sat down and Lua and I followed Him

and knelt together at His feet there.

"Don't cry!" (I wish the whole world could hear the

Master say "don't cry". Tears would soon cease to be.) "Don't cry!

Unhappiness and the love of Bahá'u'lláh cannot exist in the same

heart, for the love of Bahá'u'lláh is happiness."

"I cry for love of you, my Lord. My tears come from my heart. I

can't help it."

"Your eyes and Lua's"--and He laughed again--"are two rivers of

tears." "I love Juliet," He added, "for her truthfulness."

"I told Juliet," said Lua, putting her arms around me, as we still

knelt together side by side, "of Your words to Mrs Kaufman: that

these human loves were like waves of the sea rolling to the shore

one behind the other, each wave receding."

"Balih," (yes) said the Master, "this is true. You will not find

faithfulness in humanity. All humanity is unfaithful. Only God is

faithful. Bahá'u'lláh spent fifty years in prison for the sake of

humanity. There was faithfulness!"

"From this moment," cried Lua, "Juliet and I dedicate our lives to

Thee and we beg to at last die in Thy Path--to drink the cup of

martyrdom. Oh, it would be so good for the Cause if two Americans

could do this! Take hold of His coat, Julie, and beseech."

I touched the hem of His garment.

"Say yes," implored Lua. "Oh Julie, beg Him to say yes."

But in Thonon I had told the Master that I would not ask for that

cup again but would wait till God found me ready for it.

"I accept the dedication of your lives now. The rest will be

decided later."

And it was clear what He meant. How we must amuse Him!

__________

I must go back a little. On Sunday, 26 May, the night of the

Master's return from Boston, He spoke at Mr Ramsdell's (Baptist)

church.[116]

My friend, Lawrence White, who lives in Utica, had come to New York

to met the Master, and he, Silvia Gannett, and I went together to

the church.

We entered, to see a breathtaking picture: That church suggests an

old Jewish synagogue. Behind the chancel is a sweeping arch from

which hangs a dark, massive curtain in folds straight as organ

pipes. The chancel was empty that night except for the Master,

sitting--almost lying--in a semicircular chair, His head thrown

back, His luminous eyes uprolled. The sleeves of His

bronze-coloured 'aba branched out from His shoulders like great

spread wings, hiding His hands, so that I was conscious only of His

head and those terribly alive eyes. There was an awful mystery

about that dominance of the head. It seemed to obliterate the human

form and reveal Him as the Face of God. The curtain behind Him

might have concealed the Ark of the Covenant, which He, THE

COVENANT, was guarding.

Later, when He rose to speak, the Manifestation of the Glory was

entirely different. He diffused a softer radiance.

"Look at Him and see the Christ," whispered Lawrence White.

__________

Next, He spoke at the Church of the Open Door. Again the Shepherd.

Again I watched Him through blinding tears.
2 June 1912

On the second of June He spoke for Dr Grant's Forum.[117] And there

He was simpler; He manifested less, or perhaps I should say

manifested something different: a sort of brotherhood to the

masses, still retaining His grandeur. And how He addressed Himself

to that meeting and to the heart of Percy Grant!

The subject was: "What can the Orient bring to the Occident?"

That subject in that church!

Lua and I were in a front pew with Valiyu'llah Khan and Mirza

Mahmud. Suddenly I was petrified to see Mason Remey coming in,

through the door of the vestry-room. When he was last in the Church

of the Ascension I was siting beside him, engaged to him, while

Percy thundered at me from the pulpit. The text of the sermon that

Sunday was the same as the text today: "What can the Orient bring

to the Occident." "Nothing but disease and death," said Percy, his

eyes on me, "and God wants us to live; He wants us to live."

But the Speaker this time was the Master. He said: "The Orient

brings to the Occident the Manifestations of God."

Then He defined the Church as that Collective Centre which,

attracting many diverse elements, united them

into one ordered system, adding that the Church was but a

reflection of the real Collective Centre, the Shepherd, Who,

whenever His sheep became scattered, reappeared to unite them. So

the Church, established by God's Manifestation, was the Law of God,

and when Christ said to Peter, "On thee will I build My Church,"

He meant He would build His Law upon Peter. Upon him Christ built

the Law of God by which all peoples and creeds were afterward

unified.

The Master had said it again to Percy Grant: "Be thou like Peter,"

for this was His message sent by me last summer.

When, at the end of the marvellous address, Percy stepped out into

the chancel, it was another man I saw: a man touched by the Hand

of God, shaken to the very roots of his being. As Marjorie said,

he looked ill and strangely upset. He could scarcely articulate.

The questions followed; it is the custom of the Forum to ask

questions. In the centre of the chancel sat the Master, Dr Grant

on His right in a choirstall, Dr Farid behind Him. How at home the

Master looked there! He pushed back His turban and smiled as He

answered, often very wittily. Once He raised one finger high. I

caught my breath then. He was like Jesus in the synagogue

confronting the scribes and Pharisees, except that His audience

weren't Pharisees.
5 June 1912

The Master has begun to pose for me. He had said: "Can you paint

Me in a half hour?"

"A half hour, my Lord?" I stammered, appalled. I can never finish

a head in less than two weeks.

"Well, I will give you three half hours. You mustn't waste My time,

Juliet."

He told me to come to Him Saturday morning, 1 June, at

seven-thirty.

I went in a panic. He was waiting for me in the entrance hall, a

small space in the English basement where the light--not much of

it--comes from the south. In fact I found myself faced with every

kind of handicap. I always paint standing, but now I was obliged

to sit, jammed so close to the window (because of the lack of

distance between the Master and me) that I couldn't even lean back.

No light. No room. And I had brought a canvas for a life-size head.

The Master was seated in a dark corner, His black 'aba melting into

the background; and again I saw Him as the Face of God, and

quailed. How could I paint the Face of God?

"I want you," He said, "to paint My Servitude to God."

"Oh my Lord," I cried, "only the Holy Spirit could paint Your

Servitude to God. No human hand could do it. Pray for me, or I am

lost. I implore You, inspire me."

"I will pray," He answered, "and as you are doing this only for the

sake of God, you will be inspired."

And then an amazing thing happened. All fear fell away from me and

it was as though Someone Else saw through my eyes, worked through

my hand.

All the points, all the planes in that matchless Face were so clear

to me that my hand couldn't put them down quickly enough, couldn't

keep pace with the clarity of my vision. I painted in ecstasy, free

as I had never been before.

At the end of the half hour the foundation of the head was perfect.

On Monday again I went to the Master at seven-thirty. As I got off

the bus at Seventy-Eighth Street and Riverside Drive I saw Him at

the centre of a little group standing beside that strip of park

that drops low to the river--the part we love to call "His garden",

a forever hallowed spot to us, for there we sometimes walk with Him

in the evenings, there He takes His daily exercise, or escapes from

the house to rest and pray.

The people who were with Him this morning were Nancy Sholl and Ruth

Berkeley, Mr MacNutt and Mr Mills, and, as I hurried to join them,

I saw that the Master was anointing them from a vial of attar of

rose.

Oh the heavenly perfume, the pale, early-morning sunshine and the

Master, all in white glistening in it (no one else takes the

sunlight as He does: He is like a polished mirror to the sun), the

ecstatic, intoxicating love with which He rubbed our foreheads with

His strong fingers dripping with that essence of a hundred roses!

Soon we saw Miss Buckton crossing the street toward us, bringing

with her a tall young man with a remarkable face, very pure and

serene, which seemed somehow familiar to me. The Master abruptly

left us and met the two in the middle of the Drive. Then I saw Him

open His arms wide and clasp the young man to His breast.

We all followed the Master to His house, where the young man was

introduced to me, and then I knew why his face had seemed familiar.

He was Walter Hempden. I had seen him in the theatre. I was in the

audience, he on the stage playing the part of "the Servant" in The

Servant in the House: Christ. And he played it so intensely, with

such spiritual fervour, that I prayed with all my

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá in His "garden" on Riverside Drive in

New York, 1912.]

heart, there in the audience, that he might some day meet the real

"Servant!"118
12 June 1912

Yesterday morning I went up early to the Master's house, that house

whose door is open at seven-thirty and kept wide open till

midnight.

He had been away and I had not seen Him for three days. I had

brought my pastels, thinking He might sit for me, but I found Him

looking utterly spent. He was in the English basement, Ruth

Berkeley and Valiyu'llah Khan with Him, lying back against the sofa

cushions. But, in spite of His weariness, He looked up with

brilliant eyes.
"What do you want of Us, Juliet?" He smiled.
I had hid my pastels. "Only to be near You."

"You must excuse Me from sitting for you today. I am not able

today."
"I knew that, my Lord, as soon as I came in."

Then He talked to Ruth and me. He told us we were as Bábes nursing

at the Divine Breast. "But Bábes," He said, "grow daily through the

mother's milk."

I could not help but weep, for His was the Divine Breast.

Soon He went out alone to "the garden", leaving Ruth, Valiyu'llah

Khan, and me together.

"It is wonderful," Ruth said as He went, "to see how the world is

quickened today in all directions."

"And to know," I said, "that the Voice that is quickening it is the

same tender Voice that spoke to us just now." And I wept again, for

something about the Master that morning had utterly melted me.

Later He came back. The English basement was crowded by then and

He talked for a long while to the people. But this I could see was

pure sacrifice. His vitality seemed gone. At times He could

scarcely bring forth the words, yet He gave and gave. When He had

finished He hurriedly left the house and went again to "His

garden".

On the way to the bus I met Him returning alone. He stopped me, put

out His hand and took mine, with indescribable tenderness smiling

at me. In the handclasp, the look, even in the tilt of the head was

a Love so poignant as to give me pain.
"Come tomorrow and paint, Juliet," He said.

He appeared refreshed--better--but remembering His utter depletion

of the morning I couldn't help answering, "If You are well." Then

I thought I would speak in Persian to amuse Him, but instead of

saying, "If Your health is good," I made a mistake and said, "Agar

Shuma khub ast," (If You are good.) whereupon I was covered with

confusion. I must have amused Him!

How stupidly we speak to Him! Imagine saying "if" to Him. That was

even worse than my break in Persian.
__________

That night there was a meeting at the Kinneys', one of those deadly

"Board meetings", but the Master came to it.

Striding up and down like a king, He spoke to us. In these

meetings, He said, we should be in connection

with the Supreme Concourse. Between the Supreme Concourse and us

there should be telegraphic communication, one end of the wire in

the breast of each one here and the other in that Concourse on

high, so that all we might say or do would be inspired.

__________

Today (12 June) I went up early to His house, but not early enough.

As I turned into Seventy-Eighth Street from West End Avenue I saw

Him a block away, hastening toward "His garden", His robes floating

out as He walked.

Soon He came back to us. Miss Buckton had arrived by that time and

a poor little waif of a girl, a Jewess. She was all in black and

her small pale face was very careworn.

I had been in the kitchen with Lua. When I heard the voice of the

Master I hurried into the hall, and there I saw them sitting at the

window, the poor sad little girl at the Master's right, Alice

Buckton at His left. Like a God, He dominated the scene. Sunlight

streamed through the window, His white robes and turban shining in

it, the strong carving of His Face thrown into high relief by

masses of shadow.
The little Jewish girl was crying.

"Don't grieve now, don't grieve," He said. He was very, very still

and I think He was calming her.

"But my brother has been in prison for three years, and it wasn't

just to put him in prison. It wasn't his fault, what he did. He was

weak and other people led him. He has to serve four more years. My

father and mother are always depressed. My brother-in-law has just

died, and he was the on who supported us. Now we haven't even

that."
"You must trust in God," said the Master.

"But the more I trust the worse things become!" she sobbed.

"You have never trusted."

"But my mother is all the time reading psalms. She doesn't deserve

to have God abandon her. I read the psalms myself, the ninety-first

psalm and the twenty-third psalm, every night before I go to bed.

I pray too."

"To pray is not to read psalms. To pray is to trust in God and to

be submissive in all things to Him. Be submissive; then things will

change for you. Put your parents and your brother in God's hands.

Love God's Will. Strong ships are not conquered by the sea, they

ride the waves! Now be a strong ship, not a battered one."

At noon I took Percy Grant to the Master. The Master had inquired

for him and sent him a message by me, and Percy had responded

instantly by himself suggesting this visit. But the Master was out

when we reached the house and while we were waiting for Him I

mentioned a very interesting thing He had said to Gifford

Pinchot:[119] that the people were rising wave upon wave, like a

great tide, and the capitalists, unless they realized this soon,

would be driven out with violence; also, that in the future the

labourer would not work on a wage basis but for an interest in the

concern.

Just then Lua appeared at the door of the room opposite, went to

the stairway and, with her beautiful reverence, leaned across the

rail to look down.
"He is coming, Lua?"
"Yes, Julie, He is coming!"

He entered the room with both hands extended and in

a voice like a chime from His heart, said: "Oh-h, Dr Grant! Dr

Grant!"
Then I slipped out.

When I returned at the Master's call, He was signing a photograph

for Percy and writing a prayer on it. "And now," he said,

presenting it, "you must give Me your photograph. I want your face.

I have given you Mine. Now you must give Me yours."

"I will pray for you," He added as He bade Percy goodbye. "I will

mention you daily in My prayers."

The Master detained me for a moment. As I rejoined Percy in the

car, Valiyu'llah Khan was just going into the house.

"Do you see that handsome, distinguished-looking young man?" I

said. "That is Valiyu'llah Khan, a descendant of two generations

of martyrs and the brother of one very young martyr. His

grandfather, Sulayman Khan, was a disciple of The Báb. He was

Governor of Fars and a great prince, but that didn't save him. He

suffered the most ghastly kind of martyrdom and with such ecstasy

that he is one of the best beloved of The Bábi martyrs.

"Just a few years ago Valiyu'llah's father, Varqa Khan, and his

little brother, [Ruhu'llah] Varqa, went on a pilgrimage to 'Akka

and had a wonderful visit with the Master. But on their way home

they were both arrested and thrown into prison. Then one day some

brutal men came into their cell, one with an axe. Varqa Khan was

hacked into pieces alive, and the poor little boy forced to look

on at that butchery. When it was over, one of the executioners

turned to the child. I think I will tell the rest in Valiyu'llah

Khan's own language, just as he told it to me.

"'The man said to my brother: "If you will deny Bahá'u'lláh, we

will take you to the court of the Shah and honours and riches will

be heaped upon you." But my brother answered: "I do not want such

things." Then the man said to him: "If you refuse to deny, we will

kill you worse than your father." "You may kill me a thousand times

worse," my brother said. "Is my life of more value than my

father's? To die for Bahá'u'lláh is my supreme desire." 'This so

angered the executioners that they fell upon Varqa and choked him

to death.' Varqa was only twelve years old.

"A day or two ago," I went on, "Valiyu'llah Khan asked me, 'How is

the Master's portrait progressing?' and he added that, in a

portrait, he thought 'one must paint the soul.' 'But who can paint

the soul of `Abdu'l-Bahá I asked. And I wish you could have seen

the fire in his eyes as he drew himself up and said: 'We can paint

it with our blood!'"
13 June 1912

The next day, 13 June, as usual I went very early to the Master's

house--so early that no one was there--I mean, no visitors. Some

of the Persians of course were with Him: Valiy'u'llah Khan, Ahmad

and Mirza 'Ali-Akbar. I found them in the lower hall, the English

basement. The Master was sitting in the big chair by the window.

He called me to a seat opposite, then began to speak, smiling.

"Juliet is absolutely truthful. For this I love her very much. She

conceals nothing from me."

"It would be useless, my Lord," I said, "to try to conceal anything

from You. I could hide nothing."

"That is true," said the Master, raising one hand. "Nothing;

nothing."

Soon He rose. "Stay here," He told me, and went out with Ahmad.

By the time He returned a crowd had gathered. He gave a few private

interviews upstairs, then came down and, sitting by the window,

talked to all the people. I think the strongest image in my mind

is and will always be the holy figure of the Master sitting in the

rays of the sun at that window.

The meeting over, a few of us went upstairs to say a healing prayer

for Mrs Hinkle-Smith, but just before Lua began to chant, the

Master looked in at the door and called: "Juliet," and I happily

deserted Mrs Hinkle-Smith.

"Bring your things in here and paint," He said, pointing to the

library.

Oh, these sittings: so wonderful, yet so humanly difficult! We move

from room to room, from one kind of light to another. The Master

has given me three half hours, each time in a different room, and

each time people come in and watch me. But the miraculous thing is

that nothing makes any difference. The minute I begin to work the

same rapture takes possession of me. Someone Else looks through my

eyes and sees clearly; Someone Else works through my hand with a

sort of furious precision.

On this thirteenth of June, after Lua had chanted the prayer for

Mrs Hinkle-Smith, she and May came into the library, crossed over

to where I was sitting and stood behind me.

The Master looked up and smiled at May. "You have a kind heart, Mrs

Maxwell." Then He turned to Lua. "You, Lua, have a tender heart.

And what kind of heart

have you, Juliet?" He laughed. "What kind of a heart have you?"

"Oh, what kind of heart have I? You know, my Lord. I don't know."

"An emotional heart." He laughed again and rolled His hands one

round the other in a sort of tempestuous gesture. "You will have

a boiling heart, Juliet. Now," He continued, "if these three hearts

were united into one heart--kind, tender and emotional--what a

great heart that would be!"
14 June 1912

The next morning, Thursday, though I went unusually early to the

Master, He had already left the house. But Lua, Valiyu'llah Khan,

and I had a wonderful morning. Valiyu'llah told us so many things.

"My father," he said, "spent much time with the Blessed Beauty. The

Blessed Beauty Himself taught him.

"One time when my father was in His room, Bahá'u'lláh rose and

strode back and forth till the very walls seemed to shake. And He

told my father that once in an age the Mighty God sent a Soul to

earth endowed with the power of the Great Ether, and that such a

Soul had all power and was able to do anything. 'Even this walk of

Mine' said Bahá'u'lláh, 'has an effect in the world.'

"Then He said that His Holiness Jesus Christ had also come with the

power of the Great Ether, but the haughty priesthood of His day

thought of Him as a poor, unlettered youth and believed that if

they should crucify Him, His Teachings would soon be forgotten.

Therefore they did crucify Him. But because His Holiness Jesus

possessed the power of the Great Ether, He could not remain

underground. This ethereal power rose and conquered the whole

earth. 'And now,' the Blessed Beauty said, 'look to the Master, for

this same Power is His.'

"Bahá'u'lláh," added Valiyu'llah Khan, "taught my father much about

�qa. �qa (the Master, you know) is one of the titles of

`Abdu'l-Bahá and the Greatest Branch is another, and the Greatest

Mystery of God another. By all these we call Him in Persian. The

Blessed Perfection, Bahá'u'lláh, revealed the Station of

`Abdu'l-Bahá to my father. And my father wrote many poems to the

Master, though the Master would scold him and say: 'You must not

write such things to Me.' But the heart of my father could not keep

quiet. This is one poem he wrote:
__________

'O Dawning-Point of the Beauty of God, I know Thee! Though Thou

shroudest Thyself in a thousand veils, I know Thee! Though Thou

shouldst assume the tatters of a beggar, still would I know Thee!'

__________

In the late afternoon I returned with my mother. The Master

received us in His own room, which was full of roses and lilies and

carnations.

"Ah-h! Mrs Thompson. Marhaba! Marhaba!" (Welcome! Welcome!)

The intonation of that "Marhaba" can never be described. It is a

welcome from a heart which is a channel for God's heart.

He was very playful with Mamma. "Are you pleased

with Juliet? Pleased now, Mrs Thompson? The next time you have to

complain of her, come and complain to Me and I will beat her!"

15 June 1912

On Friday, 15 June, I was with the Master alone for a while, and

I brought up the name of Percy Grant. "He didn't understand You the

other day, my Lord. He thinks that You teach asceticism, that the

spirit and the flesh are two separate things."

"That is not what I said," the Master replied. "I said that the

spiritual man and the materialist were two different beings. The

spirit is in the flesh."
5 July 1912

The Beloved Master's portrait is finished. He sat for me six times,

but I really did it in the three half hours He had promised me; for

the sixth time, when He posed in His own room on the top floor, I

didn't put on a single stroke. I was looking at the portrait

wondering what I could find to do, when He suddenly rose from his

chair and said: "It is finished." The fifth time He sat, Miss

Souley-Campbell came in with a drawing she had done from a

photograph to ask if He would sign it for her and if she might add

a few touches from life. This meant that He had to change His pose,

so of course I couldn't paint that day. And the fourth time (the

nineteenth of June)--who could have painted then?

I had just begun to work, Lua in the room sitting on a couch

nearby, when the Master smiled at me; then turning to Lua said in

Persian: "This makes me sleepy. What shall I do?"

[Photograph: Portrait of `Abdu'l-Bahá painted by Juliet Thompson,

1912.]

"Tell the Master, Lua, that if He would like to take a nap, I can

work while He sleeps."

But I found that I could not. What I saw then was too sacred, too

formidable. He sat still as a statue, His eyes closed, infinite

peace on that chiselled face, a God-like calm and grandeur in His

erect head.

Suddenly, with a great flash like lightning He opened His eyes and

the room seemed to rock like a ship in a storm with the Power

released. The Master was blazing. "The veils of glory", "the

thousand veils", had shrivelled away in that Flame and we were

exposed to the Glory itself.
Lua and I sat shaking and sobbing.

Then He spoke to Lua. I caught the words, "Munadiy-i 'Ahd." (Herald

of the Covenant.
Lua started forward, her hand to her breast.
"Man?" (I?) she exclaimed.

"Call one of the Persians. You must understand this."

Never shall I forget that moment, the flashing eyes of `Abdu'l-Bahá

the reverberations of His Voice, the Power that still rocked the

room. God of lightning and thunder! I thought.

"I appoint you, Lua, the Herald of the Covenant. And I AM THE

COVENANT, appointed by Bahá'u'lláh. And no one can refute His Word.

This is the Testament of Bahá'u'lláh. You will find it in the Holy

Book of Aqdas. Go forth and proclaim, 'This is THE COVENANT OF GOD

in your midst.'"

A great joy had lifted Lua up. Her eyes were full of light. She

looked like a winged angel. "Oh recreate me," she cried, "that I

may do this work for Thee!"
By now I was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Julie too," said Lua, not even in such a moment forgetful of me,

"wants to be recreated."

But the Master had shrouded Himself with His veils again, the

"thousand veils". He sat before us now in His dear humanity: very,

very human, very simple.

"Don't cry, Juliet," He said. "This is no time for tears. Through

tears you cannot see to paint."

I tried hard to hold back my tears and to work, but painting that

day was at an end for me.
The Master smiled lovingly.

"Juliet is one of My favourites because she speaks the truth to me.

See how I love the truth, Juliet. You spoke one word of truth to

Me and see how I have praised it!"

I looked up to smile in answer, and in gratitude, then was

overwhelmed again by that awful convulsive sobbing.

At this the Master began to laugh and, as He laughed and laughed,

the strangest thing happened. It was as if at each outburst He

wrapped Himself in more veils, so that now He looked completely

human, without a trace left of His superhuman majesty. Never had

I seen Him like this before and I never did afterward.

"I am going to tell you something funny," He said, adding in

English, "a joke".

"Oh tell it!" we begged; and now I was in a sort of hysteria,

laughing and crying at the same time.
"No. Not now. Paint."
But of course I couldn't paint.
Later, walking up and down, He laughed again.
"I am thinking of My joke," He explained.
"Tell it!" we pleaded.

"No, I cannot, for every time I try to tell it I laugh so I cannot

speak."

We got down on our knees, able at last to enter into His play, and

begged Him, "Please, please tell us." We were laughing on our

knees.
"No. Not now. After lunch."

But, alas, after lunch He went upstairs to His room, and we never

heard the Master's joke.

Perhaps, there wasn't any joke. Perhaps He had just found it

necessary, after that mighty Declaration, to bring us down to earth

again. He had revealed to us "The Apex of Immortality." He had

lifted us to a height from which we could see it. Now He, our

loving Shepherd, had carried us in His own arms back to our little

valley and put us where we belonged.
__________

In the early morning of 19 June, before the Master had called me

to paint Him, He had spoken to the people in the English basement.

On His way down the stairs from His room He passed Lua and me,

where we stood in the third-floor hall. We saw, and felt, as He

walked down the upper flight, a peculiar power in His step--as

though some terrific Force had possession of Him; a Force too

strong to be caged in the body, sparking through, almost escaping

His body, able to sunder it. I cannot begin to describe that

indomitable step, its fearful majesty, or the strange flashing of

His eyes. The sublime language of the Old Testament, words such as

these: "Who is this that cometh from Bozrah ... that treadeth the

wine-press in His fury?" faintly express what I saw as I watched

the Master descending those stairs. Unsmiling, He passes Lua and

me. Then He looked back, still unsmiling.
"Juliet is one of My favourites," He said.
__________

In the afternoon of that same day He sent Lua down to the waiting

people to "proclaim the Covenant"; then a

little later followed her and spoke Himself on the station of the

Centre of the Covenant, but not as He had done to Lua and me. The

blazing Reality of it He had revealed in His own Person to us. To

them He spoke guardedly, even deleting afterwards from our notes

some of the things He had said.

Still later that afternoon the Master had promised to sit for a

photograph. I had made the appointment myself with Mrs Kasebier,

a very wonderful photographer, to bring the Master to her studio,

but some people prevented His getting off in time. When they left,

He sent for me.

"I am ashamed," He said (while I nearly died at that word "ashamed"

from Him), "but I will go tomorrow. I had planned to leave for

Montclair tomorrow but I will stay until Friday for your sake."

"I can't bear, my Lord," I said, "to have You delay Your trip to

the country for this."
"No, I wish it," He answered.

"I have a confession to make, my Lord," I said. "I have been to Dr

Grant's house. It happened in this way: he asked if I would be the

bearer of his photograph to You and would I stop at the Rectory for

it on my way up to You. Then he invited me to come to breakfast.

That invitation I declined, but I could think of no excuse for

refusing to stop for the picture. So I did go. But I stayed only

five or ten minutes and his mother was with us all the time."

"Good, good," said the Master. "Going to his house was not good,

but since you have confessed it, Juliet, I am very much pleased.

When I look into your heart," He added, smiling, "I find it just

like that mirror--it is so pure."

(Oh, please understand me, when I repeat such things it is only

because they are His words to me. I keep them just to remind myself

of something potential He sees in me which I must grow up to. I am

not reminding myself of His praise, for it really isn't praise but

stimulation. If He had been blaming me, I would repeat His blame

too.

He then spoke of my teaching. "Your breath is effective," He said.

"You are now in the Kingdom of Abha with Me, as I wished you to

be."
20 June 1912

The next day, 20 June, we went to Mrs Kasebier's--Lua, Mrs

Hinkle-Smith, and I--in the car with the Master.

I shall never forget the Master's beauty in the strange cold light

of her studio, a green, underwater sort of light, in which He

looked shining and chiselled, like the statue of a god. But the

pictures are dark shadows of Him.
21 June 1912

On 21 June, the Master left for Montclair to stay nine days. I was

with Him all day till He went. I had lunched with Him nearly every

day that week. Lua, Mrs Hinkle-Smith, Valiyu'llah Khan, and I bade

Him goodbye on the steps of His house. Montclair
23 June 1912

It had nearly killed Lua not to be taken to Montclair with Him. Two

days later she said to me: "Let's go to see Him, Julie."

"How can we, Lua? He didn't invite us," I answered. "He bade us

goodbye for nine days."

"Oh but you have an excuse, those proofs of Mrs Kasebier's

pictures. You really should show them to Him, Julie."

And she whirled Georgie Ralston and me off to Montclair with her.

We were punished of course, and our first punishment was that lunch

was unusually late (so that instead of arriving after, as we had

planned, we arrived just in time for it). And this was agonizing,

for there weren't enough seats at the table, and the Master

wouldn't sit down to eat. One of us had to occupy His chair, while

He Himself waited on us, carrying all the courses around and around

that table. I couldn't get over my mortification.

At the end He came in with the fruit, a glass bowl full of golden

peaches. Without turning His head--His face was set straight before

Him--He sent a piercing glance from the corner of His eye toward

Lua and me. Such a majestic, stern glance, like a sword-thrust.

After lunch, and this was our second punishment, He banished the

three of us--Georgie, Lua, and me--leading us to a small back porch

and abandoning us there. But before very long He returned and asked

us to take a walk with Him.

We came back from our walk by way of the front porch. Some people

were gathered there and Lua, Georgie, and I sat down with them

while the Master went upstairs to rest. He joined us, however, very

soon and, striding up and down, began to talk to us. As He walked

His Power shook us; His intoxicating exhilaration, pouring into me,

filled me up with new life.

His eyes--those eyes of light, which seem to be always looking into

heaven and when for an instant they glance toward earth, veer away

at once, back to heaven--were brilliantly restless. His whole Being

was restless with the same strange Force I had felt on that

memorable day, the nineteenth of June. It was as though

the lightning of His Spirit could scarcely endure to be harnessed

to the body. He was almost out of the body. But soon He took a seat

and rested quietly.

I showed Him the proofs of the pictures, then spoke of Mrs

Kasebier--who had seen Him only once, when she photographed Him.

"She said she would like to live near You, my Lord."

He laughed. "She doesn't want to live near Me. She only wants a

good time!" Then He grew serious. "To live near Me," He said, "one

must have My aims and objects. Do you remember the rich young man

who wanted to live near Christ, and when he learned what it cost

to live near Him--that it meant to give away all his possessions

and take up a cross and follow Christ--then," the Master laughed,

"he fled away!"[120]

"Among the disciples of The Báb," He continued, "were two: His

amanuensis and a firm believer. On the eve of The Báb's martyrdom

the firm believer prayed: 'Oh let me die with You!' The amanuensis

said: 'What shall I do?'

"'What shall I do?'" mocked the Master. "'What do you want me to

do?' The disciple died with The Báb, his head on the breast of the

Bab, and their bodies were mingled in death. The other died in

prison anyway, but think of the difference in their stations!

"There was another martyr," continued the Master after a moment,

"Mirza 'Abdu'llah of Shiraz." Then He told us that Mirza 'Abdu'llah

had been in the Presence of Bahá'u'lláh only once, "but he so loved

the Blessed Beauty" that he could not resist following Him to

Tihran, though Bahá'u'lláh had commanded him to remain in Shiraz

with his old parents. "Still," said the Master, His tone exultant,

"he followed!"

Mirza 'Abdu'llah reached Tihran in the midst of that bloodiest of

massacres resulting from the attempt on the Shah's life by two

fanatical Bábis. Bahá'u'lláh had been cast into a dungeon. There,

in that foul cellar He sat, weighted down by "The Devil's Chain",

eleven disciples sitting with Him, bound by the same chain. In it

were set iron collars which were fastened around the neck by iron

pins. Every day a disciple was slaughtered and none knew when his

turn would come. The first intimation he had of his immediate death

was when the jailer took out the iron pin from his collar.

Mirza 'Abdu'llah entered Tihran and inquired of the guard at the

gate "where Bahá'u'lláh resided." "We will take you to Him," said

the guard. And some men took 'Abdu'llah to the dungeon and chained

him to Bahá'u'lláh.

"So," the Master said, "he found his Beloved again!"

One day the jailer came into the dungeon and took out the pin from

Mirza 'Abdu'llah's collar.

"Then," said the Master, "Mirza 'Abdu'llah stepped joyfully

forward. First, he kissed the feet of the Blessed Beauty, and then

..."

The Master's whole aspect suddenly changed. It was as though the

spirit of the martyr had entered into Him. With that God-like head

erect, snapping His fingers high in the air, beating out a

drum-like rhythm with His foot till we could hardly endure the

vibrations set up, He triumphantly sang "The Martyr's Song".

"I have come again, I have come again,
By way of Shiraz I have come again!
With the wine cup in My hand!
Such is the madness of Love!"

"And thus," ended `Abdu'l-Bahá, "singing and dancing he went to his

death, and a hundred executioners fell on him! And later his

parents came to Bahá'u'lláh, praising God that their son had given

his life in the Path of God."

This was what the Cause meant then. This was what it meant to "live

near Him"! Another realm opened to me, the realm of Divine Tragedy.

The Master sank back into His chair. Tears swelled in my eyes,

blurring everything. When they cleared I saw a still stranger look

on His face. His eyes were unmistakably fixed on the Invisible.

They were filled with delight and as brilliant as jewels. A smile

of exultation played on His lips. So low that it sounded like an

echo He hummed the Martyr's Song.

"See," He exclaimed, "the effect that the death of a martyr has in

the world. It has changed My condition." After a moment's silence,

He asked: "What is it, Juliet, you are pondering so deeply?"

"I was thinking, my Lord, of the look on Your face when You said

Your condition had been changed. And that I had seen a flash of the

joy of God when someone dies happily for His Cause."

"There was one name," the Master answered, "that always brought joy

to the face of Bahá'u'lláh. His expression would change at the

mention of it. That name was Mary of Magdala."
West Englewood
29 June 1912

Almost a week passed before we saw our Lord again. Then, on the

twenty-ninth of June, we met Him at West Englewood. He was giving

a feast for all the believers in the grounds around Roy Wilhelm's

house, the "Feast of Unity" He called it.

I went with dear Silvia Gannett. We walked from the little station,

past the grove where the tables were set--a grove of tall pine

trees--and on to the house in which He was, He Whose Presence

filled our eyes with light and without Whom our days had been very

dim and lifeless.

Ah, there He was again! Sitting in a corner of the porch! I sped

across the lawn, forgetting Silvia, forgetting everything. He

looked down at me with grave eyes, and I saw a fathomless welcome

in them.

For a while we sat with Him on the porch. Then He led us down into

the grove. There He seated Himself on the ground at the foot of a

pine tree and called two believers to His right and left. One was

Mrs Krug in her very elegant clothes, the other a poor and shabby

old woman. But both faces, the wrinkled one and the smooth, pretty

one, were beautiful with the same radiance. I shall never forget

that old woman's shining blue eyes.

The great words He spoke to us then have been preserved.[121] I

will not repeat them. Besides I remember them too imperfectly. But

He said one thing which woke my whole being: "This is a New Day;

a New Hour."

By the time He had finished, the feast was ready, but just as it

was announced a storm blew up--a strange, sudden storm, without

warning. There was a tremen-

dous crash of thunder; through the treetops we could see black

clouds boiling up, and big drops of rain splashed on the tables.

The Master rose calmly and, followed by the Persians, walked out

to the road, then to the end of it where there is a crossroad. A

single chair had been left there and, as I watched from a distance,

I saw the Master take it and sit down, while the Persians ranged

themselves behind Him. I saw Him lift His face to the sky. He had

gone a long way from the house; thunder still crashed and the

clouds rolled frighteningly low, but He continued to sit perfectly

motionless, that sacred, powerful face upturned to the sky. Then

came a strong, rushing wind; the clouds began to race away; blue

patches appeared above and the sun shone out. And then the Master

rose and walked back into the grove. This I witnessed.

Later, as we sat at the tables, two hundred and fifty of us, He

anointed us all with attar of rose. I was not at a table but

sitting under a tree with Marjorie Morten and Silvia. The Master

swept toward us in His long white robes, forever the Divine

Shepherd.
"Friends here?" He smiled, "Friends?"

In His voice was a thrilling joy. With a look that shook my heart,

so full was it with the musk of His Love, He rubbed my face hard

with the attar of rose.

He passed among all the tables with His little vial of perfume

(which Grace Robarts swears was almost as full at the end as in the

beginning) anointing the forehead of every one there, touching and

caressing all our blind faces with His tingling fingers.

Then He disappeared for hours.
__________

Lua, too, went off alone, an exceedingly naughty purpose in her

mind. The Master had just told her that she

must leave very soon for California. So now she deliberately walked

in poison ivy, walked back and forth and back and forth till her

feet were thoroughly poisoned. "Now, Julie," she said (when the

deed was done) "He can't send me to California."
__________

To me the most beautiful scene of all came later, when the Master

returned to us after dark. About fifty or sixty people had

lingered, unable to tear themselves from Him. The Master sat in a

chair on the top step of the porch, some of us surrounding

Him--dear guilty Lua with her poisoned feet, May, Silvia, Marjorie,

and I and a young coloured man, Neval Thomas. Below us, all over

the lawn, on each side of the path, sat the others, the light

summer skirts of the women spread out on the grass, tapers in their

hands (to keep off mosquitoes). In the dark, in their filmy

dresses, they looked like great moths and the burning tips of the

tapers they waved like fireflies darting about.

Then the Master spoke again to us. I was standing behind Him, close

to Him, and before He began He turned and gave me a long, profound

look. His talk of that night has been recorded. It was a resounding

Call to us to arise from the tomb of self in this Day of the Great

Resurrection and unite around Him to vivify the world.

Before He had finished He rose from His chair and started down the

path still talking, passing between the dim figures on the grass

with their lighted tapers, talking till He reached the road, where

He turned and we could no longer see Him. Even then His words

floated back to us--the liquid Persian, 'Ali Quli Khan's beautiful,

quivering translation, like the sound of a violin string.

"Peace be with you," this was the last we heard, "I will pray for

you."

Oh that Voice that came back out of His invisibility when He had

passed beyond our sight. May I always remember, and hear the Voice.

New York
30 June 1912

That night our Beloved Lord returned to New York. The next morning

early I flew up to see Him, but He sent me at once to Lua, who was

staying with Georgie Ralston in a hotel nearby.

She was in bed, her feet terribly swollen from the poison ivy.

"Look at me, Julie," she said. "Look at my feet. Oh, please go

right back to the Master and tell Him about them and say: 'How can

Lua travel now?'"

I did it, returned to the Master's house, found Him in His room and

put Lua's question to Him. He laughed, then crossed the room to a

table on which stood a bowl of fruit, and, selecting an apple and

a pomegranate, gave them to me.

"Take these to Lua," He said. "Tell her to eat them and she will

be cured. Spend the day with her, Juliet."

Oh precious Lua--strange mixture of disobedience and obedience--and

all from love! I shall never forget her, seizing first the apple,

then the pomegranate and gravely chewing them all the way through

till not even a pomegranate seed was left: thoroughly eating her

cure, which was certain to send her to California.

In the late afternoon we were happily surprised by a visit from the

Master Himself. He drew back the sheet and looked at Lua's feet,

which by that time were beautifully slim. Then He burst out

laughing.

"See," He said, "I have cured Lua with an apple and a pomegranate."

But Lua revolted again. There was one more thing she could try, and

she tried it. The Master had asked me to

paint her portrait and I had already had one sitting. The following

day, at the Master's house, she drew me aside.

"Please, Julie, do something else for me. Go to the Master, now,

and say: 'If Lua is in California, how can I paint her?'"

I went straight to His room with Valiyu'llah Khan to translate. "My

Lord," I said, "You have commanded me to paint Lua. If she is in

California and I here, how can I do it? The portrait is begun; how

can I finish it?"

Again the Master burst out laughing, for this of course was too

transparent.

"In a year," He said, "Lua will join Me in Egypt. She will stay in

New York a few days on her way to Me and you can paint her then,

Juliet."

So poor Lua had to go to California. There was no way out for

her.[122]
4 July 1912

On the fourth of July, yesterday, Mamma had her birthday dinner

with the Master. He was so sweet to her. When we first arrived we

found Him in the English basement and He led Mamma to the sofa and,

with that wonderful freedom of His, drew her down beside Him.

Carrie Kinney, Georgie Ralston, and I were sitting across the room

by the window and I'm afraid we did look solemn, for we sat in a

row, perfectly silent.

"Look at them!" said Mamma, laughing. "They are jealous of me!"

"Then we will make them more jealous!" arid the

Master seized Mamma's hand and drew her still closer, at which she

looked really scared!

Now I felt compelled to speak. "Three years ago, my Lord, on the

fourth of July, Carrie, and I were with You in 'Akka and You took

us to the Holy Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh. I never expected to keep that

anniversary with You in New York."

At the table the Master joked with Mamma because she was eating so

little. "I perceive that you are an angel, Mrs Thompson. Angels do

not eat."

"The Master sees I am not an angel," I laughed, "for I eat every

morsel He puts on my plate."

"I perceive that you are a very clever girl. Mrs Thompson," He

continued, "is going home to a luscious supper and saving her

appetite for that."

Passing me a dish with three very shrivelled dates on it, He said:

"Here, Juliet, are the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."

And I ate them up!

A little later Mamma said, looking at the Master with her sweet

shyness: "You are very kind to me."
"God knows the degrees of it," He sighed deeply.
__________

While we sat with Him after dinner, He spoke of tests. "Even the

sword," He said, "is no test to the Persian believers. They are

given a chance to recant; they cry out instead: 'Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!'

Then the sword is raised,"--He shot up His arm as though

brandishing a sword--"they cry out all the more 'Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!'

But some of the people here are tested if I don't say 'How do you

do?'"
12 July 1912

I have almost no time to write these days, as I spend most of them

with the Beloved Master and when I try to write after dinner, my

darling little mother stops me too soon. Her room is at right

angles with mine and at ten o'clock she calls through her window:

"Put out your light, Báby." But there are three or four lovely

things that I must tell.

On Monday, 9 July, the Master invited me, with the Persians to go

to the Natural History Museum. It was a broiling afternoon and I

couldn't imagine why He should want to go to that Museum, and in

the hottest part of the day. But wherever He went, there I wanted

to be.

When we reached the Ninth Avenue corner of the Museum the Master,

exhausted by that time, sank to a low stone ledge to rest. Between

us and the main door on the Central Park corner stretched a long

cross-town block in glaring sun, not a single tree on the sidewalk.

"My Lord," I said, "let me try to find a nearer entrance for You."

And I hurried along the grass, keeping close to the building,

searching the basement for a door. The employees' entrance was

locked. Just beyond stood a sign: "No Thoroughfare." I was rushing

past this when a shrill whistle stopped me, and I turned to face

the watchman of the grounds. He was a little bent old Jew with a

very kind face.

"Oh excuse me," I said, "for breaking the rules, but I must find

a nearer door than the main one. See Who is sitting on that ledge!

I must find it for Him."

The watchman turned and looked at the Master, look-

ed and looked, at that Figure from the East, from the Past--the

Days of the Old Testament--and his eyes became very soft. "Is He

a Jew?" he asked.
"A descendant of Abraham."

"Come with me," said the watchman. "Ask Him to come with me."

I went over and spoke to the Master and He rose and followed with

the Persians, I dropping back to walk with them. There was not a

nearer entrance, but the watchman, taking a risk perhaps, led us

across the grass, where at least it was cooler and the way shorter.

In the Museum we passed through a room in which a huge whale hung

from the ceiling. The Master looked up at it, laughed and said: "He

could hold seventy Jonahs!"

Then He took us straight to the Mexican exhibit, and this seemed

to interest Him very much. In the great elaborately carved glyphs

standing around the room He found traces of Persian art and pointed

them out to me. He told us this sculpture resembled very closely

the ancient sculpture of Egypt. "Only," He said, "this is better."

Then He took me over to the cases where He showed me purely Persian

bracelets.

"I have heard a tradition," I said, "that in the very distant past

this country and Asia were connected."

"Assuredly," answered the Master, "before a great catastrophe there

was such a connection between Asia and America."

After looking at everything in the Mexican rooms, He led us to the

front door and out into the grounds again. Then, stepping from the

stone walk to the grass, He seated Himself beneath a young birch

tree, His back to us, while we stood behind Him on the flags. He

sat there

a long time, silent. Was He waiting for someone? I wondered.

While He--waited?--the old Jewish watchman stole quietly up to me

from the direction of the Museum.

"Is He tired?" he whispered. "Who is He? He looks like such a great

man."

"He is `Abdu'l-Bahá of Persia," I said, "and He has been a great

Sufferer because of His work for the real Brotherhood of Man, the

uniting of all the races and nations."

"I should like to speak to Him," said the Jew. And I took him over

to the tree under which the Master still sat with His back to us.

At the sound of our footsteps He turned and looked up at the

watchman, His brilliant eyes full of sweetness. "Come and sit by

Me," He said.
"Thank You, Sir, but I am not allowed."

"Is it against the rules for Me to sit on the grass?"

The old man's eyes, softly shining, were fixed on the Master. "No,

You may sit there all day!"
But the Master rose and stood beneath the tree.

Such pictures as I see when the Master is in them could never be

put upon canvas--not even into words, except by the sublimest

poet--but I always want to try at least to leave a trace of their

beauty. The Master, luminous in the sunlight, His white robe

flowing to the grass, standing beside the white slender trunk of

the birch tree, with its leafy canopy over His head. The Jew

standing opposite Him--so bent, so old--his eyes, like a lover's,

humbly raised to the face of his own Messiah! As yet unrecognized,

his Messiah, yet his heart worshiped.

Eagerly he went on, offering all he could think of to this

Mysterious One Who had touched him so deeply.

"You didn't see the whole of the Museum. Would You like to go back

after You have rested? You didn't go up to the third floor."

(Unseen by us he must have been following all the time.) "The

fossils and the birds are up there. Wouldn't You like to see the

birds?"
The Master answered very gently, smiling.

"I am tired of travelling and looking at the things of this world.

I want to go above and travel and see in the spiritual worlds. What

do you think about that?" He asked suddenly, beaming on the old

watchman.

The watchman looked puzzled and scratched his head.

"Which would you rather posses," continued the Master, "the

material or the spiritual world?"

Still the old man pondered. At last he brought forth: "Well, I

guess the material. You know you have that, anyway."

"But you do not lose it when you have attained the spiritual world.

When you go upstairs in a house, you don't leave the house. The

lower floor is under you."

"Oh I see!" cried the watchman, his whole face lighting up, "I

see!"

After we parted from the watchman, who walked with us all the way

to the Ninth Avenue corner, leading us again across the grass, I

began to blame myself for not inviting him to the Master's house,

forgetting that the Master Himself had not done so. Every day I

meant to return to the Museum to tell the old man where the Master

lived, but I put off from day to day.

When, at the end of a week, I did run over to the Museum, I found

a young watchman there, who seemed to know nothing of the one he

had replaced.
Had our friend "gone upstairs?"
Why had the Master visited a Museum of Natural

History in the hottest hour of a blistering July day? Had He

instead visited a soul whose need was crying out to Him, to open

an old man's eyes so that he might see to climb the stairs, to take

away the dread of death?[123]
__________

On the tenth of July, I went to the Master in the early morning

with something in my heart to say, but already there were people

with Him and I saw no chance of talking privately.

"Come, Juliet, sit by Me," He called as I entered the room. "Now,

speak."
How could I, before those people? I hesitated.

"All your hopes and desires are destined to be fulfilled," He said,

"in the Kingdom of God."
This was my cue.

"I came to tell You, my Lord, that now I have only one desire, to

offer my heart for Your service."

"This you will also do, but all your desires will be fulfilled."

He kept me to lunch that day. While we were waiting in the English

basement for the lunch to be announced, Valiyu'llah Khan and I

alone with the Master, He spoke again of my "truthfulness".

"Oh," I prayed, "may I some day have all the virtues so that in

every way I can make you happy."

"But he who possesses truthfulness possesses all the virtues," said

the Master. Then He went on to tell us a story. "There was once a

disciple of Muhammad who

asked of another disciple, 'What shall I do to please God?' And the

other disciple replied: 'Do not kill. Do not steal. Do not covet,'

etc., etc., etc. A great many 'do nots'." the Master laughed. "He

asked still another, 'What shall I do to become nearer to God?' And

this one said: 'You must supplicate and pray. You must be generous.

You must be courageous,' etc., etc., etc. Then the disciple went

to 'Ali. 'What do you say I should do in order to please God and

to become nearer to Him?' 'One thing only: be truthful.'

"For," continued the Master, "if you are truthful, you cannot

commit murder. You would have to confess it! Neither can you steal.

You would have to confess it. So, if one is truthful, he possesses

all the virtues.

"I may tell you this," He said to me, and He told me a thing so

wonderful that, even to keep and cherish His words and read them

over in the time to come, I cannot repeat it here.

"My Lord," I said, "if ever I have told You an untruth it was

because I deceived myself."

"There are degrees of truth," He answered, "but that word of yours

which has so pleased Me was absolute, perfect, extraordinary

truth."
__________

That night we walked with Him in "His garden"--Georgie Ralston,

Mirza 'Ali Akbar, Valiyu'llah Khan, Ahmad, and I. Dear Lua, who has

not yet left for California, was ill and unable to be with us.

He led us down a path sloping to the river, flanked by tall

poplars. Sweeping on ahead in His gleaming white robes, He was like

a spirit. The night was very dark, the river and the Jersey

Palisades starred and glittering with lights and there were chains

of lights close to the water.

With a wave of the hand towards them He said: "If only the souls

of men could be thus illumined."

"It is You, my Lord," I said, as I followed close with Valiyu'llah

Khan and Ahmad, "Who put a torch to our souls and light them."

Suddenly out from behind the bushes rushed a crowd of children,

bursting upon us like little demons, capering around us and

hooting. Some of them even picked up stones and threw them. Then

they all began to sing: "Follow the Lord! The Lord leads on!"

Back to us floated the voice of the Master: "The people of the

world are blind. You must have vision. The people of the world are

heedless: see how heedless they are!" and He swept His hand toward

the children, who immediately melted back into the shadows as if

they had never really existed. "You must be aware. The people of

the world are steeped in darkness. You must be immersed in a sea

of light."

We went deep down in the park, close to the river; then turned,

climbed a path, and came out upon the street. Here there was a

stone wall, dividing the park from the sidewalk. The Master leaned

wearily on the wall and gazed far below to the river. He seemed to

be lost in meditation, His face profoundly sorrowful. I thought of

a picture, a poster, which, in the early days of His visit, had

been displayed on all the church doors: the Christ mourning over

the city.

Soon He continued His walk. I turned to Valiyu'llah Khan.

"Oh," I said, "if only I could realize throughout the whole fibre

of my being, feel with every nerve, every atom in me, His Divine

Reality, if only while in His bodily Presence I could be fully

aware of Who He is ..."

He turned and spoke and His face was ineffably gentle and holy and

something in His voice pierced me to the heart. He couldn't have

heard me with the outer ear--I had fallen too far behind and was

whispering, and in English--but how He answered me!

"They laugh at Me, yet My dress is the dress of Jesus, just the

same that He wore."

The people of the world: children! Had the Master Himself evoked

those little demons and made a sort of moving picture of them, to

show us what is to come as we "follow the Lord" in the dark night?

__________

But the very next day another picture, of very different children,

was superimposed upon this.

I had been with the Master all morning. (Later I will write of the

morning.) In the afternoon around three o'clock I returned with

Rhoda Nichols only to meet Him just going out with the Persians.

He smiled, then walked swiftly toward the river, but Ahmad,

dropping behind, called to Rhoda and me: "Come along with us to the

Harrises'." We should have known better than to go, for the Master

had not invited us, but we couldn't resist the temptation. So we

followed up Riverside Drive, then West End Avenue, till we came to

Ninety-Fifth Street, where Mr and Mrs Harris live. A tenement house

neighbourhood.

As we approached Ninety-Fifth Street, there we saw them: the

different children. There must have been nearly a hundred of them,

playing in the street with their hoops and balls. But, when the

Master drew near, all shining white in His long flowing robes, they

immediately stopped playing. It all happened instantaneously. The

next moment they had fallen into formation and were marching down

the street behind Him (we had

turned east toward Central Park), some of them still rolling their

hoops. Without one word they followed, their little faces almost

solemn. They made me think of a real and beautiful Children's

Crusade.

We came to the house where the Harrises live and walked up five

steep flights, but when Mrs Harris opened her apartment door and

Rhoda and I saw a table inside set only for the Master and the

Persians, we backed away terribly embarrassed and lost no time in

getting downstairs. After all, we couldn't have foreseen a luncheon

at three o'clock!

When we opened the street door, there were the children again,

surrounding the house, silently looking up at it. A little

yellow-haired girl came running up the stoop to me. She seemed to

be the spokesman for the others. Breathlessly she asked: "Please,

ma'am, tell us. Is He Christ?"

I sat down on the stoop while the whole crowd of children swarmed

and pushed around me. "I will tell you all about Him," I said. Then

I whispered to Rhoda: "Go upstairs again, dear, and let the Master

know what is happening."

She returned with a wonderful message from the Master, an

invitation to all the children to come to a feast to be given

specially for them at the Kinneys' house next Sunday.

__________

And now just a word about the morning. Georgie Ralston and Mrs

Brittingham, Lua, and I were together in the Master's room. As I

sat there I felt something of the Mystery of His Divinity. The day

was very hot and His sleeves were rolled up and I saw on His arms

the scars of chains.
When the others left He kept me.

"I come to Your Presence, my Lord," I said, "to be cured of my

spiritual ills."

"Your pure heart," the Master answered, "is a magnet for the Divine

feelings."

He spoke of my mother and sent her some fruit. "Your mother," He

said, "is very dear to me. You cannot imagine how I love your

mother."
Then He laughed and asked: "How is Dr Grant?"

"I don't know, my Lord. I haven't seen him. I'm afraid I hurt him

the last time we met."
"What did you do?"
"I refused to go into his house with him."
"How is he with Us?"
"I don't know."
"I want to see him. Is this possible?"
"Yes, I am sure. I will telephone to him."

"Tell him I am longing to see him, longing to see him," repeated

the Master smiling.

I knelt and kissed His robe, looking up so happy, so grateful,

while He looked down and laughed at me.

That night I telephoned to Percy. "I am the bearer of a message to

you," I said, "from the Master. He asked this morning if I had seen

you lately and said He wanted to see you. 'Tell Dr Grant I am

longing to see him,' He said."

"That was very beautiful of Him. Give Him my cordial greetings.

Tell him how happy I am that He thought of me. I can't tell you at

this moment, Juliet, when I can go. I hope tomorrow afternoon. I

have a wedding at half-past four. After that, perhaps."

"Well, I will give you the Master's telephone number and you can

call His house about it, unless you prefer to have me arrange it."

"I should rather do it through you."

Saying he would let me know in the morning, he bade me goodbye;

then, "I give you my loving salutations."

The next morning, however, when he called me up, he was in another

state of mind. "Tell the Master," he said, "I have so many human

engagements just now. I am going up to Greenwich after the wedding.

(Greenwich is Alice Flagler's home.) "But I want to run in to see

you this morning, if I may."

I went to my room and prayed. I was on my knees when he came. Not

that he found me on them!

"To come straight to the point, Percy," I said, "I hope you will

go to see the Master."

"I'm going to see the Master, only I can't today."

"Oh that is all right," I said, brightening. "I didn't understand."

We talked about other things and then Katherine Berwind dropped in.

Percy spent the morning with us, leaving us for a little while to

return with bottles of ginger ale and grape juice which he mixed

into a drink for us. When he finally left about noon I followed him

out of the studio.

"What message have you," I asked, "for the Master?"

He swore! It was a very mild swear, but he coupled the Master's

name with it, so I can't repeat it.

"I believe you love Him," he said fiercely, "more than anything on

earth."
"I do."
"More than your art," he added quickly.
"But of course."

"Well, you shouldn't. With your talent, Juliet, you could do

immortal work. Do you never think of that?"
"I am thinking of His immortal work in us."
"He has done it, in you!"
"Not yet."

"Juliet, I have wanted to co-operate with Him. You know that. But

I don't believe He can do this thing alone."
"I believe He is perfectly able to do it alone."
"You do?"

"He changes the hearts and nobody else can do that. Well, what

message shall I take to Him?"

"Tell Him with my greeting that I will come up some time to see

Him, but I am out of town a great deal, most of the time, and--"

"Can't you do any better than that?" I asked.

"I want to do something for His comfort and when Mr Flagler's yacht

comes back I want to take Him up the Hudson. I will be in town

Friday, Juliet."

"Then come up on Friday to see Him with me. Please come. You know

I don't often persist, but this time--forgive me if I do."

"I think it is beautiful of you to persist in this instance,

Juliet." With the face of a martyr he kissed my hand. "I will come

Friday."
And, looking unspeakably miserable, he left me.
__________

On Friday in the afternoon he stopped for me. We were expecting the

Master in the evening--He was to bless our house with a visit--and

at the moment Percy arrived I was telephoning Marjorie, who had

offered to bring some light refreshment. Percy, sitting in the

living room, heard. But I couldn't invite him, for I knew it would

spoil Mamma's evening with the Master--she mightn't even come into

the room.

While I was putting on my gloves Percy produced a large and ornate

pocketbook. "Juliet," he said, "here is an empty pocketbook which

someone brought me from Italy. Will you accept it? I thought you

might have in mind some Oriental person to whom you would like to

give it."

When we started out he proposed going up in a cab, but I objected

on the grounds that it would be slow and we were already half an

hour late.

"I am bringing the Master down here at six and you would have no

visit at all if we took a slow cab."

"Well, for the matter of that, Juliet"--and his upper lip grew very

stiff--"any visit I might pay would be merely an expression of

affection and courtesy. As for all you could get from a visit of

this sort, where conversation must be through an interpreter and

`Abdu'l-Bahá will go off into a monologue on some subject that

interests Him--well, as I said, it is merely a mark of courtesy."

__________

I never saw his mouth so stubborn as when we entered the Master's

house. The Master was waiting for us, sitting in the bay window of

the English basement.

"Marhaba, Dr Grant! It is a long time since I have seen you, a long

time."

But His welcome was more reserved than it had been before.

"Well, Dr Grant," He said, after a moment, "what is the very latest

news, the very latest?"

Remembering Percy's remark, that the Master always indulged in

monologue, I couldn't help smiling at this.

"The latest news," said Percy with a wicked look, as

obstinate, pugnacious and self-confident as I have ever seen, "is

in the field of athletics."
"The Olympic games?" asked the Master.
"Yes," said Percy, surprised.

"You know," the Master went on, "that these games originated in

ancient Greece and it was a necessity of that time to develop the

body to its fullest strength, the nations being constantly at

warfare and the men wearing armour and fighting hand to hand. Heavy

swords had to be driven through coats of mail; bodies had to be

strengthened to endure the mail."

"But explain to the Master," said Percy, very much de haut en bas,

"that because of the people all centring in the cities and thus

depleting their constitutions, the necessity for physical

development is just as great now as it was then, though the basis

is different."

The Master answered with the utmost sweetness: "We do not deprecate

physical development, for the sound mind should work through a

sound body, but We think that the people of the West are too much

concerned with mere physical development. They forget the need of

spiritual development."

But Percy was bent upon argument. The development of the spirit,

he maintained, could not even begin till the body had first been

built up; and he looked so absurdly condescending, so pompous, so

sure of his power to defeat the Master, that I could scarcely

control my mirth. The Master did not control His.

"Man thinks too much of perfecting the body," He smiled

delightfully, "but of what use is it to him without the perfecting

of the spirit? No matter how much he develops his muscles and

sinews he will never

become as strong as the ox, as brave as the lion or as big as the

elephant! Physically he is an animal, yet inferior to the animals,

for animals acquire their sustenance with the greatest ease,

whereas man has to toil incessantly, to labour with infinite pain,

for a mere livelihood. So, in the physical realm, the beast is

nobler than man. But man is distinguished from the beast by his

spiritual gifts and these he should develop with the other, both

together. There should be the perfect balance, the spiritual and

the physical. A man whose ideal side only is developed is also

imperfect. We do not deprecate comfort. If I could find a better

house than this I would certainly move into it. But man should not

think of comfort alone."

I looked at Percy. He was still like a fighting-cock, ready for

another bout. He would never give in before me, I knew, so I

slipped quietly into the kitchen. When I returned the whole

atmosphere had changed. His face had softened, his stiff mouth

relaxed. As I entered the room the Master was saying: "When one

prays, one sometimes has divine glimpses. So, when one is

spiritually developed, a sublimity of nature is obtained, a

delicacy of vision such as could not otherwise be found. Not only

this, but tranquillity and happiness are secured.

"Do you think if it had not been for spiritual assurance I could

have been happy all those years in prison? Think of it, forty

years! You have just been telling me, Dr Grant, that forty years

is the average American life. I spent My American life in prison.

Yet all that time I was on the heights of happiness. Many believers

in Persia have been forced to give up

everything: their possessions, their families, and, in the end,

their lives, but they never lost their happiness.

"Remember Christ, when they placed the crown of thorns on His head.

At that very moment, as the thorns wounded His brow, He looked down

the vista of the centuries and beheld innumerable kings bowing

their jewelled crowns low before that crown of thorns. Do you think

He did not know, that He could not foresee?" (Again I stole a

glance at Percy. He looked utterly melted now and his eyes shone.)

"When they spat in the face of Christ," the Master went on, "when

they made a mock procession and carried Him around the streets, He

felt no humiliation."

Just then I rose to go, first asking permission, with my eyes, of

the Master, Percy was not inclined to go, even when we were on our

feet. In spite of that momentary softening--perhaps partly because

of it--he still wanted to stay and argue and I could hardly tear

him away.

While we were standing, he swung the master's divine subject to a

combative one, "the Occident versus the Orient": that was the

substance of it. And if ever I saw the Occident embodied, it was

at that moment in that man.

The Master leaned close to him and with the utmost gentleness and

patience tried to appeal to him. The people of the East, He said,

were content with less than the people here, so their hours of work

were shorter. He touched too on the absence of suicide in the

Orient.

When He spoke of suicide, and also while He described the

humiliations heaped on Christ, which could not humiliate Him, I had

a strange sense of impending tragedy for Percy Grant, of something

dreadful to happen

in the future in which he would utterly "lose his happiness" and

would feel humiliation, when perhaps these words of the Master

would come back to him.[124]

On the way down in the cab the Master talked about economics. "The

most important of the questions here," He said, "is the economic

question. Until that is first solved nothing can be done. But if

it should not be solved there will be riots."
Percy spoke of democracy.

"But your poor man," the Master replied, "cannot even think of

economics; he is so overburdened."

I asked Percy to tell about his work and when he had done so, with

some hesitation (for he seldom speaks of himself), the Master said

sweetly: "May you make peace here. May you unite the classes."

Whereupon Percy's face beamed.

But he steeled himself again and at my door he turned to go, though

I did invite him in, and the Master also said: "Are you not coming

in?"
"No, no," and he hurried away, with a huffy look.

I can still see the Master on my steps, so in command.

"Au revoir, Dr Grant," He said.

Percy had mentioned the yacht trip to the Master and asked if He

could make it the following Monday, but the

Master had several appointments Monday and could not accept for

that day.

"I will try," said Percy, "to get the yacht for Tuesday."

The Master had planned to spend the whole evening with us and we

were all to go for a walk, but the Persians had forgotten to

announce at the Seventy-Eighth Street house that He would be absent

Friday evening, so He felt He must return early.
__________

My Lord came into our house. The door was not locked. He opened it

Himself and walked up the stairs. It was His house. Mamma almost

ran to meet Him, her face suffused with joy, her eyes shy and

tender. The MacNutts and the Goodalls had arrived and Ruth Berkeley

and Marjorie, and were waiting in the second-floor living room. The

Master went in and greeted them with His wonderful buoyant

greeting; then I took Him to my room to rest and, after kneeling

and kissing the hem of His garment, left Him lying on my couch.

While He was resting Kahlil Gibran came. He had a private talk with

the Master in my room; then joined us upstairs in the studio, to

which we had all gone by that time, and in a very few minutes the

Master too joined us.

Mamma, with her own loving hands, had prepared the studio for His

reception and it was very beautiful, full of laurel, white roses,

and lighted white candles.

"What a good room," said the Master as He entered it. "It is like

an Oriental room--so high. If I were to build a house here," He

laughed, "I would build an eclectic house--partly Oriental, partly

Occidental."

Then we passed the refreshments and our Beloved Lord "broke bread"

with us.
__________

(Footnote. Of course I was terribly disappointed that the Master

stayed such a short time that night. A few days later I began to

see that this was no accident, that the changing of His plan for

that evening had not been just a result of the Persians'

forgetfulness, but that in it was a deep and subtle lesson for me.

A lesson in perception--or intuition--which is truth itself. I had

asked the Master whom I should invite to meet Him. "Anyone you

think of," He answered. "Whatever name comes into your mind, invite

that person." A few names came into my mind as if projected there

from outside. Percy Grant. At once I rejected that name, on Mamma's

account, as I have explained already. Mrs Krug. Oh no! Mamma wasn't

fond of Mrs Krug. Mrs Kaufman. No. Then I selected my personal

friends. Mrs Krug and Mrs Kaufman both were extremely hurt because

I didn't invite them and what harmony there was between us was

broken for the time being. As for Percy Grant ... !)

16 July 1912

Tuesday, 16 July, the day proposed for the yacht trip up the

Hudson, was a day of crushing disappointment. In the morning I

awoke thinking: Today great things may happen for Percy; miracles

may happen! Still, an instinct made me uneasy.

As soon as I reached the Master's house I asked if Dr Grant had

been heard from. No word had come, Dr Farid told me, and really the

Master ought to know in order to arrange His day's appointments.

"You had better telephone, Juliet."

I went to the corner drugstore and called the Rectory,

only to learn that Percy was still in Greenwich. I called him in

Greenwich.

"Oh, Juliet." He sounded bored. "I have been meaning to telephone

you all morning, but one thing after another has prevented. No, I

am sorry, tell `Abdu'l-Bahá how very sorry I am, but I cannot

arrange the trip for today. Mrs Flagler was in town yesterday and

it didn't agree with her and she isn't well enough to go today."

"I am very sorry," I murmured, so shocked I could scarcely speak.

"When does the Master leave New York?"
"On the twenty-second."

"On the twenty-second? I hope it can be arranged before them."

"I hope so."
"How did the supper go off the other night?"
"What supper?"
"The supper you had for the Master?"
"There was no supper."

"Why, I heard you talking about 'provisions' over the telephone

with Mrs Morten."

"That was only fruit and a cool drink. The Master just paid us a

visit. I asked you to come in."

"Well, I didn't feel that I could. I thought you were going to sit

around a table and that all those Persians you had asked would fill

it up, and that woman you invited at the Master's house. It makes

me shudder, Juliet, to think of all the money you spent that day."

"That was nothing."
"Oh, money is nothing, I suppose!"

"Certainly nothing compared with a visit from the Master." And I

said goodbye.

I went back to the house so ashamed I could hardly

hold up my head: miserably ashamed of Percy Grant, burning up with

indignation at his deliberate insult to the Master, to Him Whose

"dress was the same as the dress of Jesus", an insult levelled at

the Master, the real intention of which was to hurt me. Just a

petty revenge on me.

I gave Percy's wretched message to Dr Farid without any comment;

then stole off alone and wept.

Soon my Lord sent for me. I longed to unburden my heart to Him, but

Grace Krug and Louise were with Him and Grace was telling her own

troubles, speaking of some unhappiness of the day before, so of

course I could say nothing. I sat forcing back my tears, feeling

that at any moment I might burst out crying and that I mustn't do

that in His Presence for any other reason than love.

"And now," said the Master, still talking with Grace, "the sun is

out again! The sun is shining. I am glad of that. I do not like

clouds!"
Oh, what if I cry now, I thought.

"Winds from all directions: from the north, south, east, and

west--great hurricanes--have beaten against My Ark, yet My Ark

still floats." Smiling, He made an adorable gesture with His hands,

swinging them like a rocking boat. "One single wave has submerged

many a great ship, yet My Ark still floats!"

"Juliet," He said, turning suddenly to me, "is there anything you

want to ask Me privately? Biya! (Come)."
He led me by the hand into the back room.
"Now speak. Your eyes are all speech!"

"I only want to say that I am deeply ashamed for Dr Grant. Deeply

sorry. The friend to whose husband the yacht belongs is sick and

he could not get it for today."

"It is better so," said the Master. "I was wondering

how I could do it, for I am not very well today and must be in

Brooklyn this evening at eight o'clock. But I would have done it

for his sake. It is better; better," He ended, with a strange sweet

intonation, as He returned to the other room.
18 July 1912

Each day I drink deeper of the cup of Love. Yesterday the draught

I took was pure ecstasy. I saw Him for three brief moments only,

but those three moments were charged.

First, I saw Him with a few others--Mrs Helen Goodall, Miss Wise,

Ella Goodall Cooper--and He spoke to us of the kindness of God,

holding in His hand my rosary, which He has carried for several

days (the one Khanum gave me in Haifa). When we meet kindness in

a human being He said, how happy it makes us. How much happier we

will be when we realize the kindness of God.

Later He called to Him alone. I met Him as He came downstairs from

His room to the library. He was all in white.

"Ah-h, Juliet," He said. He began to walk up and down the library.

"Your mother sent me these things," (referring to some flowers and

another little present). "These things came from your mother? I

became very happy from them, but she should not have taken the

trouble."

"It made her so happy to send that little offering."

"But she should not have taken the trouble." He continued to walk

up and down. In a moment He said: "I am very much please with your

truthfulness, Juliet.

That matter between us, your truthfulness on that occasion makes

Me happy whenever I think of it."

"Everything in my heart is for You to see, my Lord. I only hope the

day may come when You will see nothing in it except the Love of

God."

He came very close and looked deep into my eyes with His brilliant

eyes.

"I see your heart," He said. "I look into your face and your heart

is perfectly clear to Me."

Again He paced up and down and it was then I knelt.

"Tell the Master," I said to Valiyu'llah Khan, "I pray that my

heart may become entirely detached from this world."

"Your heart," said the Master, pausing before me and gazing at me

with a face of glistening light, "will become entirely detached.

You are now in the condition I desired for you." He walked to the

window and stood, looking out. "I wish you to teach constantly.

Therein lies your happiness, and My happiness."
He came back to me. I had risen.

"I wish you to be detached from the entire world of existence; to

turn to the Kingdom of Abha with a pure heart; with a pure breath

to teach the people. I desire for you," He continued, resuming His

walk, "that which I desire for My own daughters, Tuba and Ruha."

With this He dismissed me.
__________

In the evening I returned to a wedding, Grace Robarts' and Harlan

Ober's, where the Master, for me, as well as for the bride and

bridegroom, turned the water of life into wine.

Grace and Harlan stood together, transfigured; they

seemed to be bathed in white light. Mr Ives, standing opposite,

married them. Back in the shadow sat the Master. There were times

when I, sitting at a little distance from Him, felt His lightning

glance on me. At the end of the service He blessed the marriage.

After this He went upstairs, to the front room on the third floor.

I soon followed him there, taking with me our coloured maid, Mamie,

and her little adopted son, George, a child six years old. Mamie

wanted to have the Master bless him.

On the way up in the bus I had (idiotically) asked: "Do you know

who the Master is, George?"
"No, ma'am," very positively.

"Well, you will know some day, for by the time you grow up the

whole world will know Who the Master is and then you will be so

proud and happy to remember that He blessed you."

The blessing the Master gave George was not an obvious one, there

was nothing ceremonial about it. He just took the child on His knee

and talked playfully with him and caressed him. But how it

impressed that little boy!

While we were going downtown in the bus, he rolled his big eyes up

at me and out of a dead silence said: "I know now, ma'am."

And when Mamie's husband, Cornelius, opened the door for us, George

rushed to him, crying out: "The Master blessed me, dearie, and I

will show you just how."

Then he clattered down the basement stairs and I was spared the

scene! I never did know how George demonstrated it--he couldn't

have taken Cornelius on

his knee!--but the next day Mamie told me of something else.

"Dearie," George had asked, "is the Master that blessed me this

evening the same Master that holds the moon in His hand and makes

the sun shine?"
"Go to bed, child," said Cornelius.

"But," repeated George, "is the Master that same Lord that makes

the sun shine and the rain come down?"

"The Lord that makes the sun shine," said Mamie, "is in the Master

that blessed you this evening, George. It was the Holy Spirit that

blessed you."
__________

(Footnote. 1947. Thirteen years later a handsome young man came to

my door. At first I thought he was Syrian. "Do you remember

George?" he asked. Almost at once he spoke of the Master. "I have

had a rough life among my own people," he said, "but the blessing

He gave me has lived like a fountain in my heart. It has protected

me through all my sufferings. It has inspired me with the resolve

to work for better conditions among my people. And," he went on,

"that other time when He spoke at a big meeting on the first floor

and you brought me up from the basement and stood me on a chair so

that I could see Him plainly, I thought He was God then and was

frightened." Then he described the Master to the minutest detail:

the colour of His eyes, His skin, His hair, even the two tones of

white in the turban He wore.

A few years ago, during the Second World War, I heard of George

again from his real mother. He was in England, practising medicine

and working with the wounded in the hospitals.)
19 July 1912

This morning I went as usual to the Master's house but was stopped

at the door by Alice Beede.

"Fly," she said, "after Mrs Goodall and Ella. They have your

rosary. The Master just gave it to them."

My precious, precious coral rosary--given to me by the Greatest

Holy Leaf! Given on a wonderful occasion, when a young carpenter

living on Mount Carmel had been healed of typhoid fever. Ruha and

I had climbed the mountain to see him and we were trying to help

his mother when Khanum and the Holy Mother arrived with a doctor.

The doctor went into the hut and the rest of us stayed outside,

Khanum sitting on the ground under a tree, praying on this same

rosary. It was dark by then, and very dark in that little garden.

Khanum was all in shadowy white, from her veil to her feet. When

she had finished praying, she glided like a spirit toward me and

threw the coral chain over my head. A few days ago I took this

great treasure to the Master. "This is the dearest thing I

possess," I said, "except Your tablets and the ring You gave me.

If You will use it, my Lord, it will be infinitely dearer."

I ran up the street after Mrs Goodall and Ella Cooper and when I

overtook them said breathlessly: "Alice Beede has just told me that

the Master gave you my rosary."
"Oh! Take it back," said Mrs Goodall.
But I had come to my senses.

"No, no," I answered. "If the Master gave it to you it is yours."

In the afternoon I went again to my Lord. He was sitting in the

English basement, in His lap a tangled pile of rosaries. I sat

between Ahmad and Edward Getsinger. The Master held up a rosary.

"To whom do I return this?" He inquired of Ahmad.

Edward leaned over to me and whispered: "That is the way your

rosary went."
"Oh no, it isn't," I whispered back.
"What did Juliet say?" asked the Master.
"It was nothing, my Lord, nothing," I said.
He smiled and the subject was dropped.[125]
25 July 1912

She Master is gone. Gone to Dublin, New Hampshire.

I shall never forget the day He left, day before yesterday. I went

up early to His house--but oh, too late! On the street I met Mrs

Hutchinson.

"The Master has gone!" she said, her eyes full of tears, her lips

quivering.
"When?"
"Twenty minutes ago."
"I will go to the station."

I jumped on a subway train and reached the station in a few

minutes. But nowhere did I see the Master and the Persians. I

stopped a porter.

"Did a party of foreigners pass through here just now?"

"Egyptians?"

[Photograph of `Abdu'l-Bahá in Dublin, New Hampshire]

"Yes!" There wasn't a minute to explain.
"Yes. Go to track 19."
But track 19 was deserted except for the gateman.

"Has a party of foreigners passed this way?" I asked him.

"Turks?"
"Yes."
"They are on the train."
"I supposed I couldn't go through?"
"Yes, go through, but come right back."

Smiling my thanks, I dashed down the platform. At one of the

windows in the train I saw a white turban.
"Could I get on the car?" I asked the conductor.
"Yes, get on. It's all right."
__________
"Ah-h, Juliet!"
"Goodbye, my Lord."

"Goodbye." He drew me down beside Him. "You should not have

troubled to come here," He said.
"My heart wouldn't let me do otherwise."

"I will see you in a month.[126] Give My greetings to your mother,

to all the friends; to Mrs Krug, Miss Boylan."

Closely, closely He pressed my hand, pouring the attar of rose of

His Love upon me. Then once more He said goodbye and I left.

It had been too bold, yet even against the rules every door had

opened to me.
__________

The last time I talked with the Master was the day before He left.

Sure that He was to leave that morning,

the twenty-second, I went very early to His house, with eight

palm-leaf fans in my hands. Mamma had sent them for the Master and

the Persians to use on the hot journey.

The master was sitting in the English basement at the window. He

called me to a chair opposite Him. "What are all those for?" He

asked, laughing, waving His hand toward the fans.

I laughed too, for they did look funny. I explained their purpose

and that they were from Mamma.

For a while I sat in silence before Him. Then suddenly I realized

that He was about to leave us, that in just a few minutes He would

be gone. I began to cry quietly.

"Tell Juliet," laughed the Master, "that I am not going today."

At this the sun came out! But soon by tears were flowing again,

this time because His love was melting me.

"Why are you crying, Juliet? I am not going today!"

__________

In the afternoon He called me to Him and I had twenty minutes alone

with Him and Valiyu'llah Khan. I sat with over-brimming eyes,

drinking in the Glory of His Presence.

"Oh Valiyu'llah Khan," I said, "say to the Master for me that I

know He is the Sun and I pray He will always encircle me with His

rays."

"You are very near Me," He answered, "and while you speak the truth

you will always be with Me. I pray that you may become the candle

of New York, spreading the Light of Love all around you."

After this we sat silent in His Presence, silent for a long time.

Once again He saw me when Marjorie came. He told

her she was my child, my "little chicken" and said we must comfort

each other after He has gone. Green Acre, Maine, 1947

If only I had written of Green Acre day by day while we were there

with Him! There are unforgettable things, but so many details,

precious details, have slipped away.

Mamma and I were in Bass Rocks when the Master's invitation reached

us. Bass Rocks, on a cliff above the ocean, was Mamma's paradise

and we could never afford more than two weeks of it. So, when

Ahmad's postcard came, with word from the Master that He wished us

to spend three days with Him in Green Acre, all she could think of

at first was that three days would be lost from her paradise!

"I won't go," she said.

"Oh, Mamma, an invitation from a king is a command, and this is

from the King of kings."

"Well, I'll go for just one night and no more. And I won't take a

suitcase. Just a little Irish bundle, so that we can't stay more

than one night."

So she packed our little Irish bundle: two night-gowns, two

toothbrushes, our combs and brushes and a change of underwear.

When we arrived at the Green Acre Inn the Master met us at the door

with His loving Marhaba; then He drew me into the dining room.

"She does not want?" He asked in English.

I couldn't tell the truth then, but of course He knew.

__________

Pictures come back to me. Mamma and I following Him down a path to

the Eirenion, where He was to speak

to the believers. He was all in white in the dark. Mamma whispering

to me: "It is like following a Spirit."

A tussle day after day to keep Mamma in Green Acre, in which dear

Carrie Kinney helped me.

A night when a horrifying young man came to a meeting at the

Kinneys' house. From head to foot he was covered with soot. His

blue eyes stared out from a dark grey face. This was Fred

Mortenson. He had spent half his boyhood and young manhood in a

prison in Minneapolis. Our beloved Albert Hall, who was interested

in prison work, had found him and taken him out on parole and given

him the Bahá'í Message. But Albert Hall was dead when the Master

came to America.

Fred Mortenson, hearing that `Abdu'l-Bahá was in Green Acre, and

having no money to make the trip, had ridden the bumpers [on

freight trains] to His Presence.

He came into the meeting and sat down and was very unhappy when the

Master, pacing back and forth as He talked, took no notice of him.

"It must be that He knows I stole a ride," thought Fred (who told

me all about it afterward). But no sooner was the meeting over and

the Master upstairs in His room than He sent for Fred.

Fred had said nothing to anyone about his trip on the bumpers, but

the minute he entered that upstairs room the Master asked smiling

and with twinkling eyes: "How did you enjoy your ride?" then He

took from Fred's hand his soot-covered cap and kissed it.

Years later, during the First World War, when the American

believers sent ten thousand dollars for the relief of the starving

Arabs, the messenger they chose to carry the money through the

warring countries was: Fred Mortenson. The Master declined the ten

thousand

dollars, relieving the Arabs Himself by His own hard labour. He

went to His estate near Tiberius and Himself ploughed the fields

there; then stored all the grain in the Shrine of The Báb.

For this He was knighted by Great Britain when British rule

replaced Turkish in Palestine. It was meant as an honour, but to

me it was like an insult. It nearly killed me after that to direct

my supplications to Sir `Abdu'l-Bahá 'Abbas.
__________
But to return to Green Acre.

One day the Master, speaking from the porch of somebody's cottage,

while the believers sat on the grass below, made this fascinating

statement: "We are in affinity now because in pre-existence we were

in affinity."

"Let's ask Him what He means by that," whispered Carrie to me.

So, in the evening, while the Master was in our room--Mamma's and

mine--and Carrie sitting there with us, I put the question to Him.

"I will answer you later," He said.
But He never did, outwardly.

In a minute or so Mamma, with that funny boldness of hers which

would sometimes burst through her timidity, said: "Master, I would

like to see You without Your turban."

He smiled. "It is not our custom, Mrs Thompson, to take off our

turbans before ladies, but for your sake I will do it."

And oh, the beauty we saw then! There was something in the silver

hair flowing back from His high forehead, something in the shape

of the head, which, in spite of His age, made me think of Christ.

There was another night, when Carrie, Mamma, and I and a few other

believers were sitting in the second-floor hall. Suddenly, on the

white wall of the floor above, at the head of the staircase, the

Master's great shadow loomed. Mamma slipped over to the foot of the

stairs and looking up with adoring eyes, called: "Master!"

And still another night. This was our third in Green Acre. Again

we were sitting in the second-floor hall, but now the Master was

in our midst.

"We must say goodbye tomorrow," Mamma said to Him.

"Oh no, Mrs Thompson," He laughed. "You are not going tomorrow. One

more day." and He laughed again. "You see, I am leaving for Boston

day after tomorrow and you are of My own family. Therefore you must

travel with Me."

And Mamma submitted now with a satisfaction wonderful to see. She

was proud as a peacock. "He said I was of His own family," she kept

repeating to me.

Once He called Mamma and me into His room and among other things

He said was this: "There are correspondences, Mrs Thompson, between

heaven and earth and Juliet's correspondence in heaven is Mary of

Magdala."
__________

(This diary, owing to the fact that it was written under

difficulties, has large areas left out of it. I find that I have

not spoken of what seemed then such a crucial thing--Lua's

departure for California. But since she was not at our house when

the Master visited us on 12 July, and my last account of being with

her is dated the morning of 11 July, I'm sure she must have left

the night of the eleventh.

I have just one story to tell of Lua, with the Master, in

California. I want to tell it for two reasons. First: because of

its value and also its humour; then because another version of it

is still being told by the believers, less direct and much less

like the Master. This is how I had it from Lua herself.

She and Georgie Ralston (who had gone with Lua to California) were

driving one day with the Master, when He closed His eyes and

apparently feel asleep. Lua and Georgie talked on, I imagine about

their own concerns, for suddenly His eyes sprang open and He

laughed.

"I, me, my, mine: words of the Devil!" He said.) New York

November 1912
The Master is here again!

I met Him at the boat last Monday, 11 November. I met Him alone.

And this is how that happened. At noon on 11 November, Mirza

'Ali-Akbar arrived from Washington to find living quarters for the

Masters and the Persians. I had had a wire from him earlier, asking

me to meet him at the station and to house-hunt with him, which I

did. The Master was to come at ten that night and we thought we had

plenty of time to notify the friends so that they could meet His

ferryboat, but later another wire came to our house, relayed to me

through Mamma and Mr Mills at Mrs Champney's (and luckily catching

me there), saying that the Master would arrive at eight. Through

a series of accidents, Mr Mills' chauffeur landed us first

somewhere in New Jersey and then at the Liberty Street station, and

there was no time to telephone anybody.

"This will be very bad," said Mirza 'Ali-Akbar, but we couldn't

help it.

We had accomplished everything else, had rented again the dear

house on Seventy-Eighth Street (Mrs Champney's) and found extra

rooms for some of the Persians.

Now, Mirza 'Ali-Akbar insisted on my taking Mr Mills' car and going

at breakneck speed to the Twenty-Third Street station to try to

meet the Master there, if He should come that way, while he himself

waited at Liberty Street.

I reached Twenty-Third Street just in time. The ferryboat was

approaching and very close to the dock. Standing at the end of the

pier, I saw it with its chain of lights. I saw Dr Farid. Then the

Master rose from a seat on the deck and entered the brightly lit

cabin.
Soon He came toward me down the gangplank.

"Ah, Juliet," He said, taking my hand in His and drawing me along

with Him, so that I walked beside Him. But He didn't invite me to

drive to His house with Him. Instead, He sent me back after Mirza

'Ali-Akbar--Dr Baghdadi and Mirza Mahmud going with me. We returned

all together to Seventy-Eighth Street.

Oh, to see Him in that house again, sitting in His old corner in

the English basement, the corner in the bay window!

__________

I had been very naughty with Mamma that day and had grieved her.

My precious mother was brought up in luxury, lived in luxury until

Papa died. She cannot get over her sensitiveness about our

too-apparent poverty and she simply won't have people to meals. I

had begged her to make an exception of Mirza 'Ali-Akbar, who was

arriving at such an awkward hour, and to let me bring him back for

lunch. But she wouldn't hear of it.

Whereupon I flew into a temper, told her what I thought of her

"false pride", and stamped out of the house.

Now, entering the Master's house with the three Persians, instead

of a welcome, I received a blow. The Master didn't even look at me.

"How is your mother?" were His first words. "Is she happy?"

Then He told me to go straight back to her but to return the next

day. I went back and comforted her with His rebuke to me.

__________

Early as I could on 12 November, I sought His Beloved Presence.

Ruth and Lawrence White (who have lately been married) were with

Him and Rhoda and Marjorie. It seems impossible sometimes for the

physical ear, or the human mind, to retain His Divine Words. They

moved me to tears.

"Don't cry! Don't cry!" said the Master, with His infinite

tenderness.

The twelfth of November, the Birthday of Bahá'u'lláh, was the day

of Mrs Krug's meeting and never, never shall I forget it.

There, at Mrs Krug's, the Master invoked Bahá'u'lláh. And as His

cry, "Ya Bahá'u'lláh!" rang out, I hid my eyes, for it was as

though He were calling Someone the same plane with Him, Someone

Whom He saw, and Who would certainly come.

He came--the Blessed Beauty, the Lord of Hosts. A Power flashed

into our midst, a great Sacred Power ... I can find no words.

Burning tears poured down my cheeks. My heart shook.

After the meeting, the Master, Who was resting in another room,

sent for me. I had supplicated through

Valiyu'llah Khan that He would come to the meeting at our house

Friday.

"Tomorrow, Juliet," He said, "I will tell you about your meeting.

Now go back to the house and wait till I come."

I did so and He soon came--came and sat in the corner of the window

in the English basement just as He used to last summer. Carrie

Kinney was there and Mr Hoar.

He had spoken so often in public and in private of an inevitable

world war, warning America not to enter it, that I felt moved to

mention it now.

"Will the present war in the Balkans," I asked, "terminate in the

world war?"

"No, but within two years a spark will rise from the Balkans and

set the whole world on fire."

Soon He rose and calling, "Come, Juliet," and beckoning to

Valiyu'llah Khan, took us out to walk in "His garden", that narrow

strip of park above the river. As we followed Him, Valiyu'llah Khan

said: "How blessed to be walking in His footsteps!"

He led us to a bench and sat down between us, clasping my hand

tightly. And then He began to ask me questions: question after

question about the believers in New York, as to a certain condition

among them, a lack of firmness in the Covenant, which I had never

suspected--of which I was really ignorant. Of course, I did know

that earlier there had been awful confusion--some teaching that

`Abdu'l-Bahá was like Peter, others that He was Jesus Himself--but

I thought that time was past.

"But I don't know, my Lord!" I said. "If I knew, I would tell you."

"I know you don't know," He laughed, "and I do

know. There are many things I know that you do not know. I was only

testing you. I have loved you for your truthfulness, for the truth

you spoke in a matter you remember. I wanted to see if your heart

were in the same state of truthfulness." Then He said: "With those

who are against the Centre of the Covenant you must not associate

at all. When you find that a soul has turned away from the Covenant

you must cut yourself off completely from him. You will know these

people. You will see it in their faces." (How on earth, I thought,

could I trust my judgement of the faces? He answered my unspoken

thought at once.) "You will see a dimness on the faces, like the

letting down of a veil."

"My Lord," I said, "I feel that I have failed in everything. I have

failed You in all my pitiful efforts to bring about unity. And I

know my failure has been due to lack of strict obedience."

"Obedience," said the Master, "is firmness in the Covenant. You

must associate with the steadfast ones." He mentioned three people

who, since His return--since I met His ferryboat alone--have

wreaked their displeasure on me, one of whom had even "scandalized

my name" (!) for several years; then added to the list--Mason

Remey. This was bitter! "You must be a rock, as they are rocks."

"My Lord," I asked, with a sinking heart, "am I not firm in the

Covenant?"
"You could be more firm," He laughed.
"Oh, my Lord!"
He rose and we began to walk.

"I had hoped," I said miserably, "that nobody loved You better than

I."
"I know you love Me, Juliet," He answered, "but

there are degrees of love." Then He told me He carried a

measuring-rod in His hand by which He measured the love of the

people and that rod was obedience.

At the corner, at the entrance to the park, He paused. "You must

love Me," He said, "for the sake of God."
"You are all I shall ever know of God!"

"I am the Servant of God. You must love Me for His sake and for the

sake of Bahá'u'lláh. I am very kind to you Juliet," He added.

"I know, my Lord."

"Now go back to your mother, so that she may be pleased with you!"

He laughed, and left me to wait for the bus.

But when He had crossed the street, when I saw Him stop for a

moment to speak to Valiyu'llah Khan, I sank on the chain of the

fence utterly broken-hearted.

Oh I am nothing, nothing, I thought. I have done nothing but fail

Him. Which was just what He wanted me to see, I suppose.

But, could it be that I was not firm? I examined my character: Yes,

it was unstable.
__________

On Wednesday, 14 November, I went very early to my Lord's house.

He was on the point of going out, but He called me to Him.

"My Lord," I said, as He paced up and down His room, "I want to

thank You for Your great mercy last night. I was asleep and You

woke me."

"I pray you may ever be awake. There are a few souls in America,"

He continued, "whom I have chosen to be teachers in this Cause. You

are of those, Juliet. I wish you to have all the qualities of a

teacher. That is all."

Then He asked me to wait till His return. I waited all

day. At five o'clock He came and called me to His room on the upper

floor. With that exquisite courtesy of His, the sweetness of which

almost breaks the heart, He--I can hardly write it--asked me to

excuse Him for keeping me waiting.

"To wait for You, my Lord, is joy. Oh these blessed days when we

can wait for You!"

He went on to tell me why He had been detained ...

__________

(The record of this last month must be sketchy. I cannot copy it

all, as it concerns other people, and conditions that are past and

best forgotten.
28 November 1912

It is Thanksgiving Day, and I am thankful--thankful and happy.

Everything that means my personal happiness, even every hope is

lost. My Lord has entirely stripped my life. But I pray that He has

freed my spirit.

On 15 November, the Master came to our house (48 West Tenth Street)

and gave a most wonderful talk in the front room on the first floor

to a great crowd of people who filled both the front and back rooms

and the hall.[127] I brought George up from the basement and stood

him on a chair, so that he could see the Master. He thought the

Master was God and was frightened.

Driving down to us with Mrs Champney, our Lord had said: "The time

has come for Me to throw bombs!" And He threw them in His talk that

night.

"I have spoken," He said, "in the various Christian churches and

in the synagogues, and in no assembly has

there been a dissenting voice. All have listened and all have

conceded that the Teachings of Bahá'u'lláh are superlative in

character, acknowledging that they constitute the very essence or

spirit of this age and that there is no better pathway to the

attainment of its ideals. Not a single voice has been raised in

objection. At most there have been some who have refused to

acknowledge the Mission of Bahá'u'lláh, although even these have

admitted that He was a great teacher, a most powerful soul, a very

great man. Some who could find no other pretext have said: 'These

Teachings are not new; they are old and familiar; we have heard

them before.' Therefore, I will speak to you upon the distinctive

characteristics of the Manifestation of Bahá'u'lláh and prove that

from every standpoint His Cause is distinguished from all others."

And in this address, which was one of His most powerful, the Master

certainly proved it. The address was taken down and will be

printed.
__________

On 18 November, at the Kinneys' house, the Master put Howard

MacNutt through a severe ordeal, an inevitable ordeal.

Mr MacNutt had been one of the few who, when I first came to New

York, had taught that the Master was "like Peter"--just a glorified

disciple. But for years he had never mentioned this point of view,

and I thought he had gotten over it.

In Chicago there are some so-called Bahá'ís who are still connected

with Khayru'llah, the great Covenant-breaker, and last week the

Master sent Mr MacNutt to Chicago to see them and try to persuade

them to give up Khayru'llah; otherwise he was to cut them off from

the

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá with His Persian entourage in the garden

of Howard MacNutt, New York, 1912.]

faithful believers. He--Mr MacNutt--wrote Diya Baghdadi that he had

found these people "angels", and did nothing about the situation.

He had just returned to New York and was to meet the Master at the

Kinneys' house that evening, 18 November, for the first time since

his unfruitful trip. I was in the second-floor hall with the Master

and Carrie Kinney when he arrived. The Master took him to His own

room. After some time they came out together into the hall.

An immense crowd had gathered by then on the first floor, which is

open the whole length of the house.

I heard the Master say to Mr MacNutt: "Go down and tell the people:

'I was like Saul. Now I am Paul, for I see."
"But I don't see," said poor Howard.
"Go down and say: 'I was like Saul.'"

I pulled his coattail. "For God's sake," I said, "go down."

"Let me alone," he replied in his misery.
"GO DOWN," commanded the Master.

Mr MacNutt turned and went down, and his back looked shrunken. The

Master leaned over the stair rail, His head thrown far back, His

eyes closed, in anguished prayer. I sat with Carrie on the top

step, watching Him. This is like Christ in Gethsemane, I thought.

We could hear the voice of Howard MacNutt stumbling through his

confession: "I was like Saul." But he seemed to be saying it by

rote, dragging through it still unconvinced. Nevertheless when he

came upstairs again, the Master deluged him with love.

By that time the Master was back in His room and as Mr MacNutt

appeared at the door, He ran forward to meet him. Our Lord was all

in white that night and as

He ran with His arms wide open He looked like a great flying bird.

He enfolded Howard in a close embrace, kissed his face and neck,

welcomed with ecstasy this broken man who, even though bewildered,

had obeyed Him.

The next night while Mamma, Miss Annie Boylan[128] and I were

together in the Master's Presence, Miss Annie Boylan brought up Mr

MacNutt's name and spoke gloatingly of his chastisement.

The Master sighed. "I immersed Mr MacNutt in the fountain of Job

last night," He said.
__________

The next morning, Sunday, 24 November, I hastened to the Master's

house. I knew it would be full of people, friends from other towns

who had come to attend the banquet and to be with the Master during

His last days here. I knew Mason Remey was in New York and that I

should have to meet him, perhaps this morning; and to face him

before the Master and all the believers would be misery. Our

engagement, in the eyes of the believers, had been the most ideal

romance:[129] I had seen many moved to tears by it, and when the

engagement was broken, every one of them had resented it, taking

up cudgels for Mason and putting the entire blame on me. As for

Mason, he had said: "I am an Indian. I never forgive."

For over a year Mason and I had avoided each other in perfectly

absurd ways. When I had to go down to Washington, I had written

him: "Please stay away from the meetings while I am there." (!)

Then one day, in Washington, when I boarded a moving, rocking

street

car, I fell backward on somebody's lap and turned to find myself

sitting on Mason's knees! I haven't seen him since and now, as I

approached the Master's house, knowing he would surely be

inside--if not at that moment, very soon--I wanted to turn and run.

Suddenly I saw that all this was nonsense and should be overcome

at once, before the Master's departure. An idea occurred to me. I

stood on the doorstep a minute or two bracing myself to carry it

out, to walk boldly up to Mason and say: "Let's go to the Master

now and tell Him we are friends again and want to work together in

the old way as a real brother and sister in the Cause." All at

once, though still a little shy, I felt eager to do this, to put

things right.

I opened the door, and there stood Marie Hopper, evidently waiting

to waylay me. She looked very mysterious, important and excited.

"Juliet," she said, "I must have a word with you. There is

something I have to do."

Then she exhorted me to marry Mason. She told me she knew the

Master wished it; she had "private information". The Master had

said I would "suffer" until I did marry him

"If I have to suffer," I said, "I prefer a respectable martyrdom!

I'd be nothing but a common prostitute if I married him. And I

can't believe, Marie, that the Master really said this."

May Maxwell came up at that moment, very earnest and starry-eyed,

to reinforce Marie.

"Very well," I said, "I will talk with the Master myself about it.

He is just upstairs, thank God, no further away than the top floor

of this house, and whatever He wants me to do, I will do."

I went up with Valiyu'llah Khan. But first I stopped on

the third floor and had a little private cry with Valiyu'llah.

Percy Grant was to come the next day to the Master--this would be

his last visit--and who could tell what would happen then; what

miracle might not happen; what change might not take place in him?

And now, Mason Remey looming up again!

We found the Master on the point of going out, standing in His

room, holding a big, white, folded umbrella. I knelt and He pressed

my head against His arm and took my hand in a tight clasp. "Speak,"

He said.

"Tell the Master, Valiyu'llah Khan, that I know He will laugh at

this, because I want to speak about marrying Mason. I have heard

from Marie Hopper that the Master wishes it. If He really does wish

it, I am ready."

"Na! Na!" (No! No!) said the Master. His eyes were twinkling and

the corners of His mouth quivering as though He were trying not to

smile. "It was this way," He said. "I never interfere. Mrs Hopper

came and told me that she wanted to unite you and Mr Remey. I said

'Very well, try.' But it is just as I wrote you long ago. Unless

there is perfect agreement--perfect harmony--love, these things are

not good."
I kissed His tender hand.

Needless to say, after this, I couldn't go near Mason Remey.

__________

On 20 November, the Master spent the morning in my little

room.[130] Once more His Glory shone in my room; His Life was

diffused in it. It is a sanctuary now to me, like a chapel in our

house.

He had brought Mrs Champney with Him and Mr MacNutt and, during the

morning, Mr MacNutt, who

was standing behind the Master very humbly, lifted the hem of His

'aba to his lips.

Mamma brought the Master some soup which she had prepared

especially for Him.

"I was just wishing for soup," He said sweetly. "You, Mrs Thompson,

have the reality of love."

Mamma then showed Him Papa's picture and He kissed it.

After a while He left us and was absent for some time. When He came

back He said: "I have been in every room in your house."

And when He bade us goodbye, as He swung down the stairs with His

powerful step, His voice rang out: "This house is blessed."

After He had gone I sat in the chair He had sat in and wrote an

appeal to Percy Grant: "I tried to reach you by phone this morning

to tell you the Master is soon returning to Haifa and that He

wishes to take His portrait with Him." (Percy had been exhibiting

it in the chapel of his Parish House.) "And to ask if some time

tomorrow I could come for it. I want to thank you too for your

hospitality to the Master's picture and for your beautiful

reference to it last Sunday, of which I have heard.

"You have given to many an opportunity to see at least a portrayal,

if a very weak one, of a dear face which I doubt if most of us will

see again. He is going back into dangerous conditions. Dear Percy,

will you let Him go without saying goodbye to Him? Only the other

day he was speaking of you."

To this I received a very stiff answer, merely asking the date of

the Master's sailing and His address.
__________

On Saturday, the twenty-third, the Master spent most of the day in

Montclair. When I went to His Seventy-

Eighth Street house in the late afternoon I was met with joyous

news. By staying over in Montclair He had missed reserving His

passage on the Mauretania and His sailing was now delayed! Also I

heard that Percy had telephoned and asked for permission to call

Monday.

That night the Master gave a banquet at the Great Northern Hotel.

May Maxwell, Marie Hopper, Marjorie, Rhoda, Mamma, and I sat at the

same table. Just before the food was served the Master rose from

his seat, a vial of attar of rose in His hand, and passed among all

the tables, anointing every one of His guests. As His wonderful

hand, dripping perfume, touched my forehead, as He scattered on my

hair the fragrant drops, my whole being seemed to wake and sparkle.

At the end of His talk[131] He said: "Such a banquet and such an

assemblage command the sincere devotion of all present and invite

the down-pouring of the blessings of God. Therefore be ye assured

and confident that the confirmations of God are descending upon

you, the assistance of God will be given unto you, the breaths of

the Holy Spirit will quicken you with a new life, the Sun of

Reality will shine gloriously upon you and the fragrant breeze of

the rose gardens of Divine Mercy will waft through the windows of

your souls. Be ye confident and steadfast ..."
__________

The following morning, 25 November, I spent with the Master. One

heavenly thing He said was this: "I have searched throughout the

length and breadth of this land for flames, I want the flames! The

solid ones are no good." Then He told me I was a flame. And He

spoke

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá in banquet at the Great Northern Hotel,

23 November 1912.]

beautifully of Mamma: "If I had a mother like yours, Juliet, I

would never deviate, even by a hair's breadth, from her wishes."

That night Mamma went to see Him with me. He was looking utterly

spent, but He insisted on keeping us--wouldn't let us go for at

least an hour.

In the meantime, at five o'clock, Percy Grant had come. The Master

was out but expected back any minute. He had had to address a

Women's Club early in the afternoon and from there was to go to Mrs

Cochran's. Through Valiyu'llah Khan, He had asked me to wait and

detain Percy. While I was waiting in the English basement, Carrie

and Mrs Champney with me, a taxicab stopped at the door; then in

came Dr Grant, very big and rigid, his black clerical broadcloth

and his white clerical collar firmly moulded around him.

Soon the Master returned. I can still see that Figure entering the

room like a mighty Eastern king, in His long green 'aba, edged with

white fur, His white turban; I can see His outstretched arms, His

divinely sweet smile; can hear the music of His voice: that long

"Oh-h! Oh-h!" of welcome. "Oh-h! Oh-h!, Dr Grant!" as though to

meet Dr Grant were the most delectable thing on earth.

Then He took Percy's hand and held it, never letting it go while

I saw them together, and began to talk smilingly to him.

"You must excuse me for keeping you waiting, Dr Grant. I am very,

very sorry to have kept you waiting, very sorry. But I was captured

by three hundred women this afternoon. Is it not a dreadful thing

to be captured by so many women? (At this I felt wickedly amused.)

"The women in America dominate the men," the Master continued.

"Come upstairs with Me." And still

holding Percy by the hand, with the lightness of a spirit He led

him up the first flight. I shall never cease to see those two

figures. The King of the East--and the West--in the garments of an

Eastern king, leading the way to an upper chamber; the resistant

clergyman, hardened into his clerical clothes, stiffly following,

pulled up the stairs by a too strong hand.

But when Percy came down, after a very long time, his whole face

was changed. His eyes were like burning stars, his mouth softened,

relaxed. He grasped my hand and pressed it. "May I take you home,

Juliet?"
"Thanks, Percy, I am staying here for a while."

Soon after he left, Dr Farid rushed down the stairs to me.

"There is hope--great hope," he said. "He was a changed man today.

Entirely different from last summer. He seemed deeply touched at

the thought of the Master returning into danger and asked if we

would cable him if any trouble should arise, so that he might do

whatever he could. He asked also if, from time to time, the Master

would send him news, 'through one of your humblest followers,' he

said.

"When he spoke of danger the Master replied that He had never

feared danger and told him the story of the Turkish Investigating

Committee sent to 'Akka by 'Abdu'l-Hamid. How the verdict of this

Committee was that He--`Abdu'l-Bahá--must die; that He must either

be crucified at the gate of 'Akka or sent alone to the desert of

Fezan, where He would inevitably starve. How at that time the

Italian consul, a friend, had arranged for a ship to be sent to

Haifa, ostensibly with cargo, but really to help the Master escape.

And how the Master had said: 'My Father, Bahá'u'lláh, never

delivered Himself, though He had the opportunity. From this

Prison He spread His Teachings. I, therefore, will follow in His

footsteps. I will not deliver Myself.'

"Then," Dr Farid went on, "the Master told Dr, Grant of the

hastening of the Committee to Turkey to lay its verdict with all

possible speed before the Sultan, but before they landed on Turkish

soil, 'the cannon of God had boomed forth at the gates of the

Sultan's palace.' 'Abdu'l-Hamid was deposed by the rising of the

Young Turks and `Abdu'l-Bahá set free.
"'So,' ended the Master, 'God delivered Me.'"

The miracle had happened. Percy Grant was "a changed man!"

__________
Not long was I allowed to cherish my hope!

The next day, 26 November, while I was waiting in the Master's

house, He sent Dr Baghdadi to bring me to His room. May Maxwell was

with Him and Dr Baghdadi remained. I sat on the floor at my Lord's

feet.

Smiling down on me, He said: "Why does Mrs Maxwell love you so,

Juliet?"
"Because she is my spiritual mother."

"In Montreal, when I was staying with her, she was always

mentioning your name and Lua's. 'Juliet, Lua. Juliet, Lua. Juliet,

Lua,'" chanted the Master. "That was her song."

"May and Lua, May and Lua," I smiled, "are the two dearest names

to my heart."
"This is well," said the Master.

May turned to Dr Baghdadi. "Ask the Master," she said, "if I may

be allowed to speak of something to Him." And when she had received

permission: "My heart is tortured at the thought of all the

children who are starving for love in these days. So little is

understood
[Photograph of Juliet Thompson and may Maxwell]

of the privileges of motherhood. The children are left to nurses

and brought up in blighting environments. I want to ask His prayers

for the mothers of America. Juliet," she whispered to me, "join in

this supplication."

I put my best foot forward to support her: "I should like to join

in May's supplication that the women may soon realize that

motherhood is their first function." But, even as I spoke the words

I saw how funny they were, coming from me--and that I had spread

a snare for my own feet, which I suspect May wanted me to do!

The Master smiled broadly.

"What are you doing advocating this, Juliet? Where are your

children? Mrs Maxwell has a child, but where are yours? If you had

married, you too could have brought children to me, one to sit on

each knee! A sterile woman is like a fruitless tree. Of course,"

He added, smiling again and quoting my words of last summer, "of

course you will say: 'What can I do with my heart.'"

"No, I won't say that any more," I answered. "You can do something

with my heart if I cannot. You can make me a new heart. And now,

since the Master has spoken of this," I said to Dr Baghdadi, "there

is something I should like to ask Him. Last spring and summer He

was indefinite with me about ... Dr Grant; perhaps, as I have been

thinking lately, because I wasn't strong enough to bear the truth.

But I believe I am stronger now and ready, at a word from Him, to

renounce this hope. Is it not to be fulfilled?"

"No," said the Master. "Otherwise, I would have told you."

For a moment we sat in His Presence silent. In the fire of that

Presence, in that little moment, my hope of twelve years melted

away. As it vanished, a miracle happened. The Being sitting before

me, now writing on a bit

of parchment held in the palm of His hand, changed from a body to

a sun-like Spirit. I saw Him translucent, luminous, and depths of

iridescence opened behind Him.

"Oh," I cried, tears coursing down my cheeks, "since that phantom

of a hope went, I have entered the Presence of God."

The Master said nothing. He was still writing, writing

mysteriously.

"May," I whispered, "do you remember that prayer: 'As the Pen moves

over the pages of the Tablet by which the musk of significances in

the world of creation is exhaled?'"

After a while the Master looked up. "I wish you to marry, Juliet,"

He said. "I wish you to bring Me children to hold on My knees. God

will send someone to you who will be agreeable to you."

What did it matter?

"May I ask one thing, my Lord? May I supplicate for Percy's soul,

that in the end he will see the truth?"

"We must always pray for him," answered the Master.

Mrs Krug and Carrie came in then. I hated to cry before them, but

I couldn't stop.

"Don't cry, don't cry," said the Master, as only He can say it.

"Oh, that Voice!" whispered May.

"No, no. Don't cry." This from Grace Krug, with a very disapproving

look.

"I seem to be in flames, my Lord--the flames of Thy love, Thy

Presence--and to be melting."
But He saw deeper. "Khayr," (no) He said slowly.
"NO!" echoed Mrs Krug.

"You must be happy," the Master ended, "because of this thing I

have told you."

As I said, this happened in the afternoon of 26 November. The

morning had been a tremendous one.

Knowing that my Lord would be at the Kinneys', I went directly

there. On the way up in the bus a great wave of tears, like a tidal

wave, rose from my heart (I didn't know why) and threatened at any

moment to break over me.

I found the Master on the upper floor of the Kinneys' house with

the Persians, Carrie and Ned, Nellie Lloyd, and Mr Mills. The

Tablet of the Branch[132] was being translated under the

supervision of the Master. Dr Baghdadi and Dr Farid were working

on it, submitting it time after time to the Master before He was

satisfied with their rendering. I shall never forget His sternness,

His terrific majesty as He directed that translation.

The wave of tears did break as I listened and watched. I was shaken

beyond all control. Mirza Mahmud and Valiyu'llah Khan tenderly

tried to calm me.
7 December 1912

28 November, Thanksgiving Day, was to be a day of rest for our

Beloved Lord. It had been given out that no one would be received

at the house that day. So, when the telephone rang about noon and

Ahmad, at the other end, asked me to come immediately to the

Master, I felt so singled out and privileged! And to be alone with

Him and the Persians--that would be something important, something

wonderful.

But He met me with a grave, almost stern face. And

with a command which at once banished my complacent hope. Swiftly

crossing His room to the door where I stood, He said, without even

a greeting: "Mrs May Maxwell is sick. I want you to go with some

medicine to her and to spend the afternoon taking care of her." He

walked back to the window, beckoning me to follow Him. Then He

picked up a glass from His table and a bottle of rosewater. "Give

her this," He said. "Pour out so much," (He poured about an inch

into the glass) "and so much water. Put in some sugar, the sugar

of your love. Drink this yourself." He gave me the glass He had

been preparing, for my cure, and, looking pointedly at me, began

to pray.
"Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!"

Feeling strangely numb, I said, as I drank the rosewater: "Ya

Baha'u'l-Abha!"
He turned to the window and looked out.
"Ya Baha'u'l-Abha!"
"Ya Baha'u'l-Abha," I echoed.

Again and again He repeated the Greatest Name and I repeated it

after Him, praying with Him.

At last He said: "Now go to Mrs May Maxwell. Telephone your mother

that I have sent you to her as she is sick, to spend the afternoon

with her."

Then He bowed, still grave, and I left Him, the bottle of rosewater

in my hand.
__________

(Footnote. 1947. Years later I was to see the meaning of this and

that I had utterly failed in administering the "medicine". Mrs May

Maxwell wouldn't drink it; she said I had put too much sugar in it.

I loved her with a personal love. It never rose to the heights of

an all-forgiving love, and so I

couldn't overcome that strange vein of cruelty in the love I think

she felt for me. We were still divided when she died. This was one

of my great failures.

Another significant thing: Nine years after that date, on 28

November 1921, our Beloved Lord ascended. Could this have been the

reason, with His pre-vision, that He spent that day in 1912 in

solitude?)
__________

Within the next day or two, Mrs May Maxwell and I were together in

His Presence. "Am I spiritually sick, my Lord?" she asked. "For I

was not physically sick the day you sent me the rosewater."

"Yes," He answered gently, "you are spiritually sick. Had you been

physically sick I would have sent you a doctor instead of Juliet."

__________

On 29 November, May Maxwell, Dorothea Spinney, and I were with the

Master when Esther Foster came in. May, Miss Spinney, and I rose.

"All of you may stay," said the Master, "on the condition that

Juliet doesn't cry."

I tried so hard after that to squeeze back the tears, but I

couldn't. I wiped them away furtively as they trickled down one by

one.

He kept us with Him an hour. Dorothea Spinney--an Englishwoman and

a Theosophist--spoke of a vision she had had while meditating. She

has seen a great globe of fire which she seemed to know was "the

Centre of Peace".

"I should like to understand this," she said. "What, or Who is the

Centre of Peace?"

The Master had been writing on a piece of parchment held in the

palm of His hand. He continued to write, not looking up, leaving

Miss Spinney's question in the air.

And all the time He glowed more and more, like the sun dispersing

clouds, pulsing out with every breath intenser light.

"Look at His Face," I whispered to Miss Spinney, "and see the

Centre of Peace."

By and by He spoke: "Excuse me for writing," He said, "it was very

important. You asked me concerning visions. Sometimes the thought

becomes abstracted, enters the World of Reality, and there makes

discoveries."

Then He rose and began to pace up and down and discovered that I

was crying.

"Oh my Lord," I cried, in a panic, "what are You going to do with

me?"

"I am going to find a Mister for you," He laughed.

__________

Those last meetings in the Kinneys' house. Those divine talks of

the Good Shepherd leaving His flock for a while: too tender, too

sad for the heart to bear.[133]

One day, however, He was very stern. Holding the book of the Hidden

Words in His hand, walking back and forth with that step which

always makes me think of the prophecy, "Who is this that cometh

from Bozrah, Who treadeth the wine-press in His fury?" lifting the

Hidden Words high, He said: "Whosoever does not live up to these

Words is not of Me."
__________

Mr Howard Colby Ives accepted the Cause in those days. Mrs Moore

accepted. Touched to the core of their beings they would sit with

streaming eyes in the meetings.

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá with the Kinney family in their home in

New York.]
At last came the day before He sailed.

"May I stay in some corner of this house all day," I asked, "that

I may breathe the same air with You this last day?"

"What does your mother say about it?"--laughing.
"She said I might."
"Very well."

In the afternoon He called me. He kept me in the room a long, long

time, seeing many others while I sat there. When He had dismissed

them all, He came close to me and took my hand.

"There is a matter," He said, "about which I want to speak to you.

The photographs of the portrait you painted of Me, you have offered

them for the Mashriqu'l-Adhkar. I know your circumstances, Juliet.

You have not complained to Me, you have said nothing, but I know

them. I know your affairs are in confusion, that you have debts,

that you have that house, that you have to take care of your

mother. Now I want you to keep the money" (for the photographs)

"for yourself. No, no; do not feel unhappy," (as I began to cry)

"this is best. You must do exactly as I say. I will speak about

this Myself to the believers. I will tell them," He laughed, "that

is it My command."
I thanked Him brokenly.

I can see Him now, pacing up and down the room in front of the line

of Persians, who stood with bowed heads and folded arms in the

Glory of His Presence, deeply aware of its Divineness.

Then Valiyu'llah spoke: "Juliet wants to know if You are pleased

with her, or not?"

(I had spoken out my troubled heart to dear Valiyu'llah.)

"I am very much pleased with the love of Juliet," answered the

Master.
My Lord, I pray that my life may please You."
"Insha'llah." And that was all!

"And that my services may become acceptable to You. I know I have

not begun to serve You yet."
The Master said nothing.

But that night He healed my broken heart, healed it by a tone in

His voice as He spoke to my mother, which was the essence of God's

tenderness, a tone unimaginable to those who have only heard the

human voice.

As Mamma approached Him to bid Him goodbye, He said: "Ah, the

mother of Juliet; the mother of Julie!" (Mamma's pet name for me.)

"I can't bear to say goodbye," said Mamma.

"Insha'llah, I shall meet you in 'Akka, Mrs Thompson, and there I

shall greet you with 'Welcome! Welcome!'"
This was on the night of 4 December.

He asked me to come to the Emerys' (where He had been staying for

a few days) the morning of 5 December, the day of His sailing; and

I was there at eight o'clock. That last morning. I stood at the

door of His room, gazing in, my eyes drinking their fill, if they

ever could drink their fill, of the Divine Figure as He sat, or

stood, or moved about the room.

He called me in twice. The second time He took my hand. "Remember,"

He said, "I am with you always. Bahá'u'lláh will be with you

always."

Carrie Kinney was there that morning and Ned, and 'Ali Quli Khan

and Florence, Edna Ballora and her husband, Harriet Magee, Mrs

Parsons, and Mrs Hannen. The Master had invited Mamma too, but she

had not felt well enough to go.

"Rest assured," He said when I told Him, "that she will be healed."

And He filled my arms with fruit for her.

We drove to the boat, then followed Him up to His cabin. Many

believers were crowding the cabin. Later we all went upstairs and

sat in a large room with Him. Very soon He rose, and, walking up

and down, delivered to us His last spoken message.[134]

First He described heartbreakingly the war now raging in the

Balkans. Then He said: "As to you: your efforts must be lofty.

Exert yourselves with heart and soul that perchance through your

efforts the light of Universal Peace may shine and this darkness

of estrangement and enmity may be dispelled from amongst men ...

"You have no excuse to bring before God if you fail to live

according to His Command, for you are informed of that which

constitutes the good-pleasure of God ...

"It is My hope that you may become successful in this high calling,

so that like brilliant lamps you may cast light upon the world of

humanity and quicken and stir the body of existence like unto a

spirit of life.

"This is eternal glory. This is everlasting felicity. This is

immortal life. This is heavenly attainment. This is being created

in God's image and likeness. And unto this I call you, praying to

God to strengthen and bless you."

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá leaving America on the Celtic from New

York City.]

He seated Himself again in a corner of the large cabin, all the

believers flocked around Him. I sat opposite Him at a little

distance, weeping quietly. A great fear had taken possession of me,

a question risen in my mind which must be answered or I should have

no peace--I should be left in a frantic state. I rose and walked

over to Him and stood before Him.

"My Lord," I said, "each time I have parted from You: in Haifa, in

Europe, You have said You would call me again to You. Each time You

gave me hope that I would see You again. But this time You gave me

no hope. Won't I see You again, my Lord?"
"This is My hope," He replied.

"But still You don't tell me, my Lord, and it makes me feel

hopeless."
"You must not feel hopeless."

This was all He said to me. It killed me. While I sat, weighed down

with despair and grief, He drew from an inside pocket the purse Dr

Grant had sent Him last summer, laid it on His knee and looked at

me. To me it seemed a promise that He Himself would take care of

Percy. And this was the very last.

It was death to leave that ship. I stood on the pier with May

Maxwell, tears blurring my sight. Through them I could see the

Master in the midst of the group of Persians waving a patient hand

to us. It waved and waved, that beautiful patient hand, till the

Figure was lost to sight.

[Photograph: `Abdu'l-Bahá--the last photo taken in America, 1912.]

(1947. Because of those blurring tears I could not see the look on

His face, the look of profound agony, as though He were on the

cross, as He bade His immature children farewell, foreseeing for

us so many sorrows, so many failures, and a world gone to pieces

because of our failures.

This look I have seen ever since in a photograph taken at that last

moment.)
Diary of Juliet Thompson: Notes Chapter 4
Notes
[1] `Abdu'l-Bahá.

[2] Holy Mother is the title of Munírih Khánum, the wife of

`Abdu'l-Bahá. Holy Leaves designates the women of Bahá'u'lláh's

family.

[3] Mrs Carrie Kinney, a prominent Bahá'í from New York.

[4] Dr Aminu'llah Farid (Ameen Ullah Fareed), nephew of

`Abdu'l-Bahá.
[5] Dr Farid's half brother. (p. 5.)

[6] Father of Dr Farid and brother-in-law of `Abdu'l-Bahá. He was

one of the Persian teachers sent to America by `Abdu'l-Bahá at the

turn of the century.

[7] Rector of the Church of the Ascension in New York. Juliet was,

at this time, in love with him.

[8] Sister of `Abdu'l-Bahá; the premier woman of the Baha'i

Revelation.
[9] Bahá'u'lláh.
[10] Two of `Abdu'l-Bahá'í daughters.
[11] A Bahá'í from Paris.
[12] An allusion to Rev. 5:5.
[13] See Luke 1:22

[14] Howard MacNutt, a leading Bahá'í from Brooklyn.

[15] �ran was at this time in the midst of the Constitutional

Revolution, 1906-1911. Eventually, the country was divided into two

spheres of influence: Russia took the north, and Great Britain the

south.
[16] Cf. Rev. 21:4, Isa. 25:8.
[17] Cf. John 3:8.

[18] Lua Getsinger; one of the first American Bahá'ís; the "Mother

Teacher of the West."

[19] Mrs Ellen Beecher, grandmother of Hand of the Cause Dorothy

Baker.

[20] Mrs Agnes Parsons, a prominent believer from Washington, D.C.

[21] A Persian Bahá'í living in New York.

[22] Mrs Mabel Rice Wray Ives, a Bahá'í from Newark, N.J.

[23] Cf. Mark 10:24.
[24] Matt. 10.8.
[25] Matt. 13:27.
[26] This had taken place on 27 April 1909.
[27] The Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh.

[28] NOTE: A discrepancy exists in the various manuscripts of

Juliet Thompson's diary concerning the identities of the children

from the East mentioned here.
[29] John 10:16.
[30] Leaders of Muslim orders.

[31] This I have written from memory with the help of Munavvar

Khanum, so it is not so strong as when the master gave it.--J.T.

[32] Cf. Matt. 19:14, Mark 10:14, and Luke 18:16.

[33] That day (the third of July) we had been to the House of the

Blessed Perfection in `Akka. It is a palace, spacious, stately, but

it has not the charm of the Master's House. In the room of the

Blessed Perfection was a marvellous atmosphere. I felt intense

vibrations, currents of Life. When we left, X leaned her head

against the door.--J.T.

[34] Ibrahim George Khayru'llah (Kheiralla)--The believer who first

brought the Bahá'í Faith to America. He later rebelled against

`Abdu'l-Bahá and broke the Covenant.
[35] Cf. Luke 18:9-14.

[36] That is, Howard MacNutt, Hooper Harris, and William Hoar. This

refers to disputes involving these believers which took place in

the New York Bahá'í Community.

[37] The early name of the Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá'ís of New

York.
[38] See God Passes By, pp. 269-71.
[39] Isa. 53:5, 1 Pet. 2:24.
[40] Mrs Louise Gibbons, a Bahá'í from New York.

[41] Rev. O. M. Fischer, an Episcopal clergyman who was also a

Bahá'í in New York.
[42] Mr Albert Windust, a Bahá'í from Chicago.

[43] Tahirih, Bábi heroine and Letter of the Living.

[44] A musical term: an altered note (such as a sharp or flat)

foreign to the key indicated by the signature.

[45] Mr Sidney Sprague, a prominent American Bahá'í and travelling

teacher.

[46] In 1893 Rev. Grant had become rector of the New York Church

of the Ascension, long the stronghold of fashionable, orthodox

Episcopalians, but now with a dwindling congregation in a declining

neighbourhood. His sweeping innovations were successful, but

controversial: pews were no longer private property, but opened to

the public; sermons were preached on issues of the day; new

afternoon musical services attracted hundreds; Sunday evenings, the

People's Forum debated political and economic questions, often

until midnight. Grant became the militant leader of the radical

wing of the city's clergy.

[47] An oral tradition of the teachings of Muhammad.

[48] The intent of this tradition is, of course, metaphorical. The

Bahá'í Faith rejects the doctrine of Divine incarnation. The

Guardian of the Bahá'í Faith states: "God ... can in no wise

incarnate His infinite, His unknowable, His incorruptible and

all-embracing Reality in the concrete and limited frame of a mortal

being. Indeed, the God Who could so incarnate His own reality

would, in the light of the teachings of Bahá'u'lláh, cease

immediately to be God." (World Order of Bahá'u'lláh, p. 112)

[49] At this time, large numbers of people were becoming Bahá'ís

in �ran.

[50] The Ridvan Garden, a short distance from `Akka, was one of

Bahá'u'lláh's favourite resting places.
[51] Some Answered Questions.
[52] The Bahá'í Proofs.

[53] Many of the early American Bahá'ís believed that `Abdu'l-Bahá

was the Return of Christ, despite His many denials. In one Tablet

`Abdu'l-Bahá wrote: "You have written that there is a difference

among the believers concerning the `Second Coming of Christ'.

Gracious God! Time and again this question hath arisen, and its

answer hath emanated in a clear and irrefutable statement from the

pen of `Abdu'l-Bahá, that what is meant in the prophecies by the

`Lord of Hosts' and the `Promised Christ' is the Blessed Perfection

(Bahá'u'lláh) and His holiness ... (The Báb). My name is

`Abdu'l-Bahá. My qualification is `Abdu'l-Bahá. My reality is

`Abdu'l-Bahá. My praise is `Abdu'l-Bahá. Thraldom to the Blessed

Perfection is my glorious and refulgent diadem, and servitude to

all the human race my perpetual religion ... No name, no title, no

mention, no commendation have I, nor will ever have, except

`Abdu'l-Bahá." (World Order of Bahá'u'lláh, p. 139)

[54] The passage in the Aqdas reads: "Let nothing grieve thee, O

Land of Ta [Tihran] ... Ere long will the state of affairs within

thee be changed, and the reins of power fall into the hands of the

people." (The Kitáb-i-Aqdas, paras 91 and 93, pp. 53, 53)

[55] 1936. There seems no reason to conceal it now. He gave me a

cylinder of gold louis, so that I might be able to return.--J.T.

The Louis d'or was a gold twenty franc piece, at the time worth

slightly more than five US dollars.--ED.

[56] Haji Mirza Haydar-`Ali, an early believer and champion teacher

of the Cause in �ran, was known to Western pilgrims as the "Angel

of Carmel". See A. Q. Faizi, Stories from the Delight of Hearts.

[57] Cf. Mark 14:3.

[58] "There is no room in my heart for any but Thee," I said to Him

once. "I want you to be like that," He answered, "to be filled with

the Love of God, to be entirely cut from the world and always to

hold to My garment."--J.T.

[59] When He is speaking, His mouth has an upward turn at the

comers, which gives Him that divine, smiling expression. --J.T.

[60] Cf. Matt. 13:8 and Luke 8:8.
[61] Cf. Isa. 66:1.
[62] Isa. 52:7.

[63] In the Arab and Muslim city of `Akka, women were obliged to

remain indoors.

[64] Rev. 16:15, 1 Thess. 5:2. See also Matt. 24:43 and Luke 12:39.

[65] Rev. 1:12.

[66] This time my heart is more sensitive. His voice pierces and

wrings it. Every note of that voice makes my heart quiver.--J.T.

[67] Dr Yunis Khan Afrukhtih, who served `Abdu'l-Bahá in Haifa from

1900 to 1909; Mirza Badi'u'llah, half brother of `Abdu'l-Bahá; and

Mirza Munir-i Zayn, son of the famous Bahá'í scribe

Zaynu'l-Muqarrabin.

[68] While I was walking with Ruha the day before on Mount Cannel,

as we sat on a fallen tree to rest, she had broached the subject

of my marrying Mason Remey. Our Lord had told her to ask me about

it. "You are treating Juliet like one of Your own daughters who

were married in this way," Ruha had said. "It is too strong a test

for her." "Just ask her and see what she says," our Lord had

repeated. "But," added Ruha to me, "if the Master should command

me now: `Go, leave your husband and children and jump into the

sea,' I would go and jump!"--J.T.

[69] Mirza Mihdi, the Purest Branch, the youngest son of

Bahá'u'lláh and His consort Navvab (�siyyih Khanum died after an

accidental fall from the roof of the prison in `Akka. See God

Passes By, pp. 188-89.

[70] The cylinder of gold louis the Master had given me so that I

might return to Him.--J.T.
[71] Cf. Matt. 10:14, Mark 6:11, and Luke 9:5.

[72] Ahmad Sohrab, who had lived in the United States, but was at

this time residing in Egypt.

[73] Professor Dickinson Miller, educator and philosopher; then a

professor at Columbia University.
[74] Matt. 5:13, Luke 14:34.

[75] Disputes had developed in New York between Mr MacNutt and

other prominent Bahá'ís. It became the general opinion that

MacNutt's teaching of the Faith was incorrect in some aspects.--ED.

[76] Enlarging the Board from nine to nineteen members.--J.T.

[77] He said "see them again." Ten years ago, in 1926, I went--and

saw them, and the beloved Guardian. But the Master was not

there.--J.T.

[78] During the First World War, Hippolyte, then in the army,

guarded a bridge!--J. T.

[79] 1947. When I saw Laura this year I said: "Remember Thonon!"

"The waterfall," she answered.--J.T.

[80] Edith Sanderson, a Bahá'í from Paris, and her mother.

[81] The X of the Thonon diary is not the X of the `Akka diary, but

somebody else who must remain incognito.--J.T.
This X is Annie Boylan.--ED.
[82] See Gen. 18:32.

[83] "He has such a good, such a simple bearing." "Yes, and eyes

of fire!"

[84] Apparently, either May Maxwell or Marjorie Morton.

[85] 1924. Lilian died serving in Persia.--J.T.

1947. Some years later Elizabeth also died from an illness

contracted there.--J.T.

[86] Sultan Husayn Mirza; grandson of Nasiri'd-Din Shah.--Ed.

[87] 1947. Years later I heard that he had been born again--a

Baha'i--and was serving the Cause with great zeal in Persia. His

poor young brother, Prince Bahram, died in the First World War, on

a torpedoed ship.--J.T.

[88] Juliet was, at this time, a member of the Church of the

Ascension. It was not until much later that the Guardian of the

Faith instructed the Bahá'ís of the United States to sever formal

affiliations with churches. See Messages to America, pp. 4-5.

[89] Cf. Star of the West, III:3 (1912) p. 4.

[90] Ahmad Sohrab, now part of `Abdu'l-Bahá'í entourage.

[91] 1947. In the years that followed she would often say to me:

"I love the Master more than you do, Julie, and I obey Him better

than you do, for He performed a miracle for me, which He never did

for you! He took all the bitterness out of my heart."

There was another occasion, which I find I haven't mentioned in my

diary, when my darling little mother knelt before the Master. This

was a public occasion, after He had spoken in a church. The service

over, the whole congregation, including a multitude of believers,

surged toward the chancel to shake hands with Him. Mamma was the

only one in that long procession who sank to her knees and kissed

his hand.--J.T.

[92] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

7-9.

[93] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

9-11.

[94] A follower of the economic philosophy of Henry George who

advocated a single tax on profits from the sale of land.

[95] An allusion to the Last Supper. See Mark 14:15 and Luke 22:12.

[96] Cf. The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

11-13.
[97] Cf. Some Early Bahá'ís of the West, p. 78.

[98] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

14-16.

[99] At the time, equal to about two-hundred-fifty dollars.

[100] This Báby was Mary Maxwell, later Amatu'l-Bahá Ruhiyyih

Khanum.

[101] 1947. This was fulfilled years after, but by that time my

heart was severed; and to my everlasting shame, I was cruel to

him.--J.T.

[102] Cf. The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

32-34.

[103] Dr Farid, within the year, turned traitor.--J.T.

[104] `Ali Quli Khan, the Charg� d'Affaires for the Persian

Legation.
[105] See The Bahá'í World, Vol. 12, p. 668.
[106] The wife of `Ali Quli Khan.

[107] Senator Stephen Benton Elkins; died 4 January 1911.

[108] Mrs Barney Hemmick, a Bahá'í from Washington, D.C.

[109] Mr MacClung died soon afterward.--J.T.
[110] At 227 Riverside Drive, New York.--ED.

[111] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

123-26.

[112] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

126-29.

[113] In December of that same year, Mrs Tatum came to see me. "The

Master," told me, "said such a strange thing to me just before He

left America. I had been saying how sorry I was that I had left my

car in Boston and couldn't put it at His disposal as I had done

last spring. He answered: `Soon, Mrs Tatum, you will not need your

car, for you will be riding in a chariot of fire.' I wonder,

Juliet, what He meant by that!" Within a few weeks, dear Mrs Tatum

died suddenly.--J.T.

[114] Louis Potter, one of the best-known sculptors in this

country, also died in 1912, in August, very tragically. Even after

seeing the Master and really loving Him, he was still seeking truth

in other directions. He went out to California to follow a

spiritual quack, whose methods of healing killed poor Louis. The

last thing from his gifted hand was [a] beautiful medal with the

Master's profile on it.--J.T.

[115] Bahá'ís to not believe that `Abdu'l-Bahá is a Prophet of God,

although this was a widespread notion at this time. The prophets

of the Bahá'í Faith are Bahá'u'lláh and The Báb.

[116] Mount Morris Baptist Church. See The Promulgation of

Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp. 147-50.

[117] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

163-71.

118 After this, Walter Hampton came to the Master every day--he

never missed a day--till our Lord went to Dublin [New

Hampshire].--J.T.
[119] The famous conservationist.
[120] See Mark 10:17-22 and Luke 18:18-23.

[121] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

213-16.

[122] We never dreamed how soon He would be with her there.--J.T.

`Abdu'l-Bahá journeyed to California, arriving in San Francisco on

1 October 1912. Lua made the arrangements for his visit.--ED.

[123] 1947. There may have been two meanings to that visit to the

Museum and the second meaning I could not have thought of till

1940, when I became so deeply involved in the Bahá'í work in Mexico

and completely at one in heart and spirit with the believers

there.--J.T.

[124] 1947. He died of his humiliations which were more than human

flesh could bear. And in the end he would weep and say to a friend,

who told me afterward, "Do you think we did all we could have done

for the Master?" He tried his best to communicate with me, but fate

had made me inaccessible. "I must write to Juliet," he said. "There

is something I must tell her." I have never known what this

was.--J.T.

Dr Grant was eventually publicly disgraced and forced to resign his

position in the Church of the Ascension. He retired to his country

home and died less than three years later.--ED.

[125] 1947. Just after the Master ascended, dear Mrs Goodall died

and Ella sent the rosary back to me. Several years later I gave it

to Romeyn Benjamin. It played a miraculous part in his life and

when he died, eight years ago, again it came back to me.--J.T.

[126] In exactly a month, to the day, He saw me in Green Acre,

where Mamma and I were His guests for four days.--J.T.

[127] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

431-37.
[128] The Miss X of this and the Thonon diary.

[129] See announcement of their engagement, Bahá'í News (later Star

of the West), I:9 (1910), p. 11.

[130] The extension room on the second floor of 48 West Tenth

Street, now divided into two rooms.--J.T.

[131] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

447-48.
[132] See Bahá'í World Faith, pp. 204-207.

[133] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

449-56, 460-61.

[134] See The Promulgation of Universal Peace, Second Edition, pp.

469-70.

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