The Hidden Side of Things
BY
C. W. Leadbeater
THE THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING HOUSE
A DYAR, MADRAS 20, INDIA
FOREWORD
THIS
book has been in contemplation, and even in process of construction, for the
last ten or twelve years, but only now has it been found possible to publish
it. It has lost nothing by the delay, for a student of the occult never ceases
to learn, and I know a good deal more in various ways now than I did twelve
years ago, even though I see still more clearly than ever what an infinity of
further knowledge stretches before us for our acquiring.
Much of
what is written here has appeared in the form of articles in The
Theosophist and elsewhere ; but all has been revised, and considerable
additions have been made. I trust that it may help some brothers to realise the
importance of that far larger part of life which is beyond our physical sight
-- to understand that, as the Lord Buddha Himself has taught us:
The
unseen things are more.
C. W.
LEADBEATER
CONTENTS
|
FIRST SECTION
|
INTRODUCTORY
|
CHAPTER I |
OCCULTISM
|
CHAPTER II |
THE WORLD AS A WHOLE
A Wider Outlook. The Fourth Dimension.
The Higher World.
The Purpose of Life
|
|
SECOND SECTION
|
HOW WE ARE INFLUENCED
|
CHAPTER III |
BY PLANETS
Radiations. The Deity of the Solar
System. Different Types of Matter.
The Living Centres. Their Influence.
Liberty of Action. |
CHAPTER IV |
BY THE SUN
The Heat of the Sun. The Willow-Leaves.
Vitality. The Vitality Globule.
The Absorption of Vitality. Vitality
and Health. Vitality not Magnetism |
CHAPTER V |
BY NATURAL SURROUNDINGS
The Weather. Rocks. Trees. The Seven
Types. Animals. Human Beings. Travel |
CHAPTER VI |
BY NATURE-SPIRITS
An Evolution Apart. Lines of Evolution.
Overlapping. Fairies. National Types.
On a Sacred Mountain in Ireland. Fairy
Life and Death. Their Pleasures. The
Romances of Fairyland. Their Attitude
towards Man. Glamour. Instances of
Friendship. Water-Spirits. Freshwater
Fairies. Sylphs. Their Amusements.
An Abnormal Development. The Advantages
of Studying Them |
CHAPTER VII |
BY CENTRES OF MAGNETISM
Our Great Cathedrals. Temples. Sites
and Relics. Ruins. Modern Cities. Public
Buildings. Cemeteries. Universities and
Schools. Libraries, Museums and
Galleries. The Stock-yards of Chicago.
Special Places. Sacred Mountains. Sacred
Rivers
|
CHAPTER VIII |
BY CEREMONIES
The Hierarchy. The Three Paths.
Christian Magic. The Mass. Ordination. The
Anglican Church. The Music. The
Thought-Forms. The Effect of Devotion. Holy
Water. Baptism. Union is Strength.
Consecration. The Bells. Incense. Services
for the Dead. Other Religions. The
Orders of the Clergy |
CHAPTER IX |
BY SOUNDS
Sound, Colour and Form. Religious
Music. Singing. Military Music. Sounds
in Nature. In Domestic Life. Noises
|
CHAPTER X |
BY PUBLIC OPINION
Race Prejudice. Popular Prejudice.
Political Prejudice. Government. Religious
Prejudice. Class Prejudice. Public
Standards. Caste Prejudice. The Duty of
Freedom. Business Methods. The Results
of Deceit. Prejudice against Persons.
The Influence of Friends. Popular
Superstitions. The Fear of Gossip. A Better
Aspect
|
CHAPTER XI |
BY OCCASIONAL EVENTS
A Funeral. The Disposal of the Dead
Body. A Surgical Operation. A
Lecture. A Political Meeting. Crowds. A
Séance. A Religious Revival. A
Wave of Patriotism. War Catastrophes |
CHAPTER XII |
BY UNSEEN BEINGS
Sensitive People. A Remarkable Case.
The Vision Investigated. Writing a Book |
CHAPTER XIII |
OUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS THESE
INFLUENCES
Protective Shells. The Etheric Shell.
Shields. A Warning. The Astral Shell.
The Mental Shell. The Best Use of a
Shell. A Beautiful Story. The Better Way |
THIRD SECTION
|
HOW WE INFLUENCE OURSELVES
|
CHAPTER XIV |
BY OUR HABITS
Food. Intoxicating Liquors.
Flesh-Eating. Smoking. Drugs. Cleanliness.
Occult Hygiene. Physical Exercise.
Reading and Study. System and
Thoroughness. Novel and
Newspaper-Reading. Speech. Meditation |
CHAPTER XV |
BY PHYSICAL ENVIRONMENT
|
Houses. Streets. Pictures. Curiosities.
Books. Furnishing. Jewellery. Talismans. |
Things We Carry About. Money. Clothing
|
CHAPTER XVI |
BY MENTAL CONDITIONS
|
Thought-forms. Moods. Recurrent
Thoughts. Falling in Love. Unset Blossom. |
Occultism and Marriage. Changes in
Consciousness |
CHAPTER XVII |
BY OUR AMUSEMENTS
Children's Games. Sport. Fishing.
Horse. Racing. Gambling. The Theatre |
|
FOURTH SECTION
|
HOW WE INFLUENCE OTHERS
|
CHAPTER XVIII |
BY WHAT WE ARE
The Interrelation of Men. The Duty of
Happiness Peace |
CHAPTER XIX |
BY WHAT WE THINK
The Realm of Thought. The Effects of
Thought. The Thought-Wave. The
Thought-Form. What We can do by
Thought. The Responsibility of Thought |
CHAPTER XX |
BY WHAT WE DO
Work for the Poor. The Force of the
Master. The Manufacture of Talismans.
Varieties of Talismans. Demagnetisation.
Do Little Things Well. Writing a
Letter. Work during Sleep
|
CHAPTER XXI |
BY COLLECTIVE THOUGHT
Church Hymns and Rituals.
Congregations. Monasteries. Effect upon the
Dead. Saving Souls. People who Dislike
Ceremonies. Theosophical Meetings |
CHAPTER XXII |
BY OUR RELATION TO CHILDREN
The Duty of Parents. The Plasticity of
Childhood. The Influence of Parents.
The Aura of a Child. Carelessness of
Parents. The Necessity for Love.
Religious Training. Physical Training
|
CHAPTER XXIII |
BY OUR RELATION TO LOWER KINGDOMS
Domestic Animals. Birds. Plants.
Nature-Spirits. Inanimate Surroundings. A
Ship. Machines. Unlucky Ships. Stone
used in Building. Sea-Sickness
FIFTH SECTION
CONCLUSION
|
CHAPTER XXIV |
THE RESULTS OF THE KNOWLEDGE
A Summary. The Future
|
CHAPTER XXV |
THE WAY TO SEERSHIP
|
FIRST
SECTION
INTRODUCTORY
CHAPTER
I
OCCULTISM
1.
THE term ` occultism' is one which has been much misunderstood. In the
mind of the ignorant it was, even recently, synonymous with magic, and its
students were supposed to be practitioners of the black art, veiled in flowing
robes of scarlet covered with cabalistic signs, sitting amidst uncanny
surroundings with a black cat as a familiar, compounding unholy decoctions by
the aid of satanic evocations.
2.
Even now, and among those whom education has raised above such
superstition as this, there still remains a good deal of misapprehension. For
them its derivation from the Latin word occultus ought to explain at
once that it is the science of the hidden; but they often regard it
contemptuously as nonsensical and unpractical, as connected with dreams and
fortune-telling, with hysteria and necromancy, with the search for the elixir of
life and the philosopher' s stone. Students, who should know better, perpetually
speak as though the hidden side of things were intentionally concealed, as
though knowledge with regard to it ought to be in the hands of all men, but was
being deliberately withheld by the caprice or selfishness of a few; whereas the
fact is that nothing is or can be hidden from us except by our own limitations,
and that for every man as he evolves the world grows wider and wider, because he
is able to see more and more of its grandeur and its loveliness.
3.
As an objection against this statement may be cited the well-known fact
that, at each of the great Initiations which mark the advance of the neophyte
along the path of the higher progress, a definite new block of knowledge is
given to him. That is quite true, but the knowledge can be given only because
the recipient has evolved to the point at which he can grasp it. It is no more
being withheld from ordinary humanity than the knowledge of conic sections is
being withheld from the child who is still struggling with the
multiplication-table. When that child reaches the level at which he can
comprehend quadratic equations, the teacher is ready to explain to him the rules
which govern them. In exactly the same way, when a man has qualified himself for
the reception of the information given at a certain Initiation, he is forthwith
initiated. But the only way to attain the capacity to imbibe that higher
knowledge is to begin by trying to understand our present conditions, and to
order our lives intelligently in view of the facts which we find.
4.
Occultism, then, is the study of the hidden side of nature; or rather, it
is the study of the whole of nature, instead of only that small part of
it which comes under the investigation of modern science. At the present stage
of our development, by far the greater part of nature is entirely unknown to the
majority of mankind, because they have as yet unfolded only a minute proportion
of the faculties which they possess. The ordinary man, therefore, is basing his
philosophy (so far as he has any) upon entirely inadequate grounds; his actions
are moulded more or less in accordance with the few laws of nature which he
knows, and consequently both his theory of life and his daily practice are
necessarily inaccurate. The occultist adopts a far more comprehensive view; he
takes into account those forces of the higher worlds whose action is hidden from
the materialist, and so he moulds his life in obedience to the entire code of
Nature' s laws, instead of only by occasional reference to a minute fragment of
it.
5.
It is difficult for the man who knows nothing of the occult to realise
how great, how serious and how all-pervading are his own limitations. The only
way in which we can adequately symbolise them is to suppose some form of
consciousness still more limited than our own, and to think in what directions
it would differ from ours. Suppose it were possible that a consciousness could
exist capable of appreciating only solid matter-- the liquid and gaseous forms
of matter being to it as entirely non-existent as are the etheric and astral and
mental forms to the ordinary man. We can readily see how for such a
consciousness any adequate conception of the world in which we live would be
impossible. Solid matter, which alone could be perceived by it, would constantly
be found to be undergoing serious modifications, about which no rational theory
could be formed.
6.
For example, whenever a shower of rain took place, the solid matter of
the earth would undergo change; it would in many cases become both softer and
heavier when charged with moisture, but the reason of such a change would
necessarily be wholly incomprehensible to the consciousness which we are
supposing. The wind might lift clouds of sand and transfer them from one place
to another; but such motion of solid matter would be entirely inexplicable to
one who had no conception of the existence of the air. Without considering more
examples of what is already so obvious, we see clearly how hopelessly inadequate
would be such an idea of the world as would be attainable by this consciousness
limited to solid matter. What we do not realise so readily, however, is that our
present consciousness falls just as far short of that of the developed man as
this supposed consciousness would fall short of that which we now possess.
7.
Theosophical students are at least theoretically acquainted with the idea
that to everything there is a hidden side; and they also know that in the great
majority of cases this unseen side is of far greater importance than that which
is visible to the physical eye.
8.
To put the same idea from another point of view, the senses, by means of
which we obtain all our information about external objects, are as yet
imperfectly developed; therefore the information obtained is partial. What we
see in the world about us is by no means all that there is to see, and a man who
will take the trouble to cultivate his senses will find that, in proportion as
he succeeds, life will become fuller and richer for him. For the lover of
nature, of art, of music, a vast field of incredibly intensified and exalted
pleasure lies close at hand, if he will fit himself to enter upon it. Above all,
for the lover of his fellow-man there is the possibility of far more intimate
comprehension and therefore far wider usefulness.
9.
We are only halfway up the ladder of evolution at present, and so our
senses are only half-evolved. But it is possible for us to hurry up that
ladder-- possible, by hard work, to make our senses now what
all men' s senses will be in the distant future. The man who has succeeded in
doing this is often called a seer or a clairvoyant.
10.
A fine word that-- clairvoyant. It means ` one who sees clearly' ; but it
has been horribly misused and degraded, so that people associate it with all
sorts of trickery and imposture-- with gypsies who for sixpence will tell a
maid-servant what is the colour of the hair of the duke who is coming to marry
her, or with establishments in Bond Street where for a guinea fee the veil of
the future is supposed to be lifted for more aristocratic clients.
11.
All this is irregular and unscientific; in many cases it is mere
charlatanry and bare-faced robbery. But not always; to foresee the future up to
a certain point is a possibility; it can be done, and it has been done,
scores of times; and some of these irregular practitioners unquestionably do at
times possess flashes of higher vision, though usually they cannot depend upon
having them when they want them.
12.
But behind all this vagueness there is a bed-rock of fact-- something
which can be approached rationally and studied scientifically. It is as the
result of many years of such study and experiment that I state emphatically what
I have written above-- that it is possible for men to develop their senses until
they can see much more of this wonderful and beautiful world in which we live
than is ever suspected by the untrained average man, who lives contentedly in
the midst of Cimmerean darkness and calls it light.
13.
Two thousand and five hundred years ago the greatest of Indian teachers,
Gautama the BUDDHA, said to His disciples: ` Do not complain and cry and pray,
but open your eyes and see. The truth is all about you, if you will
only take the bandage from your eyes and look; and it is so wonderful, so
beautiful, so far beyond anything that men have ever dreamt of or prayed for,
and it is for ever and for ever.'
14.
He assuredly meant far more than this of which I am writing now, but this
is a step on the way towards that glorious goal of perfect realisation. If it
does not yet tell us quite all the truth, at any rate it gives us a
good deal of it. It removes for us a host of common misconceptions, and clears
up for us many points which are considered as mysteries or problems by those who
are as yet uninstructed in this lore. It shows that all these things were
mysteries and problems to us only because heretofore we saw so small a part of
the facts, because we were looking at the various matters from below, and as
isolated and unconnected fragments, instead of rising above them to a standpoint
whence they are comprehensible as parts of a mighty whole.
It settles in a moment many questions which have been much
disputed-- such, for example, as that of the continued existence of man after
death. It explains many of the strange things which the Churches tell us; it
dispels our ignorance and removes our fear of the unknown by supplying us with a
rational and orderly scheme.
15.
Besides all this, it opens up a new world to us in regard to our
every-day life-- a new world which is yet a part of the old. It shows us that,
as I began by saying, there is a hidden side to everything, and that our most
ordinary actions often produce results of which without this study we should
never have known. By it we understand the rationale of what is commonly called
telepathy, for we see that just as there are waves of heat or light or
electricity, so there are waves produced by thought, though they are in a finer
type of matter than the others, and therefore not perceptible to our physical
senses. By studying these vibrations we see how thought acts, and we learn that
it is a tremendous power for good or for ill-- a power which we are all of us
unconsciously wielding to some extent-- which we can use a hundredfold more
effectively when we comprehend its workings. Further investigation reveals to us
the method of formation of what are called ` thought-forms,' and indicates how
these can be usefully employed both for ourselves and for others in a dozen
different ways.
16.
The occultist studies carefully all these unseen effects, and
consequently knows much more fully than other men the result of what he is
doing. He has more information about life than others have, and he exercises his
common-sense by modifying his life in accordance with what he knows. In many
ways we live differently now from our forefathers in mediaeval times, because we
know more than they did. We have discovered certain laws of hygiene; wise men
live according to that knowledge, and therefore the average length of life is
decidedly greater now than it was in the Middle Ages. There are still some who
are foolish or ignorant, who either do not know the laws of health or are
careless about keeping them; they think that because disease-germs are invisible
to them, they are therefore of no importance; they don't believe in new ideas.
Those are the people who suffer first when an epidemic disease arrives, or some
unusual strain is put upon the community. They suffer unnecessarily, because
they are behind the times. But they injure not only themselves by their neglect;
the conditions caused by their ignorance or carelessness often bring infection
into a district which might otherwise be free from it.
17.
The matter of which I am writing is precisely the same thing at a
different level. The microscope revealed disease-germs; the intelligent man
profited by the discovery, and rearranged his life, while the unintelligent man
paid no attention, but went on as before. Clairvoyance reveals thought-force and
many other previously unsuspected powers; once more the intelligent man profits
by this discovery, and rearranges his life accordingly. Once more also the
unintelligent man takes no heed of the new discoveries; once more he thinks that
what he cannot see can have no importance for him; once more he continues to
suffer quite unnecessarily, because he is behind the times.
18.
Not only does he often suffer positive pain, but he also misses so much
of the pleasure of life. To painting, to music, to poetry, to literature, to
religious ceremonies, to the beauties of nature there is always a hidden side--
a fulness, a completeness beyond the mere physical; and the man who can see or
sense this has at his command a wealth of enjoyment far beyond the comprehension
of the man who passes through it all with unopened perceptions.
19.
The perceptions exist in every human being, though as yet undeveloped in
most. To unfold them means generally a good deal of time and hard work, but it
is exceedingly well worth while. Only let no man undertake the effort unless his
motives are absolutely pure and unselfish, for he who seeks wider faculty for
any but the most exalted purposes will bring upon himself a curse and not a
blessing.
20.
But the man of affairs, who has no time to spare for a sustained effort
to evolve nascent powers within himself, is not thereby debarred from sharing in
some at least of the benefits derived from occult study, any more than the man
who possesses no microscope is thereby prevented from living hygienically. The
latter has not seen the disease-germs, but from the testimony of the specialist
he knows that they exist, and he knows how to guard himself from them. Just in
the same way a man who has as yet no dawning of clairvoyant vision may study the
writings of those who have gained it, and in this way profit by the results of
their labour. True, he cannot yet see all the glory and the beauty which are
hidden from us by the imperfection of our senses; but he can readily learn how
to avoid the unseen evil, and how to set in motion the unseen forces of good.
So, long before he actually sees them, he can conclusively prove to
himself their existence, just as the man who drives an electric motor proves to
himself the existence of electricity, though he has never seen it and does not
in the least know what it is.
21.
We must try to understand as much as we can of the world in which we
live. We must not fall behind in the march of evolution, we must not let
ourselves be anachronisms, for lack of interest in these new discoveries, which
yet are only the presentation from a new point of view of the most archaic
wisdom. “Knowledge is power” in this case as in every other; in this case, as in
every other, to secure the best results, the glorious trinity of power, wisdom
and love must ever go hand in hand.
22.
There is a difference, however, between theoretical acquaintance and
actual realisation; and I have thought that it might help students somewhat
towards the grasp of the realities to have a description of the unseen side of
some of the simple transactions of every day life as they appear to clairvoyant
vision-- to one, let us say, who has developed within himself the power of
perception through the astral, mental and causal bodies. Their appearance as
seen by means of the intuitional vehicle is infinitely grander and more
effective still, but so entirely inexpressible that it seems useless to say
anything about it; for on that level all experience is within the man instead of
without, and the glory and the beauty of it is no longer something which he
watches with interest, but something which he feels in his inmost heart, because
it is part of himself.
23.
The object of this book is to give some hints as to the inner side of the
world as a whole and of our daily life. We shall consider this latter in three
divisions, which will resemble the conjugations of our youthful days in being
passive, middle and active respectively-- how we are influenced, how we
influence ourselves, and how we influence others; and we shall conclude by
observing a few of the results which must inevitably flow from a wider diffusion
of this knowledge as to the realities of existence.
24.
CHAPTER II
25.
THE WORLD AS A WHOLE
26.
A WIDER OUTLOOK
27.
WHEN we look upon the world around us, we cannot hide from ourselves the
existence of a vast amount of sorrow and suffering. True, much of it is
obviously the fault of the sufferers, and might easily be avoided by the
exercise of a little self-control and common-sense; but there is also much which
is not immediately self-induced, but undoubtedly comes from without. It often
seems as though evil triumphs, as though justice fails in the midst of the storm
and stress of the roaring confusion of life, and because of this many despair of
the ultimate result, and doubt whether there is in truth any plan of definite
progress behind all this bewildering chaos.
28.
It is all a question of the point of view; the man who is himself in the
thick of the fight cannot judge of the plan of the general or the progress of
the conflict. To understand the battle as a whole, one must withdraw from the
tumult and look down upon the field from above. In exactly the same way, to
comprehend the plan of the battle of life we must withdraw ourselves from it for
the time, and in thought look down upon it from above-- from the point of view
not of the body which perishes but of the soul which lives for ever. We must
take into account not only the small part of life which our physical eyes can
see, but the vast totality of which at present so much is invisible to us.
29.
Until that has been done we are in the position of a man looking from
beneath at the under side of some huge piece of elaborate tapestry which is in
process of being woven. The whole thing is to us but a confused medley of varied
colour, of ragged hanging ends, without order or beauty, and we are unable to
conceive what all this mad clatter of machinery can be doing; but when through
our knowledge of the hidden side of nature we are able to look down from above,
the pattern begins to unfold itself before our eyes, and the apparent chaos
shows itself as orderly progress.
30.
A more forcible analogy may be obtained by contemplating in imagination
the view of life which would present itself to some tiny microbe whirled down by
a resistless flood, such as that which rushes through the gorge of Niagara.
Boiling, foaming, swirling, the force of that stream is so tremendous that its
centre is many feet higher than its sides. The microbe on the surface of such a
torrent must be dashed hither and thither wildly amidst the foam, sometimes
thrown high in air, sometimes whirled backwards in an eddy, unable to see the
banks between which he is passing, having every sense occupied in the mad
struggle to keep himself somehow above water. To him that strife and stress is
all the world of which he knows; how can he tell whither the stream is going?
31.
But the man who stands on the bank, looking down on it all, can see that
all this bewildering tumult is merely superficial, and that the one fact of real
importance is the steady onward sweep of those millions of tons of water
downwards towards the sea. If we can furthermore suppose the microbe to have
some idea of progress, and to identify it with forward motion, he might well be
dismayed when he found himself hurled aside or borne backwards by an eddy; while
the spectator could see that the apparent backward movement was but a delusion,
since even the little eddies were all being swept onwards with the rest. It is
no exaggeration to say that as is the knowledge of the microbe struggling in the
stream to that of the man looking down upon it, so is the comprehension of life
possessed by the man in the world to that of one who knows its hidden side.
32.
Best of all, though not so easy to follow because of the effort of
imagination involved, is the parable offered to us by Mr. Hinton in his
Scientific Romances. For purposes connected with his argument Mr. Hinton
supposes the construction of a large vertical wooden frame, from top to bottom
of which are tightly stretched a multitude of threads at all sorts of angles. If
then a sheet of paper be inserted horizontally in the frame so that these
threads pass through it, it is obvious that each thread will make a minute hole
in the paper. If then the frame as a whole be moved slowly upwards, but the
paper kept still, various effects will be produced. When a thread is
perpendicular it will slip through its hole without difficulty, but when a
thread is fixed at an angle it will cut a slit in the paper as the frame moves.
33.
Suppose instead of a sheet of paper we have a thin sheet of wax, and let
the wax be sufficiently viscous to close up behind the moving thread. Then
instead of a number of slits we shall have a number of moving holes,
and to a sight which cannot see the threads that cause them, the movement of
these holes will necessarily appear irregular and inexplicable. Some will
approach one another, some will recede; various patterns and combinations will
be formed and dissolve; all depending upon the arrangement of the invisible
threads. Now, by a still more daring flight of fancy, think not of the holes but
of the minute sections of thread for the moment filling them, and imagine those
sections as conscious atoms. They think of themselves as separate entities, they
find themselves moving without their own volition in what seems a maze of
inextricable confusion, and this bewildering dance is life as they know it. Yet
all this apparent complexity and aimless motion is in fact a delusion caused by
the limitation of the consciousness of those atoms, for only one
extremely simple movement is really taking place-- the steady upward motion of
the frame as a whole. But the atom can never comprehend that until it realises
that it is not a separated fragment, but part of a thread.
34.
` Which things are an allegory,' and a very beautiful one; for the
threads are ourselves-- our true selves, our souls-- and the atoms represent us
in this earthly life. So long as we confine our consciousness to the atom, and
look on life only from this earthly standpoint, we can never understand what is
happening in the world. But if we will raise our consciousness to the point of
view of the soul, the thread of which the bodily life is only a minute part and
a temporary expression, we shall then see that there is a splendid simplicity at
the back of all the complexity, a unity behind all the diversity. The complexity
and the diversity are illusions produced by our limitations; the simplicity and
the unity are real.
35.
The world in which we live has a hidden side to it, for the conception of
it in the mind of the ordinary man in the street is utterly imperfect along
three quite distinct lines. First, it has an extension at its own level which he
is at present quite incapable of appreciating; secondly, it has a higher side
which is too refined for his undeveloped perceptions; thirdly, it has a meaning
and a purpose of which he usually has not the faintest glimpse. To say that we
do not see the whole of our world is to state the case far too feebly; what we
see is an absolutely insignificant part of it, beautiful though that part may
be. And just as the additional extension is infinite compared to our idea of
space, and cannot be expressed in its terms, so are the scope and the splendour
of the whole infinitely greater than any conception that can possibly be formed
of it here, and they cannot be expressed in any terms of that part of the world
which we know.
36.
THE FOURTH DIMENSION
37.
The extension spoken of under the first head has often been called the
fourth dimension. Many writers have scoffed at this and denied its existence,
yet for all that it remains a fact that our physical world is in truth a world
of many dimensions, and that every object in it has an extension, however
minute, in a direction which is unthinkable to us at our present stage of mental
evolution. When we develop astral senses we are brought so much more directly
into contact with this extension that our minds are more or less forced into
recognition of it, and the more intelligent gradually grow to understand it;
though there are those of less intellectual growth who, even after death and in
the astral world, cling desperately to their accustomed limitations and adopt
most extraordinary and irrational hypotheses to avoid admitting the existence of
the higher life which they so greatly fear.
38.
Because the easiest way for most people to arrive at a realisation of the
fourth dimension of space is to develop within themselves the power of astral
sight, many persons have come to suppose that the fourth dimension is an
exclusive appanage of the astral world. A little thought will show that this
cannot be so. Fundamentally there is only one kind of matter existing in the
universe, although we call it physical, astral or mental according to the extent
of its subdivision and the rapidity of its vibration. Consequently the
dimensions of space-- if they exist at all-- exist independently of the matter
which lies within them; and whether that space has three dimensions or four or
more, all the matter within it exists subject to those conditions, whether we
are able to appreciate them or not.
39.
It may perhaps help us a little in trying to understand this matter if we
realise that what we call space is a limitation of consciousness, and that there
is a higher level at which a sufficiently developed consciousness is entirely
free from this. We may invest this higher consciousness with the power of
expression in any number of directions, and may then assume that each descent
into a denser world of matter imposes upon it an additional limitation, and
shuts off the perception of one of these directions. We may suppose that by the
time the consciousness has descended as far as the mental world only five of
these directions remain to it; that when it descends or moves outward once more
to the astral level it loses yet one more of its powers, and so is limited to
the conception of four dimensions; then the further descent or outward movement
which brings it into the physical world cuts off from it the possibility of
grasping even that fourth dimension, and so we find ourselves confined to the
three with which we are familiar.
40.
Looking at it from this point of view, it is clear that the conditions of
the universe have remained unaffected, though our power of appreciating them has
changed; so that, although it is true that when our consciousness is functioning
through astral matter we are able to appreciate a fourth dimension which
normally is hidden from us while we work through the physical brain, we must not
therefore make the mistake of thinking that the fourth dimension belongs to the
astral world only and that physical matter exists somehow in a different kind of
space from the astral or mental. Such a suggestion is shown to be unjustified by
the fact that it is possible for a man using his physical brain to attain by
means of practice the power of comprehending some of the four-dimensional forms.
41.
I do not wish here to take up fully the consideration of this fascinating
subject; those who would follow it further should apply themselves to the works
of Mr. C. H. Hinton-- Scientific Romances and The Fourth Dimension
-- the former book for all the interesting possibilities connected with this
study, and the latter for the means whereby the mind can realise the fourth
dimension as a fact. For our present purposes it is necessary only to indicate
that here is an aspect or extension of our world which, though utterly unknown
to the vast majority of men, requires to be studied and to be taken into
consideration by those who wish to understand the whole of life instead of only
a tiny fragment of it.
42.
THE HIGHER WORLD
43.
There is a hidden side to our physical world in a second and higher sense
which is well known to all students of Theosophy, for many lectures have been
delivered and many books have been written in the endeavour to describe the
astral and mental worlds-- the unseen realm which interpenetrates that with
which we are all familiar, and forms by far the most important part of it. A
good deal of information about this higher aspect of our world has been given in
the fifth and the sixth of the Theosophical manuals, and in my own book upon
The Other Side of Death; so here I need do no more than make a short
general statement for the benefit of any reader who has not yet met with those
works.
44.
Modern physicists tell us that matter is interpenetrated by aether-- a
hypothetical substance which they endow with many apparently contradictory
qualities. The occultist knows that there are many varieties of this finer
interpenetrative matter, and that some of the qualities attributed to it by the
scientific men belong not to it at all, but to the primordial substance of which
it is the negation. I do not wish here to turn aside from the object of this
book to give a lengthy disquisition upon the qualities of aether; those who wish
to study this subject may be referred to the book upon Occult Chemistry
, p. 93 . Here it must suffice to say that the true aether of space
exists, just as scientific men have supposed, and possesses most of the curious
contradictory qualities ascribed to it. It is not, however, of that aether
itself, but of matter built up out of the bubbles in it, that the inner worlds
of finer matter are built, of which we have spoken just now. That with which we
are concerned at the moment is the fact that all the matter visible to us is
interpenetrated not only by aether, but also by various kinds of finer matter,
and that of this finer matter there are many degrees.
45.
To the type which is nearest to the physical world occult students have
given the name astral matter; the kind next above that has been called mental,
because out of its texture is built that mechanism of consciousness which is
commonly called the mind in man; and there are other types finer still, with
which for the moment we are not concerned. Every portion of space with which we
have to do must be thought of as containing all these different kinds of matter.
It is practically a scientific postulate that even in the densest forms of
matter no two particles ever touch one another, but each floats alone in its
field of aether, like a sun in space. Just in the same way each particle of the
physical aether floats in a sea of astral matter, and each astral particle in
turn floats in a mental ocean; so that all these additional worlds need no more
space than does this fragment which we know, for in truth they are all parts of
one and the same world.
46.
Man has within himself matter of these finer grades, and by learning to
focus his consciousness in it, instead of only in his physical brain, he may
become cognisant of these inner and higher parts of the world, and acquire much
knowledge of the deepest interest and value. The nature of this unseen world,
its scenery, its inhabitants, its possibilities, are described in the works
above mentioned. It is the existence of these higher realms of nature that makes
occultism possible; and few indeed are the departments of life in which their
influence has not to be considered. From the cradle to the grave we are in close
relation with them during what we call our waking life; during sleep and after
we are even more intimately connected with them, for our existence is then
almost confined to them.
47.
Perhaps the greatest of the many fundamental changes which are inevitable
for the man who studies the facts of life is that which is produced in his
attitude towards death. This matter has been fully treated elsewhere; here I
need state only that the knowledge of the truth about death robs it of all its
terror and much of its sorrow, and enables us to see it in its true proportion
and to understand its place in the scheme of our evolution. It is perfectly
possible to learn to know about all these things instead of accepting
beliefs blindly at secondhand, as most people do; and knowledge means power,
security and happiness.
48.
THE PURPOSE OF LIFE
49.
The third aspect of our world which is hidden from the majority is the
plan and purpose of existence. Most men seem to muddle through life without any
discernible object, except possibly the purely physical struggle to make money
or attain power, because they vaguely think that these things will bring them
happiness. They have no definite theory as to why they are here, nor any
certainty as to the future that awaits them. They have not even realised that
they are souls and not bodies, and that as such their development is part of a
mighty scheme of cosmic evolution.
50.
When once this grandest of truths has dawned upon a man' s horizon there
comes over him that change which occidental religion calls conversion-- a fine
word which has been sadly degraded by improper associations, for it has often
been used to signify nothing more than a crisis of emotion hypnotically induced
by the surging waves of excited feeling radiated by a half-maddened crowd. Its
true meaning is exactly what its derivation implies, ` a turning together with'
. Before it, the man, unaware of the stupendous current of evolution, has, under
the delusion of selfishness, been fighting against it; but the moment that the
magnificence of the Divine Plan bursts upon his astonished sight there is no
other possibility for him but to throw all his energies into the effort to
promote its fulfilment, to ` turn and go together with' that splendid stream of
the love and the wisdom of God.
51.
His one object then is to qualify himself to help the world, and all his
thoughts and actions are directed towards that aim. He may forget for the moment
under the stress of temptation, but the oblivion can be only temporary; and this
is the meaning of the ecclesiastical dogma that the elect can never finally fail
. Discrimination has come to him, the opening of the doors of the mind, to
adopt the terms employed for this change in older faiths; he knows now what is
real and what is unreal, what is worth gaining and what is valueless. He lives
as an immortal soul who is a Spark of the Divine Fire, instead of as one of the
beasts that perish-- to use a biblical phrase which, however, is entirely
incorrect, inasmuch as the beasts do not perish, except in the sense of
their being reabsorbed into their group-soul.
52.
Most truly for this man an aspect of life has been displayed which erst
was hidden from his eyes. It would even be truer to say that now for the first
time he has really begun to live, while before he merely dragged out an
inefficient existence.
53.
SECOND SECTION
54.
HOW WE ARE INFLUENCED
55.
CHAPTER III
56.
BY PLANETS
57.
RADIATIONS
58.
THE first fact which it is necessary for us to realise is that everything
is radiating influence on its surroundings, and these surroundings are all the
while returning the compliment by pouring influence upon it in return. Literally
everything-- sun, moon, stars, angels, men, animals, trees, rocks--
everything is pouring out a ceaseless stream of vibrations, each of its own
characteristic type; not in the physical world only, but in other and subtler
worlds as well. Our physical senses can appreciate only a limited number of such
radiations. We readily feel the heat poured forth by the sun or by a fire, but
we are usually not conscious of the fact that we ourselves are constantly
radiating heat; yet if we hold out a hand towards a radiometer the delicate
instrument will respond to the heat imparted by that hand even at a distance of
several feet, and will begin to revolve. We say that a rose has a scent and that
a daisy has none; yet the daisy is throwing off particles just as much as the
rose, only in the one case they happen to be perceptible to our senses, and in
the other they are not.
59.
From early ages men have believed that the sun, the moon, the planets and
the stars exercised a certain influence over human life. In the present day most
people are content to laugh at such a belief, without knowing anything about it;
yet anyone who will take the trouble to make a careful and impartial study of
astrology will discover much that cannot be lightly thrown aside. He will meet
with plenty of errors, no doubt, some of them ridiculous enough; but he will
also find a proportion of accurate results which is far too large to be
reasonably ascribed to coincidence. His investigations will convince him that
there is unquestionably some foundation for the claims of the astrologers, while
at the same time he cannot but observe that their systems are as yet far from
perfect.
60.
When we remember the enormous space that separates us from even the
nearest of the planets, it is at once obvious that we must reject the idea that
they can exercise upon us any physical action worth considering; and
furthermore, if there were any such action, it would seem that its strength
should depend less upon the position of the planet in the sky than upon its
proximity to the earth-- a factor which is not usually taken into account by
astrologers. The more we contemplate the matter the less does it seem rational
or possible to suppose that the planets can affect the earth or its inhabitants
to any appreciable extent; yet the fact remains that a theory based upon this
apparent impossibility often works out accurately. Perhaps the explanation may
be found along the line that just as the movement of the hands of a clock shows
the passage of time, though it does not cause it, so the motions of the planets
indicate the prevalence of certain influences, but are in no way responsible for
them. Let us see what light occult study throws upon this somewhat perplexing
subject.
61.
THE DEITY OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM
62.
Occult students regard the entire solar system in all its vast complexity
as a partial manifestation of one great living Being, and all its parts as
expressing aspects of Him. Many names have been given to Him; in our
Theosophical literature He has often been described under the Gnostic title of
the Logos-- the Word that was in the beginning with God, and was God; but now we
usually speak of Him as the Solar Deity. All the physical constituents of the
solar system-- the sun with its wonderful corona, all the planets with their
satellites, their oceans, their atmospheres and the various aethers surrounding
them-- all these are collectively His physical body, the expression of Him in
the physical realm.
63.
In the same way the collective astral worlds-- not only the astral worlds
belonging to each of the physical planets, but also the purely astral planets of
all the chains of the system (such, for example, as planets B and F of our
chain)-- make up His astral body, and the collective worlds of the mental realm
are His mental body-- the vehicle through which He manifests Himself upon that
particular level. Every atom of every world is a centre through which He is
conscious, so that not only is it true that God is omnipresent, but also that
whatever is is God.
64.
Thus we see that the old pantheistic conception was quite true, yet it is
only a part of the truth, because while all nature in all its worlds is nothing
but His garment, yet He Himself exists outside of and above all this in a
stupendous life of which we can know nothing-- a life among other Rulers of
other systems. Just as all our lives are lived literally within Him and are in
truth a part of His, so His life and that of the Solar Deities of countless
other systems are a part of a still greater life of the Deity of the visible
universe; and if there be in the depths of space yet other universes invisible
to us, all of their Deities in turn must in the same way form part of One Great
Consciousness which includes the whole.
65.
DIFFERENT TYPES OF MATTER
66.
In these ` bodies' of the Solar Deity on their various levels there are
certain different classes or types of matter, which are fairly equally
distributed over the whole system. I am not speaking here of our usual division
of the worlds and their subsections-- a division which is made according to the
density of the matter, so that in the physical world, for example, we have the
solid, liquid, gaseous, etheric, super-etheric, sub-atomic and atomic conditions
of matter-- all of them physical, but differing in density. The types which I
mean constitute a totally distinct series of cross-divisions, each of which
contains matter in all its different conditions, so that if we denote the
various types by numbers, we shall find solid, liquid and gaseous matter of the
first type, solid, liquid and gaseous matter of the second type, and so on all
the way through.
67.
These types of matter are as thoroughly intermingled as are the
constituents of our atmosphere. Conceive a room filled with air; any decided
vibration communicated to the air, such as a sound, for example, would be
perceptible in every part of the room. Suppose that it were possible to produce
some kind of undulation which should affect the oxygen alone without disturbing
the nitrogen, that undulation would still be felt in every part of the room. If
we allow that, for a moment, the proportion of oxygen might be greater in one
part of the room than another, then the oscillation, though perceptible
everywhere, would be strongest in that part. Just as the air in a room is
composed (principally) of oxygen and nitrogen, so is the matter of the solar
system composed of these different types; and just as a wave (if there could be
such a thing) which affected only the oxygen or only the nitrogen would
nevertheless be felt in all parts of the room, so a movement or modification
which affects only one of these types produces an effect throughout the entire
solar system, though it may be stronger in one part than in another.
68.
This statement is true of all worlds, but for the sake of clearness let
us for the moment confine our thought to one world only. Perhaps the idea is
easiest to follow with regard to the astral. It has often been explained that in
the astral body of man, matter belonging to each of the astral sub-sections is
to be found, and that the proportion between the denser and the finer kinds
shows how far that body is capable of responding to coarse or refined desires,
and so is to some extent an indication of the degree to which the man has
evolved himself. Similarly in each astral body there is matter of each of these
types, and in this case the proportion between them will show the disposition of
the man-- whether he is devotional or philosophic, artistic or scientific,
pragmatic or mystic.
69.
THE LIVING CENTRES
70.
Now each of these types of matter in the astral body of the Solar Deity
is to some extent a separate vehicle, and may be thought of as also the astral
body of a subsidiary Deity or Minister, who is at the same time an aspect of the
Deity of the system, a kind of ganglion or force-centre in Him. Indeed, if these
types differ among themselves, it is because the matter composing them
originally came forth through these different living Centres, and the matter of
each type is still the special vehicle and expression of the subsidiary Deity
through whom it came, so that the slightest thought, movement or alteration of
any kind in Him is instantly reflected in some way or other in all the matter of
the corresponding type. Naturally each such type of matter has its own special
affinities, and is capable of vibrating under influences which may probably
evoke no response from the other types.
71.
Since every man has within himself matter of all these types, it
is obvious that any modification in or action of any one of these great living
Centres must to some degree affect all beings in the system. The extent to which
any particular person is so affected depends upon the proportion of the type of
matter acted upon which he happens to have in his astral body. Consequently we
find different types of men as of matter, and by reason of their constitution,
by the very composition of their astral bodies, some of them are more
susceptible to one influence, some to another.
72.
The types are seven, and astrologers have often given to them the names
of certain of the planets. Each type is divided into seven sub-types, because
each ` planet' may be either practically uninfluenced, or it may be affected
predominantly by any one of the other six. In addition to the forty-nine
definite sub-types thus obtained, there are any number of possible permutations
and combinations of influences, often so complicated that it is no easy matter
to follow them. Nevertheless, this gives us a certain system of classification,
according to which we can arrange not only human beings, but also the animal,
vegetable and mineral kingdoms, and the elemental essence which precedes them in
evolution.
73.
Everything in the solar system belongs to one or other of these seven
great streams, because it has come out through one or other of these great
Force-Centres, to which therefore it belongs in essence, although it must
inevitably be affected more or less by the others also. This gives each man,
each animal, each plant, each mineral a certain fundamental characteristic which
never changes-- sometimes symbolised as his note, his colour or his ray.
74.
This characteristic is permanent not only through one chain-period, but
through the whole planetary scheme, so that the life which manifests through
elemental essence of type A will in the due course of its evolution ensoul
successively minerals, plants, and animals of type A; and when its group-soul
breaks up into units and receives the Third Outpouring, the human beings which
are the result of its evolution will be men of type A and no other, and under
normal conditions will continue so all through their development until they grow
into Adepts of type A.
75.
In the earlier days of Theosophical study we were under the impression
that this plan was carried out consistently to the very end, and that these
Adepts rejoined the Solar Deity through the same subsidiary Deity or Minister
through whom they originally came forth. Further research shows that this
thought requires modification. We find that bands of egos of many different
types join themselves together for a common object.
76.
For example, in the investigations connected primarily with the lives of
Alcyone it was found that certain bands of egos circled round the various
Masters, and came closer and closer to Them as time went on. One by one, as they
became fit for it, these egos reached the stage at which they were accepted as
pupils or apprentices by one or other of the Masters. To become truly a pupil of
a Master means entering into relations with Him whose intimacy is far beyond any
tie of which we know on earth. It means a degree of union with Him which no
words can fully express, although at the same time a pupil retains absolutely
his own individuality and his own initiative.
77.
In this way each Master becomes a centre of what may be truly described
as a great organism, since his pupils are veritably members of Him. When we
realise that He Himself is in just the same way a Member of some still greater
Master we arrive at a conception of a mighty. organism which is in a very real
sense one, although built up of thousands of perfectly distinct egos.
78.
Such an organism is the Heavenly Man who emerges as the result of the
evolution of each great root-race. In Him, as in an earthly man, are seven great
centres, each of which is a mighty Adept; and the Manu and the Bodhisattva
occupy in this great organism the place of the brain and the heart centres
respectively. Round Them-- and yet not round Them, but in Them
and part of Them, although so fully and gloriously ourselves-- shall we, Their
servants, be; and this great figure in its totality represents the flower of
that particular race, and includes all who have attained Adeptship through it.
Each root-race is thus represented at its close by one of these Heavenly Men;
and They, these splendid totalities, will, as Their next stage in evolution,
become Ministers Themselves of some future Solar Deity. Yet each one of these
contains within Himself men of all possible types, so that each of these future
Ministers is in truth a representative not of one line but of all lines.
79.
When looked at from a sufficiently high level the whole solar system is
seen to consist of these great living Centres or Ministers, and the types of
matter through which each is expressing Himself. Let me repeat here for the sake
of clearness, what I wrote some time ago on this subject in The Inner Life,
vol. i, page 217:
80.
Each of these great living Centres has a sort of orderly periodic change
or motion of his own, corresponding perhaps on some infinitely higher level to
the regular beating of the human heart, or to the inspiration and expiration of
the breath. Some of these periodic changes are more rapid than others, so that a
complicated series of effects is produced; and it has been observed that the
movements of the physical planets in their relation to one another furnish a
clue to the operation of these influences at any given moment. Each of these
Centres has His special location or major focus within the body of the sun, and
a minor exterior focus which is always marked by the position of a planet.
81.
The exact relation can hardly be made clear in our three-dimensional
phraseology; but we may perhaps put it that each Centre has a field of influence
practically co-extensive with a solar system; that if a section of this field
could be taken it would be found to be elliptical; and that one of the foci of
each ellipse would always be the sun, and the other would be the special planet
ruled by that Minister. It is probable that, in the gradual condensation of the
original glowing nebula from which the system was formed, the location of the
planets was determined by the formation of vortices at these minor foci, they
being auxiliary points of distribution of these influences-- ganglia, as it
were, in the solar system.
82.
It must of course be understood that we are referring here not to the
curious astrological theory which considers the sun himself as a planet, but to
the real planets which revolve round him.
83.
THEIR INFLUENCE
84.
The influences belonging to these great types differ widely in quality,
and one way in which this difference shows itself is in their action upon the
living elemental essence both in man and around him. Be it ever remembered that
this dominance is exerted in all worlds, not only in the astral, though
we are just now confining ourselves to that for simplicity' s sake.
These mysterious agencies may have, and indeed must have, other and
more important lines of action not at present known to us; but this at least
forces itself upon the notice of the observer, that each Centre produces its own
special effect upon the manifold varieties of elemental essence.
85.
One, for example, will be found greatly to stimulate the activity and the
vitality of those kinds of essence which specially appertain to the Centre
through which it comes, while apparently checking and controlling others; the
sway of another type will be seen to be strong over a quite different set of
essences which belong to its Centre, while apparently not affecting the previous
set in the least. There are all sorts of combinations and permutations of these
mystic powers, the action of one of them being in some cases greatly intensified
and in others almost neutralised by the presence of another.
86.
Since this elemental essence is vividly active in the astral and mental
bodies of man, it is clear that any unusual excitation of any of these classes
of that essence-- any sudden increase in its activity-- must undoubtedly affect
to some extent either his emotions or his mind, or both; and it is also obvious
that these forces would work differently on different men, because of the
varieties of essence entering into their composition.
87.
These influences neither exist nor are exercised for the sake of the man
or with any reference to him, any more than the wind exists for the sake of the
vessel which is helped or hindered by it; they are part of the play of cosmic
forces of whose object we know nothing, though we may to some extent learn how
to calculate upon them and to use them. Such energies in themselves are no more
good nor evil than any other of the powers of nature: like electricity or any
other great natural force they may be helpful or hurtful to us, according to the
use that we make of them. Just as certain experiments are more likely to be
successful if undertaken when the air is heavily charged with electricity, while
certain others under such conditions will most probably fail, so an effort
involving the use of the powers of our mental and emotional nature will more or
less readily achieve its object according to the influences which predominate
when it is made.
88.
LIBERTY OF ACTION
89.
It is of the utmost importance for us to understand that such pressure
cannot dominate man' s will in the slightest degree; all it can do is in some
cases to make it easier or more difficult for that will to act along certain
lines. In no case can a man be swept away by it into any course of action
without his own consent, though he may evidently be helped or hindered by it in
any effort that he chances to be making. The really strong man has little need
to trouble himself as to the agencies which happen to be in the ascendant, but
for men of weaker will it may sometimes be worth while to know at what moment
this or that force can most advantageously be applied. These factors may be put
aside as a negligible quantity by the man of iron determination or by the
student of true occultism; but since most men still allow themselves to be the
helpless sport of the forces of desire, and have not yet developed anything
worth calling a will of their own, their feebleness permits these influences to
assume an importance in human life to which they have intrinsically no claim.
90.
For example, a certain variety of pressure may occasionally bring about a
condition of affairs in which all forms of nervous excitement are considerably
intensified, and there is consequently a general sense of irritability abroad.
That condition cannot cause a quarrel between sensible people; but under such
circumstances disputes arise far more readily than usual, even on the most
trifling pretexts, and the large number of people who seem to be always on the
verge of losing their tempers are likely to relinquish all control of themselves
on even less than ordinary provocation. It may sometimes happen that such
influences, playing on the smouldering discontent of ignorant jealousy, may fan
it into an outburst of popular frenzy from which wide-spread disaster may ensue.
91.
Even in such a case as this we must guard ourselves against the fatal
mistake of supposing the influence to be evil because man' s passions turn it to
evil effect. The force itself is simply a wave of activity sent forth from one
of the Centres of the Deity, and is in itself of the nature of an
intensification of certain vibrations-- necessary perhaps to produce some
far-reaching cosmic effect. The increased activity produced incidentally by its
means in the astral body of a man offers him an opportunity of testing his power
to manage his vehicles; and whether he succeeds or fails in this, it is still
one of the lessons which help in his evolution. Karma may throw a man into
certain surroundings or bring him under certain influences, but it can never
force him to commit a crime, though it may so place him that it requires great
determination on his part to avoid that crime. It is possible, therefore, for an
astrologer to warn a man of the circumstances under which at a given time be
will find himself, but any definite prophecy as to his action under those
circumstances can only be based upon probabilities-- though we may readily
recognise how nearly such prophecies become certainties in the case of the
ordinary will-less man. From the extraordinary mixture of success and failure
which characterise modern astrological predictions, it seems fairly certain that
the practitioners, of this art are not fully acquainted with all the necessary
factors. In a case into which only those factors enter which are already fairly
well understood, success is achieved; but in cases where unrecognised factors
come into play we have naturally more or less complete failure as the result.
92.
CHAPTER IV
93.
BY THE SUN
94.
THE HEAT OF THE SUN
95.
THOSE who are interested in astronomy will find the occult side of that
science one of the most fascinating studies within our reach. Obviously it would
be at once too recondite and too technical for inclusion in such a book as this,
which is concerned more immediately with such of the unseen phenomena as affect
us practically in our daily life; but the connection of the sun with that life
is so intimate that it is necessary that a few words should be said about him.
96.
The whole solar system is truly the garment of its Deity, but the sun is
His veritable epiphany-- the nearest that we can come in the physical realm to a
manifestation of Him, the lens through which His power shines forth upon us.
97.
Regarded purely from the physical point of view, the sun is a vast mass
of glowing matter at almost inconceivably high temperatures, and in a condition
of electrification so intense as to be altogether beyond our experience.
Astronomers, supposing his heat to be due merely to contraction, used to
calculate how long he must have existed in the past, and how long it would be
possible for him to maintain it in the future; and they found themselves unable
to allow more than a few hundred thousand years either way, while the geologists
on the other hand claim that on this earth alone we have evidence of processes
extending over millions of years. The discovery of radium has upset the older
theories, but even with its aid they have not yet risen to the simplicity of the
real explanation of the difficulty.
98.
One can imagine some intelligent microbe living in or upon a human body
and arguing about its temperature in precisely the same way. He might say that
it must of course be a gradually cooling body, and he might calculate with
exactitude that in so many hours or minutes it must reach a temperature that
would render continued existence impossible for him. If he lived long enough,
however, he would find that the human body did not cool, as according
to his theories it should do, and no doubt this would seem to him very
mysterious, unless and until he discovered that he was dealing not with a dying
fire but with a living being, and that as long as the life remained the
temperature would not sink. In exactly the same way if we realise that the sun
is the physical manifestation of the Solar Deity, we shall see that the mighty
life behind it will assuredly keep up its temperature, as long as may be
necessary for the full evolution of the system.
99.
THE WILLOW-LEAVES
100.
A similar explanation offers us a solution of some of the other problems
of solar physics. For example, the phenomena called from their shape the `
willow-leaves' or ` rice-grains,' of which the photosphere of the sun is
practically composed, have often puzzled exoteric students by the apparently
irreconcilable characteristics which they present. From their position they can
be nothing else than masses of glowing gas at an exceedingly high temperature,
and therefore of great tenuity; yet though they must be far lighter than any
terrestrial cloud, they never fail to maintain their peculiar shape, however
wildly they may be tossed about in the very midst of storms of power so
tremendous that they would instantly destroy the earth itself.
101.
When we realise that behind each of these strange objects there is a
splendid Life-- that each may be considered as the physical body of a great
Angel-- we comprehend that it is that Life which holds them together and gives
them their wonderful stability. To apply to them the term physical body may
perhaps mislead us, because for us the life in the physical seems of so much
importance and occupies so prominent a position in the present stage of our
evolution. Madame Blavatsky has told us that we cannot truly describe them as
solar inhabitants, since the Solar Beings will hardly place themselves in
telescopic focus, but that they are the reservoirs of solar vital energy,
themselves partaking of the life which they pour forth.
102.
Let us say rather that the willow-leaves are manifestations upon the
physical level maintained by the solar Angels for a special purpose, at the cost
of a certain sacrifice or limitation of their activities on the higher levels
which are their normal habitat. Remembering that it is through these
willow-leaves that the light, heat and vitality of the sun come to us, we may
readily see that the object of this sacrifice is to bring down to the physical
level certain forces which would otherwise remain unmanifested, and that these
great Angels are acting as channels, as reflectors, as specialisers of divine
power-- that they are in fact doing at cosmic levels and for a solar system
what, if we are wise enough to use our privileges, we ourselves may do on a
microscopical scale in our own little circle, as will be seen in a later
chapter.
103.
VITALITY
104.
We all know the feeling of cheerfulness and well-being which sunlight
brings to us, but only students of occultism are fully aware of the reasons for
that sensation. Just as the sun floods his system with light and heat, so does
he perpetually pour out into it another force as yet unsuspected by modern
science-- a force to which has been given the name ` vitality' . This is
radiated on all levels, and manifests itself in each realm-- physical,
emotional, mental and the rest-- but we are specially concerned for the moment
with its appearance in the lowest, where it enters some of the physical atoms,
immensely increases their activity, and makes them animated and glowing.
105.
We must not confuse this force with electricity, though it in some ways
resembles it. The Deity sends forth from Himself three great forms of energy;
there may be hundreds more of which we know nothing; but at least there are
three. Each of them has its appropriate manifestation at every level which our
students have yet reached; but for the moment let us think of them as they show
themselves in the physical world. One of them exhibits itself as electricity,
another as vitality, and the third as the serpent-fire, of which I have already
written in The Inner Life.
106.
These three remain distinct, and none of them can at this level be
converted into either of the others. They have no connection with any of the
Three Great Outpourings; all of those are definite efforts made by the Solar
Deity, while these seem rather to be results of His life-- His qualities in
manifestation without any visible effort. Electricity while it is rushing
through the atoms, deflects them and holds them in a certain way-- this effect
being in addition to and quite apart from the special rate of vibration which it
also imparts to them.
107.
But the action of vitality differs in many ways from that of electricity,
light or heat. Any of the variants of this latter force cause oscillation of the
atom as a whole-- an oscillation the size of which is enormous as compared with
that of the atom; but this other force which we call vitality comes to the atom
not from without, but from within.
108.
THE VITALITY GLOBULE
109.
The atom is itself nothing but the manifestation of a force; the Solar
Deity wills a certain shape which we call an ultimate physical atom, and by that
effort of His will some fourteen thousand million bubbles are held in that
particular form. It is necessary to emphasise the fact that the cohesion of the
bubbles in that form is entirely dependent upon that effort of will, so that if
that were for a single instant withdrawn, the bubbles must fall apart again, and
the whole physical realm would simply cease to exist in far less than the period
of a flash of lightning. So true is it that the whole world is nothing but
illusion, even from this point of view, to say nothing of the fact that the
bubbles of which the atom is built are themselves only holes in koilon, the true
aether of space.
110.
So it is the will-force of the Solar Deity continually exercised which
holds the atom together as such; and when we try to examine the action of that
force we see that it does not come into the atom from outside, but wells up
within it-- which means that it enters it from higher dimensions. The same is
true with regard to this other force which we call vitality; it enters the atom
from within, along with the force that holds that atom together, instead of
acting upon it entirely from without, as do those other varieties of force which
we call light, heat or electricity.
111.
When vitality wells up thus within the atom it endows it with an
additional life, and gives it a power of attraction, so that it immediately
draws round it six other atoms, which it arranges in a definite form, this
making what has been called in Occult Chemistry a
hyper-meta-proto-element. But this element differs from all others which have so
far been observed, in that the force which creates it and holds it together
comes from the second Aspect of the Solar Deity instead of from the third This
vitality-globule is drawn upon page 45 of Occult Chemistry, where it
stands first at the left hand of the top line in the diagram. It is the little
group which makes the exceedingly brilliant bead upon the male or positive snake
in the chemical element oxygen, and it is also the heart of the central globe in
radium.
112.
These globules are conspicuous above all others which may be seen
floating in the atmosphere, on account of their brilliance and extreme
activity-- the intensely vivid life which they show. These are probably the
fiery lives so often mentioned by Madame Blavatsky, though she appears to employ
that term in two senses. In The Secret Doctrine, vol. ii, 709, it seems
to mean the globule as a whole, in vol. i, 283, it probably means the original
additionally-vitalised atoms, each of which draws round itself six others.
113.
While the force that vivifies the globules is quite different from light,
it nevertheless appears to depend upon light for its power of manifestation. In
brilliant sunshine this vitality is constantly welling up afresh, and the
globules are generated with great rapidity and in incredible numbers; but in
cloudy weather there is a great diminution in the number of globules formed, and
during the night the operation appears to be entirely suspended. During the
night, therefore, we may be said to be living upon the stock manufactured during
the previous day, and though it appears practically impossible that it should
ever be entirely exhausted, that stock evidently does run low when there is a
long succession of cloudy days. The globule, once charged, remains as a
sub-atomic element, and does not appear to be subject to any change or loss of
force unless and until it is absorbed by some living creature.
114.
THE ABSORPTION OF VITALITY
115.
This vitality is absorbed by all living organisms, and a sufficient
supply of it seems to be a necessity of their existence. In the case of men and
the higher animals it is absorbed through the centre or vortex in the etheric
double which corresponds with the spleen. It will be remembered that that centre
has six petals, made by the undulatory movement of the forces which cause the
vortex. But this undulatory movement is itself caused by the radiation of other
forces from the centre of that vortex. Imaging the central point of the vortex
as the hub of a wheel, we may think of these last-mentioned forces as
represented by spokes radiating from it in straight lines. Then the vortical
forces, sweeping round and round, pass alternately under and over these spokes
as though they were weaving a kind of etheric basket-work, and in this way is
obtained the appearance of six petals separated by depressions.
116.
When the unit of vitality is flashing about in the atmosphere, brilliant
as it is, it is almost colourless, and may be compared to white light. But as
soon as it is drawn into the vortex of the force-centre at the spleen it is
decomposed and breaks up into streams of different colours, though it does not
follow exactly our division of the spectrum. As its component atoms are whirled
round the vortex, each of the six spokes seizes upon one of them, so that all
the atoms charged with yellow rush along one, and all those charged with green
along another, and so on, while the seventh disappears through the centre of the
vortex-- through the hub of the wheel, as it were. Those rays then rush off in
different directions, each to do its special work in the vitalisation of the
body. As I have said, however, the divisions are not exactly those which we
ordinarily use in the solar spectrum, but rather resemble the arrangement of
colours which we see on higher levels in the causal, mental and astral bodies.
117.
For example, what we call indigo is divided between the violet ray and
the blue ray, so that we find only two divisions there instead of three; but on
the other hand what we call red is divided into two-- rose red and dark red. The
six radiants are therefore violet, blue, green, yellow, orange, and dark red;
while the seventh or rose red atom (more properly the first, since this is the
original atom in which the force first appeared) passes down through the centre
of the vortex. Vitality is thus clearly sevenfold in its constitution, but it
rushes through the body in five main streams, as has been described in some of
the Indian books,¹ (¹ “To them spoke the principal life: Be not lost in delusion
I even, fivefold dividing myself, uphold this body by my support.” --
Prashnopanishad . ii, 3. “From this proceed these seven flames.” --
Ibid ., iii, 5.) for after issuing from splenic centre the blue and the
violet join into one ray, and so do the orange and the dark red.
(1) The
violet-blue ray flashes upwards to the throat, where it seems to divide itself,
the light blue remaining to course through and vivify the throat-centre, while
the dark blue and violet pass on into the brain. The dark blue expends itself in
the lower and central parts of the brain, while the violet floods the upper part
and appears to give special vigour to the force-centre at the top of the head,
diffusing itself chiefly through the nine hundred and sixty petals of the outer
part of that centre.
(2) The yellow ray
is directed to the heart, but after doing its work there, part of it also passes
on to the brain and permeates it, directing itself principally to the
twelve-petalled flower in the midst of the highest force-centre.
(3) The green ray
floods the abdomen and, while centring especially in the solar plexus, evidently
vivifies the liver, kidneys and intestines, and the digestive apparatus
generally.
(4) The
rose-coloured ray runs all over the body along the nerves, and is clearly the
life of the nervous system. This is what is commonly described as vitality-- the
specialised vitality which one man may readily pour into another in whom it is
deficient. If the nerves are not fully supplied with this rosy light they become
sensitive and intensely irritable, so that the patient finds it almost
impossible to remain in one position, and yet gains but little ease when he
moves to another. The least noise or touch is agony to him, and he is in a
condition of acute misery. The flooding of his nerves with specialised vitality
by some healthy person brings instant relief, and a feeling of healing and peace
descends upon him. A man in robust health usually absorbs and specialises so
much more vitality than is actually needed by his own body that he is constantly
radiating a torrent of rose-coloured atoms, and so unconsciously pours strength
upon his weaker fellows without losing anything himself; or by an effort of his
will he can gather together this superfluous energy and aim it intentionally at
one whom he wishes to help.
118.
The physical body has a certain blind, instinctive consciousness of its
own, corresponding in the physical world to the desire-elemental of the astral
body; and this consciousness seeks always to protect it from danger, or to
procure for it whatever may be necessary. This is entirely apart from the
consciousness of the man himself, and it works equally well during the absence
of the ego from the physical body during sleep. All our instinctive movements
are due to it, and it is through its activity that the working of the
sympathetic system is carried on ceaselessly without any thought or knowledge on
our part.
119.
While we are what we call awake, this physical elemental is perpetually
occupied in self-defence; he is in a condition of constant vigilance, and he
keeps the nerves and muscles always tense. During the night or at any time when
we sleep he lets the nerves and muscles relax, and devotes himself specially to
the assimilation of vitality, and the recuperation of the physical body. He
works at this most successfully during the early part of the night, because then
there is plenty of vitality, whereas immediately before the dawn the vitality
which has been left behind by the sunlight is almost completely exhausted. This
is the reason for the feeling of limpness and deadness associated with the small
hours of the morning; this is also the reason why sick men so frequently die at
that particular time. The same idea is embodied in the old proverb that: “An
hour' s sleep before midnight is worth two after it.” The work of this physical
elemental accounts for the strong recuperative influence of sleep, which is
often observable even when it is a mere momentary nap.
120.
This vitality is indeed the food of the etheric double, and is just as
necessary to it as is sustenance to the grosser part of the physical body. Hence
when the body is unable for any reason (as through sickness, fatigue or extreme
old age) to prepare vitality for the nourishment of its cells, this physical
elemental endeavours to draw in for his own use vitality which has already been
prepared in the bodies of others; and thus it happens that we often find
ourselves weak and exhausted after sitting for a while with a person who is
depleted of vitality, because he has drawn away from us by suction the
rose-coloured atoms before we were able to extract their energy.
121.
The vegetable kingdom also absorbs this vitality, but seems in most cases
to use only a small part of it. Many trees draw from it almost exactly the same
constituents as does the higher part of man' s etheric body, the result being
that when they have used what they require, the atoms which they reject are
precisely those charged with the rose-coloured light which is needed for the
cells of man' s physical body. This is specially the case with such trees as the
pine and the eucalyptus; and consequently the very neighbourhood of these trees
gives health and strength to those who are suffering from lack of this part of
the vital principle-- those whom we call nervous people. They are nervous
because the cells of their bodies are hungry, and the nervousness can only be
allayed by feeding them; and often the readiest way to do that is thus to supply
them from without with the special kind of vitality which they need.
122.
(5) The orange-red ray flows to the base of the spine and thence to the
generative organs, with which one part of its functions is closely connected.
This ray appears to include not only the orange and the darker reds, but also a
certain amount of dark purple, as though the spectrum bent round in a circle and
the colours began over again at a lower octave. In the normal man this ray
energises the desires of the flesh, and also seems to enter the blood and keep
up the heat of the body; but if a man persistently refuses to yield to his lower
nature, this ray can by long and determined effort be deflected upwards to the
brain, where all three of its constituents undergo a remarkable modification.
The orange is raised into pure yellow, and produces a decided intensification of
the powers of the intellect; the dark red becomes crimson, and greatly increases
the power of unselfish affection; while the dark purple is transmuted into a
lovely pale violet, and quickens the spiritual part of man' s nature. The man
who achieves this transmutation will find that sensual desires no longer trouble
him, and when it becomes necessary for him to arouse the serpent-fire, he will
be free from the most serious of the dangers of that process. When a man has
finally completed this change, this orange-red ray passes straight into the
centre at the base of the spine, and from that runs upwards along the hollow of
the vertebral column, and so to the brain.
123.
VITALITY AND HEALTH
124.
The flow of vitality in these various currents regulates the health of
the parts of the body with which they are concerned. If, for example, a person
is suffering from a weak digestion, it manifests itself at once to any person
possessing etheric sight, because either the flow and action of the green stream
is sluggish or its amount is smaller in proportion than it should be. Where the
yellow current is full and strong, it indicates, or more properly produces,
strength and regularity in the action of the heart. Flowing round that centre,
it also interpenetrates the blood which is driven through it, and is sent along
with it all over the body. Yet there is enough of it left to extend into the
brain also, and the power of high philosophical and metaphysical thought appears
to depend to a great extent upon the volume and activity of this yellow stream,
and the corresponding awakening of the twelve-petalled flower in the middle of
the force-centre at the top of the head.
125.
Thought and emotion of a high spiritual type seem to depend largely upon
the violet ray, whereas the power of ordinary thought is stimulated by the
action of the blue mingled with part of the yellow. It has been observed that in
some forms of idiocy the flow of vitality to the brain, both yellow and
blue-violet, is almost entirely inhibited. Unusual activity or volume in the
light blue which is apportioned to the throat-centre is accompanied by the
health and strength of the physical organs in that part of the body. It gives,
for example, strength and elasticity to the vocal chords, so that special
brilliance and activity are noticeable in the case of a public speaker or a
great singer. Weakness or disease in any part of the body is accompanied by a
deficiency in the flow of vitality to that part.
126.
As the different streams of atoms do their work, the charge of vitality
is withdrawn from them, precisely as an electrical charge might be. The atoms
bearing the rose-coloured ray grow gradually paler as they are swept along the
nerves, and are eventually thrown out from the body through the pores-- making
thus what was called in Man Visible and Invisible the health-aura. By
the time that they leave the body most of them have lost the rose-coloured
light, so that the general appearance of the emanation is bluish-white. That
part of the yellow ray which is absorbed into the blood and carried round with
it loses its distinctive colour in just the same way.
127.
The atoms, when thus emptied of their charge of vitality, either enter
into some of the combinations which are constantly being made in the body, or
pass out of it through the pores, or through the ordinary channels. The emptied
atoms of the green ray, which is connected chiefly with digestive processes,
seem to form part of the ordinary waste material of the body, and to pass out
along with it, and that is also the fate of the atoms of the red-orange ray in
the case of the ordinary man. The atoms belonging to the blue rays, which are
used in connection with the throat-centre, generally leave the body in the
exhalations of the breath; and those which compose the dark blue and violet rays
usually pass out from the centre at the top of the head.
128.
When the student has learnt to deflect the orange-red rays so that they
also move up through the spine, the empty atoms of both these and the
violet-blue rays pour out from the top of the head in a fiery cascade, which is
frequently imaged as a flame in ancient statues of the BUDDHA and other great
Saints. When empty of the vital force the atoms are once more precisely like any
other atoms; the body absorbs such of them as it needs, so that they form part
of the various combinations which are constantly being made, while others which
are not required for such purposes are cast out through any channel that happens
to be convenient.
129.
The flow of vitality into or through any centre, or even its
intensification, must not be confused with the entirely different development of
the centre which is brought about by the awakening of the serpent-fire at a
later stage in man' s evolution. We all of us draw in vitality and specialise
it, but many of us do not utilise it to the full, because in various ways our
lives are not as pure and healthy and reasonable as they should be. One who
coarsens his body by the use of meat, alcohol or tobacco can never employ his
vitality to the full in the same way as can a man of purer living. A particular
individual of impure life may be, and often is stronger in the physical body
than certain other men who are purer; that is a matter of their respective
karma; but other things being equal, the man of pure life has an immense
advantage.
130.
VITALITY NOT MAGNETISM
131.
The vitality coursing along the nerves must not be confused with what we
usually call the magnetism of the man-- his own nerve-fluid, generated within
himself. It is this fluid which keeps up the constant circulation of etheric
matter along the nerves, corresponding to the circulation of blood through the
veins; and as oxygen is conveyed by the blood to all parts of the body, so
vitality is conveyed along the nerves by this etheric current. The particles of
the etheric part of man' s body are constantly changing, just as are those of
the denser part; along with the food which we eat and the air which we breathe
we take in etheric matter, and this is assimilated by the etheric part of the
body. Etheric matter is constantly being thrown off from the pores, just as is
gaseous matter, so that when two persons are close together each necessarily
absorbs much of the physical emanations of the other.
132.
When one person mesmerises another, the operator by an effort of will
gathers together a great deal of this magnetism and throws it into the subject,
pushing back his victim' s nerve-fluid, and filling its place with his own. As
the brain is the centre of this nervous circulation, this brings that part of
the subject' s body which is affected under the control of the manipulator' s
brain instead of the victim' s, and so the latter feels what the mesmerist
wishes him to feel. If the recipient' s brain be emptied of his own magnetism
and filled with that of the performer, the former can think and act only as the
latter wills that he should think and act; he is for the time entirely
dominated.
133.
Even when the magnetiser is trying to cure, and is pouring strength into
the man, he inevitably gives along with the vitality much of his own emanations.
It is obvious that any disease which the mesmeriser happens to have may readily
he conveyed to the subject in this way; and another even more important
consideration is that, though his health may be perfect from the medical point
of view, there are mental and moral diseases as well as physical, and that, as
astral and mental matter are thrown into the subject by the mesmerist along with
the physical current, these also are frequently transferred.
134.
Vitality, like light and heat, is pouring forth from the sun continually,
but obstacles frequently arise to prevent the full supply from reaching the
earth. In the wintry and melancholy climes miscalled the temperate, it too often
happens that for days together the sky is covered by a funeral pall of heavy
cloud, and this affects vitality just as it does light; it does not altogether
hinder its passage, but sensibly diminishes its amount. Therefore in dull and
dark weather vitality runs low, and over all living creatures there comes an
instinctive yearning for sunlight.
135.
When vitalised atoms are thus more sparsely scattered, the man in rude
health increases his power of absorption, depletes a larger area, and so keeps
his strength at the normal level; but invalids and men of small nerve-force, who
cannot do this, often suffer severely, and find themselves growing weaker and
more irritable without knowing why. For similar reasons vitality is at a lower
ebb in the winter than in the summer, for even if the short winter day be sunny,
which is rare, we have still to face the long and dreary winter night, during
which we must exist upon such vitality as the day has stored in our atmosphere.
On the other hand the long summer day, when bright and cloudless, charges the
atmosphere so thoroughly with vitality that its short night makes but little
difference.
136.
From the study of this question of vitality, the occultist cannot fail to
recognise that, quite apart from temperature, sunlight is one of the most
important factors in the attainment and preservation of perfect health-- a
factor for the absence of which nothing else can entirely compensate. Since this
vitality is poured forth not only upon the physical world but upon all others as
well, it is evident that, when in other respects satisfactory conditions are
present, emotion, intellect and spirituality will be at their best under clear
skies and with the inestimable aid of the sunlight.
137.
All the colours of this order of vitality are etheric, yet it will be
seen that their action presents certain correspondences with the signification
attached to similar hues in the astral body. Clearly right thought and right
feeling react upon the physical body, and increase its power to assimilate the
vitality which is necessary for its well-being. It is reported that the Lord
BUDDHA once said that the first step on the road to Nirvana is perfect physical
health; and assuredly the way to attain that is to follow the Noble Eightfold
Path which He has indicated. “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His
righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you”-- yes, even
physical health as well.
138.
CHAPTER V
139.
BY NATURAL SURROUNDINGS
140.
THE WEATHER
141.
THE vagaries of the weather are proverbial, and though observation and
study of its phenomena enable us to venture upon certain limited predictions,
the ultimate cause of most of the changes still escapes us, and will continue to
do so until we realise that there are considerations to be taken into account
besides the action of heat and cold, of radiation and condensation. The earth
itself is living; this ball of matter is being used as a physical body by a vast
entity-- not an Adept or an angel, not a highly developed being at all, but
rather something which may be imagined as a kind of gigantic nature-spirit, for
whom the existence of our earth is one incarnation. His previous incarnation was
naturally in the moon since that was the fourth planet of the last chain, and
equally naturally his next incarnation will be in the fourth planet of the chain
that will succeed ours when the evolution of our terrestrial chain is completed.
Of his nature or the character of his evolution we can know but little, nor does
it in any way concern us, for we are to him but as tiny microbes or parasites
upon his body, and in all probability he is unaware even of our existence, for
nothing that we can do can be on a scale large enough to affect him.
142.
For him the atmosphere surrounding the earth must be as a kind of aura,
or perhaps rather corresponding to the film of etheric matter which projects
ever so slightly beyond the outline of man' s dense physical body; and just as
any alteration or disturbance in the man affects this film of aether, so must
any change of condition in this spirit of the earth affect the atmosphere. Some
such changes must be periodic and regular, like the motions produced in us by
breathing, by the action of the heart or by an even movement, such as walking;
others must be irregular and occasional, as would be the changes produced in a
man by a sudden start, or by an outburst of emotion.
143.
We know that violent emotion, astral in its origin though it be, produces
chemical changes and variations of temperature in the human physical body;
whatever corresponds to such emotion in the spirit of the earth may well cause
chemical changes in his physical body also, and variations of
temperature in its immediate surroundings. Now variations of temperature in the
atmosphere mean wind; sudden and violent variations mean storm; and chemical
changes beneath the surface of the earth not infrequently cause earthquakes and
volcanic eruptions.
144.
No student of occultism will fall into the common error of regarding as
evil such outbursts as storms or eruptions, because they sometimes destroy human
life; for he will recognise that, whatever the immediate cause may be, all that
happens is part of the working of the great immutable law of justice, and that
He who doeth all things most certainly doeth all things well. This aspect of
natural phenomena, however, will be considered in a later chapter.
145.
It cannot be questioned that men are much and variously affected by the
weather. There is a general consensus of opinion that gloomy weather is
depressing; but this is mainly due to the fact that in the absence of sunlight
there is, as has already been explained, a lack of vitality. Some people,
however, take an actual delight in rain or snow or high wind. There is in these
disturbances something which produces a distinct pleasurable sensation which
quickens their vibrations and harmonises with the key-note of their nature. It
is probable that this is not entirely or even chiefly due to the physical
disturbance; it is rather that the subtle change in the aura of the spirit of
the earth (which produces or coincides with this phenomenon) is one with which
their spirits are in sympathy. A still more decided instance of this is the
effect of a thunder-storm. There are many people in whom it produces a curious
sense of overwhelming fear entirely out of proportion to any physical danger
that it can be supposed to bring. In others, on the contrary, the electrical
storm produces wild exultation. The influence of electricity on the physical
nerves no doubt plays a part in producing these unusual sensations, but their
true cause lies deeper than that.
146.
The effect produced upon people by these various manifestations depends
upon the preponderance in their temperament of certain types of elemental
essence which, because of this sympathetic vibration, used to be called by
mediaeval enquirers earthy, watery, airy or fiery. Exactly in the same way the
effect of the various sections of our surroundings will be greater or less upon
men according as they have more or less of one or other of these constituents in
their composition. To the man who responds most readily to earth influences, the
nature of the soil upon which his house is built is of primary importance, but
it matters comparatively little to him whether it is or is not in the
neighbourhood of water; whereas the man who responds most readily to the
radiations of water would care little about the soil so long as he had the ocean
or a lake within sight and within easy reach.
147.
ROCKS
148.
Influence is perpetually radiated upon us by all objects of nature, even
by the very earth upon which we tread. Each type of rock or soil has its own
special variety, and the differences between them are great, so that their
effect is by no means to be neglected. In the production of this effect three
factors bear their part-- the life of the rock itself, the kind of elemental
essence appropriate to its astral counterpart, and the kind of nature-spirits
which it attracts. The life of the rock is simply the life of the Second Great
Outpouring which has arrived at the stage of ensouling the mineral kingdom, and
the elemental essence is a later wave of that same divine Life which is one
chain-period behind the other, and has yet in its descent into matter reached
only the astral world. The nature-spirit belong to a different evolution
altogether, to which we shall refer in due course.
149.
The point for us to bear in mind for the moment is that each kind of
soil-- granite or sandstone, chalk, clay or lava, has its definite influence
upon those who live on it-- an influence which never ceases. Night and day,
summer and winter, year in and year out, this steady pressure is being
exercised, and it has its part in the moulding of races and districts, types as
well as individuals. All these matters are as yet but little comprehended by
ordinary science, but there can be no doubt that in time to come these effects
will be thoroughly studied, and the doctors of the future will take them into
account, and prescribe a change of soil as well as of air for their patients.
150.
An entirely new and distinct set of agencies is brought into play
wherever water exists, whether it be in the form of lake, river or sea--
powerful in different ways in all of them truly, but most powerful and
observable in the last. Here also the same three factors have to be considered--
the life of the water itself, the elemental essence pervading it, and the type
of nature-spirits associated with it.
151.
TREES
152.
Strong influences are radiated by the vegetable kingdom also, and the
different kinds of plants and trees vary greatly in their effect. Those who have
not specially studied the subject invariably under-rate the strength, capacity
and intelligence shown in vegetable life. I have already written upon this in
The Christian Creed, p. 51 (2nd edition), so I will not repeat myself
here, but will rather draw attention to the fact that trees-- especially old
trees-- have a strong and definite individuality, well worthy the name of a
soul. This soul, though temporary, in the sense that it is not yet a
reincarnating entity, is nevertheless possessed of considerable power and
intelligence along its own lines.
153.
It has decided likes and dislikes, and to clairvoyant sight it shows
quite clearly by a vivid rosy flush an emphatic enjoyment of the sunlight and
the rain, and distinct pleasure also in the presence of those whom it has learnt
to like, or with whom it has sympathetic vibrations. Emerson appears to have
realised this, for he is quoted in Hutton' s Reminiscences as saying of
his trees: “I am sure they miss me; they seem to droop when I go away, and I
know they brighten and bloom when I go back to them and shake hands with their
lower branches.”
154.
An old forest tree is a high development of vegetable life, and when it
is transferred from that kingdom it does not pass into the lowest form of animal
life. In some cases its individuality is even sufficiently distinct to allow it
to manifest itself temporarily outside its physical form, and when that is so it
often takes the human shape. Matters may be otherwise arranged in other solar
systems for aught we know, but in ours the Deity has chosen the human form to
enshrine the highest intelligence, to be carried on to the utmost perfection as
His scheme develops: and because that is so, there is always a tendency among
lower kinds of life to reach upwards towards that form, and in their primitive
way to imagine themselves as possessing it.
155.
Thus it happens that such creatures as gnomes or elves, whose bodies are
of fluidic nature, of astral or etheric matter which is plastic under the
influence of the will, habitually adopts some approximation to the appearance of
humanity. Thus also when it is possible for the soul of a tree to externalise
itself and become visible, it is almost always in human shape that it is seen.
Doubtless these were the dryads of classical times; and the occasional
appearance of such figures may account for the widely-spread custom of
tree-worship. Omne ignotum pro magnifico; and if primitive man saw a
huge, grave human form come forth from a tree, he was likely enough in his
ignorance to set up an altar there and worship it, not in the least
understanding that he himself stood far higher in evolution than it did, and
that its very assumption of his image was an acknowledgment of that fact.
156.
The occult side of the instinct of a plant is also exceedingly
interesting; its one great object, like that of some human beings, is always to
found a family and reproduce its species; and it has certainly a feeling of
active enjoyment in its success, in the colour and beauty of its flowers and in
their efficiency in attracting bees and other insects. Unquestionably plants
feel admiration lavished upon them and delight in it; they are sensitive to
human affection and they return it in their own way.
157.
When all this is borne in mind, it will readily be understood that trees
exercise much more influence over human beings than is commonly supposed, and
that he who sets himself to cultivate sympathetic and friendly relations with
all his neighbours, vegetable as well as animal and human, may both
receive and give a great deal of which the average man knows nothing, and may
thus make his life fuller, wider, more complete.
158.
THE SEVEN TYPES
159.
The classification of the vegetable kingdom adopted by the occultist
follows the line of the seven great types mentioned in our previous chapter on
planetary influences, and each of these is divided into seven sub-types. If we
imagine ourselves trying to tabulate the vegetable kingdom, these divisions
would naturally be perpendicular, nor horizontal. We should not have trees as
one type, shrubs as another, ferns as a third, grasses or mosses as a fourth;
rather we should find trees, shrubs, ferns, grasses, mosses of each of the seven
types, so that along each line all the steps of the ascending scale are
represented.
160.
One might phrase it that when the Second Outpouring is ready to descend,
seven great channels, each with its seven subdivisions, lie open for its choice;
but the channel through which it passes gives it a certain colouring-- a set of
temperamental characteristics-- which it never wholly loses, so that although in
order to express itself it needs matter belonging to all the different types, it
has always a preponderance of its own type, and always recognisably belongs to
that type and no other, until after its evolution is over it returns as a
glorified spiritual power to the Deity from whom it originally emerged as a mere
undeveloped potentiality.
161.
The vegetable kingdom is only one stage in this stupendous course, yet
these different types are distinguishable in it, just as they are among animals
or human beings, and each has its own special influence, which may be soothing
or helpful to one man, distressing or irritating to another, and inert in the
case of a third, according to his type and to his condition at the
time. Training and practice are necessary to enable the student to assign the
various plants and trees to their proper classes, but the distinction between
the magnetism radiated by the oak and the pine, the palm tree and the banyan,
the olive and the eucalyptus, the rose and the lily, the violet and the
sunflower, cannot fail to be obvious to any sensitive person. Wide as the poles
asunder is the dissimilarity between the ` feeling' of an English forest and a
tropical jungle, or the bush of Australia or New Zealand.
162.
ANIMALS
163.
For thousand of years man has lived so cruelly that all wild creatures
fear and avoid him, so the influence upon him of the animal kingdom is
practically confined to that of the domestic animals. In our relations with
these our influence over them is naturally far more potent than theirs over us,
yet this latter is by no means to be ignored. A man who has really made friends
with an animal is often much helped and strengthened by the affection lavished
upon him. Being more advanced, a man is naturally capable of greater love than
an animal is; but the animal' s affection is usually more concentrated, and he
is far more likely to throw the whole of his energy into it than a man is.
164.
The very fact of the man' s higher development gives him a multiplicity
of interests, among which his attention is divided; the animal often pours the
entire strength of his nature into one channel, and so produces a most powerful
effect. The man has a hundred other matters to think about, and the current of
his love consequently cannot but be variable; when the dog or the cat develops a
really great affection it fills the whole of his life, and he therefore keeps a
steady stream of force always playing upon its object-- a factor whose value is
by no means to be ignored.
165.
Similarly the man who is so wicked as to provoke by cruelty the hatred
and fear of domestic animals becomes by a righteous retribution the centre of
converging forces of antipathy; for such conduct arouses deep indignation among
nature-spirits and other astral and etheric entities, as well as among all
right-minded men, whether living or dead.
166.
HUMAN BEINGS
167.
Since it is emphatically true that no man can afford to be disliked or
feared by his cat or dog, it is clear that the same consideration applies with
still greater force to the human beings who surround him. It is not easy to
overestimate the importance to a man of winning the kindly regard of those with
whom he is in constant association-- to overrate the value to a schoolmaster of
the attitude towards him of his pupils, to a merchant of the feeling of his
clerks, to an officer of the devotion of his men; and this entirely apart from
the obvious effects produced in the physical world. If a man holding any such
position as one of these is able to arouse the enthusiastic affection of his
subordinates, he becomes the focus upon which many streams of such forces are
constantly converging. Not only does this greatly uplift and strengthen him, but
it also enables him, if he understands something of the working of occult laws,
to be of far greater use to those who feel the affection, and to do much more
with them than would otherwise be possible.
168.
To obtain this result it is not in the least necessary that they should
agree with him in opinion; with the particular effect with which we are at
present concerned their mental attitude has no connection whatever; it is a
matter of strong, kindly feeling. If the feeling should unfortunately be of an
opposite kind-- if the man is feared or despised-- currents of antipathy are
perpetually flowing towards him, which cause weakness and discord in the
vibrations of his higher vehicles, and also cut him off from the possibility of
doing satisfactory and fruitful work with those under his charge.
169.
It is not only the force of the feeling sent out by the person; like
attracts like in the astral world as well as the physical. There are always
masses of vague thought floating about in the atmosphere, some of them good and
some evil, but all alike ready to reinforce any decided thought of their own
type. Also there are nature-spirits of low order, which enjoy the coarse
vibrations of anger and hatred, and are therefore very willing to throw
themselves into any current of such nature. By doing so they intensify the
undulations, and add fresh life to them. All this tends to strengthen the effect
produced by the converging streams of unfavourable thought and feeling.
170.
It has been said that a man is known by the company he keeps. It is also
to a large extent true that he is made by it, for those with whom he
constantly associates are all the while unconsciously influencing him and
bringing him by degrees more and more into harmony with such undulations as they
radiate. He who is much in the presence of a large-minded and unworldly man has
a fine opportunity of himself becoming large-minded and unworldly, for a steady
though imperceptible pressure in that direction is perpetually being exerted
upon him, so that it is easier for him to grow in that way than in any other.
For the same reason a man who spends his time loafing in a public-house with the
idle and various is exceedingly likely to end by becoming idle and vicious
himself. The study of the hidden side of things emphatically endorses the old
proverb that evil communications corrupt good manners.
171.
This fact of the enormous influence of close association with a more
advanced personality is well understood in the East, where it is recognised that
the most important and effective part of the training of a disciple is that he
shall live constantly in the presence of his teacher and bathe in his aura. The
various vehicles of the teacher are all vibrating with a steady and powerful
swing at rates both higher and more regular than any which the pupil can yet
maintain, though he may sometimes reach them for a few moments; but the constant
pressure of the stronger thought-waves of the teacher gradually raises those of
the pupil into the same key. A person who has as yet but little musical ear
finds it difficult to sing correct intervals alone, but if he joins with another
stronger voice which is already perfectly trained, his task becomes easier--
which may serve as a kind of rough analogy.
172.
The great point is that the dominant note of the teacher is always
sounding, so that its action is affecting the pupil night and day without need
of any special thought on the part of either of them. Growth and change must of
course be ceaselessly taking place in the vehicles of the pupil, as in those of
all other men; but the powerful undulations emanating from the teacher render it
easy for this growth to take place in the right direction, and exceedingly
difficult for it to go any other way, somewhat as the splints which surround a
broken limb ensure that its growth shall be only in the right line, so as to
avoid distortion.
173.
No ordinary man, acting automatically and without intention, will be able
to exercise even a hundredth part of the carefully-directed influence of a
spiritual teacher; but numbers may to some extent compensate for lack of
individual power, so that the ceaseless though unnoticed pressure exercised upon
us by the opinions and feelings of our associates leads us frequently to absorb
without knowing it many of their prejudices. It is distinctly undesirable that a
man should remain always among one set of people and hear only one set of views.
It is eminently necessary that he should know something of other sets, for only
in that way can he learn to see good in all; only thoroughly understanding both
sides of any case can he form an opinion that has any right to be called a real
judgment. The prejudiced person is always and necessarily an ignorant person;
and the only way in which his ignorance can be dispelled is by getting outside
his own narrow little circle, and learning to look at things for himself and see
what they really are-- not what those who know nothing about them suppose them
to be.
174.
TRAVEL
175.
The extent to which our human surroundings influence us is only realised
when we change them for awhile, and the most effective method of doing this is
to travel in a foreign country. But true travel is not to rush from one gigantic
caravanserai to another, consorting all the time with one' s own countrymen, and
grumbling at every custom which differs from those of our particular Little
Pedlington. It is rather to live for a time quietly in some foreign land, trying
to get really to know its people and to understand them; to study a custom and
see why it has arisen, and what good there is in it, instead of condemning it
off-hand because it is not our own. The man who does this will soon come to
recognise the characteristic traits of the various races -- to comprehend such
fundamental diversities as those between the English and the Irish, the Hindu
and the American, the Breton and the Sicilian, and yet to realise that they are
to be looked upon not as one better than another, but as the different
colours that go to make up the rainbow, the different movements that are all
necessary, as parts of the great oratorio of life.
176.
Each has its part to play in affording opportunity for the evolution of
egos who need just its influence, who are lacking in just its characteristics.
Each race has behind it a mighty angel, the Spirit of the Race, who under the
direction of the Manu preserves its special qualities and guides it along the
line destined for it. A new race is born when in the scheme of evolution a new
type a temperament is needed; a race dies out when all the egos who can be
benefited by it have passed through it. The influence of the Spirit of a Race
thoroughly permeates the country or district over which his supervision extends,
and is naturally a factor of the greatest importance to any visitor who is in
the least sensitive.
177.
The ordinary tourist is too often imprisoned in the triple armour of
aggressive race-prejudice; he is so full of conceit over the supposed
excellencies of his own nation that he is incapable of seeing good in any other.
The wiser traveller, who is willing to open his heart to the action of higher
forces, may receive from this source much that is valuable, both of instruction
and experience. But in order to do that, he must begin by putting himself in the
right attitude; he must be ready to listen rather then to talk, to learn rather
than to boast, to appreciate rather than to criticise, to try to understand
rather than rashly to condemn.
178.
To achieve such a result is the true object of travel, and we have a far
better opportunity for this than was afforded to our forefathers. Methods of
communication are so much improved that it is now possible for almost anyone to
achieve quickly and cheaply journeys that would have been entirely impossible a
century ago, except for the rich and leisured class. Along with these
possibilities of intercommunication has come the wide dissemination of foreign
news by means of the telegraph and the newspaper press, so that even those who
do not actually leave their own country still know much more about others than
was ever possible before. Without all these facilities there never could have
been a Theosophical Society, or at least it could not have had its present
character, nor could it have reached its present level of effectiveness.
179.
The first object of the Theosophical Society is the promotion of
universal brotherhood, and nothing helps so much to induce brotherly feeling
between nations as full and constant intercourse with one another. When people
know one another only by hearsay, all sorts of absurd prejudices grow up, but
when they come to know one another intimately, each finds that the other is
after all a human being much like himself, with the same interests and objects,
the same joys and sorrows.
180.
In the old days each nation lived to a large extent in a condition of
selfish isolation, and if trouble of some sort fell upon one, it had usually no
resources but its own upon which it could depend. Now the whole world is so
closely drawn together that if there is a famine in India help is sent from
America; if an earthquake devastates one of the countries of Europe,
subscriptions for the sufferers pour in at once from all the others. However far
away as yet may be the perfect realisation of universal brotherhood, it is clear
that we are at least drawing nearer to it; we have not yet learnt entirely to
trust one another, but at least we are ready to help one another, and that is
already a long step upon the roads towards becoming really one family.
181.
We know how often travel is recommended as a cure for many physical ills,
especially for those which manifest themselves through the various forms of
nervous derangement. Most of us find it to be fatiguing, yet also undeniably
exhilarating, though we do not always realise that this is not only because of
the change of air and of the ordinary physical impressions, but also because of
the change of the etheric and astral influences which are connected with each
place and district.
182.
Ocean, mountain, forest or waterfall-- each has its own special type of
life, astral and etheric as well as visible; and, therefore, its own special set
of impressions and influences. Many of these unseen entities are pouring out
vitality, and in any case, the vibrations which they radiate awaken unaccustomed
portions of our etheric double, and of our astral and mental bodies, and the
effect is like the exercise of muscles which are not ordinarily called into
activity-- somewhat tiring at the time, yet distinctly healthy and desirable in
the long run.
183.
The town-dweller is accustomed to his surroundings, and usually does not
realise the horror of them until he leaves them for a time.
To dwell beside a busy main street is from the astral point of view
like living on the brink of an open sewer-- a river of fetid mud which is always
throwing up splashes and noisome odours as it rolls along. No man, however
unimpressionable, can endure this indefinitely without deterioration, and an
occasional change into the country is a necessity on the ground of moral as well
as physical health. In travelling from the town into the country, too, we leave
behind us to a great extent the stormy sea of warring human passion and labour,
and such human thoughts as still remain to act upon us are usually of the less
selfish and more elevated kind.
184.
In the presence of one of nature' s great wonders, such as the Falls of
Niagara, almost everyone is for the time drawn out of himself, and out of the
petty round of daily care and selfish desire, so that his thought is nobler and
broader, and the thought-forms which he leaves behind him are correspondingly
less disturbing and more helpful. These considerations once more make it evident
that in order to obtain the full benefit of travel a man must pay attention to
nature and allow it to act upon him. If he is wrapped up all the while in
selfish and gloomy thoughts, crushed by financial trouble, or brooding over his
own sickness and weakness, little benefit can be derived from the healing
influences.
185.
Another point is that certain places are permeated by certain special
types of thought. The consideration of this matter belongs rather to another
chapter, but we may introduce it so far as to mention that the frame of mind in
which people habitually visit a certain place reacts strongly upon all the other
visitors to it. Popular seaside resorts in England have about them an air of
buoyancy and irresponsibility, a determined feeling of holiday life, of
temporary freedom from business and of the resolution to make the most of it,
from the influence of which it is difficult to escape. Thus the jaded and
overworked man who spends his well-earned holiday in such a place, obtains quite
a different result from that which would follow if he simply stayed quietly at
home. To sit at home would probably be less fatiguing, but also much less
stimulating.
186.
To take a country walk is to travel in miniature, and in order to
appreciate its healthful effect we must bear in mind what has been said of all
the different vibrations issuing from various kinds of trees or plants, and even
from different kinds of soil or rock. All these act as kind of massage upon the
etheric, astral and mental bodies, and tend to relieve the strain which the
worries of our common life persistently exert upon certain parts of these
vehicles.
187.
Glimpses of the truth on these points may sometimes be caught from the
traditions of the peasantry. For example, there is a widely-spread belief that
strength may be gained from sleeping under a pine-tree with the head to the
north. For some cases this is suitable, and the rationale of it is that there
are magnetic currents always flowing over the surface of the earth which are
quite unknown to ordinary men. These by steady, gentle pressure gradually comb
out the entanglements and strengthen the particles both of the astral body and
of the etheric part of the physical, and thus bring them more into harmony and
introduce rest and calm. The part played by the pine-tree is, first, that its
radiations make the man sensitive to those magnetic currents, and bring him into
a state in which it is possible for them to act upon him, and secondly, that (as
has already been explained) it is constantly throwing off vitality in that
special condition in which it is easiest for man to absorb it.
188.
CHAPTER VI
189.
BY NATURE-SPIRITS
190.
AN EVOLUTION APART
191.
ANOTHER factor which exercises great influence under certain restrictions
is the nature-spirit. We may regard the nature-spirits of the land as in a sense
the original inhabitants of the country, driven away from some parts of it by
the invasion of man, much as the wild animals have been. Just like wild animals,
the nature-spirits avoid altogether the great cities and all places where men
most do congregate, so that in those their effect is a negligible quantity. But
in all quiet country places, among the woods and fields, upon the mountains or
out at sea, nature-spirits are constantly present, and though they rarely show
themselves, their influence is powerful and all-pervading, just as the scent of
the violets fills the air though they are hidden modestly among the leaves.
192.
The nature-spirits constitute an evolution apart, quite distinct at this
stage from that of humanity. We are familiar with the course taken by the Second
Outpouring through the three elemental kingdoms, down to the mineral and upward
through the vegetable and animal, to the attainment of individuality at the
human level. We know that, after that individuality has been attained, the
unfolding of humanity carries us gradually to the steps of the Path, and then
onward and upward to Adeptship and to the glorious possibilities which lie
beyond.
193.
This is our line of development, but we must not make the mistake of
thinking of it as the only line. Even in this world of ours the divine life is
pressing upwards through several streams, of which ours is but one, and
numerically by no means the most important. It may help us to realise this if we
remember that while humanity in its physical manifestation occupies only quite a
small part of the surface of the earth, entities at a corresponding level on
other lines of evolution not only crowd the earth far more thickly than man, but
at the same time populate the enormous plains of the sea and the fields of the
air.
194.
LINES OF EVOLUTION
195.
At this present stage we find these streams running parallel to one
another, but for the time quite distinct. The nature-spirits, for example,
neither have been nor ever will be members of a humanity such as ours, yet the
indwelling life of the nature-spirit comes from the same Solar Deity as our own,
and will return to Him just as ours will. The streams may be roughly considered
as flowing side by side as far as the mineral level, but as soon as they turn to
commence the upward arc of evolution, divergence begins to appear. This stage of
immetalisation is naturally that at which life is most deeply immersed in
physical matter but while some of the streams retain physical forms through
several of the further stages of their development, making them, as they
proceed, more and more an expression of the life within , there are
other streams which at once begin to cast off the grosser, and for the rest of
their unfolding in this world use only bodies composed of etheric matter.
196.
One of these streams, for example, after finishing that stage of its
evolvement in which it is part of the mineral monad, instead of passing into the
vegetable kingdom takes for itself vehicles of etheric matter which inhabit the
interior of the earth, living actually within the solid rock. It is difficult
for many students to understand how it is possible for any kind of creature thus
to inhabit the solid substance of the rock or the crust of the earth. Creatures
possessing bodies of etheric matter find the substance of the rock no impediment
to their motion or their vision. Indeed, for them physical matter in its solid
state is their natural element and habitat-- the only one to which they are
accustomed and in which they feel at home. These vague lower lives in amorphous
etheric vehicles are not readily comprehensible to us; but somehow they
gradually evolve to a stage when, though still inhabiting the solid rock, they
live close to the surface of the earth instead of in its depths, and the more
developed of them are able occasionally to detach themselves from it for a short
time.
197.
These creatures have sometimes been seen, and perhaps more frequently
heard, in caves or mines, and they are often described in mediaeval literature
as gnomes. The etheric matter of their bodies is not, under ordinary conditions,
visible to physical eyes, so that when they are seen one of two things must take
place; either they must materialise themselves by drawing round them a veil of
physical matter, or else the spectator must experience an increase of
sensitiveness which enables him to respond to the wave-lengths of the higher
aethers, and to see what is not normally perceptible to him.
198.
The slight temporary exaltation of faculty necessary for this is not very
uncommon nor difficult to achieve, and on the other hand materialisation is easy
for creatures which are only just beyond the bounds of visibility; so that they
would be seen far more frequently than they are, but for the rooted objection to
the proximity of human beings which they share with all but the lowest types of
nature-spirits. The next stage of their advancement brings them into the
subdivision commonly called fairies-- the type of nature-spirits which usually
live upon the surface of the earth as we do, though still using only an etheric
body; and after that they pass on through the air-spirits into the kingdom of
the angels in a way which will be explained later.
199.
The life-wave which is at the mineral level is manifesting itself not
only through the rocks which form the solid crust of the earth, but also through
the waters of the ocean; and just as the former may pass through low etheric
forms of life (at present unknown to man) in the interior of the earth, so the
latter may pass through corresponding low etheric forms which have their
dwelling in the depths of the sea. In this case also the next stage or kingdom
brings us into more definite though still etheric forms inhabiting the middle
depths, and very rarely showing themselves at the surface. The third stage for
them (corresponding to that of the fairies for the rock-spirits) is to join the
enormous host of water-spirits which cover the vast plains of the ocean with
their joyous life.
200.
Taking as they do bodies of etheric matter only, it will be seen that the
entities following these lines of development miss altogether the vegetable and
animal kingdoms as well the human. There are, however, other types of
nature-spirits which enter into both these kingdoms before they begin to
diverge. In the ocean, for example, there is a stream of life which, after
leaving the mineral level, touches the vegetable kingdom in the form of
seaweeds, and then passes on, through the corals and the sponges and the huge
cephalopods of the middle deeps, up into the great family of the fishes, and
only after that joins the ranks of water-spirits.
201.
It will be seen that these retain the dense physical body as a vehicle up
to a much higher level; and in the same way we notice that the fairies of the
land are recruited not only from the ranks of the gnomes, but also from the less
evolved strata of the animal kingdom, for we find a line of development which
just touches the vegetable kingdom in the shape of minute fungoid growths, and
then passes onward through bacteria and animalculae of various kinds, through
the insects and reptiles up to the beautiful family of the birds, and only after
many incarnations among these joins the still more joyous tribe of the fairies.
202.
Yet another stream diverges into etheric life at an intermediate point,
for while it comes up through the vegetable kingdom in the shape of grasses and
cereals, it turns aside thence into the animal kingdom and is conducted through
the curious communities of the ants and bees, and then through a set of etheric
creatures closely corresponding to the latter-- those tiny humming-bird-like
nature-spirits which are so continually seen hovering about flowers and plants,
and play so large a part in the production of their manifold variations-- their
playfulness being often utilised in specialisation and in the helping of growth.
203.
It is necessary, however, to draw a careful distinction here, to avoid
confusion. The little creatures that look after flowers may be divided into two
great classes, though of course there are many varieties of each kind. The first
class may properly be called elementals, for beautiful though they are, they are
in reality only thought-forms, and therefore they are not really living
creatures at all. Perhaps I should rather say that they are only temporarily
living creatures, for though they are very active and busy during their little
lives, they have no real evolving, reincarnating life in them, and when they
have done their work, they just go to pieces and dissolve into the surrounding
atmosphere, precisely as our own thought-forms do. They are the thought-forms of
the Great Beings or angels who are in charge of the evolution of the vegetable
kingdom.
204.
When one of these Great Ones has a new idea connected with one of the
kinds of plants or flowers which are under his charge, he often creates a
thought-form for the special purpose of carrying out that idea. It usually takes
the form either of an etheric model of the flower itself or of a little creature
which hangs round the plant or the flower all through the time that the buds are
forming, and gradually builds them into the shape and colour of which the angel
has thought. But as soon as the
plant has fully grown, or the flower has opened, its work is over and its power
is exhausted, and, as I have said, it just simply dissolves, because the will to
do that piece of work was the only soul that it had.
205.
But there is quite another kind of little creature which is very
frequently seen playing about with flowers, and this time it is a real
nature-spirit. There are many varieties of these also. One of the commonest
forms is, as I have said, something very much like a tiny humming-bird, and it
may often be seen buzzing round the flowers much in the same way as a
humming-bird or a bee does. These beautiful little creatures will never become
human, because they are not in the same line of evolution as we are. The life
which is now animating them has come up through grasses and cereals, such as
wheat and oats, when it was in the vegetable kingdom, and afterwards through
ants and bees when it was in the animal kingdom. Now it has reached the level of
these tiny nature-spirits, and its next stage will be to ensoul some of the
beautiful fairies with etheric bodies who live upon the surface of the earth.
Later on they will become salamanders or fire-spirits, and later still they will
become sylphs, or air-spirits, having only astral bodies instead of etheric.
Later still they will pass through the different stages of the great kingdom of
the angels.
206.
OVERLAPPING
207.
In all cases of the transference of the life-wave from one kingdom to
another great latitude is allowed for variation; there is a good deal of
overlapping between the kingdoms. That is perhaps most clearly to be seen along
our own line of evolution for we find that the life which has attained to the
highest levels in the vegetable kingdom never passes into the lower part of the
animal kingdom at all, but on the contrary joins it at a fairly advanced stage.
Let me recall the example which I have already given; the life which has
ensouled one of our great forest trees could never descend to animate a swarm of
mosquitoes, nor even a family of rats or mice or such small deer; while these
latter would be quite appropriate forms for that part of the life-wave which had
left the vegetable kingdom at the level of the daisy or the dandelion.
208.
The ladder of evolution has to be climbed in all cases, but it seems as
though the higher part of one kingdom lies to a large extent parallel with the
lower part of that above it, so that it is possible for a transfer from one to
the other to take place at different levels in different cases. That stream of
life which enters the human kingdom avoids altogether the lowest stages of the
animal kingdom; that is, the life which is presently to rise into humanity never
manifests itself through the insects or the reptiles; in the past it did
sometimes enter the animal kingdom at the level of the great antediluvian
reptiles, but now it passes directly from the highest forms of the vegetable
life into the mammalia. Similarly, when the most advanced domestic animal
becomes individualised, he does not need to descend into the form of the
absolutely primitive savage for his first human incarnation.
209.
The accompanying diagram shows some of these lines of development in a
convenient tabular form, but it must not be considered as in any way exhaustive,
as there are no doubt other lines which have not yet been observed, and there
are certainly all kinds of variations and possibilities of crossing at different
levels from one line to another; so that all we can do is to give a broad
outline of the scheme.
210.
As will be seen from the diagram, at a later stage all the lines of
evolution converge once more; at least to our dim sight there seems no
distinction of glory among those Lofty Ones, though probably if we knew more we
could make our table more complete. At any rate we know that, much as humanity
lies above the animal kingdom, so beyond and above humanity in its turn lies the
great kingdom of the angels, and that to enter among the angels is one of the
seven possibilities which the Adept finds opening before him. That same kingdom
is also the next stage for the nature-spirit, but we have here another instance
of the overlapping previously mentioned, for the Adept joins that kingdom at a
high level, omitting altogether three of its stages, while the next step of
progress for the highest type of nature-spirit is to become the lowest class of
angel, thus beginning at the bottom of that particular ladder instead of
stepping on to it half-way up.
211.
It is on joining the angel kingdom that the nature-spirit receives the
divine Spark of the Third Outpouring, and thus attains individuality, just as
the animal does when he passes into the human kingdom; and a further point of
similarity is that just as the animal gains individualisation only through
contact with humanity, so the nature-spirit gains it through contact with the
angel-- through becoming attached to him and working in order to please him,
until at last he learns how to do angel' s work himself.
212.
The more advanced nature-spirit is therefore not exactly an etheric or
astral human being, for he is not yet an individual; yet he is much more than an
etheric or astral animal, for his intellectual level is far higher than anything
which we find in the animal kingdom, and is indeed quite equal along many lines
to that of average humanity. On the other hand, some of the earlier varieties
possess but a limited amount of intelligence, and seem to be about on an
equality with the humming-birds or bees or butterflies which they so closely
resemble. As we have seen from our diagram, this one name of nature-spirit
covers a large segment of the arc of evolution, including stages corresponding
to the whole of the vegetable and animal kingdoms, and to humanity up to almost
the present level of our own race.
213.
Some of the lower types are not pleasing to the aesthetic sense; but that
is true also of the lower kinds of reptiles and insects. There are undeveloped
tribes whose tastes are coarse, and naturally their appearance corresponds to
the stage of their evolution. The shapeless masses with huge red gaping mouths,
which live upon the loathsome etheric emanations of blood and decaying flesh,
are horrible both to the sight and to the feeling of any pure-minded person; so
also are the rapacious red-brown crustacean creatures which hover over houses of
ill-fame, and the savage octopus-like monsters which gloat over the orgies of
the drunkard and revel in the fumes of alcohol. But even these harpies are not
evil in themselves, though repulsive to man; and man would never come into
contact with them unless he degraded himself to their level by becoming the
slave of his lower passions.
214.
It is only nature-spirits of these and similar primitive and unpleasant
kinds which voluntarily approach the average man. Others of the same sort, but a
shade less material, enjoy the sensation of bathing in any specially coarse
astral radiations, such as those produced by anger, avarice, cruelty, jealousy
and hatred. People yielding themselves to such feelings can depend upon being
constantly surrounded by these carrion crows of the astral world, who quiver in
their ghastly glee as they jostle one another in eager anticipation of an
outburst of passion, and in their blind, blundering way do whatever they can to
provoke or intensify it. It is difficult to believe that such horrors as these
can belong to the same kingdom as the jocund spirits next to be described.
215.
FAIRIES
216.
The type best known to man is that of the fairies, the spirits who live
normally upon the surface of the earth, though, since their bodies are of
etheric matter, they can pass into the ground at will. Their forms are many and
various, but most frequently human in shape and somewhat diminutive in size,
usually with a grotesque exaggeration of some particular feature or limb.
Etheric matter being plastic and readily moulded by the power of thought, they
are able to assume almost any appearance at will, but they nevertheless have
definite forms of their own, which they wear when they have no special object to
serve by taking any other, and are therefore not exerting their will to produce
a change of shape. They have also colours of their own, marking the difference
between their tribes or species, just as the birds have differences of plumage.
217.
There are an immense number of subdivisions or races among them, and
individuals of these sub-divisions vary in intelligence and disposition
precisely as human beings do. Again like human beings, these divers races
inhabit different countries, or sometimes different districts of the same
country, and the members of one race have a general tendency to keep together,
just as men of one nation do among ourselves. They are on the whole distributed
much as are the other kingdoms of nature; like the birds, from whom some of them
have been evolved, some varieties are peculiar to one country, others are common
in one country and rare elsewhere, while others again are to be found almost
anywhere. Again like the birds, it is broadly true that the most brilliantly
coloured orders are to be found in tropical countries.
218.
NATIONAL TYPES
219.
The predominant types of the different parts of the world are usually
clearly distinguishable and in a sense characteristic; or is it perhaps that
their influence in the slow course of ages has moulded the men and animals and
plants who lived near them, so that it is the nature-spirit who has set the
fashion and the other kingdoms which have unconsciously followed it? For
example, no contrast could well be more marked than that between the vivacious,
rollicking, orange-and-purple or scarlet-and-gold mannikins who dance among the
vineyards of Sicily and the almost wistful grey-and-green creatures who move so
much more sedately amidst the oaks and the furze-covered heaths in Brittany, or
the golden-brown “good people” who haunt the hill-sides of Scotland.
220.
In England the emerald-green variety is probably the commonest, and I
have seen it also in the woods of France and Belgium, in far-away Massachusetts
and on the banks of the Niagara River. The vast plains of the Dakotas are
inhabited by a black-and-white kind which I have not seen elsewhere, and
California rejoices in a lovely white-and-gold species which also appears to be
unique.
221.
In Australia the most frequent type is a very distinctive creature of a
wonderful luminous skyblue colour; but there is a wide diversity between the
etheric inhabitants of New South Wales or Victoria and those of tropical
Northern Queensland. These latter approximate closely to those of the Dutch
Indies. Java seems specially prolific in these graceful creatures, and the kinds
most common there are two distinct types, both monochromatic-- one indigo blue
with faint metallic gleamings, and the other a study in all known shades of
yellow-- quaint, but wonderfully effective and attractive.
222.
A striking local variety is gaudily ringed with alternate bars of green
and yellow, like a football jersey. This ringed type is possibly a race peculiar
to that part of the world, for I saw red and yellow similarly arranged in the
Malay Peninsula, and green and white on the other side of the Straits in
Sumatra. That huge island also rejoices in the possession of a lovely pale
heliotrope tribe which I have seen before only in the hills of Ceylon. Down in
New Zealand their specialty is a deep blue shot with silver, while in the South
Sea Islands one meets with a silvery-white variety which coruscates with all the
colours of the rainbow, like a figure of mother-of-pearl.
223.
In India we find all sorts, from the delicate rose-and-pale-green, or
paleblue-and-primrose of the hill country to the rich medley of gorgeously
gleaming colours, almost barbaric in their intensity and profusion, which is
characteristic of the plains. In some parts of that marvellous country I have
seen the black-and-gold type which is more usually associated with the African
desert, and also a species which resembles a statuette made out of a gleaming
crimson metal, such as was the orichalcum of the Atlanteans.
224.
Somewhat akin to this last is a curious variety which looks as though
cast out of bronze and burnished; it appears to make its home in the immediate
neighbourhood of volcanic disturbances, since the only places in which it has
been seen so far are the slopes of Vesuvius and Etna, the interior of Java, the
Sandwich Islands, the Yellowstone Park in North America, and a certain part of
the North Island of New Zealand. Several indications seem to point to the
conclusion that this is a survival of a primitive type, and represents a sort of
intermediate stage between the gnome and the fairy.
225.
In some cases, districts close together are found to be inhabited by
quite different classes of nature-spirits; for example, as has already been
mentioned, the emerald-green elves are common in Belgium, yet a hundred miles
away in Holland hardly one of them is to be seen, and their place is taken by a
sober-looking dark-purple species.
226.
ON A SACRED MOUNTAIN IN IRELAND
227.
A curious fact is that altitude above the sea-level seems to affect their
distribution, those who belong to the mountains scarcely ever intermingling with
those of the plains. I well remember, when climbing Slieve-namon, one of the
traditionally sacred hills of Ireland, noticing the very definite lines of
demarcation between the different types. The lower slopes, like the surrounding
plains, were alive with the intensely active and mischievous little
red-and-black race which swarms all over the south and west of Ireland, being
especially attracted to the magnetic centres established nearly two thousand
years ago by the magic-working priests of the old Milesian race to ensure and
perpetuate their domination over the people by keeping them under the influence
of the great illusion. After half-an-hour' s climbing, however, not one of these
red-and-black gentry was to be seen, but instead the hillside was populous with
the gentler blue-and-brown type which long ago owed special allegiance to the
Tuatha-de-Danaan.
228.
These also had their zone and their well-defined limits, and no
nature-spirit of either type ever ventured to trespass upon the space round the
summit, sacred to the great green angels who have watched there for more than
two thousand years, guarding one of the centres of living force that link the
past to the future of that mystic land of Erin. Taller far than the height of
man, these giant forms, in colour like the first new leaves of spring, soft,
luminous, shimmering, indescribable, look forth over the world with wondrous
eyes that shine like stars, full of the peace of those who live in the eternal,
waiting with the calm certainty of knowledge until the appointed time shall
come. One realises very fully the power and importance of the hidden side of
things when one beholds such a spectacle as that.
229.
But indeed it is scarcely hidden, for the different influences are so
strong and so distinct that anyone in the least sensitive cannot but be aware of
them, and there is good reason for the local tradition that he who spends a
night upon the summit of the mountain shall awaken in the morning either a poet
or a madman. A poet, if he has proved capable of response to the exaltation of
the whole being produced by the tremendous magnetism which has played upon him
while he slept; a madman, if he was not strong enough to bear the strain.
230.
FAIRY LIFE AND DEATH
231.
The life-periods of the different subdivisions of nature-spirits vary
greatly, some being quite short, others much longer than our human lifetime. The
universal principle of reincarnation obtains in their existence also, though the
conditions naturally make its working slightly different. They have no phenomena
corresponding to what we mean by birth and growth; a fairy appears in his world
full-sized, as an insect does. He lives his life, short or long, without any
appearance of fatigue or need of rest, and without any perceptible signs of age
as the years pass.
232.
But at last there comes a time when his energy seems to have exhausted
itself, when he becomes somewhat tired of life; and when that happens his body
grows more and more diaphanous until he is left as an astral entity, to live for
a time in that world among the air-spirits who represent the next stage of
development for him. Through that astral life he fades back into his group-soul,
in which he may have (if sufficiently advanced) a certain amount of conscious
existence before the cyclic law acts upon the group-soul once more by arousing
in it the desire for separation. When this happens, its pressure turns the
stream of its energy outward once more, and that desire, acting upon the plastic
astral and etheric matter, materialises a body of similar type, such as is
suitable to be an expression of the development attained in that last life.
233.
Birth and death, therefore, are much simpler for the nature-spirit than
for us, and death is for him quite free from all thought of sorrow. Indeed, his
whole life seems simpler-- a joyous, irresponsible kind of existence, much such
as a party of happy children might lead among exceptionally favorable physical
surroundings. There is no sex among nature-spirits, there is no disease, and
there is no struggle for existence, so that they are exempt from the most
fertile causes of human suffering. They have keen affections and are capable of
forming close and lasting friendships, from which they derive profound and
never-failing joy. Jealousy and anger are possible to them, but seem quickly to
fade before the overwhelming delight in all the operations of nature which is
their most prominent characteristic.
234.
THEIR PLEASURES
235.
They glory in the light and glow of the sunshine, but they dance with
equal pleasure in the moonlight; they share and rejoice in the satisfaction of
the thirsty earth and the flowers and the trees when they feel the level lances
of the rain, but they play just as happily with the falling flakes of snow; they
are content to float idly in the calm of a summer afternoon, yet they revel in
the rushing of the wind. Not only do they admire, with an intensity that few of
us can understand, the beauty of a flower or a tree, the delicacy of its colour
or the grace of its form, but they take ardent interest and deep delight in all
the processes of nature, in the flowing of sap, in the opening of buds, in the
formation and falling of leaves. Naturally this characteristic is utilised by
the Great Ones in charge of evolution, and nature-spirits are employed to assist
in the blending of colours and the arrangement of variations. They pay much
attention, too, to bird and insect life, to the hatching of the egg and to the
opening of the chrysalis, and they watch with jocund eye the play of lambs and
fawns, of leverets and squirrels.
236.
Another inestimable advantage that an etheric evolution possesses over
one which touches the denser physical is that the necessity of eating is
avoided. The body of the fairy absorbs such nourishment as it needs, without
trouble and without stint, from the aether which of necessity always surrounds
it; or rather, it is not, strictly speaking, that nourishment is absorbed, but
rather that a change of particles is constantly taking place, those which have
been drained of their vitality being cast out and others which are full of it
being drawn in to replace them.
237.
Though they do not eat, nature-spirits obtain from the fragrance of
flowers a pleasure analogous to that which men derive from the taste of food.
The aroma is more to them than a mere question of smell or taste, for they bathe
themselves in it so that it interpenetrates their bodies and reaches every
particle simultaneously.
238.
What takes for them the place of a nervous system is far more delicate
than ours, and sensitive to many vibrations which pass all unperceived by our
grosser senses, and so they find what corresponds to a scent in many plants and
minerals that have no scent for us.
239.
Their bodies have no more internal structure than a wreath of mist, so
that they cannot be torn asunder or injured, and neither heat nor cold has any
painful effect upon them. Indeed, there is one type whose members seem to enjoy
above all things to bathe themselves in fire; they rush from all sides to any
great conflagration and fly upward with the flames again and again in wild
delight, just as a boy flies again and again down a toboggan-slide. These are
the spirits of the fire, the salamanders of mediaeval literature. Bodily pain
can come to the nature-spirit only from an unpleasant or inharmonious emanation
or vibration, but his power of rapid locomotion enables him easily to avoid
these. So far as can be observed he is entirely free from the curse of fear,
which plays so serious a part in the animal life which, along our line of
evolution, corresponds to the level of the fairies.
240.
THE ROMANCES OF FAIRYLAND
241.
The fairy has an enviably fertile imagination, and it is a great part of
his daily play with his fellows to construct for them by its means all kinds of
impossible surroundings and romantic situations. He is like a child telling
stories to his playmates, but with this advantage over the child that, since the
playmates can see both etheric and lower astral matter, the forms built by his
vivid thought are plainly visible to them as his tale proceeds.
242.
No doubt many of his narrations would to us seem childish and oddly
limited in scope, because such intelligence as the elf possesses works in
directions so different from our own, but to him they are intensely real and a
source of never-ending delight. The fairy who develops unusual talent in fiction
wins great affection and honour from the rest, and gathers round him a permanent
audience or following. When some human being chances to catch a glimpse of such
a group, he usually imports into his account of it preconceptions derived from
his own conditions, and takes the leader for a fairy king or queen, according to
the form which that leader may for the moment happen to prefer. In reality the
realm of nature-spirits needs no kind of government except the general
supervision which is exercised over it, probably unconsciously to all but its
higher members, by the Devarajas and their subordinates.
243.
THEIR ATTITUDE TOWARDS MAN
244.
Most nature-spirits dislike and avoid mankind, and we cannot wonder at
it. To them man appears a ravaging demon, destroying and spoiling wherever he
goes. He wantonly kills, often with awful tortures, all the beautiful creatures
that they love to watch; he cuts down the trees, he tramples the grass, he
plucks the flowers and casts them carelessly aside to die; he replaces all the
lovely wild life of nature with his hideous bricks and mortar, and the fragrance
of the flowers with the mephitic vapours of his chemicals and the all-polluting
smoke of his factories. Can we think it strange that the fairies should regard
us with horror, and shrink away from us as we shrink from a poisonous reptile?
245.
Not only do we thus bring devastation to all that they hold most dear,
but most of our habits and emanations are distasteful to them; we poison the
sweet air for them (some of us) with loathsome fumes of alcohol and tobacco; our
restless, ill-regulated desires and passions set up a constant rush of astral
currents which disturbs and annoys them, and gives them the same feeling of
disgust which we should have if a bucket of filthy water were emptied over us.
For them to be near the average man is to live in a perpetual hurricane-- a
hurricane that has blown over a cesspool. They are not great angels, with the
perfect knowledge that brings perfect patience; they are just happy and on the
whole well-disposed children-- hardly even that, many of them, but more like
exceptionally intelligent kittens; again, I say, can we wonder, when we thus
habitually outrage their best and highest feelings, that they should dislike us,
distrust us and avoid us?
246.
There are instances on record where, by some more than ordinarily
unwarranted intrusion or annoyance on the part of man, they have been provoked
into direct retaliation and have shown distinct malice. It speaks well for their
kingdom as a whole that even under such unendurable provocation such cases are
rare, and their more usual method of trying to repel an intruder is by playing
tricks upon him, childish and mischievous often, but not seriously harmful. They
take an impish delight in misleading or deceiving him, in causing him to lose
his way across a moor, in keeping him walking round and round in a circle all
night when he believes he is going straight on, or in making him think that he
sees palaces and castles where no such structures really exist. Many a story
illustrative of this curious characteristic of the fairies may be found among
the village gossip of the peasantry in almost any lonely mountainous district.
247.
GLAMOUR
248.
They are greatly assisted in their tricks by the wonderful power which
they possess of casting a glamour over those who yield themselves to their
influence, so that such victims for the time see and hear only what these
fairies impress upon them, exactly as the mesmerised subject sees, hears, feels
and believes whatever the magnetiser wishes. The nature-spirits, however, have
not the mesmerist' s power of dominating the human will, except in the case of
quite unusually weak-minded people, or of those who allow themselves to fall
into such a condition of helpless terror that their will is temporarily in
abeyance.
249.
The fairies cannot go beyond deception of the senses, but of that they
are undoubted masters, and cases are not wanting in which they cast their
glamour over a considerable number of people at once. It is by invoking their
aid in the exercise of this peculiar power that some of the most marvellous
feats of the Indian jugglers are performed, such as the celebrated basket trick,
or that other in which a rope is thrown up towards the sky and remains rigid
without support while the juggler climbs up it and disappears. The entire
audience is in fact hallucinated, and the people are made to imagine that they
see and hear a whole series of events which have not really occurred at all.
250.
The power of glamour is simply that of making a clear, strong mental
image, and then projecting that into the mind of another. To most men this would
seem wellnigh impossible, because they have never made any such attempt in their
lives, and have no notion how to set about it. The mind of the fairy has not the
width or the range of the man' s, but it is thoroughly well accustomed to this
work of making images and impressing them on others, since it is one of the
principal occupations of the creature' s daily life.
251.
It is not remarkable that with such constant practice he should become
expert at the business, and it is still further simplified for him when, as in
the case of the Indian tricks, exactly the same image has to be produced over
and over again hundreds of times, until every detail shapes itself without
effort as the result of unconscious habit. In trying to understand exactly how
this is done, we must bear in mind that a mental image is a very real thing-- a
definite construction in mental matter, as has been explained in
Thought-Forms (p. 37); and we must also remember that the line of
communication between the mind and the dense physical brain passes through the
astral and etheric counterparts of that brain, and that the line may be tapped
and an impression introduced at any of these points.
252.
Certain of the nature-spirits not infrequently exercise their talent for
mimicry and mischief by appearing at spiritualistic séances held for physical
phenomena. Anyone who has been in the habit of attending on such occasions will
recollect instances of practical joking and silly though usually good-natured
horse-play; these almost always indicate the presence of some of these impish
creatures, though they are sometimes due to the arrival of dead men who were
senseless enough during earth-life to consider such inanities amusing, and have
not learnt wisdom since their death.
253.
INSTANCES OF FRIENDSHIP
254.
On the other hand there are instances in which some nature-spirits have
made friends with individual human beings and offered them such assistance as
lay in their power, as in the well known stories told of Scotch brownies or of
the fire-lighting fairies of spiritualistic literature; and it is on record that
on rare occasions certain favoured men have been admitted to witness elfin
revels and share for a time the elfin life. It is said that wild animals will
approach with confidence some Indian yogis, recognising them as friends to all
living creatures; similarly elves will gather round one who has entered upon the
Path of Holiness, finding his emanations less stormy and more agreeable than
those of the man whose mind is still fixed upon worldly matters.
255.
Occasionally fairies have been known to attach themselves to little
children, and develop a strong attachment for them, especially for such as are
dreamy and imaginative, since they are able to see and delight in the
thought-forms with which such a child surrounds himself. There have even been
cases in which such creatures took a fancy to some unusually attractive baby,
and made an attempt to carry it away into their own haunts-- their intention
being to save it from what seems to them the horrible fate of growing up into
the average human being! Vague traditions of such attempts account for part of
the folk-lore stories about changelings, though there is also another reason for
them to which we shall refer later.
256.
There have been times-- more often in the past than in the present-- when
a certain class of these entities, roughly corresponding to humanity in size and
appearance, made it a practice frequently to materialise, to make for themselves
temporary but definite physical bodies, and by that means to enter into
undesirable relations with such men and women as chose to put themselves in
their way. From this fact, perhaps, come some of the stories of fauns and satyrs
in the classical period; though those sometimes also refer to quite a different
sub-human evolution.
257.
WATER-SPIRITS
258.
Abundant as are the fairies of the earth' s surface almost anywhere away
from the haunts of man, they are far outnumbered by the water-spirits-- the
fairies of the surface of the sea. There is just as much variety here as on
land. The nature-spirits of the Pacific differ from those of the Atlantic, and
those of the Mediterranean are quite distinct from either; the types that revel
in the indescribably glorious blue of tropical oceans are far apart from those
that dash through the foam of our cold grey northern seas. Dissimilar again are
the spirits of the lake, the river and the waterfall, for they have many more
points in common with the land fairies than have the nereids of the open sea.
259.
These, like their brothers of the land, are of all shapes, but perhaps
most frequently imitate the human. Broadly speaking, they tend to take larger
forms than the elves of the woods and the hills; the majority of the latter are
diminutive, while the sea-spirit who copies man usually adopts his size as well
as his shape. In order to avoid misunderstanding it is necessary constantly to
insist upon the protean character of all these forms; any of these creatures,
whether of land or sea or air, can make himself temporarily larger or smaller at
will, or can assume whatever shape he chooses.
260.
There is theoretically no restriction upon this power, but in practice it
has its limits, though they are wide. A fairy who is naturally twelve inches in
height can expand himself to the proportions of a man of six feet, but the
effort would be a considerable strain, and could not be maintained for more than
a few minutes. In order to take a form other than his own he must be able to
conceive it clearly, and he can hold the shape only while his mind is fixed upon
it; as soon as his thought wanders he will at once begin to resume his natural
appearance.
261.
Though etheric matter can readily be moulded by the power of thought, it
naturally does not obey it as instantaneously as does astral matter; we might
say that mental matter changes actually with the thought, and astral
matter so quickly after it that the ordinary observer can scarcely note any
difference; but with etheric matter one' s vision can follow the growth or
diminution without difficulty. A sylph, whose body is of astral matter,
flashes from one shape into another; a fairy, who is etheric, swells or
decreases quickly but not instantaneously.
262.
Few of the land-spirits are gigantic in size, while such stature seems
quite common out at sea. The creatures of the land frequently weave from their
fancies scraps of human clothing, and show themselves with quaint caps or
baldrics or jerkins; but I have never seen any such appearance among the
inhabitants of the sea. Nearly all these surface water-spirits seem to possess
the power of raising themselves out of their proper element and floating in or
flying through the air for a short distance; they delight in playing amidst the
dashing foam or riding in upon the breakers. They are less pronounced in their
avoidance of man than their brethren on land-- perhaps because man has so much
less opportunity of interfering with them. They do not descend to any great
depth below the surface-- never, at any rate, beyond the reach of light; so that
there is always a considerable space between their realm and the domain of the
far less evolved creatures of the middle deeps.
263.
FRESH-WATER FAIRIES
264.
Some very beautiful species inhabit inland waters where man has not yet
rendered the conditions impossible for them. Naturally enough, the filth and the
chemicals with which water is polluted near any large town are disgusting to
them; but they have apparently no objection to the water-wheel in a quiet
country nook, for they may sometimes be seen disporting themselves in a
mill-race. They seem specially to delight in falling water, just as their
brothers of the sea revel in the breaking of foam; for the pleasure which it
gives them they will sometimes even dare a nearer approach than usual to the
hated presence of man. At Niagara, for example, there are almost always some
still to be seen in the summer, though they generally keep well out towards the
centre of the Falls and the Rapids. Like birds of passage, in winter they
abandon those northern waters, which are frozen over for many months, and seek a
temporary home in more genial climes. A short frost they do not seem to mind;
the mere cold has apparently little or no effect upon them, but they dislike the
disturbance of their ordinary conditions. Some of those who commonly inhabit
rivers transfer themselves to the sea when their streams freeze; to others salt
water seems distasteful, and they prefer to migrate considerable distances
rather than take refuge in the ocean.
265.
An interesting variety of the fairies of the water are the
cloud-spirits-- entities whose life is spent almost entirely among those “waters
which be above the firmament”. They should perhaps be classified as intermediate
between the spirits of the water and those of the air; their bodies are of
etheric matter, as are the former, but they are capable of remaining away from
the water for comparatively long periods. Their forms are often huge and loosely
knit; they seem near of kin to some of the fresh-water types, yet they are quite
willing to dip for a time into the sea when the clouds which are their favourite
habitat disappear. They dwell in the luminous silence of cloudland, and their
favourite pastime is to mould their clouds into strange, fantastic shapes or to
arrange them in the serried ranks which we call a mackerel sky.
266.
SYLPHS
267.
We come now to the consideration of the highest type in the kingdom of
the nature-spirits-- the stage at which the lines of development both of the
land and sea creatures converge-- the sylphs, or spirits of the air. These
entities are definitely raised above all the other varieties of which we have
been speaking by the fact that they have shaken themselves free from the
encumbrance of physical matter, the astral body being now their lowest vehicle.
Their intelligence is much higher than that of the etheric species, and quite
equal to that of the average man; but they have not yet attained a permanent
reincarnating individuality. Just because they are so much more evolved, before
breaking away from the group-soul they can understand much more about life than
an animal can, and so it often happens that they know that they lack
individuality and are intensely eager to gain it. That is the truth that lies at
the back of all the widely-spread traditions of the yearning of the
nature-spirit to obtain an immortal soul.
268.
The normal method for them to attain this is by association with and love
for members of the next stage above them-- the astral angels. A domestic animal,
such as the dog or the cat, advances through the development of his intelligence
and his affection which is the result of his close relationship with his master.
Not only does his love for that master cause him to make determined efforts to
understand him, but the vibrations of the master' s mind-body, constantly
playing upon his rudimentary mind, gradually awaken it into greater and greater
activity; and in the same way his affection for him arouses an ever-deepening
feeling in return. The man may or may not definitely set himself to teach the
animal something; in any case, even without any direct effort, the intimate
connection between them helps the evolvement of the lower. Eventually the
development of such an animal rises to the level which will allow him to receive
the Third Outpouring, and thus he becomes an individual, and breaks away from
his group-soul.
269.
Now all this is also exactly what happens between the astral angel and
the air-spirit, except that by them the scheme is usually carried out in a much
more intelligent and effective manner. Not one man in a thousand thinks or knows
anything about the real evolution of his dog or cat; still less does the animal
comprehend the possibility that lies before him. But the angel clearly
understands the plan of nature, and in many cases the nature-spirit also knows
what he needs, and works intelligently towards its attainment. So each of these
astral angels usually has several sylphs attached to him, frequently definitely
learning from him and being trained by him, but at any rate basking in the play
of his intellect and returning his affection. Very many of these angels are
employed as agents by the Devarajas in their duty of the distributing of karma;
and thus it comes that the air-spirits are often sub-agents in that work, and no
doubt acquire much valuable knowledge while executing the tasks assigned to
them.
270.
The Adept knows how to make use of the services of the nature-spirits
when he requires them, and there are many pieces of business which he is able to
entrust to them. In the issue of Broad Views for February, 1907, there
appeared an admirable account of the ingenious manner in which a nature-spirit
executed a commission given to him in this way.
271.
He was instructed to amuse an invalid who was suffering from an attack of
influenza, and for five days he kept up an almost continuous entertainment of
strange and interesting visions, his efforts being crowned with the most
gratifying success, for the sufferer wrote that his ministrations “had the happy
effect of turning what under ordinary circumstances would have been days of
unutterable weariness and discomfort into a most wonderfully interesting
experience”.
272.
He showed a bewildering variety of pictures, moving masses of rock, seen
not from the outside but from the inside, so that faces of creatures of various
sorts appeared in them. He also exhibited mountains, forests and avenues, and
sometimes great masses of architecture, portions of Corinthian columns, bits of
statuary, and great arched roofs, often also the most wonderful flowers and
palms, waving to and fro as if in a gentle breeze. Sometimes he seems to have
taken the physical objects in the bedroom and woven them into a kind of magic
transformation scene. One might indeed surmise, from the curious nature of the
entertainment offered, the particular type to which belonged the nature-spirit
who was employed in this charitable work.
273.
The Oriental magician occasionally endeavours to obtain the assistance of
the higher nature-spirits in his performances, but the enterprise is not without
its dangers. He must adopt either invocation or evocation-- that is, he must
either attract their attention as a suppliant and make some kind of bargain with
them, or he must try to set in motion influences which will compel their
obedience-- an attempt which, if it fails, will arouse a determined hostility
that is exceedingly likely to result in his premature extinction, or at the
least will put him in an extremely ridiculous and unpleasant position.
274.
Of these air-spirits, as of the lower fairies, there are many varieties,
differing in power, in intelligence and in habits as well as in appearance. They
are naturally less restricted to locality than the other kinds which we have
described, though like the others they seem to recognise the limits of certain
zones of elevation, some kinds always floating near the surface of the earth,
while others scarcely ever approach it. As a general rule they share the common
dislike to the neighbourhood of man and his restless desires, but there are
occasions when they are willing to endure this for the sake of amusement or
flattery.
275.
THEIR AMUSEMENT
276.
They extract immense entertainment sometimes out of the sport of
ensouling thought-forms of various kinds. An author in writing a novel, for
example, naturally makes strong thought-forms of all his characters, and moves
them about his miniature stage like marionettes; but sometimes a party of jocund
nature-spirits will seize upon his forms, and play out the drama upon a scheme
improvised on the spur of the moment, so that the dismayed novelist feels that
his puppets have somehow got out of hand and developed a will of their own.
277.
The love of mischief which is so marked a characteristic of some of the
fairies persists to a certain extent among at least the lower types of the
air-spirits, so that their impersonations are occasionally of a less innocent
order. People whose evil karma has brought them under the domination of
Calvinistic theology, but who have not yet the intelligence or the faith to cast
aside its blasphemous doctrines, sometimes in their fear make awful
thought-forms of the imaginary devil to which their superstition gives such a
prominent role in the universe; and I regret to say that certain impish
nature-spirits are quite unable to resist the temptation of masquerading in
these terrible forms, and think it a great joke to flourish horns, to lash a
forked tail, and to breathe out flames as they rush about. To anyone who
understands the nature of these pantomime demons no harm is done; but now and
then nervous children happen to be impressionable enough to catch a glimpse of
such things, and if they have not been wisely taught, great terror is the
result.
278.
It is only fair to the nature-spirit to remember that, as he himself is
incapable of fear, he does not in the least understand the gravity of this
result, and probably considers the child' s fright as simulated, and as part of
the game. We can hardly blame the nature-spirit for the fact that we permit our
children to be bound by the chains of a grovelling superstition, and neglect to
impress upon them the grand fundamental fact that God is love and that perfect
love casteth out all fear. If our air-spirit occasionally thus terrifies the
ill-instructed living child, it must on the other hand be set to his credit that
he constantly affords the keenest pleasure to thousands of children who are what
we call ` dead,' for to play with them and to entertain them in a hundred
different ways is one of his happiest occupations.
279.
The air-spirits have discovered the opportunity afforded to them by the
spiritualistic séance, and some of them become habitual attendants, usually
under some such name as Daisy or Sunflower. They are quite capable of giving a
very interesting séance, for they naturally know a good deal about astral life
and its possibilities. They will readily answer questions, truly enough as far
as their knowledge goes, and with, at any rate, an appearance of profundity when
the subject is somewhat beyond them. They can produce raps, tilts and lights
without difficulty, and are quite prepared to deliver whatever messages they may
see to be desired-- not in the least meaning in this way harm or deceit, but
naively rejoicing in their success in playing the part, and in the wealth of
awe-stricken devotion and affection lavished upon them as “dear spirits” and
“angel helpers”. They learn to share the delight of the sitters, and feel
themselves to be doing a good work in thus bringing comfort to the afflicted.
280.
Living astrally as they do, the fourth dimension is a commonplace fact of
their existence, and this makes quite simple for them many little tricks which
to us appear wonderful, such as the removal of articles from a locked box or the
apport of flowers into a closed room. The desires and emotions of the sitters
lie open before them, they quickly acquire facility in reading any but abstract
thoughts, and the management of a materialisation is quite within their power
when adequate material is provided. It will therefore be seen that without any
exterior assistance they are competent to provide a varied and satisfactory
evening' s entertainment, and there is no doubt that they have often done so. I
am not for a moment suggesting that nature-spirits are the only entities which
operate at séances; the manifesting ` spirit' is often exactly what he claims to
be, but it is also true that he is often nothing of the kind, and the average
sitter has absolutely no means of distinguishing between the genuine article and
the imitation.
281.
AN ABNORMAL DEVELOPMENT
282.
As has already been said, the normal line of advancement for the
nature-spirit is to attain individuality by association with an angel, but there
have been individuals who have departed from that rule. The intensity of
affection felt by the sylph for the angel is the principal factor in the great
change, and the abnormal cases are those in which that affection has been fixed
upon a human being instead. This involves so complete a reversal of the common
attitude of these beings towards humanity that its occurrence is naturally rare;
but when it happens, and when the love is strong enough to lead to
individualisation, it detaches the nature-spirit from his own line of evolution
and brings him over into ours, so that the newly developed ego will incarnate
not as an angel but as a man.
283.
Some tradition of this possibility lies at the back of all the stories in
which a non-human spirit falls in love with a man, and yearns with a great
longing to obtain an immortal soul in order to be able to spend eternity with
him. Upon attaining his incarnation such a spirit usually makes a man of very
curious type-- affectionate and emotional but wayward, strangely primitive in
certain ways, and utterly without any sense of responsibility.
284.
It has sometimes happened that a sylph who was thus strongly attracted to
a man or a woman, but just fell short of the intensity of affection necessary to
ensure individualisation, has made an effort to obtain a forcible entrance into
human evolution by taking possession of the body of a dying baby just as its
original owner left it. The child would seem to recover, to be snatched back
from the very jaws of death, but would be likely to appear much changed in
disposition, and probably peevish and irritable in consequence of the
unaccustomed constraint of a dense physical body.
285.
If the sylph were able to adapt himself to the body, there would be
nothing to prevent him from retaining it through a life of the ordinary length.
If during that life he succeeded in developing affection sufficiently ardent to
sever his connection with his group-soul he would thereafter reincarnate as a
human being in the usual way; if not, he would fall back at its conclusion into
his own line of evolution. It will be seen that in these facts we have the truth
which underlies the widely disseminated tradition of changelings, which is found
in all the countries of north-western Europe, in China, and also (it is said)
among the natives of the Pacific slope of North America.
286.
THE ADVANTAGE OF STUDYING THEM
287.
The kingdom of the nature-spirits is a most interesting field of study,
to which but little attention has been paid. Though they are often mentioned in
occult literature, I am not aware that any attempt has yet been made to classify
them in scientific fashion. This vast realm of nature still needs its Cuvier or
its Linnaeus; but perhaps when we have plenty of trained investigators we may
hope that one of them will take upon himself this role, and furnish us as his
life' s work with a complete and detailed natural history of these delightful
creatures.
288.
It will be no waste of labour, no unworthy study. It is useful for us to
understand these beings, not solely nor even chiefly because of the influence
they exert upon us, but because the comprehension of a line of evolution so
different from our own broadens our minds and helps us to recognise that the
world does not exist for us alone, and that our point of view is neither the
only one nor the most important. Foreign travel has the same effect in a minor
degree, for it demonstrates to every unprejudiced man that races in every
respect as good as his own may yet differ widely from it in a hundred ways. In
the study of the nature-spirits we find the same idea carried much further; here
is a kingdom radically dissimilar-- without sex, free from fear, ignorant of
what is meant by the struggle for existence-- yet the eventual result of its
unfoldment is in every respect equal to that attained by following our own line.
To learn this may help us to see a little more of the many-sidedness of the
Solar Deity, and so may teach us modesty and charity as well as liberality of
thought.
289.
CHAPTER VII
290.
BY CENTRES OF MAGNETISM
291.
WE all recognise to some extent that unusual surroundings may produce
special effects; we speak of certain buildings or landscapes as gloomy and
depressing; we understand that there is something saddening and repellent about
a prison, something devotional about a church, and so on. Most people never
trouble to think why this should be so, or if they do for a moment turn their
attention to the matter, they dismiss it as an instance of the association of
ideas.
292.
Probably it is that, but it is also much more than that, and if
we examine into its rationale we shall find that it operates in many cases where
we have never suspected its influence, and that a knowledge of it may be of
practical use in everyday life. A study of the finer forces of nature will show
us not only that every living being is radiating a complex set of definite
influences upon those about him, but also that this is true to a lesser degree
and in a simpler manner of inanimate objects.
293.
OUR GREAT CATHEDRALS
294.
We know that wood and iron and stone have their own respective
characteristic radiations, but the point to be emphasised just now is that they
are all capable of absorbing human influence, and then pouring it out again.
What is the origin of that feeling of devotion, of reverential awe, which so
permeates some of our great cathedrals that even the most hardened Cook' s
tourist cannot entirely escape it? It is due not only to the historical
associations, not only to the remembrance of the fact that for
centuries men have met here for praise and prayer, but far more to that fact
itself, and to the conditions which it has produced in the substance of the
fabric.
295.
To understand this we must first of all remember the circumstances under
which those buildings were erected. A modern brick church, run up by contract in
the shortest possible time, has indeed but little sanctity about it; but in
mediaeval days faith was greater, and the influence of the outer world less
prominent. In very truth men prayed as they built our great cathedrals, and laid
every stone as though it had been an offering upon an altar. When this was the
spirit of the work, every such stone became a veritable talisman charged with
the reverence and devotion of the builder, and capable of radiating those same
waves of sensation upon others, so as to stir in them similar feelings. The
crowds who came afterwards to worship at the shrine not only felt these
radiations, but themselves strengthened them in turn by the reaction of their
own feelings.
296.
Still more is this true of the interior decorations of the church. Every
touch of the brush in the colouring of a triptych, every stroke of the chisel in
the sculpture of a statue, was a direct offering to God. Thus the completed work
of art is surrounded by an atmosphere of reverence and love, and it distinctly
sheds these qualities upon the worshippers. All of them, rich and poor alike,
feel something of this effect, even though many of them may be too ignorant to
receive the added stimulus which its artistic excellence gives to those who are
able to appreciate it and to perceive all that it means.
297.
The sunlight streaming through the splendid stained glass of those
mediaeval windows brings with it a glory that is not all of the physical world,
for the clever workmen who built up that marvellous mosaic did so for the love
of God and the glory of His saints, and so each fragment of glass is a talisman
also. Remembering always how the power conveyed into the statue or picture by
the fervour of the original artist has been perpetually reinforced through the
ages by the devotion of successive generations of worshippers, we come to
understand the inner meaning of the great influence which undoubtedly does
radiate from such objects as have been regarded as sacred for centuries.
298.
Such a devotional effect as is described in connection with a picture or
a statue may be entirely apart from its value as a work of art. The bambino at
the Ara Coeli at Rome is a supremely inartistic object, yet it has
unquestionably considerable power in evoking devotional feeling among the masses
that crowd to see it. If it were really a work of art, that fact would add but
little to its influence over most of them, though of course it would in that
case produce an additional and totally different effect upon another class of
persons to whom now it does not in the least appeal.
299.
From these considerations it is evident that these various ecclesiastical
properties, such as statues, pictures and other decorations, have a real value
in the effect which they produce upon the worshippers, and the fact that they
thus have a distinct power, which so many people can feel, probably accounts for
the intense hatred felt for them by the savage fanatics who miscalled themselves
puritans. They realised that the power which stood behind the Church worked to a
great extent through these objects as its channels, and though their loathing
for all higher influences was considerably tempered by fear, they yet felt that
if they could break up these centres of magnetism, that would to a certain
extent cut off the connection. And so in their revolt against all that was good
and beautiful they did all the harm that they could-- almost as much perhaps as
those earlier so-called Christians who, through sheer ignorance, ground up the
most lovely Grecian statues to furnish lime to build their wretched hovels.
300.
In all these splendid mediaeval buildings the sentiment of devotion
absolutely and literally exudes from the walls, because for centuries devotional
thought-forms have been created in them by successive generations. In strong
contrast to this is the atmosphere of criticism and disputation which may be
felt by any sensitive person in the meeting-houses of some of the sects. In many
a conventicle in Scotland and in Holland this feeling stands out with startling
prominence, so as to give the impression that the great majority of the
so-called worshippers have had no thought of worship or devotion at all, but
only of the most sanctimonious self-righteousness, and of burning anxiety to
discover some doctrinal flaw in the wearisome sermon of their unfortunate
minister.
301.
An absolutely new church does not at first produce any of these effects;
for in these days workmen build a church with the same lack of enthusiasm as a
factory. As soon as the bishop consecrates it, a decided influence is set up as
the effect of that ceremony, but the consideration of that belongs to another
chapter of our work. A few years of use will charge the walls very effectively,
and a much shorter period than that will produce the result in a church where
the sacrament is reserved, or where perpetual adoration is offered. The Roman
Catholic or Ritualistic church soon becomes thoroughly affected, but the
meeting-houses of some of the dissenting sects which do not make a special point
of devotion, often produce for a long time an influence scarcely distinguishable
from that which is to be felt in an ordinary lecture hall. A fine type of
devotional influence is often to be found in the chapel of a convent or
monastery, though again the type differs greatly according to the objects which
the monks or the nuns set before themselves.
302.
TEMPLES
303.
I have been taking Christian fanes as an example, because they are those
which are most familiar to me-- which will also be most familiar to the majority
of my readers; also perhaps because Christianity is the religion which has made
a special point of devotion, and has, more than any other, arranged for the
simultaneous expression of it in special buildings erected for that purpose.
Among Hindus the Vaishnavite has a devotion quite as profound as that of any
Christian, though unfortunately it is often tainted by expectation of favours to
be given in return. But the Hindu has no idea of anything like combined worship.
Though on great festivals enormous crowds attend the temples, each person makes
his little prayer or goes through his little ceremony for himself, and so he
misses the enormous additional effect which is produced by simultaneous action.
304.
Regarded solely from the point of view of charging the walls of the
temple with devotional influence, this plan differs from the other in a way that
we may perhaps understand by taking a physical illustration of a number of
sailors pulling at a rope. We know that, when that is being done, a sort of
chant is generally used in order to ensure that the men shall apply their
strength at exactly the same moment; and in that way a much more effective pull
is produced than would be achieved if each man put out exactly the same
strength, but applied it just when he felt that he could, and without any
relation to the work of the others.
305.
Nevertheless as the years roll by there comes to be a strong feeling in a
Vaishnavite temple-- as strong perhaps as that of the Christians, though quite
different in kind. Different again in quite another way is the impression
produced in the great temples dedicated to Shiva. In such a shrine as that at
Madura, for example, an exceedingly powerful influence radiates from the holy of
holies. It is surrounded by a strong feeling of reverential awe, almost of fear,
and this so deeply tinges the devotion of the crowds who come to worship that
the very aura of the place is changed by it.
306.
Completely different again is the impression which surrounds a Buddhist
temple. Of fear we have there absolutely no trace whatever. We have perhaps less
of direct devotion, for to a large extent devotion is replaced by gratitude. The
prominent radiation is always one of joyfulness and love-- an utter absence of
anything dark or stern.
307.
Another complete contrast is represented by the Muhammadan mosque;
devotion of a sort is present there also, but it is distinctly a militant
devotion, and the particular impression that it gives one is that of a fiery
determination. One feels that this population' s comprehension of their creed
may be limited, but there is no question whatever as to their dogged
determination to hold by it.
308.
The Jewish synagogue again is like none of the others, but has a feeling
which is quite distinct, and curiously dual-- exceptionally materialistic on one
side, and on the other full of a strong, pathetic longing for the return of
vanished glories.
309.
SITES AND RELICS
310.
A partial recognition of another facet of the facts which we have been
mentioning accounts for the choice of the site of many religious edifices. A
church or a temple is frequently erected to commemorate the life and death of
some saint, and in the first instance such a fane is built upon a spot which has
some special connection with him. It may be the place where he died, the spot
where he was born, or where some important event of his life occurred.
311.
The Church of the Nativity at Bethlehem and that of the Crucifixion at
Jerusalem are instances of this, as is also the great Stupa at Buddhagaya where
the Lord Gautama attained His Buddhahood, or the temple of the ` Bishanpad'
where it is supposed that Vishnu left His foot-mark. All such shrines are
erected not so much from an historical sense which wishes to indicate for the
benefit of posterity the exact spot where an important event happened, as with
the idea that that spot is especially blessed, especially charged with a
magnetism which will remain through the ages, and will radiate upon and benefit
those who bring themselves within the radius of its influence. Nor is this
universal idea without adequate foundation.
312.
The spot at which the Lord BUDDHA gained the step which gives Him that
august title is charged with a magnetism which causes it to glow forth like a
sun for anyone who has clairvoyant vision. It is calculated to produce the
strongest possible magnetic effect on anyone who is naturally sensitive to such
influence, or who deliberately makes himself temporarily sensitive to such
influence by putting himself in an attitude of heartfelt devotion.
313.
In a recent article on Buddhagaya in The Lotus Journal Alcyone
wrote:
314.
When I sat quietly under the tree for awhile with Mrs. Besant, I was able
to see the Lord BUDDHA, as He had looked when He sat there. Indeed, the record
of His meditation is still so strong that it needs only a little clairvoyance to
see Him even now. I had the advantage of having met Him in that life in 588
B.C., and become one of His followers, so that it was easier for me to see Him
again in this present life. But I think almost anyone who is a little sensitive
would see Him at Buddhagaya by staying quite quiet for a little time because the
air is full of His influence, and even now there are always great Devas bathing
in the magnetism, and guarding the place.
315.
Other churches, temples or dagobas are sanctified by the possession of
relics of some Great One, and here again the connection of ideas is obvious. It
is customary for those who are ignorant of these matters to ridicule the idea of
paying reverence to the fragment of bone which once belonged to a saint; but
though reverence paid to the bone may be out of place, the influence radiating
from that bone may nevertheless be quite a real thing, and well worthy of
serious attention. That the trade in relics has led, all the world over, to
fraud on the one hand and blind credulity on the other, is not a thing to be
disputed; but that by no means alters the fact that a genuine relic may be a
valuable thing. Whatever has been part of the physical body of a Great One, or
even of the garments which have clothed that physical body, is impregnated with
his personal magnetism. That means that it is charged with the powerful waves of
thought and feeling which used to issue from him, just as an electrical battery
may be charged.
316.
Such force as it possesses is intensified and perpetuated by the
thought-waves poured upon it as the years roll by, by the faith and devotion of
the crowds who visit the shrine. This when the relic is genuine; but most relics
are not genuine. Even then, though they have no initial strength of their own,
they acquire much influence as time goes on, so that even a false relic is by no
means without effect. Therefore anyone putting himself into a receptive
attitude, and coming into the immediate neighbourhood of a relic, will receive
into himself its strong vibrations, and soon will be more or less attuned to
them. Since those vibrations are unquestionably better and stronger than any
which he is likely to generate on his own account, this is a good thing for him.
For the time being it lifts him on to a higher level, it opens a higher world to
him; and though the effect is only temporary, this cannot but be good for him--
an event which will leave him, for the rest of his life, slightly better than if
it had not occurred.
317.
This is the rationale of pilgrimages, and they are quite often really
effective. In addition to whatever may have been the original magnetism
contributed by the holy man or relic, as soon as the place of pilgrimage is
established and numbers of people begin to visit it, another factor comes into
play, of which we have already spoken in the case of churches and temples. The
place begins to be charged with the devotional feeling of all these hosts of
visitors, and what they leave behind reacts upon their successors. Thus the
influence of one of these holy places usually does not decrease as time passes,
for if the original force tends slightly to diminish, on the other hand it is
constantly fed by new accessions of devotion. Indeed, the only case in which the
power ever fades is that of a neglected shrine-- as, for example, when a country
is conquered by people of another religion, to whom the older shrines are as
nothing. Even then the influence, if it has been originally sufficiently strong,
persists almost without diminution for many centuries, and for this reason even
ruins have often a powerful force connected with them.
318.
The Egyptian religion, for example, has been practised little since the
Christian era, yet no sensitive person can stand amidst the ruins of one of its
temples without being powerfully affected by the stream of its thought. In this
particular instance another force comes into play; the Egyptian architecture was
of a definite type, intentionally so erected for the purpose of producing a
definite impression upon its worshippers, and perhaps no architecture has ever
fulfilled its purpose more effectively.
319.
The shattered fragments which remain still produce that effect to no
inconsiderable degree, even upon members of an alien race altogether out of
touch with the type of the old Egyptian civilisation. For the student of
comparative religion who happens to be sensitive, there can be no more
interesting experience than this-- to bathe in the magnetism of the older
religions of the world, to feel their influence as their devotees felt it
thousands of years ago, to compare the sensations of Thebes or Luxor with those
of the Parthenon or of the beautiful Greek temples of Girgenti, or those of
Stonehenge with the vast ruins of Yucatan.
320.
RUINS
321.
The religious life of the old world can best be sensed in this way
through the agency of its temples; but it is equally possible in the same way to
come into touch with the daily life of those vanished nations, by standing among
the ruins of their palaces and their homes. This needs perhaps a keener
clairvoyant sense than the other. The force which permeates the temple is
powerful because it is to a considerable extent one-pointed-- because all
through the centuries people have come to it with one leading idea of prayer or
devotion, and so the impression made has been comparatively powerful. In their
homes, on the other hand, they have lived out their lives with all kinds of
different ideas and warring interests, so that the impressions often cancel one
another.
322.
Nevertheless there emerges, as years roll on, a sort of least common
multiple of all their feelings, which is characteristic of them as a race, and
this can be sensed by one who has the art of entirely suppressing those personal
feelings of his own, which are so far nearer and more vivid to him, and
listening earnestly to catch the faint echo of the life of those times so long
ago. Such study often enables one to take a juster view of history; manners and
customs which startle and horrify us, because they are so remote from our own,
can in this way be contemplated from the point of view of those to whom they
were familiar; and in seeing them thus, one often realises for the first time
how entirely we have misconceived those men of the past.
323.
Some of us may remember how, in our childhood, ignorant though
well-meaning relations endeavoured to excite our sympathy by stories of
Christian martyrs who were thrown to the lions in the Colosseum at Rome, or
reprobated with horror the callous brutality which could assemble thousands to
enjoy the combats between gladiators. I am not prepared to defend the tastes and
amusements of the ancient Roman citizen, yet I think that any sensitive person
who will go to the Colosseum at Rome and (if he can for the moment escape from
the tourist) sit down there quietly, and let his consciousness drift backwards
in time until he can sense the real feeling of those enormous, wildly-excited
audiences, will find that he has done them a gross injustice.
324.
First, he will realise that the throwing of Christians to the lions
because of their religious belief is a pious falsehood of the unprincipled
early Christians. He will find that the government of Rome was in religious
matters distinctly more tolerant than most European governments at the present
day; that no person was ever executed or persecuted on account of any religious
opinion whatever, and that those so-called Christians who were put to death
suffered not in the least because of their alleged religion, but because of
conspiracy against the State, or of crimes which we should all join in
reprobating.
325.
He will find that the government allowed and even encouraged gladiatorial
combats, but he will also find that only three classes of people took part in
them. First, condemned criminals-- men whose lives had been forfeited to the law
of the time-- were utilised to provide a spectacle for the people, a degrading
spectacle certainly, but not in any way more so than many which receive popular
approval at the present day. The malefactor was killed in the arena, fighting
either against another malefactor or a wild beast; but he preferred to die
fighting rather than at the hands of the law, and there was always just a
possibility that if he fought well he might thereby contrive to earn the
applause of the fickle population; and so save his life.
326.
The second class consisted of such prisoners of war as it was the fashion
of the time to put to death; but in this case also these were people whose death
was already decided upon, and this particular form of death utilised them for a
certain form of popular entertainment, and also gave them a chance of saving
their lives, at which they eagerly grasped. The third class were the
professional gladiators, men like the prize-fighters of the present day, men who
took up this horrible line of life for the sake of the popularity which it
brought-- accepting it with their eyes fully open to its danger.
327.
I am not for a moment suggesting that the gladiatorial show was a form of
entertainment which could possibly be tolerated by a really enlightened people;
but if we are to apply the same standard now, we shall have to admit that no
enlightened nations have yet come into existence, for it was no worse than the
mediaeval tournaments, than the cock-fighting and bear-baiting of a century ago,
or than the bull-fight or prize-fight of the present day. Nor is there anything
to choose between the brutality of its supporters and that of the people who go
in vast crowds to see how many rats a dog can kill in a minute, or that of the
noble sportsmen who (without the excuse of anything in the nature of a fair
fight) go out to slaughter hundreds of inoffensive partridges.
328.
We are beginning to set a somewhat higher value on human life than they
did in the days of ancient Rome; but even so I would point out that that change
does not mark a difference between the ancient Roman race and its reincarnation
in the English people, for our own race was equally callous about wholesale
slaughter up to a century ago. The difference is not between us and the Romans,
but between us and our very recent ancestors; for the crowds which in the days
of our fathers went and jested at a public execution can hardly be said to have
advanced much since the time when they crowded the benches of the Colosseum.
329.
It is true that the Roman Emperors attended those exhibitions, as the
English Kings used to encourage the tournament, and as the Kings of Spain even
now patronise the bull-fight; but in order to understand the varied motives
which led them to do this we must make a thorough study of the politics of the
time-- a matter which is quite outside the scope of this book. Here it must
suffice to say that the Roman citizens were a body of men in a very curious
political position, and that the authorities considered it necessary to provide
them with constant entertainments in order to keep them in a good humour.
Therefore they hit upon this method of utilising what they regarded as the
necessary and customary execution of criminals and rebels, in order to provide
for the proletariat a kind of entertainment which it enjoyed. A very brutal
proletariat, you will say. One must certainly admit that they were not highly
advanced, but at least they were far better than those much later specimens who
took active part in the unspeakable horrors of the French Revolution, for these
last felt an active delight in blood and cruelty, which were only unnoticed
concomitants of the enjoyment in the case of the Roman.
330.
Anyone who, standing in the Colosseum, as I have said, will really allow
himself to feel the true spirit of those crowds of long ago, will understand
that what appealed to them was the excitement of the contest and the skill
exhibited in it. Their brutality consisted not in the fact that they enjoyed
bloodshed and suffering, but that in the excitement of watching the struggle
they were able to ignore it-- which after all is very much what we do when we
eagerly follow in the columns of our newspapers the news from the seat of war in
the present day. Level for level, case for case, we of the fifth sub-race have
made a slight advance from the condition of the fourth sub-race of two thousand
years ago; but that advance is much slighter than our self-satisfaction has
persuaded us.
331.
Every country has its ruins, and in all alike the study of the older life
is an interesting study. A good idea of the wonderfully varied activities and
interests of the mediaeval monastic life in England may be obtained by visiting
that queen of ruins, Fountains Abbey, just as by visiting the stones of Carnac
(not in Egypt but in Morbihan) one may watch the midsummer rejoicings round the
tantad or sacred fire of the ancient Bretons.
332.
There is perhaps less necessity to study the ruins of India, since daily
life there has remained so unchanged throughout the ages that no clairvoyant
faculty is required to picture it as it was thousands of years ago. None of the
actual buildings of India go back to any period of appreciable difference, and
in most cases the relics of the golden age of India under the great Atlantean
monarchies are already deeply buried. If we turn to mediaeval times, the effect
of environment and religion on practically the same people is curiously
illustrated by the difference in feeling between any ancient city of the north
of India and the ruins of Anuradhapura in Ceylon.
333.
MODERN CITIES
334.
Just as our ancestors of long ago lived their ordinary lives in what was
to them the ordinary commonplace way, and never dreamed that in doing so they
were impregnating the stones of their city walls with influences which would
enable a psychometer thousands of years afterwards to study the inmost secrets
of their existence, so we ourselves are impregnating our cities and
leaving behind us a record which will shock the sensibilities of the more
developed men of the future. In certain ways which will readily suggest
themselves, all great towns are much alike; but on the other hand there are
differences of local atmosphere, depending to some extent upon the average
morality of the city, the type of religious views most largely held in it, and
its principal trades and manufactures. For all these reasons each city has a
certain amount of individuality-- and individuality which will attract some
people and repel others, according to their disposition. Even those who are not
specially sensitive can hardly fail to note the distinction between the feeling
of Paris and that of London, between Edinburgh and Glasgow, or between
Philadelphia and Chicago.
335.
There are some cities whose key-note is not of the present but of the
past-- whose life in earlier days was so much more forcible than it is now, that
the present is dwarfed by its comparison. The cities on the Zuyder Zee in
Holland are an instance of this; S. Albans in England is another. But the finest
example which the world has to offer is the immortal city of Rome. Rome stands
alone among the cities of the world in having three great and entirely separate
interests for the psychic investigator. First, and much the strongest, is the
impression left by the astonishing vitality and vigour of that Rome which was
the centre of the world, the Rome of the Republic and the Caesars; then comes
another strong and unique impression-- that of mediaeval Rome, the
ecclesiastical centre of the world: third and quite different from either, the
modern Rome of to-day, the political centre of the somewhat loosely integrated
Italian kingdom, and at the same time still an ecclesiastical centre of
widespread influence, though shorn of its glory and power.
336.
I first went to Rome, I confess, with the expectation that the Rome of
the mediaeval Popes, with the assistance of all the world-thought that must for
so long have been centred upon it, and with the advantage also of being so much
nearer to us in time, would have to a considerable extent blotted out the life
of the Rome of the Caesars. I was startled to find that the actual facts are
almost exactly the reverse of that. The conditions of Rome in the Middle Ages
were sufficiently remarkable to have stamped an indelible character upon any
other town in the world; but so enormously stronger was the amazingly vivid life
of that earlier civilisation, that it still stands out, in spite of all the
history that has been made there since, as the one ineffaceable and dominating
characteristic of Rome.
337.
To the clairvoyant investigator, Rome is (and ever will be) first of all
the Rome of the Caesars, and only secondarily the Rome of the Popes. The
impression of ecclesiastical history is all there, recoverable to the minutest
detail; a bewildering mass of devotion and intrigue, of insolent tyranny and
real religious feeling; a history of terrible corruption and of world-wide
power, but rarely used as well as it might have been. And yet, mighty as it is,
it is dwarfed into absolute insignificance by the grander power that went before
it. There was a robustness of faith in himself, a conviction of destiny, a
resolute intention to live his life to the utmost, and a certainty of being able
to do it, about the ancient Roman, which few nationalities of to-day can
approach.
338.
PUBLIC BUILDINGS
339.
Not only has a city as a whole its general characteristics, but such of
the buildings in it as are devoted to special purposes have always an aura
characteristic of that purpose. The aura of a hospital, for example, is a
curious mixture; a preponderance of suffering, weariness and pain, but also a
good deal of pity for the suffering, and a feeling of gratitude on the part of
the patients for the kindly care which is taken of them.
340.
The neighbourhood of a prison is decidedly to be avoided when a man is
selecting a residence, for from it radiate the most terrible gloom and despair
and settled depression, mingled with impotent rage, grief and hatred. Few places
have on the whole a more unpleasant aura around them; and even in the general
darkness there are often spots blacker than the rest, cells of unusual horror
round which an evil reputation hangs. For example, there are several cases on
record in which the successive occupants of a certain cell in a prison have all
tried to commit suicide, those who were unsuccessful explaining that the idea of
suicide persistently arose in their minds, and was steadily pressed upon them
from without, until they were gradually brought into a condition in which there
seemed to be no alternative. There have been instances in which such a feeling
was due to the direct persuasion of a dead man; but also and more frequently it
is simply that the first suicide has charged the cell so thoroughly with
thoughts and suggestions of this nature that the later occupants, being probably
persons of no great strength or development of will, have found themselves
practically unable to resist.
341.
More terrible still are the thoughts which still hang round some of the
dreadful dungeons of mediaeval tyrannies, the oubliettes of Venice or
the torture-dens of the Inquisition. Just in the same way the very walls of a
gambling-house radiate grief, envy, despair and hatred, and those of the
public-house, or house of ill-fame, absolutely reek with the coarsest forms of
sensual and brutal desire.
342.
CEMETERIES
343.
In such cases as those mentioned above, it is easy enough for all decent
people to escape the pernicious influences simply by avoiding the place; but
there are other instances in which people are placed in undesirable situations
through the indulgence of natural good feeling. In countries which are not
civilised enough to burn their dead, survivors constantly haunt the graves in
which decaying physical bodies are laid; from a feeling of affectionate
remembrance they gather often to pray and meditate there, and to lay wreaths of
flowers upon the tombs. They do not understand that the radiations of sorrow,
depression and helplessness which so frequently permeate the churchyard or
cemetery make it an eminently undesirable place to visit. I have seen old people
walking and sitting about in some of our more beautiful cemeteries, and
nursemaids wheeling along young children in their perambulators to take their
daily airing, neither of them probably having the least idea that they are
subjecting themselves and their charges to influences which will most likely
neutralise all the good of the exercise and the fresh air; and this quite apart
from the possibility of unhealthy physical exhalations.
344.
UNIVERSITIES AND SCHOOLS
345.
The ancient buildings of our great universities are surrounded with
magnetism of a special type, which does much towards setting upon its graduates
that peculiar seal which is so readily distinguishable, even though it is not
easy to say in so many words exactly of what it consists. Men attending the
university are of many and various types-- reading men, hunting men, pious men,
careless men; and sometimes one college of a university attracts only one of
these classes. In that case its walls become permeated with those
characteristics, and its atmosphere operates to keep up its reputation. But on
the whole the university is surrounded with a pleasant feeling of work and
comradeship, of association yet of independence, a feeling of respect for the
traditions of the Alma Mater and the resolve to uphold them, which soon
brings the new undergraduate into line with his fellows and imposes upon him the
unmistakable university tone.
346.
Not unlike this is the influence exerted by the buildings of our great
public schools. The impressionable boy who comes to one of these soon feels
about him a sense of order and regularity and esprit de corps, which
once gained can scarcely be forgotten. Something of the same sort, but perhaps
even more pronounced, exists in the case of a battleship, especially if she is
under a popular captain and has been some little time in commission.
There also the new recruit very quickly finds his place, soon
acquires the esprit de corps, soon learns to feel himself one of a
family whose honour he is bound to uphold. Much of this is due to the example of
his fellows and to the pressure of the officers; but the feeling, the atmosphere
of the ship herself undoubtedly bears a share in it also.
347.
LIBRARIES, MUSEUMS AND GALLERIES
348.
The studious associations of a library are readily comprehensible, but
those of museums and picture-galleries are much more varied, as might be
expected. In both these latter cases the influence is principally from pictures
or the objects shown, and consequently our discussion of it is part of a later
chapter. As far as the influence of the actual buildings is concerned, apart
from the objects exhibited in them, the result is a little unexpected, for a
prominent feature is a quite overwhelming sense of fatigue and boredom. It is
evident that the chief constituent in the minds of the majority of the visitors
is the feeling that they know that they ought to admire or to be interested in
this or that, whereas as a matter of fact they are quite unable to achieve the
least real admiration or interest.
349.
THE STOCK-YARDS OF CHICAGO
350.
The awful emanations from the stock-yards in Chicago, and the effect they
produce on those who are so unfortunate as to live anywhere near them, have
often been mentioned in Theosophical literature. Mrs. Besant herself has
described how on her first visit she felt the terrible pall of depression which
they cause while she was yet in the train many miles from Chicago; and though
other people, less sensitive than she, might not be able to detect it so
readily, there can be no doubt that its influence lies heavily upon them
whenever they draw near to the theatre of that awful iniquity. On that spot
millions of creatures have been slaughtered and every one of them has added to
its radiations its own feelings of rage and pain and fear and the sense of
injustice; and out of it all has been formed one of the blackest clouds of
horror at present existing in the world.
351.
In this case the results of the influence are commonly known, and it is
impossible for anyone to profess incredulity. The low level of morality and the
exceeding brutality of the slaughterman are matters of notoriety. In many of the
murders committed in that dreadful neighbourhood the doctors have been able to
recognise a peculiar twist of the knife which is used only by slaughtermen, and
the very children in the streets play no games but games of killing. When the
world becomes really civilised men will look back with incredulous horror upon
such scenes as these, and will ask how it could have been possible that people
who in other respects seem to have had some gleams of humanity and common sense,
could permit so appalling a blot upon their honour as is the very existence of
this accursed thing in their midst.
352.
SPECIAL PLACES
353.
Any spot where some ceremony has been frequently repeated, especially if
in connection with it a high ideal has been set up, is always charged with a
decided influence. For example, the hamlet of Oberammergau, where for many years
at set intervals the Passion Play has been reproduced, is full of thought-forms
of the previous performances, which react powerfully upon those who are
preparing themselves to take part in a modern representation. An extraordinary
sense of reality and of the deepest earnestness is felt by all those who assist,
and it reacts even upon the comparatively careless tourist, to whom the whole
thing is simply an exhibition. In the same way the magnificent ideals of Wagner
are prominent in the atmosphere of Bayreuth, and they make a performance there a
totally different thing from one by identically the same players anywhere else.
354.
SACRED MOUNTAINS
355.
There are instances in which the influence attached to a special place is
non-human. This is usually the case with the many sacred mountains of the world.
I have described in a previous chapter the great angels who inhabit the summit
of the mountain of Slieve-na-Mon in Ireland. It is their presence which makes
the spot sacred, and they perpetuate the influence of the holier magic of the
leaders of the Tuatha-de-Danaan, which they ordained to remain until the day of
the future greatness of Ireland shall come, and its part in the mighty drama of
empire shall be made clear.
356.
I have several times visited a sacred mountain of a different type--
Adam' s Peak in Ceylon. The remarkable thing about this peak is that it is held
as a sacred spot by people of all the various religions of the Island. The
Buddhists give to the temple on its summit the name of the shrine of the Sripada
or holy footprint, and their story is that when the Lord BUDDHA visited Ceylon
in His astral body (He was never there in the physical) He paid a visit to the
tutelary genius of that mountain, who is called by the people Saman Deviyo. Just
as He was about to depart, Saman Deviyo asked Him as a favour to leave on that
spot some permanent memory of His visit, and the BUDDHA in response is alleged
to have pressed His foot upon the solid rock, utilising some force which made
upon it a definite imprint or indentation.
357.
The story goes on to say that Saman Deviyo, in order that this holy
footprint should never be defiled by the touch of man, and that the magnetism
radiating from it should be preserved, covered it with a huge cone of rock,
which makes the present summit of the mountain. On the top of this cone a hollow
has been made which roughly resembles a huge foot, and it seems probable that
some of the more ignorant worshippers believe that to be the actual mark made by
the Lord BUDDHA; but all the monks who know emphatically deny that, and point to
the fact that this is not only enormously too large to be a human footprint, but
that it is also quite obviously artificial.
358.
They explain that it is made there simply to indicate the exact spot
under which the true footprint lies, and they point to the fact that there is
unquestionably a crack running all round the rock at some distance below the
summit. The idea of a sacred footprint on that summit seems to be common to the
various religions, but while the Buddhists hold it to be that of the Lord
BUDDHA, the Tamil inhabitants of the Island suppose it to be one of the numerous
footprints of Vishnu, and the Christians and the Muhammadans attribute it to
Adam-- whence the name Adam' s Peak.
359.
But it is said that long before any of these religions had penetrated to
the Island, long before the time of the Lord BUDDHA Himself, this peak was
already sacred to Saman Deviyo, to whom the deepest reverence is still paid by
the inhabitants-- as indeed it well may be, since He belongs to one of the great
orders of the angels who rank near to the highest among the Adepts. Although His
work is of a nature entirely different from ours, He also obeys the Head of the
Great Occult Hierarchy; He also is one of the Great White Brotherhood which
exists only for the purpose of forwarding the evolution of the world.
360.
The presence of so great a being naturally sheds a powerful influence
over the mountain and its neighbourhood, and most of all over its summit, so
that there is emphatically a reality behind to account for the joyous enthusiasm
so freely manifested by the pilgrims. Here also, as at other shrines, we have in
addition to this the effect of the feeling of devotion with which successive
generations of pilgrims have impregnated the place, but though that cannot but
be powerful, it is yet in this case completely overshadowed by the original and
ever-present influence of the mighty entity who has done His work and kept His
guard there for so many thousands of years.
361.
SACRED RIVERS
362.
There are sacred rivers also-- the Ganges, for example. The idea is that
some great person of old has magnetised the source of the river with such power
that all the water that henceforth flows out from that source is in a true sense
holy water, bearing with it his influence and his blessing. This is not an
impossibility, though it would require either a great reserve of power in the
beginning or some arrangement for a frequent repetition. The process is simple
and comprehensible; the only difficulty is what may be called the size of the
operation. But what would be beyond the power of the ordinary man might possibly
be quite easy to some one at a much higher level.
363.
CHAPTER VIII
364.
BY CEREMONIES
365.
IN considering the influence exerted by our cathedrals and churches we
have hitherto concerned ourselves with that which radiates from their walls.
That is, however, only one small part of the effect that they are intended to
produce upon the community-- only incidental to the great plan of the Founder of
the religion; and even that plan in turn is only part of a still mightier
scheme. Let me try to explain.
366.
THE HIERARCHY
367.
Theosophical students are familiar with the fact that the direction of
the evolution of the world is vested in the Hierarchy of Adepts, working under
one great Leader, and that one of the departments of this government is devoted
to the promotion and management of religion. The official in charge of that
department is called in the East the Bodhisattva, and is known to us in the West
as the Christ, though that is really the title of only one of His incarnations.
The plan of the government is that during each world-period there shall be seven
successive Christs-- one for each root-race. Each of these in succession holds
this office of Bodhisattva, and during His term of office He is in charge of all
the religious thought of the world, not only of that of His own special
root-race; and He may incarnate many times.
368.
To illustrate exactly what is meant, let us take the case of the previous
holder of this office, whom we know as the Lord Gautama. He was technically the
Bodhisattva of the Atlantean or fourth root-race, and in that He incarnated many
times under different names through a period spreading over several hundreds of
thousands of years; but though His special work thus lay with the fourth
root-race, He was in charge of the religions of the whole world, and
consequently He did not neglect the fifth root-race. In the earlier part of the
history of each of its sub-races He appeared and founded a special religion. In
the first sub-race He was the original Vyasa; the name which He bore in the
second sub-race has not been preserved in history. In the third sub-race He was
the original Zoroaster, the first of a long line who bore that name. For the
great religion of Egypt He was Thoth-- called by the Greeks Hermes Trismegistus,
Hermes the Thrice-Greatest, and among the early Greeks of the fourth sub-race He
was Orpheus the Bard, the founder of their mysteries.
369.
In each of such births He drew round Him a number of earnest disciples,
naturally in many cases the same egos over again in new bodies, although He was
steadily adding to their number. The fourth root-race has by no means finished
its evolution, for the majority of the earth' s inhabitants still belong to it--
the vast hosts of Chinese, Tartars, Japanese, Malays and all the undeveloped
peoples of the earth; but it has long passed its prime, the time when it was the
dominant race of the world, and when all the most advanced egos were incarnated
in it. When the glory had finally passed from it the Bodhisattva prepared for
the culminating act of His work, which involves for Him the attainment of that
very high level of Initiation which we call the Buddha-hood and also the
resigning of His office into the hands of His successor.
370.
The preparation required was to bring together into one country, and even
to a great extent into part of that country, all the egos who had been His
special followers in the different lives which lay behind Him.
Then He Himself incarnated among them-- or perhaps more probably
one of His highest disciples incarnated among them and yielded up his body to
the Bodhisattva when the appointed time drew near; and as soon as in that body
He had taken the great Initiation and become the BUDDHA, He went forth to preach
His Law. We must not attach to that word Law the ordinary English meaning, for
it goes very much further than a mere set of commands. We must take it rather to
signify His presentation of the Truth about humanity and its evolution, and His
instructions, based upon that truth, as to how a man should act so as to
co-operate in the scheme of that evolution.
371.
Preaching this Law He drew round Him all the hosts of His old disciples,
and by the tremendous power and magnetism which belonged to Him as the BUDDHA He
enabled large numbers of them to take that fourth step on the Path, to which is
given the name of the Arhat. He spent the rest of His life on earth in preaching
and consolidating this new faith, and when He passed away from physical life He
definitely handed over His office of director of religion to His successor, whom
we call the Lord Maitreya-- the Great One who is honoured all through India
under the name of Krishna and throughout the Christian world as Jesus the
Christ. No Theosophical student will be confused by this last expression, for he
knows that the Christ, who is the new Bodhisattva, took the body of the disciple
Jesus, and held it for the last three years of its life in order to found the
Christian religion. After its death He continued for some years to teach His
more immediate disciples from the astral world, and from that time to this He
has employed that disciple Jesus (now Himself a Master) to watch over and guide
as far as may be the destinies of His Church.
372.
Immediately upon taking over the office, the Lord Maitreya availed
Himself of the extraordinarily good conditions left behind Him by the BUDDHA to
make several simultaneous attempts to promote the religious progress of the
world. He not only descended into an almost immediate incarnation Himself, but
He at the same time employed a number of those who had attained the Arhat level
under the Lord BUDDHA, and were now ready to take rebirth at once. From this
band of disciples came those whom we call Laotse and Confucius, who were sent to
incarnate in China. From them also came Plato, and from among their followers
Phidias and many another of the greatest of the Greeks.
373.
Within the same area of time came the great philosopher Pythagoras, who
is now our Master K. H. He was not one of the immediate attendants of the Lord
BUDDHA, as He had already attained the Arhat level and was needed for work
elsewhere, but He travelled over to India to see Him and to receive His
blessing. He also is upon the line of the Bodhisattva; and may be regarded as
one of His foremost lieutenants.
374.
Simultaneously with all these efforts the Lord Maitreya Himself
incarnated as Krishna, and led in India a very wonderful life, upon which is
founded the devotional aspect of the religion of that country, which shows us
perhaps the most fervent examples of utter devotion to be seen anywhere in the
world. This great incarnation must not be confounded with that of the Krishna
described in the Mahabharata; the latter was a warrior and a statesman,
and lived some two thousand five hundred years before the time of which we are
speaking.
375.
Along with this came another great incarnation-- not this time from the
department of religion, but rather from one the departments of organisation--
the great Shankaracharya, who travelled over India, founding the four chief
monasteries and the Sannyasi order. Some confusion has been created by the fact
that each of the long line of those who have since stood at the head of the
monastic organisations has also taken the title of Shankaracharya, so that to
speak of Shankaracharya is like speaking of the Pope without indicating which
particular holder of the Papal Chair is intended. The great Founder to whom we
have referred must not be confused with the better known holder of the office
who some seven hundred years after Christ wrote a voluminous series of
commentaries on the Bhagavad-Gita and some of the Upanishads.
376.
THE THREE PATHS
377.
These three great Teachers, who followed one another so quickly in India,
furnished between them a fresh impulse along each of the three paths. The BUDDHA
founded a religion giving minute directions for daily life, such as would be
needed by those who should follow the path of action, while Shankaracharya
provided the metaphysical teaching for those to whom the path is wisdom, and the
Lord Maitreya (manifesting as Krishna) provided a supreme object of devotion for
those to whom that is the most direct road to the truth. But Christianity must
be considered as the first effort of the new Bodhisattva to build a religion
which should go abroad into new countries, for His work as Krishna had been
intended especially for India. For those who penetrate behind the external
manifestation to the inner and mystical meaning, it will be significant that the
ray or type to which belong the Lord BUDDHA, the Bodhisattva and our Master K.
H. is in a special sense a manifestation of the second aspect of the Solar
Deity-- the second person of the Blessed Trinity.
378.
Religion has an objective side to it; it acts not only from within by
stirring up the hearts and minds of its votaries, but also from without by
arranging that uplifting and refining influences shall play constantly upon
their various vehicles. The temple or the church is meant to be not merely a
place of worship, but also a centre of magnetism, through which spiritual forces
can be poured out upon the district surrounding it. People often forget that
even the Great Ones must do their work subject to the laws of nature, and that
it is for them an actual duty to economise their force as much as possible, and
therefore to do whatever they have to do in the easiest possible manner.
379.
In this case, for example, if the object be to let spiritual force shine
forth over a certain district, it would not be economical to pour it down
indiscriminately everywhere, like rain, since that would require that the
miracle of its materialisation to a lower level should be performed in millions
of places simultaneously, once for every drop, as it were, and each representing
a mighty effort. Far simpler would it be to establish at certain points definite
magnetic centres, where the machinery of such materialisation should be
permanently set up, so that by pouring in only a little force from above it
should instantly be spread abroad over a considerable area.
380.
This had been achieved in earlier religions by the establishment of
strongly magnetised centres, such as are offered by the image or by the lingam
in a Hindu temple, by the altar of the sacred fire among the Parsis, or by the
statue of the Lord BUDDHA among the Buddhists. As each worshipper comes before
one of these symbols and pours himself out in devotion or gratitude, he not only
draws down the answering force upon himself, but also causes a certain radiation
upon those for some distance round him.
381.
In founding the religion of Christianity the Bodhisattva tried a new
experiment with the view of securing at least once daily a much more thorough
and effective distribution of spiritual force. The fact that new experiments of
this sort may be tried-- that though the splendid system of the
Hierarchy is unalterably founded upon the Rock of Ages, it yet permits so much
of freedom to its Officials-- is surely of deepest interest. It shows us that
that organisation which is in all the world the most utterly conservative is yet
at the same time amazingly liberal, and that the oldest form of government is
also the most adaptable. It is only in reference to the august Head of the
Hierarchy that we can use to the fullest extent those grand old words of a
Collect of the Church of England: “In His service is perfect freedom.”
382.
Perhaps the most readily comprehensible way of explaining this new scheme
will be to describe the way in which I myself was first enabled to see something
of the details of its working. But first I must say a few words as to the
present condition of the Christian Church.
383.
As we see that Church now, it is but a poor representation of what its
Founder meant it to be. Originally it had its higher mysteries, like all other
faiths, and its three stages of purification, illumination and perfection,
through which its children had to pass. With the expulsion as heretics of the
great Gnostic doctors this aspect of the truth was lost to the Church, and the
only idea which it now places before its members is the first of the three
stages, and even that not understandingly. Origen, one of the greatest men that
it has ever produced, described very clearly the two kinds of Christianity-- the
somatic or physical, and the spiritual-- saying that the former is meant only to
attract the ignorant masses, but that the latter is for those who know. In these
days the Church has forgotten that true spiritual and higher side of her
teaching, and has busied herself with pitiful attempts to explain that there is
somehow or other a spiritual side to the lower teaching which is practically all
that she has left.
384.
CHRISTIAN MAGIC
385.
Nevertheless, and in spite of all this, the old magic which was
instituted by her Founder is still working and effective; so even in these days
of her decadence she is still definitely under guidance and control. There is
still a real and a vital power in the sacraments when truly performed-- the
power of the Solar Deity Himself-- and it comes through Him whom we call the
Master Jesus, this being His special department.
386.
It was not He, but the Christ-- the Lord Maitreya-- who founded the
religion, but nevertheless the special charge of Christianity has been given
into the hands of Him who yielded His body for the work of the Founder. Belief
in His personal interest in the Christian Church has almost died out in many
branches of it; the members think of him as a Teacher who lived two thousand
years ago rather than as an active power in the Church to-day. They have
forgotten that He is still a living force, a real presence-- truly with us
always, even to the end of the world, as He has said. Not God in the idolatrous
sense, yet the channel through which the Divine power has reached many
millions-- the official in charge of the devotional department of the work of
the Christ.
387.
The Church has turned aside widely from the course originally marked out
for it. It was meant to meet all types; now it meets only one, and that very
imperfectly. The reconstruction of the links must come, and as intellectual
activity is the sign of our time and of the latest sub-race, the intellectual
revival which shows itself in the higher criticism has for its very purpose that
of enabling religion to meet another type of mind. If only the priests and the
teachers had the advantage of direct knowledge, they would be able to deal with
and to help their people in this crisis-- to guide their intellectual activity
by means of their own knowledge of the truth, and to keep alive in the hearts of
their flock the spirituality without which the intellectual effort can be but
barren.
388.
Not only has the Church almost entirely forgotten the original doctrine
taught by her Founder, but most of her priests have now little conception of the
real meaning and power of the ceremonies which they have to perform. It is
probable that the Christ foresaw that this would happen, for He has carefully
arranged that the ceremonies should work even though neither celebrants nor
people have any intelligent comprehension of their methods or their results. It
would be difficult to explain the outline of His plan to the average Christian;
to the Theosophist it ought to be more readily comprehensible, because he is
already familiar with some of the general ideas involved in it.
389.
We who are students have often heard of the great reservoir of force
which is constantly being filled by the Nirmanakayas in order that its contents
may be utilised by members of the Adept Hierarchy and Their pupils for the
helping of the evolution of mankind. The arrangement made by the Christ with
regard to His religion was that a kind of special compartment of that reservoir
should be reserved for its use, and that a certain set of officials should be
empowered by the use of certain special ceremonies, certain words and signs of
power, to draw upon it for the spiritual benefit of their people.
390.
The scheme adopted for passing on the power is what is called ordination,
and thus we see at once the real meaning of the doctrine of the apostolic
succession, about which there has been so much of argument. I myself held
strongly to that doctrine while officiating as a priest of the Church; but when
through the study of Theosophy I came to understand religion better and to take
a far wider view of life, I began to doubt whether in reality the succession
meant so much as we of the ritualistic party had supposed. With still further
study however, I was rejoiced to find that there was a real foundation for the
doctrine, and that it meant even much more than our highest schools had ever
taught.
391.
THE MASS
392.
My attention was first called to this by watching the effect produced by
the celebration of the Mass in a Roman Catholic Church in a little village in
Sicily. Those who know that most beautiful of islands will understand that one
does not meet with the Roman Catholic Church there in its most intellectual
form, and neither the priest nor the people could be described as especially
highly developed; yet the quite ordinary celebration of the Mass was a
magnificent display of the application of occult force.
393.
At the moment of consecration the Host glowed with the most dazzling
brightness; it became in fact a veritable sun to the eye of the clairvoyant, and
as the priest lifted it above the heads of the people I noticed that two
distinct varieties of spiritual force poured forth from it, which might perhaps
be taken as roughly corresponding to the light of the sun and the streamers of
his corona. The first rayed out impartially in all directions upon all the
people in the church; indeed, it penetrated the walls of the church as though
they were not there, and influenced a considerable section of the surrounding
country.
394.
This force was of the nature of a strong stimulus and, its action was
strongest of all in the intuitional world, though it was also exceedingly
powerful in the three higher subdivisions of the mental world. Its activity was
marked in the first, second and third subdivisions of the astral also, but this
was a reflection of the mental, or perhaps an effect produced by sympathetic
vibration. Its effect upon the people who came within the range of its influence
was proportionate to their development. In a very few cases (where there was
some slight intuitional development) it acted as a powerful stimulant, doubling
or trebling for a time the amount of activity in those intuitional bodies and
the radiance which they were capable of emitting. But forasmuch as in most
people the intuitional matter was as yet almost entirely dormant, its chief
effect was produced upon the causal bodies of the inhabitants.
395.
Most of them, again, were awake and partially responsive only as far as
the matter of the third subdivision of the mental world was concerned, and
therefore they missed much of the advantage that they might have gained if the
higher parts of their causal bodies had been in full activity. But at any rate
every ego within reach, without exception, received a distinct impetus and a
distinct benefit from that act of consecration, little though he knew or recked
of what was being done.
396.
The astral vibrations also, though much fainter, produced a far-reaching
effect, for at least the astral bodies, of the Sicilians are usually thoroughly
well-developed so that it is not difficult to stir their emotions. Many people
far away from the church, walking along the village street or pursuing their
various avocations upon the lonely hill-sides, felt for a moment a thrill of
affection or devotion, as this great wave of spiritual peace and strength passed
over the country-side, though assuredly they never dreamt of connecting it with
the Mass which was being celebrated in their little cathedral.
397.
It at once becomes evident that we are here in the presence of a grand
and far-reaching scheme. Clearly one of the great objects, perhaps the principal
object, of the daily celebration of the Mass is that every one within reach of
it shall receive at least once each day one of these electric shocks which are
so well calculated to promote any growth of which he is capable. Such an
outpouring of force brings to each person whatever he has made himself capable
of receiving; but even the quite undeveloped and ignorant cannot but be somewhat
the better for the passing touch of a noble emotion, while for the few more
advanced it means a spiritual uplifting the value of which it would be difficult
to exaggerate.
398.
I said that there was a second effect, which I compared to the streamers
of the sun' s corona. The light which I have just described poured forth
impartially upon all, the just and the unjust, the believers and the scoffers.
But this second force was called into activity only in response to a strong
feeling of devotion on the part of an individual. At the elevation of the Host
all members of the congregation duly prostrated themselves-- some apparently as
a mere matter of habit, but some also with a strong upwelling of deep devotional
feeling.
399.
The effect as seen by clairvoyant sight was most striking and profoundly
impressive, for to each of these latter there darted from the uplifted Host a
ray of fire, which set the higher part of the astral body of the recipient
glowing with the most intense ecstasy. Through the astral body, by reason of its
close relation with it, the intuitional vehicle was also strongly affected; and
although in none of these peasants could it be said to be in any way awakened,
its growth within its shell was unquestionably distinctly stimulated, and its
capability of instinctively influencing the astral was enhanced. For while the
awakened intuition can consciously mould and direct the astral, there is a great
storehouse of force in even the most undeveloped intuitional vehicle, and this
shines out upon and through the astral body, even though it be unconsciously and
automatically.
400.
I was naturally intensely interested in this phenomenon, and I made a
point of attending various functions at different churches in order to learn
whether what I had seen on this occasion was invariable, or, if it varied, when
and under what conditions. I found that at every celebration the same results
were produced, and the two forces which I have tried to describe were always in
evidence-- the first apparently without any appreciable variation, but the
display of the second depending upon the number of really devotional people who
formed part of the congregation.
401.
The elevation of the Host immediately after its consecration was not the
only occasion upon which this display of force took place. When the benediction
was given with the Blessed Sacrament exactly the same thing happened. On several
occasions I followed the procession of the Host through the streets, and every
time that a halt was made at some half-ruined church and the benediction was
given from its steps, precisely the same double phenomenon was produced. I
observed that the reserved Host upon the altar of the church was all day long
steadily pouring forth the former of the two influences, though not so strongly
as at the moment of elevation or benediction. One might say that the light
glowed upon the altar without ceasing, but shone forth as a sun at those moments
of special effort. The action of the second forces, the second ray of light,
could also be evoked from the reserved Sacrament upon the altar, apparently at
any time, though it seemed to me somewhat less vivid than the outpouring
immediately after the consecration.
402.
Everything connected with the Host-- the tabernacle, the monstrance, the
altar itself, the priest' s vestments, the insulating humeral veil, the chalice
and paten-- all were strongly charged with this tremendous magnetism, and all
were radiating it forth, each in its degree.
403.
A third effect is that which is produced upon the communicant. He who
receives into his body a part of that dazzling centre, from which flow the light
and the fire, becomes himself for the time a similar centre, and radiates power
in his turn. The tremendous waves of force which he has thus drawn into the
closest possible association with himself cannot but seriously influence his
higher bodies. For the time these waves raise his vibrations into harmony with
themselves, thus producing a feeling of intense exaltation. This, however, is a
considerable strain upon his various vehicles, which naturally tend gradually to
fall back again to their normal rates. For a long time the indescribably vivid
higher influence struggles against this tendency to slow down, but the dead
weight of the comparatively enormous mass of the man' s own ordinary undulations
acts as a drag upon even its tremendous energy, and gradually brings it and
themselves down to the common level. But undoubtedly every such experience draws
the man just an infinitesimal fraction higher than he was before. He has been
for a few moments or even for a few hours in direct contact with the forces of a
world far higher than any that he himself can otherwise touch.
404.
Naturally, having watched all this, I then proceeded to make further
investigations as to how far this outflowing of force was affected by the
character, the knowledge or the intention of the priest. I may sum up briefly
the results of the examination of a large number of cases in the form of two or
three axioms, which will no doubt at first sight seem surprising to many of my
readers.
405.
ORDINATION
406.
First, only those priests who have been lawfully ordained, and have the
apostolic succession, can produce this effect at all. Other men, not being part
of this definite organisation, cannot perform this feat, no matter how devoted
or good or saintly they may be. Secondly, neither the character of the priest,
nor his knowledge, nor ignorance as to what he is really doing, affects the
result in any way whatever.
407.
If one thinks of it, neither of these statements ought to seem to us in
any way astonishing, since it is obviously a question of being able to perform a
certain action, and only those who have passed through a certain ceremony have
received the gift of the ability to perform it.
Just in the same way, in order to be able to speak to a certain set
of people one must know their language, and a man who does not know that
language cannot communicate with them, no matter how good and earnest and
devoted he may be. Also, his ability to communicate with them is not affected by
his private character, but only by the one fact that he has, or has not, the
power to speak to them which is conferred by a knowledge of their language. I do
not for a moment say that these other considerations are without their due
effect; I shall speak of that later, but what I do say is that no one can draw
upon this particular reservoir unless he has received the power to do so which
comes from a due appointment given according to the direction left by the
Christ.
408.
I think that we can see a very good reason why precisely this arrangement
has been made. Some plan was needed which should put a splendid outpouring of
force within the reach of every one simultaneously in thousands of churches all
over the world. I do not say that it might not be possible for a man of most
exceptional power and holiness to call down through the strength of his devotion
an amount of higher force commensurate with that obtained through the rites
which I have described. But men of such exceptional power are always excessively
rare, and it could never at any time of the world' s history have been possible
to find enough of them simultaneously to fill even one thousandth part of the
places where they are needed. But here is a plan whose arrangement is to a
certain extent mechanical; it is ordained that a certain act when duly performed
shall be the recognised method of bringing down the force; and this can be done
with comparatively little training by any one upon whom the power is conferred.
A strong man is needed to pump up water, but any child can turn on a tap. It
needs a strong man to make a door and to hang it in its place, but when it is
once on its hinges any child can open it.
409.
Having myself been a priest of the Church of England, and knowing how
keen are the disputes as to whether that Church really has the apostolic
succession or not, I was naturally interested in discovering whether its priests
possessed this power. I was much pleased to find that they did, and I suppose we
may take that as definitely settling the much-disputed Parker question, and with
it the whole controversy as to the authenticity of the Orders of the Church of
England. I soon found by examination that ministers of what are commonly called
dissenting sects did not possess this power, no matter how good and earnest they
might be. Their goodness and earnestness produced plenty of other effects which
I shall presently describe, but their efforts did not draw upon the
particular reservoir to which I have referred.
410.
I was especially interested in the case of one such minister whom I knew
personally to be a good and devout man, and also a well-read Theosophist. Here
was a man who knew much more about the real meaning of the act of consecration
than nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand of the priests who
constantly perform it; and yet I am bound to admit that his best effort did not
produce this particular effect, while the others as unquestionably did. (Once
more, of course he produced other things which they did not-- of which more
anon.) That at first somewhat surprised me, but I soon saw that it could not
have been otherwise. Suppose, for example, that a certain sum of money is left
by a rich Freemason for distribution among his poorer brethren, the law would
never sanction the division of that money among any others than the Freemasons
for whom it was intended; and the fact that other poor people outside the
Masonic body might be more devout or more deserving would not weigh with it in
the slightest degree.
411.
Another point which interested me greatly was the endeavour to discover
to what extent, if at all, the intention of the priest affected the result
produced. In the Roman Church I found many priests who went through the ceremony
somewhat mechanically, and as a matter of daily duty, without any decided
thought on the subject; but whether from ingrained reverence or from long habit,
they always seemed to recover themselves just before the moment of consecration
and to perform that act with a definite intention.
412.
THE ANGLICAN CHURCH
413.
I turned then to what is called the Low Church division of the Anglican
community to see what would happen with them, because I knew that many of them
would reject altogether the name of priest, and though they might follow the
rubric in performing the act of consecration, their intention in doing it would
be exactly the same as that of ministers of various denominations outside the
Church. Yet I found that the Low Churchman could and did produce the effect, and
that the others outside did not. Hence I infer that the ` intention' which is
always said to be required must be no more than the intention to do whatever the
Church means, without reference to the private opinion of the particular priest
as to what that meaning is. I have no doubt that many people will think that all
this ought to be quite differently arranged, but I can only report faithfully
what my investigations have shown me to be the fact.
414.
I must not for a moment be understood as saying that the devotion and
earnestness, the knowledge and the good character of the officiant make no
difference. They make a great difference; but they do not affect the power to
draw from that particular reservoir. When the priest is earnest and devoted his
whole feeling radiates out upon his people and calls forth similar feelings in
such of them as are capable of expressing them. Also his devotion calls down its
inevitable response, as shown in the illustration in Thought-Forms, and
the down-pouring of force thus evoked benefits his congregation as well as
himself; so that a priest who throws his heart and soul into the work which he
does may be said to bring a double blessing upon his people, though the second
class of influence can scarcely be considered as being of the same order of
magnitude as the first. This second outpouring, which is drawn down by devotion
itself, is of course to be found just as often outside the Church as within it.
415.
Another factor to be taken into account is the feeling of the
congregation. If their feeling is devout and reverent it is of immense help to
their teacher, and it enormously increases the amount of spiritual energy poured
down as a response to devotion. The average intellectual level of the
congregation is also a matter to be considered, for a man who is intelligent as
well as pious has within him a devotion of a higher order than his more ignorant
brother, and is therefore able to evoke a fuller response. On the other hand in
many places of worship where much is made of the exercise of the intellectual
faculties-- where for example the sermon and not the service is thought of as
the principal feature-- there is scarcely any real devotion, but instead of it a
horrible spirit of criticism and of spiritual pride which effectually prevents
the unfortunate audience from obtaining any good results at all from what they
regard as their spiritual exercises.
416.
Devotional feeling or carelessness, belief or scepticism on the part of
the congregation make no difference whatever to the downflow from on high when
there is a priest in charge who has the requisite qualifications to draw from
the appointed reservoir. But naturally these factors make a difference as to the
number of rays sent out from the consecrated Host, and so to the general
atmosphere of the Church.
417.
THE MUSIC
418.
Another very important factor in the effect produced is the music which
is used in the course of the service. Those who have read Thought-Forms
will remember the striking drawings that are there given of the enormous and
splendid mental, astral and etheric erections which are built up by the
influence of sound. The general action of sound is a question which I shall take
up in another chapter, touching here only upon that side of it which belongs to
the services of the Church.
419.
Here is another direction, unsuspected by the majority of those who
participate in them, in which these services are capable of producing a
wonderful and powerful effect. The devotion of the Church has always centred
principally round the offering of the Mass as an act of the highest and purest
adoration possible, and consequently the most exalted efforts of its greatest
composers have been in connection with this service also. Here we may see one
more example of the wisdom with which the arrangements were originally made, and
of the crass ineptitude of those who have so blunderingly endeavoured to improve
them.
420.
THE THOUGHT-FORMS
421.
Each of the great services of the Church (and more especially the
celebration of the Eucharist) was originally designed to build up a mighty
ordered form, expressing and surrounding a central idea-- a form which would
facilitate and direct the radiation of the influence upon the entire village
which was grouped round the church. The idea of the service may be said to be a
double one: to receive and distribute the great outpouring of spiritual force,
and to gather up the devotion of the people, and offer it before the throne of
God.
422.
In the case of the Mass as celebrated by the Roman or the Greek Church,
the different parts of the service are grouped round the central act of
consecration distinctly with a view to the symmetry of the great form produced,
as well as to their direct effect upon the worshippers. The alterations made in
the English Prayer Book in 1552 were evidently the work of people who were
ignorant of this side of the question, for they altogether disturbed that
symmetry-- which is one reason why it is an eminently desirable thing for the
Church of England that it should as speedily as possible so arrange its affairs
as to obtain permission to use as an alternative the Mass of King Edward VI
according to the Prayer Book of 1549.
423.
One of the most important effects of the Church Service, both upon the
immediate congregation and upon the surrounding district, has always been the
creation of these beautiful and devotional thought-forms, through which the
downpouring of life and strength from higher worlds can more readily take
effect. These are better made and their efficiency enhanced when a considerable
portion of those who take part in the service do so with intelligent
comprehension, yet even when the devotion is ignorant the result is still
beautiful and uplifting.
424.
Most of the sects, which unhappily broke away from the Church, entirely
lost sight of this inner and more important side of public worship. The idea of
the service offered to God almost disappeared, and its place was largely taken
by the fanatical preaching of narrow theological dogmas which were always
unimportant and frequently ridiculous. Readers have sometimes expressed surprise
that those who write from the occult standpoint should seem so decidedly to
favour the practices of the Church, rather than those of the various sects whose
thought is in many ways more liberal. The reason is shown precisely in this
consideration of the inner side of things on which we are now engaged.
425.
The occult student recognises most fully the value of the effort which
made liberty of conscience and of thought possible; yet he cannot but see that
those who cast aside the splendid old forms and services of the Church lost in
that very act almost the whole of the occult side of their religion, and made of
it essentially a selfish and limited thing-- a question chiefly of “personal
salvation” for the individual, instead of the grateful offering of worship to
God, which is in itself the never-failing channel through which the Divine Love
is poured forth upon all.
426.
The attainment of mental freedom was a necessary step in the process of
human evolution; the clumsy and brutal manner in which it was obtained, and the
foolishness of the excesses into which gross ignorance led its champions, are
responsible for many of the deplorable results which we see at the present day.
The same savage, senseless lust for wanton destruction that moved Cromwell' s
brutal soldiers to break priceless statues and irreplaceable stained glass, has
deprived us also of the valuable effect produced in higher worlds by perpetual
prayers for the dead, and by the practically universal devotion of the common
people to the saints and angels. Then the great mass of the people was
religious-- even though ignorantly religious; now it is frankly and even
boastfully irreligious. Perhaps this transitory stage is a necessary one, but it
can hardly be considered in itself either beautiful or satisfactory.
427.
THE EFFECT OF DEVOTION
428.
No other service has an effect at all comparable to that of the
celebration of the Mass, but the great musical forms may of course appear at any
service where music is used. In all the other services (except indeed the
Catholic Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament) the thought-forms developed and
the general good which is done depend to a great extent upon the devotion of the
people. Now devotion, whether individual or collective, varies much in quality.
The devotion of the primitive savage, for example, is usually greatly mingled
with fear, and the chief idea in his mind in connection with it is to appease a
deity who might otherwise prove vindictive. But little better than this is much
of the devotion of men who consider themselves civilised, for it is a kind of
unholy bargain-- the offering to the Deity of a certain amount of devotion if He
on His side will extend a certain amount of protection or assistance.
429.
Such devotion, being entirely selfish and grasping in its nature,
produces results only in the lower types of astral matter, and exceedingly
unpleasant-looking results they are in many cases. The thought-forms which they
create are often shaped like grappling-hooks, and their forces move always in
closed curves, reacting only upon the man who sends them forth, and bringing
back to him whatever small result they may be able to achieve. The true, pure,
unselfish devotion is an outrush of feeling which never returns to the man who
gave it forth, but constitutes itself in very truth a cosmic force producing
widespread results in higher worlds.
430.
Though the force itself never returns, the man who originates it becomes
the centre of a downpour of divine energy which comes in response, and so in his
act of devotion he has truly blessed himself, even though at the same time he
has also blessed many others as well, and in addition to that has had the
unequalled honour of contributing to the mighty reservoir of the Nirmanakaya.
Anyone who possesses the book Thought-Forms may see in it an attempt to
represent the splendid blue spire made by devotion of this type as it rushes
upwards, and he will readily understand how it opens a way for a definite
outpouring of the divine force of the Solar Deity.
431.
He is pouring forth His wonderful vital energy on every level in every
world, and naturally the outpouring belonging to a higher world is stronger and
fuller and less restricted than that upon the world below. Normally, each wave
of this great force acts in its own world alone, and cannot or does not move
transversely from one world to another; but it is precisely by means of
unselfish thought and feeling, whether it be of devotion or of affection, that a
temporary channel is provided through which the force normally belonging to a
higher world may descend to a lower, and may produce there results
which, without it, could never have come to pass.
432.
Every man who is truly unselfish frequently makes himself such a channel,
though of course on a comparatively small scale; but the mighty act of devotion
of a whole vast congregation, where it is really united, and utterly without
thought of self, produces the same result on an enormously greater scale.
Sometimes though rarely, this occult side of religious services may be seen in
full activity, and no one who has even once had the privilege of seeing such a
splendid manifestation as this can for a moment doubt the hidden side of a
Church service is of an importance infinitely greater than anything purely
physical.
433.
Such an one would see the dazzling blue spiral or dome of the highest
type of astral matter rushing upwards into the sky, far above the image of it in
stone which sometimes crowns the physical edifice in which the worshippers are
gathered; he would see the blinding glory which pours down through it and
spreads out like a great flood of living light over all the surrounding region.
Naturally, the diameter and the height of the spire of devotion determine the
opening made for the descent of the higher life, while the force which expresses
itself in the rate at which the devotional energy rushes upwards has its
relation to the rate at which the corresponding down-pouring can take place. The
sight is indeed a wonderful one, and he who sees it can never doubt again that
the unseen influences are more than the seen, nor can he fail to realise that
the world which goes on its way heedless of the devotional man, or perhaps even
scornful of him, owes to him all the time far more than it knows.
434.
The power of the ordained priest is a reality in other ceremonies than
the celebration of the eucharist. The consecration of the water in the rite of
baptism, or of the holy water which is to be distributed to the faithful or kept
at the entrance of the church, pours into it a strong influence, which enables
it in each case to perform the part assigned to it. The same is true of other
consecrations and benedictions which come in the course of the regular work of
the priest, though in many of these it seems that a somewhat larger proportion
of the effect is produced by the direct magnetism of the priest himself, and the
amount of that of course depends upon the energy and earnestness with which he
performs his part of the ceremony.
435.
HOLY WATER
436.
We shall find it interesting to study the hidden side of some of these
minor services of the Church, and the work done by her priests. Into the making
of holy water, for example, the mesmeric element enters very strongly. The
priest first takes clean water and clean salt, and then proceeds to demagnetise
them, to remove from them any casual exterior influences with which they may
have been permeated. Having done this very thoroughly, he then charges them with
spiritual power, each separately and with many earnest repetitions, and then
finally with further fervent adjurations he casts the salt into the water in the
form of a cross, and the operation is finished.
437.
If this ceremony be properly and carefully performed the water becomes a
highly effective talisman for the special purposes for which it is charged--
that it shall drive away from the man who uses it all worldly and warring
thought, and shall turn him in the direction of purity and devotion. The student
of occultism will readily comprehend how this must be so, and when he sees with
astral sight the discharge of the higher force which takes place when anyone
uses or sprinkles this holy water, he will have no difficulty in realising that
it must be a powerful factor in driving away undesirable thought and feeling,
and quelling all irregular vibrations of the astral and mental bodies.
438.
In every case where the priest does his work the spiritual force flows
through, but he may add greatly to it by the fervour of his own devotion, and
the vividness with which he realises what he is doing.
439.
BAPTISM
440.
The sacrament of baptism, as originally administered, had a real and
beautiful hidden side. In those older days the water was magnetised with a
special view to the effect of its vibrations upon the higher vehicles, so that
all the germs of good qualities in the unformed astral and mental bodies of the
child might thereby receive a strong stimulus, while at the same time the germs
of evil might be isolated and deadened. The central idea no doubt was to take
this early opportunity of fostering the growth of the good germs, in order that
their development might precede that of the evil-- in order that when at a later
period the latter germs begin to bear their fruit, the good might already be so
far evolved that the control of the evil would be a comparatively easy matter.
441.
This is one side of the baptismal ceremony; it has also another aspect,
as typical of the Initiation towards which it is hoped that the young member of
the Church will direct his steps as he grows up. It is a consecration and a
setting apart of the new set of vehicles to the true expression of the soul
within, and to the service of the Great White Brotherhood; yet is also has its
occult side with regard to these new vehicles themselves, and when the ceremony
is properly and intelligently performed there can be no doubt that its effect is
a powerful one.
442.
UNION IS STRENGTH
443.
The economy and efficiency of the whole scheme of the Lord Maitreya
depend upon the fact that much greater powers can easily be arranged for a small
body of men, who are spiritually prepared to receive them, than could possibly
be universally distributed without a waste of energy which could not be
contemplated for a moment. In the Hindu scheme, for example, every man is a
priest for his own household, and therefore we have to deal with millions of
such priests of all possible varieties of temperament, and not in any way
specially prepared. The scheme of the ordination of priests gives a certain
greater power to a limited number, who have by that very ordination been
specially set apart for the work.
444.
Carrying the same principle a little further, a set of still higher
powers are given to a still smaller number-- the bishops. They are made channels
for the force which confers ordination, and for the much smaller manifestation
of the same force which accompanies the rite of confirmation. The hidden side of
these ceremonies is always one of great interest to the student of the realities
of life. There are many cases now, unfortunately, where all these things are
mere matters of form, and though that does not prevent their result, it does
minimise it; but where the old forms are used as they were meant to be used, the
unseen effect is out of all proportion to anything that is visible in the
physical world.
445.
CONSECRATION
446.
To the bishop also is restricted the power of consecrating a church or a
churchyard, and the occult side of this is a really pretty sight. It is
interesting to watch the growth of the sort of fortification which the officiant
builds as he marches round uttering the prescribed prayers and verses; to note
the expulsion of any ordinary thought-forms which may happen to have been there,
and the substitution for them of the orderly and devotional forms to which
henceforth this building is supposed to be dedicated.
447.
THE BELLS
448.
There are many minor consecrations which are of great interest-- the
blessing of bells, for example. The ringing of bells has a distinct part in the
scheme of the Church,, which in these days seems but little understood. The
modern theory appears to be that they are meant to call people together at the
time when the service is about to be performed, and there is no doubt that in
the Middle Ages, when there were no clocks or watches, they were put to
precisely this use. From this restricted view of the intention of the bell has
grown the idea that anything which makes a noise will serve the purpose, and in
most towns of England Sunday morning is made into a purgatory by the
simultaneous but discordant clanging of a number of unmusical lumps of metal.
449.
At intervals we recognise the true use of the bells, as when we employ
them on great festivals or on occasions of public rejoicing; for a peal of
musical bells, sounding harmonious notes, is the only thing which was
contemplated by the original plan, and these were intended to have a double
influence. Some remnant of this still remains, though but half understood, in
the science of campanology, and those who know the delights of the proper
performance of a trip-bob-major or a grandsire-bob-cator will perhaps be
prepared to hear how singularly perfect and magnificent are the forms which are
made by them.
450.
This then was one of the effects which the ordered ringing of the bells
was intended to produce. It was to throw out a stream of musical forms repeated
over and over again, in precisely the same way, and for precisely the same
purpose, as the Christian monk repeats hundreds of Ave Marias or the
northern Buddhist spends much of his life in reiterating the mystic syllables
Om Mani Padme Hum, or many a Hindu makes a background to his life by
reciting the name Sita Ram.
451.
A particular thought-form and its meaning were in this way impressed over
and over again upon all the astral bodies within hearing. The blessing of the
bells was intended to add an additional quality to these undulations, of
whatever kind they may have been. The ringing of the bells in different order
would naturally produce different forms; but whatever the forms may be, they are
produced by the vibration of the same bells, and if these bells are, to begin
with, strongly charged with a certain type of magnetism, every form made by them
will bear with it something of that influence. It is as though the wind which
wafts to us snatches of music should at the same time bear with it a subtle
perfume. So the bishop who blesses the bells charges them with much the same
intent as he would bless holy water-- with the intention that, wherever this
sound shall go, all evil thought and feeling shall be banished and harmony and
devotion shall prevail-- a real exercise of magic, and quite effective when the
magician does his work properly.
452.
The sacring bell, which is rung inside the church, at the moment of the
reciting of the Tersanctus or the elevation of the Host, has a
different intention. In the huge cathedrals which mediaeval piety erected, it
was impossible for all the worshippers to hear what the priest was saying in the
recitation of the Mass, even before the present system of what is called
“recitation in secret” was adopted. And therefore the server, who is close to
the altar and follows the movements of the priest, has it among his duties to
announce in this way to the congregation when these critical points of the
service are reached.
453.
The bell which is often rung in Hindu or Buddhist temples has yet another
intention. The original thought here was a beautiful and altruistic one. When
some one had just uttered an act of devotion or made an offering, there came
down in reply to that a certain outpouring of spiritual force. This charged the
bell among other objects, and the idea of the man who struck it was that by so
doing he would spread abroad, as far as the sound of the bell could reach, the
vibration of this higher influence while it was still fresh and strong. Now it
is to be feared that the true signification has been so far forgotten that there
are actually some who believe it necessary in order to attract the attention of
their deity!
454.
INCENSE
455.
The same idea carried out in a different way shows itself to us in the
blessing of the incense before it is burned. For the incense has always a dual
significance. It ascends before God as a symbol of the prayers of the people;
but also it spreads through the church as a symbol of the sweet savour of the
blessing of God, and so once more the priest pours into it a holy influence with
the idea that wherever its scent may penetrate, wherever the smallest particle
of that which has been blessed may pass, it shall bear with it a feeling of
peace and of purity, and shall chase away all inharmonious thoughts and
sensations.
456.
Even apart from the blessing, its influence is good, for it is carefully
compounded from gums the undulation-rate of which harmonises perfectly with
spiritual and devotional vibrations, but is distinctly hostile to almost all
others. The magnetisation may merely intensify its natural characteristics, or
may add to it other special oscillations, but in any case its use in connection
with religious ceremonies is always good. The scent of sandalwood has many of
the same characteristics; and the scent of pure attar of roses, though utterly
different in character, has also a good effect.
457.
Another point which is to a large extent new in the scheme prepared by
its Founder for the Christian Church is the utilisation of the enormous force
which exists in united synchronous action. In Hindu or Buddhist temples each man
comes when he chooses, makes his little offering or utters his few words of
prayer and praise, and then retires. Result follows each such effort in
proportion to the energy of real feeling put into it, and in this way a fairly
constant stream of tiny consequences is achieved; but we never get the massive
effect produced by the simultaneous efforts of a congregation of hundreds or
thousands of people, or the heart-stirring vibrations which accompany the
singing of some well known processional hymn.
458.
By thus working together at a service we obtain four separate objects.
(1) Whatever is the aim of the invocatory part of the service, a large number of
people join in asking for it, and so send out a huge thought-form. (2) A
correspondingly large amount of force flows in and stimulates the spiritual
faculties of the people. (3) The simultaneous effort synchronises the
undulations of their bodies, and so makes them more receptive. (4) Their
attention being directed to the same object, they work together and thus
stimulate one another.
459.
SERVICES FOR THE DEAD
460.
What I have said in the earlier part of this chapter will explain a
feature which is often misunderstood by those who ridicule the Church-- the
offering of a Mass with a certain intention, or on behalf of a certain dead
person. The idea is that that person shall benefit by the downpouring of force
which comes on that particular occasion, and undoubtedly he does so benefit, for
the strong thought about him cannot but attract his attention, and when he is in
that way drawn to the church he takes part in the ceremony and enjoys a large
share of its result. Even if he is still in a condition of unconsciousness, as
sometime happens to the newly-dead, the exertion of the priest' s will (or his
earnest prayer, which is the same thing) directs the stream of force towards the
person for whom it is intended. Such an effort is a perfectly legitimate act of
invocatory magic; unfortunately an entirely illegitimate and evil element is
often imported into the transaction by the exaction of a fee for the exercise of
this occult power-- a thing which is always inadmissible.
461.
OTHER RELIGIONS
462.
I have been trying to expound something of the inner meaning of the
ceremonies of the Christian Church-- taking that, in the first place because it
is with that that I am most familiar, and in the second place because it
presents some interesting features which in their present form may be said to be
new ideas imported into the scheme of things by our present Bodhisattva. I do
not wish it to be supposed that I have expounded the Christian ceremonies
because I regard that religion as in any way the best expression of universal
truth; the fact that I, who am one of its priests, have publicly proclaimed
myself a Buddhist, shows clearly that that is not my opinion.
463.
So far as its teaching goes, Christianity is probably more defective than
any other of the great religions, with perhaps the doubtful exception of
Muhammadanism; but that is not because of any neglect on the part of the
original Founder to make His system a perfectly arranged exposition of the
truth, but because most unfortunately the ignorant majority of the early
Christians cast out from among themselves the great Gnostic Doctors, and thereby
left themselves with a sadly mutilated doctrine. The Founder may perhaps have
foreseen this failure, for He supplied His Church with a system of magic which
would continue to work mechanically, even though His people should forget much
of the early meaning of what He had taught them; and it is precisely the force
which has lain behind this mechanical working which explains the remarkable hold
so long maintained by a Church which intellectually has nothing to give to its
followers.
464.
Those who profess other religions must not then suppose that I mean any
disrespect to their faiths because I have chosen for exposition that with which
I am most familiar. The general principles of the action of ceremonial magic
which I have laid down are equally true for all religions, and each must apply
them for himself.
465.
THE ORDERS OF CLERGY
466.
Perhaps I ought to explain, for the benefit of our Indian readers, that
there are three orders among the Christian clergy-- bishops, priests and
deacons. When a man is first ordained he is admitted as a deacon, which means,
practically, a kind of apprentice or assistant priest. He has not yet the power
to consecrate the sacrament, to bless the people or to forgive their sins; he
can, however, baptise children, but even a layman is permitted to do that in
case of emergency. After a year in the diaconate he is eligible for ordination
as a priest, and it is this second ordination which confers upon him the power
to draw forth the force from the reservoir of which I have spoken. To him is
then given the power to consecrate the Host and also various other objects, to
bless the people in the name of the Christ, and to pronounce the forgiveness of
their sins. In addition to all these powers, the bishop has that of ordaining
other priests, and so carrying on the apostolic succession. He alone has the
right to administer the rite of confirmation, and to consecrate a church, that
is to say, to set it apart for the service of God. These three are the only
orders which mean definite grades, separated from one another by ordinations
which confer different powers . You may hear many titles applied to the
Christian clergy, such as those of archbishop, archdeacon, dean or canon, but
these are only the titles of offices, and involve differences of duty, but not
of grade in the sense of spiritual power.
467.
CHAPTER IX
468.
BY SOUNDS
469.
SOUND, COLOUR AND FORM
470.
WE have considered the influences radiating from the walls of our
churches, and the effect of the ceremonies performed within them; it still
remains for us to mention the hidden side of the music of their services.
471.
There are many people who realise that sound always generates colour--
that every note which is played or sung has overtones which produce the effect
of light when seen by an eye even slightly clairvoyant. Not every one, however,
knows that sounds also build form just as thoughts do. Yet this is nevertheless
the case. It was long ago shown that sound gives rise to form in the physical
world by singing a certain note into a tube across the end of which was
stretched a membrane upon which fine sand or lycopodium powder had been cast.
472.
In this way it was proved that each sound threw the sand into a certain
definite shape, and that the same note always produced the same shape. It is
not, however, with forms caused in this way that we are dealing just now, but
with those built up in etheric, astral and mental matter, which persist and
continue in vigorous action long after the sound itself has died away, so far as
physical ears are concerned.
473.
RELIGIOUS MUSIC
474.
Let us take, for example, the hidden side of the performance of a piece
of music-- say the playing of a voluntary upon a church organ. This has its
effect in the physical world upon those of the worshippers who have an ear for
music-- who have educated themselves to understand and to appreciate it. But
many people who do not understand it and have no technical knowledge of the
subject are yet conscious of a very decided effect which it produces upon them.
475.
The clairvoyant student is in no way surprised at this, for he sees that
each piece of music as it is performed upon the organ builds up gradually an
enormous edifice in etheric, astral and mental matter, extending away above the
organ and far through the roof of the church like a kind of castellated
mountain-range, all composed of glorious flashing colours coruscating and
blazing in a most marvellous manner, like the aurora borealis in the arctic
regions. The nature of this differs very much in the case of different
composers. An overture by Wagner makes always a magnificent whole with splendid
splashes of vivid colour, as though he built with mountains of flame for stones;
one of Bach' s fugues builds up a mighty ordered form, bold yet precise, rugged
but symmetrical, with parallel rivulets of silver or gold or ruby running
through it, marking the successive appearances of motif ; one of
Mendelssohn' s Lieder ohne Worte makes a lovely airy erection-- a sort
of castle of filigree work in frosted silver.
476.
In the book called Thought-Forms will be found three
illustrations in colour, in which we have endeavoured to depict the forms built
by pieces of music by Mendelssohn, Gounod and Wagner respectively, and I would
refer the reader to these, for this is one of the cases in which it is quite
impossible to imagine the appearance of the form without actually seeing it or
some representation of it. It may some day be possible to issue a book
containing studies of a number of such forms, for the purpose of careful
examination and comparison. It is evident that the study of such sound forms
would be a science in itself, and one of surpassing interest.
477.
These forms, created by the performers of the music, must not be
confounded with the magnificent thought-form which the composer himself made as
the expression of his own music in the higher worlds. This is a production
worthy of the great mind from which it emanated, and often persists for many
years-- some times even over centuries, if the composer is so far understood and
appreciated that his original conception is strengthened by the thoughts of his
admirers. In the same manner, though with wide difference of type, magnificent
erections are constructed in higher worlds by a great poet' s idea of his epic,
or a great writer' s idea of the subject which he means to put before his
readers-- such, for example, as Wagner' s immortal trilogy of The Ring,
Dante' s grand representation of purgatory and paradise, and Ruskin' s
conception of what art ought to be and of what he desired to make it.
478.
The forms made by the performance of the music persist for a considerable
space of time, varying from one hour to three or four, and all the time they are
sending out radiations which assuredly influence for good every soul within a
radius of half a mile or more. Not that the soul necessarily knows it, nor that
the influence is at all equal in all cases. The sensitive person is greatly
uplifted, while the dull and preoccupied man is but little affected. Still,
however unconsciously, each person must be a little the better for coming under
such an influence. Naturally the undulations extend much farther than the
distance named, but beyond that they grow rapidly weaker, and in a great city
they are soon drowned in the rush of swirling currents which fill the astral
world in such places. In the quiet country amidst the fields and the trees the
edifice lasts proportionately much longer, and its influence has a wider area.
Sometimes in such a case those who can, may see crowds of beautiful
nature-spirits admiring the splendid forms built by the music, and bathing with
delight in the waves of influence which they send forth. It is surely a
beautiful thought that every organist who does his work well, and throws his
whole soul into what he plays, is thus doing far more good than he knows, and
helping many whom perhaps he never saw and never will know in this life.
479.
Another point which is interesting in this connection is the difference
between the edifices built by the same music when rendered upon different
instruments-- as, for example, the difference in appearance of the form built by
a certain piece when played upon a church organ and the same piece executed by
an orchestra or by a violin quartet, or played on a piano. In these cases the
form is identical if the music be equally well rendered, but the whole texture
is different; and naturally, in the case of the violin quartet, the size of the
form is far less, because the volume of sound is so much less. The form built by
the piano is often somewhat larger than that of the violins, but is not so
accurate in detail, and its proportions are less perfect. Again, a decided
difference in texture is visible between the effect of a violin solo and the
same solo played upon the flute.
480.
Surrounding and blending with these forms, although perfectly distinct
from them, are the forms of thought and feeling produced by human beings under
the influence of the music. The size and vividness of these depend upon the
appreciativeness of the audience and the extent to which they are affected.
Sometimes the form built by the sublime conception of a master of harmony stands
alone in its beauty, unattended and unnoticed, because such mental faculties as
the congregation may possess are entirely absorbed in millinery or the
calculations of the money-market; while on the other hand the chain of simple
forms built by the force of some well-known hymn may in some cases be almost
hidden by great blue clouds of devotional feeling evoked from the hearts of the
singers.
481.
Another factor which determines the appearance of the edifice constructed
by a piece of music is the quality of the performance. The thought-form left
hanging over a church after the performance of the Hallelujah Chorus infallibly
and distinctly shows, for example, if the bass solo has been flat, or if any of
the parts have been noticeably weaker than the others, as in either case there
is an obvious failure in the symmetry and clearness of the form. Naturally there
are types of music whose forms are anything but lovely, though even these have
their interest as objects of study. The curious broken shapes which surround an
academy for young ladies at the pupils' practising hour are at least remarkable
and instructive, if not beautiful; and the chains thrown out in lasso-like loops
and curves by the child who is industriously playing scales or arpeggios are by
no means without their charm, when there are no broken or missing links.
482.
SINGING
483.
A song with a chorus constructs a form in which a number of beads are
strung at equal distances upon a silver thread of melody, the size of the beads
of course depending upon the strength of the chorus, just as the luminosity and
beauty of the connecting thread depend upon the voice and expression of the solo
singer, while the form into which the thread is plaited depends upon the
character of the melody. Of great interest also are the variations in metallic
texture produced by different qualities of voice-- the contrast between the
soprano and the tenor, the alto and the bass, and again the difference between a
boy' s voice and a woman' s. Very beautiful also is the intertwining of these
four threads (quite unlike in colour and in texture) in the singing of a glee or
a part-song, or their ordered and yet constantly varied march side by side in
the singing of a hymn.
484.
A processional hymn builds a series of rectangular forms drawn with
mathematical precision, following one another in definite order like the links
of some mighty chain-- or still more (unpoetical though it sounds) like the
carriages of some huge train belonging to the astral world. Very striking also
is the difference in ecclesiastical music, between the broken though glittering
fragments of the Anglican chant, and the splendid glowing uniformity of the
Gregorian tone. Not unlike the latter is the effect produced by the monotonous
chanting of Sanskrit verses by pandits in India.
485.
It may be asked here how far the feeling of the musician himself affects
the form which is built by his efforts. His feelings do not, strictly speaking,
affect the musical structure at all. If the delicacy and brilliancy of his
execution remain the same, it makes no difference to that musical form whether
he himself feels happy or miserable, whether his musings are grave or gay. His
emotions naturally produce vibrant forms in astral matter, just as do those of
his audience, but these merely surround the great shape built by the music, and
in no way interfere with it. His comprehension of the music, and the skill of
his rendering of it, show themselves in the edifice which he constructs. A poor
and merely mechanical performance erects a structure which, though it may be
accurate in form, is deficient in colour and luminosity-- a form which, as
compared with the work of a real musician, gives a curios impression of being
constructed of cheap materials. To obtain really grand results the performer
must forget all about himself, must lose himself utterly in the music as only a
genius may dare to do.
486.
MILITARY MUSIC
487.
The powerful and inspiring effect produced by military music is readily
comprehensible to the clairvoyant who is able to see the long stream of
rhythmically vibrating forms which is left behind by the band as it marches
along at the head of the column. Not only does the regular beat of these
undulations tend to strengthen those of the astral bodies of the soldiers, thus
training them to move more strongly and in unison, but the very forms which are
created themselves radiate strength and courage and material ardour, so that a
body of men which before seemed to be hopelessly disorganised by fatigue, may in
this way be pulled together again and endowed with a considerable accession of
strength.
488.
It is instructive to watch the mechanism of this change. A man who is
utterly exhausted has to a great extent lost the power of co-ordination; the
central will can no longer hold together and govern as it should the different
parts of the body; every physical cell is complaining-- raising its own separate
cry of pain and remonstrance; and the effect upon all the vehicles-- etheric,
astral and mental-- is that a vast number of small separate vortices are set up,
each quivering at its own rate, so that all the bodies are losing their cohesion
and their power to do their work, to bear their part in the life of the man.
Carried to its ultimate extreme this would mean death, but short of that it
means utter disorganisation and the loss of the power to make the muscles obey
the will. When upon the astral body in this condition there comes the impact of
a succession of steady and powerful oscillations, that impact supplies for the
time the place of the will-force which has so sorely slackened. The bodies are
once more brought into synchronous vibration and are held so by the sweep of the
music, thus giving the will-power an opportunity to recover itself and take
again the command which it had so nearly abandoned.
489.
So marked and powerful are the waves sent forth by good military music
that a sensation of positive pleasure is produced in those who move in obedience
to them, just as effective dance-music arouses the desire for synchronous
movement in all who hear it. The type of the instruments employed in military
bands is also of a nature which adds greatly to this effect, the strength and
sharpness of the vibration being obviously of far greater importance for those
purposes than its delicacy or its power to express the finer emotions.
490.
SOUNDS IN NATURE
491.
It is not only the ordered arrangement of sound which we call music which
produces definite form. Every sound in nature has its effect, and in some cases
these effects are of the most remarkable character. The majestic roll of a
thunderstorm creates usually a vast flowing band of colour, while the deafening
crash often calls into temporary existence an arrangement of irregular
radiations from a centre suggestive of an exploded bomb; or sometimes a huge
irregular sphere with great spikes projecting from it in all directions. The
never-ceasing beating of the sea upon the land fringes all earth' s coasts with
an eternal canopy of wavy yet parallel lines of lovely changing colour, rising
into tremendous mountain ranges when the sea is lashed by a storm. The rustling
of the wind among the leaves of the forest covers it with a beautiful iridescent
network, ever rising and falling with gentle wave-like movement, like the
passing of the wind across a field of wheat.
492.
Sometimes this hovering cloud is pierced by curving lines and loops of
light, representing the song of the birds, like fragments of a silver chain cast
forth and ringing melodiously in the air. Of these there is an almost infinite
variety, from the beautiful golden globes produced by the notes of the
campanero, to the amorphous and coarsely-coloured mass which is the result of
the scream of a parrot or of a macaw. The roar of the lion may be seen as well
as heard by those whose eyes are opened; indeed, it is by no means impossible
that some of the wild creatures possess this much of clairvoyance, and that the
terrifying effect which is alleged to be produced by this sound may be largely
owing to the radiations poured forth from the form to which it gives birth.
493.
IN DOMESTIC LIFE
494.
In more domestic life similar effects are observed; the purring cat
surrounds himself with concentric rosy cloud-films which expand constantly
outward until they dissipate, shedding an influence of drowsy contentment and
well-being which tends to reproduce itself in the human beings about him. The
barking dog, on the other hand, shoots forth well defined sharp-pointed
projectiles which strike with a severe shock upon the astral bodies of those in
his neighbourhood; and this is the reason of the extreme nervous irritation
which this constantly repeated sound often produces in sensitive persons. The
sharp, spiteful yap of the terrier discharges a series of forms not unlike the
modern rifle bullet, which pierce the astral body in various directions, and
seriously disturb its economy; while the deep bay of a bloodhound throws off
beads like ostrich-eggs or footballs which are slower in motion and far less
calculated to injure. Some of these canine missiles pierce like sword-thrusts,
while some are duller and heavier, like the blows of a club, and they vary
greatly in strength, but all alike are evil in their action upon the mental and
astral bodies.
495.
The colour of these projectiles is usually some shade of red or brown,
varying with the emotion of the animal and the key in which his voice is
pitched. It is instructive to contrast with these the blunt-ended, clumsy shapes
produced by the lowing of a cow-- forms which have often somewhat the appearance
of logs of wood or fragments of a tree-trunk. A flock of sheep frequently
surrounds itself with a many-pointed yet amorphous cloud of sound which is by no
means unlike the physical dust-cloud which it raises as it moves along. The
cooing of a pair of doves throws off a constant succession of graceful curved
forms like the letter S reversed.
496.
The tones of the human voice also produce their results-- results which
often endure long after the sounds which made them have died away. An angry
ejaculation throws itself forth like a scarlet spear, and many a woman surrounds
herself with an intricate network of hard, brown-grey metallic lines by the
stream of silly meaningless chatter which she ceaselessly babbles forth. Such a
network permits the passage of vibration only at its own low level; it is an
almost perfect barrier against the impact of any of the higher and more
beautiful thoughts and feelings. A glimpse of the astral body of a garrulous
person is thus a striking object-lesson to the student of occultism, and it
teaches him the virtue of speaking only when it is necessary, or when he has
something pleasant and useful to say.
497.
Another instructive comparison is that between the forms produced by
different kinds of laughter. The happy laughter of a child bubbles forth in rosy
curves, making a kind of scalloped balloon shape-- an epicycloid of mirth. The
ceaseless guffaw of the empty-minded causes an explosive effect in an irregular
mass, usually brown or dirty green in colour-- according to the pre-dominant
tint of the aura from which it emanates. The sneering laugh throws out a
shapeless projectile of a dull red colour, usually flecked with brownish green
and bristling with thorny-looking points. The constantly repeated cachinnations
of the self-conscious create a very unpleasant result, surrounding them with
what in appearance and colour resembles the surface of a pool of boiling mud.
The nervous giggles of a school-girl often involve her in an unpleasant
seaweed-like tangle of lines of brown and dull yellow, while the jolly-hearted,
kindly laugh of genuine amusement usually billows out in rounded forms of gold
and green. The consequences flowing from the bad habit of whistling are usually
decidedly unpleasant. If it be soft and really musical it produces an effect not
unlike that of a small flute, but sharper and more metallic: but the ordinary
tuneless horror of the London street-boy sends out a series of small and
piercing projectiles of dirty brown.
498.
NOISES
499.
An enormous number of artificial noises (most of them transcendently
hideous) are constantly being produced all about us, for our so-called
civilisation is surely the noisiest with which earth has ever yet been cursed.
These also have their unseen side, though it is rarely one which is pleasant to
contemplate. The strident screech of a railway engine makes a far more
penetrating and powerful projectile than even the barking of a dog; indeed, it
is surpassed in horror only by the scream of the steam siren which is sometimes
employed to call together the hands at a factory, or by the report of heavy
artillery at close quarters. The railway whistle blows forth a veritable sword,
with the added disintegrating power of a serious electrical shock, and its
effect upon the astral body which is unfortunate enough to be within its reach
is quite comparable to that of a sword-thrust upon the physical body.
Fortunately for us, astral matter possesses many of the properties of a fluid,
so that the wound heals after a few minutes have passed; but the effect of the
shock upon the astral organism disappears by no means so readily.
500.
The flight through the landscape of a train which is not screaming is not
wholly unbeautiful, for the heavy parallel lines which are drawn by the sound of
its onward rush are as it were embroidered by the intermittent spheres or ovals
caused by the puffing of the engine: so that a train seen in the distance
crossing the landscape leaves behind it a temporary appearance of a strip of
Brobdingnagian ribbon with a scalloped edging.
501.
The discharge of one of the great modern cannons is an explosion of sound
just as surely as of gun-powder, and the tremendous radiation of impacts which
it throws out to the radius of a mile or so is calculated to have a very serious
effect upon astral currents and astral bodies. The rattle of rifle or pistol
fire throws out a sheaf of small needles, which are also eminently undesirable
in their effect.
502.
It is abundantly clear that all loud, sharp or sudden sounds should, as
far as possible, be avoided by anyone who wishes to keep his astral and mental
vehicles in good order. This is one among the many reasons which make the life
of the busy city one to be avoided by the occult student, for its perpetual roar
means the ceaseless beating of disintegrating vibrations upon each of his
vehicles, and this is, of course, quite apart from the even more serious play of
sordid passions and emotions which make dwelling in a main street like living
beside an open sewer.
503.
No one who watches the effect of these repeated sound-forms upon the
sensitive astral body can doubt that there must follow from them a serious
permanent result which cannot fail to be to some extent communicated to the
physical nerves. So serious and so certain is this, that I believe that if it
were possible to obtain accurate statistics on such a point, we should find the
length of life much shorter and the percentage of nervous breakdown and insanity
appreciably higher among the inhabitants of a street paved with granite, than
among those who have advantage of asphalt. The value and even the necessity of
quiet is by no means sufficiently appreciated in our modern life. Specially do
we ignore the disastrous effect upon the plastic astral and mental bodies of
children of all this ceaseless, unnecessary noise; yet that is largely
responsible for evils of many kinds and for weaknesses which show themselves
with fatal effect in later life.
504.
There is a yet higher point of view from which all the sounds of nature
blend themselves into one mighty tone-- that which the Chinese authors have
called the KUNG; and this also has its form-- an inexpressible compound or
synthesis of all forms, vast and changeful as the sea, and yet through it all
upholding an average level, just as the sea does, all-penetrating yet all
embracing, the note which represents our earth in the music of the spheres-- the
form which is our petal when the solar system is regarded from that plane where
it is seen all spread out like a lotus.
505.
CHAPTER X
506.
BY PUBLIC OPINION
507.
RACE PREJUDICE
508.
WHEN anything occurs to prevent us from doing or saying exactly what we
should like to do, we are in the habit of congratulating ourselves that thought
at least is free. But this is only another of the many popular delusions. For
the average man thought is by no means free; on the contrary it is conditioned
by a large number of powerful limitations. It is bound by the prejudices of the
nation, the religion, the class to which he happens to belong, and it is only by
a determined and long-continued effort that he can shake himself free from all
these influences, and really think for himself.
509.
These restrictions operate on him in two ways; they modify his opinion
about facts and about actions. Taking the former first, he sees nothing as it
really is, but only as his fellow-countrymen, his co-religionists, or the
members of his caste think it to be. When we come to know more of other races we
shake off our preconceptions concerning them. But we have only to look back a
century to the time of Napoleon, and we shall at once perceive that no
Englishman then could possibly have formed an impartial opinion as to the
character of that remarkable man. Public opinion in England had erected him into
a kind of bogey; nothing was too terrible or too wicked to be believed of him,
and indeed it is doubtful whether the common people really considered him as a
human being at all.
510.
The prepossession against everything French was then so strong that to
say that a man was a Frenchman was to believe him capable of any villainy; and
one cannot but admit that those who had fresh in their minds the unspeakable
crimes of the French Revolution had some justification for such an attitude.
They were too near to the events to be able to see them in proportion; and
because the offscourings of the streets of Paris had contrived to seize upon the
government and to steep themselves in orgies of blood and crime, they thought
that these represented the people of France. It is easy to see how far from the
truth must have been the conception of the Frenchman in the mind of the average
English peasant of that period.
511.
Among our higher classes the century which has passed since then has
produced an entire revolution of feeling, and now we cordially admire our
neighbours across the Channel, because now we know so much more of them. Yet
even now it is not impossible that there may be remote country places in which
something of that old and strongly established prejudice still survives. For the
leading countries of the world are in reality as yet only partially civilised,
and while everywhere the more cultured classes are prepared to receive
foreigners politely, the same can hardly be said of the mill-hands or the
colliers. And there are still parts of Europe where the Jew is hardly regarded
as a human being.
512.
POPULAR PREJUDICE
513.
It needs little argument to show that everywhere among the less cultured
people prejudgments are still strong and utterly unreasonable; but we who think
ourselves above them-- even we need to be careful, lest unconsciously we allow
them to influence us. To stand against a strong popular bias is no easy matter,
and the student of occultism will at once see why this is so. The whole
atmosphere is full of thought-forms and currents of thought, and these are
ceaselessly acting and reacting upon every one of us. The tendency of any
thought-form is to reproduce itself. It is charged with a certain rate of
vibration, and its nature is to influence every mental and astral body with
which it comes into contact in the direction of the same vibration.
514.
There are many matters about which opinion is reasonably equally divided,
as (for example) the angle at which one should wear one' s hat, or whether one
should be a Liberal or a Conservative. Consequently the general average of
thought on these matters is no stronger in one direction than in another; and
about them and other such matters it may be said that thought is comparatively
free. But there are other subjects upon which there is an overwhelming consensus
of public opinion in one direction, and that amounts to so strong a pressure of
a certain set of undulations connected with that subject upon the mental body,
that unless a man is unusually strong and determined he will be swept into the
general current. Even if he is strong enough to resist it, and is upon his guard
against it, the pressure is still there, and its action is still continued, and
if at any time he relaxes his vigilance for a moment, he may find himself
unconsciously warped by it.
515.
I have explained in the second volume of The Inner Life that a
man who allows himself to contract a prejudice of this kind on any subject
causes a hardening of the matter of the mental body in the part of it through
which the oscillations relating to that subject would naturally pass. This acts
upon him in two ways; first, he is unable to see that subject as it really is,
for the vibrations which would otherwise convey an impression of it come against
this callosity of the mental body, and either they cannot penetrate it at all,
or they are so distorted in their passage through it that they convey no real
information. Secondly, the man cannot think truly with regard to that subject,
because the very part of this mental body which he would use in such an effort
is already so hardened as to be entirely inefficient, so that the only way to
overcome the unfairness is to perform a surgical operation upon that wart in the
mental body, and excise it altogether, and to keep for a long time a close watch
upon it to see that it is not growing again. If that watch be not kept, the
steady pressure of the thought-waves of thousands of other people will reproduce
it, and it will be necessary to perform the operation all over again.
516.
POLITICAL PREJUDICE
517.
In many parts of the country there is a vast amount of bitter political
bias. The majority of the people in a district hold one view or the other (it
matters little which), and they find it difficult to imagine that the members of
the opposite party are ordinary human beings at all. They are so sure of their
own point of view that they appear to think that every one else must really hold
it also, and that it is only out of malice prepense that their opponents are
pretending to hold an entirely different view. Yet their own ideas are usually
not arrived at by any process of thought or of weighing two lines of policy, but
are hereditary, precisely as are most men' s religious opinions. There is so
much excitement and unpleasant feeling connected with politics in almost every
country that the wisest course for the student of occultism is to have as little
as possible to do with the whole matter. Not that, if he happens to reside in a
country where he has a vote, he should refuse to use it, as many good people
have done, because of the mass of corruption which sometimes surrounds political
activity of the lower kind. If there is much that is evil in connection with
such affairs, that is all the more reason why every good citizen should use the
power that the system has vested in him (however foolish in itself that system
may be) in favour of what seems to him the right and noble course.
518.
GOVERNMENT
519.
The occult theory of government, of the politics of the State, is
preeminently the common-sense view. The management of a country is as much a
matter of business as the management of a factory or a school. The country has
many points of similarity to a great public school. It exists primarily for the
benefit of its people, and the people are put there in order to learn. The head
of the country makes whatever regulations he considers necessary to secure its
efficiency, and there must be discipline and order and prompt obedience to those
regulations, or there can be no progress. The king is the headmaster. His work
is to exercise sleepless vigilance over the welfare of the school, to employ all
methods in his power to make it the best of schools. Our business is not to
criticise him, but to obey him, and loyally to give our heartiest co-operation
in carrying out whatever he thinks best for the good of the country as a whole.
The business of a government is to govern; the business of its people is to be
good, loyal, law-abiding citizens so as to make that task of government easy.
520.
A king who thinks of or works for fancied private interests of his own,
instead of acting only for his country, is obviously failing to do his work; but
remember that any subject who in politics thinks of or works for supposed
private interests of his own, and not for the good of the country as a whole, is
also equally failing to do his duty as a good citizen. As to the outer
form of a government, almost any form can be made to work satisfactorily if the
people co-operate loyally and unselfishly, forgetting themselves as units and
regarding the country as their unit; but no form of government, however
excellent, can be successful and satisfactory if its people are selfish and
refractory.
521.
RELIGIOUS PREJUDICE
522.
All that I have said of race prejudice is also true of religious
prejudice, which is indeed in many ways even worse than the other. Few men
choose their religion; most people are born into a religion, exactly as they are
born into a race, and they have no valid reason for preferring it to any other
form of faith; but because it happens to be theirs, they arrogantly assume that
it must be better than any other, and despise other people whose karma has led
them into a slightly different environment. Precisely because this partiality is
thus in the air, and because the ordinary man cannot see the pressure of public
opinion, the unfairness steals in upon him unobserved and seems to him quite
natural, and indistinguishable from an opinion which he has formed for himself
on some reasonable grounds.
523.
It is necessary that we should constantly pull ourselves up, and examine
our reasons for the opinions we hold. It is so fatally easy to go with the
current and to accept other men' s ready-made thoughts, instead of thinking for
ourselves. “Almost every one does this, so why should not I?” That is the
feeling of the average man, and yet if we would be just to all, as a student of
occultism must be-- if we seek to know the truth on all subjects, as a student
of occultism should know it-- then we must at all costs root out these
prejudices, and keep a lynx-like watch against their return. We shall find
ourselves in many ways differing from the majority, because the opinions of the
majority are often unjust, ill-conceived, unreliable; but that after all we must
expect, for we are setting before us a high ideal, which as yet does not appeal
to that majority. If we think on all points as it thinks, and act in all ways as
it acts, in what way have we raised ourselves above it, and how can we be
drawing nearer to our goal?
524.
CLASS PREJUDICE
525.
More insidious still perhaps is the class or caste bias. It is so
comforting to feel that we are somehow inherently and generically superior to
everybody else-- that no good feeling or good action can be expected from the
other man, because he is a bloated aristocrat or a member of the
proletariat, as the case may be. Here again, as with all the other
misconceptions, the study of the hidden side of the matter shows us that what is
needed is more knowledge and more charity. The occultist sees a prejudice to be
a congestion of thought; what is necessary therefore is to stir up the thought,
to get to know the people and try to comprehend them, and we shall soon find
that fundamentally there is little difference between us and them.
526.
That there are classes of egos, that some are older and some are younger,
and that some are consequently more ignorant than others, it is impossible to
deny, for that is a fact in nature, as has been shown by our study of the order
in which different divisions of mankind arrived from the moon-chain upon the
earth-chain. But there is a common humanity which underlies all the classes, and
to this we may always appeal with the certainty of obtaining some response.
527.
Those who feel sure that they belong to the higher class of egos must
prove their nobility by great tolerance and charity towards the less fortunate
younger members of the human race; noblesse oblige, and if they are the
nobility they must act accordingly. A prejudice is usually so transparently
foolish that when a man has freed himself from it he cannot believe that he ever
really felt it, cannot understand how any of his fellow-creatures who have any
pretence to reasoning powers can be subject to it. So there is a certain danger
that he himself may become intolerant in turn-- intolerant of intolerance. The
occultist, however, who sees the mighty combined thought-form and understands
the almost irresistible power, and yet the curious insidiousness of its action,
understands very well the difficulty of resisting it-- the difficulty even of
escaping sufficiently from its thraldom to realise that there is anything to
resist.
528.
PUBLIC STANDARDS
529.
Fortunately this almost irresistible pressure of public opinion is not
always wrong. In certain directions it is founded not upon the cumulative
ignorance of the race but on its cumulative knowledge-- on the experience of
generations that have gone before us. Public opinion is undoubtedly in the right
when it condemns murder or robbery; and countries in which public opinion has
not yet advanced so far as to express itself clearly on these points are
universally admitted to be in the rearguard of civilisation. There are still in
the world communities in which law and order are only beginning to exist, and
violence is still the deciding factor in all disputes; but those countries are
universally recognised as undesirable places of habitation and as lagging behind
the progress of the world.
530.
There are other crimes besides robbery and murder which are universally
condemned in all civilised countries, and in all these directions the pressure
exerted by public opinion is a pressure in the right direction, tending to
restrain those erratic spirits who might otherwise think only of their own
desires and not at all of the welfare of the community.
531.
The occultist, seeing so much more of what is really happening,
establishes for himself a far more exacting code of morals than does the
ordinary man. Many things which the ordinary man would do, and constantly does
do, without thinking twice about them, the occultist would not permit himself to
do under any consideration, because he sees their effects in other worlds, which
are hidden from the less developed man. This is a general rule, though here and
there we meet with exceptions in which the occultist, who understands the case,
will take steps which the ordinary man would fear to take. This is because his
action is based upon knowledge, because he sees what he is doing, while the
other man is acting only according to custom.
532.
The great laws of morality are universal, but temporary and local customs
are often only ridiculous. There are still many people to whom it is a heinous
crime to go for a walk on a Sunday or to play a game of cards. At such
restrictions the occultist smiles, though he is careful not to hurt the feelings
of those to whom such quaint and unnatural regulations seem matters of primary
importance. In many cases, too, the superior knowledge gained by occult study
enables him to see the real meaning of regulations which are misunderstood by
others.
533.
CASTE PREJUDICE
534.
A good example of this is to be seen in regard to the caste regulations
of India. These were established some ten thousand years ago by the Manu in
charge of the fifth root-race, when He had moved down the main stock of that
race from Central Asia to the plains of India. This was after the sub-races had
been sent out to do their colonising work, and the remnant of the main stock of
His race was but small as compared to the teeming millions of Hindustan. Wave
after wave of immigration had swept into the country, and mingled freely with
the ruling race among its previous inhabitants, and He saw that, unless some
definite command was given, the Aryan type, which had been established with so
much trouble, would run great risk of being entirely lost. He therefore issued
instructions that a certain division of His people should be made, and that the
members of the three great types which He thus set apart should remain as they
were, that they should not intermarry with one another or with the subject
races.
535.
This was the only restriction that was laid upon them. Yet this very
simple and harmless regulation has been expanded into a system of iron rigidity
which at the present time interferes at every step and in every direction with
the progress of India as a nation. The command not to intermarry has been
distorted into an order to hold no fellowship with the members of another caste,
not to eat with them, not to accept food from them. Not only that, but the great
race divisions made by the Manu have been again divided and subdivided until we
are now in the presence of not three castes but a great multitude of sub-castes,
all looking down upon one another, all foreign to one another, all restricted
from intermarrying or from eating together. And all this in spite of the fact,
well-known to all, that within the written laws of Manu (though they contain
much which the Manu himself certainly did not say) it is stated quite definitely
that the man of higher caste may eat with one of the lowest caste whom
he knows to be living in a rational and cleanly manner, and that in the
Mahabharata caste is declared to depend not upon birth but upon character.
For example,
536.
One' s own ploughman, an old friend of the family, one' s own cowherd,
one' s own servant, one' s own barber, and whosoever else may come for refuge
and offer service-- from the hands of all such shudras may food be taken.
537.
(Manusmriti, iv, 253.)
538.
After doubt and debate, the Gods decided that the food-gift of the
money-lending shudra who was generous of heart was equal in quality to the
food-gift of the Shrotriya brahmana who knew all the Vedas, but was small of
heart. But the Lord of all creatures came to them and said: Make ye not that
equal which is unequal. The food-gift of that shudra is purified by the generous
heart, while that of the Shrotriya brahmana is befoulded wholly by the lack of
goodwill.
539.
(Manusmriti, iv, 224, 225)
540.
Not birth, nor sacraments, nor study, nor ancestry, can decide whether a
person is twice-born (and to which of the three types of the twice-born he
belongs). Character and conduct only can decide.
541.
(Mahabharata, Vanaparvan, cccxiii, 108).
542.
Yet obvious as all this is, and well known as are the texts to which I
have referred, there are yet thousands of otherwise intelligent people to whom
the regulations made (not by religion but by custom only) are rules as
strict as that of any savage with his taboo. All readily agree as to the
absurdity of the taboo imposed in a savage tribe, whose members believe that to
touch a certain body or to mention a certain name will bring down upon them the
wrath of their deity. Yet all do not realise that the extraordinary taboo which
many otherwise sensible Christians erect round one of the days of the week is in
every respect as utterly irrational. Nor do our Indian friends realise that they
have erected a taboo, exactly similar and quite as unreasonable, about a whole
race of their fellow men, whom they actually label as untouchable, and treat as
though they were scarcely human beings at all. Each race or religion is ready
enough to ridicule the superstitions of others, and yet fails to comprehend the
fact that it has equally foolish superstitions itself.
543.
These very superstitions have done irreparable harm to the cause of
religion, for naturally enough those who oppose the religious idea fasten upon
these weak points and emphasise and exaggerate them out of all proportion,
averring that religion is synonymous with superstition; whereas the truth is
that there is a great body of truth which is common to all the religions, which
is entirely unmarred by superstition, and of the greatest value to the world, as
is clearly proved by Mrs. Besant' s Universal Text Book of Religion and
Morals. This body of teaching is the important part of every religion, and
if the professors of all these faiths could be induced to recognise that and,--
we will not say to abandon their private superstitions, but at least to
recognise them as not binding upon any but themselves, there would be no
difficulty whatever in arriving at a perfect agreement. Each person has an
inalienable right to believe what he chooses, however foolish it may appear to
others; but he can under no circumstances have any possible right to endeavour
to force his particular delusion upon those others, or to persecute them in any
way for declining to accept it.
544.
THE DUTY OF FREEDOM
545.
It therefore becomes the duty of every student of occultism to examine
carefully the religious belief of his country and his period, in order that he
may decide for himself what of it is based upon reason and what is merely a
superstitious accretion. Most men never make any such effort at discrimination,
for they cannot shake themselves free from the influence of the great crowd of
thought-forms which constitute public opinion; and because of those they never
really see the truth at all, nor even know of its existence, being satisfied to
accept instead of it this gigantic thought-form. For the occultist the first
necessity is to attain a clear and unprejudiced view of everything-- to see it
as it is, and not as a number of other people suppose it to be.
546.
In order to secure this clearness of vision, unceasing vigilance is
necessary. For the pressure of
the great hovering thought-cloud upon us is by no means relaxed because we have
once detected and defied its influence. Its pressure is ever present, and quite
unconsciously we shall find ourselves yielding to it in all sorts of minor
matters, even though we keep ourselves clear from it with regard to the greater
points. We were born under its pressure, just as we were born under the pressure
of the atmosphere, and we are just as unconscious of one as of the other. As we
have never seen anything except through its distorted medium, we find a great
difficulty in learning to see clearly, and even in recognising the truth when we
finally come face to face with it; but at least it will gradually help us in our
search for truth to know of this hidden side of public opinion, so that we may
be on our guard against its constant and insidious pressure.
547.
BUSINESS METHODS
548.
For example, this public opinion is at a very low level with regard to
what are called business methods.
549.
In these days of keen competition, things are done and methods are
adopted in business that would have astonished our forefathers. Many of these
actions and methods are perfectly legitimate, and mean nothing more than the
application of shrewder thought and greater cleverness to the work which has to
be done; but unquestionably the boundary of what is legitimate and honourable is
not infrequently overstepped, and means are employed to which the honest
merchant of an earlier age would never have descended.
550.
Indeed, there has come to be a sort of tacit understanding that business
has a morality of its own, and that ordinary standards of integrity are not to
be applied to it. A man at the head of a large mercantile house once said to me:
“If I tried to do business according to the Golden Rule-- ` Do unto others as ye
would that they should do unto you' -- I should simply starve; I should be
bankrupt in a month. The form in which it runs in business matters is much
nearer to that immortalised by David Harum: ` Do unto the other man as he would
like to do unto you, and do it first. ' ” And many others to whom this
remark was quoted frankly agreed with him. Men who in all other respects are
good and honest and honourable feel themselves bound in such matters to do as
others do. “Business is business,” they say, “and the moralist who objects does
not know its conditions,” and under this excuse they treat one another in
business as they would never dream of treating a friend in private life, and
make statements which they know to be false, even though outside of their trade
they may be truthful men.
551.
All our virtues need widening out so that they will cover a greater area.
At first man is frankly selfish, and takes care only of himself. Then he widens
his circle of affection, and loves his family in addition to himself. Later on
he extends a modified form of affection to his neighbours and his tribe, so that
he will no longer rob them, though he is quite willing to join with them in
robbing some other tribe or nation. Even thousands of years ago, if a dispute
arose within a family the head of the family would act as arbitrator and settle
it. We have now extended this as far as our neighbours or our fellow-citizens in
the same State. If we have a dispute with any of them, a magistrate acts as an
arbitrator, in the name of the law of the land. But we have not yet reached a
sufficient state of civilisation to apply the same idea to national quarrels,
though we are just beginning to talk about doing so, and one or two of the most
advanced nations have already settled some difficulties in this way.
552.
In the same way the brothers of a family stand together; in dealing with
one another they will not take advantage, or state what is untrue; but we have
not yet reached the level on which they will be equally honest and open with
those outside of the family, in what they call business. Perhaps if a man meets
another in private life or at a friend' s house, and enters into conversation
with him, he would scorn to tell him a falsehood; yet let the same man enter his
shop or place of business, and his ideas of what is honourable or lawful for him
at once undergo a sad deterioration.
553.
Undoubtedly, people who manage their affairs along the lines of sharp
practice sometimes acquire large fortunes thereby; and those who regard life
superficially, envy them for what they consider their success. But those who
have accustomed themselves to look a little deeper into the underlying
realities, recognise that it is not success at all-- that in truth there has
been no profit in such a transaction, but a very serious loss.
554.
If man is a soul in process of evolution towards perfection, temporarily
stationed here on earth in order to learn certain lessons and to achieve a
certain stage of his progress, it is obvious that the only thing that matters is
to learn those lessons and to make that progress. If man be in truth, as many of
us know he is, a soul that lives for ever, the true interest of the man is the
interest of that soul, not of the body, which is nothing but its temporary
vesture; and anything that hinders the progress of that soul is emphatically a
bad thing for the man, no matter how advantageous it may appear for his body.
555.
The soul is acting through and advancing by means of his vehicles, and
the physical body is only one of these, and that the lowest. Manifestly,
therefore, before we are able to pronounce whether any course of action is
really good or bad for us, we must know how it affects all of these vehicles,
and not only one of them.
556.
Suppose that one man overreaches another in some transaction, and boasts
blatantly of his success and the profit which it has brought him.
The student of the inner side of nature will tell him that there
has been in reality no gain, but a heavy loss instead. The trickster chinks his
money in his hand, and in his shortsightedness triumphantly cries: “See, here is
the best of proof; here are the golden sovereigns that I have won; how can you
say that I have not gained?”
557.
The occultist will reply that the gold may do him a little good or a
little harm, according to the way in which he uses it; but that a consideration
of far greater importance is the effect of the transaction upon higher levels.
Let us put aside altogether, for the moment, the injury done to the victim of
the fraud-- though, since humanity is truly a vast brotherhood, that is a factor
by no means to be ignored; but let us restrict ourselves now exclusively to the
selfish aspect of the action, and see what harm the dishonest merchant has done
to himself.
558.
THE RESULTS OF DECEIT
559.
Two facts stand out prominently to clairvoyant sight. First, the deceiver
has had to think out his scheme of imposture; he has made a mental effort, and
the result of that effort is a thought-form. Because the thought which gave it
birth was guileful and ill-intentioned, that thought-form is one which cramps
and sears the mental body, hindering its growth and intensifying its lower
vibrations-- a disaster in itself far more than counter-balancing anything
whatever that could possibly happen in the physical world. But that is not all.
560.
Secondly, this duplicity has set up a habit in the mental body. It is
represented therein by a certain type of vibration, and since this vibration has
been set strongly in motion it has created a tendency towards its own
repetition. Next time the man' s thoughts turn towards any commercial
transaction, it will be a little easier than before for him to adopt some
knavish plan, a little more difficult than before for him to be manly, open and
honest. So that this one act of double-dealing may have produced results in the
mental body which it will take years of patient striving to eliminate.
561.
Clearly, therefore, even from the most selfish point of view, the
speculation has been a bad one; the loss enormously outweighs the gain. This is
a certainty-- a matter not of sentiment or imagination, but of fact; and it is
only because so many are still blind to the wider life, that all men do not at
once see this. But even those of us whose sight is not yet open to higher
worlds, should be capable of bringing logic and common sense to bear upon what
our seers tell us-- sufficiently at least to comprehend that these things must
be so, and to take timely warning, to realise that a transaction may appear to
be profitable in one direction and yet be a ruinous loss in another, and that
all the factors must be taken into account before the question of profit or loss
is decided.
562.
It is clear that a student of the occult who has to engage in business
must needs watch closely what are called business methods, lest the pressure of
public opinion on this matter should lead him to perform or to condone actions
not perfectly straightforward or consistent with true brotherhood.
563.
PREJUDICE AGAINST PERSONS
564.
This applies also in the case of public opinion about a particular
person. There is an old proverb which says: “Give a dog a bad name and you may
as well hang him at once.” The truth which it expresses in so homely a manner is
a real one, for if the community has a bad opinion of any given person, however
utterly unfounded that opinion may be, the thought-form of it exists in the
atmosphere of the place, and any stranger who comes will be likely to be
influenced by it. The newcomer, knowing nothing of the victim of evil report, is
unlikely to begin his acquaintance with him by charging him with specific
crimes; but he may find himself predisposed to think ill of him, without being
able to account for it, and may have a tendency to place a sinister
interpretation upon the simplest of his actions. If we are trying to follow the
truth we must be on our guard against these influences also; we must learn to
judge for ourselves in such cases and not to accept a ready-made public
judgment, which is just as truly a superstition as though it were connected with
religious subjects.
565.
THE INFLUENCE OF FRIENDS
566.
An influence which often bears a very large part in a man' s life is that
of his friends. This is recognised in a popular proverb which says that a man
may be known by his friends. I take that to mean that the man usually chooses
his friends from men of a certain type or a certain class, and that that in turn
means that he finds himself in sympathy with the ideas of that type or that
class, and so is likely to reproduce them himself; but it also means much more
than this. When a man is with a friend whom he loves, he is in the most
receptive attitude. He throws himself open to the influence of his friend, and
whatever characteristics are strongly developed in that friend will tend to
produce themselves in him also.
567.
Even in the physical world the belief of a friend commends itself to us
merely because it is belief. It comes to us with a recommendation which assures
for it our most favourable consideration. The hidden side of this is in truth
merely an extension of the idea to a higher level. We open ourselves out towards
our friends, and in doing so put ourselves in a condition of sympathetic
vibration with them. We receive and enfold their thought-waves; whatever is
definite in them cannot but impress itself upon our higher bodies, and these
undulations come to us enwrapped in those of affection; an appeal is made to our
feelings, and therefore to a certain extent our judgment is for the time less
alert. On the one side, this may imply a certain danger that an influence may be
accepted without sufficient consideration; on the other hand, it has its
advantage in securing for that opinion a thoroughly sympathetic reception and
examination. The path of wisdom will be to receive every new opinion as
sympathetically as though it came from our best friend, and yet to scrutinise it
as carefully as though it had reached us from a hostile source.
568.
POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS
569.
It must be remembered that superstition is by no means confined to
religious matters. Most travelled Englishmen are aware that in certain parts of
the Continent there exists a very decided superstition against the admission of
fresh air into a room or a railway carriage, even though science teaches us that
fresh air is a necessity of life. We know without a shadow of doubt, from
scientific teaching, that sunlight destroys many disease germs, and vitalises
the atmosphere; so it is impossible to question that it ought to be admitted to
our houses as freely as possible, more especially in those unfortunate countries
where we see so little of it. Yet instead of accepting this blessing and
exulting in it, many a housewife makes determined efforts to shut it out when it
appears, because of a superstition connected with the colours of curtains and
carpets. It is not to be denied that sunlight causes certain colours to fade,
but the curious lack of proportion of the ignorant mind is shown in the fact
that faded colours are regarded as of greater importance than the physical
health and cleanliness which the admission of the sunlight brings. Civilisation
is gradually spreading, but there are still many towns and villages in which the
superstitious following of the customs of our unscientific forefathers prevents
the adoption of modern methods of sanitation.
570.
Even among people who think themselves advanced, curious little fragments
of primeval superstition still survive. There are still many among us who will
not commence a new undertaking on a Friday, nor form one of a party of thirteen.
There are many who regard certain days of the week or of the month as fortunate
for them and others as unfortunate, and allow their lives to be governed
accordingly. I am not prepared to deny that a larger number of instances than
could reasonably be accounted for by coincidence can be adduced to show that
certain numbers are always connected in some way with the destiny of certain
persons or families. I do not yet fully understand all that is involved in this,
but it would be silly to deny the fact because we have not immediately at hand
an adequate explanation of it. Those who are interested in pursuing this
question further will find some of the instances to which I am referring in the
appendix to Baring Gould' s Curious Myths of the Middle Ages.
571.
I do not doubt the existence of what are commonly called planetary
influences, for I have already explained the hidden side of them; but I say
that, while these influences may make it easier or more difficult to do a
certain thing on a certain day, there is nothing whatever in any of them, or all
of them combined, that can prevent a man of determined will from ordering his
life precisely as he thinks best. As has been said, the wise man rules his
stars, the fool obeys them. To let oneself become a slave to such influences is
to make a superstition of them.
572.
THE FEAR OF GOSSIP
573.
Perhaps the greatest and most disastrous of all the taboos that we erect
for ourselves is the fear of what our neighbours will say. There are many men
and women who appear to live only in order that they may be talked about; at
least that is what one must infer from the way in which they bring everything to
this as to a touchstone. The one and only criterion which they apply with regard
to any course of action is the impression which it will make upon their
neighbours. They never ask themselves: “Is it right or wrong for me to do this?”
but: “What will Mrs. Jones say if I do this?”
574.
This is perhaps the most terrible form of slavery under which a human
being can suffer, and yet to obtain freedom from it, it is only necessary to
assert it. What other people say can make to us only such difference as we
ourselves choose to allow it to make. We have but to realise within ourselves
that it does not in the least matter what anybody says, and at once we are
perfectly free. This is a lesson which the occultist must learn at an early
stage of his progress. He lives upon a higher level, and he can allow himself to
be influenced only by higher considerations. He takes into account the hidden
side of things of which most people know nothing; and, basing his judgment upon
that, he decides for himself what is right and what is wrong, and (having
decided) he troubles himself no more as to what other people say of him than we
trouble ourselves as to the flies that circle round our heads. It never matters
in the least to us what anyone else says, but it matters much to us what we
ourselves say.
575.
A BETTER ASPECT
576.
Happily this mighty power of thought can be used for good as well as for
evil, and, in some ways, the pressure of public opinion is occasionally on the
side of truth and righteousness. Public opinion, after all, represents the
opinion of the majority, and therefore the pressure which it exercises is all to
the good when it is applied to those who are below the level of the majority. It
is indeed only the existence of this mass of opinion which renders social and
civilised life possible; otherwise we should be at the mercy of the strongest
and the most unscrupulous among us. But the student of occultism is trying to
raise himself to a level much above the majority, and for that purpose
it is necessary that he should learn to think for himself, and not to accept
ready-made opinions without examining them. This much at least may be said--
that, if public opinion does not yet exact a very high level of conduct, at
least the public ideal is a high one, and it never fails to respond to the noble
and the heroic when that is put before it. Class feeling and esprit de corps
do harm when they lead men to despise others; but they do good when they
establish a standard below which the man feels that he cannot fall.
577.
In England we have a way of attributing our morals to our religion,
whereas the truth seems to be that there is little real connection between them.
It must be admitted that large numbers of the cultured classes in almost any
European country have no real effective belief in religion at all. Perhaps to a
certain extent they take a few general dogmas for granted, because they have
never really thought about them or weighed them in their minds, but it would be
an error to suppose that religious considerations direct their actions or bear
any large part in their life.
578.
They are, however, greatly influenced, and influenced always for good, by
another body of ideas which is equally intangible-- the sense of honour. The
gentleman in every race has a code of honour of his own; there are certain
things which he must not do, which he cannot do because he is a gentleman. To do
any of those things would lower him in his own estimation, would destroy his
feeling of self-respect; but in fact he has never even the temptation to do
them, because he regards them as impossible for him. To tell an untruth, to do a
mean or dishonourable action, to be disrespectful to a lady; these and such as
these, he will tell you, are things which are not done in his rank of
life. The pressure of such class feeling as this is all to the good, and is by
all means to be encouraged. The same thing is to be found in a minor degree in
the tradition of our great schools or colleges, and many a boy who has been
strongly tempted to escape from some difficulty by an act of dishonour has said
to himself: “I cannot do that, for the sake of the old school; it shall never be
said that one of its members descended to such an action.” So there is a good
side as well as a bad one to this matter of public opinion, and our business is
to use always the great virtue of discrimination, so that we may separate the
desirable from the undesirable.
579.
Another point worth remembering is that this great, clumsy, stupid force
of public opinion can itself be slowly and gradually moulded and influenced. We
ourselves are members of the public, and under the universal law our views must
to some extent affect others. The wonderful change, which during the last thirty
years has come over modern thought in connection with the subjects which we
study, is largely due to the persistent work of our Society. Through all those
years we have steadily continued to speak, to write, and above all to think
sanely and rationally about these questions. In doing so we have been pouring
out vibrations, and their effect is plainly visible in a great modification of
the thought of our day. Only those men who are fully ready can be brought as far
as Theosophy, but thousands more may be brought half-way-- into New Thought,
into Spiritualism, into liberal Christianity. In this case, as in every other,
to know the law is to be able to wield its forces.
580.
CHAPTER XI
581.
BY OCCASIONAL EVENTS
582.
A FUNERAL
583.
SO far we have been considering chiefly the influences which, whether
emanating from nature or from humanity around us, are steadily exercising upon
us a fairly constant pressure, of which we are usually ignorant precisely
because it is constant. It will now be well to mention the hidden side of such
occurrences as come only occasionally into our lives, as, for example, when we
attend a funeral, when we undergo a surgical operation, when we attend a
lecture, a political meeting, or a spiritualistic séance, when there is a
religious revival in our neighbourhood, when a great national festival is
celebrated, or when there is a war, an earthquake, an eruption or some great
calamity in the world.
584.
First, then, how is a man affected by the hidden side of a funeral? I do
not mean how is a man affected by his own funeral, though that also is a
question of interest, for it affects some people to an extraordinary extent. No
person of philosophical temperament would trouble himself as to what was done
with his body, which is after all only a wornout garment; but there are many
people in the world who are not philosophical, and to them it is sometimes a
matter of great moment.
585.
All classical history assures us that the ancient Greek, when he died,
was exceedingly anxious that his body should receive what he considered decent
sepulture-- mainly because he laboured under the illusion that unless this was
done he would not be free to pursue the even tenor of his way after death. Most
of the ghost stories of ancient Greece related to people who came back to
arrange for the due disposal of their bodies.
586.
The poorer classes among the modern Irish seem to share this
extraordinary anxiety about the disposal of their bodies, for on several
occasions I have come across Irish women whose one thought after death was not
in the least for the welfare or progress of their souls, but that the number of
carriages following their funeral procession should not fall below a certain
number, or that the coffin provided for the body should not be in any respect
inferior to that which Mrs. So-and-So had had a few weeks before.
587.
This, however, is a mere digression, and what we have to consider is the
effect of a funeral upon the survivors, and not upon the dead man (who ,
nevertheless, is usually present, and regards the proceedings from various
points of view, according to his temperament).
588.
A funeral is distinctly a function to be avoided by the occultist; but
sometimes he may find himself in circumstances where his refusal to attend might
be misconstrued by ignorant and uncomprehending relations. In such a case he
should exert his will, and put himself into a determined and positive attitude,
so that he may on no account be affected by the influences around him, and at
the same time be in a position powerfully to affect others.
589.
He should think first of the dead man (who will most likely be present)
with strong, friendly interest and affection, and with a determined will for his
peace and advancement. He should adopt also a positive attitude of mind in his
thought towards the mourners, endeavouring strongly to impress upon them that
they must not grieve, because the man whom they mourn as dead is in reality,
still living, and their grief will hinder him in his new condition. He must try
mentally to hold them firmly in hand, and to prevent them from relaxing into
hysterics and helplessness.
590.
The modern funeral is far from ideal. It seems to be an established
convention that there must be some kind of ceremony connected with the disposal
of the discarded clothing of the liberated ego; but surely something better
might be devised than what is usually done at present. The funeral in the
village church is not without a certain amount of appropriateness-- even a
certain consolation; the mourners are in a building which has for them holy and
elevating associations of all sorts, and the service appointed by the Church of
England is beautiful, though here and there one would like to infuse into it a
note of more enthusiastic certainty.
591.
But for the service performed in a cemetery chapel there is nothing
whatever to be said. The place is never used for any other purpose than a
funeral, and its whole atmosphere is pervaded with hopeless grief. Everything is
usually as bare and as gloomy as possible; the very walls reek of the
charnel-house. We must remember that, for one person who understands the truth
about death and takes an intelligently hopeful view of it, there are hundreds
who have nothing but the most irrational and gruesome ideas. Such a place as
that, therefore, is filled with the blackest despair and the most poignant
mental suffering; and it is consequently of all places the most undesirable into
which to take those who have experienced what seems to them to be a bereavement.
592.
THE DISPOSAL OF THE DEAD BODY
593.
No one who has the faintest glimpse of the hidden side of things can
approve of our present barbarous method of disposing of the bodies of the dead.
Even on the physical earth there is no single point in its favour, and there are
many weighty considerations against it. From the sentimental point of view
alone, it is impossible to understand how any person can reconcile himself to
the idea that the cast-off garment of one whom he loves should be left to a slow
and loathsome decay under conditions from which imagination shrinks with horror;
and when to this we add the dreadful danger of disease to the living from the
unspeakable pollution of air and of water, we begin to understand that our
funeral customs are one of the many indications that our boasted civilisation
is, after all only a veneer.
594.
Still more decidedly is this impression confirmed when we gain an insight
into that side of these matters which is as yet unknown to the majority. We
become aware then what kind of entity it is that is attracted by the process of
slow putrefaction, and we see that in this way also terrible, unnecessary harm
is being done to the survivors.
595.
For the dead man, if he is wise, it matters little what becomes of the
worn-out garment; but it should be remembered that all dead men are not
necessarily wise, and that for some of them (who know no better) this abominable
custom of ours makes possible a serious mistake, which under proper conditions
could not be committed.
596.
The average man in his ordinary thinking is not in the habit of
separating himself into body and soul as definitely as does the student of
occultism. True, the dead man has finally left his physical vehicle, and it is
practically impossible for him again to take possession of it; but he is
intimately acquainted with it, and its rates of vibration are familiar and
sympathetic to him. Under all normal and clean and proper conditions he has done
with it entirely; but there are those who, having had no ideas, no conceptions
of any sort beyond the physical during life, become crazy with fear when they
find themselves altogether cut adrift from it. Such men sometimes make frantic
efforts to return into some sort of touch with physical life. Most do not
succeed; but when any of them do succeed to some limited extent, it can be only
by means of their own physical bodies.
597.
Such Rapport as they still retain with the decaying vestures
sometimes enables them to draw from them the basis of an imperfect and unnatural
half-materialisation-- not nearly enough to bring them back into touch with the
physical world, but yet sufficient to tear them for the time from healthy astral
life. Such people make for themselves for awhile-- fortunately only for awhile--
a dim, grey world of horror in which they see physical happenings as in a glass
darkly-- as through a world of mist in which they wander, lost and helpless.
598.
They cannot get back entirely into the dense bodies; a man who did would
become a vampire. But they do get hold of the etheric matter of their discarded
vehicles, and drag it about with them, and this is the cause of all their
suffering; and until they can get rid of this entanglement, until they can
plunge through the grayness and get into the light, there can be no rest for
them. There are unpleasant forms of black magic, too, known in oriental
countries and to those who have studied the methods of the Voodoo or the Obeah,
which depend for their success upon the decaying physical body; though this is
happily not a consideration of practical importance to those who live among
communities unversed in such evil lore.
599.
But at least this is clear-- that all possibilities of evil, both for the
dead and for the living, are avoided by the rational disposal of the discarded
vesture of flesh. When we return to the custom of cremation, practised by the
Hindus, the Greeks and the Romans, we reduce the physical vehicle as rapidly as
possible to its constituent elements in a manner which is at once clean, decent,
and wholly satisfactory to the aesthetic sentiment as well as to the rational
view of the man of sense.
600.
Some people have feared the possibility that, especially in the cases of
sudden death, the dead man might feel the flame-- might be in some way not yet
fully separated from his body, and so might suffer when that body was burned.
Even if the death be sudden, so long as it is death, the astral and
etheric matter have been completely separated from the denser physical, and it
would be quite impossible that the dead man could under any circumstances feel
what was done to the physical body. I mean that he could not really
feel it, because the connection through which he feels is definitely broken;
what is perhaps possible is that, seeing the cremation, he might have a certain
fear lest he should feel it-- the idea that he ought to be feeling it, as it
were; and so imagination might come into play to some extent.
601.
I have never seen such a case in connection with cremation; but I
remember hearing on good authority of a young man whose teeth were all drawn
after his death by a dishonest undertaker, in order that they might be sold as
artificial teeth. The young man appeared to his father with blood flowing from
his mouth, exclaiming in great indignation that they had tortured him by drawing
his teeth. The body was exhumed, and it was found that his story was correct. In
this case, if the man was really dead, it is quite impossible that he could have
felt any pain; but he became aware of what was being done, and was very angry
about it; and no doubt he may have thought of himself as really injured, because
during life the idea of tooth-drawing had been associated with great pain.
602.
The difference which the knowledge of the hidden side of things makes in
the consideration of the whole subject of death is very aptly shown by two of
the figures reproduced in the book on Thought-Forms -- those which
illustrate the thought-images created by two men standing side by side at a
funeral. There it is seen that the man who had lived in the ordinary blank
ignorance with regard to death, had no thought in connection with it but selfish
fear and depression; whereas the man who understood the facts was entirely free
from any suggestion of those feelings, for the only sentiments evoked in him
were those of sympathy and affection for the mourners, and of devotion and high
aspiration.
603.
Indeed, knowledge of the hidden side of life entirely changes a man' s
attitude towards death, for it shows him instantly that instead of being the end
of all things, as is often ignorantly supposed, it is simply the passage from
this stage of life to another which is freer and pleasanter than the physical,
and that consequently it is to be desired rather than to be feared. He sees at
once how utterly a delusion is the theory that those who cast aside their
physical bodies are lost to us, for he knows that they remain near us just as
before, and that all that we have lost is the power to see them. To the
consciousness of the man who possesses even astral sight, the so-called dead are
just as definitely present as the so-called living, and since he sees how
readily they are affected by the vibrations which we send out to them, he
understands how harmful is the attitude of mourning and grief so often
unfortunately adopted by the friends who still retain their physical bodies.
604.
A knowledge of the hidden side of life by no means teaches us to forget
our dead, but it makes us exceedingly careful as to how we think of them; it
warns us that we must adopt a resolutely unselfish attitude, that we must forget
all about ourselves, and the pain of the apparent separation, and think of them
neither with grief nor with longing, but always with strong affectionate wishes
for their happiness and their progress.
605.
The clairvoyant sees exactly in what manner such wishes affect them, and
at once perceives the truth which underlies the teaching of the Catholic Church
with regard to the advisability of prayers for the dead. By these both the
living and the dead are helped; for the former, instead of being thrown back
upon his grief with a hopeless feeling that now he can do nothing, since there
is a great gulf between himself and his loved one, is encouraged to turn his
affectionate thought into definite action which promotes the happiness and
advancement of him who has passed from his sight in the physical world. Of all
this and much more I have written fully in the book called The Other Side Of
Death, so here I will only thus far touch upon the subject, and refer to
that volume any who wish for more detailed information.
606.
A SURGICAL OPERATION
607.
In these days of the triumph of surgery it not infrequently happens that
a man has to submit himself to an operation. There is less of a hidden side to
this than to many other events, because the use of anaesthetics drives the man
away from his physical body altogether. But in that very absence much that is of
interest to him takes place, and it is well to endeavour to note and remember as
far as may be what occurs. This is a difficult thing to do; more difficult than
the bringing through of the memory from the astral world, because what is driven
out by the anaesthetic is the etheric part of the physical man, and as the
etheric double is only a portion of the physical body, and in no sense a perfect
vehicle in itself, a man cannot usually bring through a clear memory.
608.
I remember a case of this nature which I was asked by the victim to
attend. He was much interested in the occult side of the affair, and anxious to
remember all that he could. He was placed upon the operating table, and the
anaesthetic was administered. Almost immediately the man sprang out in his
astral body, recognised me, and started down the room towards me with an
expression of vivid delight upon his face, evidently overjoyed at finding
himself fully conscious in the astral world. But in a moment came pouring forth
from the physical body a great cloud of etheric matter which was forced out by
the anaesthetic. This cloud immediately wrapped itself round him, and I could
see the intelligence fade out of his face until it became a mere mask.
609.
When I was permitted to see him again two days afterwards, his memory of
what had happened tallied exactly with that I had seen. He remembered the rush
out of his body; he recollected clearly seeing me at the other end of the room,
and feeling greatly delighted that everything seemed so real. Then he started
down the room towards me, but somehow he never arrived, and knew nothing more
until he came back into the body an hour later when the whole operation was
over. I felt on that occasion what an advantage the possession of clairvoyance
would have been to the two doctors engaged. They gave the patient too much of
the anaesthetic, and came within an ace of finally driving out the whole of his
etheric double, instead of only part of it as they intended. As my clairvoyant
companion forcibly remarked, they left hardly enough of it to cover
half-a-crown, and the consequence was that the patient came perilously near to
death, and they had to pump oxygen into his lungs for ten minutes in order to
bring him back to life at all.
610.
A few years ago a visit to the dentist frequently meant a minor
operation, in which the patient passed through a somewhat similar but much
shorter experience, owing to the administration of nitrous oxide, and many
curious phenomena have shown themselves in connection with that. An example in
point will be found in my book on Dreams (page 38). In these days of
local anaesthetics the dentist is usually able to do his work without the
administration of gas, and consequently the experiences connected with his
operation are of a less occult nature.
611.
A LECTURE
612.
We have in a previous chapter considered the consequences which attend
upon the action of going to church; let us now consider the inner side of
attending a lecture, a political meeting, a spiritualistic séance, or a
religious revival.
613.
Of these forms of excitement the lecture is usually the mildest, though
even that to some extent depends upon its subject. There is generally much less
uniformity about the audience at a lecture than about a congregation in a
church. There are often many and rather decisive points of likeness between
those who adopt the same religious belief, whereas the people who are interested
in a lecture upon some particular subject may come from many different folds,
and be of all sorts of quite different types. Still, for the time being there is
a link between them, the link of interest in a particular subject: and
therefore, however different their minds may be, the same portion of the mind is
for the moment being brought into activity in all of them, and that creates a
certain superficial harmony.
614.
Since the Theosophical student frequently has to deliver lectures as well
as to endure them, it is perhaps well not entirely to neglect that side of the
subject, but to note that, if the lecturer wishes to act effectively upon the
mind-bodies of his audience, he must first of all have a clearly defined idea
expressing itself through his own mind-body. As he thinks earnestly of the
different parts of his subject and tries to put them before his people, he is
making a series of thought-forms-- unusually strong thought-forms because of the
effort.
615.
He has a fine opportunity, because his audience is necessarily to a great
extent in a receptive condition. They have taken the trouble to come in order to
hear about this particular subject, and therefore we must suppose that they are
in a condition of readiness to hear. If under these favourable conditions he
fails to make them understand him, it must be because his own thought upon the
subject is not sufficiently clearcut. A clumsy and indefinite thought-form makes
but a slight impression, and even that with much difficulty. A clearly-cut one
forces the mental bodies in the audience to try to reproduce it. Their
reflections of it will almost invariably be less definite and less satisfactory
than it is, but still, if its edges are sharp enough, they will convey the idea
to some extent; but if that from which they have to copy is itself blurred, it
is eminently probable that the reproductions will prove entirely unrecognisable.
616.
Sometimes the lecturer receives unexpected assistance. The fact that he
is engaged in thinking strongly of one particular subject attracts the attention
of disembodied entities who happen to be interested in that subject, and the
audience often includes a greater number of people in astral than in physical
bodies. Many of these come simply to hear, as do their brothers in the physical
world, but sometimes it happens that one of those who are attracted knows more
about the subject than the lecturer. In that case he sometimes assists by
suggestions or illustrations. These may come to the lecturer in various ways. If
he is clairvoyant he may see his assistant, and the new ideas or illustrations
will be materialised in subtler matter before him. If he is not clairvoyant, it
will probably be necessary for the helper to impress the ideas upon his brain,
and in such a case he may well suppose them to be his own. Sometimes the
assistant is not disembodied, or rather only temporarily disembodied; for this
is one of the pieces of work frequently taken in hand by the invisible helpers.
617.
In some cases the ego of the lecturer manifests himself in some curious
exterior way. For example, I have heard the greatest orator now living say that,
while she is speaking one sentence of a lecture, she habitually sees the next
sentence actually materialise in the air before her, in three different forms,
from which she consciously selects that one which she thinks the best. This must
be the work of the ego, though it is a little difficult to see why he takes that
method of communication, since after all it is he who is delivering the lecture
through the physical organs. At first blush it seems that it would be as easy
for him-- or perhaps even easier-- to select a form himself, and impress only
that one upon lower matter; and even then it might as well come directly to the
brain as be materialised in the air before it.
618.
Returning from the lecturer to his audience, we may note that it is
possible for his hearers to give him great assistance in his work. Older members
of a branch have sometimes been heard to say that they did not feel it necessary
to go down to the lodge meeting on a certain occasion, as the lecture was about
a subject with which they were already thoroughly acquainted. Apart from the
large assumption involved in the statement that one can ever be fully
acquainted with any Theosophical teaching, it is not accurate to say that a man'
s presence is useless because he knows the subject. Exactly the opposite remark
would have much more truth in it; because he knows the subject thoroughly he
also can make strong and clear thought-forms of the different illustrations
required, and in that way he can greatly assist the lecturer in impressing on
the audience what he wishes to convey to them.
619.
The greater the number of people present at a lecture who thoroughly
understand its subject, the easier will it be for all those to whom it is new to
obtain a clear conception of it. The lecturer, therefore, is distinctly helped
by the presence of those who can fully comprehend him. He also may be much
helped or hindered by the general attitude of his audience. In the main that is
usually friendly, since the majority of people who come to a lecture come
because they are interested in the subject and wish to learn something about it.
Sometimes, however, one or two appear whose main desire is to criticise, and
their presence is anything but helpful.
620.
A POLITICAL MEETING
621.
This latter effect is much more in evidence at a political meeting, for
there it seems to be the rule that, while some people go for the purpose of
supporting the speaker, others go merely for the purpose of challenging and
interrupting him. Consequently the feelings to be experienced, and the
thought-forms to be seen, at political meetings are not easy to predict
beforehand. But one often sees cases in which forms composed entirely or
principally of the thoughts of the adherents of one party make huge waves of
enthusiasm, which rush over the audience, surround the speaker and work him up
into a corresponding condition of enthusiasm.
622.
Many years ago I remember attending a meeting of this description, and
being much struck by the effect produced by getting all the people to join
together in singing. Some great gun of the party was to speak, and consequently
the huge hall was crowded to suffocation a couple of hours before the advertised
time; but the organisers of the meeting were wise in their generation, and they
employed that time most efficiently by working up that vast heterogeneous crowd
into a condition of loyal enthusiasm. All sorts of patriotic songs followed one
another in quick succession, and though few really knew the tunes, and still
fewer the words, there was at least no lack of enthusiastic good feeling. The
two hours of waiting passed like an entertainment, and I think most people were
surprised to find how quickly time had fled.
623.
The occult side of the average political meeting, however, is far from
attractive, for from the astral world it not unfrequently bears a strong general
resemblance to an exceedingly violent thunderstorm. There is often much warring
feeling, and even a good deal of personal enmity. On the whole we have usually a
preponderance of a sort of rough and perhaps rather coarse, good-humoured
jollity, often pierced, however, by spears of anxious feeling from the
promoters. Unless duty actually calls one to such gatherings it is generally
better to avoid them, for on such occasions there is always a clash of astral
currents that cannot but induce great fatigue in anyone who is in the least
sensitive.
624.
CROWDS
625.
It is also desirable to avoid as far as possible the mixing of magnetism
which comes from too close contact with a promiscuous crowd. Not that we must
assume for a moment that the persons composing the crowd are necessarily lower
or worse than ourselves. It would be most undesirable that the student should
become self-conscious, self-conceited or self-righteous. It is probably true
that the aims and objects of the majority of people in any crowd, taken at
random, are of more worldly type than those of the Theosophical student; but it
would be both wrong and foolish to despise the people on that account. The point
to bear in mind is, not that we are better than they, but that there is a
difference in the rates of vibration, and that consequently to be in constant
contact with others causes disturbance in the various vehicles, which it is
better to avoid.
626.
Nevertheless, when duty renders it necessary or desirable that the
student should enter a crowd, there are at his disposal various means by which
he can protect himself. The most usual is the making of a shell, either etheric,
astral or mental; but the best protection of all is a radiant goodwill and
purity. I shall presently devote a chapter to the consideration of this question
of protection.
627.
A SÉANCE
628.
Of all forms of meeting one of the most interesting from the occult point
of view is the spiritualistic séance, though of this there are so many different
types that hardly anything can be said which would apply equally to all of
them-- except perhaps that one almost invariable characteristic is an atmosphere
of joyousness and hopefulness. The circles to which outsiders are often
introduced, those of which we hear and of which we may occasionally read in the
newspapers-- these are after all the few, and behind them, forming the real
block of spiritualism, are two other variants of which we hear very little.
629.
There is the ordinary séance, quite among the poor, with a medium
probably of the stout washer-woman type, where no sensational phenomena take
place, where the spirits are frequently ungrammatical. Thousands of such séances
are being held all over the world, and there is a strong family likeness between
them. To a visitor their proceedings would appear profoundly uninteresting.
Usually the medium gives a kind of fourth-rate ethical address-- or perhaps it
is really given through the medium-- but in any case it usually
faithfully reproduces all her favourite errors in grammar and in pronounciation.
Then as a general rule a few words are said specially to each of the persons
present, often taking the form of a description of their surroundings or of the
spirits which are supposed to be hovering about them. Such descriptions are
usually vague and uncertain to the last degree, but now and again striking
identifications are made-- far too many to be explicable on any theory of mere
coincidence. And however dull all this may seem to the outsider, it does
undoubtedly carry peace and conviction to the members of the circle, and gives
them a real living knowledge and certainty with regard to the continued
existence of man after death, which puts to shame the faith of the fashionable
churches.
630.
The hidden side of a séance such as this has often something pathetic
about it. Behind the medium there is usually what is called a spirit-guide-- a
dead person, sometimes of the medium' s own class in life, sometimes of a
decidedly higher type-- a dead person who has by much patient effort learned how
to influence with a reasonable amount of certainty the clumsy organism of the
medium, which, however unsuitable it may be in most other respects, at least
possesses the invaluable faculty that it can be influenced and that
communications can in some way or other be got through. The patience with which
this entity deals with the poor souls that come to him from both sides of the
veil is admirable; for he has to try to bring into harmony not only the tearful
inconsequence of scores of sorrowing relations on this side, but also the
feverish and clamorous excitement of a crowd who are trying to rush into
manifestation from the other. With his class and in his way such an entity does
a great deal of good, and his life of unnoticed toil in some obscure district
adds more to the sum total of human happiness than many far more showy efforts
which receive greater credit in the eyes of the public. Even such a séance as
this, when examined with astral sight, is seen to be a centre of a kind of
vortex. the departed rushing in from all directions, desiring either themselves
to manifest or to watch the manifestation.
631.
There is another variety of séance of which few know anything-- the
private family circle to which no outsider is ever admitted. This is infinitely
the most satisfactory side of spiritualism, for through it many thousands of
families communicate day by day with friends or relations who have passed from
the physical world, and in this way not only learn a number of interesting facts
but are kept constantly in touch with spiritual subjects and at a high level of
thought with regard to them. Most commonly the central figure at these private
séances is some departed member of the family, and the communications ordinarily
are affectionate little sermonettes of a devotional character, often somewhat
rhapsodical.
632.
Occasionally, however, where the departed relation happens to be a man of
original thought or of a scientific turn of mind, a great volume of definite
information is gradually gathered together. There are far more of these private
revelations in existence than is generally suspected, for hardly one in a
hundred of those who receive them is prepared to face an exposure to public
ridicule of what to him is above all things a holy thing, in the hope of so
improbable a result as the conversion of some sceptical stranger.
633.
At such séances as these, remarkable phenomena are not infrequent, and
materialisations of the most startling kind are sometimes part of the daily
programme. Often the so-called dead are just as much part of the daily life of
the family as the living, as was the case, for example, with the phenomena which
took place at the house of Mr. Morel Theobald, at Haslemere. The séances
described by Mr. Robert Dale Owen are largely of this character, and they
represent the highest possible kind of spiritualism, though in the very nature
of the case it is hardly ever available to the ordinary enquirer.
634.
The hidden side of such séances as these is truly magnificent, for they
form points of habitual contact between the astral and physical worlds--
vortices again, but this time only of the higher and nobler varieties of astral
life. The thought-forms surrounding them are of the religious or the scientific
type according to the nature of the manifestations, but they are always good
thought-forms, calculated to raise the mental or spiritual level of the district
in which they are to be found.
635.
Putting aside these two large classes, we have next the smaller group of
public séances which to most outsiders represent the whole of spiritualism. All
sorts of people are admitted to these, usually, on payment of a small sum of
money, and the entities who appear on the astral side are just as curious a
conglomerate as those who attend on the physical. Here also there is almost
always a spirit-guide in charge. The highest astral types are not to be found
among the habitués of such séances as these, but there is usually a sprinkling
of dead people who have devoted themselves to the idea of being useful to those
still on the physical earth, by the exhibition of phenomena and the giving of
various small tests.
636.
The aura of such a séance is usually on the whole somewhat unpleasant,
for it attracts a great deal of attention in the astral world as well as in the
physical, and consequently round every one of them is always a clamorous crowd
of the most undesirable entities, who are restrained only by force from pushing
in and seizing upon the medium. Among the dangers attending these séances is the
possibility that one of these desperate creatures may seize upon any sensitive
sitter and obsess him; worse still, that he may follow him home, and seize upon
his wife or daughter. There have been many such cases, and usually it is almost
impossible to get rid of an entity which has thus obsessed the body of a living
human being.
637.
The hidden side of such a séance is generally a confused network of
cross-currents, some good and some bad, but none very good and some very bad.
The clairvoyant attending such a séance may obtain a certain amount of
instruction from watching the various methods by which the phenomena are
produced, which are sometimes exceedingly ingenious. He will be astonished at
the cleverness of the personations, and at the amazing facility with which those
who know nothing of this side of life can be deceived.
638.
A RELIGIOUS REVIVAL
639.
From the point of view of the student of the inner worlds one of the most
remarkable phenomena of our day is what is called a religious revival. A
religious revival, as seen from the physical world, usually means a gathering of
people of the lower classes whose feelings are inflamed by highly emotional and
often lurid appeals from some fanatical exponent of the gospel of a particular
sect. Day after day these meetings take place, and they are often accompanied by
the most extraordinary phenomena of nervous excitement.
640.
People work themselves up into some sort of hysterical condition in which
they feel themselves to be saved, as they call it-- to have escaped forever from
the bondage of the ordinary life of the world, and to have become members of a
spiritual community whose aims are of the highest description. Often they are
moved to confess in public what they consider to have been their misdeeds, and
they are apt to do this with a wealth of emotion and repentance entirely out of
proportion to anything that they have to confess. The wave of nervous excitement
spreads like an infectious disease, and usually it lasts for some weeks, though
often towards the end of that time symptoms of universal exhaustion appear and
the whole thing somewhat shamefacedly dies down into commonplace life again.
641.
In a small percentage of the cases the spiritual elevation appears to be
maintained, and the victims continue to live a life at a distinctly higher level
than that which had been theirs previously; but by far the greater number of the
cases relapse either suddenly and dramatically, or by slow and gradual stages,
into much the same kind of life as they had led before the excitement came.
Statistics show that the culmination of this emotional excitement is accompanied
by great sexual disturbance, and that the number of illegitimate unions of all
sorts is temporarily greatly increased. There are certain sects which take as
part of their regular system a much modified form of this excitement, and
consider it necessary for their junior members to pass through a crisis which is
sometimes described as “being convinced of sin,” and in other cases simply as
“getting religion”.
642.
Such a revival as this is seen in its most extravagant form among the
negroes of America, among whom it reaches a level of frenzy not commonly
attained by the white races. The negroes find it necessary to relieve their
feelings by dances and leaps and contortions of the wildest kind, and these are
often carried on for hours together, accompanied by yells and groans of a truly
alarming character.
643.
That this sort of thing should take place in the twentieth century, and
among people who think themselves civilised is surely a most remarkable
phenomenon, and one deserving careful consideration from a student of the inner
side of things. For one who possesses astral vision such an outburst is a
wonderful but unpleasant sight. The missioner or revivalist preacher who first
commences such a movement is usually animated by the highest motives. He becomes
impressed with the overflowing love of God, or with the wickedness of a
particular section of the community, and he feels that the spirit moves him to
proclaim the one and to rebuke the other. He works himself up into a condition
of tremendous emotional excitement, and sets his astral body swinging far beyond
the degree of safety.
644.
For a man may yield himself to emotion up to a certain point, and yet
recover himself, just as a ship may roll to a certain extent and yet swing back
again to her normal position; but just as the ship capsizes if she rolls beyond
that point of safety, so if the man lets his astral body entirely escape from
control, he dies, or becomes insane or is obsessed. Such an obsession need not
necessarily be what we should call an evil one, though the truth is that all
obsession is evil; but I mean that we need not credit the obsessing entity with
anything but good intentions, though he usually takes advantage of such an
opportunity more for the sake of the excitement and the feeling which he himself
gets out of it than from any altruistic motive.
645.
In many cases, however, the obsessing entity is a departed preacher of
the same religion, style and type as the man obsessed, and thus we have
temporarily two souls working through one body. The double force thus gained is
poured out recklessly upon any audience that can be gathered together. The
tremendous swinging energy of these hysterical excesses is contagious, and since
such revivals are usually set on foot among people whose emotions are not under
the control of a strongly developed intellect, the preacher soon finds others
who can be reduced by sympathetic vibration to a condition as unbalanced as his
own.
646.
Every one who swings over the safety point adds to the strength of these
exaggerated vibrations, and soon an astral disturbance is set up of the nature
of a gigantic whirlpool. Towards this from all sides pour astral entities whose
one desire is for sensation-- no longer merely or even chiefly human beings, but
all kinds of nature-spirits who delight in and bathe in the vibrations of wild
excitement just as children play in the surf. It is they who supply and
constantly reinforce the energy which is expended with such terrible
recklessness. It is they who try to keep up the level of the excitement, so long
as they can find any human beings who can be dragged into the vortex and induced
to give them the pleasurable sensations which they desire.
647.
The emotion, remember, is emphatically not of a high type, for it is
intensely personal. It is always motived by an exalted egoism, the desire to
save one' s own soul; so that the dominant idea is a selfish one. That defines
the kind of matter which is set in motion in these tremendous swirlings, and
that again limits the nature-spirits who enjoy it to such types as find
themselves in tune with that kind of matter. These are naturally by no means the
highest types; they are usually creatures without much intelligence or
comprehension, understanding nothing about their human victims; and quite unable
to save them from the consequences of their mad excitement, even if they could
be supposed to care to do so.
648.
This then is the hidden side of such a movement; this is what the
clairvoyant sees when he watches one of these most astonishing meetings. He sees
a number of human beings who are taken out of themselves, whose higher vehicles
are for the time being no longer their own, but are being used to supply this
torrent of energy. All these people are pouring out their emotions in order to
make a vast astral whirlpool into which these great nature-spirits throw
themselves with intense delight, plunging and flying through it again and again
in wild abandonment of utter pleasure. For they can abandon themselves to
pleasure with a thoroughness of which the heavier human being knows nothing.
Their whole life for the time is one wild paroxysm, and this feeling reacts upon
the human beings who unconsciously minister to their pleasures, and gives them
also a sensation of intense exultation.
649.
Here we see the explanation of the passional side of these extraordinary
displays. All that the nature-spirits desire is intense emotion of one kind or
other on the part of their human slaves. It is nothing to them whether that
emotion be religious or sexual; probably they do not even know the difference.
Certainly they cannot know whether either is helpful or harmful to the evolution
of the human beings concerned. The whole thing is a wild, mad orgie of non-human
entities, precisely the same thing as the mediaeval witches' sabbath, but
provoked in this case by an emotion which many consider as belonging to the good
side instead of to the evil side of life. But to these nature-spirits all that
makes no difference. They know nothing of good or evil; what they enjoy is the
tremendous excitement which they can gain only by swaying masses of human beings
simultaneously into a condition imminently dangerous to the sanity of their
victims. No one man alone could reach so dangerous a level of excitement. There
must be a great number reacting upon and, as it were, encouraging and
strengthening one another. Indeed, I should advise the student not to attend
revival meetings, because, unless he is in good health and well poised, there is
definite danger that even he may be swept off his feet.
650.
I wish it to be distinctly understood that in what I have written I am in
no way denying the great fact that what is called “sudden conversion” does
sometimes take place, and that the man to whom it happens is ever after the
better for it. The word ` conversion' is a noble one, if we can only dissociate
it from such undignified surroundings as those that I have been describing. It
means “to turn along with,” and its implication is that the man, who has
hitherto been working along his own selfish road, realises for the first time
the mighty truth that God has a plan for man, and that it is within his power to
adapt himself intelligently to this plan and fulfil the part in it which is
destined for him. When he realises this, he turns round and “goes together with”
the divine Will, instead of ignorantly working against it; and after he has once
done this, although he may become what the Christians call a backslider,
although his vehicles may run away with him, and carry him into all
sorts of excesses, he can never again sin without feeling remorse-- without
knowing that he has fallen, and regretting the fall.
651.
This knowledge of the great facts of life is called in the East “the
acquirement of discrimination” or sometimes “the opening of the doors of the
mind”. Usually it is a gradual process, or at least one which comes as the
result of continual thought or reasoning. Sometimes, however, the final
conviction is borne in upon the man in an instant, and that is a case of what is
called “sudden conversion”. If the man to whom that instantaneous flash of
conviction comes has previously reasoned the thing out with himself (perhaps in
other lives) and has almost persuaded himself, so that he needs merely a final
touch of illumination to make him quite certain-- then the effect of such a
conversion is permanent. Not that, even then, the man may not frequently fall
back, but he will always recover from such falls, and will on the whole make
steady progress.
652.
As has been described, the emotional effect of a great revival meeting is
very powerful. Not only will it give the little additional touch which is needed
for the ` conversion' of a man who is nearly ready for that process, but it will
sometimes seize upon a man who is as yet by no means ready, and it may be
powerful enough to swing him over the dividing line, and make him profess
himself for the moment (and quite honestly) as heartily converted as the other.
But the permanent effect is by no means the same. In this latter case, the man
is not really ready; there is a vast amount of force still uncontrolled in the
lower part of his nature, and although that was for the time dominated by the
forces present at the revival meeting, when that is over it reasserts itself,
and the man inevitably falls back again into his former courses. We must not
blame him for that; the strength which is needed for the permanent control of
the lower nature grows very slowly, and it would be unreasonable to expect that
it can ever be developed in a moment of enthusiasm. The cases in which it
appears to be so developed are simply those in which the force has been secretly
gathering itself for a long time previously.
653.
Therefore I say again that I do not for a moment deny the occasional
reality of sudden conversions; I do not deny that a certain amount of good must
follow from all the devotional enthusiasm which is thrown into a religious
revival. But I also say that every word that I have written above as to the
general effect of such gatherings, and the part taken in them by non-human
entities, is absolutely true; and for that reason I cannot but think that such
excitement should be avoided by the student of occultism.
654.
In the rare cases where a vast crowd is moved by a dominant idea which is
wholly unselfish, quite a different order of entities comes into play-- the
astral angels, who have an active delight in good. Under such guidance as
theirs, the excessive temporary vibration is safe and even helpful, for these
beings understand humanity and know how to bring it back again safely into its
ordinary condition.
655.
Some years ago I happened to see a remarkable instance of this which I
will presently describe, but I must first say a few words as to the virtue which
caused the outburst. For the whole difference is in the motive: in the case
previously described it was fundamentally selfish, but in this it was unselfish;
in that it was the hope of personal salvation, in this it was loyalty and
patriotism.
656.
A WAVE OF PATRIOTISM
657.
Patriotism is a virtue upon which in these days it is very necessary to
insist. But we must be sure of what we mean by the term. It is not prejudice,
nor is it ill-mannered boasting. There are those who can see no good in any
country but their own, who are constantly vaunting with offensive swagger what
they consider its superlative excellencies, and disparaging all others. These
are not patriots, but mere braggarts: they exhibit not the strength of their
loyalty, but the depth of their ignorance.
658.
True patriotism is the very antithesis of all this; it recognises that
each country has its advantages and its disadvantages, that each nation has its
excellencies, but also always its deficiencies, since no political or social
scheme is yet perfect, and there is a good deal of human nature everywhere.
Nevertheless it also sees that just as man owes consideration to the parents who
have tended him and to the family of which he finds himself a part, so does he
also owe something to the country into which he is born, for that birth is not a
matter of chance but of karma. He is put there because these are the
surroundings that he has deserved, and they are also those best suited to help
onward his evolution. He is put there not to receive only, but to give; for man
learns best by service. Thus he should be prepared when called upon to work for
his country; he should acquiesce cheerfully in such measures as may be necessary
for the general good, even though they may bring loss to him individually; he
should forget for his country' s sake his private interests and desires, and
when the opportunity arises he should give himself unsparingly to her service.
659.
I am aware that, among students of what is called advanced thought, there
are those who sneer at patriotism as a virtue which is half a vice-- as an
evidence of a low stage of development. But that is a mistaken view: as well
might one rail at family affection for exactly the same reasons. Truly both love
for family and love for country are more limited than universal love, but they
are nevertheless stages on the way to it. If primitive man thinks only for
himself, it is an advance for him to extend his love to that wider self which we
call the family, and to learn to feel and to think for his nation is but a
further step on the same road. Later still he will learn to think and to feel
for humanity as a whole, and then he will come to see that the animal and the
plant are our brothers, even though they may be younger brothers, and that all
life is the divine Life, and so the love which was once confined to himself, to
his family, to his clan, to his nation, has become wide as the shoreless sea of
the divine Love.
660.
But a very necessary stage on the way to this goal is that patriotism
which leads a man to forego his own ease and comfort, to put aside his private
opportunities of gain, nay, to sacrifice his very life, in order to serve his
country. Naturally also he personifies his country in the person of her ruler,
and so is developed the other virtue of loyalty, and his character is thereby
greatly elevated and purified. That individual kings have in the past often been
unworthy of this high feeling is a sad fact, but it does not interfere with the
other fact of the benefit which accrues to those in whom such feeling is evoked.
When it fortunately happens that the sovereign is all that a ruler should be, we
have a collocation of circumstances in which loyalty can work with its greatest
effect, and splendid results may be achieved both for the King and his people.
661.
A remarkable instance of this was seen in the enthusiasm evoked by the
celebration of the Diamond Jubilee of the late Queen Victoria. For those who
could see it, the inner side of the proceedings of that day was a spectacle
never to be forgotten.
662.
It happened that on that occasion I had, through the kindness of a
friend, a seat at one of the office-windows in the City on the route of the
great procession. Even from the physical point of view, the decorations had
transformed the gloomy London streets. The whole of the fronts of the tall
houses on both sides of the dingy street were covered with a sort of scaffolding
which formed temporary balconies to each of the windows, and all these were
closely packed with men, women and children, so that the grim house-fronts were
like cliffs lined with faces, rising tier above tier, and the procession wound
its way at the foot, as along a gorge whose sides were built of human bodies.
663.
Mostly the people were business men with their wives and families, and
country friends; and these latter introduced an element of gaiety and curiosity
to which those stern, dark City streets are unaccustomed, for as a rule the
people gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the occasion, and to the
criticising of their neighbours' toilets. The City men themselves were in the
majority of cases unable to shake off their anxieties, and were to be seen still
surrounded by thought-forms of prices and percentages. Occasionally a privileged
carriage would dash by, or a regiment of soldiers on its way to take part in the
pageant; but those rarely claimed more than a moment' s attention from these
business men, who collapsed almost immediately into their calculations again.
Even when at last the great procession itself appeared, their interest in it was
but half-hearted, and they saw it against a background of stocks and shares and
financial anxiety.
664.
Now and again some specially popular visitor received a little ovation,
but on the whole the astral appearance of that huge crowd differed little at
that period from that of other similar gatherings. The delight of the children
at so unusual a holiday showed itself in many a flash and coruscation of colour,
while their fathers' thoughts frequently offered the unfavourable contrast of
dark and leaden patches, blots upon the variegated brilliancy of the scene, for
they were but little affected by the waves of excitement which were beginning to
leap across from side to side of the street. But the vibration of feeling grew
stronger and stronger, and when the splendour of that marvellous pageant
culminated in the approach of the Queen herself, a startling change took place,
for all the thousands of little local flashes and vortices of colour disappeared
utterly, overwhelmed in the tremendous cataract of mingled blue and rose and
violet, which was pouring like a veritable Niagara down both sides of that
living valley of faces.
665.
Literally the only comparison possible for it was that smooth, resistless
rush which is so impressive as one looks up from below at the greatest waterfall
of the world, but here it was combined with a wealth of indescribably glorious
colour far beyond any conception on the physical plane. No words can give any
idea of the effect of that tremendous outburst of simultaneous enthusiasm, that
coruscating cascade of love and loyalty and veneration, all converging upon the
carriage in which the Royal Lady sat, unrestrainedly weeping in sympathy with
the overflowing emotion of her subjects. Yes, and her subjects wept also-- wept
for pure joy and depth of feeling-- and those hard-headed business men forgot
their calculations and their anxieties, forgot themselves and their sordid
financial considerations utterly for the time, and were transported into a
higher world, lifted clear out of themselves, up to a plane of thought and
feeling which many of them had not touched since early days of innocent
childhood.
666.
An unique experience, not easily to be had in prosaic times like these,
but a most salutary one, which could not but leave a beneficial impression upon
everyone who passed through it. That strong soul-shaking was transient, no
doubt, yet every heart had for the moment been stirred to its profoundest depths
by noble, unselfish emotion, and every heart was the better for it.
667.
A similar and even more splendid exhibition of unselfish emotion has
taken place recently at the Coronation of His Majesty King George V. I had not
myself the privilege of seeing that in the physical body; but an account from
those clairvoyants who did see it shows that it must have surpassed even that
other demonstration.
668.
WAR
669.
Another occasional event-- happily very occasional and growing rarer and
rarer-- which profoundly stirs the hearts of the people, is war. Now I suppose
that few at the present day would venture to deny that war is an absurd and
atrocious anachronism. If we pause for a moment to think, we all know perfectly
well that the result of a battle does not in the least decide the original
question at issue. It may show which army has the cleverest general or the
greatest weight of artillery; it certainly does not show which side is
in the right in the quarrel, if there be any right. So far as individuals are
concerned, all except the very lowest classes have passed beyond the stage of
attempting to decide personal disputes by ordeal of battle; when our convictions
as to a boundary line differ pronouncedly from our neighbour' s, we no longer
assemble our servants and try to argue the matter with rifles or bludgeons, but
we refer the case instead to a tribunal in whose impartiality we both have
reasonable confidence.
670.
As nations, however, we are not yet at the level of evolution which we
have reached as individuals; we are willing (some of us) to submit comparatively
unimportant matters of dispute to arbitration, but there is as yet no court in
which the races of the world have sufficient trust to accept its decision in a
question vital to their existence. So the irrational appeal to brute force still
remains as a possibility hovering ever in the background of national life like a
menacing thundercloud.
671.
Poets have sung of the glories of war, but the legions of the Red Cross,
who go forth not to hurt but to help, who come upon the battle-field after the
rifle and the cannon have done their work-- these can tell us something of the
true meaning of war, and of all the ghastly horrors involved in the gallant
defence or the successful charge. War may still be sometimes a necessity-- the
lesser of two evils; but it is so only because our boasted civilisation is still
lamentably deficient. Yet, horrible and senseless though it be, it is capable in
a certain way of utilisation; it has its part to play at an early stage of
evolution.
672.
Unquestionably the egos incarnated in the Zulu hordes, that did not
hesitate to march to certain death at the command of Chaka or Cetewayo, acquired
in that way qualities of obedience, self-control and self-sacrifice which will
be valuable to them in later births amid surroundings where they can be put to
more rational use; and it is to the Zulu level of development that war properly
belongs. The same lessons, however, are needed by many who obtain birth in
higher races than the Zulu; and without abating one jot of our horror of the
ghastly cruelty and senselessness of war, we may yet admit that such devotion to
the abstract idea of patriotism as will lead a man to be ready to die for it,
means a distinct advance upon the normal attitude of the class from which our
common soldiers are chiefly drawn. Those who are closely acquainted with our
agricultural population cannot have failed also to observe the difference which
military or naval training makes in the young man-- how, from being slow of
speech and comprehension, he becomes alert, dexterous, resourceful and
self-respecting. Unfortunately he sometimes picks up other and less desirable
habits at the same time, but at least he is less bovine and more human.
673.
There is, however, no reason why an excellent system of physical training
should not be universally adopted even when peace reigns supreme, so that we
might gain all the benefit which is at present derived by those who are trained
in the army and navy, without the sinful and ridiculous waste of life and money
in actual warfare. A step in this direction is already being taken by the
admirable organisation called the Boy Scouts, and it is fervently to be hoped
that this may spread over the whole world, so that its benefits may be shared by
all.
674.
Terrible and wicked though it be, war, when it does occur (that is, when
it cannot longer be prevented), is always utilised and turned to at least some
sort of compensatory good by the Authorities who stand behind. It is sometimes
employed also as an alternative to something still worse, or a smaller war is
permitted in order to avoid a more disastrous one.
675.
I have been told that if the war which England recently waged in South
Africa had not taken place, a colossal and terrible European war would have been
inevitable, which would have involved far more widespread destruction. It is
also certain that that war was utilised to bind more closely together the
different parts of the British Empire, so that in standing side by side upon the
battle-field men might learn to become more brotherly and to understand one
another better. Indeed, that is an effect which has often followed upon war,
that the factions within a country have agreed to forget their differences in
the face of the common enemy. The attack of Italy upon Tripoli may or may not be
in the abstract justifiable; but no one who has lived in the country can doubt
that it has had its value in bringing the somewhat heterogeneous population of
Italy into a closer unity than ever before-- into a realisation of its
solidarity as a nation.
676.
The hidden side of the actual fighting is perhaps less remarkable than
might be expected. The sound-forms produced by the discharge of artillery and by
the ceaseless rattling of the rifles are naturally of a striking nature, but as
far as the astral world is concerned, a surging mass of confusion is the
principal characteristic in the neighbourhood of the battle-field.
677.
There is inevitably a certain amount of fear coming from those who are
new to the ghastly work; but there is usually comparatively little of actual
hatred. The pain and grief of the wounded are terrible enough, yet even then
there is in most cases little of hatred or personality. There is generally a
strong sense of order, obedience, determination, coming perhaps principally from
the officers and the older soldiers. But unless the spectator senses the
thought-forms of the generals, it is difficult to get any coherent idea of the
scene as a whole.
678.
Many invisible helpers are brought together during a battle, to receive
the dead and extend to them any assistance of which they may be in need. But,
taking it as a whole, there is far more feeling excited about war in the minds
of countrymen and relations than in those of the soldiers themselves who
actually take part in it.
679.
CATASTROPHES
680.
Sometimes great catastrophes other than war overtake the world. Two
hundred thousand people perished suddenly in an earthquake at Messina; what is
the occult side of such a happening as that? The inner sight helps us to look
more understandingly on such events as this, and while we pity the sufferers no
less, we yet avoid the feeling of overwhelming horror and dismay which paralyses
many at the thought of such an occurrence. Let us think calmly, analytically,
what really happened in that case. Two hundred thousand people were suddenly
released from the burden of the flesh. Surely we have no need to pity them.
We cannot speak of them as sufferers, for they have been lifted suddenly and
painlessly into a higher and happier life, and in such a catastrophe as this
there is really less of suffering than in connection with many isolated cases of
death.
681.
The suffering caused by sudden death is never to the dead man, but to the
relations who, not understanding the facts of death, suppose themselves to have
lost him. But precisely in a great catastrophe of this nature, few are left to
mourn for the others, since the families within a certain area are almost all
destroyed. The direct relations in most cases die together, and those who are
left to mourn are more distant relations settled in far-away districts.
682.
Some there were beyond doubt who suffered terribly-- men who were wounded
and left for days awaiting succour; others who were shut in beneath heaps of
ruins and suffocated or starved to death. Towards these indeed our keenest
sympathy may well go forth. Yet remember that they can have been at most but
few, a smaller number than those who die of starvation every week in our capital
city of London, for starvation is not merely absolute lack of food for a certain
number of days. A man who has insufficient food, or bad food containing
insufficient nourishment, for a period of years, is starving to death quite as
surely as the man who for a few days has no food at all, and there is far more
prolonged suffering in the former case than in the latter.
683.
But again, it may be said, in the earthquake there was a vast amount of
suffering, because many people were rendered homeless, and because they were
bereft of their ordinary supplies of food.
That again is true, and to those also our heartiest sympathy must
be extended. Indeed, we know that the whole world did so extend it, and from the
occult view by far the most important effect of that earthquake was the great
wave of sympathy and pity which came rolling in upon the place from every part
of the habitable globe to which the news had been carried.
684.
It is not death which we should regard as an evil fate; our Theosophical
knowledge has at least taught us that. It is never the dead whom we should pity,
but the living who still suffer under all the cramping restrictions of this
strange physical plane. For those whose consciousness knows no other world, it
seems terrible to have to quit this; a man whose sight ranges over the higher
worlds knows, with a vivid certainty that nothing can shake, that, if one is to
consider happiness alone, the happiest moment for every man is that in which he
escapes from this world into the wider and more real life above.
685.
Granted that our life here is a necessity, that we have development to
make which can be made only under these hard conditions; it is for that reason
that our physical life is necessary, and so we come forth into it as a man goes
forth from his home to some unpleasant task which nevertheless he knows must be
done. Pity by all means the poor fellow who is exiled from that higher life, but
do not waste your sorrow upon those who have gone home again to the glory, the
beauty and the rest.
686.
Seen from the physical world everything is distorted, because we see only
so tiny a part of it, and then with strange stupidity insist upon taking that
for the whole. Occultism teaches us a finer proportion, and brings our life into
perspective for us, and so, while we lack nothing of sympathy for all who
suffer, we yet learn that those who most need our sympathy are not those upon
whom the undiscerning world showers it most freely.
687.
All worlds alike are part of the great Solar Deity; in Him “we live and
move and have our being,” and since we cannot fall away from His presence nor
escape His guiding hand, what matters all the rest?
688.
CHAPTER XII
689.
BY UNSEEN BEINGS
690.
SENSITIVE PEOPLE
691.
THE occasional events to which we have hitherto referred have been such
as might come into the life of almost anyone. There is another class of
occasional events which usually come only to a certain type of people; but upon
those people they exercise an influence so great that it cannot readily be
measured-- great enough often to alter the whole current of a life. There are
those among us who are more sensitive than the majority of men, who dream dreams
and see visions; and to these people their visions are the most important fact
of life. Naturally also, such people are attracted to the study of occultism, so
that the proportion of them among our readers is likely to be far greater than
in the world which cares for none of these things. To these visions also there
is a hidden side, one which it is of great importance to study.
692.
Visions are of many kinds-- some trivial and unimportant, others
profoundly interesting and productive of far-reaching effects to those who
experience them. In some cases their genesis is obvious; in others curious and
unexpected associations play their part, and a number of quite separate causes
may combine to produce what seems to be a single story.
693.
As I have written several books upon the conditions of the astral world,
it not unfrequently happens that persons who have had psychic experiences or
visions which they have not fully comprehended, send me accounts of them and ask
me whether my experience along these lines suggests any explanation. Such
letters are not always easy to answer-- not that there is usually any difficulty
in formulating a hypothesis which will fit the facts, but because there are too
many such hypotheses. Almost every experience described might equally easily
have been produced in any one of half-a-dozen ways, and without undertaking a
special and detailed investigation it is often impossible to say which of these
methods was employed in a particular case. Naturally, but few of the hundreds of
cases submitted are of sufficient general interest to warrant such expenditure
of time and force; but occasionally one is encountered which is specially
characteristic-- so good an example of its type that an analysis of it might
conceivably be of use to many others to whom similar experiences have come.
694.
A REMARKABLE CASE
695.
Such an one came to me recently from a lady-- an account of a long and
complicated vision or series of visions, coupled with impressive experiences,
which had left behind them a permanent result. In order to understand what had
really happened a certain amount of investigation was necessary, in course of
which it became evident that several distinct factors had come into play to
produce the curious effects described. Each of these factors had to be followed
up separately and traced to its source, and I think that students can hardly
fail to be interested in an examination of the way in which these independent
and disconnected causes worked to bring forth a somewhat startling whole.
696.
I give here an epitome of the story as sent to me, using in many cases
the exact words of the narrator, but condensing as much as I can without losing
the spirit and style of the original. It should be premised that the lady had
become dissatisfied with the religious doctrines of her childhood, and had
commenced the study of comparative religion, reading several Theosophical
books-- among others The Secret Doctrine. She was very earnestly
desirous to know the truth and to make whatever progress might be possible for
her. In the course of her reading she came across Swami Vivekananda' s book on
Raja Yoga, and practised the breathing exercises therein recommended.
The result was that she rapidly developed a certain kind of clairvoyance and
began to write automatically. For some five days she indulged her astral
controls, writing all day long whatever they wished.
697.
It seems that she was strongly opposed to the idea of capital punishment,
and had felt great sympathy and pity for a murderer who had recently been
executed in her neighbourhood. Among other entities this dead murderer came and
communicated, and brought with him other men of the same stamp. She made the
most earnest efforts to help these people, trying in every way to give them hope
and comfort and to teach them as much of Theosophy as she knew. She soon found,
however, that the murderer dominated and obsessed her, and that she was unable
to eject him. Her case became rapidly worse, and her life and reason hung in the
balance. For a long time no suggestion, no effort, mitigated her sufferings,
though she prayed continually with all the power of her soul.
698.
At last one day she became conscious of the presence of another being who
brought her relief. He told her that the prayer of her spirit had been
recognised, that he had been appointed as her ` guide,' and that because of her
spiritual development and the power which she had shown in prayer, she was
considered especially hopeful and was about to be the recipient of most unusual
favours. In fact, he said so much about her remarkable position and the
recognition which she had gained, that she asked wonderingly:
699.
“Who then am I?”
700.
“You are Buddha,” was the startling reply.
701.
“And who are you? ” she asked.
702.
“I am the Christ,” he answered, “and I will now take charge of you.”
703.
Our correspondent here showed her commonsense and her great superiority
over the majority of those who receive such communications by absolutely
refusing to believe these astonishing statements, but she nevertheless accepted
the guidance (and the teaching upon other points) of the entity who made these
astounding claims.
704.
He then told her that she was to pass through an initiation, and that if
she succeeded she would be admitted to the “council of heaven,” which had been
called together to decide whether the world should now be destroyed, or whether
yet another effort for its salvation should be made. He urged her to hasten to
qualify herself to attend this meeting while the fate of the world still hung in
the balance, so that she might give her voice in favour of salvation. Her
attitude of mind was rather curious; she certainly did not accept these
extravagant claims, but still she half-believed that there was some great work
to be done, and she was willing to continue the experiment and submit herself to
the guidance of the entity who had saved her from obsession.
705.
As a preliminary to the initiation she was directed to have a bed put
into a room where she could lock the door, to lie down upon it and make herself
comfortable. The guide then instructed her to breathe the yoga breath as taught
by Vivekananda. He told her that her previous efforts had raised the
serpent-fire to the solar plexus, and that now she must raise it to the brain--
a process in which he would help and direct her.
706.
She describes the sensations which followed as exactly resembling the
travail of a woman in labour, except that the pain was along the spine, and it
seemed that the birth was to take place in the brain. Many times her sufferings
were so excruciating that she grew desperate and was about to abandon the
struggle, but the guide seemed most anxious and always implored her not to
yield, but to carry through the ordeal to the end. He hovered over her like an
attendant physician or nurse, encouraging, directing, helping, doing everything
that he could to assist the birth. At last she prevailed, and she asserts that
the birth appeared to her just as definite and real a thing as that of one of
her own children. When it had taken place the guide was greatly relieved, and
exclaimed: “Thank God it is over.”
707.
This extraordinary experience was, however, only the prelude to a long
series of marvellous visions, lasting altogether through twelve days of our
physical time. These visions were partly of a directly personal character, and
partly of the nature of general instruction-- often incoherent and
indescribable, yet always interesting and impressive. The personal part
consisted of her relation with the so-called “council of heaven” and the result
of her dealings with it, and also included some curious symbolical visions in
which persons well known to her in physical life seemed to play the part of the
world which she was trying to save and of the arch-enemy Satan, a fallen angel
who resisted her. She pertinently remarks that this was all the more strange
since for many years she had quite outgrown any belief in a personal devil or in
the necessity of what is ordinarily called ` salvation' .
708.
The general instruction was broadly Theosophical in its character, and
referred chiefly to the stages of creation and the evolution of the various
root-races. She describes the first stage of this as follows:
709.
“I then beheld a wonderful vision. At first in the midst of darkness I
saw a vast Darkness which seemed to brood and brood for ages. Then a slight
movement began, as if it might be the faintest dream in this great
darkness. Little by little the movement increased, until at last a definite
thought seemed to evolve. Little by little constantly changing forms
appeared. All was chaos. Even the forms were in the midst of chaos, and the
travail of the Universe was terrible. All was one. It seemed as if the effort to
evolve order and to make of so many forms a unit, demonstrated beyond doubt that
all was made by One Great Being, and that the pain and responsibility were felt
by Him alone. This continued for a long time, with another expression of
birth-giving, with enlarging results and unchanging solemnity.
710.
“I do not know when I first began to see souls. It must have
been early in the wonderful exhibition; for I remember very distinctly how
thickly they lay everywhere in the midst of chaos, and in the midst of forms. In
the continual vibration of this marvellous evolution these souls were swallowed
up in forms, which forms again changed to souls. These souls were egg-shaped and
of all sizes, from tiny ones to larger ones, but none so large as I saw later in
a wonderful sequel.
711.
“After a time the panorama of marvels changed and the world assumed a
shape familiar to my mode of thought. Symbol upon symbol passed, including all
history and mythology. Thousands of pictures passed in review, as if revealing
the whole of Cosmos and of history. I can recall but few now, but one will serve
as an illustration.
712.
“I saw a cow of immense proportions-- almost as large as one of our
mountains. A ladder was placed against her, and a man crept slowly and
laboriously up the ladder, round by round. He represented Humanity. When at last
he reached her back, he stretched forward and grasped both her horns. Humanity
claimed the products and bounty of the earth for all, not for a few only. My
guide called the cow ` The cow of Demeter' . My reading of the classics had
taught me that Demeter represented the earth.”
713.
It was apparently at this stage that she was introduced to the “council
of heaven”. She found it to consist of a small number of colossal figures seated
in a semicircle. The members seemed impatient with the world and determined that
it should be destroyed, but she begged most earnestly that another chance should
be given to humanity, saying that she had lived and died many times for the
world, and was quite ready to devote herself once more to its service. Her guide
told her afterwards that she had no idea in the physical world how eloquent she
had been in her pleadings on that occasion. There seems to have been some
difference of opinion in the council, but eventually the majority yielded to her
prayer, and promised to send help to her and to her guide in order that they
might work for the world. (An examination into the truth lying behind this
remarkable vision of the “council of heaven” was one of the most interesting
features of the investigation, of which I shall write later.) After this the
semi-theosophical visions were resumed. Once more I quote the words of her
letter:
714.
“That night other visions succeeded, but the story of symbology changed.
I saw a valley in which lay the human race, and over it hovered a swarm of
beings clad in white, but the whiteness radiated no light. Humanity was dark and
shadowed. I rushed to awaken them, but at my approach the white-clad figures
rushed into strong, determined and powerful groups to prevent my accomplishing
my purpose. I recognised that they were deceiving spirits, self-appointed
teachers and preachers of the earth, and that they resolutely beat down and held
down the dazed and shadowed humanity. But even as I looked I saw here and there
an awakening soul among the human multitude. As this soul awoke it grew luminous
as with a light from within, and at the same time it arose from its prone
position and began to move about over the sleeping world, trying to arouse
others. I seemed to stand on a distant mountain, but could distinctly see
whenever a soul began to awaken and to shine, and before the vision passed, many
of these radiant lights seemed to burst out here and there, and even a golden
light of sun-rays began to gild the tops of the surrounding mountains, and the
whiterobed figures fled as this golden radiance increased. They, however,
continued to exercise themselves in strenuous endeavours to counteract and
oppose my efforts to help the world or to live my life.
715.
“All night the visions continued, but those towards morning were vague.
My guide awoke me and told me to get up and get a cup of coffee and to gather
myself together, as I was so much in the spirit as to be about to depart from
the body altogether. When I had obeyed I found myself dazed. All the time in
which I was endeavouring to make a fire and to prepare the cup of coffee, my
guide was present and I was conscious of a most wonderful condition. Angels
seemed to surround me and to sing hymns of thanksgiving. It was Thanksgiving
morning, and the former inclemency of the weather had given place to balminess.
I opened the door and turned my face to the south-west. I felt myself surrounded
by supernal Beings, and sang with them a wonderful hymn of praise and
thanksgiving. It resembled the Assumption of the Virgin-mother, the immaculate
conception, the birth and presence of the wonderful Child at once. A peculiarly
refreshing but unfamiliar odour permeated the atmosphere. My guide said that the
angels were burning frankincense. Later in the day my guide again told me to go
to bed.
716.
“The vision was most wonderful. Again I beheld Creation, but this time it
was different. I saw the races in the aggregate. As the races appeared and
vanished, my guide said solemnly: ` And the evening and the morning were the
first day,' ` And the evening and the morning were the second day,' etc.
Somehow, though I cannot now explain it, although I felt that I understood it at
the time, the fifth race was born in the fourth day, and seemed to be of special
importance. To that birth my special attention was called, as the full-fledged
fifth-race man lay stretched on the hands of a great Being, and was held out to
me to observe. In this vision I saw that, up to the fifth race, mankind was all
sorts. Some were large and some were small. Chaos prevailed, and there was
little order anywhere in the human universe. But after the birth of the fifth
race man I saw that all had become equal and all worked in perfect harmony. I
saw also, at this time, that the race took solid form, like a phalanx-- the
form, however, being circular-- and that a band was slipped around the whole
mass, passing from man to man, and that no man could get outside of that binding
band. The passing of the race was marked by the whole human race being suddenly
transformed into the soul form-- egg-shaped.
717.
“In the sixth race the development was very marked indeed. The
individuals were equal, but much larger than in the fifth race. The tendency of
the whole race was much more upward, and the movement had become greatly
accelerated. At some time towards the close of the fifth or the beginning of the
sixth-- I cannot accurately recall just when-- I saw sunlight again gilding the
peaks. The race emerged from shadow into sunlight, and the onward and upward
tendency became swifter and swifter. Then, the hour having once more struck, the
eggs lay together just as do the eggs in a nest, but their number was countless.
718.
“My guide left me here. He said he could not go on with me, that I must
go on alone and interpret for myself the meaning of my visions. He warned me to
be careful not to give up my life; for upon my going through successfully and
not giving up my life would depend my success and the salvation of the world,
for which all this that we had seen had been done. In other words, I believed
myself to be passing through a terrible ordeal for the salvation of the world.
719.
“As I beheld the development of the seventh race I seemed to go to
unimaginable altitudes indeed. The band that I first saw binding the fifth race
was strongly encompassing the sixth and seventh races. It became unbreakable.
And as I looked into the faces of the men of the seventh race, I saw that
gradually they shone more and more brightly with an inner light. Their radiance
no longer came from without, but each was shining, living, dazzling light.
720.
“My body was now very weary, and when evening came I begged for rest. But
this was not given. I was put through many trials. Many were terrible, and it
required the utmost exertion of my powers to enable me to endure. What was the
nature of this I do not know. I know only that I promised to deliver God' s
message under any and all conditions, no matter what they might be, if He should
require it. But the trials were awful. At one time I refused the visions, though
they were becoming more and more beautiful. They then ceased, and I seemed to
find myself in the power of Satan. (All these orthodox terms I personally had
long disclaimed but they became real again in the visions.)
721.
“For a time I believed that as a punishment for my perverseness, or
rather as a result of this mistake, I had lost all. The awful crisis had passed.
The world was lost as a result of my failure; and now it seemed to be not only
this world, but the Universe. How I prayed and struggled then! Before
all could be restored I promised not only to give up my life but the lives of my
children and even the very life of my soul, if need be for the
salvation of the world.
722.
“I cannot linger here. Towards morning a wonderful breath came into my
body, going up and down the spine as if there were absolutely no physical
obstruction in my body, and as it breathed or flowed through me, it sang a
wonderful, divine anthem, and ended in a marvellous union, in which I felt
myself fully united with God. That was a condition it were folly to attempt to
describe.
723.
“During this time I beheld a new series of visions-- all of glory. There
were no forms that I can recall, but glory after glory of colour, each
brighter and grander than the last. At last it was a wonderful violet, and as it
shone upon me in unspeakable glory, I was told that I might go on and see God if
I would. I asked if from there I might return, and was told that if I went on I
could not return. I then said once more, as I had done in a hundred other
trials: ` I must live to save the world.' And as I said that and refused to go
on, the sun rose in the world, where I was then conscious, and I looked up at my
beautiful vision, thinking how dull the sun was, and then gradually the vision
faded.
724.
“Just when, I cannot say, but about this time, I was laid on a cross
during the night, placed in a sepulchre, and believed my body was dead.
My physical heart, as I thought, was arrested, and the pain which I
endured was excruciating. But the bliss of my soul in the higher visions was as
great as was the pain in the body in the sacrificial trials.
725.
“After this I must desist from any effort at description. I really cannot
tell the strange things that befell me, nor are they clear in my memory. One of
the ideas was that I was put through preparation for the work I was to do;
another, I seemed to hear, and be a part of, involution as well as evolution.
Perhaps it represented the experiences of the soul preparing for incarnation.
726.
“When at last I came out of it all, I found my sorrow-stricken family
around my bed. They had thought that I was dying. From the beginning of my
abnormal condition to the final close had been twelve days, and for five days
and nights I had not slept. On the last day, I had believed myself that after
all I was not to live longer in this world, and when I awoke to full and normal
consciousness, the voice that I had heard so mysteriously gradually faded away,
as did the visions, and neither have appeared to me since.
727.
“But since then, I have been conscious of a new spiritual life, and in
meditation I reach a blissful condition, and I feel sure that some wonderful
thing has happened to me.”
728.
THE VISION INVESTIGATED
729.
It must be understood that the extracts given above are only a small part
of the visions described by our correspondent, but I think that I have given a
fair sample of them, and have not omitted any point of special interest.
730.
Anyone who is accustomed to analyse psychic phenomena will at once see
that there are in the account several features which differentiate it from the
average. Many visions, even though quite elaborate and detailed, and intensely
realistic to the seer, prove on examination to be entirely self-created. I mean
that a man first thinks out a subject himself along certain lines, thereby
creating a series of thought-forms; and then he proceeds to pass out of his body
in sleep or trance, sees his own thought-forms without recognising them as his,
and supposes them to be actualities instead of imperfect reflections. Thus he is
strongly confirmed in his particular belief or superstition, whatever it happens
to be, because he himself has seen it in a vision which he is sure to regard as
celestial. Such a man is of course perfectly honest in his conviction, and even
perfectly right in saying that he has seen certain things; the weak point is
that he has not the training which would enable him to distinguish the nature of
what he has seen. In the case now before us, however, there are various little
touches, which are extremely unlikely to have been the thoughts of the seer, and
there is considerable evidence that a mind differing much from hers must have
been responsible for a great deal of what was seen.
731.
As our correspondent was anxious to understand the genesis of her
visions, and as their history gave promise of somewhat unusual features, it
seemed worth while to make a definite investigation into the matter.
732.
A rapport was therefore obtained with the lady, and it was
further found necessary to examine the astral and mental records connected with
her, and thus ascertain what had really happened to her. It was soon obvious
that many distinct factors entered into the matter, and it was only by patiently
disentangling the threads and following each one up to its origin that all the
causes could be clearly seen. To put the case briefly:
733.
The lady, as hundreds of other people have done, had got herself into
serious trouble by an unwise use of breathing exercises. Her desperate efforts
to escape from the result of these exercises attracted the attention of a dead
man who was strong enough to be of some use to her. But this man had objects of
his own to gain-- objects not consciously selfish, but belonging to a curious
personal delusion of his-- and as he helped her he realised that he had here
what might be a powerful instrument for the furtherance of his plans. He
promptly modified his scheme, gave her a prominent part in it, and pushed her on
into experiences which without him she would probably not have had for several
incarnations yet.
734.
Much of what resulted was evidently not at all what he had expected,
though he tried bravely to turn it all to account. Eventually he dropped her,
partly because he was alarmed at the turn which matters were taking, and partly
because he began to see that he could not use her quite as he had hoped. The
outcome of the whole adventure, so far as our correspondent is concerned, has
been good, but this is a piece of good fortune for which she cannot be too
thankful, since the risks were enormous, and by any ordinary calculations there
was scarcely the barest possibility that she would escape with her life and with
reason unimpaired from such an experience.
735.
In order to comprehend all that occurred we must first try to understand
what manner of man was this ` guide,' and how he came to be what he was. During
physical life he had been a small farmer, a kindly but ignorant man, fanatically
religious in a narrow protestant way. His only literature was the Christian
Bible, over which he pored during the long winter evenings until his whole life
became saturated with his conception of its teachings. Needless to say, his
conceptions were usually misconceptions, often so grossly material as to be
ludicrous, yet the man was so thoroughly in earnest that it was impossible to
laugh at him.
736.
He lived in a thinly populated part of the country, and as he found his
few neighbours out of sympathy with his religious views he became more and more
a recluse as years rolled by, living frugally on the produce of a small part of
his farm, and devoting himself with increasing ardour to the study of his one
book. This constant brooding over one idea brought him eventually into a
condition of religious monomania, in which he came to believe himself the chosen
saviour of the world, the Christ who was destined to offer to it once more the
opportunity of salvation which two thousand years ago it had received only very
partially. A prominent feature in his scheme was the rescue from its false
belief of the vast mass of non-Christian humanity, and his idea was that this
should be done not along ordinary missionary lines but through the influence of
its own great leaders. It was this part of his programme which induced him to
take so keen an interest in our correspondent, as we shall see later.
737.
While still fully possessed by these religious delusions the worthy
farmer died. Naturally enough,
his astral life was simply a continuation of the physical, raised as it were to
a higher power. He soon found himself amidst the crude thought-forms of the
golden Jerusalem, a special corner of which he seems to have modelled for
himself to suit his idiosyncrasies. The result of his efforts to visualise the
descriptions given in the Apocalypse were sometimes really ingenious and
original. I noticed specially his image of the four and twenty elders bowing
perpetually in adoration before the throne, and casting at the feet of the deity
their golden crowns, which immediately rose from the ground and fluttered back
automatically on to their heads, only to be cast down again. His “sea of glass
mingled with fire” was not altogether successful, and looked rather like some
unusually weird product of a volcanic eruption. His image of the All-Father was
quite conventional-- a stern-looking old man with a long white beard. In the
earlier part of his physical life he had evidently had a thought-image of the
Christ-- the usual impossible combination of a crucifix and a lamb bearing a
flag; but during the later period, when he was persuaded that he himself was the
Christ, this figure had not been strengthened, and it was consequently
inconspicuous and inactive.
738.
It is among these thought-forms of his that we have to seek for the
“council of heaven” which plays a part in our correspondent' s vision, and the
constitution of that council proved to be both interesting and instructive. The
idea seems originally to have been that the council was a sort of selection of
about ten of the more important biblical characters (Elijah, Moses, Peter, etc.)
represented by colossal figures seated in a semicircle on uncomfortable-looking
high-backed golden chairs, which, though supposed to be celestial thrones, were
manifestly derived from an imperfect recollection of the sedillia in some Gothic
cathedral. The deity himself presided over their deliberations.
739.
Originally the members of this council had obviously been nothing but
thought-forms; but at the time when cur enquiries brought us into contact with
them, several of them had been seized and ensouled by living entities, and this
ensoulment introduced some new and interesting factors. Two of these entities
were dead men, both of them religious people, each working from his own point of
view. One of them was a man of German extraction, who during earth-life had been
a shoe-maker-- a simple and uninstructed man not altogether unlike the former.
He too had studied the Bible diligently; he too was a dreamer of vague, mystical
dreams; he too felt that he had a special revelation or interpretation to offer
to the world-- something far more rational than the farmer' s. He had come to
feel that the essential truth of Christianity lay in the mystical union of
Christ and his heavenly bride, the Church. To him the Christ was far less the
historical personality of the Gospels than the living spirit of the Church, and
the task of the true Christian was to awaken within himself the Christ-spirit.
The message which humanity needed, he thought, was that every man could and
should become a Christ-- a message which seemed to him so clear and simple that
it needed only to be delivered to command instant attention, and thus to save
the world from sin and lift it at once into the light of truth. He had begun
preaching to this effect while still on the physical earth, but had died before
he had done much towards the conversion of humanity.
740.
Arriving in the astral world, he was still as eager as ever to spread his
views, and having met the farmer he struck up a friendship with him. They had
much in common, and each felt that the other might be helpful to him in the
prosecution of his scheme. The shoemaker did not recognise the farmer as the
sole Christ, but he did apply his theory to him, and consider him as a person in
whom the Christ-spirit was exceptionally developed. The farmer understood only
vaguely the shoe-maker' s central idea, but he realised that he had found some
one who was willing to co-operate in saving the world. Each regarded the other
as somewhat eccentric, but still each with a simple cunning thought that he
could make use of the other for his own purposes.
741.
Between them they had conceived this curious idea of a “council of
heaven” of which they were both members; or possibly they may have found a
thought-form of this kind made by some one else, and may simply have adopted it
and joined themselves to it. The thought-forms as viewed by trained vision were
clumsy and imperfect, though no doubt quite satisfactory to their makers. Moses,
for example, was seriously incomplete. He sat, stiff and rigid, as though glued
to his uncomfortable golden throne, but in reality he was only a face and front
projecting from the chair, and had never been properly finished off behind. In
this respect be resembled many of the thought-forms found in the Summerland,
where it is not infrequent to see mothers fondling children which are defective
in exactly the same way. The creators of such forms are always completely happy
with them and never perceive their imperfections, for though there is no life in
such dolls except the thought which is put into them, that thought will always
respond to its generator and do exactly what it is expected to do. Peter was
another very inefficient person on this council-- quite insignificant-looking;
but at least he carried a large bunch of keys, the jingling of which was his
principle contribution to the deliberations.
742.
While the majority of this council was of the type just described, the
thought-forms of the deity, of S. Paul (the image chosen for occupation by the
shoemaker) and of the prophet Elijah were much more definite and original. The
latter indeed quite surprised us by his activity, and on examination it was
found that he, too, was being occupied (for at least used as a kind of
mouthpiece) by another dead man, a Welshman, who at some early period in his
earth-life had gone through the experience called ` conversion,' and had later
on emigrated to America, where he had lived for some years and eventually died.
During his physical life he had always been seeking religious experiences of the
emotional type; for instance, he had attended some of the negro revival
meetings, and had there witnessed and taken part in the celebrated “Jerusalem
jump.” Intermingled with his religion were curious socialistic proclivities, and
his dream was of a golden millennium which was half irrational, emotional
Chiristianity and half materialistic Socialism.
743.
He had grasped rather more than the others the relation between the
physical and astral worlds, and the possibilities of the latter, and he
understood that before he could hope to influence the physical world he must
somehow or other get into touch with it. He was not thinking of reincarnation,
for he had never heard of such an idea; but he knew that he had passed from the
physical world into the astral, and therefore he thought there must be some way
of passing back again. His attention was much occupied with this problem, and
when he became aware that the farmer had found a medium through whom he could
come to some extent into touch with the physical world, he decided to make use
of both in any way that he could. This seemed a possible first step in the
direction of gaining his ends, and it occurred to him to enter the thought-form
of Elijah in the “council of heaven” as a means of presently introducing himself
on such a footing as would at once ensure respect from the others. I do not
think he was in any way self-seeking or self-conceited in doing this; it was to
him simply a means to an end, providentially put in his way.
744.
But now ensued an unexpected result. Masquerading thus as Elijah, he
tried to bear himself as he thought the prophet would have done, and to impart
an Old-Testament flavour to his impersonation. This reacted upon his ordinary
astral life; he began to live all the while in the character, and by degrees to
wonder whether he was not really Elijah! He is literally in process of
transforming himself, and will assuredly soon be a confirmed monomaniac. At the
time of our investigation he still knew that he was a Welshman who occasionally
impersonated Elijah; but I feel certain that in the near future he will pass
beyond that stage, and will be as sure that he is really Elijah as the farmer is
that he is the Christ.
745.
Meantime he had not yet introduced himself as the Welshman to the other
human members of the council, but flattered himself that as Elijah he was
inspiring great respect and in fact directing their decisions. We have,
therefore, the astonishing spectacle of a council whose only effective members
were three dead men, each one of whom thought that he was manipulating the
others for the furtherance of his own objects; and yet none of those objects was
selfish, and all the men concerned were religious, well-meaning and honest in
intention. Only in the astral world would such an extraordinary combination be
possible; yet the most astounding and the most characteristic fact still remains
to be told.
746.
It has been already mentioned that the All-Father himself was supposed to
preside over the meetings of the council. He was of course a thought-form like
all the rest, but he occasionally manifested a spasmodic and inappropriate
activity which showed the presence of some exterior force, different in quality
from the others. Careful investigation showed that just as the form of Elijah
was ensouled by the Welshman, so was this form of the deity ensouled by-- a
frolicsome nature-spirit!
747.
I have already described some of the characteristics of this delightful
kingdom of Nature. It may be remembered what a keen pleasure some of such
creatures take in theatrical performances among themselves, in any sort of
masquerade (most especially if thereby they can gain the triumph of deceiving or
frightening a member of the superior human evolution), and also how they enjoy
telling some enthralling tale to their fellows. Bearing this in mind, we shall
at once see that, from the point of view of a tricksy nature-spirit, here was an
absolutely unique opportunity. He could (and did) play a joke on the most
colossal scale conceivable upon three human beings, and we may readily imagine
what a soul-satisfying story he had to tell afterwards to his admiring fellows.
Needless to say, he had not the faintest idea of irreverence ; he would probably
be no more capable of such a conception than a fly would; to him the whole thing
was nothing but an unequalled opportunity for a really gorgeous hoax, and he did
his very best with it.
748.
Of course he could neither understand nor join in the deliberations, so
for the most part he preserved a cryptic silence which was very effective. He
had somehow acquired a small number of biblical phrases appropriate to his part,
and he emptied these out upon the council at intervals as a parrot might,
apparently having no conception of their meaning.
“Thus saith the Lord”; “Amen, so be it”; “I am the Lord thy God;
thou shalt have none other Gods but me”; “I will smite the earth with a curse”--
these were some of the gems of his collection, the specimens of his unconscious
eloquence. Now and again the joke became too much for him, or perhaps the
restraint was irksome, and he abandoned the thought-form for a few moments in
order to relieve his overstrained feelings by wild dancing and outbursts of
laughter, somewhere out of sight of his council. When this happened it was most
interesting to see how the thought-form collapsed from alertness to stolidity,
and the unfortunate human members of the council immediately supposed that
something had occurred to provoke that divine wrath which is always so prominent
a part of this type of religion.
749.
This, then, was the reality behind the awe-inspiring “council of heaven”
before which our correspondent pleaded so earnestly. It will be understood that
only the dead men could really contribute to whatever discussion may have taken
place; the other members of the council could not originate anything, though
they may have had enough vitality to give a formal assent to a proposition.
750.
To understand the part played in the vision by the Theosophical
thought-forms we must glance at the history and mental condition of our
correspondent. Falling away from a rather materialistic form of Christianity,
she became practically an atheist. Then she lost a beloved child; and in such a
nature these various experiences naturally produced deep emotions, each of which
had its part in the moulding of her temperament. At this period she came into
contact with Theosophy, and commenced its study with no less formidable a book
than The Secret Doctrine. Undaunted by its difficulties she applied
herself to it diligently and strove to grasp its teaching, to make mental
pictures of what is described in the Stanzas of Dzyan. Certain of its ideas had
a special attraction for her. The thought of initiation with its mysterious and
dangerous ordeals was one of them; another was the succession of the races,
coupled with the great question as to who shall and who shall not pass the final
test and reach in safety the further shore. All this was inevitably to some
extent coloured by earlier Christian conceptions about “conversion” and `
salvation,' even though at the same time the splendid horizons of the great
oriental religions opened before her.
751.
Thus it came about that she surrounded herself with a great mass of
strong thought-forms of a more or less Theosophical character, and by the very
fact of doing so unconsciously set in motion certain occult laws. In the higher
worlds, like attracts like, and her thought-forms soon drew to themselves others
of similar nature. Some hundreds of miles from where she lived there was an
earnest Theosophical Lodge, which among other activities maintained a Secret
Doctrine class. A vast mass of thought-forms and speculations had been
thrown off by this class, and our correspondent was soon in touch with this
astral storehouse. How the first contact was made I did not observe. Perhaps
when travelling in the astral body our correspondent may have been attracted by
the presentations of subject in which she was so deeply interested; or on the
other hand some member of the class may have astrally noticed her thoughts and
tried to add to them; or it may have been simply that sympathetic vibrations
attracted one another, as they invariably do, without human interference.
However that may have been, the fact remains that she was surrounded by an
enormous body of thought-forms of a particular type, she herself being at the
very same time precisely in the condition to be most deeply affected by them.
752.
At this period she began to practise breathing exercises, and by that
means laid herself open to astral influences. Her keen sympathy with suffering
caused her to seek the dead murderer, or perhaps brought him to her, and the
automatic writing and the obsession followed in the natural course of events.
The murderer put forth all his power to maintain the advantage which he had
gained, and she struggled desperately to protect and free herself, making
herself for the time quite a conspicuous object in the astral world by the
vehemence of her efforts and the amount of energy which she put forth.
753.
As the farmer wandered about, the affray attracted his attention, and in
his character as the Christ he felt it his duty to interfere and expel the
murderer. He had never before encountered so brilliant an astral body, nor had
he seen such impressive surrounding as those of the person whom he had rescued--
a mass of forms at once so unusual in type (connected as it was with cosmic
processes considered from the oriental point of view) and at the same time so
far larger in quantity than any one person normally carries with him. Here were
the forms of oriental Gods, of the founders of religions, of Masters, Adepts,
Angels, and all sorts of magnificent but unfamiliar conceptions. If we remember
that the farmer could not know that these were only thought-forms, but must
inevitably have taken them as actual living beings, we shall see that it is
small wonder that with his ignorance on all such matters and his constant
expectation of celestial assistance in his appointed work, he should feel that
he had been specially guided by providence to help one who could help him in
return-- a person of importance in the oriental world commensurate with that
which he arrogated to himself for the occident. At once he seized his
opportunity; he proclaimed himself as the appointed guide and proceeded to take
charge of the lady' s further development.
754.
A curious fact noticed here was that, though he posed as guide, he was
largely influenced by the thoughts of our correspondent, and in many cases
simply gave her back those thoughts in other language. He knew nothing of the
serpent fire, but he thought of it as some form of divine afflatus; he saw that
some process of awakening was being performed by its aid: and he did his best to
help and encourage this. Their joint efforts succeeded in arousing what may be
called the upper layers of that mysterious force, though fortunately for the
lady, from ignorance as to what is really needed for full achievement, they were
not able to stir it to its depths, otherwise her body would surely have been
destroyed. Further, they evidently did not know through what centres it must be
sent in order to bring continuous consciousness, and so they missed their aim.
But the description given of the sufferings endured is accurate as far as it
goes, and some of the expressions used are strikingly suggestive. How dangerous
their experiments were may be seen from the lady' s account of these sufferings,
and from her family' s testimony as to the condition in which she had been. The
whole story gives a most impressive warning against the risk of attempting
premature development along such lines.
755.
It is useless to criticise in detail what may be called the Theosophical
part of the vision; wonderful, uplifting, awe-inspiring as it no doubt was to
the seer, it after all represents not the actual occurrences of evolution, but
the combination and synthesis of a number of thought-images. Parts of the
symbology are interesting and illuminative, while others obviously require
modification. Certain features, such as the chanting of the angels, are clearly
due to the influence of the Christian stream of thought in the mind of the
guide. He watched the unfolding of the vision along with our correspondent, but
being ignorant of oriental teaching he understood but little of it. For example,
he seems to have confused the successive races with the various tribes of
Israel, and tried to fit in what he saw with the story of the sealing of the
144,000.
756.
It is in the monomania of the guide that we must seek for the cause of
the weighty feeling of responsibility which overshadowed the whole vision, the
conviction that upon our correspondent' s success depended the salvation of the
world. This sort of naïve self-conceit or megalomania is one of the commonest
characteristics of communications from the astral plane. It seems to be one of
the most ordinary illusions of a dead man that, if he can only get some lady to
act as a medium for him, he can revolutionise the entire thought of the planet
by a simple statement of a few self-evident facts. But in this case there was
rather more than the usual excuse for the attitude adopted. The poor farmer was
deeply impressed with the thought that unless the world accepted him this time
it would lose its final chance of salvation, and he propounded this theory one
day to the deity in council at a moment when the nature-spirit happened to be in
charge. It is little likely that the nature-spirit had any clear conception of
the purport of the question, but at least he understood that his assent was
being asked to some proposition or other, so he gave it in his most pompous
manner; and this naturally enough confirmed the farmer in his delusion, and made
it the one dominating thought of his life. Apart from his influence no such
impression would ever have come into the mind of the lady, whose view of her own
position and powers was much saner and more modest.
757.
The personification of the world and the devil in human forms is also due
to the thought of the guide, for the lady herself knew much better than to
believe in the exploded superstition of a personal Satan. This seems to have
come at a period of the experience when she was much exhausted, and therefore
more fully under the domination of the guide' s mind, and less able to exercise
her own natural power of discrimination. The nervous tension attendant upon the
conditions through which she passed must have been indescribable; indeed, it
brought her perilously near to the possibility of physical hallucination. She
writes of certain acts of reverence made to her on the physical earth by
animals, but investigation does not confirm this, showing the actions of the
animals to have been quite normal and dictated by their ordinary instinct,
though the lady in her overstrained condition gave them a different
interpretation.
758.
The special interest of the case to those who examined it was the manner
in which a number of independent and quite ordinary astral factors combined to
produce a dramatic and imposing whole. The ruling force was the will of the
guide, and the strength of his extraordinary delusion; yet this would have been
ineffective, or at least would have worked quite differently, but for the action
of our correspondent in rashly laying herself open to astral influence. The
Secret Doctrine class and its thought-forms, the other dead men on the
council, the sportive nature-spirit-- all these played their part, and if any
one of them had been absent the picture would have been less complete, or the
plot must have worked itself out on other lines.
759.
It seems to me that the story has its value as showing the astonishing
fertility and abundance of the resources of the astral world, and the imperative
necessity of that full knowledge which is only to be gained by thorough occult
training. All through it we see really good and well-intentioned people
deceiving themselves quite pitiably for want of this knowledge-- putting
themselves often into such positions that one cannot wonder that they were
deluded. One must presume that it was needful for them to learn in the hard
school of experience, and it is also well to remember that no trial of this
nature ever comes to any one without an adequate opportunity of preparation. No
one who had studied the Bible as closely as the guide had done could have failed
to remark the warnings therein contained as to possible deception by false
Christs and lying prophets, and even in the book of Svami Vivekananda there is
to be found an earnest adjuration against the premature or promiscuous use of
his instructions. Unfortunately people never will take these cautions to
themselves, but invariably apply them to their neighbours or opponents.
760.
Yet it should be noticed that for our correspondent the outcome was good.
The forms seen were largely illusory, but the high emotions awakened, the awe
and the rapture-- all these produced permanent results which cannot but have in
them much of good. The boundless enthusiasm for spiritual things, the unselfish
desire to help even at the cost of any sacrifice-- these are in themselves
mighty forces, and when generated they evoke a response from worlds far higher
than any which are actually reached by the consciousness in the vision itself.
The feeling is genuine, however imperfectly conceived may be that which
occasions it; and so while we congratulate our correspondent on having come
safely through perils more tremendous than she can readily realise, we may be
permitted to hope that the peace and uplifting which she gained through them may
prove a permanent heritage. The deep sense of union with the divine which
brought with it such bliss was unquestionably a true touch of the lower fringe
of the intuitional world, and to have attained this is no doubt worth all the
suffering through which the patient passed. But the student knows that all that
(and much more) could have been obtained without the pain and without the awful
risk, by the investment of the same amount of energy in the more ordinary
methods which have approved themselves to the wisdom of the ages. To force one'
s way into unknown realms without the guidance of one who really knows, is to
court disaster; and it is a danger to which none need expose himself, for the
old paths are always open, and the old saying still remains true: “When the
pupil is ready the Master appears.”
761.
IN WRITING A BOOK
762.
Many of us are constantly being influenced by unseen entities in a great
many ways of which we have not the slightest idea. We have spoken of pride of
race and caste. This often exists in an even more intense form as pride of
family, and in that case not infrequently it is largely due to the influence of
our ancestors. I have known several cases in which a man contrived to keep
himself for a long time in the astral world in order that he might hover over
his descendants and try to induce them to keep up the pride of their race. The
late Queen Elizabeth, for example, had so intense a love for her country that it
is only quite recently that she has lapsed into the heaven-world, having spent
the whole intervening time in endeavouring, and until recently almost entirely
without success, to impress her successors with her ideas of what ought to be
done for England. Hers is perhaps an extreme case, but in several other royal
families the continuity of tradition which has been maintained has been in the
same way largely due to constant pressure, intentionally exercised, by older
members of the family, from the astral world.
763.
It is by no means uncommon for fathers and mothers who have set their
hearts upon some particular alliance for their sons or daughters to endeavour
even after death to bring about the fulfilment of their wishes. In rarer cases
they have been able to show themselves as apparitions in order to emphasise
their commands. More often they exercise an insidious because unsuspected
influence, by constantly keeping their thought upon the matter before the mind
of the person whom they wish to influence-- a steady pressure which the ordinary
man is likely to take for his own sub-conscious desire.
764.
Cases in which the dead have constituted themselves guardian angels to
the living are exceedingly numerous, and in this way mothers often protect their
sons, and deceased husbands their widows, for many years. Sometimes such
influence is not of a protective character, but is exercised in order that the
dead man may find a means of expressing some ideas which he is anxious to put
before the world. The person upon whom the impression is made is sometimes
conscious of it, and sometimes entirely unconscious. A certain distinguished
novelist has told me that the wonderful plots of his stories invariably come to
him as though by a kind of inspiration, that he writes them without knowing
beforehand how they will work out-- that in fact, as he puts it, they are
actually written through him. Far more often than we think, authors and musical
composers are influenced in this way, so that many books credited to the living
are really the work of the dead.
765.
In some cases the dead man desires to announce his authorship, so that
books confessedly written by the dead are becoming quite a feature of modern
literature; or perhaps a better way to express it would be that many of us are
gradually coming to recognise that there is no such thing as death in the old,
bad sense of the word, and that though a man who has laid aside his physical
body may find a certain difficulty in writing a book with his own hand, he is
quite as capable of dictating one as any living author. Sometimes such books are
moral or metaphysical treatises, but sometimes also they are novels, and in this
latter shape they undoubtedly do good, for they reach many who are quite
unlikely to encounter a more serious essay on occult matters, and would be still
less likely to take the trouble to read it if they did encounter it.
766.
A good specimen of this class (and it is a class which is becoming more
numerous year by year) is The Strange Story of Ahrinziman-- a book
which was brought to my notice some years ago. Let me take it as an example and
explain what it is and how it came to be written. I know that the first impulse
of those who are dozing in the comfortable haze which surrounds the average
intelligence and cushions it against the real facts of life, will naturally, be
to proclaim that the whole thing must be nonsense, on the crude theory that when
a man is dead he is dead, and it is therefore quite impossible that he
should dictate anything; and even those who know better than that may be tempted
to suspect that to assign the authorship to a man out of the body is nothing but
a novel form of advertisement-- a trick of the trade, as it were. So perhaps I
had better begin by saying that I have trustworthy assurance that this book is
at least a genuine dictation from the astral world, though naturally that by no
means guarantees that it is in all other respects what it claims to be.
767.
People who are unacquainted with the conditions of life among those whom
we are in the habit of miscalling “the dead,” seem to find it impossible to
realise how natural in all respects that life is, or to understand that human
nature may and does exhibit all its varied aspects just as quaintly on the other
side of the grave as on this. The dead man has not necessarily been canonised,
nor has he suddenly become grave and reverend; he is exactly the same man as
before, just as susceptible to the influence of vanity or jealousy, just as
capable of making mistakes.
768.
An astral author may employ the same literary machinery as a physical
author, and may cast his tale into any form that pleases him. When we find Mr.
Rider Haggard writing in the first person under the name of Allan Quartermain of
Ludwig Horace Holly, we do not necessarily assume that he is relating personal
experiences of his own, nor even that Quartermain or Holly had a historical
existence. In exactly the same way we must realise that when a dead man dictates
in the first person The Story of Ahrinziman, he may be trying to give
us a more or less modified autobiography, or he may simply be casting an
allegory or a problem-novel into an attractive and striking form; and this
suggestion must no more be considered a reflection upon the bona fides
of the dead author than was the previous sentence a reflection upon that of Mr.
Haggard.
769.
Be this as it may, Ahrinziman tells us a good story-- a story which is
thoroughly oriental in its setting. He describes himself as the illegitimate son
of a Persian king. His mother, a Greek vestal virgin captured in some Persian
foray, is murdered by the rightful queen in a fit of jealousy, and to avoid
further unpleasant expression of this same consuming jealousy, the child is
brought up by a peasant among the mountains in a distant corner of the empire.
The boy is by nature clairvoyant to a certain extent, able to see the
nature-spirits which surround him, and also his dead mother. Presently he comes
into contact with some priests, learns much from them, and is eventually taken
into the temple and becomes a medium for them. Discontent seizes him, and he
absconds and joins a band of robbers in the mountains, but after a few years
abandons them in turn. He then meets with a practitioner of the darker magic,
and attaches himself to him as a pupil; but the master dies in the performance
of one of his enchantments, and the student is saved from sharing his fate only
by the interference of his dead mother.
770.
During further wanderings he meets the prince, who is in reality his
step-brother (the son of the queen who murdered his mother), and is enabled by
his clairvoyant power to cure him of an obsession. This prince in due course
comes to the throne and raises our hero to a position of honour, knowing
nothing, however, of the real relationship between them. By this time Ahrinziman
is married, unfortunately to an entirely unworthy woman who never really
appreciates him, and is false to him without hesitation when she finds that she
has attracted the favourable regards of the king. Through his partial
clairvoyance Ahrinziman becomes aware of this, and in his jealous rage causes
the death of the king by astral means. He himself succeeds to the throne (having
declared his parentage), but after a short reign is slain by another claimant.
771.
The rest of the book is devoted to a description of his experiences in
the astral world. He is represented as, at first, filled with jealousy and
hatred, and consequently mating with all sorts of horrible entities in order
through them to achieve revenge; but gradually the good within him asserts
itself, and he begins to try to aid instead of to injure, and so through a long
and toilsome upward progress he at last attains to perfect bliss.
772.
How far is it possible that all this can be true? May we take it wholly
or partly as the autobiography which it professes to be, or must we regard it as
a romance? Certainly of much of it we may say: “Se non è vero, è ben
trovato.” As to the physical part of the story, we have but meagre records
of what took place in Persia in the fifth century before the Christian era, but
as far as it goes, our fragmentary history of that period seems to fit in fairly
accurately with what Ahrinziman writes. The interest of the student of the
hidden side of nature will naturally be centred chiefly on the astral
experiences, for the sake of which mainly the book is put forth, and he will
desire to know how far these can be confirmed from the point of view of such
occult knowledge as has reached our western world.
773.
Those who have studied most deeply will be the first to admit that in
this splendid science of the soul we are as yet but picking up pebbles on the
shore of the great ocean of knowledge, that our fullest information is as yet
far from exhaustive, and that the marvellous variety and adaptability of astral
conditions are so great that it would be rash to say that anything is
impossible. Still, certain broad rules are well established, and some of these
seem to be violated by Ahrinziman' s story, if we are to take it literally,
though all falls readily into place if we allow for certain limitations upon his
part. If the whole thing is simply a parable, well and good; but it is
interesting to see how Ahrinziman may be perfectly honest in his narration, even
though some points in it are contrary to accepted facts.
774.
The first great question is whether a stay of anything like such a period
as two thousand three hundred years in the astral world is at all possible,
since we know that twenty or thirty years is a fair average for ordinary
persons. It is true that a man of unusual will-power may greatly prolong his
astral life by intensifying his passions and desires, and throwing all his
strength into the lower rather than the higher side of himself; and this is
exactly what Ahrinziman represents himself to have done. I have read of a case
in Germany where an erring priest was earth-bound for four hundred years, and I
have myself known one where ambition and a determined will detained a person in
astral life for three hundred; but such instances are infrequent, and none of
them even approach the vista of centuries claimed by Ahrinziman. It is clear,
too, that he does not consider himself by any means as a special case, for he
speaks of many friends and contemporaries as still with him, some in advance of
him in progress, and some behind him. If, therefore, we are to accept his story
as genuine, it becomes more probable if we regard it rather as an attempt to
describe conditions through which he passed during the first century after his
death than as indicating anything at present existing.
775.
Though eager for occult knowledge, he did not show much attraction
towards spirituality, except in childhood; his actions were chiefly the result
of ambition, passion and revenge, and he died by violence in the prime of life.
Considering all these factors we should expect a protracted and stormy astral
existence, the earlier part of which would probably be extremely unpleasant; we
should expect also that gradually the passions would wear themselves out, that
the better side of his nature would assert itself, and that opportunities would
be offered for progress.
776.
All this is what Ahrinziman describes, but he surrounds it with a wealth
of allegory that may easily be misunderstood, and he spreads over two thousand
three hundred years what may well have occupied forty or fifty. We must not
forget that in the astral world none of our ordinary methods of time-measurement
are available, and that if, even in physical life, a few hours of suffering or
anxiety seem to us almost interminable, this characteristic is exaggerated a
hundredfold in an existence of which feelings and passions are the very essence.
While it is scarcely conceivable that Ahrinziman can really have spent two
thousand years in the astral world, it is easy to believe that his sojourn there
seemed to him an eternity.
777.
Still the fact remains that, if he is to be credited as to the physical
part of his life, about that length of time has passed since his assassination;
what then has he been doing during all these years? I have no personal
acquaintance with him, and no right to make impertinent enquiries, but a case
somewhat parallel to his which I recently investigated may suggest to us a
possible explanation.
778.
I was consulted by a lady who stated that her “spirit guide” was a priest
of ancient Egypt; and as the advice which he gave was good, and his teaching
accurate, it seemed worth while to inquire into his reasons for making so
extraordinary a claim, as it appeared scarcely likely that so dignified and
upright a man would stoop to the common and petty device of impersonation. On
meeting him I saw at once that he had unquestionably been initiated up to a
certain level into the Mysteries according to the Egyptian Rite, and naturally I
wondered how it could be that he was still active in the astral world. Upon
examination I found that since his life as an Egyptian priest he had had another
incarnation, which he had spent wearily and unsatisfactorily within the walls of
a monastery, devoting it apparently to the working out of some accumulations of
karma; but after his death certain circumstances (it seemed a mere
accident) brought him into touch with the thought-current of his old Egyptian
surroundings.
779.
Instantly the memory of that previous life flashed into his consciousness
(I think it had always been hovering upon the threshold, and he had always been
hungering, though he did not know for what), and it was so much more vivid and
real than the dull monastic round, that the latter became to him a mere evil
dream. He soon forgot it altogether, or regarded it as nothing more than a
wearisome part of his astral punishment, and so he was really quite honest in
his statement that he was that Egyptian priest-- the powerful
personality with which he had identified himself up to the close of his last
life in the heaven-world, just before his descent into the comparatively recent
incarnation in which he became a monk. I do not assert that Ahrinziman' s case
is similar, but it is at least possible that it may be.
780.
Naturally Ahrinziman writes as a man of his day, and uses the terminology
to which he is accustomed, much of which sounds odd in our ears to-day,
especially as he constantly confounds his symbols with material facts. Of course
it is not actually true, as he supposes, that men are divided into three great
groups, having at their heads angels bearing respectively white, red, and golden
stars, any more than it is actually true that Phoebus drives his chariot daily
across the sky from east to west, or that the Sun God is newly born at Christmas
when the days begin to grow longer. But it is true that some ancient
religions adopted a system of symbology closely allied to that which this book
puts forth, and that a man passing into astral life with his mind filled with
such preconceived ideas might go on for a long time interpreting everything in
accordance with them, and ignoring facts which they did not cover.
781.
It is true also that mighty spirits exist whose method of evolution is so
entirely different from our own, that for us it would be evil; but with
them we do not normally come into contact, nor is it of them that Ahrinziman
speaks, for he himself admits that his angels of light and darkness are after
all human beings who have lived their life on earth. He describes vividly the
stupendous thought-edifices reared by man' s passions, though he often fails to
distinguish the temporary thought-images from the more permanent realities of
the world. He gives us a horrible description of a kind of astral battle in
which the plain is strewn with the disjecta membra of the combatants--
a gruesome detail which could not really occur, as will at once be manifest to
anyone who comprehends the fluidic nature of the astral body.
782.
Indeed, if his remarks are really to be taken as representing the ancient
Persian knowledge with regard to things astral, we are compelled to recognise
that that presentation was less definitely scientific, as well as less
comprehensive, than that which is put before students of the occult at the
present day. For example, Ahrinziman does not seem to have any clear grasp of
the great central fact of reincarnation, or perhaps regards it as an occasional
possibility, instead of recognising it as the appointed means of evolution for
humanity.
783.
His use of terms is somewhat perplexing until one becomes accustomed to
it, for it is fairly evident that he gives the name of “spiritual body” to what
we now call the astral vehicle, and that his “astral body” is nothing more than
the etheric double-- as may be seen when he describes the latter as slightly
larger than the physical, and as capable of being influenced by powerful acids;
remarks which are true of the etheric double, but would be inaccurate if they
referred to what is now termed the astral body. He has also a confusing habit of
speaking of unpleasant astral conditions as below the earth-plane, and pleasant
ones as above it, though he describes them both as less material than our earth.
He has probably been misled by the fact that the denser astral matter does
interpenetrate our physical globe, and that those who are confined to the least
desirable subdivision may often find themselves actually within the crust of the
earth. In addition to this there is, no doubt, a world lower than the physical--
one with which normal humanity has happily no connection; but it is more, and
not less, material than the world which we think we know.
784.
Quite frequently he describes something in language which at once
convinces the student that he has unquestionably seen that of which he writes;
and then he proceeds to disappoint us by accounting for it in an involved and
unscientific manner, or by treating poetic symbols as though they were material
facts. Once or twice he shows his conceptions to be tainted by the twin-soul
theory-- a line of thought to be sedulously avoided by all who wish to make any
real advance in occult study.
785.
He is in error when he speaks of mediumship as a necessity for spiritual
evolution-- though perhaps this is once more merely a question of terminology,
as he may be using the word in the sense of psychic sensitiveness. He is,
however, clearly wrong when he says that it is impossible for a man, still
possessing a physical body fully to comprehend or to control astral forces and
beings, or to have perfect spiritual sight. What he no doubt means, or at least
ought to mean, is that a man who is still confined to his physical body
cannot possess these higher powers, for he has not realised that a man may learn
during life how to leave his physical body as completely as at death, and may
yet return to it when he wishes. Also he shows ignorance of the Oriental
teaching when he stigmatises it as selfish, and opines that by it “the eager
hunger of the starving many for light is left unsatisfied”. On the whole,
however, his teaching is commendably free from sectarianism.
786.
Though the student of occultism thus finds himself compelled to differ
from Ahrinziman on certain points, I hasten to add that there are many upon
which we must all most thoroughly agree with him. To take at random a few of the
many gems which may be found, his criticisms on war and conquest, and on the
history of religions, are admirable. We are all with him when he writes:
787.
I hold that truth and error, good and evil, are to be found everywhere
and in all religions and amongst all peoples; and no matter how pure the
original doctrines of any form of faith may be, it is impossible to prevent the
ambitions and the lusts, the greed and the cruelty of the undeveloped human soul
from perverting the purity of the teachings and turning them to the basest
purposes and overlaying them with the grossest errors . . . The absurd
ordinances, the horrible sacrifices, the revolting practices, the grotesque
beliefs, the fantastic theories, that had crept into the teaching of this
religion, were all excrescences fastened one by one upon the simple purity of
the teaching of its founder.
788.
His terminology is perhaps not the best possible, yet there is much truth
in his thought that all evil is a perversion of some good quality, into which it
will one day be transmuted. Many of his ideas as to spiritual development are
also greatly to be commended. The dangers of mediumship and hypnotism could
hardly be better expressed than in this solemn warning:
789.
Let no one ever resign the sovereignty of himself, his mind or body, into
the hands of another, be he priest or layman. For a man' s freedom is his divine
prerogative, and he who yields it to another is more abject than the lowest
slave.
790.
Again it is explained in one of the notes:
791.
A perfect trance should be the conscious flight of the soul into a
superior condition, from which it ought to return strengthened and refreshed and
capable of wider thoughts and nobler and freer actions, and a stronger and more
perfect possession of its own individuality. To apply the word ` trance' to
those exhibitions of semi-conscious mental aberration of persons whose
sensitiveness lays them open to the mesmeric control of either incarnate or
excarnate minds, is to propagate an error which ought long ago to have been
exploded. With the spread of mediumistic development, all and every variety and
degree of sub-conscious conditions have come to be classed as ` trances,' yet
they bear no more resemblance to the true trance of the developed mystic of the
older occult faiths than does the sleep which is produced by the use of powerful
narcotic drugs resemble that of healthy, tired nature. The hypnotically-induced
trance is as pernicious to the soul as would be the habitual use of narcotics to
the body. Whether the magnetiser be in the flesh or out of it, the results are
the same; an habitual use of magnetism to induce sleep or ` trance' is an evil.
792.
He describes accurately how the lower dead crowd to séances, and how the
so-called guides are by no means always strong enough to keep off evil
influences. Clearly also does he warn us how readily the ideas of the earthly
enquirers mingle with the revelations of the magnetised medium, so that by such
a method of investigation a man usually receives such information or counsel as
he desires or expects. He understands that asceticism as such is
useless and often harmful, and that the physical body must be in perfect health
and power if visions are to be reliable. He realises, too, something of the
difficulties of the way:
793.
Few, very few, who possess the needful clearness of sight ever learn how
to use it successfully; still fewer have the indomitable will and the
unquenchable thirst for knowledge which will carry them through all the dangers
and trials and disappointments, and the infinite toil and labour involved in
these studies.
794.
He has all history on his side when he tells us that those who develop
the highest degrees of power will do well entirely to withdraw themselves from
active life in the physical world, and his strange congeries of characters is
gradually brought to understand that only through unselfishness is real progress
possible.
795.
Again and again little touches of knowledge leap to the eyes of the
student, showing that things have been rightly seen, even though the expression
may be confused for want of more definite classification of the facts.
Ahrinziman understands the making of talismans and potions; he sees how a single
action or thought of revenge opens the door to evil influences which may cling
to its author for years to come; he describes how the presence of the dead
causes the living to think of them, even though not sufficiently developed to
perceive them.
796.
In writing of astral life, he gives us a fine description of the wicked
queen surrounded after death by evil thoughts and memories, which to her were as
actual events; and a grimly realistic touch is the account of the slave who
spends his time in crawling ever backwards and forwards through the secret
passage in the making of which he was murdered. He tells us of the dead who have
a confused impression that they are still in their earthly bodies, and of those
others who, having realised their separation, try to use the earthly bodies of
living men as mediums for the gratification of their passion. He comprehends,
too, how men who stand side by side, as far as space is concerned, may yet be
absolutely unconscious of one another; he knows the glorious truth that no evil
can be eternal, that however far from the Path the erring soul may wander, at
long, long last it also will find its homeward way.
797.
He ends with a hope which we all may echo-- that, as the barriers of
ignorance which so long have divided nation from nation are gradually wearing
thinner before the radiating force of knowledge, and the light of brotherhood is
beginning faintly to shine through, so the same wider knowledge and clearer
insight may, by degrees, set at naught the imaginary barrier which we have
misnamed death, showing us that there is in truth no separation after all, since
whether at the moment we happen to have physical bodies, or not, we are all
members of the same great fraternity, all moving towards the same goal, all
enveloped in the sunlight of the same Eternal Love.
798.
CHAPTER XIII
799.
OUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS THESE
800.
INFLUENCES
801.
PROTECTIVE SHELLS
802.
WE have considered specimens of the various kinds of influences which are
coming in upon us from all sides, and we find that among such influences are
many which are disturbing and undesirable; so a question naturally arises as to
how we can best avoid or neutralise these. It is an easy matter to form round
oneself when necessary a sort of temporary suit of armour of higher matter--
what is commonly called by students a protective shell. But is this the best way
to meet the difficulty? An authority on the subject once remarked that, as far
as self-protection is concerned, the best thing to do with a shell is not to
form it in the first place, and if one has formed it, to break it up as speedily
as possible! There is certainly a good deal of truth in these words, for in the
majority of cases (at least among all but the most elementary students) all that
can be achieved by the formation of a shell round oneself can also be done more
effectively and with less danger in other ways, as we shall see later. Exact
knowledge as to the formation of shells of various kinds is sometimes useful;
but, like most other knowledge, it may be abused, so before directing one' s
energies along these lines it is desirable to know exactly what one wishes to do
and how it is to be achieved.
803.
The first great principle to bear in mind is that a shell should be used
far more frequently for the protection of others than for oneself. The Invisible
Helpers, for example, frequently find it desirable to make such a defence for
some of those whom they are trying to save from evil influences of various
sorts. But the average enquirer has more often in mind the idea of protecting
himself against various outer influences, and he usually asks how he may form a
shell for that purpose. There are occasions in which such action is allowable,
and we may perhaps group these under three heads corresponding to the etheric,
the astral and the mental vehicles.
804.
In all cases alike these shells are constructed by the power of the will,
but before exercising that power it is well to know of what kind of matter the
shell is to be built and what it is desired to keep out. The directions usually
given are that the student should think of his aura as surrounding him in ovoid
form, should concentrate strongly upon the outer surface of that aura, and
should then exert his will to harden it so that it may become impervious to any
influences from without. These directions are good, and a fairly strong shell
can be made in that way; but the effort will be at the same time much less
laborious and much more effective if the man understands exactly what he is
doing and why, and so can send forth the energy of his will in the right
direction only, instead of flooding the whole neighbourhood with a stream of
ill-directed force. Let us then consider the three varieties somewhat in detail,
and see for what purpose each is appropriate.
805.
THE ETHERIC SHELL
806.
We will take first that which is intended to protect the physical body
(including the etheric double) from various dangers to which it may be liable.
The more common uses of such a shell are three-- to protect a sensitive man when
in a crowd; to shield the physical body at night when the man leaves it in
sleep; and to prevent the danger of physical infection on some occasion when the
student has in the course of his duty to subject himself to it. In all these
cases it is obvious that the shell must be of etheric matter and of etheric
matter only, if it is to be effective for its purpose, although it may sometimes
be desirable to create other shells in other worlds simultaneously to afford
protection from other classes of dangers.
807.
The object of a shell in a crowd is usually twofold. In a mixed multitude
of ordinary people there will almost certainly be a great deal of physical
magnetism of a kind distasteful to the student and even prejudicial to him, and
part of his object in shelling himself is to defend himself against that. It is
also probable that in any large crowd there may be a certain number of those
unfortunate persons who, being themselves in some way physically weak, are
constantly drawing large amounts of vitality from others. Such absorption often
takes place entirely without the knowledge of the person temporarily benefited
by it, so that he may be regarded as a kind of unconscious etheric kleptomaniac.
808.
One who has thus the misfortune to be an unconscious vampire may be
compared to a gigantic sponge, always ready to absorb any amount of specialised
vitality which it can obtain. If he confines himself to seizing upon the
bluish-white radiations, which every normal person throws out, he will do no
harm, for the matter of which these are composed has already been received and
dealt with by the person from whose aura it is taken. But usually this is not
all that he takes, for on the approach of the vampire this outpouring is greatly
stimulated by his drawing force, so that not only the already-utilised
bluish-white fluid is lost, but by intense suction the whole circulation of the
vitality through the body of the victim is so hastened that the rose-coloured
matter is drawn out with the refuse through all the pores of the body, and the
unfortunate original owner has not time to assimilate it; so that a capable
vampire can drain a person of the whole of his strength in a visit of a few
minutes.
809.
Such an unconscious vampire is assuredly always an object of pity; yet it
would be a great mistake if, because of that pity, any victim voluntarily
allowed himself to be depleted, with the idea that he was thereby serving and
helping one in sore need. The vampire invariably wastes the substance which he
thus nefariously acquires. It rushes through him and is dissipated again without
proper assimilation, so that his ever-present thirst is never satiated, and to
endeavour by abundant self-sacrifice to fill him up is exactly, to use an
expressive Indian proverb, like pouring water into a bag with a hole in it.
810.
The only thing that can really be done to help a confirmed unconscious
vampire is to supply the vitality for which he craves in strictly limited
quantities, while endeavouring, by mesmeric action, to restore the elasticity of
the etheric double, so that the perpetual suction and corresponding leakage
shall no longer take place. Such a leakage invariably flows through every pore
of the body on account of this lack of etheric elasticity-- not through a sort
of tear or wound in the etheric body, as some students have supposed; indeed,
the idea of anything in the nature of a permanent tear or wound is incompatible
with the conditions of etheric matter and the constitution of the etheric
double.
811.
A strong shell is one way of guarding oneself against such vampirism, and
there are many people for whom at present it may be the only way open.
812.
In the case of normal and healthy people there is usually no trouble with
the physical body which is left behind when the man himself moves away in sleep
or in trance, for in the improbable event of any sort of attack being made upon
it the body would instantly recall the wandering soul, so that the whole man
would be at hand to defend himself if necessary. The physical body has a
consciousness of its own, quite apart from that of the man who inhabits it-- a
vague consciousness truly, but still capable of knowing when its vehicle is in
danger, and of instinctively taking whatever steps are in its power to protect
it. I have myself seen that consciousness manifest itself when the owner of the
body had been driven out of it by a dentist' s administration of laughing gas--
manifest itself in a vague outcry and an inefficient attempt at protesting
action when the tooth was extracted, though the man himself afterwards reported
that he had been absolutely unconscious of the operation.
813.
As the physical body always remains intimately attached by sympathetic
vibration to the astral, even when the latter is far away from it, any
disturbance which threatens the physical is almost sure to be communicated
instantly to the ego, who promptly returns to investigate.
814.
There are, however, abnormal and unfortunate people who are subject to
the attacks of certain entities who desire to seize upon and obsess their
bodies, and such people sometimes find it necessary to take strong measures to
retain possession of their personal property. Or again, perhaps circumstances
may compel the student to sleep in exceedingly undesirable surroundings-- as,
for example, in a railway carriage in close physical contact with people of the
vampirising type or of coarse and forbidding emanations. In either of these
cases a strong etheric shell might be the best way of meeting the difficulty,
though the student has the alternative of making a strong thought-form animated
with the purpose of guarding the body. Such a thought-form may be made even more
effective and vivid if a nature-spirit of appropriate type can be induced to
enter into it and take a delight in carrying out its object.
815.
The idea of protection from infection is sufficiently obvious to need no
special comment. Such infection can enter only by means of physical germs of
some sort, and against these a dense wall of etheric matter is a sure
protection. It must never be forgotten, however, that a shell which keeps
out matter of a certain type must also keep it in ; so that in
guarding ourselves against germs which may bring contagion we are also keeping
in close contact with the physical body a great mass of its own emanations, many
of which are distinctly poisonous in character.
816.
In the cases above mentioned the shell to be made is of etheric matter
only, and the man who wishes to make it must recollect that his etheric body is
by no means coterminous with the astral or mental. Both of the latter adopt the
shape and size of that ovoid section of the causal body, which alone of its
characteristics can manifest in the lower worlds. The etheric body, however, is
of the shape of the physical, and projects slightly from its surface in all
directions-- perhaps a quarter of an inch or so. If, therefore, the plan of
densifying the periphery of the aura is to be adopted, the man, who tries the
experiment must recollect where that periphery lies, and direct his will-power
accordingly.
817.
He has, however, the alternative of making an ovoid shell of etheric
matter drawn from the surrounding atmosphere. That course is in many ways
preferable, but demands a far greater exertion of the will and a much more
definite knowledge of the way in which physical matter is moulded by it. Such a
shell as has been described, though invisible to ordinary sight, is purely in
the physical world, and therefore guards its creator only against definitely
physical emanations. It does not in the least affect the entrance of wandering
thoughts or of astral vibrations tending to produce passions and emotions of
various kinds.
818.
Some sensitive people find it impossible to come near those suffering
from any weakness or disease without immediately reproducing in their own
physical bodies the symptoms of the sufferers. In such cases an etheric shell
may be useful, as without it the sensitive man is largely precluded by this
abnormal keenness of sympathy from assisting such people.
819.
Again, for those whose business makes it necessary for them to live and
move in the midst of the horrible din of our modern civilisation such a shell
may sometimes prove useful, as giving the tired and harassed nerves at least
something of an opportunity for recovery, by protecting them for a while from
the otherwise incessant hammering of all the multiplex vibrations which
constitute modern life.
820.
SHIELDS
821.
In some cases what is called for is not a shell surrounding the whole
body, but simply a small local shield to guard oneself against some special
temporary contact. All sensitive people are aware that the western custom of
shaking hands often brings with it positive torment, lasting not infrequently
for some hours after the moment of contact. Often to go out of one' s way to
avoid shaking hands may cause offence, or may give an impression of pride or of
an assumption of superiority. The difficulty may usually be obviated by making
an effort of the will which covers the right hand with a strong temporary shield
of etheric matter, so that the sensitive may endure the unpleasant contact
without allowing a single particle charged with undesirable magnetism to enter
his body.
822.
Of the same nature as this, though requiring for their successful
manipulation a far greater knowledge of practical magic, are the shells which
are sometimes used as a protection against fire. I have myself had such a shell
of etheric matter made over the palm of my hand at a spiritualistic séance--
made so effectively that, although it was too thin to be observable by the
senses, it yet enabled me to hold in my hand for several minutes a glowing coal,
from which, while I held it, I was able to light a piece of paper. A still more
extended application of the same idea is the much larger shield spread over the
glowing ashes, or over the feet of the participants, in the fire-walking
experiment which has been so often described.
823.
A WARNING
824.
Students wishing for some reason to guard their physical bodies during
sleep may be warned not to repeat the mistake made some time ago by a worthy
friend who took a great deal of trouble to surround himself with a specially
impenetrable shell on a certain occasion, but made it of astral instead of
etheric matter, and consequently took it away with him when he left his physical
body! Naturally the result was that his physical body was left entirely
unprotected, while he himself floated about all night enclosed in triple armour,
absolutely incapable of sending out a single vibration to help anybody, or of
being helped or beneficially influenced by any loving thoughts which may have
been directed towards him by teachers or friends.
825.
THE ASTRAL SHELL
826.
The objects aimed at in making an astral shell are naturally of an
entirely different type, since they must be connected only with passions and
emotions. Most of them also fall under three heads. A shell may be formed round
the astral body, first, to keep out emotional vibrations intentionally directed
by others at the student, such as those of anger, envy or hatred; secondly, to
keep out casual vibrations of low type (such as those evoking sensuality) which
are not intentionally directed at the student, but are to be found floating in
the surrounding atmosphere, and impinge upon him as it were by accident in the
course of ordinary life; thirdly, a student may find it useful to surround his
astral body with a special shell during the time which he devotes to meditation,
if he has been troubled with the intrusion of thoughts of a low type, which
bring with them astral matter and are calculated to provoke undesirable emotion.
827.
In any or all of these cases the effort of the will should be directed to
the surface of the astral body-- not to that counterpart of denser astral matter
which is exactly the shape and size of the physical vehicle, but the egg of
surrounding aura, as depicted in the illustrations in Man Visible and
Invisible. In this, and in all other cases of forming shell, a clear mental
picture must be made, and the whole of the person' s will-power must be
concentrated for at least some minutes upon the definite effort to create the
necessary shape. It must also be remembered that such densifications are to a
certain extent unnatural; that is to say, they are an arrangement of matter
which is not that, normally contemplated in the scheme of things, and
consequently there is a constant tendency in the vehicle concerned to resume its
normal condition, which, of course, means a constant tendency to disintegration
in the shell. The effort of will, therefore, must make a definite impression,
sufficient to resist for at least some hours this gentle but persistent effort
at disintegration, otherwise the shell will gradually become pervious and
ragged, and so fail to fulfil its object. A shell which is required for any
length of time should be frequently renewed, as without that process it will
soon collapse.
828.
In connection with the astral body we must bear in mind the same
consideration to which I referred in the case of the etheric body-- that if a
shell will keep out vibrations it will also keep them in. The student who makes
an astral shell round himself should therefore be careful to build it only of
the material of the lower sub-divisions of the astral, as it is exclusively this
matter which responds to the low and undesirable vibrations connected with
sensuality, malice, hatred, envy and all other such ignoble passions. The finer
emotions, on the contrary, always express themselves through the matter of the
higher subdivision. It is unnecessary that any matter of this kind should be
used in a shell. Indeed, the effects if such matter were used would be eminently
unsatisfactory, as, first, a man would keep away from himself any currents of
friendly feeling which might be sent to him, and secondly, he would render
himself for the time incapable of sending out similar currents of affectionate
feeling to others.
829.
It may be asked how it is possible for the ordinary man or even for the
younger student to know what kind of astral matter he is employing in the making
of his shell. The answer is that that is after all no more difficult than the
conception of making a shell at all. If he is to make the shell of astral matter
he must first think of the limits of his aura, and then proceed to densify the
matter at all those points. The process may therefore be described as an
intelligent use of the imagination; and this imagination may just as well be
directed with a little more trouble to the conception that the astral body
consists of seven degrees of matter, differing in density. The will should be
directed to sorting out these, selecting only the material of (let us say) the
three lower sub-planes, and forming the shell exclusively of that; and though
the student may be unable to see clairvoyantly the result of his effort, he need
not doubt that it will produce its effect, and that no types of matter but those
of which he thinks will be directly influenced by the currents which he is
enabled to send forth.
830.
THE MENTAL SHELL
831.
The shell made round the mental body differs from that in the astral
world in that the object is no longer to prevent undesirable emotion, but
undesirable thought. Once more, there are three principal occasions on which
such a shell may be useful: first, in meditation; secondly, when sleep is
approaching; thirdly, under special conditions where without its help lower
thoughts would be likely to obtrude themselves.
832.
The office of the mental shell in meditation is to exclude the mass of
lower thought which is perpetually playing about in the atmosphere. No shell can
prevent wandering thoughts from arising within the man' s own mind; but most of
our thought-wandering is caused by the impact from without of casual floating
thoughts which have been left about by other people, and the intrusion of these
at least can be prevented by a shell. But here again it is advisable that only
the lower mental matter should be employed in the making of such a shell, as
otherwise helpful thought might be kept out, or the man' s own thought might be
hampered as he poured it forth towards the Master.
833.
Many people find themselves troubled with streams of wandering thought
when they are trying to fall asleep; a mental shell will deliver them from such
of these thoughts as come from without. Such a shell need only be temporary,
since all that is required is peace for an interval sufficient to allow the man
to fall asleep. The man will carry away with him this shell of mental matter
when he leaves his physical body, but its work will then be accomplished, since
the whole object of making it is to permit him to leave that body. The stream of
idle thoughts or mental worry will probably reassert itself when the shell
breaks up, but as the man will then be away from his physical brain this will
not interfere with the repose of the body. So long as he is in his physical body
the mental action will affect the particles of the brain and produce there such
activity as may easily make it impossible for the man to quit the physical
vehicle; but when once he is away from the latter, the same worry or wandering
thought will not bring him back to it.
834.
The third case to which reference has been made is less simple. It occurs
not infrequently that certain groups of thought, some wholly desirable, and some
equally undesirable, are closely linked together. To take the first example
which comes: it is well known that deep devotion and a certain form of
sensuality are frequently almost inextricably mingled. A man who finds himself
troubled by this unpleasant conjunction may reap the benefit of the devotion
without suffering from the ill effects of the sensuality, by surrounding his
mental body with a rigid shell so far as its lower subdivisions are concerned,
for in this way he will effectually shut out the lower influences while still
allowing the higher to play upon him unhindered. This is but one example of a
phenomenon of which there are many varieties in the mental world.
835.
THE BEST USE OF A SHELL
836.
When a shell has to be made, the method which I have indicated above is
probably the easiest by which to make it, but there still remains a further
consideration-- the question as to whether on the whole the shell is an
undesirable thing. It has its uses-- indeed it is eminently necessary as applied
to other people. The Invisible Helper frequently finds it invaluable when he is
trying to relieve some poor harassed soul who has not as yet the strength to
protect himself, either against definite and intentional attacks from without,
or against the ever-present swirl of the wearisome wandering thought. But to
think of using a shell for oneself is to a certain extent a confession of
weakness or of defect, for there seems little doubt that, if we were all that we
ought to be, we should need no protection of this nature.
837.
A BEAUTIFUL STORY
838.
A beautiful little story from the traditions of the Christian Church
illustrates this very happily. It is recorded that somewhere in the desert at
the back of Alexandria there was once a monastery whose abbot possessed the
power of clairvoyance. Among his monks there were two young men who had an
especial reputation for purity and holiness-- qualities which ought to be common
to all monks, but sometimes are not. One day when they were singing in the choir
it occurred to the abbot to turn his clairvoyant faculty upon these two young
men, in the endeavour to discover how they contrived to preserve this especial
purity amidst the temptations of daily life. So he looked at the first young man
and saw that he had surrounded himself with a shell as of glittering crystal,
and that when the tempting demons (impure thought-forms we should call them)
came rushing at him, they struck against this shell, and fell back without
injuring him, so that he remained inside his shell, calm and cold and pure.
Then the abbot looked at the second young monk, and he saw that he
had built no shell round himself, but that his heart was so full of the love of
God that it was perpetually radiating from him in all directions in the shape of
torrents of love for his fellow men, so that when the tempting demons sprang at
him with fell intent they were all washed away in that mighty outpouring stream,
and so he also remained pure and undefiled. And it is recorded that the abbot
said that the second monk was nearer to the kingdom of heaven than the first.
839.
THE BETTER WAY
840.
It may be that many of us have not yet reached the level of this second
young monk; but at least the story sets before us a higher ideal than that of
mere self-protection, and we may learn something of a lesson from him. We must,
however, carefully guard ourselves against the feeling of superiority or
separateness. We must avoid the danger of thinking too much about the self. We
must keep ourselves constantly in a condition of outpouring; we must be active,
not passive. When we meet a person our attitude surely should be not: “How can I
guard myself against you?” but rather: “What can I do for you?” It is this
latter attitude which calls into play the higher forces, because it reflects the
attitude of the Solar Deity. It is when we give that we become fit to receive,
that we are channels of the mighty force of the Deity Himself.
841.
We need not even think too much about personal progress. It is possible
to be so exclusively occupied with the idea: “How can I get on?” as to forget
the even more important question: “What can I do to help?” And there are some
good brothers, even among the best that we have, who are so perpetually
examining themselves as to their progress as to remind one forcibly of those
children who, when special plots of garden-ground are given to them, are
constantly pulling up their plants to see how the roots are growing. This
over-anxiety is a real danger; I know many who, while doing the most beautiful
altruistic actions, can yet never feel quite sure that their intentions are
truly unselfish, since they always doubt whether it is not perhaps a selfish
desire to avoid the discomfort caused by seeing pain in others which moves them
to action!
842.
Such brothers should remember that self-examination may degenerate into
morbid introspection, and that the main object is that they should point
themselves in the right direction and then simply go ahead and do the best they
can-- that, to quote our Christian story, they should first fill their hearts
with the love of God and then (without spending all their time in weighing that
love, to see whether it is increasing or diminishing) should turn their whole
attention to the practical expression of it in love of their fellow men. Not
only is such outpouring of love a better defence than any number of shells, but
it is also an investment producing stupendous results. For the man who thinks
nothing of result is precisely he who is producing the greatest of all results.
843.
We have read of the splendid self-sacrifice of the Nirmanakayas, who,
having won the right to untold ages of rest in bliss unspeakable, yet have
chosen to remain within touch of earth, in order that they may spend their time
in the generation of incalculable streams of spiritual force, which are poured
into a mighty reservoir, to be spent in helping on the evolution of their less
developed fellows. The great Hierarchy of Adepts is entrusted with the
dispensing of this force for the good of the “great orphan” humanity, and it is
upon this that They (and even Their pupils, under Their direction) draw when
necessity arises.
844.
Needless to say, nothing that we can do can come within measurable
distance of the marvellous achievement of the Nirmanakaya; yet it is in the
power of every one of us to add some tiny drops at least to the contents of that
mighty reservoir, for whenever we pour out from ourselves love or devotion which
is utterly without thought of self, we produce results which lie far beyond our
ken.
845.
All affection or devotion, however noble, which has in it the least
thought of self (as in the case of one who desires the return of his affection,
or a reward of protection or salvation for his devotion-- one who thinks not:
“How much I love so-and-so!” but: “I wonder how much so-and-so loves me
”)-- all such affection or devotion sends its force in closed curves which
return upon those who generated it, and the karma which such force makes binds a
man and brings him back to birth, that he may receive the result of it, just as
surely as if the karma were evil.
846.
But when self has been absolutely forgotten, when such thought has
neither part nor lot in the stream which is outpoured, when the curve is no
longer closed but open, then the karma does not bind the man nor bring
him back to earth. Yet the effect is produced-- an effect far transcending any
imagination of ours, for that open curve reaches up to the Solar Deity Himself,
and it is from Him that the response comes; and though that response inevitably
brings as its result something of advancement to the man whose love and devotion
have called it into existence, yet it also at the same time pours spiritual
force into the great reservoir of the Adepts. So it comes to pass that every
thought, which has no slightest taint of self in it, is a thought which directly
helps the world, and thus the outpouring of love is a better defence than the
strongest of shells, and the man who is filled with the powers of that Divine
Love needs no protection, because he lives within the heart of God Himself.
847.
THIRD SECTION
848.
HOW WE INFLUENCE OURSELVES
849.
CHAPTER XIV
850.
BY OUR HABITS
851.
FOOD
852.
A SAYING is attributed to the Christ to the effect that not what is put
into the mouth but what comes out of the mouth really defiles a man. Whether He
ever made that remark or not, there can be no possible question that a man may
be most decidedly defiled by what he puts into his mouth.
853.
The food which we eat is taken into the body and we actually make it part
of ourselves, so it is clearly evident that the magnetism with which it is
charged is a matter of great moment to us. Both its physical and its magnetic
purity are important, yet some people neglect one and some the other. In India,
for example, great weight is attached to magnetic purity, and a man will not eat
food which has been subjected to the magnetism of some one of lower caste. On
the other hand he is much less careful than we are in the West as to the
physical cleanliness of the preparations, forgetting that nothing which is
physically dirty can ever be magnetically pure. We are usually particular as to
the physical cleanliness, but we never think of the question of magnetic purity.
854.
The fact which most seriously affects the magnetism of food is that it is
touched so much by the hands of the cook in the course of its preparation. Now
the special magnetism of a person flows out most strongly through the hands, and
consequently food which is touched by the hands cannot but be highly charged
with that magnetism. This is specially true in the case of pastry and bread,
which are kneaded by hand in countries which are too backward to have learnt the
use of machinery for these purposes. All food made in that way would be
absolutely unfit to be eaten at all, were it not for the fact that fortunately
the action of fire in the baking or the cooking removes the traces of most kinds
of physical magnetism. Still it is eminently desirable that the cook should
touch the food as little as possible, and so ladles and spoons, which can
readily be demagnetised, should always be used in cooking and serving
everything; and they should be kept rigorously clean.
855.
In order to prevent any avoidable mixture of magnetism many an occult
student insists upon always using his own private cup and spoon. Madame
Blavatsky strongly advised this, and said that when it could not be done the cup
and the spoon that were used should be demagnetised before each meal. The
ordinary man pays no attention whatever to matters such as these, but the
student of occultism who is trying to enter upon the Path must be more careful.
It is possible to demagnetise food by a firm effort of the will, and with a
little practice a mere wave of the hand coupled with a strong thought will do
the thing almost instantaneously. But it must be remembered that demagnetisation
removes neither physical dirt nor its astral counterpart, though it may take
away other astral influence; and therefore every precaution must be taken to see
that cleanliness is perfect in all culinary arrangements.
856.
Food also absorbs the magnetism of those who are in close proximity to us
when we are eating. It is for that reason that in India a man prefers to eat
alone, and must not be seen eating by one of lower caste. The mixture which
arises from eating in public amidst a crowd of strangers, as in a restaurant, is
always undesirable, and should be avoided as much as possible. The magnetism of
one' s own family is usually more sympathetic, and at any rate one is accustomed
to it, so that it is much less likely to be harmful than the sudden introduction
of a combination of entirely strange vibrations, many of which are most likely
quite out of harmony with our own.
857.
There are, however, always two kinds of magnetism in every article of
food-- the internal and the external-- the former belonging to its own
character, the latter impressed upon it from without. The magnetism of the
merchant who sells it and of the cook are both of the latter kind, and can
therefore be removed by the action of the fire; but the magnetism which is
inherent in it is not at all affected by that action. No amount of cooking of
dead flesh, for example, can take away from it its inherently objectionable
character, nor all the feelings of pain and horror and hatred with which it is
saturated. No person who can see that magnetism and the vibrations which it sets
up can possibly eat meat.
858.
INTOXICATING LIQUORS
859.
Indeed, many of the pernicious habits of life of the ignorant would
become instantly impossible for them if they could see the hidden side of their
selfish indulgences. Even the undeveloped specimens of humanity who cluster
round the bar of a public-house would surely shrink back with terror, if they
could see the class of entities by which they are surrounded-- the lowest and
most brutal types of a rudimentary evolution, a bloated, livid fungus growth of
indescribable horror; and far worse even than they, because they are degraded
from something that should be so much better, are the ghastly crowds of dead
drunkards-- drink-sodden dregs of humanity, who have drowned the divine image in
depths of direful debauchery and now cluster round their successors, urging them
on to wilder carousals with hideous leers and mocking laughter, yet with a
loathly lust awful to behold.
860.
All this is entirely apart from the unquestionable deterioration which is
brought about in both astral and mental bodies by the indulgence in intoxicating
liquors. The man who is eagerly seeking for excuses for the gratification of
ignoble cravings frequently asserts that food and drink, belonging as they do
purely to the physical world, can have but little effect upon a man' s inner
development. This statement is obviously not in accordance with common sense,
for the physical matter in man is in exceedingly close touch with the astral and
mental-- so much so, that each is to a great extent a counterpart of the other,
and coarseness and grossness in the physical body imply a similar condition in
the higher vehicles.
861.
There are many types and degrees of density of astral matter, so that it
is possible for one man to have an astral body built of exceedingly coarse and
gross particles, while another may have one which is much more delicate and
refined. As the astral body is the vehicle of the emotions and passions, it
follows that a man whose astral body is of the ruder type will be chiefly
amenable to the lower and rougher varieties of passion and emotion; whereas a
man who has a finer astral body will find that its particles most readily
vibrate in response to higher and more refined emotions and aspirations. Thus a
man who is building for himself a gross and impure physical body is building for
himself at the same time coarse and unclean astral and mental bodies as well.
This effect is visible at once to the eye of the trained clairvoyant, and he
will readily distinguish between a man who feeds his physical vehicle with pure
food and another who contaminates it by intoxicating drink or decaying flesh.
862.
There can be no question that it is the duty of every man to develop all
his vehicles as far as possible in order to make them perfect instruments for
the use of the soul, which in itself is being trained to be a fit instrument in
the hands of the Solar Deity, and a perfect channel for the divine love. The
first step towards this is that the man himself should learn thoroughly to
control the lower bodies, so that there shall be in them no thought or feeling
except those he approves.
863.
All these vehicles, therefore, must be in the highest possible condition
of efficiency; they must be pure and clean and free from taint; and it is
obvious that this can never be, so long as the man puts into the physical body
undesirable constituents. Even the physical vehicle and its sense perceptions
can never be at their best unless the food is pure, and the same thing is true
to a much greater extent with regard to the higher bodies. Their senses also
cannot be clear if impure or coarse matter is drawn into them; anything of this
nature clogs and dulls them, so that it becomes far more difficult for the soul
to use them. Indulgence in alcohol or carnivorous diet is absolutely fatal to
anything like real development, and those who adopt these habits are putting
serious and utterly unnecessary difficulties in their own way.
864.
Nor is the effect during physical life the only point which is to be
borne in mind in connection with this matter. If, through introducing impure
particles into his physical body, the man builds himself an unseemly and unclean
astral body, we must not forget that it is in this degraded vehicle that he will
have to spend the first part of his life after death. Just as, here in the
physical world, his coarseness draws into association with him all sorts of
undesirable entities who, like parasites, make his vehicles their home, and find
a ready response within him to their lower passions, so also will he suffer
acutely from similar companionship after death, and from the working out in
astral life of the conditions which he has here set in motion.
865.
FLESH-EATING
866.
All this applies not only to indulgence in intoxicating liquor, but also
to the prevalent practice of feeding upon corpses. This habit also, like the
other, produces a consistent effect; this also, like the other, draws round its
votaries all kinds of undesirable entities-- horrible gaping red mouths, such as
those that gather round the shambles to absorb the aroma of blood. It is indeed
strange and pitiable to a clairvoyant to see a lady, thinking herself dainty and
refined (truly refined and dainty she cannot be, or she would not be
there) surrounded by an incongruous nightmare of such strange forms in a
butcher' s shop, where she goes to examine the corpses left by the grim,
ceaseless slaughter on the battle-field between man' s bestial, tigerish lust
for blood and the divine Life incarnated in the animal kingdom. Little she
realises that there will come a time when those who by their support make
possible this ghastly blot on the record of humanity, this daily hecatomb of
savage, useless murder of the forms through which the Deity is patiently trying
to manifest, will find themselves face to face with His ineffable Majesty, and
hear from the Voice that called the worlds into existence the appalling truth:
“Inasmuch as you have done this unto one of the least of these My little ones,
you have done it unto Me.”
867.
Surely it is time, with all our boasted advance, that this foul stain
upon our so-called civilisation should be removed. Even if it were only for
selfish reasons, for the sake of our own interests, this should be so. Remember
that every one of these murdered creatures is a definite entity-- not a
permanent reincarnating individual, but still an entity that has its life in the
astral world. Remember that every one of these remains there for a considerable
time, to pour out a feeling of indignation and horror at all the injustice and
torment which have been inflicted; and perhaps in that way it may be possible
faintly to realise something of the terrible atmosphere which hangs over a
slaughter-house and a butcher' s shop, and how it all reacts at many points upon
the human race.
868.
Most of all, these horrors react upon those who are least able to resist
them-- upon the children, who are more delicate and sensitive than the hardened
adult; and so for them there are constant feelings of causeless terror in the
air-- terror of the dark, or of being alone for a few moments. All the time
there are playing about us tremendous forces of awful strength, which only the
occult student can understand. The whole creation is so closely interrelated
that we cannot do horrible murder in this way upon our younger brothers without
feeling the effect upon our own innocent children.
869.
The pitiable thing about it is that a lady is actually able to
enter a butcher' s shop-- that because of the indulgence of her forefathers in
this shocking form of food, her various vehicles have become so coarsened that
she can stand amidst those bleeding carcasses without being overcome by loathing
and repulsion, and can be in the midst of the most ghastly astral abominations
without being in the slightest degree conscious of it. If we take into such a
place any person who has never corrupted himself with such carrion, there is no
doubt that he will shrink in disgust from the loathsome, bleeding masses of
physical flesh, and will also feel stifled by the actively and militantly-evil
astral entities which swarm there. Yet here we have the sad spectacle of a lady
who ought, by her very birthright, to be delicate and sensitive, whose physical
and astral fibre is so coarsened that she neither observes the visible nor
senses the invisible horrors which surround her.
870.
The pity of it is, too, that all the vast amount of evil which people
bring upon themselves by these pernicious habits might so easily be avoided. No
man needs either flesh or alcohol. It has been demonstrated over and again that
he is better without them. This is a case in which actually all the arguments
are on one side and there is nothing whatever to be said on the other, except
the man' s assertion: “I will do these horrible things, because I like them.”
871.
With regard to flesh-eating, for example, it cannot be questioned that:
(1) the right kind of vegetables contain more nutriment than an equal amount of
dead flesh; (2) many serious diseases come from this loathsome habit of
devouring dead bodies; (3) man is not naturally made to be carnivorous and
therefore this abominable food is not suited to him; (4) men are stronger and
better on a vegetable diet; (5) the eating of dead bodies leads to indulgence in
drink and increases animal passions in man; (6) the vegetable diet is in every
way cheaper as well as better than flesh; (7) many more men can be supported by
a certain number of acres of land which are devoted to the growing of wheat than
by the same amount of land which is laid out in pasture; (8) in the former case
healthy work upon the land can be found for many more men than in the latter;
(9) men who eat flesh are responsible for the sin and degradation caused in the
slaughter-men; (10) carnivorous diet is fatal to real development, and produces
the most undesirable results on both astral and mental bodies; (11) man' s duty
towards the animal kingdom is not to slaughter it recklessly, but to assist in
its evolution.
872.
These are not points about which there can be any question; the fullest
evidence in support of each of them will be found in my book, Some Glimpses
of Occultism. No man needs these things, and to take them is just a matter
of selfish indulgence. Most men commit this act in ignorance of the harm that it
is doing; but remember, to continue to commit it when the truth is known is a
crime. Widely spread as they are, these are nothing but evil habits, and with a
little effort they can be laid aside like any other habit.
873.
SMOKING
874.
Another custom, also pernicious and equally widely spread, is that of
smoking. In this, as in so many other cases, a man at once resents any
suggestions that he should give up his bad habits, and says: “Why should I not
do as I like in these matters?” With regard to flesh-diet the answer to this is
perfectly clear, for that is a practice which not only seriously injures the man
who adopts it, but also involves terrible crime and cruelty in the provision of
the food. In the case of alcohol also a clear answer can be given, quite apart
from the effect upon the drinker himself, for by buying this noxious fluid he is
encouraging a pernicious trade, helping to create a demand for a liquor which
tempts thousands of his fellow-creatures to excess and lures them to their own
destruction. No man who buys alcohol for drinking purposes can escape his share
in the responsibility of that.
875.
It may be said that with regard to smoking the position is somewhat
different, since no cruelty is necessary in obtaining tobacco, nor are lives
destroyed by it as by alcohol. This is true, and if the smoker can entirely shut
himself away from any contact with his fellow-men, and if he has no desire to
make anything in the nature of occult progress, his argument may, so, far, hold
good. If, not being actually a hermit, he has sometimes at least to come into
touch with his fellowmen, he can have no possible right to make himself a
nuisance to them. There are many people who, being deeply steeped in the same
pollution themselves, have no objection to the nauseating odour of tobacco; but
all who have kept themselves pure from this thing know how strong is the disgust
which its coarse and fetid emanations inevitably arouse. Yet the smoker cares
little for that. As I have said elsewhere, this is the only thing that a
gentleman will deliberately do when he knows it to be offensive to others; but
the hold which this noxious habit gains upon its slaves appears to be so great
that they are utterly incapable of resisting it, and all their gentlemanly
instincts are forgotten in this mad and hateful selfishness.
876.
Anything which can produce such an effect as that upon a man' s character
is a thing that all wise men will avoid. The impurity of it is so great and so
penetrating that the man who habitually uses it is absolutely soaked in it, and
is most offensive to the sense of smell of the purer person. For this purely
physical reason no one who comes into contact with his fellows should indulge in
this most objectionable practice, and, if he does, he thereby brands himself as
one who thinks only of his own selfish enjoyment and is willing in taking it to
inflict much suffering upon his fellow-creatures. And all this is quite apart
from the deadening effect which it produces, and from the various diseases--
smoker' s throat, smoker' s heart, cancer in the mouth, indigestion and others--
which it brings in its train. For nicotine, as is well known, is a deadly
poison, and the effect of even small quantities of it can never be good.
877.
Why should any man adopt a custom which produces all these unpleasant
results? To this there is absolutely no answer except that he has taught himself
to like it; for it cannot be pretended that it is in any way necessary or
useful. I believe it to be quite true that in certain circumstances it soothes
the nerves; that is part of its deadening effect as a poison, but that result
can be equally well achieved by other and far less objectionable means. It is
always evil for a man to adopt a habit to which he becomes a slave-- evil for
himself, I mean; it is doubly evil when that habit brings with it the bad karma
of inflicting constant annoyance upon others.
878.
No child by nature likes the loathsome taste of this evil weed but,
because others older than himself indulge in it, he struggles painfully through
the natural nausea which it causes him at first-- the protest of his healthy
young body against the introduction of this polluting matter-- and so gradually
he forces himself to endure it, and eventually becomes a slave to it, like his
elders. It stunts his growth; it leads him into bad company; but what of that?
He has asserted his dawning manhood by proving himself capable of a ` manly'
vice. I know that parents frequently advise their children not to smoke; perhaps
if they set them the example of abstention, their sage counsels would produce a
greater effect. This is another habit with evil results which could so easily be
avoided-- all that is needed being simply not to do it.
879.
The impurity produced by this obscene practice is not only physical. It
may be taken as an axiom that physical filth of any sort always implies astral
filth as well, for the counterpart of that which is impure cannot itself be
pure. Just as the physical nerve-vibrations are deadened by the poison, so are
both astral and mental undulations. For occult progress a man needs to have his
vehicles as finely strung as possible, so that they may be ready at any moment
to respond in sympathy to any kind of vibration. Therefore he does not want to
have his thought-waves deadened and his astral body weighed down with foul and
poisonous particles. Many who call themselves students still cling to this
unpleasant habit, and try to find all sorts of weak excuses to cover the fact
that they have not the strength to break away from its tyranny; but facts remain
facts, for all that, and no one who can see the effects on the higher vehicles
of this disastrous custom can avoid the realisation that it does serious harm.
880.
Its effect in the astral world after death is a remarkable one. The man
has so filled his astral body with poison that it has stiffened under its
influence, and has become unable to work properly or to move freely. For a long
period the man is as though he were paralysed-- able to speak, yet debarred from
movement, and almost entirely cut off from all higher influences. In process of
time he emerges from this unpleasant predicament, when the part of his astral
body which is affected by this poison has gradually worn away.
881.
DRUGS
882.
The taking of opium or cocaine, though happily less common, is equally
disastrous, for from the occult point of view it is entirely ruinous and fatal
to progress. These drugs are sometimes a necessity in order to relieve great
pain; but they should be taken as sparingly as possible, and on no account be
allowed to degenerate into a habit. One who knows how to do it, however, can
remove the evil effect of the opium from the astral and mental bodies after it
has done its work upon the physical.
883.
Nearly all drugs produce a deleterious effect upon the higher vehicles,
and they are therefore to be avoided as much as possible. There are definite
cases in which they are clearly required, when they are really specifics for
certain diseases; but these are few, and in far the greater number of cases
nature herself will work a rapid cure if the surroundings are pure and healthy.
884.
With regard to the treatment of the body, prevention emphatically better
than cure, and those who live rationally will rarely need the services of a
doctor. Under all circumstances animal serums and products in any way connected
with or obtained by means of vivisection should be absolutely avoided. It should
be remembered that tea and coffee contain as their essence drugs called
respectively theine and caffeine, which are poisonous, so that an excess of
these beverages is a bad thing, especially for growing children; indeed, I
incline to the opinion that, while in moderation they do no serious harm, those
who find themselves able to avoid them are all the better for it.
885.
CLEANLINESS
886.
Doctors are usually agreed as to the necessity for physical cleanliness,
but the requirements of occultism are far more stringent than theirs. The waste
matter which is constantly being thrown off by the body in the shape of
imperceptible perspiration is rejected because it is poisonous and decaying
refuse, and the astral and mental counterparts of its particles are of the most
undesirable character. Dirt is often more objectionable in the higher worlds
than in the physical, and, just as in the physical world, it is not only foul
and poisonous in itself but it also inevitably breeds dangerous microbes, so in
these higher worlds it attracts low-class nature-spirits of a kind distinctly
prejudicial to man. Yet many people habitually carry a coating of filth about
with them, and so ensure for themselves the possession of an unpleasant retinue
of astral and etheric creatures.
887.
The thorough daily bath, therefore, is even more an occult than a
hygienic necessity, and purity of mind and feeling cannot exist without purity
of body also. The physical emanations of dirt are unpleasant, but those in the
astral and mental worlds are much more than merely unpleasant; they are
deleterious to the last degree, and dangerous not only to the man himself, but
to others. It is through the pores of the body that the magnetism of the person
rushes out, bearing with it what remains of the vital force. If therefore these
pores are clogged with filth, the magnetism is poisoned on its way out, and will
produce a pernicious effect upon all those around.
888.
We must remember that we are constantly interchanging the particles of
our bodies with those about us, and that our bodies therefore are not wholly our
own; we cannot do just as we like with them, because of the fact that they thus
constantly influence those of our brothers, the children of our common Father. A
comprehension of the most rudimentary idea of brotherhood shows us that it is an
absolute duty to others to keep our bodies healthy, pure and clean. If the
person be perfectly clean, his emanations will carry health and strength, and so
when we make ourselves purer we are helping others also.
889.
OCCULT HYGIENE
890.
This radiation is strongest of all from the ends of the fingers and toes,
so that even more than usual care should constantly be lavished upon the
strictest cleanliness in the case of these channels of influence. A careless
person who allows filth to accumulate under his finger-nails is all the time
pouring forth from the ends of his fingers what in the astral world exactly
corresponds to a torrent of peculiarly noisome sewage in the physical-- an
effect which makes his neighbourhood exceedingly unpleasant to any sensitive
person, and causes him to do harm in many cases where, but for that, he might be
doing good.
891.
For a similar reason special care of the feet is desirable. They should
never be encased in boots too tight for them, and thick, heavy walking boots
should never be worn an instant longer than is absolutely necessary, but should
be replaced by something soft, loose and easy. Indeed it is far better that
whenever possible the feet should be left uncovered altogether, or when that is
considered impossible, that a light sandal should be used without stockings or
socks. This plan could hardly be adopted out-of-doors amidst the horrible filth
of our large towns, but it surely ought to be possible in country houses and at
the seaside. It could be done indoors everywhere, and would be healthier and
more comfortable physically, as well as correct from the occult point of view.
But while we are all such slaves of fashion that any man who lived and dressed
rationally would probably be regarded as insane, I suppose that it is hopeless
to expect people to have sufficient strength of mind to do what is obviously
best for them.
892.
From the point of view of occult hygiene great care should be taken also
with regard to the head, which should be left uncovered whenever possible, and
never allowed to get hot. A hat is an utterly unnecessary article of clothing,
and people would be much better in every way without it; but here again probably
the foolishness of fashion will, as usual, stand in the way of common sense. The
folly of wearing a hat becomes immediately obvious when we remember that even in
the coldest weather we habitually leave the face entirely uncovered, even though
there is usually but little hair on it, whereas we are careful to put a
considerable and most insanitary weight upon the upper part of the head, which
nature has already abundantly covered with hair! Think, too, how much money
might be saved by discarding all unnecessary and positively harmful articles of
dress-- hats, boots, stockings, collars, cuffs, corsets.
893.
But people never use their own brains with regard to such matters; they
think only of what some one else is doing, and they never realise that their
boasted liberty is the merest sham, since they do not feel themselves free to
follow the plainest dictates of their reason, even with regard to a matter which
is so clearly their own private business as the clothing that they shall wear.
Future and more enlightened generations will look back with wonder and pity upon
the dreary monotony of ugliness to which this senseless thraldom condemns us.
894.
Another of the objectionable customs of our modern civilisation is that
of hair-cutting. It is outrageous that we should be expected to submit to have
our heads pawed about for a quarter of an hour or so by a person who is not
usually of the higher classes, who generally smells offensively of tobacco or
onions or pomatum, who breathes in our faces and worries us with a stream of
inane chatter-- and in any case has been promiscuously pawing the heads of a
score of others of His Majesty' s lieges without any intermediate process of
purification. Considering the fact that the head is precisely the part of the
human body where unpleasant alien magnetism will produce the greatest effect,
and that it is through the hands that magnetism flows most easily, one sees at
once what a peculiarly unscientific abomination this is. I do not suggest that
every man should let his hair grow to its full length; that is a matter entirely
for his private taste; but I do say that the person who cuts it should be his
wife or his mother, his brother or his sister, or at least somebody of the same
family or in close friendship, whose magnetism is likely to be on the whole
harmonious and reasonably pure. It may be that until we all have had a certain
amount of practice, the hair would not be quite so well cut as by the
professional person; but we should be far more than compensated by freedom from
headache, from unpleasant smells and from foreign influences.
895.
PHYSICAL EXISTENCE
896.
In order that its reaction upon higher vehicles should be satisfactory,
it is necessary that the physical body should be regularly exercised. This,
which doctors tell us is so desirable from the point of view of physical health,
is still more desirable from the point of view of health in other worlds. Not
only do unused muscles deteriorate and become feeble, but their condition
produces a congestion of magnetism, a check to its proper and healthy flow; and
that means a weak spot in the etheric double, through which a hostile influence
can easily penetrate. A man who keeps his physical body thoroughly well
exercised also keeps his etheric body in good order, which means in the first
place that he is far less liable to the penetration of unpleasant physical
germs, such as those of infection, for example. And in the second, because of
the reaction of this upon the astral and mental bodies, thoughts of depression
or of animal passion will find it almost impossible to seize upon him. Therefore
we see that due and regular physical exercise has great importance from the
occult standpoint; indeed we may say that all such practices as have been found
by experiment to promote the health of the physical body are also found to react
favourably upon the higher vehicles.
897.
READING AND STUDY
898.
There is an occult side to ever act of daily life, and it often happens
that if we know this occult side we can perform these daily actions more
perfectly or more usefully. Take, for example, the case of reading. Broadly
speaking, we read for two purposes, for study and for amusement. If one watches
with clairvoyant vision a person who is reading for the purpose of study, one is
often surprised to see how little the real meaning of what is written penetrates
into the mind of the reader. In a book that is carefully written, in order that
it may be studied, each sentence or paragraph usually contains a clear statement
of a certain definite idea. That idea expresses itself as a thought-form, the
shape or size of which varies according to the subject. But whether it is small
or large, whether it is simple or complicated, it is at least clear and definite
of its kind. It is usually surrounded with various subsidiary forms, which are
the expressions of corollaries or necessary deductions from the statement. Now
an exact duplicate of this, which is the author' s thought-form, should build
itself up in the reader' s mind, perhaps immediately, perhaps only by degrees.
Whether the forms indicating corollaries also appear; depends upon the nature of
the student' s mind-- whether he is or is not quick to see in a moment all that
follows from a certain statement.
899.
As a general rule, with a good student the image of the central idea will
reproduce itself fairly accurately at once, and the surrounding images will come
into being one by one as the students revolves the central idea in his mind. But
unfortunately with many people even the central idea is by no means properly
represented. Less developed mentally, they cannot make a clear reflection at
all, and they create a sort of amorphous, incorrect mass instead of a
geometrical form. Others manufacture something, which is indeed recognisable as
the same form, but with blunted edges and angles, or with one part of it
entirely out of proportion to the rest-- a badly drawn representation, in fact.
900.
Others succeed in making a kind of skeleton of it, which means that they
have grasped the outline of the idea, but are as yet quite unable to make it
living to themselves, or to fill in any of its detail. Others-- perhaps the most
numerous class-- touch one side of the idea and not the other, and so build only
half the form. Others seize one point in it and neglect all the rest, and so
generate a figure which may be accurate as far as it goes, but is not
recognisable as a copy of that given in the book. Yet these people will all
assert that they have studied the book in question, though if they were asked to
reproduce its contains from memory, the resulting essays would have little in
common.
901.
This means in the first place a lack of attention. These people
presumably read the words, but the ideas expressed by those words do not effect
a lodgment in their minds. Often it is easy for the clairvoyant to see the
reason for this, for if he watches the mental body of the student he sees it to
be occupied with half a dozen subjects simultaneously. Household cares, business
worries, thoughts of some recent pleasure or expectations of an approaching one,
a feeling of weariness and repulsion at having to study and a longing for the
time when the half-hour of study shall be over; all such feelings as these are
seething in the man' s brain, and occupying between them nine-tenths of the
matter of his mental body, while the poor remaining tenth is making a despairing
effort to get hold of the thought-form which he is supposed to be assimilating
from the book. Under these circumstances, naturally enough, it is hopeless to
expect any real benefit, and it would probably, on the whole, be better for such
a man of he did not attempt to study at all.
902.
From the examination of this hidden side of study, then, certain definite
rules emerge which it would be well for the intending student to follow. First,
he must begin by emptying his mind of all other thoughts and must see to it that
they are not permitted to return until his time of study is over. He must free
his mind from all cares and perplexities, and then he must concentrate it wholly
on the matter in hand. He should read through his paragraph slowly and
carefully, and then pause to see whether the image is clear in his mind. Then he
should read the passage over again with equal care, and see whether any
additional features have been added to his mental image; and he should repeat
this until he feels that he has a thorough grasp of the subject, and that no new
idea upon it will immediately suggest itself. When that is done he may usefully
see whether he can pick out any of the corollaries, whether he can surround his
central thought-form with planets depending on it.
903.
All this while, a mass of other thoughts will have been clamouring for
admission; but if our student is worthy of the name he will sternly refuse them
and keep his mind fixed exclusively on the question in hand. The original
thought-form which I have described represents the author' s conception as he
wrote, and it is always possible by earnest study to get thus into touch with
the mind of the author. Often through his thought-form he himself may be
reached, and additional information may be obtained or light may be gained on
difficult points. Usually the student, unless highly developed, cannot come into
conscious touch with the author, so as actually to interchange ideas
with him; any new thought will probably appear to the student as his own,
because it always comes into his physical brain from above, just as much when it
is suggested from outside as when it originates in his own mental body; but that
matters little so long as he gets a clear conception of his object.
904.
SYSTEM AND THOROUGHNESS
905.
All this the occult student does as a matter of course, and he does it
daily with the most exemplary regularity, for he recognises its importance,
first because he knows the necessity of systematic work or training, and
secondly because one of the duties most strongly impressed upon him is that of
thoroughness. His motto must be: “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with
thy might.” He knows that whatever he does he ought to do better than the man of
the world does it, that nothing will suffice but the best that is possible to
him, and that he must try ceaselessly to attain perfection in all his work,
developing all his vehicles to the utmost, in order that he nay gain that
perfection.
906.
NOVEL AND NEWSPAPER-READING
907.
Even when we read for amusement it is still eminently desirable that we
should form a habit of concentration upon what is read. After much study or hard
mental labour of any kind, it is often a great relief to turn to a good novel,
and there is no harm whatever in doing so, so long as moderation is observed.
The person who gives up his whole life to novel-reading is yielding to mental
dissipation, and if he continues to treat his mind in that way he will probably
soon find that it is of little use to him as an instrument for serious study.
But, as I have said, occasional novel-reading for relief is harmless and even
beneficial.
908.
Even then it is well not to read carelessly, but to try to form a clear
conception of each character, to make the people live and move before one. When
the author wrote his story he made such a series of thought-forms. Many other
readers since have come into touch with them and strengthened them, (though some
prefer to construct a fresh set of their own), and it is frequently possible to
see with the mind the author' s original set, and so to follow his story exactly
as he meant it.
909.
Of some well-known stories there are many renderings in the mental and
astral worlds. Of the biblical stories, for example, each nation has usually its
special presentation, and generally with the characters all dressed in its
particular national garb. Children have vivid and capable imaginations, so books
much read by them are sure to be well represented in the world of thought-forms;
we find many excellent and life-like portraits of such people as Sherlock
Holmes, Captain Kettle, John Silver, or Dr. Nikola.
910.
On the whole, however, the thought-forms evoked from the novels of to-day
are by no means so clear as those which our forefathers made of Robinson Crusoe
or of the characters in Shakespeare' s plays. That comes largely from the fact
that we rarely give more than half our attention to anything, even to a good
story, and that in turn is the consequence of the curious literary conditions of
our modern life. In the older days, if a man read at all, he read earnestly and
fixed his mind upon what he was doing. If he took up any subject, he read
serious books upon that subject. In these days a large number of people
dependent for almost all the information they possess upon newspapers and
magazines. The magazine or newspaper article conveys in a handy form for easy
assimilation a certain amount of superficial information upon its subject,
whatever that may be; it gives enough to enable a man to talk lightly about the
matter at a dinner-table, but not enough to tax his intellect or to give him a
sense of mental effort. It is an age of information by snippets, and the
ultimate expression of its spirit is shown by the enormous circulation of such
papers as Tit-Bits and Answers. The mind which gains its
information in this way has no real grasp of any subject-- no solid foundation;
and because it has accustomed itself to feeding upon highly-spiced fragments it
finds itself incapable of digesting a more satisfying meal.
911.
An unpleasant feature of the newspaper press of the present day is the
great prominence given to murders and divorce cases, and the wealth of sickening
detail about them which is put before the public, day after day. This is bad
enough from any point of view, but when, we add to ordinary considerations those
which are shown to us by the study of the hidden side of all these things, we
are fairly appalled. The result of this prurient publicity is that all over the
country great masses of vivid and most objectionable thought-forms are
constantly being generated; people picture the horrible details of the murder,
or gloat libidinously over suggestive facts or remarks connected with the
divorce case, and the resulting thought-forms in the first case are of a
terrifying character to any nervous person who can be influenced by them, and in
the second case constitute a distinct temptation towards evil thought and action
for those who have in them germs of sensuality. This is no mere supposition as
to what must occur-- it is a definite chronicle of what constantly does
occur. No clairvoyant can avoid noticing the great increase in unpleasant
thought-forms during the progress of any of these sensational cases.
912.
On the other hand, it is only fair to remember that the curious
fragmentary literature of to-day reaches a multitude of people who in the old
days did not read at all. A man who is at heart and by disposition a reality
serious student still studies just as of old. A certain number of people who in
the older days might have studied seriously, are now diverted from doing so by
the facility with which they can obtain superficial information in small doses;
but a much greater number of people who would never under any circumstances have
taken up serious study are now beguiled into acquiring at least a certain amount
of information by the ease with which it can be done. Many a man buys a magazine
on a railway-journey, for the purpose of reading the stories in it; finishing
them before the journey is over, he fills up his time by imbibing the other
contents of his periodical, and in that way learns many things which he did not
know before, and may even have his attention attracted to some subject which
appeals to him-- in which presently he will learn to take serious interest.
913.
So these curious basketfuls of miscellaneous information may be said to
do good as well as harm, for though the taste for desultory reading and bad
jokes may not in itself be a great gain to the errand-boy or the shop assistant,
it is nevertheless for him the beginning of literature, and it occupies a
certain amount of his time which might easily be worse spent in public-houses or
in doubtful company. In days before the school-board, the place of the cheap
magazine was largely taken by the spoken story, and it is to be feared that many
of the stories told by young men when they were alone together were often of a
nature that would certainly not be admitted into our weekly papers. So we must
not altogether despise these things, though the serious student does well to
avoid them, just because they fill the mental body with a mass of little
unconnected thought-forms like pebbles, instead of building up in it an orderly
edifice.
914.
SPEECH
915.
It is emphatically necessary to remember that speech must be absolutely
true. Accuracy in speech is a quality rarely shown in these days, and careless
exaggeration is painfully common. Many people are habitually so loose in their
statements that they lose all sense of the meaning of words; they constantly say
` awfully' when they mean ` very,' or describe something as ` killing' when they
are trying to convey the idea that it is mildly amusing. The occultist must not
be led away by custom in this matter, but must be meticulously exact in all that
he says. There are people who consider it allowable to tell a falsehood by way
of what they call a joke, in order to deceive another and then to laugh at his
credulity-- a credulity which is surely in no way blameworthy, since the victim
has simply given the narrator credit for being enough of a gentleman to speak
the truth! I need hardly say that such falsehood is absolutely unpermissible.
There can never under any circumstances be anything amusing in telling a lie or
deceiving anyone, and the word or the action is just as definitely a wicked
thing when spoken or done for that purpose as for any other.
916.
The wise man will never argue. Each man has a certain amount of force,
and is responsible for using it to the best possible advantage. One of the most
foolish ways in which to fritter it away is to waste it in argument. People
sometimes come to me and want to argue about Theosophy. I invariably decline. I
tell them that I have certain information that I can give, certain testimony
that I can offer as to what I have myself seen and experienced. If this
testimony is of value to them, they are more than welcome to it, and I am glad
to give it to them, as indeed I have done over and over again in this and in
other books; but I have not time to argue the matter with people who do not
believe me. They have the full right to their own opinion, and are at perfect
liberty to believe or disbelieve as they choose. I have no quarrel with those
who cannot accept my testimony; but I have also no time to waste over them, for
that time may be far better occupied with those who are prepared to accept such
message as I have to give.
917.
Whistler is credited with having once remarked in the course of a
conversation on art: “I am not arguing with you; I am telling you the facts.” It
seems to me that that is the wisest position for the Theosophical student. We
have studied certain things; so far as we have gone we know them to be true, and
we are willing to explain them; if people are not yet prepared to accept them,
that is exclusively their affair, and we wish them good speed in whatever line
of investigation they wish to take. Argument leads constantly to heated feelings
and to a sense of hostility-- both things by all means to be avoided. When it is
necessary to discuss any subject in all its bearings, in order to decide upon a
course of action, let it be done always gently and temperately, and let each man
state his own case kindly and deliberately, and listen with all politeness and
deference to the opinions of others.
918.
MEDITATION
919.
Just as a man who wishes to be strong finds it advisable to use definite,
prescribed exercises to develop his physical body, so the student of occultism
uses definite and prescribed exercises to develop his astral and mental
vehicles. This is best done by meditation. Of this there are many kinds, and
each teacher enjoins that which he thinks most suitable. All the religions
recommend it, and its desirability has been recognised by every school of
philosophy. This is not the place to suggest any particular system; those who
belong to the Theosophical Society know that within it there is a school for
such practices, and those who wish for further information are referred to it.
920.
All systems alike set before themselves certain objects, which are not
difficult to comprehend. They all direct that a man should spend a certain time
each day in thinking steadily and exclusively of holy things, and their objects
in doing so are: first, to ensure that at least once each day a man shall think
of such things, that his thoughts shall at least once in twenty-four hours be
taken away from the petty round of daily life, from its frivolities and its
troubles; secondly, to accustom the man to think of such matters, so that after
a time they may be present always at the back of his mind, as a kind of
background to his daily life-- something to which his mind returns with pleasure
when it is released from the immediate demands of his business; thirdly, as I
began by saying, as a kind of astral and mental gymnastics, to preserve these
higher bodies in health, and to keep the stream of divine life flowing through
them (and for these purposes it should be remembered that the regularity
of the exercises is of the first importance); fourthly, because this is the way,
even though it be only the first halting step upon the way, which leads to
higher development and wider knowledge, the gate of the road which through many
a struggle and many an effort leads to the attainment of clairvoyance, and
eventually into the higher life beyond this world altogether.
921.
Although the man in his daily meditation may see but little progress, and
it may seem to him that his efforts are altogether unsatisfactory and without
result, a clairvoyant watching him will see exactly how the astral and mental
bodies are slowly coming out of chaos into order, slowly expanding and gradually
learning to respond to higher and higher vibrations. He can see, though the
experimenter cannot, how each effort is gradually thinning the veil that divides
him from that other world of direct knowledge. He can see how the man' s
thought-forms grow day by day more definite, so that the life poured into them
from above becomes fuller and fuller, and reacts more and more strongly upon
their originator, even though that originator may be entirely unconscious of it;
and so, speaking from his knowledge of the hidden side of things, the
clairvoyant advises all aspirants to meditate, to meditate regularly, and to
continue their meditation with the certain conviction that (quite irrespective
of their own feelings) they are producing results, and steadily drawing nearer
and nearer to their goal.
922.
Old Dr. Watts is alleged to have perpetrated a hymn which said that
“Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do”. He probably referred
exclusively to the physical world; but the wise man knows that that is true at
any rate with regard to the mind. The time when an evil thought springs up in
the mind is the time when it is lying fallow and unoccupied. Therefore the
surest way to avoid temptation is to keep steadily at work, and since even the
most indefatigable of mortals cannot work always, it is well that for those
dangerous moments of leisure he should have a safeguard in the shape of a
definite subject upon which his mind always instinctively falls back when not
otherwise occupied. Most men have some such background, but often its nature is
trivial or even undesirable. There are men who have impure thoughts at the back
of their minds all the time, and others have jealousy or hatred. Many mothers
are thinking all the time of their children, and the man in love usually has a
portrait of his charmer always on view, often indeed occupying the foreground as
well as the background of his mind.
923.
When a man has attained to the dignity of having the right sort of
background to his life, he is in a position of far greater security. For some
natures religion provides such a background; but these natures are rare. For
most men only the study of the great truths of nature can provide it-- only that
knowledge of the scheme of things which in these modern days we call Theosophy.
When that great plan is once grasped, the mind and the higher emotions are both
engaged on it, and the man' s whole nature is so filled with it that no other
thought, no other attitude is possible to him but that of the intense desire to
throw himself and all that he has into that mighty plan, and to become, as far
as in him lies, a fellow-worker together with the Deity who conceived it.
924.
So this becomes the background of his mind-- the dominating thought from
which he has to turn away in order to attend to the details of outer life-- to
which he gladly and instantly returns when his duty to those details is done.
When he can attain to this condition he is in a position of far greater safety
from evil thought, and he need have no fear that this constant preoccupation
with higher things will in any way mar his efficiency down here. He will do his
daily work better, not worse, because he is constantly going behind it to
something far greater and more permanent; for it is precisely the men with this
higher stimulus for a background who have been the most efficient workers of the
world.
925.
As Keble puts it
926.
There are, in this loud stunning tide
927.
Of human care and crime,
928.
With whom the melodies abide
929.
Of the everlasting chime.
930.
And then he speaks of them as
931.
Plying their daily task with busier feet
932.
Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.
933.
CHAPTER XV
934.
BY PHYSICAL ENVIRONMENT
935.
HOUSES
936.
IT is the fashion, and not unreasonably, to attach great importance to
the influence of environment. When that expression is used people generally mean
an environment into which they are born, or one which is imposed upon them from
without and is in no way dependent upon their own will. There is, however,
another environment which is often forgotten: that which we create for
ourselves-- the great influence produced upon us in daily life by the place in
which we choose to live and the objects with which we voluntarily surround
ourselves. One may often judge from the outside of a house something of the
disposition of those who inhabit it, and a man' s room is to a certain extent an
expression of him, for it shows his taste in books, pictures, statues,
furniture, wall-paper and flowers; and every one of all these things is
constantly reacting upon him, even though he never thinks of it.
937.
One who is a student of occultism will be guided in choosing a house for
himself by a number of considerations which would not be likely to occur to the
ordinary man, who probably bases his decision principally on such facts as the
size and the rent of the house, whether its drains are in order, and how far it
is from the tramway or railway station. Such points as these naturally define
the area of his choice; the study of the hidden side of things, while not
interfering with these, suggests some additional considerations. From our point
of view it is material to have as much room as possible about the house-- to
have it as far removed as possible from its neighbours. Once more, this means no
reflection upon the neighbours. They may be all that can possibly be desired,
yet it is always better to avoid the mixture of varying vibrations. One may
earnestly wish sometimes for the society of one' s neighbour, and when that
happens it is always possible to visit him or to invite him to call. But to be
always in such close proximity to him as to feel every change in his aura-- that
is a condition of affairs which ought never to exist, although unfortunately it
too often does.
938.
In all those long lines of houses which are so common in our great towns,
it is impossible, from the occult point of view, to escape from one' s
neighbour. Whenever he walks up to the dividing wall, his aura must project
through it, and it will be seen that, with a neighbour in close contact on each
side, we are practically in the room with two families, whose tastes and
interests may be absolutely different from our own, who may have all sorts of
thoughts and aspirations which clash entirely with those to which we wish to
devote ourselves. Even a semi-detached house is better than these, for at least
in that we share our quarters with only one family, but the truth is that there
ought to be no houses but detached houses, however valuable the ground may be.
Certainly no one who understands the power of the unseen influences would take a
house which is one of a row, if he could by any possibility avoid it. The same
difficulty occurs with our modern flats and apartment houses. They may have many
advantages and their fittings may be all that can be desired, but they are
always open to this most serious objection. If, however, a man' s circumstances
are such that he must thus live in common with others, he will at least
do all that lies in his power to secure that these others shall be reasonably
harmonious.
939.
Another weighty matter from the occult point of view is the aspect of the
house. Considerations of physical health prescribe that a sunny rather than a
dark house should be chosen, and these are emphatically reinforced when we think
of the higher worlds. I have already said something as to the imperious
necessity of sunshine and of all that it brings with it. Not only physical
disease, but irritability and depression fly before the direct rays of the sun;
so plenty of sunlight and fresh air are the first and most prominent desiderata.
940.
The influences of the immediate neighbourhood must also be taken into
account. Under no circumstances whatever ought a man to take a house which is
near to a public-house, a slaughter-house, a prison, or a butcher's shop. It is
also eminently undesirable to be in close proximity to the office of a
pawnbroker or a moneylender, or to any place where violent and acrimonious
debates and arguments are frequently held-- in the latter case because of the
wearing effect of constant jarring and angry vibrations, and in the case of the
usurer because radiations of sorrow and despair are always connected with his
business, and often there is bitter hatred as well.
A club, too, should be avoided, if it permits gambling.
941.
The type of the previous tenants may make a great difference in the
comfort of a house. If they have been spendthrifts, if they have been
quarrelsome, or if they have suffered deeply from long-continued depression, the
place may be so impregnated with thought-forms of those varied types as to be a
dwelling quite unsuitable for any sensitive family. This difficulty, however,
can be overcome by an elaborate demagnetisation, if the student knows how to do
it.
942.
Not only the aspect of the house, as regards the points of the compass,
but its aspect in the other sense of the word is also worth noticing. No one
should take a house which is ugly, gloomy-looking, or depressing in appearance--
not only because of its effect upon himself when he looks at it, but because it
is constantly surrounded by a cloud of thought-forms made by neighbours or
passing strangers who are disgusted with its appearance. Even though the house
outside be pretty, if there is squalid ugliness in the immediate neighbourhood,
it is unsuitable. Above all things to be avoided are those long and monotonous
lines of mean and sordid-looking houses which one may see in some London
suburbs. A garden of some sort is a most valuable asset. In fact, a little
cottage in the midst of a large garden is better than the most magnificent house
which stands close upon the road in the midst of a row of others.
943.
STREETS
944.
If the house be in a street, the nature of that street is a matter of
great importance. If the road be paved with granite blocks or in any other way
conducive to noise, it should be avoided at all costs; whereas a quieter form of
paving, such as asphalt or wood, would count much in its favour. A street
infested by yelling fiends in the shape of hawkers is also unfit for the
habitation of anyone possessing the usual allowance of nerves-- so long as our
government neglects to protect us against so flagrant a nuisance. It goes
without saying that one should avoid a street in which there is constant heavy
traffic or one in the immediate neighbourhood of a railway or tram line-- near
enough, I mean, to suffer from the noise; for noise, as I have already
explained, is one of the greatest defects of our defective civilisation.
945.
Although after a time a man gets used to the noise, and hardly notices
it, nevertheless every fresh outburst is a blow to his astral and mental bodies,
and the effect of this is precisely that of constantly repeated blows upon the
physical body-- each one may be no great matter, but after a time the cumulative
effect hurts exceedingly. In the physical body this would mean pain, and we
should at once understand it and refer it to its source; in the case of the
astral body it means irritability; and in the case of the mental body a feeling
of fatigue and inability to think clearly. But when these supervene we do not so
readily understand them, nor do we always assign them to their true cause.
Consequently the neighbourhood of any building which is either noisy or noisome
with smoke or chemicals (as a factory might be) is to be sedulously avoided.
946.
Many of my readers may be so situated that it is impossible for them to
take all these recommendations into consideration, and I offer them only as a
guide to what is desirable when it can be had. If a man who is entirely
unfettered is about to choose a house or a site for a house, I should advise him
to be governed in his selection by what I have said above; but I know well that
most people are practically limited as to the range of their choice by the
question of rent, convenient access to their work, and a number of other
personal reasons. In such cases a man must simply balance the advantages and
disadvantages, and do the best that he can, taking it as the result of his own
actions in the past that he cannot do better.
947.
PICTURES
948.
A matter in which a man has usually much greater liberty is the
decoration of his room, and it is one of considerable importance to him. For
example, the pictures which we hang on the walls of our homes are exercising all
the while an unnoticed influence upon us, not only because they keep the
expression of certain ideas constantly before our eyes, but also because the
artist puts a great deal of himself, of his inmost thought and feeling, into his
work, and the effect of all that thought and feeling inheres in the picture and
radiates from it just as surely as scent inheres in and radiates from a rose.
There is a hidden side to every picture-- the conception which was in the
artist' s mind and heart. That conception, when he formed it, expressed itself
clearly in astral and mental matter, even though he may have succeeded but
partially in bringing his idea down to the physical world.
949.
Every true artist will acknowledge that, however excellent his work may
be, it invariably falls short of what he intended and expected. Yet the
conception, as he thought it out, exists really and vividly in the mental world,
and the feelings and emotions which he endeavoured to express exist in the
astral realm, and these, which we may call the unseen counterparts of the
picture, are always radiating vibrations of their own character, whatever that
may be, and are therefore producing a never-ceasing effect upon those who live
within their influence.
950.
Manifestly, therefore, it behoves us to be careful as to the nature of
the objects of art which we gather around us. We must avoid all pictures whose
subjects are mean, sordid or terrible, however accurately or powerfully those
subjects may be delineated. It is well also to avoid even those which, though
harmless in themselves, are likely to suggest impure thought to undeveloped
minds, because such thought-forms will hang about the picture and act as a
constant and baneful influence. The modern craze for inane representations of
the female face and figure is from this point of view distinctly to be
deprecated. So also is that form of artistic realism which sees only the darkest
side of life, and recognises nothing as natural unless it be decadent and
depraved.
951.
Pictures of sordid scenes of low life, of peasants drinking in an
ale-house, of battle scenes or of huntsmen gathered together to slaughter an
unfortunate fox: all these will be avoided by the wise man. He will be careful
to surround himself only with such pictures as are ennobling, soothing, helpful,
those which shed upon him and his an influence tending ever to happiness and
peace. Beautiful landscapes and sea-views are usually best of all; pictures also
of grand old cathedrals-- magnificent buildings with peaceful associations;
sometimes a portrait or imaginary figure, if the face be really a fine one, but
never under any circumstances one which suggests sorrow, anger or pain.
952.
In religious pictures, for example, the crucifixion, and the garden of
Gethsemane must never appear, but the risen and radiant Christ or a reasonably
attractive presentment of the Virgin and Child are admissible. In the same way
with statues; only those should find a place which are of exquisite beauty, in
connection with which there could never be the least thought of impurity. A man
should think not only of himself, but of servants and possible visitors. No
decent person could have thoughts other than the purest in connection with any
picture or statue whatever; but if such a thing hangs or stands where others may
see it, it is useless to ignore the fact that low-class minds will form
low-class images, and so an object which to us is noble and beautiful may come
to radiate abominable influences.
953.
Care must be exercised with regard to photographs. Private friends are of
course admissible, or a public man whom one admires; but on no account should
the figures of actresses be introduced, as they always attract the most
undesirable thought-forms from hosts of impure-minded people. A praiseworthy
custom is to have in a prominent position the best available portrait of the
ruler of the country, and to surround it constantly with waves of affectionate
and loyal thought, for in this way it will radiate an influence of loyalty and
devotion upon all who enter the room.
954.
CURIOSITIES
955.
Many people like to surround themselves with all sorts of curious little
objects-- figures, pieces of pottery, carvings in ivory and ebony and so on.
Most of these things are harmless enough, though it means a great deal of
trouble to keep them scrupulously clean, and unless they are so kept, they
become a nuisance of an aggravated type. But with regard to some of these little
mementos a certain amount of caution is desirable. Many of such things are old,
and some of them have a history attached to them-- sometimes a terrible history.
It is widely known, for example, that a lady in London had in her house for some
time an Egyptian mummy-case, the influences connected with which were of so
serious a character that she was speedily forced to get rid of it altogether,
because of a series of disasters which overtook all who came into contact with
it. That is an extreme case, but other kinds of curiosities also have
undesirable or mischievous auras.
956.
Many such objects tell their own story, though the owner is often unaware
of it. A sensitive person sometimes finds landscapes which are entirely unknown
to him or scenes from some foreign land starting up unbidden in his mind. These
may come from various sources. They may be mere pictures formed by the
imagination, his own or that of some other person in the neighbourhood, either
dead or living; they may be examples of casual clairvoyance at a distance; but
they may be, and often are, instances of unintentional psychometry, and can be
traced to some object in the room.
957.
For every body, of whatever nature it may be, carries within it the power
of showing, to those who can see, pictures of its past history, and sometimes
these come to the surface unexpectedly. Some are good and some are bad; some are
harmless and others are actively unpleasant. When a man acquires some ancient
object of unknown history, he has usually no means of telling immediately
whether it will prove helpful, harmful or negative, but if he watches carefully
he will soon see. Certain types of curiosities are obviously undesirable from
the outset-- such things, for example, as spears, swords, daggers, or anything
which may have been connected with bloodshed.
958.
BOOKS
959.
To a discerning eye a man shows his nature in his choice of books-- a
choice which is of great importance to him. A man reads a book; he lays it aside
and perhaps forgets it; but nevertheless it lies there on his table or his
book-shelf and it continues to pour upon him a steady influence, whether for
good or for evil. Many books, it is true, have no pronounced influence, and may
therefore be considered as neutral. But if a book has done us good, its
influence will usually continue to be for good, unless indeed it happens that we
outgrow it altogether, and in that case its influence might possibly be a kind
of retardation.
960.
The main thing is to avoid definitely evil books-- horrible, neurotic
studies of characters which are better left unstudied, tales of unnatural and
most unpleasant women who are always hovering as near as they dare to the edge
of impropriety of some sort, stories of doubtful morality, of shady
transactions, or of blank inanity. All these are things for which a sensible man
will spare no room on his book-shelves, because they are not worth reading in
the first place, and they certainly radiate an impure and unwholesome influence
in the second. The great criterion in the formation of a library is that only
sane and healthy books should be admitted, for books are specially strong
centres of thought-forms, and their unnoticed influence in a man' s life is
often a powerful one. They should be not too many, but emphatically good of
their kind.
961.
FURNISHING
962.
There is hidden side to even so homely a question as that of furniture
and colour decoration, since every colour has its own special rate of vibration,
and some of these rates are helpful to man, while others are distinctly a
hindrance. Broadly speaking, light and delicate tints are good, while heavy,
coarse and dark colours are usually to be avoided. Some consideration should
also be given to the purpose for which the room is intended; for example,
certain shades of red might be not out of place in a dining-room, but would be
far from desirable in a room consecrated to sleep or to meditation.
963.
JEWELLERY
964.
Another adjunct of ordinary life, in which the hidden side is of great
importance, is jewellery. On the whole, the wearing of jewellery is to be
discouraged, because, though every stone has its own special property and
influence, the most prominent effect of nearly all of them is to excite bitter
envy and covetousness in the hearts of others. Quite a number of women seem to
be unable to contemplate a jewel without becoming filled with an inordinate
greed to possess it, so that there is scarcely a stone of any beauty or value
which is not the centre for many converging streams of jealous longing.
965.
In the case of the great historical jewels we have the additional
complication that all kinds of ghastly crimes have been committed in connection
with them, and they are therefore usually objects of horror rather than of
beauty to any sensitive person. The jewel represents the highest development of
the mineral kingdom, and consequently its power of receiving and retaining
impressions is much greater than is the case with almost any other object. The
Gnostic gems employed in initiation ceremonies two thousand years ago still
remain vigorous centres of magnetic influence, as may be seen and felt by any
sensitive person who will take the trouble to examine some of those in the
British Museum.
966.
At the spot where any great crime has been committed, or where vivid
emotions of fear, anger, hatred or revenge have been in action, an astral
impression is made which is immediately obvious in its full horror to the
clairvoyant, and is frequently sensed to some extent even by persons in whom the
higher senses are entirely undeveloped. This is true to a still greater extent
of a jewel which has been the cause of many crimes, has been present at them and
has absorbed the effect of all the passions which prompted them.
Such a jewel retains these impressions with unimpaired clearness
for thousands of years, and continues to radiate out from itself the vibrations
appropriate to them; and the psychometer sees around it all these pictures of
indescribable horror. The wearer of the jewel frequently does not see them, but
nevertheless their pernicious effect is constantly exercised upon her.
967.
It is not only in connection with great historical gems that this
unpleasantness exists, for I have come across several instances in which
ordinary stones have been the occasion of a terrible crime among the miners who
discovered them. I know of one such, in which the finder was murdered by another
man, but lived long enough to attach a fearful curse to the gem for the sake of
which he had lost his life. This curse was acting so definitely upon various
wearers of the jewel fifty years later, that it seemed the safest and best
course to throw the stone into the sea-- which was accordingly done.
968.
TALISMANS
969.
In a general way, therefore, the occultist avoids all jewellery, and he
certainly never wears it for the sake of show. At the same time the fact that a
precious stone will retain magnetism so perfectly for so long a time, and will
store so much power in such a small compass, makes it a convenient object when a
talisman is required for any purpose. For a talisman is not, as is often
supposed, a mere relic of mediaeval superstition; it may be a definite and very
effective agent in daily life. It is some small object, strongly charged with
magnetism for a particular purpose by someone who knows how to do it, and when
properly made it continues to radiate this magnetism with unimpaired strength
for many years. The purposes to which such things can be applied are almost
infinite in number.
970.
For example, many a student at the beginning of his career is much
troubled by impure thoughts. Naturally he sets himself to struggle against them,
and maintains a constant watch against their advance; but nevertheless
thought-forms of an objectionable nature are numerous and insidious, and
sometimes one of them contrives to obtain a lodgment in his mind and causes him
much trouble before be can finally shake it off. He may perhaps have been in the
habit of yielding himself to such thoughts in the past without realising the
evil of it, and if that is so, his thought has acquired a momentum in that
direction which is not easy to overcome. A talisman, strongly charged with the
powerful magnetism of thoughts of purity, may be an invaluable help to him in
his efforts.
971.
The rationale of its action is not difficult to understand. An impure
thought expresses itself as a certain definite set of undulations in the astral
and lower mental bodies, and it can find entrance into a man' s vehicles only
when they are either comparatively at rest or vibrating so feebly that its
impact can readily overpower the existing rate of motion, and take its place.
The talisman is heavily charged with an exactly contrary rate of oscillation,
and the two cannot co-exist. One of them must overpower the other and bring it
into harmony with itself. The impure thought has probably been made by some
casual person, not usually with any definite intent; it is generally simply a
suggestion or reminiscence of lower passions. It is not therefore a thing of
great power in itself; but it is likely to produce an effect quite out of
proportion to its intrinsic strength, because of the readiness with which the
average person accepts it and responds to it.
972.
The talisman, on the other hand, has been intentionally charged for a
definite purpose by some one who knows how to think; and this is a matter in
which definite training makes so much difference that the lightest thought of a
man who has learnt how to think is far more powerful than a whole day' s
desultory musings on the part of an ordinary man. So, when the two streams of
thought come into contact, there is not the slightest doubt as to which will
vanquish the other. If we can suppose that the wearer of the amulet forgot his
good resolutions, and actually wished for a time for the impure thought, no
doubt he could attract it in spite of the talisman, but he would be conscious
all the time of great discomfort arising from the discord between the two sets
of vibrations.
973.
In most cases the man who is really trying to do better falls only
because he is taken off his guard. The impure thought creeps in insidiously and
has seized upon him before he is aware of it, and then he quickly reaches the
condition in which for the moment he does not even wish to resist. The value of
the talisman is that it gives him time to recollect himself. The disharmony
between its undulations and those of the wandering thought, cannot but attract
the man' s attention, and thus while he wears it he cannot be taken unawares, so
that if he falls he falls deliberately.
974.
Again, some people suffer much from apparently causeless fear. Often they
are quite unable to give any reason for their feelings; but at certain times,
and especially when alone at night, they are liable to be attacked by extreme
nervousness, which may gradually increase to positive terror. There may be
various explanations for this. Perhaps the commonest is the presence of some
hostile astral entity who is persecuting the victim-- sometimes in the hope of
obtaining through him some sensations which he desires, sometimes in the
endeavour to obtain control over him and obsess him, sometimes for sheer
mischief and impish love of demonstrating his power over a human being. Here
again is a case in which the mediaeval remedy has a distinct practical value.
Naturally, the talisman against impurity would not avail in this case, for quite
a different sort of motion is required. What is wanted in this case is a centre
strongly charged with vibrations expressive of courage and self-reliance-- or,
if the wearer is of the devotional type, with thoughts of the protective power
of his special deity.
975.
For an amulet has a double action. Not only does it operate directly by
means of the waves which it radiates, as we have just described in the case of
impurity, but also the knowledge of its presence usually awakens the faith and
courage of the wearer. In the case of a talisman against fear, such as we are
now considering, the two lines of action will be clearly marked. Courage
expresses itself in the mental and astral bodies by the strength and steadiness
of their striations, and by the calm, steadfast shining of the colours
indicating the various higher qualities. When fear overpowers a person all these
colours are dimmed and overwhelmed by a livid grey mist, and the striations are
lost in a quivering mass of palpitating jelly; the man has for the time quite
lost the power of guiding and controlling his vehicles.
976.
The vibrations of strength and courage steadily radiating from the
talisman are quite unaffected by the feelings of the wearer, and when the first
tremblings of fear begin to manifest themselves they find a difficulty in their
way. If unopposed, they would steadily increase, each augmenting and
strengthening the other until their power became irresistible. What the talisman
does is to prevent them from reaching this condition of irresistible velocity.
It deals with them at the commencement, while they are still weak. The
resistance which it opposes to them is precisely the same in kind as that which
a gyroscope opposes to any effort to turn it aside from its line. It is so
determinedly set in motion in one direction that it will sooner fly to pieces
than allow itself to be turned into any other. Suddenly to bring such a power as
this into conflict with unreasoning panic would probably result in the complete
shattering of the astral body concerned; but if the gyroscopic force of the
talisman is already working before the alarm is felt, its determined persistence
along its own lines checks the first beginnings of fear, and so makes it
impossible for the person ever to reach the later stages of panic terror.
977.
That is its direct operation; but it works also indirectly upon the mind
of the wearer. When he feels the first beginnings of fear stirring within him he
probably recollects the amulet and clutches at it, and then there arises within
him the feeling: “Why should I fear so long as I have with me this strong centre
of magnetism?” And so, instead of yielding to the vibrations and allowing them
to lengthen themselves until they become unmanageable, he calls up the reserve
strength of his own will and asserts himself as master of his vehicles, which is
in truth all that is necessary.
978.
There is a third possibility in connection with a talisman, which is in
some cases even more powerful than the other two. The object, whatever it may
be, has been strongly magnetised by some individual, by the hypothesis a person
of power and development, and therefore also probably highly sensitive. That
being so, the talisman is a link with its creator, and through it his attention
may be attracted. Under ordinary conditions its connection with its originator
is of the slightest, but when the wearer is in desperate circumstances he
sometimes actually calls upon the maker, much in the way in which the mediaeval
devotee when in difficulties invoked the assistance of his patron saint; and
that call will unquestionably reach the maker of the amulet and evoke a response
from him. If he is still living in the physical world, he may or may not be
conscious of the appeal in his physical brain; but in any case his ego will be
conscious, and will respond by reinforcing the vibration of the talisman by a
strong wave of his own more powerful thought, bearing with it strength and
comfort.
979.
Many ignorant men would scoff at such an idea as relic of mediaeval
superstition, yet it is an actual scientific fact which has been demonstrated on
hundreds of occasions. So far as its direct action goes, a talisman will work
only in the direction in which it is made to work; but its indirect action on
the faith of the possessor may sometimes take unexpected forms. I remember once
making a charm for a certain noble lady, in order to protect her against spasms
of extreme nervousness and even positive fear which occasionally swept over her
when alone at night. She told me afterwards that this amulet had been of the
greatest assistance to her in an emergency which I certainly did not contemplate
when I made it.
980.
It appears that on a certain occasion she was driving an exceptionally
spirited horse (I believe that her husband made it a sort of boast that he never
used horses which anybody else could drive) in a dog-cart, through a forest. The
horse took fright at something or other, got the bit between its teeth and
dashed madly off the road, and started at a wild gallop among the tree trunks.
The groom on the back seat was so certain that they were all destined to
immediate death that he threw himself off as best he could, and was sorely
injured by the fall; but the lady declares that her thought at once flew to the
charm which she was then wearing, and she says that she knew absolutely that she
could not be killed while, as she expresses it, under its protection. This utter
certainty kept her perfectly cool and collected, and she steered that dog-cart
through the forest with consummate skill. She declares that on the whole she was
certainly in the air more often than on the ground as the wheels bounded over
roots and crashed through the bushes. But nevertheless she held on bravely until
the horse became tired, and she was able to regain control of it. She thanked me
enthusiastically for saving her life by means of the charm; but the truth is
that it was not the direct action of the talisman, but the strength of her faith
in it, which enabled her to gain so splendid a victory. That was undoubtedly the
main factor; there may have been a certain amount of direct action also, because
the stilling effect of the strong vibration of the talisman would catch any
dawning feeling of fear and calm it, though I had prepared it to deal rather
with first symptoms gradually arising than with so sudden an emergency as that.
981.
There are various articles which are to a large extent natural amulets.
All precious stones may be said to belong to this category, for each has a
distinct influence which can be utilised in two ways. First, the influence
necessarily attracts to it elemental essence of a certain kind, and also all
such thoughts and desires as naturally express themselves through that essence;
and secondly, the fact that it has these natural peculiarities makes it a fit
vehicle for magnetism which is intended to work along the same line as those
thoughts or emotions. Suppose, for example, it is desired to drive away impure
thought. Impure thought means usually a complex set of vibrations, but set on
the whole in a certain definite key. In order to resist them a stone should be
chosen whose natural undulations are inharmonious with that key, so that they
may offer to the impure impulses the greatest possible obstacle. If it is
intended to make a talisman against those impure thoughts, a stone which
naturally offers resistance to them is the vehicle which can most easily be
loaded with the opposing influence.
982.
The vibrations of the particles of the stone are on the physical level,
while those of the emotions are on the astral level, several octaves higher; but
a stone, the particles of which move naturally on the physical plane in a key
which is identical at this level with the key of purity on higher levels, will
itself, even without magnetisation, operate as a check upon impure thought or
feeling by virtue of its overtones; and furthermore, it can be readily charged
at astral or mental levels with the undulations of pure thought or feeling which
are set in the same key.
983.
There are instances of decided magnetism of this kind in the vegetable
kingdom also. A good example of this is the rudraksha berry, of which necklaces
are so frequently made in India. The oscillations connected with it, especially
in its small and undeveloped state, render it specially suitable for
magnetisation where sustained holy thought or meditation is required, and where
all disturbing influences are to be kept away. The beads made from the tulsi
plant are another example, although the influence which they give is of a
somewhat different character.
984.
An interesting set of natural talismans are those objects which produce
strong scents. It has already been mentioned that incense produces a strong
effect along these lines, the gums of which it is composed being specially
chosen because the radiations which they give forth are favourable to spiritual
and devotional thought, and do not harmonise with any form of disturbance or
worry. It is possible so to combine ingredients as to make an incense which will
have the opposite effect; this was sometimes done by the mediaeval witches, and
is done to-day in Luciferian ceremonies. On the whole, it is generally desirable
to avoid coarse and heavy scents, such as that of musk or of sachet powder, as
many of them are closely in tune with sensual feelings of various kinds.
985.
An object not intentionally charged for that purpose may sometimes have
the force of a talisman. A present received from some loved one, if it be of a
nature that can be worn or carried about by the recipient, constantly serves to
him as a reminder of the donor, and often so far gives the sense of the donor' s
presence as to prevent him from doing things that he would not do if that donor
were looking on. I have heard of more than one case in which a man, wearing a
ring or a chain given to him by his mother, was thereby saved from committing
some questionable act, or indulging in some improper pleasure, because, just as
he was about to yield to the temptation, his glance fell upon the object, and
that brought to him so strongly the thought of his mother and of what she would
feel if she could see him, that he at once abandoned his project. A letter
carried about in the pocket has been known to serve the same purpose, for a man
feels: “How can I do this thing with her very letter in my pocket-- how can I
take that into surroundings where I should be ashamed that she should see me?” I
remember one case in which such a struggle ended in the man tearing up the
letter and throwing it away in order that he might be able to indulge himself;
but usually the opposite result is produced.
986.
THINGS WE CARRY ABOUT
987.
Thus it will be seen that the objects which we carry about with us in our
pockets may have decided influence upon us. A man' s watch, for example which he
has always with him, becomes strongly charged with his magnetism, and if after
wearing it for some years he gives it or lends it to another, that other person,
if he be at all sensitive, will be constantly reminded of his friend, and
conscious of a feeling as though he were present. I remember that a prominent
member of the Theosophical Society, long since dead, used often to make presents
of watches to those disciples in whom he was specially interested, charging them
strongly before he gave them with whatever quality he thought that the recipient
most needed. As his young friends naturally wore those watches, he succeeded in
several cases in effecting in them considerable changes of character.
988.
MONEY
989.
One unpleasant thing (from one point of view) which we all have to carry
about with us is money. It will naturally occur to the humorist to say at this
point that he could do with a good deal of that kind of unpleasantness. I quite
understand that point of view, and I recognise that in our present civilisation
it is desirable to possess a certain amount of filthy lucre, and even necessary
to carry at least a little of it about with one, so as to be prepared for
unexpected emergencies. Nevertheless, the fact remains that while money in the
abstract is no doubt a good thing to have if one knows how to use it wisely,
money in the concrete form of coins and notes is frequently charged with the
worst possible magnetism. New notes and new coins are harmless enough, but after
they have been in circulation for a little time they acquire not only all sorts
of physical dirt but also many varieties of influences, nearly all of them
exceedingly unpleasant.
990.
The reason for this is not difficult to understand, for the magnetism
surrounding the coin is produced by the thoughts and feelings of those who have
handled it or carried it. First and as a general principle, without taking any
special feeling into consideration, any coin which has been handled and carried
by a large number of people must inevitably be charged with a great mixture of
different kinds of magnetism. It is, therefore, from the point of view of
vibrations, a centre of discord around which all kinds of warring influence are
boiling up in the wildest confusion. The influence of such a thing as this is
disturbing and irritating, and it has, though to a much stronger degree, exactly
the same effect upon the astral and mental bodies as has the continued
bombardment of radium emanations upon the physical body.
991.
Several scientific people have discovered by painful experience that to
carry a fragment of radium in one' s waistcoat pocket presently produces a
peculiarly obstinate sore upon the skin underneath it; just like that, but
larger in proportion, is the effect produced on the higher vehicles by the
presence of a much-used coin. Copper and bronze coins are in this respect the
worst of all-- except perhaps old and dirty bank-notes. Gold and silver coins
absorb the influences which surround them, but their qualities make them
somewhat less receptive to the worst characteristics. From all this it emerges
that it is better not perpetually to have in one' s pocket more money than is
actually necessary. I have known students who partially met the difficulty by
carrying copper or bronze coins only in a purse so strongly magnetised as to be
practically impervious to the unpleasant vibrations. Many countries have
realised the unsuitability of those metals for daily use, and are adopting
nickel as a substitute; and nickel, while not so ` noble' a metal as gold or
silver, is much less receptive to evil influence than copper. A noble metal, in
alchemical parlance, is one which answers readily to the wave-lengths of the
higher thought, but is resistant towards the lower kinds.
992.
CLOTHING
993.
We come now to a subject upon which all the considerations dictated by
the sight of the higher worlds, and the additional knowledge which occultism
gives, are in direct contradiction in nearly every way to the fashions at
present prevailing in the West. In a course of researches, extending over many
years, it has happened to me to see clairvoyantly a large number of the
civilisations of the world, in all parts of it and at widely diverging periods,
and it has also come within my duty to examine the inhabitants of at least two
other planets. The various races have differed widely in customs and costumes,
but never in any of them at any time have I seen anything approaching in
hideousness the dress which is at present the fashion in Europe for males.
994.
It is supremely ugly, ungainly and unhealthy, and the only point (so far
as I can see) which can be urged in its favour is a certain measure of practical
convenience. It is tight-fitting, whereas all clothing ought to be loose. It is
made principally of materials which are from the inner point of view most
undesirable, and the only colours (or lack of colours) which custom permits are
precisely the worst that could possibly be chosen. Our outer garments are black,
or brown, or grey (and one has only to study Man Visible and Invisible
in order to see what those hues signify), or if a shade of blue is sometimes
permitted, it is so dark that one can scarcely distinguish that it is blue at
all.
995.
There are certain practical reasons for all these unpleasant features.
Our clothes are tight-fitting because we wish to be ready at any moment to
exhibit activity in running, jumping or riding. They are made of heavy woollen
materials in order to keep out the cold; and they are made in these ugly dark
colours in order to disguise the dirt which accumulates upon them after even a
single day' s wear, owing to the facts that we are not yet sufficiently
civilised to make all kinds of fires consume their own smoke, and that we have
not yet learnt to make a road that shall be free from dust and mud. If anyone
desires to know what a load of unspeakable filth he is carrying about with him,
let him take any old coat or other outside garment which he has discarded, and
wash it thoroughly in a tub of water, as underclothing is washed; the colour of
the water will be a revelation to him.
996.
From the occult point of view nothing will justify a man for existing in
such a condition of filth. Clothing which is not only washable but frequently
washed is absolutely the only kind that is permissible from the standpoint of
the thinker. I know quite well that, as things stand in Europe or America, it is
practically impossible for the most earnest student to do in this respect what
he knows he ought to do; for the slavery of custom is so absolute that a man
cannot live among his fellows unless he follows it. It is strange that this
should be so, and it is most discreditable to those nations; it absolutely
disposes of their claim to be considered liberal or free-minded people; but so
it is. Information as to what ought to be done in these matters is therefore
unfortunately useless to our Western brothers, because they simply cannot do it;
but fortunately there are other countries in the world which, though perhaps
equally under the slavery of custom along other lines, happen to have a better
custom in regard to this particular matter, and so information about it may be
of use to their inhabitants.
997.
A man dresses primarily for decency and for the sake of his own comfort;
but he ought surely also to consider the aspect which he presents to his
fellow-creatures, and even for that reason alone the superlative ugliness of our
present costume is a positive sin.
998.
I am aware then that, for the Westerner at least, I am suggesting
counsels of perfection which cannot be followed, when I say what occultism
prescribes in the matter of dress. I am not speaking of the customs of any race
or religion, or of what any man or set of men happens to approve. I am simply
prescribing what is dictated by a scientific consideration of the higher side of
life and the unseen elements which are all the time entering into it. The
prescription then is as follows:
999.
All dress should be loose and flowing, never under any circumstances
exercising pressure upon any part of the body, and no part of it which touches
the skin should ever be composed of wool or leather. How then are we to keep
ourselves warm? Well, the Chinese, who at least in the North of their country
suffer under a most appalling climate, contrive to solve the difficulty by using
garments of padded silk or cotton, something like eiderdown quilts; and it is
quite certain that it is within the resources of science to supply us with a
number of efficient substitutes for wool, if there were only a demand for them.
Old-fashioned doctors in England used to have a craze for recommending the
wearing of wool next to the skin-- the very last thing that ever ought to be
allowed to touch it; for, as has been well said by a doctor: “It is an animal
product which can never be properly cleaned; it creates unnatural heat; it
becomes felted and chokes the pores; it absorbs moisture very slowly and dries
very slowly, therefore retaining the moisture of the body; it enervates and
enfeebles the system, encourages chills and colds, and promotes rheumatism; it
often causes (and always irritates) rashes and other skin diseases; it cannot be
boiled without destroying the fabric, and it always shrinks.” From the occult
point of view the condemnation of it is even more emphatic, and includes various
other reasons.
1000.
Clothes ought to be of brilliant colours, not only for the sake of giving
pleasure to the eyes of our neighbours, but also because of the effect of the
colours upon ourselves. The present system of dressing entirely in subfusc hues
is undoubtedly productive of a vast amount of depression and stagnation of
thought, and by it we entirely lose the different effects which may be produced
upon the disposition by the wearing of different colours. When we have advanced
sufficiently for a reasonable costume to become possible, it will be of interest
to discuss the qualities of the colours, and which are most suitable for
particular types of people; at present it would be of little use.
1001.
In many oriental countries the customs in these matters are far more
rational. In Burma, for example, when lecturing on a festival day at the Great
Golden Pagoda in Rangoon, I have seen my audience stretch before me glowing like
a splendid flower-bed with variegated colours. The delicately-coloured satins
worn by the Chinese there on festive occasions produce in the glowing tropical
sunlight an effect not easy to be surpassed, and one cannot but wonder how it is
that we, who certainly belong to a later race than these people, and may not
unreasonably claim to have advanced distinctly beyond them in many of the
departments of civilisation, should yet have fallen so utterly and lamentably
behind them in this particular of dress.
1002.
The worst features of it are really quite recent. I myself can remember
in my childhood seeing a few survivals of the ordinary costume of a century ago,
when brilliant colours were still worn by gentlemen on other occasions than in
the hunting-field. It has really taken us only about a century to reach the
lowest possible level in these matters; how long will it take us to rise again
to beauty and gracefulness and dignity?
1003.
The subject of clothing leads us to bed-clothing; but there is not much
to be said upon this, save that from the occult standpoint feather-beds or thick
and heavy mattresses are always undesirable, and that if it be necessary that
wool should form part of the covering, at any rate precautions should be taken
that it does not touch the skin of the sleeper; for if at other times it is
inexpedient to bring into close contact with ourselves that which is saturated
with animal influences, and is indeed animal in its very essence, it is a
thousandfold more serious to do this when the body is asleep and so specially
amenable to such influences. A bed made of interlaced webbing, such as is
commonly used at Adyar, is one of the best from the occult point of view.
1004.
CHAPTER XVI
1005.
BY MENTAL CONDITIONS
1006.
THOUGHT-FORMS
1007.
MAN clothes himself in other worlds than this, though in a somewhat
different way. For in the astral world he draws round himself a veritable
garment of the feelings which are habitual to him, and in the mental world a
similar garment of the thoughts in which he commonly indulges. I should like to
make it thoroughly clear that in saying this I am not speaking symbolically, but
am describing an objective fact-- objective as far as those higher levels are
concerned. It has been repeatedly explained that our feelings and thoughts
generate definite forms in the matter which they respectively affect, and that
these forms follow the thoughts and feelings which made them. When those
thoughts and feelings are directed towards another person, the forms actually
move through space to that person and impinge upon his aura, and in many cases
blend themselves with it. When, however, the thoughts and feelings are
self-centred (as I fear we must admit that the majority of many people' s are)
the forms do not pass away, but remain clustering round the man who has given
birth to them.
1008.
Thus we find that every man has built for himself a shell of such
thought-forms, a veritable clothing at their level; thus all this thought and
feeling is constantly reacting upon the man himself. He gave it birth; he made
it out of himself; and now it is external to him and capable of reacting upon
him, though he knows nothing of its propinquity and its power. Floating thus
around him, the forces which it radiates seem to him to come altogether from
without, and he often regards as a temptation from some external source, a
thought which is in reality only a reflection of one of his own of yesterday or
of yesterweek. “As a man thinketh, so is he.” And this is largely because his
own thoughts are the nearest to him and are constantly playing upon him, so that
they have a better opportunity than any others to act upon him.
1009.
The constant radiations which pour forth from his thought-forms
impregnate the inanimate objects round him, so that even the walls and furniture
of his room reflect upon him the thoughts and feelings to which he is
accustomed. If a man sitting in a certain chair in a certain room devotes
himself for many days to some train or type of thought, he fills the surrounding
objects, the chair, the desk, the very walls of the room, with vibrations which
express that type of thought. He unconsciously magnetises these physical
objects, so that they possess the power of suggesting thoughts of the same type
to any other person who puts himself in the way of their influence. Many
striking instances of this may be found among the collections of stories which
refer to such matters. I have already given one of a number of persons
committing suicide, one after another, in the same prison-cell, because the
place was reeking with that idea, and they felt it acting upon them as a force
from without, which they thought themselves compelled to obey.
1010.
From these considerations emerge two main ideas on the subject of our
feelings, which at first sight appear absolutely contradictory: first, that we
must be most careful about our feelings; secondly, that they do not matter at
all. But when we come to seek for the explanation of this apparent
contradiction, we see that it lies in the fact that we are not using the word `
feelings' in quite the same sense in the two statements. We must be careful what
feelings we allow to arise within us; we need pay no attention to the feelings
which press upon us from outside. True; but in the first case we mean original
feelings-- thought -feelings which emanate from our own minds; in the
second case we mean moods, which come without any volition on our part. These
latter we can afford to disregard utterly. The mood is the result of our thought
of yesterday, and we cannot alter that thought or affect it in any way; our
business is with the original thought of to-day, for that thought is within our
control, and when it suggests itself we can receive it and adopt it, or we can
reject it. And the same is true with our feelings. You say you cannot help your
feelings; that is what the ordinary uncomprehending person thinks, but it is not
in the least true. You can help them and control them if you will.
1011.
MOODS
1012.
We have all had the experience of feeling moods of different sorts coming
over us. On one occasion we feel joyful without knowing why, and on another
occasion depressed and pessimistic. There may be many reasons for this latter
feeling; indigestion in some shape or other is the commonest. It comes often,
too, from lack of exercise, lack of sunlight, lack of open air; and too much
night-work; but also sometimes it is simply the reaction upon us of previous
thoughts of our own-- and sometimes of the previous thoughts of someone else. It
may be due to the presence of an astral entity who is in a condition of
depression, and contrives to communicate his vibration to our astral bodies. But
whatever may be its cause, the depression must be thrown aside, and we must
endeavour to go on with our work precisely as though it did not exist.
1013.
This is largely a matter of feeling, and that makes it difficult to take
a coldly scientific view of it; yet it is precisely that which we must endeavour
to do. These moods of ours make no difference whatever to the facts of life. Why
therefore should we allow them to influence us? Our future destiny lies before
us, and is entirely unaffected by the fact that we take at one time an
optimistic and at another a pessimistic view of it. Why then should we allow
ourselves to be worried to-day merely because we were worried yesterday, or
because some astral entity feels worried? The hidden side of all these moods
shows them to come from various causes; but it also shows us clearly that,
whatever the causes may be, our duty is to go on with our work, and pay
absolutely no attention to them.
1014.
RECURRENT THOUGHTS
1015.
In yet another way, too, we must carefully watch the action of recurring
thoughts. What at first was merely an unfounded suspicion-- perhaps an unworthy
suspicion-- may presently solidify itself into a prejudice; not because there is
any additional evidence for it, but simply by virtue of its own recurrence. We
adopt, often without due reason, a certain attitude towards some person or
thing, and then, merely because we have taken it up, we persist in it; and even
though we may be quite aware that at first it was nothing but the merest
suspicion, by virtue of having thought it over and over again we believe it to
be well-founded, and proceed to reason from it as though it were a fact. Thus
often prejudices are born, and we have already explained that prejudices are
fatal to progress.
1016.
Again, this reaction of thought-forms tends to set up in us certain
qualities. Many a man has begun by being, quite rightly, careful as to the
expenditure of his money; but the anxious thought which he has devoted to the
consideration as to how he should economise has reacted upon him again and again
until it has become the dominant idea in his mind-- until it has generated
within him the quality of avarice. It is not only inward upon its maker that the
thought-form pours its influence; it is also radiating outwards. And the effect
of that outward vibration is to attract other similar thought-forms which
strengthen the action of the original. It is therefore necessary for us to be on
our guard in these matters, to watch carefully the thoughts and feelings which
arise within us, and to distinguish between those which come from above, from
the ego, and those which merely flow in at lower levels.
1017.
FALLING IN LOVE
1018.
Another instance of the repeated action of a thought-form is what is
commonly called falling in love. Of this there are at least two clearly marked
varieties, which are commonly defined by novelists as “gradually growing into
love” and as “falling in love at first sight”. This latter phenomenon (if it
ever really occurs, as I am inclined to think that it does) must mean the
recognition by the ego of one who was well known in previous incarnations; but
the former and more ordinary variety is usually due to the intensified action of
repeated thought.
1019.
To speak with any degree of common sense on this subject is likely to
render one unpopular, because each man regards his lady-love as the only woman
in the world who is really an epitome of all the virtues, and is prepared to
maintain that proposition at the sword-point if necessary. Yet if it were
possible for him to take an unimpassioned and reasonable view of the matter
(which of course it is not), he would have to admit that, while she is all this
to him, there are other ladies in the world who appear to occupy the
same position in the minds of other people-- people who are, in the abstract,
just as intelligent and as capable of forming an opinion on such a matter as he
himself is.
1020.
Why then, where there is no question of a tie formed in a previous
incarnation, should he select a certain young woman out of all the rest of the
world, to be for him an embodiment of all that is noble and beautiful? The truth
is unromantic; it is largely a question of propinquity. The normal young man,
thrown by circumstances into close relations with the normal young woman, is
likely to fall in love with her; and though be would never believe it, if he had
been thrown into similar intimate relations with any one of a hundred other
equally normal young women, he would have fallen in love with that other just as
easily!
1021.
In the first place a young lady makes upon him an agreeable passing
impression; if he did not meet her again, it is probable that after a few days
he would cease to think of her; but if he sees her often, his thought-form of
her becomes strengthened and he begins, though he does not know it, to see more
deeply into her than he did at first. And this process continues until he learns
to see in her the divine reality which lies behind us all. It lies behind all
equally, but he has learnt to see it only in her, and therefore for him it takes
her form; and when once he has seen it through that form, to him at any rate it
can take no other. And so he dowers her in his imagination with all sorts of
virtues and all splendid qualities-- which are in her, as they are in
us all, yet may not be manifested through her to other eyes than his. They are
in her, because her ego, like all others, is a spark of the Divine Fire; and in
Him these qualities inhere and exist in perfection. The manifestation of them in
this physical world may be no greater in her than in a hundred others, but he
sees them in her because it was through her that he first learnt to realise them
at all.
1022.
And so in truth, from the occultist' s point of view the rhapsodies of
thousands of lovers about the respective objects of their adoration are all
true, even though they seem mutually exclusive; for the truth is that that which
they all love is One, though for each It manifests through a different vehicle,
and because they with their partial vision cannot separate the One from Its
manifestation, they endow that special manifestation with qualities which belong
not to it but to That which shines through. So all are right in the qualities
which they see, and wrong only in claiming exclusive manifestation through the
form through which they have learnt to see them.
1023.
Often the impartial outsider finds it difficult to understand, looking at
it from the point of view of the physical world, what a certain man saw in a
certain woman to induce him to desire to make her his wife. The answer is that
the husband saw in her something which is not visible on the physical level;
something which is to be discerned only by looking much deeper than that, and
his attraction to her was that it was through her that that aspect of the Divine
was revealed to him.
1024.
People often say that the lover' s imagination gives to his prospective
bride qualities which in truth she does not possess. The occultist would say
that the lover is right; she does possess them, because God, of whom she is a
part, possesses them. And for her lover she is a channel through which he can
see Him. But others for whom she is not the channel cannot see those qualities
through her, but may at the same time be seeing them through someone else.
1025.
One great advantage of this is that, if the woman be a good woman, she
tries to live up to the level of her lover' s thought-form of her. She is fully
conscious that he is idealising her, that he endows her with qualities which she
does not believe herself to possess; but in order that he may not be
disappointed, in order that she may be worthy of his love and trust, she tries
hard to develop these qualities in herself-- to be what he thinks her to be. And
because in essence she is what he thinks her, because in the Monad
behind her those qualities do exist, she is often successful, at least
to some extent, in bringing them down into manifestation, and thus the
confidence of the lover is justified, and his faith in her brings forth her
higher self and helps her on the path of evolution.
1026.
All this, be it observed, works both ways, and the woman tries to find
her ideal through a man just as does a man through a woman. The human being as
at present constituted usually finds his ideal most readily through some one of
the opposite sex, but this is not invariably so. Sometimes a younger man adores
an elder one, and through his admiration and affection for him obtains his
glimpse of that true world which we call the ideal; and sometimes the same
feeling exists between a younger woman and an experienced matron.
1027.
Since that real ideal is behind us all alike, the mystic who lives
wrapped in solitary contemplation may find it just as perfectly within himself.
It is the tendency of every man to seek it, whether through his own self or
through another, and the feeling which moves him to seek it is the divinely
implanted force of evolution, the desire to find and to return to the Divine
from whom we came. For the force which at this early stage can only manifest
itself in this way is the very same that later on will bring the man to final
union. As Saint Augustine beautifully put it: “God, Thou hast made us for
Thyself, and our hearts are ever restless till they find their rest in Thee.”
1028.
UNSET BLOSSOM
1029.
A beautiful variant of this, which is often misunderstood, is the
“falling in love” of children. Unsympathetic adults often ridicule it, because
they know that in nine cases out of ten its object is quite unsuitable, it does
not last, and it comes to nothing. All that is true, yet in essence it is the
same feeling as that which comes in later life, and it is usually a far purer
and more unselfish form of it. If you could penetrate the secret heart of a
young lover of ten or twelve, you would find that often he does not even dream
of marrying his prospective bride and settling down comfortably to be happy for
ever after; his idea is rather to sacrifice himself for her, to exhibit splendid
heroism in her defence, and die at her feet. Absurdly romantic, no doubt, yet
not without its good effect upon that young heart-- indeed, upon both the young
hearts concerned.
1030.
To pour out such thought-forms as these is indeed well, both for their
creator and their recipient, and they are preparing both for the maturer but not
more beautiful feeling which comes in later life. Have you ever seen the vast
amount of unset blossom on our cherry-trees or plum-trees? One might think of
all that as a useless waste of Nature' s energy, because it never comes to
fruit. Yet the botanist tells us that it is by no means useless-- that it has an
important purpose to serve in drawing up the sap and thereby strengthening the
tree, and so preparing the way for finer fruit in the autumn than could have
existed without it. These innocent young love-affairs of childhood have
precisely the same effect; they strengthen the nature and prepare it for the
fuller development which comes later.
1031.
OCCULTISM AND MARRIAGE
1032.
Yet in spite of all that I have said above-- in spite of the beauty and
exaltation of the love affair-- can we from the point of view of occultism
advise our students to marry? I think the best answer is to be found in the
words of our great founder, Madame Blavatsky:
1033.
It depends on the kind of man you mean. If you refer to one who intends
to live in the world-- one who, even though a good, earnest Theosophist
and an ardent worker for our cause, still has ties and wishes which bind him to
the world-- who, in short, does not feel that he has done for ever with what men
call life, and that he desires one thing and one thing only-- to know the truth,
and to be able to help others-- then for such a one I say there is no reason why
he should not marry, if he likes to take the risk of that lottery where there
are so many more blanks than prizes. ( The Key to Theosophy, Section
xiii, “Theosophy and Marriage”.)
1034.
But if the man means to be more than this, if he intends to devote his
whole life to Theosophical work, and aspires to become a pupil of one of the
great Masters of the Wisdom, then we cannot advise him to divide his attention
between that world and this. Again Madame Blavatsky tells us:
1035.
Practical occultism is far too serious and dangerous a study for a man to
take up, unless he is in the most deadly earnest, and ready to sacrifice all
, himself first of all , to gain his end. I am only referring to those
who are determined to tread the path of discipleship which leads to the highest
goal. ( Ibid., Section xiii. )
1036.
There is nothing to prevent a man from loving his ideal as much as he
will; the mistake is in the desire for sole possession, in the animal passion
which prevents him from being satisfied to worship at a distance, in the
jealousy which is annoyed that others should love and worship also. The student
who wishes to devote himself even to the uttermost must keep himself free from
all entanglement-- free for the work; and let him not, as has been the case with
many, be deceived by the specious reasoning of his passion, and fall under the
delusion that he can work better in chains. But, remember once more, this is
only for the man who is absolutely determined to go on to the end. Short of such
high resolve, there is a vast amount of good work that may be done-- and even of
progress that may be made-- by taking advantage of the troubles and trials of
the ordinary worldly life, and endeavouring to live one' s highest, even though
it be in chains.
1037.
Another excuse which is sometimes put forward is that it is necessary
that bodies should be provided for the high-class in-coming egos who will be
needed to do the work; it is argued that students can surely provide these
better than the good people of the outer world. This is probably so, and
therefore in certain rare cases students have been ordered to marry for this
very purpose; but it is surely wisest to wait for such an order from a source
that cannot be questioned. Meanwhile we have plenty of good married members who
are perfectly capable of providing bodies for the occult workers of the future.
Truly there can be no greater honour than to be selected by the karmic Deities
to provide those, except the still greater honour of training them when they are
provided. Let it be the work then of the student who still retains his ties with
the world to provide those bodies, and let those who feel themselves capable of
the higher life help in their training. For verily no man can serve two masters,
and the path of occultism demands the whole energies of body, soul and spirit.
1038.
CHANGES IN CONSCIOUSNESS
1039.
The human consciousness has wonderful possibilities, and what we commonly
call by that name is only the fragment of it which we can use for the moment. We
may perhaps take an analogy from the action of our physical senses. There is an
enormous gamut of possible vibrations. One little group of those at a certain
level appeals to us as light; another little group at a much lower level appeals
to us as sound. We are conscious in various ways of other intermediate groups.
But we are fully aware from our knowledge of science that the gamut extends at
both ends far beyond our possibilities of dealing with it.
1040.
We may suppose the human consciousness to be like that gamut, and the
part of it now in action in the physical brain to correspond, let us say, to the
block of oscillations which we call sound. Following out the same analogy, we
might suppose our block of astral consciousness to be equivalent to the
wave-lengths which we call light; but here again there are many undulations
capable of carrying light which we cannot see-- undulations both below and above
our limit of vision. In just the same way, below our physical consciousness and
above it, and below our astral consciousness and above that, are further sets of
vibrations to which our consciousness might be adapted, but is not.
1041.
There are two ways in which it can be adapted; permanently and
intentionally, by the development of that consciousness so that it can receive
more of those waves which are above and below its normal possibilities; or
temporarily, by some disease or abnormality which shifts our octave of
consciousness either upwards or downwards. An example of the first way is the
development of psychic powers of all sorts. But it is unnecessary for me to take
up the consideration of those here, as I have already done it in other books--
Clairvoyance, The Other Side of Death and Some Glimpses of
Occultism. Various drugs have the power of temporarily changing or widening
the scope of consciousness, and therefore they enable us to see things normally
unseen by us, sometimes at the sacrifice of our ordinary power of vision for the
time, and sometimes without robbing us of that.
1042.
What we call our physical consciousness is not a fixed and determinate
amount which has always been the same. It has gradually grown to be what it is,
and many things which were formerly within its purview have now passed below
it-- or more accurately, it has so developed itself as to rise above them. Its
level is gradually rising; our descendants will be able to see colours which at
present are invisible to us-- higher, purer and more delicate colours. Whether
they will at the same time lose the possibility of appreciating some of the
coarsest of the colours which we now know, is uncertain.
1043.
Delirium shifts the place of this consciousness, and often altogether
shuts out from us the everyday world which we know, giving us sometimes in its
place memories of our past-- not only of the past of this life but of the
longer-forgotten part of the human race. Such sight as delirium gives often
includes the power to see the sufferer' s own thought-forms, or those of others,
and sometimes also to see the astral and etheric creatures which are around him.
In the case of delirium-tremens, for example, the snakes and other horrors are
almost invariably creatures of low type which are feasting upon the fumes of
alcohol exuding from the body of the drunkard.
1044.
CHAPTER XVII
1045.
BY OUR AMUSEMENTS
1046.
CHILDREN' S GAMES
1047.
THERE is a hidden side even to a thing usually considered so unimportant
as the games of children. If the parents think of these at all, it is probably
chiefly from the physical point of view. They either disapprove of games in a
general way as causing destruction of clothes or enticing the boy away from his
school work, or they grant them a qualified approval as at any rate keeping the
boy out of their way for a certain number of hours, or as affording him physical
exercise which they recognise as a necessity for the development of his body.
Sometimes also they are particular as to his associations from a social point of
view, and occasionally also from a religious or moral standpoint; but it is
probable that most parents regard play as a sort of necessary evil.
1048.
They do not in the least realise that a game, if played as all games
ought to be, is a lesson whose value can hardly be overestimated, for it
inculcates as nothing else can the virtues of honour, unselfishness and
chivalry. Honour first, because of the necessity of abiding with uttermost
loyalty by the rules of the game, because of the realisation that a seeming
success gained by an infringement of them, no matter how slight, would be
dishonestly gained, and so would be no success at all, but the deepest disgrace,
whether the delinquency were known to others or only seared into the memory of
the culprit himself. Unselfishness, because for success in many games it is
absolutely necessary that the unit shall be subordinated to the whole, and that
each player shall seek not his own glorification, but the benefit of the side
upon which he plays. No one who watches the instant, unhesitating obedience so
willingly given in any good school to the captain of an eleven at cricket, or to
the coach of a boat' s crew, can fail to perceive that this is a most valuable
discipline, teaching each to accept loyally and to perform thoroughly the duty
assigned to him, looking to the good of the club rather than to his personal
desires. Chivalry, because of the rule, invariable among all gentlemanly boys,
of giving the opponent the benefit of any doubtful point, and of declining to
profit by an accidental advantage. Evil indeed is it for a country when such
honour, such unselfishness, such chivalry are not to be found among its
children, for the child is father to the man, and as the twig is bent so the
tree inclines.
1049.
The great thing to impress upon the child is that though he must always
do his best for his own side, in reality it does not matter who wins, as the
exercise obtained and the pleasure of the game are the same in any case. It
should be explained to him that he must act not only fairly, but also graciously
and hospitably in his play; that he must always be ready to applaud good play on
the other side, that he must never exult over those who are defeated, but must
always endeavour to find excuses for them and minimise the disappointment which
they will naturally feel.
1050.
True, others will not always do this for him, but he need not be
in any way disturbed or annoyed by that, since it simply shows that they have
not yet reached the level at which they can put themselves mentally in the place
of their opponents. It is natural that a boy should take pleasure in the victory
of his school or his side, but he must learn not so to show that pleasure as to
hurt in any way the feelings of another.
1051.
Never for a moment must he find pleasure or amusement in anything that
hurts or annoys another living creature, whether it be a school-fellow or an
animal. The tendency which some ill-taught children show to tease an animal or
another child is a manifestation of cruelty, and it must be explained to the
child that cruelty of any sort is one of the worst of crimes. The child must
remember always to put himself in thought in the place of the other, and so to
manifest the uttermost brotherhood, kindliness and love, to be willing always to
put aside what he wants in order to give pleasure to other children, and to do
what they like.
1052.
I noticed an interesting example of chivalry some time ago when attending
the College boat-races at one of our great Universities. A certain College had
held unquestioned for some years the chief place in aquatic affairs, but on this
occasion another College succeeded in gaining several places and finally
attained the coveted position of Head of the River, defeating its previous
holders. Naturally there was great rejoicing, and a triumphal procession was
formed in which not only the banner of the winning boat, but also its oars and
rudder were carried home in exultant ovation. In their jubilant march the crowd
of undergraduates of the victorious College had to pass along the river and in
front of the long line of boat-houses, and suddenly I observed that the cheering
mob fell silent, furled its flag and lowered its oars and obviously endeavoured
to efface itself and hastily assume as unobtrusive a demeanour as possible.
Asking what was the matter, I was told that they were approaching the boat-house
of the College which had so long held supremacy, and that it would of course be
in bad taste to seem to glory over them by parading the conquest before them.
Therefore our victors for the time tried to look as much as possible like
ordinary students going quietly home; but their magnanimous attempt was at least
partially defeated, for before they could steal past they were observed by the
defeated crew and their fellow-members, who immediately rushed out from their
boat-house to cheer them lustily, while the captain of the defeated boat ran to
the great flagstaff of the boat-house and hauled down his College flag in token
of cheerful submission to fate. As a spontaneous expression of good feeling on
the part of these young fellows just fresh from school, this pleased me greatly,
and I could not but see that the public opinion among them was a healthy and
enviable one.
1053.
SPORT
1054.
Unfortunately the amusements of adults are not always as harmless and
wholesome as those of children. There is nothing to be said against cricket or
golf; and rowing and swimming are always admirable, as bringing the etheric,
astral and mental bodies into closer contact with the nature-spirits of the
water and their influences, which make an agreeable contrast with those to be
found upon land. Still more is this true if the swimming is done in the sea, for
the variety there is greater. Such change of impressions is always good, as it
sets in vibration new parts of the various bodies, and so adds greatly to their
general health.
1055.
But it is impossible to reprobate too strongly the revolting cruelty that
is sometimes misnamed sport. Needless to say, the crime connected with the
murder of defenceless animals far outweighs any benefit that may be incidentally
derived from fresh air and exercise. The whole thing is horrible beyond words,
and it is difficult to understand how it is possible for civilised and otherwise
kind-hearted people to take part in such abomination-- and not only to take part
in them, but even apparently to enjoy the bloodshed and the cruelty, and to vie
with one another in the diabolical work of destruction. No country in which such
things happen can claim to be really civilised, and we cannot doubt that when
our descendants look back on this period they will find it incredible that we
actually indulged in such wholesale and gratuitous barbarities.
1056.
All forms of hunting incur similar reprobation. Even apart from the pain,
misery and death inflicted upon the fox, the deer, the hare, or the otter, there
is the whole question of the wickedness incurred in the training of dogs for
such purposes. The dog is one of the domestic animals which are given into man'
s care in order that he may advance their evolution. He does not help it, but
fatally hinders it, when he trains the animal to be more ferocious than the wolf
or the tiger-- when he teaches it to kill not for food, as do the wild beasts,
but for the mere lust and pleasure of killing. This wanton destruction of the
wonderful gift of life, “which all can take but none can give,” will surely
bring a heavy retribution on the individuals who take part in it, and on the
country whose public opinion permits it.
1057.
One terrible thing connected with this is that our children imitate our
thoughtless cruelty, and so young souls who would naturally be kind and helpful
are led into the commission of these crimes. We can hardly wonder that a boy
fishes or hunts, or sets his dog to kill some living creature, when he
constantly sees his father doing the same thing. We so engrain cruelty into the
young that even after their death it persists in the astral world, and we find
the same tendency in the dead boy as in the living-- to hunt something about,
and to cause it pain and terror. True, unless the shameful example set before
him has made him thoroughly wicked, it is easier in the astral world to invoke
the boy' s good feelings than it is on the physical, because there we can show
him in a moment exactly what is the real sensation of the hunted creature, for
it is apparent in changings and flashings of colour. So we can appeal directly
to the boy' s better nature by showing him precisely what he has been doing. In
the astral world we have also the advantage that we can deflect the cruel
hunting instinct and the passion for destruction into the safe and useful
channel of breaking up horrible thought-forms, such as those of devils, which
are made by the unfortunate people who suffer under the curse of Calvinistic or
similarly blasphemous religious teaching. These thought-forms, though not
dangerous when understood, are often a source of great terror to the ignorant,
and as they have no real evolving life in them, there is no sin involved in
destroying them. Such work develops both chivalry and courage in the boy,
inducing him to go about as a knight-errant, helping and protecting the weak,
and facing for their sake what appear to him the most formidable odds.
1058.
FISHING
1059.
Fishing is another manifestation of the lust for slaughter, and many
people indulge in this who would recoil from other forms of enjoyment in which
the bloodshed is more obvious, for here, instead of killing or crippling a bird
by a shot, they only take the creature out of its element and leave it to die
slowly by suffocation. Difficult though it is to understand how it can be so, I
really believe that most of this atrocious cruelty is simple thoughtlessness,
and the baneful effect of the collective thought-forms clustering round a custom
which has come down to us from the barbarous times of the Dark Ages.
1060.
HORSE-RACING
1061.
Horse-racing, again, is another so-called sport for which there can be
nothing but condemnation. The mere running of horses against one another, if
they are not struck or otherwise ill-treated, is no more objectionable than a
race between boys, or men; but as matters stand now, the whole mass of ideas
which cluster round the turf is objectionable to the highest degree, and from
the occult point of view the atmosphere of a race-course is a veritable hell.
All the cheating and trickery, all the mad anxiety and avarice, all the hatred
and deliberate falsehood, make the whole scene an indescribable nightmare of
horrors. Yet decent men will show themselves in such a place and, even worse
still, will subject their wives and daughters to its appallingly evil magnetism.
Ignorance again, of course, and thoughtlessness; in intention nothing worse than
that; but the results are serious nevertheless.
1062.
GAMBLING
1063.
Everyone who takes part in horse-racing has his share of the
responsibility of all the wickedness of the gambling connected with it, and of
the ruin to thousands which it brings in its train. Even on the physical level
the evils of gambling and of betting are surely obvious enough; but with the
added sight of higher worlds they are a hundred times more objectionable. Men
plunge into this foolishness presumably for excitement; but this is a form of
excitement which arouses all the worst passions of men, and can do nothing but
harm to them, for the moral effect on the man who wins is usually at least as
evil as upon him who loses.
1064.
Readers of Thought-Forms will remember the awful pictures there
given of the thought-forms of the winner and of the loser; those who can see
such things for themselves will need no one to inform them of the evils of
gambling. It can never be anything but evil in any of its forms; but, if one
must pronounce between them, the kind which is pursued at the notorious Casino
of Monte Carlo is decidedly the less objectionable of the two, for there the
gambling is at least fair, and the victim knows his chances beforehand; also, he
wins or loses to an impersonal entity-- the bank, and, so does not obviously and
intentionally ruin his fellow-men.
1065.
From the occult point of view, betting, alcohol-drinking, corpse-eating
and the slaughter of living creatures in sport, are the great blots upon the
fair fame of the English nation. If those could be removed we should have made
several long steps on the way towards civilisation.
1066.
Although occultism has nothing but unequivocal condemnation for all forms
of so-called sport, which in any way whatever injure any living creature, it has
not a vestige of the puritan point of view that everything which gives pleasure
is necessarily wrong. On the contrary, the promotion of pleasure ranks in the
mind of the occultist next to the promotion of progress. It is good to give
pleasure to anyone; it is far better still to help him on the path of progress;
but it is best of all when it is possible to combine the two. So the occultist
welcomes harmless amusement; his only proviso is that it shall be
harmless-- that it shall not involve pain or suffering or even discomfort or
ridicule for any living being.
1067.
THE THEATRE
1068.
The hidden side of a performance at the theatre depends entirely upon the
nature of the performance. The passions portrayed by the actors, not being in
any sense real, produce practically no effect on higher matter, but
unfortunately there seems to be not infrequently a great deal of conceit
connected with acting, and a great deal of jealousy of other actors. So far as
these exist they represent undesirable influences. The principal effect to be
seen at a theatre is the result of the feelings excited in the audience, and
these again depend upon the character of the play.
1069.
There seems almost always to be an undercurrent of sensuality directed
towards the principal actresses, but the people who make-up the majority of the
audience usually follow the plot of the play and feel a mild amount of hatred
for the villain and a sort of gentle pleasure when the hero succeeds in
over-throwing his machinations. There are some ingenuous people who really throw
themselves heart and soul into the play-- to whom it is for the time exactly
like real life. These send out strong emotions of various kinds as the play
progresses, but usually their number is not sufficient to count for much in the
general aura of the theatre. There are unfortunately many modern plays which are
in themselves of a highly objectionable nature, and the thought-forms of those
who patronise them are naturally unpleasant in character.
1070.
One may sum up the matter by saying that to many people a visit to the
theatre is like the reading of a novel, but it presents the different characters
to them in a manner which makes them more real to them. There are others, on the
other hand (perhaps more imaginative people), who when they read a story make
for themselves thought-forms of all the characters, and these forms seem to them
far more vivid and suitable than any representation in the theatre can be. Such
people are always disappointed when they go to see a dramatised representation
of one of their favourite stories.
1071.
Others who have not the power of imagination to clothe the characters
with definite forms for themselves are very glad to have this done for them by
the dramatist' s art. For these-- and they are the majority of theatre-goers-- a
visit to the theatre is no more harmful than the reading of a novel, except for
the necessary unpleasant surroundings-- the tinge of sensuality in the audience,
and of conceit and jealousy in the actors, to which I have previously referred,
and the spending of a couple of hours in a vitiated atmosphere and in the midst
of a more or less excited crowd. From the occult point of view these latter
considerations usually rather outweigh the advantage of any possible enjoyment
that may be obtained from the performance.
1072.
FOURTH SECTION
1073.
HOW WE INFLUENCE OTHERS
1074.
CHAPTER XVIII
1075.
BY WHAT WE ARE
1076.
THE INTERRELATION OF MEN
1077.
WE have been examining the influences to which we are liable, and we have
also considered how, by reactions which we do not notice, we are constantly
influencing ourselves. Now we come to the third great branch of our subject, the
question of how we influence others. What has been already said is sufficient to
show us that invariably we must influence them, whether we wish to do so or not;
for if, as we have already seen, all these varied influences are constantly
playing upon and affecting us, it is quite clear that what we do in our turn
must be part of the influence which is acting on those near us. We are all so
closely interrelated that no man can live his life to himself alone, and every
thought or action is producing its result on others-- not only because people
see our actions in the physical world and imitate them, but because they are
affected by the unseen radiation of the vibrations of our thoughts and feelings.
1078.
We influence people in three ways: by what we are; by what we think and
desire; by what we say and do.
1079.
First by what we are; because what we are expresses itself in our various
vehicles, and they are constantly pouring out waves of influence which tend to
reproduce themselves-- that is, to infect other people. So whatever we wish
other people to be, we ourselves must be first of all. What then is the idea
which we should set before ourselves in this matter? Many would say “To be
good,” and of course that is the first consideration; but surely we may take
that for granted. Anyone who has got so far as even to think about the duty of
influencing the world, must by the hypothesis be trying his best to live a good
life. Let us then assume the good intention and the earnest endeavour, and let
us see what we can do to improve the world around us by our example. I think the
first point is the duty of happiness and peace.
1080.
THE DUTY OF HAPPINESS
1081.
Let us take happiness first. Unquestionably the Deity means man to be
happy. Happiness is a duty; I do not mean merely philosophical calm, though
assuredly that is a good thing; I mean active happiness. It is a duty, not only
to the Divine Power and to ourselves, but also to others, as I shall presently
show; and it is a duty not difficult of accomplishment, if we will only exercise
the inestimable faculty of common sense. Yet the majority of men and women are
obviously often unhappy; why?
1082.
Unhappiness is a mental condition, so the suffering which comes from
sickness or accident is not strictly part of our subject, yet there is often a
mental side even to that, which may be greatly minimised by the application of
reason. Eternal Justice rules the world, and therefore nothing can, by any
possibility, happen to us that we have not deserved; and as that eternal Justice
is also eternal Love, everything that happens to us is intended to help us
forward in our development, and is capable of doing so, if we will only take it
in the right way and try to learn the lesson which it is meant to teach. Since
this is true-- and those who have probed most deeply into the mysteries of life
and death know that it is-- to grumble or to repine at suffering is manifestly
not only to waste much force uselessly, but also to take an entirely inaccurate
and foolish view of life, and to lose what is designed as an opportunity.
1083.
Let us consider some of the more frequent causes of this prevalent
unhappiness, in order to see how it can be avoided. Man has displayed exceeding
ingenuity in inverting reasons for being miserable, but most of them can be
classed under one or other of four heads-- desire, regret, fear and worry.
1084.
Desire -- Much unhappiness arises because people are perpetually
yearning for what they have not-- for riches, for fame, for power, for social
position, for success in all sorts of undertakings. I do not forget that
contentment may sometimes denote stagnation, and that what has been called
“divine discontent” is a prerequisite to progress. That we should unceasingly
endeavour to improve ourselves, to better our position, to augment our power of
helpfulness to others-- all this is good and estimable, and tends to our
evolution; but most of our discontent is anything but divine, because it is not
a desire for improvement and usefulness, but rather a mere selfish craving for
the personal enjoyment that we expect to derive from riches or from the exercise
of power; and that is why so much misery results from it. Press forward, indeed,
as ardently as you will; but be happy in your pressing, be cheery under failure,
and never be too busy to hold out a helping hand to your fellow-pilgrim.
1085.
Among the most poisonous of the manifold forms of this great weed desire,
are those called envy and jealousy. If men would only learn to mind their own
business and leave other people alone, many fertile sources of unhappiness would
disappear. What is it to you that another man has more money or a larger house,
that he keeps more servants or owns better horses, or that his wife is able to
indulge in more astonishing vagaries of millinery and dressmaking? All these
things afford him a certain kind of opportunity-- a test of his capacity for
using them aright; he may be succeeding or he may be failing, but in any case
you are not his judge, and your business is clearly not to waste your time in
criticising and envying him, but to be quite sure that you yourself are
fulfilling to the uttermost the duties which appertain to your own state of
life.
1086.
Perhaps of all the passions which poor human nature cherishes, jealousy
is the most ridiculous. It pretends to love fervently, and yet objects that any
other should share its devotion; whereas unselfish affection but rejoices the
more when it finds the object of its adoration universally appreciated. Jealousy
loathes, above all things, to see evidence of the fondness of for its idol, and
yet it is always eagerly watching for confirmation of its suspicions, and will
take any amount of trouble to prove to itself the existence of what most it
hates! See then how much utterly unnecessary unhappiness is escaped by the man
who is strong enough and sensible enough to mind his own business, and refuses
absolutely to be drawn into the meshes either of envy or jealousy.
1087.
Curb desire and cultivate contentment; let your wants be few and simple
and your ambitions for progress and usefulness rather than for possessions; and
you will find that you have eliminated one of the most fruitful and potent
causes of misery.
1088.
Regret -- It is pitiable to think how many thousands every day
are suffering needless, hopeless, useless agonies of regret. You had money
perhaps, and it is gone; you had a position, and you have lost it. That is no
reason why you should squander your strength and your time in unavailing
lamentation. Start at once to earn more money, to make for yourself another
position. “Let the dead past bury its dead,” and turn your thought to the
future.
1089.
Yes, and this is true even though the loss has been caused by your own
fault, even though that which you regret be a sin. You may have failed, as many
a man before you has failed, but you have no time to waste in remorse. If you
have fallen, do not lie mourning in the mud, but get up at once, and go on your
way more circumspectly. Set your face forward, and push resolutely ahead. If you
fall a thousand times-- well, get up a thousand times and go on again; it is
absolutely useless to sink discouraged by the way. There is just as much reason
for the thousandth attempt as there was for the first, and if you persevere
success is certain, for your strength grows by repeated effort. A Master once
said: “The only repentance which is of the slightest value is determination not
to commit the same sin again.” The wise man is not he who never makes mistakes,
but he who never makes the same mistake twice.
1090.
The greatest of all regrets, I know full well, is that for “the touch of
a vanished hand, and the sound of a voice that is still”. Yet even that most
sacred of sorrows may be dispelled, if we are willing to take the trouble to
understand. When those whom we love pass from the sight of our physical eyes, we
are no longer left gazing at a blank wall, clinging with desperate faith to
nebulous uncertainty, hoping against hope for some far distant reunion, as were
so many of our forefathers.
1091.
Science now treads where ignorance once resigned, and anyone who is ready
to examine the available evidence may convince himself that death is but the
stepping from one room into another, the gate of a higher and fuller life, and
that we have not in any sense lost our friends, as we so often
erroneously say, but have only lost for the time the power to see them. A little
patient study of the facts soon enables us to turn from a selfish contemplation
of this illusion of our bereavement to the glorious certainty which opens out
before those who are so much dearer to us than ourselves; and thus one of the
saddest of all forms of unhappiness is at least greatly mitigated, even when not
entirely removed.
1092.
Fear -- I suppose that only those who, like some of the clergy,
have had special opportunities of knowing the inner side of men' s lives, can be
aware of the extent to which humanity suffers from the fear of death. Many a man
who shows a brave front to the world, and laughs and smiles with the best, is
yet groaning inwardly all the while under the oppression of a secret horror,
knowing that death must come, dreading lest the sword should fall. Yet all this
is quite unnecessary, and comes only from ignorance, as indeed does all fear;
for those who comprehend death feel no dismay at its approach.
They know that man does not die, but simply lays aside his
body as one lays aside a worn-out suit of clothes; and to them one process is no
more terrible than the other. The man who in this twentieth century does not yet
know the facts about death, is merely the man who has not taken the pains to
look into the matter, and if he suffers from fear of that which does not exist,
he has only himself to blame.
1093.
Many are haunted by the apprehension of loss of property, of lapsing into
poverty. There are thousands who just manage to live upon such income as they
can earn, but they feel that if through sickness or from any other cause
supplies should fail them, they would at once be plunged into direct distress.
Even when this danger is real, nothing is gained by brooding over it; this
ever-present anxiety in no way helps them; they are no whit the safer because
this terror hovers over them and darkens all their day.
1094.
These poor souls also should try to understand life, to grasp the purport
of this great scheme of evolution of which they find themselves a part; for when
once they comprehend a little of its plan they will realise that nothing comes
by chance, but that truly all things work together for good, and so pain and
trouble and sorrow cannot come unless they are needed, unless they have their
part to play in the development that is to be. So they will look forward with
hope instead of with fear, knowing that if they loyally do the best they can
with each day as it passes, they will have nothing wherewith to reproach
themselves, whatever the future may bring forth.
1095.
Worry -- The same considerations show us the futility of worry
and grumbling. If the world be in God' s hands, and if we are all working under
His immutable laws, manifestly our business is to do our duty in our corner, and
to try to move intelligently along with the mighty stream of advancement; but to
grumble at the way in which it is working, or to worry as to how matters will
turn out, is obviously the height of folly. How often we hear men say: “If it
were not for the unfortunate circumstances which surround me, I should be a very
fine fellow indeed; I would soon show you what I could do along this line or
along that; but, cramped as I am, how can you expect anything from me?”
1096.
Now the man who talks in that way has no conception of the meaning of
life. What each man would like best, no doubt, would be a set of circumstances
which would give him a chance of using such powers as he already possesses, of
showing what he can do. But we must remember that Nature wants to develop us in
all directions, not in one only; and to that end we often find ourselves thrown
into conditions where we must do the very thing that we would say we
cannot do, in order that we may learn that lesson and unfold that power, which
at present lies latent within us.
1097.
So instead of sitting down and grumbling that we are under the control of
adverse circumstances, our business is to get up and control the circumstances
for ourselves. The weak man is the slave of his environment; the strong man
learns how to dominate it, which is precisely what he is intended to do.
1098.
Then again, see how we worry ourselves about what others think of us,
forgetting that what we do is no affair of theirs, so long as it does not
interfere with them, and that their opinion is, after all, not of the slightest
consequence. Our endeavour must be to do our duty as we see it, and to try to
help our fellows whenever occasion presents itself; if your conscience approves
your action, no other criticism need trouble you. It is to your Father in Heaven
that you are responsible for your deeds, not to Mrs. So-and-so, who is peeping
through the blind next door.
1099.
Perhaps the same worthy lady says something spiteful about you, and
half-a-dozen kind friends take care to repeat and exaggerate it. If you are
foolish you are mightily offended, and a feud is set on foot which may last for
months and involve a host of innocent people; and then you actually try to throw
the responsibility for all this silly unpleasantness on the shoulders of the
neighbour at whose remark you chose to take offence! Use plain common sense for
a moment, and just think how ridiculous that is.
1100.
In the first place, in nine cases out of ten, your neighbour didn' t say
it at all, or didn' t mean it in the sense in which you take it, so that you are
probably doing her a gross injustice. Even in the tenth case, when she really
did say it and meant it, there was most likely some exasperating cause of which
you know nothing; she may have been kept awake all night by a toothache or a
restless baby! Surely it is neither kind nor dignified to take notice of a hasty
word uttered under the influence of irritation.
Of course it was quite wrong of her, and she ought to have
exhibited the same angelic charity that you yourself always show; I am not
defending her in the least; I am only suggesting that because she has done one
foolish thing there is no real reason why you should do another.
1101.
After all, what harm has she done you? It is not she who is
responsible for your annoyance, but your own want of thought. What are her words
but a mere vibration of the air? If you had not heard of them you would not have
felt offended, and yet her part of the action would have been just the
same. Therefore, the feeling of anger is your fault and not hers; you
have unnecessarily allowed yourself to be violently excited by something which
in reality is powerless to affect you. It is your own pride which has stirred up
your passion, not her idle words. Think, and you will see that this is so.
Simple, plain common sense, and nothing more; and yet how few people see clearly
enough to take it in that way! And how much unhappiness might be avoided if we
only used our brains more and our tongues less!
1102.
These considerations show us that the clouds of unhappiness can be
dispelled by knowledge and reason; and it is unquestionably both our interest
and our duty instantly and vigorously to set about that dispersion. It is our
interest, since when that is done our lives will be longer and more fruitful; “a
merry heart goes all the day; a sad one tires in a mile.” Make the best of
everything, not the worst; watch for the good in the world, and not for the
evil. Let your criticism be of that happy kind which pounces upon a pearl as
eagerly as the average atrabilious critic flies at a flaw; and you have no idea
how much easier and pleasanter your life will become. There is a beauty
everywhere in Nature, if we will only look for it; there is always plenty of
reason for gladness, if we will but search for it instead of trying to hunt out
causes for grumbling.
1103.
It is our duty, for it is thoroughly well established that both happiness
and misery are infectious. All who have studied these matters know that these
waves of matter, finer than we can see, which are continually radiating from us
in every direction, carry with them to those around us our feelings of joy or of
sorrow. So if you allow yourself to give way to sadness and despondency, you are
actually radiating gloom-- darkening God' s sunlight for your neighbours, and
making your brother' s burden heavier for him to bear; and you have no right to
do this.
1104.
On the other hand, if you are yourself full of happiness, that radiant
joy is poured upon all who come near you, and you become a veritable sun,
showering life and light and love in your small circle on the earth, even as the
Deity Himself floods them forth through all the universe; and so in your tiny
way you are a fellow-worker together with Him.
1105.
PEACE
1106.
Behind the active happiness there must be an abiding peace, and this also
we must try to radiate. The lack of peace is one of the most lamentable
characteristics of our age. There never was a time when man needed more sorely
the sage advice of S. Peter: “Seek peace and ensue it,” but the majority know
not even in what direction to begin the search, and so they decide that peace is
unattainable on earth, and resign themselves to discomfort.
1107.
Man is living simultaneously in three worlds, the physical, the astral or
emotional, and the mental, and he has in each of these a body or vehicle through
which he expresses himself. At all these levels, in all these vehicles, there
should be peace; yet with most of us that is very far from being the case.
1108.
On the physical earth, there is hardly a person who is not complaining of
something, who is not frequently ill in some way. One man' s digestion is out of
order, another has constant headaches, a third finds his nerves breaking down,
and so on. In the world of emotion matters are no better, for people are
constantly allowing themselves to be shaken and torn by violent feelings,
sorrow, anger, jealousy, envy; and so they are quite unnecessarily miserable.
Nor are they at peace mentally, for they are perpetually rushing from one line
of thought to another, full of worry and hurry, always desiring new things
before they have understood or utilised the old.
1109.
The causes of this universal unrest are three-- ignorance, desire, and
selfishness. Therefore, the path to peace consists in conquering these
hindrances, and replacing them by their opposites-- in gaining knowledge,
self-control and unselfishness. Men often think that the causes of their
disquiet are exterior to themselves, that sorrow and trouble press upon them
from without, not realising that nothing outside can affect them unless they
themselves permit it to do so. None but ourselves can ever hurt us or hinder us,
just as no one else can make our progress for us. As has been beautifully said
in the East, the path lies within us. If we take the trouble to consider it, we
shall see that this is so.
1110.
To gain peace we must first gain knowledge-- knowledge of the laws under
which evolution is working. When we are ignorant of these laws, we are
constantly breaking them, constantly pushing aside from the path of the progress
of the race in pursuit of some fancied private and personal advantage or
pleasure. The steady pressure of the law of evolution forces us back, for our
own good, into the path which we have left, we are restless; we struggle against
it; we complain of the pain and the trouble as though they had come upon us by
mere chance, when all the time it is our own resistance to the guidance of the
law that causes us to feel its constraining power.
1111.
Our health suffers because we so often live unhealthily; we eat the wrong
food, we wear unsuitable clothing, we ignore ventilation and exercise, we pass
our lives amidst unsanitary conditions, and then we wonder why our heads ache or
why our nerves and digestion fail us. The man who knows the laws of hygiene and
takes the trouble to obey them avoids these evils.
1112.
Precisely the same is true with regard to the worlds of thought and
emotion; these have their natural laws, and to break those laws means suffering.
Unfortunately, many people have the idea that all rules relating to these realms
of thought and emotion are arbitrary; religious teachers have made the
disastrous mistake of talking about the imposition of punishment for
the breach of them, and so have obscured the plain fact that they are just as
much laws of nature as those with which we are familiar in physical life, and
that what follows upon any infraction of them is not punishment, but
merely the natural result. If a man seizes a red-hot bar of iron with
the naked hand, he will be burnt; but it would not occur to us to describe the
burn as a punishment for taking hold of the bar. Yet we often do so describe
results which are just as natural and just as inevitable.
1113.
Knowledge of the great scheme of evolution and its laws not only shows us
how to live so as to earn peace in the future; it also gives us peace here and
now in the present, because it enables us to understand the object of life, to
see the unity through all its diversity, the glorious final triumph through the
mist of apparently hopeless misery and confusion. For when once the scheme is
comprehended, its end is no longer a matter of blind faith, but of mathematical
certainty; and from that certainty comes peace.
1114.
To our knowledge we must add self-control-- control, not merely of
actions and words, but of desires, emotions and thoughts.
1115.
For all thoughts and emotions show themselves as waves in the matter of
the mental and astral bodies respectively; and in both cases the evil or selfish
thoughts are always comparatively slow vibrations of the coarser matter, while
the good unselfish thoughts are the more rapid undulations which play only in
the finer matter. But a sudden rush of anger or envy or fear overwhelms for a
moment the whole of the astral body, and forces it all to swing for that moment
at a special rate. This soon calms down, and the body returns to its normal
rates of oscillation. But ever after it is a little more ready to respond to the
particular rate which expresses that evil passion.
1116.
Long ago the great Lord Buddha taught His followers that the life of the
ordinary man is full of sorrow, because he attaches himself to earthly things
that decay and pass away. He desires wealth and power or position, and he is
discontented because he does not gain them, or because, having gained them, he
finds them slipping from him. Even to his friends he attaches himself wrongly,
for he loves the physical body which must change and fade, instead of the real
man who lives on through the ages, and so when his friend lays aside the outer
vehicle he mourns him as ` dead' and thinks that he has lost him.
1117.
The whole tendency of our civilisation is to increase desire, to multiply
our requirements. Things which were regarded as luxuries by one generation are
considered necessities of life by the next, and our desire is ever reaching out
in new directions. If we wish for peace; we must learn to limit these desires,
to live a simpler life, to be satisfied with comfort without longing for luxury,
we must distinguish necessities from superfluities. It is better to decrease our
wants and leave ourselves time to rest, rather than to work ourselves to death
in the desperate effort to satisfy constantly increasing wants. If we are to
have peace, we must certainly control desire.
1118.
Another fertile source of disquiet is the habit that we have of
interfering with other people-- of perpetually trying to make them see and do
things as we see and do them. Many of us seem quite unable to hold a conviction
on any subject, social, political or religious, without immediately quarrelling
with every one whose convictions happen to be different, and getting up a heated
argument about the matter. When we learn ungrudgingly to allow others the same
freedom of opinion on every subject that we so unhesitatingly claim for
ourselves, when we learn to refrain from criticising them because they differ
from us, we shall have advanced far along the path which leads to peace.
1119.
Most of all is it necessary for peace that we should cast aside the
personality and acquire unselfishness. So long as we are self-centred, so long
as the ` I' is the pivot round which all our universe turns, we insensibly but
inevitably expect that it shall be the centre for others as well, and when we
find that they are acting without reference to us-- without recognising our
paramount claims to consideration-- we become irritable and self assertive, and
peace flies far from us.
1120.
We must realise that we are souls and not bodies; if we identify
ourselves (as men usually do) with the physical vehicle, we cannot avoid giving
altogether undue importance to what happens to it, and we become, to a large
extent, slaves to it and its perpetually changing feelings. It is to avoid such
bondage that the Oriental adopts the habit of thought which leads him to
substitute for our ordinary phrases: “I am hungry, I am tired,” the more exact
statement: “My body is hungry, my body is tired.”
1121.
It is only one step farther to see that we are equally in error when we
say: “I am angry, I am jealous.” The true ` I' is the self behind or within all
these vehicles, and that self cannot be angry or jealous, though its astral body
may; but it is just as much a mistake for a man to identify himself with the
astral vehicle as with the physical. He must not be the slave of any of his
bodies mental, astral or physical; these three together make up his personality,
the temporary and partial expression of him, but they are not he, any
more than the clothes are the man.
1122.
These four steps, then, must be taken. We must acquire knowledge by
study, and having acquired it, we must put it into practice; we must learn to
limit our desires and control our emotions, and we must eliminate the lower
personality, and identify ourselves as the self behind. We must substitute
altruism for egoism; we must realise the God within us before we can attain “the
peace of God which passeth all understanding”.
1123.
That is the path to peace. May that peace rest upon us all.
1124.
CHAPTER XIX
1125.
BY WHAT WE THINK
1126.
THE REALM OF THOUGHT
1127.
A STUDENT of occultism trains himself in the art of thinking, and
consequently his thought is much more powerful than that of the untrained man,
and is likely to influence a wider circle and to produce a much greater effect.
This happens quite outside of his own consciousness, without his making any
effort in the matter. But precisely because he has learnt the mighty power of
thought it becomes his duty to use it for the helping of others. In order to do
this effectively he must understand exactly how it acts.
1128.
One of the most striking characteristics of the unseen world which lies
all about us is the ready response of the finer type of matter of which it is
constructed to the influences of human thought and emotion. It is difficult for
those who have not studied the subject to grasp the absolute reality of these
forces-- to understand that their action is in every respect as definite upon
the finer type of matter as is that of steam or electricity upon physical
matter.
1129.
Every one knows that a man who has at his disposal a large amount of
steam-power or electrical power can do useful work and produce definite results;
but few people know that every man has at his disposal a certain amount of this
other and higher power, and that with that he can produce results just as
definite and just as real.
1130.
As matters stand at present in the physical world, only a few men can
have at their disposal any large amount of its forces, and so only a few can
become rich by their means; but it is a prominent feature of the vivid interest
of the unseen side of life that every human being, rich or poor, old or young,
has already at his disposal no inconsiderable proportion of its forces, and
therefore the riches of these higher worlds, which are obtained by the right use
of these powers, are within the reach of all.
1131.
Here, then, is a power possessed by all, but intelligently used as yet by
few; it is surely well worth our while to take up the matter, to enquire into it
and try to comprehend it. Indeed, there is even more reason for so doing than
has yet been mentioned, for the truth is that to some extent we are all already
unconsciously making use of this power, and because of our ignorance we are
employing it wrongly, and doing harm with it instead of good. The possession of
power always means responsibility, so in order to avoid doing harm
unintentionally, and in order to utilise thoroughly these magnificent
possibilities, it will clearly be well for us to learn all that we can on this
subject.
1132.
THE EFFECTS OF THOUGHT
1133.
What then is thought, and how does it show itself? It is in the mental
body that it first manifests itself to the sight of the clairvoyant, and it
appears as a vibration of its matter-- a vibration which is found to produce
various effects, all of them quite in line with what scientific experience in
the physical world would lead us to expect.
1134.
There is the effect produced upon the mental body itself, and we find
that to be of the nature of setting up a habit. There are many different types
of matter in the mental body, and each of them appears to have its own special
rate of undulation, to which it seems most accustomed, so that it readily
responds to it and tends to return to it as soon as possible when it has been
forced away from it by some strong rush of thought or feeling. A sufficiently
strong thought may for the moment set all the particles of one division of the
mental body swinging at the same rate; and every time that that happens it is a
little easier for it to happen again. A habit of moving at that rate is being
set up in these particles of the mental body, so that the man will readily
repeat that particular thought.
1135.
There is the effect produced upon the other vehicles of the man, which
are above and below the mental body in degree of density. We know that physical
disturbances in one type of matter are readily communicated to another type--
that, for example, an earthquake (which is a movement in solid matter) will
produce a mighty wave in the sea (which is liquid matter), and again from the
other side that the disturbance of the air (which is gaseous matter) by a storm
will immediately produce ripples, and shortly great waves in the ocean beneath
it.
1136.
In just the same way a disturbance in a man' s astral body (which we
commonly call an emotion) will set up vibrations in the mental body, and cause
thoughts which correspond to the emotion. Conversely, the waves in the mental
body affect the astral body, if they be of a type which can affect it, which
means that certain types of thought readily provoke emotion. Just as the wave in
mental matter acts upon the astral substance, which is denser than it is, so
also does it inevitably act upon the matter of the casual body, which is finer
than it; and thus the habitual thought of the man builds up qualities in the ego
himself.
1137.
So far we have been dealing with the effect of the man' s thought upon
himself; and we see that in the first place it tends to repeat itself, and that
in the second it acts not only upon his emotions, but also permanently upon the
man himself. Now let us turn to the effects which it produces outside of
himself-- that is, upon the sea of mental matter which surrounds us all just as
does the atmosphere.
1138.
Every thought produces a radiating undulation, which may be either simple
or complex according to the nature of the thought which gives it birth. These
vibrations may under certain conditions be confined to the mental world, but
more frequently they produce an effect in worlds above and below. If the thought
be purely intellectual and impersonal-- if, for example, the thinker is
considering a philosophical system, or attempting to solve a problem in algebra
or geometry-- the thought-wave will affect merely the mental matter. If the
thought be of a spiritual nature, if it be tinged with love or aspiration or
with deep unselfish feeling, it will rise upwards into the realm of the higher
mental, and may even borrow some of the splendour and glory of the intuitional
level-- a combination which renders it exceedingly powerful. If on the other
hand the thought is tinged with something of self or of personal desire, its
oscillations at once draw downwards and expend most of their force in the astral
world.
1139.
All these thought-waves act upon their respective levels just as does a
wave of light or sound here on the physical. They radiate out in all directions,
becoming less powerful in proportion to their distance from their source. The
radiation not only affects the sea of mental matter which surrounds us, but also
acts upon other mental bodies moving within that sea. We are all familiar with
the experiment in which a note struck on a piano or a string sounded on a violin
will set the corresponding note sounding upon another instrument of the same
kind which has been tuned exactly to the same pitch. Just as the vibration set
up in one instrument is conveyed through the air and acts upon the other
instrument, so is the thought-vibration set up in one mental body conveyed by
the surrounding mental matter and reproduced in another mental body-- which,
stated from another point of view, means that thought is infectious. We will
return to this consideration later.
1140.
Every thought produces not only a wave but a form-- a definite, separate
object which is endowed with force and vitality of a certain kind, and in many
cases behaves not at all unlike a temporary living creature. This form, like the
wave, may be in the mental realm only; but much more frequently it descends to
the astral level and produces its principal effect in the world of emotions. The
study of these thought-forms is of exceeding interest; a detailed account of
many of them, with coloured illustrations of their appearance, will be found in
the book Thought-Forms. At the moment we are concerned less with their
appearance than with their effects and with the way in which they can be
utilised.
1141.
Let us consider separately the action of these two manifestations of
thought-power. The wave may be simple or it may be complex, according to the
character of the thought; but its strength is poured out chiefly upon some one
of the four levels of mental matter-- the four subdivisions which constitute the
lower part of the mental world. Most of the thoughts of the ordinary man centre
round himself, his desires and his emotions, and they therefore produce waves in
the lowest subdivision of the mental matter; indeed, the part of the mental body
built of that kind of matter is the only one which is as yet fully evolved and
active in the great majority of mankind.
1142.
In this respect the condition of the mental body is quite different from
that of the astral vehicle. In the ordinary cultured man of our race the astral
body is as fully developed as the physical, and the man is perfectly capable of
using it as a vehicle of consciousness. He is not yet much in the habit of so
using it, and is consequently shy about it and distrustful of his powers; but
the astral powers are there, and it is only a question of becoming accustomed to
their use. When he finds himself functioning in the astral world, either during
sleep or after death, he is fully capable of sight and hearing, and can move
about whithersoever he will.
1143.
In the heaven-world, however, he finds himself under very different
conditions, for the mental body is as yet by no means fully developed, that
being the part of its evolution upon which the human race is at the present
moment engaged. The mental body can be employed as a vehicle only by those who
have been specially trained in its use under teachers belonging to the Great
Brotherhood of Initiates; in the average man its powers are only partially
unfolded, and it cannot be employed as a separate vehicle of consciousness. In
the majority of men the higher portions of the mental body are as yet quite
dormant, even when the lower portions are in vigorous activity. This necessarily
implies that while the whole mental atmosphere is surging with thought-waves
belonging to the lowest subdivision, there is as yet comparatively little
activity on the higher sub-divisions-- a fact which we shall need to have
clearly in mind when we come to consider presently the practical possibility of
the use of thought-power. It has also an important bearing upon the distance to
which a thought-wave may penetrate.
1144.
To help us to understand this we may take an analogy from the action of
the voice of a public speaker. He can make himself heard to a certain distance--
a distance which depends upon the power of his voice. In the case of a
thought-form that power corresponds to the strength of the vibrations. But the
distance to which a speaker can be understood is quite another matter,
and depends often more upon the clearness of his enunciation than the strength
of his voice. That clearness of enunciation is represented in the case of a
thought-form by definiteness, clearness of outline.
1145.
Many a man who is not trained in the art of public speaking might send
forth a shout which would penetrate to a considerable distance, but would be
quite unintelligible. Just in the same way a man who feels strongly, but is not
trained in the art of thinking, may send forth a powerful thought-form which
conveys strongly enough the feeling which inspires it-- a feeling of joy, of
terror or of surprise; and yet it may be so vaguely outlined as to impart no
idea of the nature or the cause of the emotion. Evidently, therefore, dearness
of thought is at least as necessary as strength of thought.
1146.
Again, the speaker' s voice may be clear and strong, and his words may be
perfectly audible at the place where an auditor is standing; yet the words
convey no meaning to that auditor if he is so preoccupied with some other matter
that he is not paying attention. This also has its exact correspondence in the
world of thought. One may send out a clear, strong thought, and even aim it
definitely at another person, but if that man' s mind is entirely preoccupied
with his own affairs, the thought-form can produce no impression upon his mental
body. Often men in a wild panic do not even hear the advice or orders shouted to
them; under the same influence they are equally impervious to thought-forms.
1147.
The majority of mankind do not know how to think at all, and even those
who are a little more advanced than that, rarely think definitely and strongly,
except during the moments in which they are actually engaged in some piece of
business which demands their whole attention. Consequently, large numbers of
minds are always lying fallow all about us, ready to receive whatever seed we
may sow in them.
1148.
THE THOUGHT-WAVE
1149.
The action of the thought-vibration is eminently adaptable. It may
exactly reproduce itself, if it finds a mental body which readily responds to it
in every particular; but when this is not the case, it may nevertheless produce
a marked effect along lines broadly similar to its own. Suppose, for example,
that a Catholic kneels in devotion before an image of the Blessed Virgin. He
sends rippling out from him in all directions strong, devotional thought-waves;
if they strike upon the mental of astral body of another Catholic, they arouse
in him a thought and feeling identical with the original; but if they strike
upon a Christian of some other sect, to whom the image of the Blessed Virgin is
unfamiliar, they still awaken in him the sentiment of devotion, but that will
follow along its accustomed channel, and be directed towards the Christ.
1150.
If they touch a Muhammadan they arouse in him devotion to Allah, while in
the case of a Hindu the object may be Krishna, and in the case of a Parsi
Ahuramazda. They excite devotion of some sort wherever there is a possibility of
response to that idea. If this thought-wave touches the mental body of a
materialist, to whom the very idea of devotion in any form is unknown, even
there it produces an elevating effect; it cannot at once create a type of
undulation to which the man is wholly unaccustomed, but its tendency is to stir
a higher part of his mental body into some sort of activity, and the effect,
though less permanent than in the case of the sympathetic recipient, cannot fail
to be good.
1151.
The action of an evil or impure thought is governed by the same laws. A
man who is so foolish as to allow himself to think of another with hatred or
envy, radiates a thought-wave tending to provoke similar passions in others, and
though his feeling of hatred is for some one quite unknown to these others, and
so it is impossible that they should share his feeling, yet the wave will stir
in them an emotion of the same nature towards a totally different person.
1152.
THE THOUGHT-FORM
1153.
The work of the thought-form is more limited, but much more precise than
that of the wave. It cannot reach so many persons-- indeed, it cannot act upon a
person at all unless he has in him something which is harmonious with the
vibrant energy which ensouls it. The powers and possibilities of these
thought-forms will perhaps be clearer to us if we attempt to classify them. Let
us consider first the thought which is definitely directed towards another
person.
1154.
When a man sends forth from himself a thought of affection or of
gratitude (or unfortunately it may be sometimes of envy or jealousy) towards
some one else such a thought produces radiating waves precisely as would any
other, and therefore tends to reproduce its general character in the minds of
those within the sphere of its influence. But the thought-form which it creates
is imbued with definite intention, and as soon as it breaks away from the mental
and astral bodies of the thinker, it goes straight towards the person to whom it
is directed and fastens itself upon him.
1155.
If he happens at the moment to be thinking of nothing in particular, and
is consequently in a passive condition, it at once penetrates his mental and
astral bodies and is lost in them, just as a comet might fall into the sun. It
tends to arouse in them vibrations similar to its own-- which means that the man
will begin to think upon that particular subject, whatever it may be. If he is
in a condition of mental activity, and any part of that activity is of the same
nature as the arriving thought-form, it enters his mental body through that part
of it which is expressing the sympathetic thought, and adds its strength to that
thought. If the recipient' s mind is so preoccupied that the thought-form cannot
find entrance, it will hover about him until he is sufficiently disengaged to
give it an opportunity to gain its object.
1156.
In the case of a thought which is not directed to some other person, but
is connected chiefly with the thinker himself (as indeed are the majority of
men' s thoughts) the wave spreads in all directions as usual, but the
thought-form floats in the immediate neighbourhood of its creator, and its
tendency is constantly to react upon him. As long as his mind is fully occupied
with business, or with a thought of some other type, the floating form waits,
biding its time; but when his train of thought is exhausted, or his mind for a
moment lies fallow, it has an opportunity to react upon him, and it immediately
begins to repeat itself-- to stir up in him a repetition of the thought to which
he has previously yielded himself. Many a man is surrounded by a shell of such
thought-forms, and he frequently feels their pressure upon him-- a constant
suggestion from without of certain thoughts; and if the thought be evil he may
believe himself to be tempted by the devil, whereas the truth is that he is his
own tempter and that the evil thoughts are entirely his own creation.
1157.
There is the class of thought which is neither centred round the thinker
nor specially aimed at any person. The thought-form generated in this case does
not hang about the thinker, nor has it any special attraction towards another
man, so it remains idly floating at the place where it was called into
existence. Each man, as he moves through life, is thus producing three classes
of thought-forms:
1158.
Those which shoot straight out away from him, aiming at a definite
objective.
1159.
Those which hover round him and follow him wherever he goes.
1160.
Those which he leaves behind him as a sort of trail which marks his
route.
1161.
The whole atmosphere is filled with thoughts of this third type, vague
and indeterminate; as we walk along we are picking our way through vast masses
of them, and if our minds are not already definitely occupied, these vague,
wandering fragments of other people' s thoughts often seriously affect us. They
sweep through the mind which is lying idle, and probably most of them do not
arouse in it any especial interest; but now and then comes one which attracts
attention, and the mind fastens upon it, entertains it for a moment or two, and
dismisses it a little stronger than it was on arrival.
1162.
Naturally this mixture of thoughts from many sources has no definite
coherence; though any one of them may start a line of associate ideas, and so
set the mind thinking on its own account. If a man pulls himself up suddenly as
he walks along the street, and asks himself:
1163.
“What am I thinking about, and why? how did I reach this particular point
in my train of thought?” and if he tries to follow back the line of his thoughts
for the last ten minutes, he will probably be quite surprised to discover how
many idle and useless fancies have passed through his mind in that space of
time. Not one-fourth of them are his own thoughts; they are simply fragments
which he has picked up as he passed along. In most cases they are quite useless,
and their general tendency is more likely to be evil than good.
1164.
WHAT WE CAN DO BY THOUGHT
1165.
Now that we understand to some extent the action of thought, let us see
what use it is possible to make of this knowledge, and what practical
considerations emerge from it. Knowing these things, what can we do to forward
our own evolution, and what can we do to help others? Obviously, a scientific
consideration of the way in which thought works, exhibits it as a matter of far
greater importance, not only for our own evolution but also for that of others,
than is ordinarily supposed.
1166.
When we look at this question of thought with regard to its effects upon
others, we find ourselves brought back again from this different point of view
to every one of the considerations which we have already emphasised when
speaking of the reaction of this force upon ourselves. This is natural, for what
tends to our progress must tend also to that of others. So we must touch these
subjects again, though but in passing.
1167.
Since every thought or emotion produces a permanent effect by
strengthening or weakening a tendency, and since furthermore every thought-wave
and thought-form must not only react upon the thinker, but also influence many
other people, the greatest care must be exercised as to the thought or emotion
which a man permits within himself.
The ordinary man rarely thinks of attempting to check an emotion; when he
feels it surging within him he yields himself to it and considers it merely
natural. One who studies scientifically the action of these forces realises that
it is his interest as well as his duty to check every such upwelling, and
consider, before he allows it to sway him, whether it is or is not prejudicial
to his evolution and to that of his neighbours.
1168.
Instead of allowing his emotions to run away with him he must have them
absolutely under control; and since the stage of evolution at which we have
arrived is the development of the mental body, he must take this matter
seriously in hand and see what can be done to assist that development. Instead
of allowing the mind to indulge in its vagaries he should endeavour to assert
control over it, recognising that the mind is not the man, but is an instrument
which the man must learn to use. It must not be left to lie fallow; it must not
be allowed to remain idle, so that any passing thought-form can drift in upon it
and impress it. The first step towards control of the mind is to keep it
usefully occupied-- to have (as has already been said) some definite, good and
useful set of thoughts as a background to the mind' s operation-- something upon
which it shall always fall back when there is no immediate need for its activity
in connection with duty to be done.
1169.
Another necessary point in its training is that it shall be taught to do
thoroughly that which it has to do-- in other words, that the power of
concentration shall be acquired. This is no light task, as any unpractised
person will find who endeavours to keep his mind absolutely upon one point even
for five minutes. He will find that there is an active tendency to wander-- that
all kinds of other thoughts thrust themselves in; the first effort to fix the
mind on one subject for five minutes is likely to resolve itself into spending
five minutes in bringing the mind back again and again from various side-issues
which it has followed.
1170.
Fortunately, though concentration itself is no easy thing, there are
plenty of opportunities for attempting it, and its acquisition is of great use
in our daily life. We should learn then, whatever we are doing, to focus our
attention upon it and to do it with all our might and as well as it can be done;
if we write a letter, let that letter be well and accurately written, and let no
carelessness in detail delay it or mar its effect; if we are reading a book,
even though it be only a novel, let us read it with attention, trying to grasp
the author' s meaning, and to gain from it all that there is to be gained. The
endeavour to be constantly learning something, to let no day pass without some
definite exercise of the mind, is a most salutary one; for it is only by
exercise that strength comes, and disuse means always weakness and eventual
atrophy.
1171.
It is also of great importance that we should learn to husband our
energy. Each man possesses only a certain amount of energy, and he is
responsible for its utilisation to the best advantage. The ordinary man wastes
his force in the most foolish manner.
He is always frittering it away without a shadow of necessity or
justification. Sometimes he is full of eager desire for something which is quite
unnecessary; or he is full of worry about some fancied evil which he imagines
may be impending. At another time he is deeply depressed, but does not know
exactly why; but whatever he alleges as the ostensible cause, the fact remains
that he is more or less in a condition of excitement and agitation, because he
will not take things philosophically, and lay to heart the wise old maxim that,
as regards what comes upon us from the outer world, “nothing matters much, and
most things don' t matter at all.” The thoughts and emotions of an average crowd
are like the inhabitants of a disturbed ant-hill, all rushing wildly and
aimlessly about in different directions, but causing a vast amount of disorder
and tumult; which is precisely why the occultist invariably avoids a crowd,
unless duty takes him into it. It is especially necessary for the student of
occultism to learn to avoid this dissipation of his energies.
1172.
One way in which the average man wastes a great deal of force is by
unnecessary argument. It appears to be impossible for him to hold any opinion,
whether it be religious or political, or relating to some matter in ordinary
life, without becoming a prey to an overmastering desire to force this opinion
upon every one else, He seems quite incapable of grasping the rudimentary fact
that what another man chooses to believe is no business of his, and that he is
not commissioned by the authorities in charge of the world to go round and
secure uniformity in thought and practice.
1173.
The wise man realises that truth is a many-sided thing, not commonly held
in its entirely by any one man, or by any one set of men; he knows that there is
room for diversity of opinion upon almost any conceivable subject, and that
therefore a man whose point of view is opposite to his own may nevertheless have
something of reason and truth in his belief. He knows that most of the subjects
over which men argue are not in the least worth the trouble of discussion, and
that those who speak most loudly and most confidently about them are usually
those who know least. The student of occultism will therefore decline to waste
his time in argument; if he is asked for information he is willing to give it,
but not to waste his time and strength in unprofitable wrangling.
1174.
Another painfully common method of wasting strength is that worry of
which I have already written as so serious an obstacle in the path of peace.
Many men are constantly forecasting evil for themselves and for those whom they
love-- troubling themselves with the fear of death and of what comes after it,
with the fear of financial ruin or loss of social position. A vast amount of
strength is frittered away along these unprofitable and unpleasant lines; but
all such foolishness is swept aside for the man who realises that the world is
governed by a law of absolute justice, that progress towards the highest is the
Divine Will for him, that he cannot escape from that progress, that whatever
comes in his way and whatever happens to him is meant to help him along that
line, and that he himself is the only person who can delay that advance. He no
longer troubles and fears about himself and about others; he simply goes on and
does the duty that comes nearest in the best way that he can, confident that if
he does that, all will be well for him. He knows that worry never yet helped any
one, nor has it ever been of the slightest use, but that it has been responsible
for an immense amount of evil and waste of force; and the wise man declines to
spend his strength in ill-directed emotion.
1175.
So we see that if it is necessary for his own evolution that man should
keep mind and emotion under control, and not foolishly waste his force, it is
still more necessary from another point of view, because it is only by such care
that he can enable himself to be of use to his fellow men, that he can avoid
doing harm to them and can learn how to do good. If, for example, he lets
himself feel angry, he naturally produces a grave effect upon himself, because
he sets up an evil habit and makes it more difficult to resist the evil impulse
next time it assails him. But he also acts seriously upon others around him, for
inevitably the vibrations which radiate from him must affect them also.
1176.
If he is making an effort to control his irritability, so perhaps are
they, and his action will help or hinder them, even though he is not in the
least thinking of them. Every time that he allows himself to send out a wave of
anger, that tends to arouse a similar vibration in the mind or astral body of
another-- to arouse it if it has not previously existed and to intensify it if
it is already present; and thus he makes his brother' s work of self-development
harder for him, and places a heavier burden upon his shoulders. On the other
hand, if he controls and represses the wave of anger, he radiates instead,
calming and soothing influences which are distinctly helpful to all those near
him who are engaged in the same struggle.
1177.
Few people realise their responsibilities in this matter. It is bad
enough surely that any evil thought of ours should communicate itself to the
minds of any persons within range of us who may happen to be idle and
unoccupied. But the truth is much worse than that. In every man there lie germs
or possibilities of evil which have come over from a previous life, but have not
as yet been called into activity in this incarnation. If we send out an evil or
impure thought, it may easily happen that it arouses into activity one of these
germs, and so through our lack of self-control there comes into that man' s life
an evil of which otherwise he might have got rid. We revive in him the dormant
tendency which was in the act of dying out, and thereby we delay him in his
upward progress.
1178.
So long as that germ is dormant the quality is dying out, but when it is
aroused again it may increase to any extent. It is like breaking a hole through
a dyke and letting out the water. In fact, a man who sends out an evil thought
cannot tell for what amount of evil he may make himself responsible; for a man
who becomes wicked, in consequence of that thought, may in turn affect other
people, and those yet others in turn; so it is actually true that because of one
evil thought generations yet to come may suffer. Happily all this is true of
good thoughts as well as of evil, and the man who understands this fact uses
wisely the power which it gives him, and may have an influence for good which is
beyond all calculation.
1179.
THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THOUGHT
1180.
Possessing this tremendous power, we must be careful how we exercise it.
We must remember to think of a person as we wish him to be, for the image that
we thus make of him will naturally act powerfully upon him, and tend to draw him
gradually into harmony with itself. Let us fix our thoughts upon the good
qualities of our friends, because in thinking of any quality we tend to
strengthen its vibrations, and therefore to intensify it.
1181.
From this consideration it follows that the habit of gossip and scandal,
in which many people thoughtlessly indulge themselves; is in reality heinous
wickedness, in condemning which no expression can be too strong. When people are
guilty of the impertinence of discussing others, it is not usually upon the good
qualities that they most insist. We have therefore a number of people fixing
their thought upon some alleged evil in another, and calling to that evil the
attention of others who might perhaps not have observed it; and in this way, if
that bad quality really exists in the person whom they are so improperly
criticising, they distinctly increase it by strengthening the undulation which
is its expression. If, as is usually the case, the depravity exists only in
their own prurient imagination, and is not present in the person about whom they
are gossiping, then they are doing the utmost in their power to create that evil
quality in that person, and if there be any latent germ of it existing in their
victim, their nefarious effect is only too likely to be successful.
1182.
We may think helpfully of those whom we love; we may hold before them in
thought a high ideal of themselves, and wish strongly that they may presently be
enabled to attain it; but if we know of certain defects or vices in a man' s
character, we should never under any circumstances let our thoughts dwell upon
them and intensify them; our plan should be to formulate a strong thought of the
contrary virtues, and then send out waves of that thought to the man who needs
our help. The ordinary method is for one to say to another.
1183.
“O my dear, what a terrible thing it is that Mrs. So-and-So is so
ill-tempered! Why, do you know, only yesterday she did this and that, and I have
heard that she constantly, etc., etc. Isn' t it a terrible thing?”
1184.
And this is repeated by each person to her thirty or forty dearest
friends, and in a few hours several hundred people are pouring converging
streams of thought, all about anger and irritability, upon the unfortunate
victim. Is it any wonder that she presently justifies their expectations, and
gives them yet another example of ill-tempered over which they can gloat?
1185.
A person wishing to help in such a case will be especially careful to
avoid thinking about anger at all, but instead will think with force:
1186.
“I wish Mrs. So-and-So were calm and serene; she has the possibility of
such self-control within her; let me try frequently to send her strong, calm,
soothing thought-waves, such as will help her to realise the Divine possibility
within her.”
1187.
In the one case the thought is of anger; in the other it is of serenity;
in both alike it will inevitably find its goal, and tend to reproduce itself in
the mental and astral bodies of the recipient of the thought. By all means let
us think frequently and lovingly of our friends, but let us think of their good
points only, and try, by concentrating our attention upon those, to strengthen
them and to help our friends by their means.
1188.
A man often says that he cannot control his thoughts or his passions--
that he has often tried to do so, but has consistently failed, and has therefore
come to the conclusion that such effort is useless. This idea is wholly
unscientific. If an evil quality or habit possesses a certain amount of strength
within us, it is because in previous lives we have allowed that strength to
accumulate-- because we have not resisted it in the beginning when it could
easily have been repressed, but have permitted it to gather the momentum which
makes it difficult now to deal with it.
1189.
We have, in fact, made it easy for ourselves to move along a certain
line, and correspondingly difficult to move along another line-- difficult, but
not impossible. The amount of momentum or energy accumulated is necessarily a
finite amount; even if we have devoted several lives entirely to storing up such
energy (an unlikely supposition), still the time so occupied has been a limited
time, and the results are necessarily finite.
1190.
If we have now realised the mistake we made, and are setting ourselves to
control that habit and to neutralise that impetus, we shall find it necessary to
put forth exactly as much strength in the opposite direction as we originally
spent in setting up that momentum. Naturally we cannot instantly produce
sufficient force entirely to counteract the work of many years, but every effort
which we make will reduce the amount of force stored up. We ourselves as living
souls can go on generating force indefinitely; we have an infinite store of
strength on which to draw, and therefore it is absolutely certain that if we
persevere we must eventually succeed. However often we may fail, each time
something is withdrawn from that finite store of force, and it will be exhausted
before we shall, so that our eventual success is simply a matter of mechanics.
1191.
The knowledge of the use of these thought-currents makes it possible for
us always to give assistance when we know of some case of sorrow or suffering.
It often happens that we are unable to do anything for the sufferer physically;
our bodily presence may not be helpful to him; his physical brain may be closed
to our suggestions by prejudice or by religious bigotry. But his astral and
mental bodies are far more easily impressible than the physical, and it is
always open to us to approach these by a wave of helpful thought or of affection
and soothing feeling.
1192.
The law of cause and effect holds good just as certainly in finer matter
as in denser, and consequently the energy which we pour forth must reach its
goal and must produce it effect. There can be no question that the image or the
idea which we wish to put before the man for his comfort or his help will reach
him; whether it will present itself clearly to his mind when it arrives depends,
first upon the definiteness of outline which we have been able to give to it,
and secondly upon his mental condition at the time. He may be so fully occupied
with thoughts of his own trials and sufferings that there is little room for our
idea to insert itself; but in that case our thought-form simply bides its time,
and when at last his attention is diverted, or exhaustion forces him to suspend
the activity of his own train of thought, ours will at once slip in and do its
errand of mercy. There are so many cases where the best will in the world can do
nothing physically; but there is no conceivable case in which either in the
mental or the astral world some relief cannot be given by steady, concentrated,
loving thought.
1193.
The phenomena of mind-cure show how powerful thought may be even in the
physical world, and since it acts so much more easily in astral and mental
matter we may realise vividly how tremendous the power really is, if we will but
exercise it. We should watch for every opportunity of being thus helpful; there
is little doubt that plenty of cases will offer themselves. As we walk along the
street, as we ride in a tram-car or railway train, we often see some one who is
obviously suffering from depression or sadness; there is our opportunity, and we
may immediately take advantage of it by trying to arouse and to help him.
1194.
Let us try to send him strongly the feeling that, in spite of his
personal sorrows and troubles, the sun still shines above all, and there is
still much for which to be thankful, much that is good and beautiful in the
world. Sometimes we may see the instant effect of our effort-- we may actually
watch the man brighten up under the influence of the thought which we have sent
to him. We cannot always expect such immediate physical result; but if we
understand the laws of nature we shall in every case be equally sure that some
result is being produced.
1195.
It is often difficult for the man who is unaccustomed to these studies to
believe that he is really affecting those at whom his thought is aimed; but
experience in a great number of cases has shown us that anyone who makes a
practice of such efforts will in time find evidence of his success accumulating
until it is no longer possible for him to doubt. The man should make it part of
his life thus to try to help all whom he knows and loves, whether they be living
or what is commonly called dead; for naturally the possession or the absence of
the physical body makes no difference whatever to the action of forces which are
levelled at the mental and astral bodies. By steady, regular practice of this
sort great good will be done, for we gain strength by practice, and so, while we
are developing our own powers and insuring our progress, the world will be
helped by our kindly efforts.
1196.
Thus whatever is truly for our own interest is also for the interest of
the world, and what is not good for the world can never in reality be for our
interest either. For all true gain is gained for all. To many a man this may
appear a strange statement, because we are accustomed to think that what one man
gains another loses; yet it enshrines a great truth. Elsewhere I have shown that
if one party to a transaction is unfairly treated, and therefore loses, there is
no true gain for the other.
1197.
A straightforward, honest piece of business means gain for both parties.
A tradesman, let us suppose, buys his goods wholesale, and then, taking care to
say of them only what is strictly true, disposes of them by retail at a
reasonable profit. Here all parties gain, for the wholesale merchant and the
tradesman make their living, while the purchasers are willing to pay the retail
price in order to have the convenience of buying in small quantities. Each
person gains what he wishes; no one loses; all are satisfied.
1198.
This is merely a superficial example from the physical world; it is in
the higher realms of thought that we may see most clearly how beautifully this
rule works. Suppose that a man gains knowledge. He may impart his gain to a
hundred others, yet he himself will have lost nothing. Not only so, but even
others, to whom he does not impart it, will gain indirectly from his possession
of it. Because he has this added knowledge, he is by so much a wiser and more
useful man; his words should be the more weighty, his actions the more
sagacious, and so others around him should be the better for his learning.
1199.
We may go deeper still. Since the man knows more, not only his words and
action but his thoughts will be wiser than before. His thought-forms will be
better, the waves flowing from his mental body higher and richer; and these must
inevitably produce their result upon the mental bodies of others around him.
Like all other waves in nature they tend to reproduce themselves, to provoke a
similar rate of undulation in anything with which they come into contact. The
same natural law, by the action of which in the physical world you are able to
boil the water for your tea or to toast your bread at the fire, makes it
absolutely certain that the good effects of additional wisdom will influence
others, even though the possessor speaks never a word.
1200.
That is why in all religions so much importance is attached to the
company of the good, the wise, the pure. Human qualities are infectious, and it
is of the greatest moment that we should be careful to which of them we subject
ourselves.
1201.
Take another instance. Suppose that you gain the valuable power of
self-control. Perhaps you were formerly a passionate man, and now you have
learnt to check that outpouring of force, and to hold it in subjection. Let us
see how that affects others about you. In the physical world it is
unquestionably pleasanter for them, but them, but let us consider the effect on
their finer vehicles.
1202.
When in earlier days you allowed yourself to get into a rage, great waves
of strong wrath poured out from you in all directions. No one who has seen the
illustration of such an outrush as that which appears in Man Visible and
Invisible , will need to be told what disastrous effects such waves must
have produced upon the astral bodies of those who were so unfortunate as to be
near you. Perhaps one of those men was himself struggling the same evil habit.
If so, the emanations of your fury stirred up similar activity in his astral
body, and so you strengthened that evil, you made your brother' s task harder,
and his burden heavier to bear than it otherwise would have been. And once more
I must insist that you have no right to do that.
1203.
But now that you have gained self-control, all this is most happily
changed. Still you radiate vibrations, for that is Nature' s law, but now they
are no longer the lurid flashes of anger, but the calm, measured sweep of the
strong waves of love and peace. And these also impinge upon the astral body of
your fellow man, and tend to reproduce themselves in him; and if he is fighting
a battle against passion, their stately rhythm helps him and steadies him. Your
force is being exerted on his side instead of against him, and so you lighten
his burden, you aid him on his upward path. Is it not true then that in your
gain he has gained also?
1204.
Men are so inextricably linked together, humanity is so truly a unity
amidst all its marvellous diversity, that no one can advance or recede without
helping or hindering the progress of others. Wherefore it behoves us to take
heed that we are among the helpers and not among the hinderers, and that no
living being, whether man or animal, shall ever be the worse for any thought or
word or deed of ours.
1205.
CHAPTER XX
1206.
BY WHAT WE DO
1207.
WORK FOR THE POOR
1208.
THE question of what we can do is one which it is impossible to treat
fully, for the reason that each person has his own opportunities, and no two
sets of opportunities are alike. We are often asked whether a Theosophist should
undertake any of the ordinary charitable lines of work, which are not specially
connected with the Theosophical Society. This is a question which each must
answer for himself, because the answer to it depends on his special
circumstances. I think that it may be laid down as a general rule that when
there is specially Theosophical work that he can do, he should devote his time
to that, because that is a kind of business that only he can do, whereas many
other people can do the ordinary charitable labour as well as he.
1209.
Take for example a case of what is called slum work, the direct help of
the poor by visiting them and carrying to them various small comforts. None can
deny that this is a most excellent thing to do, and that it sadly needs doing;
but if one is to choose between spending a certain time in this distinctly
physical occupation and doing something in a higher world which will tend to
bring nearer the time when slums shall no longer exist, then I say that the
latter is the greater work to do and the better way of employing the time, for
only one who has studied Theosophy can help to spread the Theosophical teaching,
whereas any good and kind-hearted person, of whatever class, can undertake the
task of carrying food and blankets to the poor.
1210.
It is good work, surely, to help to make a road, but we should not put to
that task of road-making a man who has qualified himself as an engineer or a
doctor. Any man who has a talent in a certain direction or has the knowledge
necessary to enable him to work in a particular way, should be employed along
his special line, for there are only a few who can do that, whereas anyone can
do the unskilled labour of the world, and there are vast numbers who can do
only that. Therefore it seems to me that when a Theosophist can employ his
time in spreading and teaching Theosophy, he should not put this aside in order
to take up a more ordinary kind of work for the world. But if he is so situated
that he cannot do anything for the Theosophical propaganda which is his
speciality, he ought certainly then to employ his spare time in the highest type
of charitable labour within his reach.
1211.
What is required is that he should cultivate a spirit of benevolence,
that he should be eagerly watching all day long for opportunities of being
helpful. Best of course if he can be useful in the highest way, is guiding
people towards Theosophy, but when that is not for the moment possible, he
should be helpful in a more ordinary manner. He should employ himself in sending
out benevolent thoughts, or in making people happy in the physical world. He
should import the idea of helpfulness into every little daily action. Each man
must decide for himself how he can best do this, and his study of the hidden
side of things will offer him many suggestions; for it makes daily life much
more interesting, and enables us much more useful than we could be without it.
1212.
It shows us that many apparently trivial actions reach further than we
think, and therefore impresses strongly upon us the necessity for living
carefully and recollectedly. It shows a man that every action has its effect
upon those around him, even when it seems on the surface to concern himself
alone; that for this effect on others he is responsible, and that it offers him
a welcome opportunity for doing good. When this is once grasped, he realises
that he must order his life from this new point of view-- that it must be spent,
even in small things, not for himself, but for others. Many a man lives for
others in the sense that he regulates his life on what he imagines others are
thinking about him; but our student' s altruism will be of another sort. He will
put before himself for his guidance two stringent rules:
1213.
That everything shall be done unselfishly.
1214.
That everything shall be done with definite purpose, and as perfectly as
he can do it.
1215.
THE FORCE OF THE MASTER
1216.
If he does this, if he lives in this way, the Powers who rule the world
will soon recognise him and use him, for by living thus he makes himself a ready
channel for the power of the Master, a valuable instrument in His hands. Truly,
the help of the Holy Ones is given chiefly upon higher planes; but it is not
confined to them; it acts in the physical world as well, if we give it the
opportunity. The Master will not waste His strength in forcing a stream
of His energy down into the dense matter of this lower world, because to do that
would not be good spiritual economics; it would not be utilising that amount of
energy to the best advantage. But if a man already living in our lower world so
arranges his life as to make himself a fit channel for that energy, the position
is altered, and it becomes worth the Master' s while to make an effort which
would not otherwise have been remunerative.
1217.
We have to remember that a channel must be open at both ends, not at one
end only. The higher end of our channel consists in the devotion and
unselfishness of the man, in the very fact that he is anxious to be used, and is
ordering his life for that purpose. The lower end is the man' s physical body,
through which the influence must pass out, and this also needs careful
attention, in order that it may not befoul the stream which the Master sends.
1218.
Remember that we are dealing with no vague abstraction, but with a
physical though invisible fluid, which permeates the matter of the body and
exudes through the pores of the skin, or is projected from the hands or feet.
Therefore that body must be pure inside, uncontaminated by flesh-foods, alcohol
or tobacco; and it must also be kept scrupulously clean outside by frequent and
thorough ablutions, especial attention being paid to the hands and feet.
Otherwise the fluid, transmuted with so much care from higher planes, will be
polluted as it passes through man, and will fail to achieve the object for which
it was sent.
1219.
Although this force radiates from the worthy student at all times, he can
also gather it up and pour it out with definite intention upon a particular
object. In a previous chapter it was explained how the ordinary man can protect
himself from evil influence when shaking hands, or when surrounded by a crowd;
but the student, instead of protecting himself, will make out of these
unpleasing occurrences opportunities to act upon others. When he shakes hands
with a man, he will send the Master' s power rushing through his extended arm.
The beginner may ask: “How can I do that? And even if I try, how can I be
certain that I have succeeded ?”
1220.
All that is needed here is a firm conviction and an intense resolve-- a
conviction, based upon his study, that this is a thing that can be done, and the
intense resolve to do it, which comes from his deep devotion to the Master and
his earnest desire to do His will. Success in all magical efforts depends upon
the absolute confidence of the operator; a man who doubts his own capacity has
already failed. So that all that is necessary is that he should mingle with the
hearty welcome which he extends to his visitor the strong thought: “I give you
herewith the love of the Master.” In the same way, when he finds himself in a
crowd, he will spread among the people that same influence of the Master' s
love; and that outpouring will be for him a far better protection than any
shell.
1221.
THE MANUFACTURE OF TALISMANS
1222.
Another use which can be made of this force is to charge certain objects
with it, thereby converting them into talismans. I have written before of the
effects producible by such charms; I speak now of the process of their
manufacture. The more advanced branches of this art require definite knowledge,
obtainable only by an extended course of study; but any earnest man can make a
temporary talisman which will be of great use to one who needs help.
1223.
One who is accustomed to the work can perform any ordinary process of
magnetisation or demagnetisation practically instantaneously by the mere
exertion of his will; but the beginner usually finds it necessary to help
himself in the concentration of his will by thinking carefully of the various
stages of the process and using the appropriate gestures. Suppose, for example,
that it is desirable to magnetise some small body (such as a ring, a locket, a
penholder) in order to make it an amulet against fear; what is the easiest
method of procedure?
1224.
Realise first exactly what is wanted. We wish to load that body with
etheric, astral and mental matter heavily charged with a particular set of
undulations-- those of courage and confidence. The trained occultist would
gather together each of those levels such types of matter as will most easily
receive and retain vibrations of just that character; the beginner, knowing
nothing, of that, must use whatever material comes to hand and so will have to
expend a greater amount of force than would be exerted by his more experienced
brother.
1225.
The making of an amulet may be likened to the writing of an inscription,
and the acquisition of the right kind of matter corresponds to obtaining a
perfect surface on which to write. The beginner, who cannot do this must write
with greater labour and less perfection of result upon the surface that happens
to be available. The first difficulty that confronts him is that his sheet is
not even a blank one; his paper already bears an inscription, which must be
removed before he can use it. If, the ring or locket has been worn by anyone, it
is already full of the magnetism of that person-- magnetism which may be better
or may be worse than that of the student, but is at any rate different from it,
and so is an obstacle-- just as any kind of writing, however good, which already
fills a sheet of paper, stands in the way of its use for further writing. Even
if the ring or pen-holder be quite new, it is likely to contain something of the
special magnetism either of the maker or of the seller; so in any case the first
thing is to remove whatever may be there-- to obtain a clear sheet for our
inscription. There are various methods by which this may be done; let me
describe a simple one.
1226.
Rest the tip of the forefinger of the right hand against the end of the
thumb, so as to make a ring, and imagine a film of ether stretched across that
ring like the head of a drum. Will strongly that such a film should be
made, and remember that that very effort of the will does make it,
although you cannot see it. Remember also that it is essential to the success of
the experiment that you should be quite certain of this fact-- that your
previous study should have convinced you that the human will has the power to
arrange subtle matter in this or any other way.
1227.
Then, keeping your attention firmly fixed upon that film, so as to hold
it quite rigid, pass slowly through it the object to be demagnetised, and by so
doing you will cleanse it entirely of the etheric part of its previous
magnetism. I do not mean that you will leave it without etheric matter, but that
every particle of such matter will be swept out and replaced; just as, if a tube
is filled with gas and one blows strongly into one end of it, all the gas is
driven out; but the tube is not therefore empty, as the pressure of the
surrounding air immediately refills it. So the specially charged ether is
dredged out of the locket or pen-holder, and its place is taken by the ordinary
ether which interpenetrates the surrounding atmosphere.
1228.
The next step is to let the etheric film dissolve, and replace it by one
of astral matter, through which the object is again passed. The process may be
repeated with a film of mental matter, and we shall then have the object
entirely free on all three planes from any sort of specialised magnetism-- a
clean sheet, in fact, upon which we can write what we will. After a certain
amount of practice the student can make a combined film containing etheric,
astral and mental matter, so as to perform the whole operation by passing the
object once through the ring.
1229.
The operator must then exercise all his strength to fill himself with the
qualities which he wishes the amulet to convey (in this case fearlessness and
self-reliance), excluding for the moment all thought of other attributes and
becoming the living incarnation of these. Then, when he has thus wound himself
up to his highest level of enthusiasm, let him take the object in his left hand,
or lay it on the table in front of him, and pour magnetism on it through the
fingers of his right hand, all the time willing with his utmost strength that it
shall be filled with the very essence of valour, calmness and intrepidity.
1230.
It will probably help him in concentration if, while doing this, he
repeats to himself firmly again and again such words as: “Courage, confidence,
in the Name of the Master,” “Where this object is, may no fear enter,” or any
others expressing a similar idea. Let him do this for a few minutes, never
allowing his attention to swerve for a moment, and he need have no shade of
doubt that he has made a really effective talisman.
1231.
This process will probably occupy the tyro for some time, but a man who
is accustomed to it does it quickly and easily. The trained occultist makes
constant use of this power as a means of helping those with whom he comes into
contact; he never despatches a letter, or even a postcard, without thinking what
good gift of refreshing, consoling or strengthening magnetism he can send with
it. He has at his command many other ways of making a talisman besides that
which I have described; perhaps it may help towards a fuller comprehension of
the subject if I enumerate some of them, even though they are quite beyond the
reach of the ordinary student.
1232.
VARIETIES OF TALISMANS
1233.
Amulets are of all sorts and kinds-- literally many thousands of kinds--
but they may be arranged for our purposes into four classes, which we will call
respectively general, adapted, ensouled and linked.
1234.
General. The method which I have suggested above produces a
talisman of this description. The trained man naturally obtains with less labour
a better result, not only because he knows how to use his will effectively, but
because he has learnt to select the most suitable materials; consequently the
influence of his amulet is stronger, and lasts for many years instead of perhaps
for a few months. This form of talisman is quite simple; its business is to pour
out a steady stream of undulations expressing the quality with which it is
charged, and it will continue to do this with undiminished vigour for a period
the length of which depends upon the force originally put into it.
1235.
2 . Adapted. The adapted amulet is one that has been carefully
prepared to fit a particular person. Its maker studies the man for whom it is
intended, and notes carefully the deficiencies in his mental, astral and etheric
bodies. Then he culls from the matter of the various planes the ingredients of
his talisman, just as a physician selects the drugs to compound into a
prescription, choosing a certain type of essence in order to repress an
undesirable astral tendency, another in order to stimulate the sluggish action
of some defective department of mental activity, and so on. Thus he produces an
amulet accurately adapted to the needs of a particular person, and capable of
doing for that person enormously more than a general talisman can do; but it
would be of little use to anyone else but the man for whom it is intended. It is
like a skillfully-made key with many wards, which exactly fits its lock, but
will not open any other; while a general talisman may be compared to a skeleton
key, which will open many inferior locks, but does not perfectly suit any.
1236.
3 . Ensouled. Sometimes it is desired to establish a centre of
radiation which, instead of acting for a few score years at most, shall continue
its outpouring through the centuries. In this case it is not enough to charge
the selected object with a dose of magnetic force-- for, however large that dose
may be, it must some time be exhausted; to produce this more permanent result we
must bring into play some form of life; and for this purpose one of two methods
is usually adopted.
1237.
The first is to include in the physical charm a minute fragment of one of
those higher minerals which are sufficiently alive to throw out a ceaseless
stream of particles. When that is done, the store of force poured into the
amulet will last almost indefinitely longer, for instead of radiating steadily
in all directions on its own account, it remains self-contained, and charges
only the particles which pass through it. The work of distribution is thus done
by the mineral, and a vast economy of energy is thereby secured.
1238.
The second plan is so to arrange the ingredients of the talisman as to
make it a means of manifestation for any one of certain comparatively
undeveloped orders of nature-spirits. There are tribes of these creatures which,
though full of energy and strongly desirous to do something with it, cannot
express themselves unless they can find some sort of outlet. It is possible so
to magnetise an amulet as to make it precisely the kind of outlet required, and
thus to ensure the steady outflow through it of a stream of energy at high
pressure, which may last for thousands of years, to the intense delight of the
nature-spirits and the great benefit of all who approach the magnetised centre.
1239.
Linked. The linked talisman differs completely from the other
kinds in one important particular. All those previously described are made and
set going by their creators, and then left to run their course and live their
life, just as a clockmaker constructs a timepiece and then sells it to a
customer and knows no more about it. But the clockmaker sometimes chooses to
remain in touch with his masterpiece, and undertakes to keep it wound and in
order; and this corresponds to the arrangement made in the case of a linked
talisman. Instead of merely loading the object with influence of a certain type,
the operator when he magnetises it brings it into close rapport with
himself, so that it may become a kind of outpost of his consciousness, a sort of
telephone-receiver always connected with him, through which he can reach the
holder or be reached by him.
1240.
An amulet of this type does not work mechanically upon the gyroscope
principle, as the others do; or perhaps I should rather say it has a slight
action of that sort, because it so strongly suggests the presence of it creator
that it often acts as a deterrent, preventing the wearer from doing what he
would not like the maker to see him do; but its principal action is of quite
another kind. It makes a link through which the wearer can at a critical moment
send a cry for help to its builder, who will instantly feel the appeal and
respond by an outpouring of strength of whatever type may be required.
1241.
Its manufacturer can also use it as a channel through which he can send
periodic waves of influence, and so administer a course of treatment-- a kind of
emotional or mental massage. Such a method of handling a case (I believe our
Christian Science friends call it “absent treatment”) may be undertaken without
an amulet, merely by projecting astral and mental currents; but a talisman makes
the work easier, and enables the operator to deal more readily with the etheric
double of the subject.
1242.
Usually the link is made only in the physical, astral and lower mental
worlds, and is therefore confined to the personality of its constructor; but
there are instances when a Great One has chosen to link a physical talisman to
Himself in His causal body, and then its influence lasts through the ages. This
was done in the case of the physical objects buried at various points of future
importance by Apollonius of Tyana.
1243.
DEMAGNETISATION
1244.
It not infrequently occurs that it is desirable to demagnetise objects
which are larger than those instanced above. In such cases one may hold the two
hands at the requisite distance apart, and imagine a broad band of etheric
matter extending between them, with which the previous magnetism can be dredged
out as before. Another plan is to hold the two hands one on each side of the
object, and send a strong stream of etheric matter through it from one hand to
the other, thus washing away the undesired influence. The same force can often
be employed in the same way to relieve pain. A headache, for example, is usually
either caused or accompanied by a congestion of etheric matter in the brain, and
it can often be cured by that same plan of putting the hands one on each side of
the sufferer' s temples and washing away the congested matter by an effort of
the will.
1245.
Another use to which the power of demagnetisation can be put is to clear
objectionable influences out of a room. One may have a visitor who leaves an
unpleasant atmosphere behind him; or one may find uncomfortable astral
conditions prevailing in one' s apartment at a hotel; and if such an emergency
arises, it is useful to know how to deal with it. One practised in these mild
forms of magic would manage the business in a few moments by the exercise of his
trained will; but the younger student will probably find it better to employ
intermediate means, precisely as the Catholic Church does.
1246.
The cubic content of even a small room is too great for the employment of
the dredging tactics previously recommended, so we must invoke the great
principle of sympathy and antipathy, and set up within the room a series of
vibrations so hostile to the evil influence that the latter is dominated or
driven forth. To create such an undulation is not difficult; but means must be
found for spreading it rapidly all over the room. One ready method is the
burning of incense or pastilles; another is sprinkling of water; but both
incense and water must first be passed through the process recommended for the
making of a talisman. Their original magnetism must be removed, and they must be
loaded with the thought of purity and peace. If that be thoroughly done, when
the incense is burned, its particles (each bearing the desired influence) will
quickly be disseminated through every cubic inch of air in the room; or if water
be used and sprinkled about the chamber, each drop of it will at once become a
centre of active radiation. A vaporiser is an even more effective method of
distribution; and if rose-water be used instead of ordinary water, the work of
the student will be considerably facilitated.
1247.
The method of action of these etheric or astral disinfectants is obvious.
The disturbing influence of which we desire to rid ourselves expresses itself in
etheric and astral waves of a certain length. Our magnetic efforts fill the room
with another set of waves, different in length and more powerful, because they
have been intentionally set swinging, which probably the others were not. The
two sets of inharmonious vibrations cannot co-exist, and so the stronger
overpowers and extinguishes the weaker.
1248.
These are some of the ways in which the force that dwells within man, the
force that flows through man, may be used. In this case, as in every other,
knowledge is power, in this case, as in every other, additional power means
additional responsibility and additional opportunity. If you can readily develop
this power, if you can do these things quickly and easily, so much the better
for you, so long as you use this advantage unselfishly, and make the world by
its means a little happier, a little better, a little cleaner as the result of
your efforts.
1249.
DO LITTLE THINGS WELL
1250.
Remember the second maxim-- that everything shall be done as perfectly as
we can do it. Charge your letter with magnetism and make a talisman of it, by
all means; you will do great good thereby; but do not forget that the mere
physical handwriting must be perfect also-- first, out of courtesy to the
recipient, and secondly, because all work done for the Master must be done with
the utmost care, even to the minutest detail. And as all our work is
work for Him, executed in His name and to His glory, that means that nothing
must ever be done carelessly. In this, too, unselfishness may be applied; no one
has the right to cause trouble to another by illegible handwriting-- to save a
few moments of his own time by wasting many minutes of another' s.
1251.
We must not think that because we know more of the hidden side of things
than others, and so are able to add unexpected blessings to daily acts, we are
thereby absolved from doing the ordinary part of those acts to the very best of
our ability. Not worse but better than that of others must our work be, in every
respect and from every point of view, for the honour of the Master whom we
serve. What the work is that He gives us, matters little; that it
should be nobly done matters supremely. And the man who, all his life through,
does the small, daily details well and carefully, will not be found wanting when
some day he suddenly finds himself face to face with a great opportunity.
1252.
The little things in life weigh more than the big things; there are so
many of them, and it is so much more difficult to go on steadily doing them.
Saint Augustine remarked: “Many there be who will die for Christ, but few there
be who will live for Him.” Many of us would instantly and gladly do some great
thing for the Master; but He does not commonly ask for that. He asks us to live
our daily life nobly, not for ourselves but for others; to forget ourselves,
only to remember the good of mankind. Let us then form the habit of
helpfulness-- for it soon becomes a habit, like everything else. It certainly
makes life more interesting; and, above all, it brings us every day nearer to
Him.
1253.
WRITING A LETTER
1254.
I mentioned some pages back that an occultist never despatches a letter
without putting into it something of strength and encouragement; but it does not
need person of a great advancement to perform so elementary an act of magic as
this. Anyone may do it with a little trouble, when be understands how these
forces work.
1255.
We all know that when a psychometrist takes a letter into his hand he can
describe the personal appearance of the writer, the condition of his mind at the
time of writing, the room in which he was sitting, any other people who happened
to be present, and even the surrounding scenery.
1256.
It is manifest, therefore, that a letter brings with it much more than
the message written in it, and though only one who is developed as a
psychometrist may be able to sense this with sufficient clearness to reduce it
to actual vision, yet an effect of some sort must obviously be produced even
upon those who do not fully see. The vibrations upon which the psychometrist' s
observations are founded are there, whether there is or is not anyone present
who can see by their means, and they must affect to some extent anyone with whom
they come directly into contact. This being so, we see that here is an
opportunity for the person who understands. The student can learn the operation
of these forces, and can then direct them intelligently as he will.
1257.
Suppose, for example, he wishes to write a letter of condolence and
consolation to some friend who has, as we mistakenly phrase it, ` lost' some one
near and dear to him. We all know the difficulty of writing such a letter. In
attempting it we put upon the paper whatever of solace comes into our minds, and
we try to express it as forcefully and sympathetically as we can, yet we are
conscious all the while that words are impotent in such a case, and that they
can bring but poor comfort to the bereaved one. We feel the futility and
inefficiency of our communication, though we send it because we wish to express
our commiseration, and we know that we ought to do something.
1258.
Such a letter need not be fruitless and unavailing. On the contrary it
may produce the most beneficent effect, and may lead to great alleviation of
suffering. Words often fail us, but our thoughts do not; and in the writing of
such a letter a man' s heart may be filled with the strong wish to bring
encouragement and help, however poorly the written lines may express it. If he
exercises his will he may make that letter bear with it his thought and feeling,
so that they shall react upon the mind and emotions of the recipient, while his
eyes are perusing the manuscript.
1259.
We know that currents of thought and feeling can be sent to the mourner
immediately and without the physical agency of a letter, and one who has no
other pressing work could undoubtedly console and strengthen the sufferer by
pouring upon him a steady stream of such thought and feeling. The writing of the
letter by no means precludes the student from offering efficient help in that
other way as well; but it usefully supplements such work, and carries it on
while the student is otherwise engaged.
1260.
Those who are trying on their small scale to help the world soon find
that they have a multitude of cases upon their hands, and that they can work
best by dividing their time between them. The more advanced student will leave
with each such case a puissant thought-form, which will radiate invigoration and
cheerfulness until he can again turn his attention to that case. But one who has
not yet developed his powers to that extent may readily produce an effect almost
equivalent, if he has a physical basis upon which to found the thought-form. A
letter furnishes him with exactly such a basis, and into it he can pour healing
and strengthening forces until it becomes a veritable talisman. If the writer
thinks strongly of his sympathy and affection, and wills earnestly to charge the
letter with this thought and feeling, it will assuredly bear this message for
him. When it reaches its destination the friend who opens it will naturally
recognise the kindly intention of the sender, and by that very recognition will
open himself towards the influence, and adopt unconsciously a recipient
attitude. As he reads the written message, the helpful thoughts and feelings are
playing all the while upon his mind and emotions, and the effect produced upon
him will be out of all proportion to the mere physical words.
1261.
The action of the letter does not cease here. The recipient reads it,
lays it aside and perhaps forgets it, but its vibrations are nevertheless
steadily radiating, and they continue to influence him long after the letter
itself has passed from his mind. If he happens to put the letter in his pocket
and carry it about with him, its influence upon him will naturally be closer and
stronger; but in any case such a letter of helpfulness and good intention will
fill the whole room with peace and comfort, so that the mourner will feel its
effect whenever he enters his chamber, however unconscious he may be as to its
source.
1262.
Obviously it is not only for consolation that this power can be employed.
A mother, who feels uneasy as to the temptations which may surround an absent
son, may send him letters which will encompass him with a halo of purity and
peace, and bear him unconscious and uncontaminated through many a scene of
peril. A multitude of words is not necessary; even a humble postcard may bear
its message of love and strength, and may be a real shield against evil thought,
or an impulse in the direction of good.
1263.
It may occur to some readers that a letter is handled by so many persons
before it reaches its destination that any magnetism that it might bring with it
would necessarily be of mixed character. There is much truth in this; but the
postmen, the sorters and the servants who handle it have no special interest in
it, and consequently such influence as their thoughts may exercise upon it is of
the most superficial character; whereas the writer has intentionally thrown into
it a wealth of feeling which has thoroughly permeated it and is strong enough to
overpower all casual connections of this sort.
1264.
Incidentally this helps us to understand that there is always a
responsibility attached to this action of writing a letter. We may charge our
writing voluntarily with a great force for good, and that needs a special effort
of the will; but even without any special effort, our mood when writing
undoubtedly impresses itself upon the paper, though naturally not so strongly.
If therefore a man be in a condition of irritation or depression when inditing a
letter, these emotions of his will be faithfully mirrored in his work, and the
letter will bear these vibrations with it and radiate them to the recipient,
even though they are not at all intended for him, and the original annoyance or
depression was in no way connected with him. If on the other hand the writer is
serene and happy, a letter for him, even though it be nothing but a curt
business communication, will contain within itself something of these qualities,
and will spread a good influence around it.
1265.
It is therefore exceedingly necessary that a person among whose duties it
comes to write many letters should cultivate serenity and kindliness, and should
endeavour to hold himself in a sympathetic and helpful frame of mind, in order
that his letters should carry with them this good influence. One who is captious
and critical, dictatorial and ill-tempered, is entirely unfit to hold any
secretarial position, as he will inevitably distribute discomfort and dissension
to all those who are so unfortunate as to have to correspond with him.
1266.
The preference which many sentimental people feel for a letter written in
manuscript, rather than for one produced by means of a typewriter, is due to the
fact that in passing the hand again and again over the paper a much greater
amount of personal magnetism is stored in the letter than when the hand does not
come directly into contact with it; though a student of occultism who writes a
letter in type charges it with magnetism by a single effort of his will far more
effectually than it is unconsciously charged when written by the hand of one who
has not learnt these truths.
1267.
The occultist extends this idea in many other directions. Every present
which he gives to a friend is made to produce a far more permanent result than
the mere pleasure that is caused by its arrival. If he gives or lends a book to
some one, he does not forget to add to the arguments of the author his own
earnest desire that the reader' s thoughts may be widened and liberalised. Let
us all try to spread help and blessing in this way; assuredly our efforts will
not fail to bring about their due effect. Every object about us must be a centre
of influence, and we may make its action strong or weak, useful or detrimental.
It is for us therefore to see that whenever we make a present to a friend its
influence shall be powerful and definite, and always for good. These matters are
little studied yet in the outer world, but they represent great truths for all
that. Wise men will pay attention to them and govern their lives accordingly,
and thereby make themselves both far happier and far more useful than those who
are content to remain ignorant of the higher science.
1268.
WORK DURING SLEEP
1269.
One of the most pleasing of the subsidiary points revealed to us by
Theosophical study is that of the possibility of usefully employing the hours
during which the body is sleeping. I well remember in my younger days how
fiercely I resented the necessity of spending time in sleep when there was such
an overwhelming amount of work to be done, and how I consequently tried to
minimise the time devoted to this. Being healthy and hardy, for some years I
managed to exist on only four hours of sleep each night, and thought that I was
thereby gaining time for the work which I had to do. Now that I know more about
it, I realise that I was in error, how that I could actually have increased my
usefulness if I had allowed myself to take an ordinary amount of rest, besides
providing myself with a still stronger body for the work of my later years. But
it was indeed a comfort to me when I found from the Theosophical literature that
only the body is insensible during sleep, and that the real man can continue his
work and indeed do all the more of it, and do it better, because he is
untrammelled by his physical vehicle.
1270.
Yet even Theosophical students, who are quite accustomed to think about
the higher worlds and the possibility of activity in them, often do not realise
how entirely that is the real life, and this in the physical world only
an interlude in it. In our waking consciousness most of us always consider the
diurnal life as real, and the nocturnal or dream life as unreal; but in truth
the very reverse is the case, as may easily be seen if we remember that in
this life most of us know nothing whatever of that , whereas in
that life we remember the whole of this. This life, therefore,
has long daily breaks in its continuity; that is continuous from the
cradle to the grave and beyond it. Furthermore, because during that life the
physical body is for the time laid aside, the ego can manifest much more of
himself. The man in his astral body is much more nearly himself than this
fettered representation of him which is all that we can see down here. When,
later on in our evolution, further development takes place and the man can
function in his mental body, we are another whole stage nearer to the reality;
indeed, beyond that it is only one stage to the manifestation of the ego in his
causal body, having a unified consciousness which extends through all the ages,
from the time when long ago he rose from the animal kingdom to the infinity
which lies before him.
1271.
Let us see then what we can do with this life at night, while we leave
our physical body to its rest. Many forms of activity open before us, and as I
have written fully about them in the book called Invisible Helpers I
will not repeat myself here. I may summarise by saying that during our waking
hours we can help anyone whom we know to be in sorrow or suffering, by sitting
down and forming a clear strong thought-image of the sufferer, and then pouring
out a stream of compassion, affection and strength; but during the night we can
do more than this-- we can carry this treatment further, because we can
ourselves go in the astral body and stand by the bedside of the sufferer, so as
to see exactly what is needed, and give whatever may be specially required by
the particular case, instead of offering merely general comfort and consolation.
1272.
Help and encouragement, can be given not only to the living but also to
the vast host of the dead, and they often seriously need it, owing partly to the
false and wicked religious teaching which is so often given, and partly to the
blank ignorance of other-world conditions which obtains among the general public
on this side of the veil. In such work as this there is infinite variety, yet
even this by no means exhausts the possibilities which open before us. In the
astral world we can both give and receive instruction. From the anonymity of the
astral world we can assist, inspire and advise all sorts of people who would be
unlikely to listen to us physically. We can suggest good and liberal ideas to
ministers and statesmen, to poets and preachers, and to all the many varieties
of writers in books, magazines and newspapers. We can suggest alike plots to
novelists and good ideas to philanthropists. We are free to range wherever we
will and to do whatever work presents itself to us. Incidentally we can visit
all the interesting spots of the world, and see all its most magnificent
buildings and its most lovely scenery; its finest art and its grandest music are
entirely at our disposal, without money and without price, to say nothing, of
the far grander music and the far more splendid colouring of the astral world
itself.
1273.
What can a man do down here to prepare himself to take part in that
higher work? Well, the life is a continuous life, and whatever characteristics a
man shows here in his physical body he will assuredly also show in his astral
body. If here he is full of cheerfulness and always anxious for an opportunity
to do service-- then, even though he may remember nothing of it, he may be quite
confident that he is employing himself usefully to the utmost of his capacity in
the astral realm also. Any limitations of character which show themselves down
here, such as irritability, for example, are certainly contracting the sphere of
his usefulness in the astral world. And so, if a man who does not bring through
any recollection from that life wishes to make quite sure that he is well
employed there and is doing his full duty, he can easily be certain of it by
carefully making his life here such as he knows to be necessary for that
purpose. There is no mystery as to the requirements. Single-mindedness,
calmness, courage, knowledge and love will make a thoroughly useful astral
worker, and all these qualifications are within reach of any man who will take
the trouble to develop them in himself.
1274.
It is not difficult to see why all these are necessary. A man cannot
throw all his energy into such work as this unless the higher life is for him
the one object. Knowledge of the astral world, its habitants and its
characteristics he must have; otherwise he will constantly blunder, and will
find himself helpless before every emergency which arises. Courage he obviously
needs, just as does the man who plunges into unexplored jungles or trusts
himself on the surface of the mighty deep. Calmness also he must have, for
though it is a sufficiently serious matter for a man to loose his temper in the
physical world, it is something infinitely more serious when there is no
physical matter to prevent the full swing of the vibrations of anger. Any
manifestations of irritability, excitement or impatience in the astral world at
once make him a fearsome object, so that those whom he wishes to help fly from
him in terror. Love of humanity, and the consequent earnest desire to help, he
must possess in the fullest degree, for without that he can never have the
patience to deal gently with the panic fear and the unreasoning stupidity which
we so often find among the dead. For many of the cases with which we have to
deal such exceeding gentleness and long-suffering are required that no man,
however energetic and earnest he may be, is of use in dealing with them unless
he is full of real affection and has his vehicles perfectly under control.
1275.
Much work is done in the astral world besides that in which we are most
specially interested. Many physicians visit, during the sleep of the body, cases
in which they are keenly interested or about which they feel anxious. In most
cases the man in the physical body is not conscious of this, but any new
information that he gains from his astral investigations, often comes through as
a kind of intuition into the waking consciousness. I have known doctors who are
able to do this intentionally and in full consciousness, and naturally this
capacity gives them a great advantage over their colleagues. A doctor who dies,
often continues after death to take an interest in his patients, and sometimes
endeavours to cure them from the other side, or to suggest (to his successor in
charge of the case) treatment which, with his newly acquired astral faculty, he
sees would be useful. I knew one doctor (a member of our Society) who
immediately after his death went round to collect all his patients who had
passed over before him, and regularly preached Theosophy to them, so that he now
goes about in the astral world with a large band of attendant disciples.
1276.
I have known many cases also of friendships formed in the astral world.
It often happens, for example, that members of our Society who live at opposite
sides of the world and have no opportunity of meeting physically, yet know one
another well in their astral life. When they are actually on opposite sides of
the world the day of one is the night of the other, but there is generally
sufficient overlapping to make acquaintance possible. Those who are ready and
effective lecturers in the physical world usually continue their activities in
that line during sleep. Groups of students continue their meetings and, with the
additional facilities which the astral world gives to them, are frequently able
to solve problems which have presented difficulties down here.
1277.
Not only dead friends but living friends from the other side of the world
are round us all day long, although with our physical eyes we do not see them.
We are never alone, and as in the astral world most thoughts are visible, it
behoves us to bear that fact in mind, lest we should carelessly send out astral
or mental vibrations which would cause pain to those whom we love.
1278.
CHAPTER XXI
1279.
BY COLLECTIVE THOUGHT
1280.
CHURCH HYMNS AND RITUALS
1281.
IN an earlier chapter I have explained how the congregation and the
parishioners are affected by the ceremonies of the Church, and from what was
then said it is not difficult to see how the priest from his side can influence
those about him. He has chosen a position the responsibilities of which are
great, and in order to discharge them properly it is important that he should
know something of the hidden side of things, that he may understand the real
meaning of the services of the Church to which he belongs, and how to order them
aright.
1282.
Much exception has been taken by the ignorant to the statement always
made by the Church that the celebration of the Eucharist is a daily repetition
of the sacrifice of the Christ. But when we understand from the occult point of
view that that sacrifice of the Christ means the descent into matter of the
outpouring of the Second Aspect of Deity, we see that the symbolism is an
accurate one, since the outflow of force evoked by the consecration has a
special and intimate connection with that department of nature which is the
expression of that divine Aspect.
1283.
The priest who comprehends this will not fail to assign to that service
its due position, and will take care to surround its culminating point with
whatever in the way of ritual and music will add to its effect and prepare the
people to take part in it more receptively. Realising also of how tremendous a
mystery he is here the custodian, he will approach its celebration with the
utmost reverence and awe, for though his attitude towards it makes no difference
to the central fact and to its effects, there is no doubt that his deep
devotion, his comprehension and co-operation can bring down an additional
influence which will be of the greatest help to his congregation and his parish.
A priest who has the advantage of being also an occultist has a magnificent
opportunity of widespread usefulness.
1284.
As a student of magic, he appreciates to the full, the effect produced by
music, and knows how to utilise it so as to produce harmonious and powerful
forms. A great deal may be done by inducing the congregation as far as possible
to join in the music of the church. It is impossible that they should do so in
the production of the more elaborate and magnificent forms, which produce
far-reaching effects at higher levels, but they themselves may be helped to an
almost incalculable extent if they can be induced to join heartily in stirring
and well-chosen hymns and chants.
1285.
This has been more fully recognised by the English branch of the Catholic
Church than by the Roman, and a corresponding advantage has been reaped. The
powerful influence of the corresponding advantage has been reaped. The powerful
influence of the processional hymn must not be neglected, for this operates
usefully in all directions; first, by bringing the choir down among the
congregation and moving them slowly through the different sections of it, the
people are greatly encouraged and helped to throw themselves with vigour into
the singing. Secondly, the splendid appearance of a well-organised procession,
the colour and light, the rich banners and splendid vestments, all combine to
fire the imagination, to raise the people' s thoughts above the prosaic level of
ordinary life, and to help their devotion and enthusiasm.
1286.
CONGREGATIONS
1287.
Many of these considerations apply also to ministers of other
denominations. Though they have not the power of the priest which brings them
into touch with the reservoir of force arranged by the Christ for his Church,
they may do a great deal for their congregations, first by their own devotion
and secondly by evoking that of their people. The resources of congregational
music are at their disposal, and if they can work their followers up to the
required level, they also may produce the wonderful results which flow from the
combined devotion of a large number of people.
1288.
A grand outpouring of force, and a magnificent and effective collective
thought-form can thus be made by a gathering of men who join heartily in a
service; but there is generally great difficulty in obtaining this result,
because the members of the average congregation are entirely untrained in
concentration, and consequently the collective thought-form is usually a broken
and chaotic mass, instead of a splendid and organised whole. When it happens
that a number of occult students belong to such an assembly, they can be of
great use to their fellow-worshippers by consciously gathering together the
scattered streams of devotion and welding them into one harmonious and mighty
current. It is evident at once that every member of congregation has here a
definite duty.
1289.
MONASTERIES
1290.
Better results than those produced by an ordinary congregation are
frequently obtained from the united devotions of a body of monks, because they
have gradually trained themselves into something approaching to concentration,
and are also well used to working together. The influence flowing from a
monastery or nunnery of the contemplative order is often beautiful and most
helpful to the whole country-side-- a fact which shows clearly how foolish and
short-sighted is the objection sometimes made by the Protestant that, while the
active orders of monks are at least doing good work among the poor and the sick,
those who adopt a contemplative line are merely dreaming away their lives in
selfish isolation from the rest of the world.
1291.
In most of such monasteries the hours of prayer are strictly observed,
and the effect of this is a regular out-flow of force over the neighbourhood
many times each day. There are some such institutions in which the scheme of
perpetual adoration is carried out before the consecrated Host in the chapel of
the monastery, and in such a case there is a steady and powerful stream always
pouring out, both night and day, bringing to the surrounding country a benefit
which can hardly be overestimated.
1292.
EFFECT UPON THE DEAD
1293.
The effect produced in all these cases is far wider than the ordinary
thinker realises. The young student of occultism, if he does not happen to be
clairvoyant, sometimes finds it difficult to remember that the host of the
unseen is so much greater than the number of the seen, and that therefore the
people who benefit by church services or by outpourings of collective thought
and feeling are not only the living but also the dead-- not only human beings
even, but great hosts of nature-spirits and of the lower orders of the angels.
Naturally, whatever feeling may be aroused in them reacts upon us in turn, so
that many different factors combine to strengthen us when we make any effort for
good.
1294.
The Christian Church directs some of her efforts intentionally towards
her departed members, and prayers and masses for the dead are a great feature of
the life in Catholic countries. A most useful feature certainly; for not only do
the good wishes and the outpourings of force reach and help those at whom they
are aimed, but also the formation of such prayers and wishes is a good and
charitable undertaking for the living, besides providing them with a
satisfactory and consolatory outlet for their feelings in the shape of doing
something to help the departed instead of merely mourning for them.
1295.
SAVING SOULS
1296.
Hundreds of good and earnest people are putting a great deal of strength
and devotion into efforts (as they put it) to “save souls”-- which to them
generally means imprisoning people within the limits of some particularly narrow
and uncharitable sect. Fortunately, their endeavours in this particular
direction are not often successful. But we must not suppose that all their
energy and thought for others is therefore necessarily wasted. It does not do
half the good that it would if it were intelligently directed; but such as it
is, it is unselfish and kindly meant, and so it brings down a certain amount of
response from higher levels, which is poured upon both the petitioner and the
object of his prayers. If the suppliant be earnest and free from conceit, Nature
answers the spirit rather than the letter of such a request, and brings general
good and advancement to its object without also inflicting upon him the curse of
a narrow theology.
1297.
PEOPLE WHO DISLIKE CEREMONIES
1298.
There are in the world many people so constituted that ceremonies of any
sort do not appeal to them. It may be asked what kind of provision Nature makes
for them, and how they are compensated for their inability to appreciate or to
share in the benefits of these various lines of ecclesiastical influence of
which I have written. First to a considerable extent they do share in the
benefit of them, though they would probably be the last people to admit it.
Perhaps they never enter churches; but I have already described how these
influences radiate far beyond the mere buildings, and how the vibrations are
sent out on all levels, and consequently have something which affects all
varieties of people.
1299.
Still, it is clear that such men miss a good deal which the others may
gain if they will; what sources then are open to them from which they may obtain
corresponding advance? They cannot well gain the same uplifting-- nor, I
suppose, would they desire it; but they may gain a mental stimulus. Just as the
thought of the great saint, radiating out all round him, arouses devotion in
those who are capable of feeling it, so does the thought of the great man of
science, or of anyone who is highly developed intellectually, radiate out upon
the mental level and affect the minds of others, so far as they are capable of
responding to it. Its action stimulates mental development, though it does not
necessarily act so directly upon the character and disposition of the man as
does the other influence.
1300.
Perfect knowledge must make for goodness of life as much as perfect
devotion; but we are as yet so far from perfection that in practical life we
have to deal rather with the intermediate or even elementary stages, and it
seems clear that elementary knowledge is less likely on the whole to affect the
character than elementary devotion. Both are necessary, and before Adeptship is
reached both must be acquired in their entirety; but at present we are so
partially developed that the vast majority of men are aiming at one and to some
extent neglecting the other-- I mean, of course, the majority of those men who
are trying at all, for the greater part of the world has not arrived as yet at
recognising the necessity for either knowledge or devotion. The only
organisation, in western countries at least, which fully meets and satisfies
man' s requirements along both these lines appears to me to be the Theosophical
Society, and its meetings, small and unimportant though they may seem to an
outsider, are capable when properly managed of radiating a powerful influence
which will be exceedingly useful to the community.
1301.
THEOSOPHICAL MEETINGS
1302.
A meeting may produce most important results, not only for those who take
part in it, but for their unconscious neighbours. But in order that it may do
this, the members must understand the hidden side of their meeting, and must
work with a view to produce the highest possible effects. Many members utterly
overlook this most important part of their work, and have in consequence quite
an unworthy idea of what the work of a Lodge is.
1303.
I have sometimes heard a member frankly confess that the Lodge meetings
are often rather dull, and so he does not always attend them. A member who makes
such a remark has not grasped the most rudimentary facts about the work of the
Lodge; he evidently supposes that it exists for the purpose of amusing him, and
if its meetings are not interesting to him he thinks that he is better off at
home. The excuse for such an attitude (if there is an excuse) is that through
many lives, and probably through the earlier part of this life, such a man has
been looking at everything entirely from the outside and from the selfish point
of view, and he is only now gradually accustoming himself to the true and higher
standpoint-- the common-sense attitude which takes account of all the factors,
the higher as well as the lower and less important.
1304.
The person who attends a meeting for the sake of what he can get, or to
be entertained there, is thinking of himself only and not of his Lodge or of the
Society. We should join the Society not for anything that we get from it, but
because, having satisfied ourselves of the truth of what it proclaims, we are
anxious to spread that truth to others as far as possible. If we are merely
selfish in regard to this matter, we can buy the Theosophical books and study
them without belonging to the Society at all. We join it for the sake of
spreading the teaching, and for the sake of understanding it better by
discussing it with those who have spent years in trying to live it. We who
belong to it do get a good deal from it, in the way of instruction and of help
in understanding difficult points, of brotherly feeling and of kindly thought.
1305.
I know that I have received much of all these things during my thirty
years of membership, but I am quite sure that if I had joined the Society with
the idea of getting something out of it, I should not have gained half of what I
have. In my experience of the Society I have seen over and over again that the
person who comes in with the idea “What shall I get?” gains little, because so
far as the flowing of higher forces goes he is a cul-de-sac ; he is
what plumbers call a “dead end,” out of which nothing is running. What can there
be in the dead end of a pipe but a little stagnant water? But if the pipe be
open and the water flows freely, then a vast amount may pass through.
1306.
In the same way, if members come to a meeting, thinking all the time
about themselves, and how they like what is said or done, they assuredly gain
but little good from it, compared to what they might gain if their attitude were
more rational. No doubt such people have spasms of unselfishness; but that is
insufficient. The whole life of a member ought to be devoted to trying to fill
his place well, and to do his duty to the utmost of his power. Therefore, being
a member of the Society and of a Lodge, he has his duty to do from that point of
view also. If a member says that Lodge meetings are dull, one always feels
inclined to begin by asking him: “What are you doing to allow them to be dull?
You are there also and it is your business to see that things are kept going as
far as may be.” If each individual member feels resting upon him the duty of
trying to make each meeting a success, it will be much more likely to succeed
than if he goes there just to be amused or even merely to be instructed.
1307.
Let us consider then the hidden side of the meeting of a Theosophical
Lodge.
1308.
For the purposes of our illustration I will take the ordinary weekly
meetings, at which the Lodge is prosecuting its definite line of study. I am
referring to the meetings of members of the Lodge only, for the occult effect
which I wish to describe is impossible in connection with any meetings to which
non-members are admitted.
1309.
Naturally the work of every Lodge has its public side. There are lectures
given to the public, and opportunities offered for their questions; all this is
good and necessary. But every Lodge which is worthy of the name is also doing
something far higher than any work in the physical world, and this higher work
can only be done by virtue of its own private meetings. Furthermore, it can be
done only if these private meetings are properly conducted and entirely
harmonious. If the members are thinking of themselves in any way-- if they have
personal vanity, such as might show itself in the desire to shine or to take a
prominent part in the proceeding; if they have other personal feelings, so that
they would be capable of taking offence or of being affected by envy or
jealousy-- no useful occult effect can possibly be produced. But if they have
forgotten themselves in the earnest endeavour to comprehend the subject
appointed for study, a considerable and beneficial result, of which they usually
have no conception, may readily be produced. Let me explain the reason of this.
1310.
We will assume a series of meetings at which a certain book is being used
for study. Every member knows beforehand what paragraph or page will be taken at
the approaching meeting, and it is expected that he shall take the trouble to
prepare himself to bear his part in it intelligently. He must not be in the
attitude of the young nestling, waiting with open mouth and expecting that
someone else will feed him; on the contrary, every member should have an
intelligent comprehension of the subject which is to be considered, and should
be prepared to contribute his share of information with regard to it.
1311.
A good plan is for each member of the circle to make himself responsible
for the examination of certain of our Theosophical books-- one taking the first
volume of The Secret Doctrine, let us say, another the second, another
the third, another The Ancient Wisdom, another Esoteric Buddhism,
and so on. Some of the members could easily take two or three of the smaller
books, and on the other hand, if the Lodge be large enough, a volume of The
Secret Doctrine might very well be divided among several members, each
taking up a hundred or a hundred and fifty pages. The exact subject to be
considered at the next meeting is announced at the previous one, and each member
makes himself responsible for looking carefully through the book or books
committed to his charge for any reference to it, so that when he comes to the
meeting he is already possessed of any information about it which is contained
in that particular book, and is prepared to contribute this when called upon. In
this way every member has his work to do, and each is greatly helped to a full
and clear comprehension of the matter under consideration, because all present
are thus earnestly fixing their thought upon it. When the meeting opens, the
chairman will first appoint some one to read the passage chosen for study, and
will then ask each member in turn what, if anything, his book has to say which
bears upon it. After all have thus borne their part, questions may be asked and
any points which are not quite clear may be discussed. If any question arises
which the older members present do not feel themselves fully competent to
answer, it should be written out and sent to the Headquarters of the Society.
1312.
If some such plan as that be adopted, no one will have reason to complain
of the dullness of the meetings, for every member will exert himself to bear his
own part in each of them. Each must go to the meeting in a spirit of
helpfulness, thinking of what he can contribute and in what way he can be
useful, for upon the attitude of mind much depends.
1313.
Let us consider what effect such a meeting will produce upon the
neighbourhood in which it is held. We have already noted that a Church service
is a powerful centre of influence; how does a Theosophical meeting act in this
respect?
1314.
To understand that, recall for a moment what has been said as to the
action of thought. The thought-wave may be generated at various levels of the
mental body. A selfish thought uses the lowest kind of mental matter, while an
unselfish thought, or an attempt to comprehend some elevated idea, uses the
higher kinds only. An intense effort at the realisation of the abstract-- an
attempt to comprehend what is meant by the fourth dimension or by the tabularity
of a table-- means, if successful, a dawning activity of the causal body; while
if the thought is mingled with unselfish affection, with high aspiration or
devotion, it is even possible that a vibration of the intuitional world may
enter into it and multiply its power a hundredfold.
1315.
The distance to which a thought-wave can radiate effectively, depends
partly upon its nature and partly upon the opposition with which it meets. Waves
in the lower types of astral matter are usually soon deflected or overwhelmed by
a multitude of other vibrations at the same level, just as in the midst of the
roar of a great city a soft sound is entirely drowned.
1316.
For this reason the ordinary self-centred thought of the average man,
which begins on the lowest of the mental levels, and instantly plunges down to
correspondingly low levels of the astral, is comparatively ineffective. Its
power in both the worlds is limited, because, however violent it may be, there
is such an immense and turbulent sea of similar thought surging all around that
its waves are inevitably soon lost and overpowered in that confusion. A thought
generated at a higher level, however, has a much clearer field for its action,
because at present the number of thoughts producing such waves is very small--
indeed, Theosophical thought is almost a class by itself from this point of
view. There are religious people whose thought is quite as elevated as ours, but
never so precise and definite; there are large numbers of people whose thoughts
on matters of business and money-making are as precise as could be desired, but
they are not elevated or altruistic. Even scientific thought is scarcely ever in
the same class as that of the true Theosophist, so that our students have
practically a field to themselves in the mental world.
1317.
The result of this is that when a man thinks on Theosophical subjects, he
is sending out all round him a wave which is powerful because it is practically
unopposed, like a sound in the midst of a vast silence, or a light shining forth
on the darkest night. It sets in motion a level of mental matter which is as yet
but rarely used, and the radiations which are caused by it impinge upon the
mental body of the average man at a point where it is quite dormant. This gives
to such thought its peculiar value, not only to the thinker but to others round
him; for its tendency is to awaken and to bring into use an entirely new part of
the thinking apparatus. Such a wave does not necessarily convey Theosophical
thought to those who are ignorant of it; but in awakening this higher portion of
the mental body, it tends to elevate and liberalise the man' s thought as a
whole, along whatever lines it may be in the habit of moving, and in this way
produces an incalculable benefit.
1318.
If the thought of a single man produces these results, the thought of
twenty or thirty people directed to the same subject will achieve an effect
enormously greater. The power of the united thought of a number of men is always
far more than the sum of their separate thoughts; it would be much more nearly
represented by their product. So it will be seen that, even from this point of
view alone, it is an exceedingly good thing for any city or community that a
Theosophical Lodge should be constantly meeting in its midst, for its
proceedings, if they are conducted in a proper spirit, cannot but have a
distinctly elevating and ennobling effect upon the thought of the surrounding
population. Naturally there are many people whose minds cannot yet be awakened
at all upon those higher levels; but even for them the constant beating of the
waves of this more advanced thought at least brings nearer the time of their
awakening.
1319.
Nor must we forget the result produced by the formation of definite
thought-forms. These also are radiated from the centre of activity, but they can
affect only such minds as are already to some extent responsive to ideas of this
nature. In these days, however, there are many such minds, and our members can
attest the fact that after they have been discussing such a question as
reincarnation it not infrequently happens that they are themselves asked for
information upon that subject by persons whom they had not previously supposed
to be interested in it. The thought-form is capable of conveying the exact
nature of the thought to those who are somewhat prepared to receive it, whereas
the thought-vibration, though it reaches a far wider circle, is much less
definite in its action.
1320.
Here is already a momentous effect upon the mental level, produced quite
unintentionally by our members in the ordinary course of their study-- something
far greater in reality than their intentional efforts in the way of propaganda
are ever likely to produce. But this is not all, for by far the most important
part is yet to come. Every Lodge of this Society is a centre of interest to the
Great Masters of the Wisdom, and when it works well and loyally Their thoughts
and those of Their pupils are frequently turned towards it. In this way a force
more exalted than our own may often shine out from our gatherings, and an
influence of inestimable value may be focused where, so far as we know, it would
not otherwise specially rest. This may indeed seem the ultimate limit which our
work can attain; yet there is something beyond even this.
1321.
All students of the occult are aware that the Life and Light of the Deity
flood the whole of His system-- that in every world, at every level, is
outpoured from Him that especial manifestation of His strength which is
appropriate to it. Naturally, the higher the world, the less veiled is His
glory, because as we ascend we are drawing nearer to its Source. Normally the
force outpoured in each world is strictly limited to it; but it can descend into
and illuminate a lower level if a special channel be prepared for it.
1322.
Such a channel is always provided whenever any thought or feeling has an
entirely unselfish aspect. The selfish emotion moves in a closed curve, and so
brings its own response on its own level; the utterly unselfish emotion is an
outrush of energy which does not return, but in its upward movement provides a
channel for a downpouring of divine Power from the level next above, which is
the reality lying at the back of the old idea of the answer to prayer.
1323.
To a clairvoyant this channel is visible as a great vortex, a kind of
gigantic cylinder or funnel. This is the nearest we can come to explaining it in
the physical world, but it does not really give at all an adequate idea of its
appearance, for as the force flows down through the channel it somehow makes
itself one with the vortex, and issues from it coloured by it, and bearing with
it distinctive characteristics which show through what channel it has come.
1324.
Such a channel can be made only if all the thought is earnest and
harmonious. I do not mean that there must be no discussion at the meetings, but
that all such discussion must invariably be of the most friendly character, and
conducted with the fullest brotherly feeling. We must never suppose that a man
differs from us is necessarily weak in thought or uncomprehending. There are
always at least two sides to every question, so that the man who disagrees may
often simply be seeing another side. If that is so, we may gather something from
him and he something from us, and in that way we may do each other good; but if
we become angry over a discussion we do each other harm and the harmony of the
thought-waves is lost. One such thought as that so often spoils a beautiful
effect. I have seen that happen many times-- a number of people working along
quite happily and building up a beautiful channel; suddenly some one of them
will say something unkind or personal, and then in a moment the thing breaks up,
and the opportunity to help is lost.
1325.
Whenever anyone is speaking, or reading a paragraph, or trying to do
anything helpful, try for the time to help him, and do not be everlastingly
thinking how much better you could do it yourself. Do not criticise, but give
him the aid of your thought. You may afterwards enquire as to any points that
are not clear, but do not at the time send a hostile or critical thought against
him, because if you do you may interfere with the sequence of his thought and
spoil his lecture. Make a mental note of any point about which you wish to ask,
but for the time try to see what good there is in what he says, as in that way
you will strengthen him.
1326.
A clairvoyant sees the current of thought flowing out from the lecturer,
and other currents of comprehension and appreciation rising from the audience
and joining with it; but critical thought meets it with an opposing rate of
vibration, breaks up the stream, and throws it all into confusion. One who sees
this influence in action will find these considerations so forcibly impressed
upon him that he is little likely to forget them and act contrary to them. The
helpful thoughts of members of his audience tend to make a lecturer' s
presentation clearer, and to impress it upon those to whom it is not familiar.
For this reason members should be present even at public lectures upon the most
elementary subjects delivered by their fellows, in order that they, who
understand thoroughly, may help the lecturer by making clear thought-forms
connected with his subject, which will impress themselves upon the minds of the
public who are trying to understand.
1327.
The man who is occupied in the earnest study of higher things is for the
time lifted entirely out of himself, and generates a powerful thought-form in
the mental world, which is immediately employed as a channel by the force
hovering in the world next above. When a body of men join together in a thought
of this nature, the channel which they make is out of all proportion larger in
its capacity than the sum of their separate channels; and such a body of men is
therefore an inestimable blessing to the community amidst which it works, for
through them (even in their most ordinary meetings for study, when they are
considering such subjects as rounds and races and planetary chains) there may
come an outpouring into the lower mental world of that force which is normally
peculiar to the higher mental; while if they turn their attention to the higher
side of the Theosophical teaching, and study such questions of ethics and of
soul-development as we find in At the Feet of the Master, Light on the Path,
The Voice of the Silence and our other devotional books, they may make a
channel of more elevated thought through which the force of the intuitional
world itself may descend into the mental, and thus radiate out an influence for
good upon many a soul who would not be in the least open to the action of that
force if it had remained on its original level.
1328.
This is the real and the greatest function of a Lodge of the Theosophical
Society-- to furnish a channel for the distribution of the Divine Life; and thus
we have another illustration to show us how far greater is the unseen than the
seen. To the dim physical eye all that is visible is a small band of humble
students meeting weekly in the earnest endeavour to learn and to qualify
themselves to be of use to their fellow-men; but to those who can see more of
the world, from this tiny root there springs a glorious flower, for no less than
four mighty streams of influence are radiating from that seemingly insignificant
centre-- the stream of thought-waves, the cluster of thought-forms, the
magnetism of the Masters of the Wisdom, and the mighty torrent of the Divine
Energy.
1329.
Here also is an instance of the eminently practical importance of a
knowledge of the unseen side of life. For lack of such knowledge many a member
has been lax in the performance of his duty, careless as to his attendance at
Lodge meetings; and thus he has lost the inestimable privilege of being part of
a channel for the Divine Life. Such a man has not yet grasped the elementary
fact that he joined not to receive but to give, not to be interested and amused,
but to take his share in a mighty work for the good of mankind.
1330.
CHAPTER XXII
1331.
BY OUR RELATION TO CHILDREN
1332.
FROM the Theosophic standpoint the subject of our relation to children is
an exceedingly important and practical one. If we realise the purpose for which
the ego descends into incarnation, and if we know to how great an extent its
attainment of that purpose depends upon the training given to its various
vehicles during their childhood and growth, we cannot but feel that a tremendous
responsibility attaches to all who are in any way connected with children,
whether as parents, elder relatives, or teachers. It is well, therefore, that we
should consider what hints Theosophy can give us as to the way in which we can
best discharge this responsibility.
1333.
What is the present condition of our relation to children-- to boys, at
any rate-- here in the midst of our European civilisation? The practical result
of nineteen centuries of ostensibly Christian teaching is that our boys live
among us as an alien race, with laws and rules of life of their own, entirely
different from ours, and with a code of morals of their own, also entirely
different from that by which we consider ourselves bound. They regard grown-up
people (in the mass) with scarcely veiled hostility, or, at the best, with a
kind of armed neutrality, and always with deep distrust, as foreigners whose
motives are incomprehensible to them, and whose actions are perpetually
interfering in the most unwarrantable and apparently malicious manner with their
right to enjoy themselves in their own way.
1334.
This may sound rather a startling statement to those who have never
considered the matter, but any parent who has boys at one of our large schools
will appreciate the truth of it; and if he can look back to his own school-days,
and in thought realise once more the feelings and conditions of that period
(which most of us have so entirely forgotten), he will recognise, perhaps with a
start of surprise, that it is not an inaccurate description of what his own
attitude once was.
1335.
Whenever the laws and customs of this race (living among us, yet not us)
differ from ours, they are invariably a reversion to an earlier type, and tend
in the direction of primitive savagery-- a fact which might be cited in support
of the Theosophical theory that in each incarnation, before the ego has acquired
control of his vehicles, the earlier stages of our evolution are hurriedly run
through once more. The only right recognised among them is the right of the
strongest; the boy who rules their little State is not the best boy, nor the
cleverest boy, but the one who can fight best; and their leadership is usually
decided by combat, just as it is to this day among many a savage tribe.
1336.
Their code of morals is distinctly their own, and though it cannot be so
directly paralleled among primitive races as some of their other customs, it is
decidedly on a lower level than even our own. To oppress and ill-treat the weak,
and even torture them to the utmost limit of endurance, seems to be thought a
comparatively innocent form of recreation, and it would be only an unusually
severe case which would arouse even a passing manifestation of public opinion
against the offender. The theft of money is, happily, regarded as contemptible,
but the theft of fruit or jam is not; nor, indeed, would the stealing of
anything eatable be considered criminal. Falsehood of the most outrageous kind
is considered as not only allowable but amusing, when practised upon some
too-credulous youngster; if restored to in order to conceal from an adult the
misdeeds of a fellow-criminal, it is often looked upon as heroic and noble. But
the most heinous crime of all-- the very lowest abyss of turpitude-- is to call
in the intervention of a grown-up person to right even the most flagrant wrongs;
and many a weak and nervous child endures agonies both physically and mentally
from the barbarity of bullies without breathing a word of his sufferings either
to parent or teacher-- so deep is the distrust with which public opinion amongst
boys regards the hostile race of adults.
1337.
In spite of the terrible suffering which it frequently entails upon the
weak and sensitive boy, I am in no way blind to the good side of public-school
life-- to the courage and self-reliance, which it gives to the strong and hardy
lad, and the training in the command of the others with which it provides the
members of its higher forms. I suppose that England is the only country on earth
where the maintenance of order in the small world of school life can be (and is)
left practically in the hands of the boys themselves, and there is much in this
to be highly commended; but I am at present concerned with the relations between
boys as a class and adults as a class, and it can hardly be denied that on the
whole these are somewhat strained, the distrust of which I have spoken on the
one side being frequently met by dislike and entire want of comprehension on the
other.
1338.
Many a man (or woman) thinks of boys only as noisy, dirty, greedy,
clumsy, selfish and generally objectionable; and he never realises that there
may be a good deal of selfishness in this point of view of his, and that if any
part of his indictment is true, the fault is not so much in the boys themselves
as in the unreasonable way in which they have been brought up; furthermore, that
in any case his duty is not to widen the chasm between them and himself by
adopting an attitude of dislike and distrust, but rather to endeavour to improve
the position of affairs by judicious kindness and hearty, patient friendliness
and sympathy.
1339.
Surely there is something wrong about such unsatisfactory relations;
surely some improvement might be brought about in this unfortunate condition of
mutual hostility and mistrust. There are honourable exceptions; there are boys
who trust their masters, and masters who trust their boys, and I myself have
never found any difficulty in winning the confidence of the juveniles by
treating them properly; but in a sadly large number of instances the case is as
I have described it.
1340.
That it need not be so is shown, not only by the exceptions mentioned
above, but by the condition of affairs which we find existing in some Oriental
lands. I have not yet had the pleasure of visiting the Empire of Japan, but I
hear from those who have been there and have made some study of this question,
that there is no country in the world where children are so well and so sensibly
treated-- where their relations with their elders are so completely
satisfactory. Harshness, it is said, is entirely unknown, yet the children in no
way presume upon the gentleness of the older people.
1341.
Indeed, no properly treated child ever does or ever would so presume in
any country. If he could do so, it would be a clear indication that the adult
had failed in his management. All harshness in the treatment of children is a
relic of savagery; it may be that when we were at the level of the stone-age we
knew no better, but in these days of supposed enlightenment it is simply
criminal. The intentional infliction of pain upon any living creature is one of
the most serious of sins, and the karma which follows upon it is of the most
appalling character. The suggestion that it is intended to produce a good result
is no excuse whatever; in this case, as in all others, it can never be right to
do evil that good may come. And that quite apart from the fact that good never
does come. Nothing but the most horrible evil results from the common delusion
on this subject.
1342.
The whole thing is an abomination which cries to heaven for a remedy,
just as is the ghastly, ceaseless slaughter of animals in order that men may
degrade themselves by putting into their bodies a peculiarly unsuitable and
objectionable form of food. In both these case-- the ill-treatment of children
and the slaughter of animals-- we, in England, are in a condition of absolute
barbarism; and the men of the future, looking back upon this time, will find it
impossible to understand how such utterly horrible practices could co-exist with
the knowledge of philosophy, ethics and religion which we possess. Our eyes are
blinded to the wickedness of these things by the glamour of custom; but anyone
who studies the hidden side of things soon learns that custom is an entirely
unreliable guide and that he must face the facts of nature as they are, and not
as ignorant people suppose them to be.
1343.
This almost universal cruelty to children is the reason for the lack of
confidence between them and adults; if we treat them as savages we are doing our
best to induce them to act as savages. The incompetent parent or teacher
pretends that he intentionally injures a child with a view to correcting his
faults; if he knew anything of the real facts of life he would be aware that the
effect of such injury is in every case far worse than that of the fault which he
imagines himself to be trying to correct. His method is so entirely irrational
that it seems to the occultist like the crazy inconsequence of a nightmare-- all
the more so when we think of the vast mass of hatred, hostility and
misunderstanding for which it is responsible.
1344.
But how, it may be asked, is it proposed that this position of mutual
mistrust and misunderstanding should be improved ? Well, it is evident that in
cases where this breach already exists, it can only be bridged over by
unwearying kindness, and by gradual, patient, but constant efforts to promote a
better understanding by steadily showing unselfish affection and sympathy; in
fact, by habitually putting ourselves in the child' s place and trying to
realise exactly how all these matters appear to him. If we, who are adults, had
not so entirely forgotten our own childish days, we should make far greater
allowances for the children of to-day, and should understand and get on with
them much better.
1345.
This is, however, emphatically one of the cases in which the old proverb
holds good, which tells us that prevention is better than cure. If we will but
take a little trouble to begin in the right way with our children from the
first, we shall easily be able to avoid the undesirable state of affairs which
we have been describing. And this is exactly where Theosophy has many a valuable
hint to offer to those who are in earnest in wishing to do their duty by the
young ones committed to their charge.
1346.
THE DUTY OF PARENTS
1347.
The absolute nature of this duty of parents and teachers towards children
must first be recognised. It cannot be too strongly or too repeatedly insisted
upon that parentage is an exceedingly heavy responsibility of a religious
nature, however lightly and thoughtlessly it may often be undertaken. Those who
bring a child into the world make themselves directly responsible to the law of
karma for the opportunities of evolution which they ought to give to that ego,
and heavy indeed will be their penalty if by their carelessness or selfishness
they put hindrances in his path, or fail to render him all the help and guidance
which he has a right to expect from them. Yet how often the modern parent
entirely ignores this obvious responsibility; how often a child is to him
nothing but a cause of fatuous vanity or an object of thoughtless neglect!
1348.
If we want to understand our duty towards the child we must first
consider how he came to be what he is; we must trace him back in thought to his
previous incarnation. Whatever may have been his outward circumstances at that
time, he had a definite disposition of his own-- a character containing various
more or less developed qualities, some good and some bad.
1349.
In due course of time that life of his came to an end; but whether that
end came slowly by disease or old age, or swiftly by some accident or violence,
its advent made no sudden change of any sort in his character. A curious
delusion seems to prevail in many quarters that the mere fact of death at once
turns a demon into a saint-- that, whatever a man' s life may have been, the
moment he dies he becomes practically an angel of goodness. No idea could
possibly be further from the truth, as those whose work lies in trying to help
the departed know full well. The casting off of a man' s physical body no more
alters his disposition than does the casting off of his overcoat; he is
precisely the same man the day after his death as he was the day before, with
the same vices and the same virtues.
1350.
True, now that he is functioning only in the astral world he has not the
same opportunities of displaying them; but though they may manifest themselves
in the astral life in a different manner, they are none the less still there,
and the conditions and duration of that life are their result. In that world he
must stay until the energy poured forth by his lower desires and emotions during
physical life has worn itself out-- until the astral body which he has made for
himself, disintegrates; for only then can he leave it for the higher and more
peaceful realm of the heaven-world. But though those particular passions are the
time worn out and done with for him, the germs of the qualities in him, which
made it possible for them to exist in his nature, are still there. They are
latent and ineffective, certainly, because desire of that type requires astral
matter for its manifestation; they are what Madame Blavatsky once called
“privations of matter,” but they are quite ready to come into renewed activity,
if stimulated, when the man again finds himself under conditions where they can
act.
1351.
An analogy may perhaps, if not pushed too far, be of use in helping us to
grasp this idea. If a small bell be made to ring continuously in an air-tight
vessel, and the air be then gradually withdrawn, the sound will grow fainter and
fainter, until it becomes inaudible. The bell is still ringing as vigorously as
ever, yet its vibration is no longer manifest to our ears, because the medium by
means of which alone it can produce any effect upon them is absent. Admit the
air to the vessel, and immediately you hear the sound of the bell once more just
as before.
1352.
Similarly, there are certain qualities in man' s nature which need astral
matter for their manifestation, just as sound needs either air or some denser
matter for its vehicle; and when, in the process of his withdrawal into himself
after what we call death, he leaves the astral world for the mental, those
qualities can no longer find expression, and must therefore perforce remain
latent. But when, centuries later, on his downward course into reincarnation he
re-enters the astral realm, these qualities which have remained latent for so
long manifest themselves once more, and become the tendencies of the next
personality.
1353.
In the same way there are qualities of the mind which need for their
expression the matter of the lower mental levels; and when, after his long rest
in the heaven-world, the consciousness of the man withdraws into the true ego
upon the higher mental levels, these qualities also pass into latency.
1354.
But when the ego is about to reincarnate, he has to reverse this process
of withdrawal-- to pass downward through the very same worlds through which he
came on his upward journey. When the time of his outflow comes, he puts himself
down first on to the lower levels of his own world, and seeks to express himself
there, as far as is possible in that less perfect and less plastic matter. In
order that he may so express himself and function in that world, he must clothe
himself in its matter.
1355.
Thus the ego aggregates around himself matter of the lower mental
levels-- the matter which will afterwards become his mind-body. But this matter
is not selected at random; out of all the varied and inexhaustible store around
him he attracts to himself just such a combination as is perfectly fitted to
give expression to his latent mental qualities. In precisely the same way, when
he makes the further descent to the astral world, the matter of that world which
is by natural law attracted to him to serve as his vehicle is exactly that which
will give expression to the desires which were his at the conclusion of his
astral life. In point of fact, he resumes his life in each world just where he
left it last time.
1356.
His qualities are not as yet in any way in action; they are simply the
germs of qualities, and for the moment their only influence is to secure for
themselves a possible field of manifestation by providing suitable matter for
their expression in the various vehicles of the child. Whether they develop once
more in this life into the same definite tendencies as in the last one, will
depend largely upon the encouragement or otherwise given to them by the
surroundings of the child during his early years. Any one of them, good or bad,
may be readily stimulated into activity by encouragement, or, on the other hand,
may be starved out for lack of that encouragement. If stimulated, it becomes a
more powerful factor in the man' s life this time than it was in his previous
existence; if starved out, it remains merely as an unfructified germ, which
presently atrophies and dies out, and does not make its appearance in the
succeeding incarnation at all.
1357.
This, then, is the condition of the child when first he comes under his
parents' care. He cannot be said to have as yet a definite mind-body or a
definite astral body, but he has around and within him the matter out of which
these are to be builded.
1358.
He possesses tendencies of all sorts, some of them good and some of them
evil, and it is in accordance with the development of these tendencies that this
building will be regulated. And this development in turn depends almost entirely
upon the influences brought to bear upon him from outside during the first few
years of his existence. During these years the ego has as yet but little hold
over his vehicles, and he looks to the parents to help him to obtain a firmer
grasp, and to provide him with suitable conditions; hence their responsibility.
1359.
THE PLASTICITY OF CHILDHOOD
1360.
It is impossible to exaggerate the plasticity of these unformed vehicles.
We know that the physical body of a child, if only its training be begun at a
sufficiently early age, may be modified to a considerable extent. An acrobat,
for example, will take a boy of five or six years old, whose bones and muscles
are not yet as hardened and firmly set as ours are, and will gradually accustom
his limbs and body to take readily and with comfort all sorts of positions which
would be absolutely impossible for most of us now, even with any amount of
training. Yet our own bodies at the same age differed in no essential respect
from that boy' s, and if they had been put through the same exercises they would
have become as supple and elastic as his.
1361.
If the physical body of a child is thus plastic and readily impressible,
his astral and mental vehicles are far more so. They thrill in response to every
vibration which they encounter, and are eagerly receptive with regard to all
influences, whether good or evil, which emanate from those around them. They
resemble the physical body also in this other characteristic-- that though in
early youth they are so susceptible and so easily moulded, they soon set and
stiffen and acquire definite habits which, when once firmly established, can be
altered only with great difficulty.
1362.
When we realise this, we see at once the extreme importance of the
surroundings in which a child passes his earliest years, and the heavy
responsibility which rests upon every parent to see that the conditions of the
child' s development are as good as they can be made. The little creature is as
clay in our hands to mould almost as we will; moment by moment the germs of good
or evil quality brought over from the last birth are awakening into activity;
moment by moment are being built up those vehicles which will condition the
whole of his after-life; and it rests with us to awaken the germ of good, to
starve out the germ of evil. To a far larger extent than is ever realised by
even the fondest parents, the child' s future is under their control.
1363.
Think of all the friends whom you know so well, and try to imagine what
splendid specimens of humanity they would be if all their good qualities were
enormously intensified, and all the less estimable features absolutely weeded
out of their characters.
1364.
That is the result which it is in your power to produce in your
child, if you do your full duty by him; such a specimen of humanity you may make
him if you will but take the trouble.
1365.
THE INFLUENCE OF PARENTS
1366.
But how? you will say; by precept? by education? Yes, truly, much may be
done in that way when the time comes; but another and far greater power than
that is in your hands-- a power which you may begin to wield from the very
moment of the child' s birth, and even before that; and that is the power of the
influence of your own life.
1367.
To some extent this is recognised, for most civilised people are careful
of their words and actions in the presence of a child, and it would be an
unusually depraved parent who would allow his children to hear him use violent
language, or to see him give away to a fit of passion; but what a man does not
realise is that if he wishes to avoid doing the most serious harm to his little
ones, he must learn to control not only his words and deeds, but also his
thoughts. It is true that you cannot immediately see the pernicious effect
of your evil thought or desire upon the mind of your child, but none the less it
is there, and it is more real and more terrible, more insidious and more
far-reaching than the harm which is obvious to the physical eye.
1368.
If a parent allows himself to cherish feelings of anger or jealousy, of
envy or avarice, of selfishness or pride, even though he may never give them
outward expression, the waves of emotion which he thereby causes in his own
desire-body are assuredly acting all the while upon the plastic astral body of
his child, tuning its undulations to the same key, awakening into activity any
germs of those sins that may have been brought over from his past life, and
setting up in him also the same set of evil habits, which when they have once
become definitely formed will be exceedingly difficult to correct. And this is
exactly what is being done in the case of most of the children whom we see
around us.
1369.
THE AURA OF A CHILD
1370.
As it presents itself to a clairvoyant, the subtle body of a child is
often a most beautiful object-- pure and bright in its colour, free, as yet,
from the stains of sensuality and avarice, and from the dull cloud of ill-will
and selfishness which so frequently darkens all the life of the adult. In it are
to be seen lying latent all the germs and tendencies of which we have spoken--
some of them evil, some of them good; and thus the possibilities of the child' s
future life lie plain before the eye of the watcher.
1371.
But how sad it is to see the change which almost invariably comes over
that lovely child-aura as the years pass on-- to note how persistently the evil
tendencies are fostered and strengthened by his environment, and how entirely
the good ones are neglected! And so incarnation after incarnation is almost
wasted, and a life which, with just a little more care and self-restraint on the
part of parents and teachers, might have borne rich fruit of spiritual
development, comes practically to nothing, and at its close leaves scarce any
harvest to be garnered into the ego of which it has been so one-sided an
expression.
1372.
CARELESSNESS OF PARENTS
1373.
When one watches the criminal carelessness with which those who are
responsible for the bringing-up of children allow them to be perpetually
surrounded by all kinds of evil and worldly thoughts, one ceases to marvel at
the extraordinary slowness of human evolution, and the almost imperceptible
progress which is all that the ego has to show for life after life spent in the
toil and struggle of this lower world. Yet with so little more trouble so vast
an improvement might be introduced!
1374.
It needs no astral vision to see what a change would come over this weary
old world if the majority, or even any large proportion of the next generation,
were subjected to the process suggested above-- if all their evil qualities were
steadily repressed and atrophied for lack of nourishment, while all the good in
them was assiduously cultivated and developed to the fullest possible extent.
One has only to think what they in turn would do for their children, to
realise that in two or three generations all the conditions of life would be
different, and a true golden age would have begun. For the world at large age
may still be distant, but surely we who are members of the Theosophical Society
ought to be doing our best to hasten its advent: and though the influence of our
example may not extend far, it is at least within our power to see that our own
children have for their development every advantage which we can give them.
1375.
The greatest care, then, ought to be taken as to the surroundings of
children, and people who will persist in thinking coarse and unloving thoughts
should at least learn that while they are doing so, they are unfit to come near
the young, lest they infect them with a contagion more virulent than fever.
1376.
Much care is needed, for example, in the selection of the nurses to whom
children must sometimes be committed; though it is surely obvious that the less
they are left in the hands of servants the better. Nurses often develop the
strongest affection for their charges, and treat them as though they were of
their own flesh and blood; yet this is not invariably the case, and, even if it
be, the servants are almost inevitably less educated and less refined than their
mistresses. A child who is left too much to their companionship is therefore
constantly subjected to the impact of thought which is likely to be of a less
elevated order than even the average level of that of his parents. So that the
mother who wishes her child to grow up into a refined and delicate-minded man
should entrust him to the care of others as little as possible, and should,
above all things, take good heed to her own thoughts while watching over him.
1377.
Her great and cardinal rule should be to allow herself to harbour no
thought and no desire which she does not wish to see reproduced in her son. Nor
is this merely negative conquest over herself sufficient, for, happily, all that
has been said about the influence and power of thought is true of good thoughts
just as much as of evil ones, and so the parents' duty has a positive as well as
a negative side. Not only must they abstain most carefully from fostering, by
unworthy or selfish thoughts of their own, any evil tendency which may exist in
their child, but it is also their duty to cultivate in themselves strong,
unselfish affection, pure thoughts, high and noble aspirations, in order that
all these may react upon their charge, quicken whatever of good is already
latent in him, and create a tendency towards any good quality which is as yet
unrepresented in his character.
1378.
Nor need they have any fear that such effort on their part will fail in
its effect, because they are unable to follow its action for lack of astral
vision. To the sight of a clairvoyant the whole transaction is obvious; he
distinguishes the waves set up in the mind-body of the parent by the inception
of the thought, sees it radiating forth, and notes the sympathetic undulations
created by its impingement upon the mind-body of the child; and if he renews his
observation at intervals during some considerable period, he discerns the
gradual but permanent change produced in that mind-body by the constant
repetition of the same stimulus to progress. If the parents themselves possess
astral sight, it will, no doubt, be of great assistance to them in showing
exactly what are the capabilities of their child, and in what directions he most
needs development; but if they have not yet that advantage, there need not
therefore be the slightest doubt or question about the result, for that must
with mathematical certainty follow sustained effort, whether the process of its
working be visible to them or not.
1379.
With whatever care the parents may surround the child, it cannot but be
(if he lives in the world at all) that he will some day encounter influences
which will stimulate the germs of evil in his composition. But it makes all the
difference in the world which germs are stimulated first. Usually the
evil is thoroughly awakened into activity before the ego has any hold upon the
vehicles, and so when he does grasp them he finds that he has to combat a strong
predisposition to various evils. When the germs of good are tardily aroused they
have to struggle to assert themselves against a set of inharmonious thought-wave
which are already firmly established; and often they do not succeed. If,
however, by exceeding care before birth and for several years after it the
parents are fortunate enough to be able to excite only the good undulations, as
the ego gains control he finds it naturally easy to express himself along those
lines, and a decided habit is set up in that direction. Then when the evil
excitation comes, as come it surely will some time or other, it finds a strong
momentum in the direction of good, which it strives in vain to overcome.
1380.
The command of the ego over this lower vehicles is often but small,
unless he is unusually advanced; but his will is always for good, because his
desire in connection with these vehicles is to evolve himself by their means,
and such power as he is able to throw into the balance is therefore always on
the right side. But with his at present somewhat uncertain grasp upon his astral
and mental bodies, he is frequently unable to overcome a strong tendency in the
direction of evil when that has been already established. If, however, he finds
the strong tendency set up in the opposite direction, he is enable thereby to
get hold of his vehicles more effectually; and after he has done that, the evil
suggestion which comes later can only with difficulty succeed in obtaining an
entrance. In the one case there is in the personality a taste for evil, a
readiness to receive it and indulge in it; in the other there is a strong
natural distaste for evil which makes the work of the ego much easier.
1381.
Not only should a parent watch his thoughts, but his moods also. A child
is quick to notice and to resent injustice; and if he finds himself scolded at
one time for an action which on another occasion caused only amusement, what
wonder that his sense of the invariability of Nature' s laws is outraged! Again,
when trouble or sorrow comes upon the parent, as in this world it sometimes
must, it is surely his duty to try, as far as possible, to prevent his load of
grief from weighing upon his children as well as upon himself; at least when in
their presence he should make a special effort to be cheerful and resigned, lest
the dull, leaden hue of depression should extend itself from his astral body to
theirs.
1382.
Many a well-meaning parent has an anxious and fussy nature-- is always
fidgeting about trifles, and worrying his children and himself about matters
which are really quite unimportant. If he could but observe clairvoyantly the
utter unrest and disquiet which he thus produces in his own higher bodies, and
could further see how these disturbed waves introduce quite unnecessary
agitation and irritation into the susceptible vehicles of his children, he would
no longer be surprised at their occasional outbursts of petulance or nervous
excitability, and would realise that in such a case he is often far more to
blame than they. What he should contemplate and set before him as his object, is
a restful, unruffled spirit-- the peace which passeth all understanding-- the
perfect calm which comes from the confidence that all will at last be well.
1383.
Above all things must he strive to become an embodiment of the Divine
Love, so that he may fully realise it in his own life, in order that he may
flood with it the life of his child. The body must live in an atmosphere of
love; he ought never to meet with a jarring vibration, never even to know in his
young days that there is anything but love in this world. And when the time
comes, as come it unhappily must, when he learns that in the outside world love
is often sadly lacking-- all the more let him feel that his home will never fail
him, that there, at least, he may always count upon the uttermost love, the
fullest comprehension.
1384.
It is obvious that the training of the parents' character which is
necessitated by these considerations is in every respect a splendid one, and
that in thus helping on the evolution of their children they also benefit
themselves to an extent which is absolutely incalculable, for the thoughts which
at first have been summoned by conscious effort for the sake of the child will
soon become natural and habitual, and will, in time, form the background of the
parents' entire life.
1385.
It must not be supposed that these precautions may be relaxed as the
child grows older, for though this extraordinary sensitiveness to the influence
of his surroundings commences as soon as the ego descends upon the embryo, long
before birth takes place, it continues, in most cases, up to about the period of
maturity. If such influences as are above suggested have been brought to bear
upon him during infancy and childhood, the body of twelve or fourteen will be
far better equipped for the efforts which lie before him than his less fortunate
companions, with whom no special trouble has been taken. But he is still far
more impressionable than an adult; he still needs to be surrounded by the same
boundless sea of never-failing love; the same strong help and guidance upon the
mental level must still be continued, in order that the good habits both of
thought and of action may not yield before the newer temptations which are
likely to assail him.
1386.
Although in his earlier years it was naturally chiefly to his parents
that he had to look for such assistance, all that has been said of their duties
applies equally to anyone who comes into contact with children in any capacity,
and most especially to those who undertake the tremendous responsibilities of
the teacher. This influence of a master for good or for evil over his pupils is
one that cannot readily be measured, and (exactly as before) it depends not only
upon what he says or what he does, but even more upon what he thinks. Many a
master repeatedly reproves in his boys the exhibition of tendencies for the
creation of which he is himself directly responsible; if his thought is selfish
or impure, then he will find selfishness and impurity reflected all around him,
nor does the evil caused by such a thought end with those whom it immediately
affects.
1387.
The young minds upon which it is reflected take it up and magnify and
strengthen it, and thus it reacts upon others in turn and becomes an unholy
tradition handed down from one generation of boys to another, and so stamps its
peculiar character upon a particular school or a particular class. Happily, a
good tradition may be set up almost as easily as a bad one-- not quite as
easily, because there are always undesirable external influences to be taken
into account; but still a teacher who realises his responsibilities and manages
his school upon the principles that have been suggested will soon find that his
self-control and self-devotion have not been fruitless.
1388.
THE NECESSITY FOR LOVE
1389.
There is only one way in which either parent or teacher can really obtain
effective influence over a child and draw out all the best that is in him-- and
that is by enfolding him in the pure fire of a warm, constant, personal love,
and thereby winning his love and confidence in return. More than any other
qualification is this insisted upon in Alcyone' s wonderful book Education
as Service -- a book which every parent and teacher should read, for the
sake of the sweet spirit which it breathes, and the valuable hints which it
contains.
1390.
It is true that obedience may be extorted and discipline preserved by
inspiring fear, but rules enforced by such a method are kept only so long as he
who imposes them (or some one representing him) is present, and are invariably
broken when there is no fear of detection; the child keeps them because he must,
and not because he wishes to do so; and meantime the effect upon his character
is of the most disastrous description.
1391.
If, on the other hand, his affection has been invoked, his will at once
ranges itself on the side of the rule; he wishes to keep it, because he knows
that in breaking it he would cause sorrow to one whom he loves; and if only this
feeling be strong enough, it will enable him to rise superior to all temptation,
and the rule will be binding, no matter who may be present or absent. Thus the
object is attained not only much more thoroughly, but also much more easily and
pleasantly both for teacher and pupil, and all the best side of the child' s
nature is called into activity, instead of all the worst. Instead of rousing the
child' s will into sullen and persistent opposition, the teacher arrays it on
his own side in the contest against distractions or temptations; the danger of
deceit and secretiveness is avoided, and thus results are achieved which could
never be approached on the other system.
1392.
It is of the utmost importance always to try to understand the child, and
to make him feel certain that he has one' s friendliness and sympathy. All
appearance of harshness must be carefully avoided, and the reason of all
instructions given to him should always be fully explained. It must indeed be
made clear to him that sometimes sudden emergencies arise in which the older
person has no time to explain his instructions, and he should understand that in
such a case he should obey, even though he may not fully comprehend; but even
then the explanation should be always given afterwards.
1393.
Unwise parents or teachers often make the mistake of habitually exacting
obedience without understanding-- a most unreasonable demand; indeed, they
expect from the child at all times and under all conditions an angelic patience
and saintliness which they are far indeed from possessing themselves. They have
not yet realised that harshness towards a child is always not only wicked, but
absolutely unreasonable and foolish as well, since it can never be the most
effective way of obtaining from him what is desired.
1394.
A child' s faults are often the direct results of the unnatural way in
which he is treated. Sensitive and nervous to a degree, he constantly finds
himself misunderstood and scolded or ill-treated for offences whose turpitude he
does not in the least comprehend; is it wonderful that, when the whole
atmosphere about him reeks with the deceit and falsehood of his elders, his
fears should sometimes drive him into untruthfulness also? In such a case the
karma of the sin will fall most heavily upon those who by their criminal
harshness have placed a weak and undeveloped being in a position where it was
almost impossible for him to avoid it.
1395.
If we expect truth from our children, we must first of all practise it
ourselves; we must think truth as well as speak truth and act truth, before we
can hope to be strong enough to save them from the sea of falsehood and deceit
which surrounds us on every side. But if we treat them as reasonable beings-- if
we explain fully and patiently what we want from them, and show them that they
have nothing to fear from us, because “perfect love casteth out fear”-- then we
shall find no difficulty about truthfulness.
1396.
A curious but not uncommon delusion-- a relic, perhaps, of the terrible
days when, for its sins, this unhappy country of England groaned under the
ghastly tyranny of puritanism-- is, that children can never be good unless they
are unhappy, that they must be thwarted at every turn, and never by any chance
allowed to have their own way in anything, because when they are enjoying
themselves they must necessarily be in a condition of desperate wickedness!
Absurd and atrocious as this doctrine is, various modifications of it are still
widely prevalent, and it is responsible for a vast amount of cruelty and
unnecessary misery, wantonly inflicted upon little creatures whose only crime is
that they are natural and happy. Undoubtedly Nature intends that childhood shall
be a happy time, and we ought to spare no efforts to make it so, for in that
respect, as in all others, if we thwart Nature we do so at our peril. A hymn
tells us:
1397.
God would have us happy, happy all the day,
1398.
and in this case as in all others it is our duty and our privilege to be
fellow-workers together with Him.
1399.
It will help us much in our dealings with children if we remember that
they also are egos, that their small and feeble physical bodies are but the
accident of the moment, and that in reality we are all about the same age; so
that we owe them respect as well as affection, and we must not expect to impose
our will or individuality upon theirs. Our business in training them is to
develop only that in their lower vehicles which will co-operate with the ego--
which will make them better channels for the ego to work through. Long ago, in
the golden age of the old Atlantean civilisation, the importance of the office
of the teacher of the children was so fully recognised that none was permitted
to hold it except a trained clairvoyant, who could see all the latent qualities
and capabilities of his charges, and could, therefore, work intelligently with
each, so as to develop what was good in him and to amend what was evil.
1400.
In the distant future of the sixth root-race that will be so once more;
but that time is, as yet, far away, and we have to do our best under less
favourable conditions. Yet unselfish affection is a wonderful quickener of the
intuition, and those who really love their children will rarely be at a loss to
comprehend their needs; and keen and persistent observation will give them,
though at the cost of much more trouble, some approach to the clearer insight of
their Atlantean predecessors. At any rate, it is well worth the trying, for when
once we realise our true responsibility in relation to children we shall
assuredly think no labour too great which enables us to discharge it better.
Love is not always wise, we know; but at least it is wiser than carelessness,
and parents and teachers who truly love will be thereby spurred on to gain
wisdom for the sake of the children.
1401.
RELIGIOUS TRAINING
1402.
Many members of our Society, while feeling that their children need
something to take the place filled in ordinary education by the religious
training, have yet found it almost impossible so to put Theosophy before them as
to make it in any way intelligible to them. Some have even permitted their
children to go through the ordinary routine of bible lessons, saying that they
did not know what else to do, and that though much of the teaching was obviously
untrue it could be corrected afterwards. This course is entirely indefensible;
no child should ever waste his time in learning what he will have to unlearn
afterwards. If the true inner meaning of Christianity can be taught to our
children, that indeed is well, because that is pure Theosophy; but unfortunately
that is not the form which religious instruction takes in ordinary schools.
1403.
There is no real difficulty in putting the grand truths of Theosophy
intelligibly before the minds of our children. It is useless to trouble them
with rounds and races, with mulaprakriti and planetary chains; but then, however
interesting and valuable all this information may be, it is of little importance
in the practical regulation of conduct, whereas the great ethical truths upon
which the whole system rests can, happily, be made clear even to the childish
understanding. What could be simpler in essence than the three great truths
which are given to Sensa in The Idyll of the White Lotus?
1404.
The soul of man is immortal, and its future is the future of a thing
whose growth and splendour have no limit.
1405.
The principle which gives life dwells in us and without us, is undying
and eternally beneficent, is not heard, nor seen, nor smelt, but is perceived by
the man who desires perception.
1406.
Each man is his own absolute lawgiver, the dispenser of glory or gloom to
himself-- the decreer of his life, his reward, his punishment.
1407.
These truths, which are as great as is life, itself, are as simple as the
simplest mind of man. Feed the hungry with them.
1408.
We might express these more tersely by saying: “Man is immortal; God is
good; as we sow, so shall we reap.” Surely none of our children can fail to
grasp these simple ideas in their broad outline, though as they grow older they
may spend many a year in learning more and more of the immensity of their full
meaning.
1409.
Teach them the grand old formula that “death is the gate of life”-- not a
terrible fate to be feared, but simply a stage of progress to be welcomed with
interest. Teach them to live, not for themselves, but for others-- to go through
the world as friends and helpers, earnest in loving reverence and care for all
living things. Teach them to delight in seeing and in causing happiness in
others, in animals and birds as well as in human beings; teach them that to
cause pain to any living thing is always a wicked action, and can never have
aught of interest or amusement for any right-thinking or civilised man. A child'
s sympathies are so easily roused, and his delight in doing something is so
great, that he responds at once to the idea that he should try to help, and
should never harm, all the creatures around him. He should be taught to be
observant, that he may see where help is needed, whether by man or by animal,
and promptly to supply the want so far as lies in his power.
1410.
A child likes to be loved, and he likes to protect, and both these
feelings may be utilised in training him to be a friend of all creatures. He
will readily learn to admire flowers as they grow, and not wish to pluck them
heedlessly, casting them aside a few minutes later to wither on the roadside;
those which he plucks he will pick carefully, avoiding injury to the plant; he
will preserve and tend them, and his way through wood and field will never be
traceable by fading blossoms and uprooted plants.
1411.
PHYSICAL TRAINING
1412.
The physical training of the child is a matter of the greatest
importance, for a strong, pure, healthy body is necessary for the full
expression of the developing soul within. Teach him from the first the exceeding
importance of physical purity, so that he may regard his daily bath as just as
much an integral part of his life as his daily food. See to it that his body is
never befouled with such filthy abominations of modern savagery as meat, alcohol
or tobacco; see to it that he has always plenty of sunlight, of fresh air and of
exercise.
1413.
We have seen in an earlier chapter how horrible are the surroundings in a
great town; and if these are evil in their influence on adults, they are ten
times worse for the more sensitive children. The truth is that no children ought
ever to be brought up in a town at all; and those whose evil karma compels them
to work in such places should at least try if possible to live a little way
outside of them for the sake of their children. It is far better for the
children to be brought up in the country, even though it be in comparative
poverty, than that, in order to amass money for them, the parents should allow
them to grow up amidst all the noxious influences of a large town. Where the
urban life is unfortunately unavoidable, they should at least be taken out of
the city as often as possible, and kept out as long as possible.
1414.
So shall your child grow up pure, healthy and happy; so shall you
provide, for the soul entrusted to your care, a casket of which it need not be
ashamed, a vehicle through which it shall receive only the highest and best that
the physical world can give-- which it can use as a fitting instrument for the
noblest and the holiest work.
1415.
As the parent teaches the child, he will also be obliged to set the
example in this as in other things, and so the child will thus again civilise
his elders as well as improve himself. Birds and butterflies, cats and dogs, all
will be his friends, and he will delight in their beauty instead of longing to
chase or destroy them. Children thus trained will grow up into men and women who
recognise their place in evolution and their work in the world, and each will
serve as a fresh centre of humanising force, gradually changing the direction of
human influence on all lower things.
1416.
If thus we train our children, if we are thus careful in our relations
with them, we shall bear nobly our great responsibility, and in so doing we
shall help on the grand work of evolution; we shall be doing our duty, not only
to our children, but to the human race-- not only to these particular egos, but
to the many millions yet to come.
1417.
CHAPTER XXIII
1418.
BY OUR RELATION TO LOWER KINGDOMS
1419.
DOMESTIC ANIMALS
1420.
WE have a responsibility which must not be forgotten towards the animals
which we draw around us. This may be of two kinds, or rather of two degrees. A
farmer in the course of his business has to deal with a large number of animals
which may be described as semi-domesticated. His duty towards them is clearly to
feed them well and to take all possible care to keep them in perfect health. He
may sometimes attach to himself some one of these, but on the whole his relation
towards them is in the mass only, and as they are yet far from the possibility
of individualisation, it is not likely that his influence over them can go far,
or be more than a general one. His relation with them is, in fact, a business
relation, though he should look after them as carefully as though they were
human.
1421.
The case is quite different with the really domestic animals which live
in the house with us, and come into intimate personal relations with us. No one
is obliged to keep a dog or a cat, but if he does so he incurs a much greater
responsibility towards that animal than the farmer has towards any member of his
flock. It would be unpardonable selfishness for anyone who keeps such an animal
to think only of his own pleasure in connection with it, and not of the animal'
s development.
1422.
The domestic animal is in fact a kind of younger child-- with this
difference, that whereas the child is already an ego and has to be helped to
control his new vehicles, the animal is not yet a separate ego and has to be
helped to become one. The process of the individualisation of an animal has been
often described; notes upon it may be found in A Text-book of Theosophy, The
Inner Life, Man Visible and Invisible and The Christian Creed. A
perusal of what is there written will show at once along what line our duties to
the animals lie. We must endeavour to develop their affection and their
intellect, and the principal factor in both those developments is the affection
which we feel for them.
1423.
I have written at considerable length, in The Inner Life , Vol.
ii, upon mistakes which are frequently made by men in their relation to domestic
animals. All those mistakes are due to a selfish attitude with regard to the
animal, an endeavour to employ him for the gratification of our own evil
passions-- as, for example, when a dog is trained to hunt, and made in that way
to do vastly more harm than his forefathers ever did as wild beasts in the
jungle. For the wild beast kills only for food, when impelled to do so by
hunger; but the dog is trained to kill for the pleasure of killing, and is
thereby degraded in the scale of evolution instead of being raised.
1424.
Between the two categories, of really domestic animals and farm animals,
we may place the horse, for it comes into more individual relation with the
rider than does the farm animal, and yet at the same time it is far from
possessing the intelligence of the dog or the cat. It also must be treated
intelligently, and above all with unvarying kindness. The rider should remember
always that the horse does not exist solely to serve him, but has an evolution
of its own which it is his duty to forward. There is no wrong in his utilising
it to help him, because the association with him may develop its affection and
intelligence; but he must treat it always as he would treat a human servant, and
never forget its interest while he is making it serve his own.
1425.
BIRDS
1426.
A student of the hidden side of life cannot but deprecate the practice of
keeping birds in cages. Perfect liberty and the sense of great open spaces are
of the very essence of the life of a bird, and his misery at being imprisoned is
often intense and most pathetic. This is always especially marked in the case of
those birds which are natives of the country, and all such ought certainly at
once to be set free.
1427.
Foreign birds, which can live happily only in other climates, come under
a different category. They also spend most of the time in memories of splendid
tropical scenes, and in longing for the home from which they have been taken--
to which they ought to be sent back at the earliest possible moment. The sin
there lies with those who originally caught them; and those who keep them now
share in it only so far as that their action makes it profitable. A student who
has already thoughtlessly acquired such birds as these, can hardly do other than
keep them, unless he is in a position to return them to their native country;
but he should provide them with the largest cages, and let them out of them to
fly about the room as often as possible, while he certainly should not encourage
a nefarious traffic by buying any more of such creatures.
1428.
The only rational and useful relation that we can establish with birds is
that which occasionally exists in country places-- that food is regularly put
out for the birds in a certain place and they come and take it, while remaining
otherwise perfectly free. If a man wants to keep a bird, he should keep it
precisely as he would keep a cat-- provide it with plenty of food and an abiding
place whenever it chooses to accept it, but leave it otherwise free to go where
it will. The difficulty in the way is that the bird' s intelligence is so much
less developed than the cat' s that it would be more difficult to get it to
understand the conditions of the arrangement. By far the best plan is to have
nothing to do with foreign birds, but to try to make friends of the wild birds
of the neighbourhood.
1429.
Individualisation is not a possibility, as the bird is not developing
along our line; when it transcends the bird evolution is passes directly into
one of the higher orders of nature-spirits. Nevertheless, kindness shown to
birds arouses gratitude and affection in them, and helps them forward in their
evolution.
1430.
PLANTS
1431.
Another direction in which we may exercise a good deal of influence if we
will, is upon the plants in our gardens. Plants, like animals, are quick to
respond to wise and loving care, and are distinctly affected not only by what we
do for them physically, but also by our feelings towards them. Anyone who
possesses astral sight will be aware that flowers delight in and respond to a
feeling of admiration. The feelings of the vegetable differ rather in degree
than in kind from those of the animal or of the human being, and they bear
somewhat the same relation to those of the animal as do those of the animal to
those of the human being.
1432.
The animal is less complex in his emotions than the human being, but he
is capable of affection and hatred, of fear and pride, of jealousy or of shame.
Some animals, too, seem to have a sense of humour; at any rate, they keenly
enjoy playing tricks on one another, and they object greatly to being made to
appear ridiculous or to being laughed at. There is nothing to show that these
emotions are less in proportion in the animal than they are in us; but we may
say that the animal has fewer emotions and that they are less complex, and his
methods of expressing them are more limited.
1433.
If we descend to the vegetable kingdom we find that the vegetable has
scarcely any power of expression; but we shall be making a grave mistake if we
therefore assume that there are no feelings to express. Emotion in the vegetable
kingdom is again far less complex even than that of the animal, and it is
altogether vaguer-- a sort of blind instinctual feeling. The chief physical
manifestation of it is the well-known fact that some people are always fortunate
with plants, while others are always unfortunate, even when the physical
measures adopted are precisely the same. This difference exists everywhere, but
in India it has been specially noted, and certain people are described as having
the lucky hand, and it is recognised that almost anything which those people
plant will grow; even under quite unfavourable conditions, and that anything
which they cultivate is sure to turn out well. When this influence is universal
over the vegetable kingdom it is not a question of individual liking, but of
certain characteristics in the person, and certain qualities in his astral and
etheric vehicles which prove generally attractive, just as there are some people
with whom all dogs will at once make friends, and others who without effort can
manage the most recalcitrant horses.
1434.
But plants are also capable of individual attachment, and when they get
to know people well, they are pleased to see (or rather to feel) them near. A
person who pours upon his flowers a stream of admiration and affection evokes in
them a feeling of pleasure-- first of a general pleasure in receiving
admiration, which might be thought of as a sort of germ of pride, and then,
secondly, a feeling of pleasure at the presence of the person who admires, which
in the same way is the germ of love and gratitude. Plants are also capable of
anger and dislike, though outwardly they have hardly any means of showing them.
1435.
An occultist who has a garden will make a point of seeing that it is in
every way perfectly and carefully looked after, and more than this, he will
himself make friends with the flowers and trees and shrubs, and will go
sometimes to visit them and give each its due meed of admiration, and so in
giving pleasure to these lowly organisms he will himself be surrounded by a
vague feeling of affection.
1436.
It may be said that the feeling of a vegetable can hardly be strong
enough to be worth taking into account. It is true that the influence exerted by
it upon a human being is less than would be produced by the feeling of an
animal; but these influences do exist, and though the feeling of one plant may
not seem important, the feeling of hundreds begins to be a recognisable factor,
and if we wish to make the best possible conditions, we must not ignore our less
developed brethren of the lower kingdoms. That much even from the purely selfish
point of view; but the occultist naturally thinks first of the effect upon the
plant.
1437.
When we form a garden we are drawing round us a number of members of the
vegetable kingdom for our own pleasure; but at the same time this affords us an
opportunity of helping them in their evolution, an opportunity which should not
be neglected. Plants differ much in their power to receive and respond to human
influences. A large tree, for example, with its slow growth and its long life,
is capable of forming a far stronger a attachment than anything which is merely
annual. Such a tree comes to have a decided personality of its own, and is even
sometimes able temporarily to externalise that personality, so that it can be
seen by the clairvoyant. In such a case it usually takes upon itself human form
for the time, as I have mentioned in The Inner Life, Vol. ii. Those who
wish to understand how much more intelligence there is in the vegetable kingdom
than we usually think, should read a delightful book called The Sagacity and
Morality of Plants by J.E. Taylor.
1438.
NATURE-SPIRITS
1439.
This wonderful evolution has been described in an earlier chapter, but
from the point of view of its effect upon us, rather than of ours upon it. Here
we must consider the outer side of that relation-- the influence which we may
exercise upon the nature-spirits of our neighbourhood, and the friendship which
we may make with them. Many of their tribes are so beautiful and so interesting
that their acquaintance would repay cultivation, and we may help to develop
their intellect and affection, and so do them much good. Those of them who
possess etheric bodies have the power to make themselves physically visible if
they choose, so men who are happy enough to gain their friendship may
occasionally be rewarded by a view of them even with ordinary sight. There is
also a probability that such friends may be helped by these elves to attain
flashes of temporary clairvoyance, in order that in that way they may see them.
1440.
A fairy has many points of resemblance to a wild animal, and the method
of making friends with him is much what we should have to adopt if we were
trying to tame birds or deer. He is shy and distrustful towards man; how is this
distrust to be overcome? One who wishes to study at first-hand the habits of a
bird usually goes to the haunt of the creature, conceals himself, and remains
perfectly quiet, in the hope that the bird will not see him, or if it does, will
be reassured by his absolute stillness. The etheric sight of a nature-spirit
pierces through walls or bushes, so it is hopeless to attempt to evade his
observation; and for him the stillness which is important is not that of the
physical body, but of the astral. He objects to the filthy physical emanations
of the average man-- of meat, of tobacco, of alcohol, and of general
uncleanliness; obviously one who wishes to make friends with him must be free
from all these. He objects, too, to storms of passion and impurity; so the man
who seeks him must also be free from all low and selfish feelings, such as lust,
anger, envy, jealousy, avarice or depression.
1441.
These negative qualifications being in order, can anything positive be
done to invite the approach of so coy a visitor? Animals can often be attracted
by the offer of food, but as a fairy does not eat, that particular allurement is
not available in his case. The student can provide for him conditions which he
is known to enjoy. Strong unselfish affection or devotion, or indeed any high
feeling which burns steadily and without wild surgings, creates an atmosphere in
which the nature-spirit delights to bathe.
1442.
The man-- the right sort of man-- who rests for a while in some lovely,
lonely spot-- in a wood perhaps, or by a stream or a waterfall-- and revels in
such thoughts as have been suggested, is quite likely to become aware of an
unfamiliar presence, of something fascinating, yet strange and non-human; and
perchance, if fortune greatly favours him, he may even see as well as feel, when
the shy, wild creature becomes a little more accustomed to him, and gradually
learns to trust and like him. But if the student remembers that to the
nature-spirit this is an adventure such as it would be for a mouse to make
friends with a cat, or for a man to endeavour to establish fraternal relations
with a tiger in the jungle, he will learn to exercise unlimited patience, and
not to expect immediate results.
1443.
Almost all nature-spirits delight in music, and some are specially
attracted by certain melodies; so if the experimenter happens to be a performer
upon some portable instrument, such as the flute, it may increase his chances of
success if he plays upon it. I knew an elf in Italy who was so fascinated by a
particular piece of music that when it was played on the piano, he would
actually leave the wood in which he dwelt and come into the drawing-room to
enjoy it and dance to it-- or rather to bathe in its sound-waves, to pulsate and
sway in harmony with them. But I never knew him to do this if there were more
than two or three people in the room-- and even those must be friends whom he
had learned to trust.
1444.
More than once I have seen a shepherd-boy in Sicily, sitting in some
lonely spot on the hillside, playing on his home-made double Pan-pipe like an
ancient Greek, with an appreciative audience of fairies frisking round him of
which he was probably blissfully unconscious, though no doubt their delight
reacted upon him and added zest to his playing. Sometimes the peasants do
see the nature-spirits, however; plenty of instances may be found in Mr. Wentz'
Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries.
1445.
INANIMATE SURROUNDINGS
1446.
We are all the while exerting an influence even on what we commonly
consider our inanimate surroundings. Some of these, by the way, are not quite so
inanimate as we are apt to think. We all know that the Divine Life exists in the
mineral kingdom as well as in those which are higher, and in that sense rocks,
stones, and minerals may rightly be thought of as alive. But certain objects
have a more vivid and special kind of life, the study of which is of great
interest.
1447.
To explain it we must revert for a moment to a familiar analogy. We know
how the life of the elemental essence of the astral body gathers itself up into
a kind of personality (which we call the desire elemental) and exists for the
time as a separate being with definite desires and dislikes of its own, and with
sufficient power to exercise a great effect in the course of its life on the man
whose vehicle it informs. We know that the similar consciousness animating the
cells of the physical body (including of course its etheric part) manifests
itself in certain instinctive movements. In a way analagous to this, the
consciousness which animates the molecules of certain minerals will combine into
a temporary whole when those molecules are welded together into a definite form;
and especially is this the case when that form demands the presence and
attention of man, as machinery does.
1448.
A SHIP
1449.
The most perfect example of what I mean is to be found in a ship, for
there we have a structure built of an enormous number of component parts, and
usually of different substances. Kipling' s story of The Ship that Found
Herself is not mere fiction, but has a real and important truth behind it.
When a ship is first built she is not thus conscious of herself as a unit, but
is a mere aggregation of a number of separate sentiences. But the whole fabric
does become in time a unit of consciousness or awareness-- being to a
certain extent aware of itself as a whole-- however dim and vague its
percipience may be as compared with our own.
1450.
And that consciousness has what we can hardly describe as otherwise than
feelings, indistinct though they are as compared with anything to which we
usually give that name. Such an obscure semi-entity certainly may (and often
does) like one person better than another, so that one person can do with it
what another cannot. This in no way modifies the other fact that some men are
better seaman than others, and with a little practice can get out of any ship
the best that is to be got. Just so, some men are splendid riders, and can
almost immediately establish a friendly understanding with any horse; but quite
apart from that, a horse may become attached to a certain man, and learn to
understand his wishes far more readily than a stranger' s. The same thing is
true of the vaguer consciousness of the ship. I do not wish to be understood as
suggesting by this term anything comparable, in definiteness or responsiveness,
to the consciousness in man; but there certainly is a something, however loose
and uncertain, which we cannot define by any other word.
1451.
MACHINES
1452.
The same thing is true of a railway engine, of a motor-car or a bicycle.
Just as the driver or rider becomes accustomed to his machine and learns to know
exactly what it will do, and to humour its various little tricks, so the machine
in its turn becomes used to the driver and will do more for him in various ways
than for a stranger. The same must be true of many other sorts of machinery,
though for that I have not had the benefit of personal observation.
1453.
Apart from the influence acquired by an individual over the blended
consciousness of a machine, the mere blending itself produces an effect upon the
molecules of the substance of which it is made. Iron which has formed part of a
machine, and so has experienced what is for it this exaltation of consciousness,
may be thought of as somewhat more developed than iron which has not been used
in the building of a self-contained system. It has become capable of responding
to additional and more complicated vibrations, and that for a mineral is
evolution. It is more awake than other iron. This condition of greater vitality
would be easily visible to a clairvoyant who had learnt its indications, but I
do not know of any method by which it could be observed physically.
1454.
The additional power of response is not always of the same kind, and
variants of it may be aroused in different ways. Wrought iron, for example, is
much more alive than cast iron, and this result is produced by the frequent
blows which it receives in the process of its working. The same thing may be
observed to a greater degree with a horse-shoe, for not only has that been
wrought in the first place, but it has been subjected to constant striking upon
the road when it was worn by the horse. This long-continued process has awakened
it in a certain way which makes it exceedingly repulsive to some of the lowest
and most malignant types of the astral and etheric entities; and that is the
reason for the old superstition, that when hung over the door it kept away evil
and brought good fortune to its possessor.
1455.
Another interesting point with regard to this curious composite
consciousness is that after a certain time it gets tired-- a fact which has
frequently been observed by those who have much to do with machinery. After a
certain time a machine, though perfectly in order, gets into a condition in
which it will not work properly, but becomes slack in its action. It often seems
impossible to do anything to cure it, but if it is left alone for a time it
presently recovers its tone and will go on working as before.
1456.
Metals show plainly that they are subject to fatigue. A steel pen will
sometimes scratch and write badly when it has been used continually for several
hours, but the clerk who understands nature so far, will put the pen aside,
instead of throwing it away, and maybe the next day will find it even better
than it was at first. A barber often finds his razor refusing to take a keen
edge, and it is quite customary for him to say that it is “getting tired” and to
put it aside to rest. Some days later that same razor will be in perfect order,
keen and sharp as ever.
1457.
Railway engines are known to want regular rest, and after a certain
amount of work are put into the shed, and allowed to cool; and so the engine has
its rest just as regularly a human being. So we see that fatigue is one of the
conditions possible to the mineral kingdom and may be felt by metals as well as
by men in their physical bodies. (See Response in the Living and Non-living,
by Professor J.C. Bose.) As a matter of fact fatigue is not felt anywhere except
in the physical world.
1458.
There are men, but so far I know only few, who are unusually charged with
electricity, and thus produce a special effect upon any metal with which they
habitually come into contact. It is said, for example, that such people cause
quite considerable deflections of a ship' s compass when they come near it; but
this is physical, and hardly occult.
1459.
UNLUCKY SHIPS
1460.
A curious instance of the intervention of the hidden side in the ordinary
affairs of life is furnished by the experience of practical men connected with
such matters, that certain ships or engines are what is called unlucky-- that
accident after accident occurs in connection with them, without any obvious
negligence to account for it. Naturally some machines are better made than
others; some men are more careful than others; but I am not referring to cases
into which either of these factors enters. In some cases where two ships or two
engines are precisely similar, and the men who manage them are of equal
capacity, one proves always fortunate, or meets with only an average proportion
of accidents, while the other is perpetually in trouble for no obvious reason.
1461.
There is no question at all that this is so, and it offers an interesting
problem to the occult student. I am inclined to think that various reasons may
sometimes comes into play in producing the results. In one such case at least it
appeared to be due to feelings of intense hatred nourished by all the men
against the first captain of the vessel, who seems to have been a petty tyrant
of the most objectionable description. A large number of men continually cursed
the captain, the ship, and all that belonged to her, with all the will-power at
their command; and the state of their feeling produced this evil result, that
disaster after disaster overtook her. By the time that that captain was removed,
the ship had acquired a definite reputation of being unlucky, and so her
successive crews have surrounded her with thought-forms to that effect , which
naturally enough justify themselves by continuing the series of misfortunes.
1462.
In other cases I think that ill-feeling directed towards the builder of
the vessel has produced similar results. I doubt whether any such directions of
evil force would in themselves be sufficient actually to cause serious
misfortune. But in the life of every ship there are a great many occasions on
which an accident is only just averted by vigilance and promptitude-- in which a
single moment' s delay or slackness would be sufficient to precipitate a
catastrophe. Such a mass of thought-forms as I have described would be amply
sufficient to cause that momentary lack of vigilance or that momentary
hesitation; and that would be the easiest line along which its malignity could
work.
1463.
STONE USED IN BUILDING
1464.
In speaking of our houses I have already mentioned the effect which we
are constantly producing upon the walls which surround us and the articles of
furniture in our rooms. It obviously follows that stone which has been used for
a building is never afterwards in the same condition as the stone which is as
yet unquarried. It has been permeated, probably for many years in succession,
with influences of a certain kind, and that means that for ever after it is
capable of responding to such influences more readily than is the unused stone.
1465.
We are therefore actually assisting in the evolution of the mineral
kingdom when we use these various materials for our buildings. I have already
explained how the different influences which we put into them react upon us; so
that just as a church radiates devotion, and a prison radiates gloom, so each
house in the business part of a city radiates anxiety and effort, too often
coupled also with weariness and despair. There are instances in which a
knowledge of these facts may prove useful in the prosaic matters of physical
life.
1466.
SEA-SICKNESS
1467.
We know, for example, that many sensitive ladies are often seized with
the pangs of sickness as soon as they go on board a vessel, even though the sea
may be perfectly smooth and there may be no physical excuse for the sensation.
No doubt this is partially auto-suggestion, but most of it comes from outside.
Many a cabin is so thoroughly loaded with this suggestion that it requires
considerable mental force for a newcomer to resist it; so it is not only the
physical consideration of fresh air which makes it desirable for anyone who is
likely to suffer in this way to be on deck as much as possible.
1468.
FIFTH SECTION
1469.
CONCLUSION
1470.
CHAPTER XXIV
1471.
THE RESULTS OF THE KNOWLEDGE
1472.
A SUMMARY
1473.
TO know something of the hidden side of nature makes life far more
interesting for us; interesting most of all, naturally, to the clairvoyant who
can see it, or to the sensitive who can feel it, but interesting in a less
degree even to those who cannot directly see or feel, and equally important to
all, because all are influencing and being influenced, even though it be
unconsciously to themselves so far as their physical brain is concerned.
1474.
In each case, as we have considered it, I have tries to indicate the
lesson to be learnt from it, but I will summarise the results here. First and
foremost we learn the duty of happiness, the necessity of casting away from us
depression and sorrow, even under the circumstances which most readily produce
it in those who do not know. Yet at the same time we learn that life must be
taken seriously, and must be lived not for selfish enjoyment but for the helping
of our fellow-men. We see that we must be on our guard against unsuspected
influences, such, for example, as the prejudices connected with race, religion,
or class, and the weight of public opinion, never allowing these to bias our
judgment, but trying always to arrive at the truth and to weigh the facts for
ourselves; that we must not yield ourselves unquestioningly even to presumed
spiritual inspiration, but in that case also must “try the spirits” and use our
common sense.
1475.
We learn desirability of systematic work or training; the futility of
taking offence, of becoming angry, or of allowing our serenity to be disturbed
in any way whatever, and the necessity of maintaining a ceaseless watch over our
thoughts as well as our words and actions, lest they should draw round us
unpleasant influences and act as temptations to our neighbours. And we see that
from those influences which we have mentioned above and from all others which
are undesirable, we can readily protect ourselves by the formation of shells,
though a better protection still is to be so full of the divine Love, that it is
always pouring itself out from us in the shape of love to our fellow-men.
1476.
We learn the danger of becoming slaves to the alcohol, corpse-eating or
tobacco habits; we learn to keep ourselves free from participation in the
cruelties so-called sport; we realise that we must be careful of the situation
and the decoration of our houses or rooms, avoiding harmful influences and
taking care always to flood them with sunlight and fresh air; that our clothing
should be dictated by considerations of health and common sense, and not merely
by fashion; that those who have the good fortune to be specially in contact with
children, should treat them with the uttermost love, gentleness and patience;
that we should recognise the brotherhood of all forms of the Divine Life in our
treatment of animals and plants; that we should never work unnecessary
destruction upon anything, whether it be what we call animate or inanimate,
since the occultist knows the Divine Life in everything, and respects it; that
what we are, what we think and what we do are even more important in relation to
their action upon others than upon ourselves; that we must preserve the
uttermost truth in thought and speech, and utter no word that is not true, kind,
pleasant and helpful; that every man possesses a certain amount of force and is
responsible for making the best use of it. We learn that ignorance of the law is
not accepted by Nature as an excuse, because it does not alter the effect of
what we do; that evil is but the dark shadow of good, and is always temporary,
while good is eternal; and that while, in everything human, good and evil are
mixed, yet the powers behind always use to the utmost the good in everything and
everybody.
1477.
These points on which I have written are but specimens of a vast host,
for to everything there is an unseen side, and to live the life of the occultist
is to study this higher, hidden side of Nature, and then intelligently to adapt
oneself to it. The occultist looks at the whole of each subject which is brought
before him, instead of only at the lowest and least important part of it, and
then orders his action according to what he sees, in obedience to the dictates
of plain common sense, and to the Law of Love which guides the Universe. Those
therefore who would study and practise occultism must develop within themselves
these three priceless possessions-- knowledge, common sense and love.
1478.
Such if the course of action suggested to us by a study of the hidden
side of things. But remember that this hidden side will not always remain
hidden, for every day more and more of our fellow-men learning to understand,
because one by one, scattered here and there, more and more are learning to see
it. Since it is obvious that this is the line of evolution and that the few who
see now are only precursors of the many who will see hereafter, what in the
light of these considerations may be predicted as the probable future of
humanity?
1479.
THE FUTURE
1480.
Ingenious speculation upon this subject is a prominent feature of our
modern fiction. It was attempted by Edward Bellamy in Looking Backward,
and more recently by Mr. H. G. Wells in a number of quaintly interesting works.
The line most usually taken is to pursue to a logical conclusion some of the
many socialistic theories which are at present in the air, and to endeavour to
calculate how these will work in practice among men as we know them. In one of
the pleasantest of these books, In the Days of the Comet, Mr. Wells
boldly introduces an entirely new factor-- a change in the constitution of our
atmosphere which suddenly inoculates mankind with common sense and fraternal
feeling. When that is achieved, naturally many other obvious changes immediately
follow: war becomes a ridiculous impossibility, our present social system is
regarded with horror and amazement, our business methods are thrown aside as
unworthy of human beings, and so on. For this much of common sense we may surely
presently hope in real life, though it will probably come much more slowly than
in Mr. Wells' story.
1481.
It may be of interest to see what light is thrown upon the problem of the
future by the higher extensions of human consciousness of which we have spoken
elsewhere. We find that from this point of view the future divides itself into
three parts-- the immediate, the remote, and the ultimate; and, oddly enough, it
is of that which is furthest from us that we are able to speak with the greatest
certainty, because the plan of evolution is visible to the higher sight, and its
goal is clear. Nothing can interfere with the attainment of that goal, but the
stages that lead up to it may be largely modified by the free-will of the
individuals concerned, and can, therefore, be foreseen only in their general
outline.
1482.
The end, so far as this cycle is concerned, is the accomplishment of the
perfection of man. Each individual is to become something much more than what we
now mean by a great and good man, for he is to be perfect in intellect and
capacity as well as spirituality. All the intellect of the greatest philosopher
or man of science, and far more; all the devotion and spirituality of the
greatest of saints, and far more; these are to be the possessions of every unit
of humanity before our cycle ends.
1483.
To understand how such a stupendous result can be possible, we must grasp
the plan by which evolution works. Obviously, on the ordinary theory of one poor
little life of seventy years, followed by an eternity of purposeless joy or
suffering, nothing of this sort could ever be achieved; but when once we realise
that what we commonly call our life is only one day in the real life, and that
we may have just as many of such days as are necessary for our development, we
see that the command of Christ: “Be ye perfect even as your Father in heaven is
perfect,” is no vain hyperbole, but a plain direction which we may reasonably
expect to be able in due time to obey.
1484.
The ultimate future, then, is perfection for every human being, no matter
how low or undeveloped he may now be. Man will become more than man. This is
what was meant in the early Church by the doctrine of ` deification' to which
many of the Fathers refer. It is a matter not of pious opinion but of utter
certainty to those who see the working of the scheme.
1485.
Obviously, however, we are yet very far from this attainment; a long
upward path lies before us before we can reach that far-distant summit, and
though on the whole it rises steadily, there must necessarily be many minor ups
and downs in the future as there have been in the past. History shows us that
hitherto the advancement mankind has been cyclic in its character.
1486.
Each unit lives his long series of progressive lives, not in one race but
in many successive races, in order that he may learn the special lessons which
each has to teach. One can image a soul incarnating in ancient India to develop
religious fervour, in classical Greece to gain artistic capacity, in the Rome of
the Caesars to learn the immense power of discipline and order, among ourselves
at the present day to acquire the scientific habit of mind, and so on.
1487.
The same great host of souls sweeps on through all ages, animating all
the these races in turn, and learning from all; but the races themselves arise,
grow, decay and fall as they are needed. So when a nation loses its former glory
and falls behind in the race (as, for example, modern Greece seems to have done
in comparison with ancient Greece), it does not mean that a certain group of men
is decadent, but that there are at the moment no souls who need precisely the
type of training which that race at its best used to give, or that that training
is now being given elsewhere.
1488.
Consequently, the physical bodies of the descendants of those great men
of old are now animated by souls of a lower type, while the great men themselves
are now (as ever) in the forefront of evolution, but incarnated in some other
race in order to grow still greater by developing in new directions. A race dies
precisely as a class at a university might die if there were no longer any
students taking up that particular subject.
1489.
Clairvoyance enables us to examine a much larger section of the earth' s
past history than can be reached along ordinary lines; and this fuller study of
the past makes it possible, to some extent, to forecast by analogy some of the
steps in the more immediate future. From such a study of the records it appears
fairly certain that we are at the moment passing through a transition period,
and that instead of representing, as we often fondly imagine, the highest
development yet seen on earth, we are in reality in the trough between two waves
of progress. The democratic tendency of which some of us are so proud does not
represent, as is generally supposed, the ultimate achievement of human wisdom,
but is an experiment which was tried thoroughly and carried out to its logical
conclusion thousands of years ago, and then abandoned in universal disgust as
irrational, unworkable, and leading to endless confusion. If we are to repeat
the course of that experiment, it seems unpleasantly certain that we shall have
to pass through a good deal of this confusion and suffering once again, before
we arrive at the stage of common sense which Mr. Wells so happily describes in
the story previously mentioned.
1490.
But when that madness is over and reason begins to reassert itself, it is
manifest that there will be before us a period of far more rapid progress, in
which we shall be able to avail ourselves of many aids which are not now at our
disposal. The mere fact that the use of the higher faculties is slowly spreading
among humanity, will presently make an almost incalculable difference in many
directions.
1491.
Imagine a condition in which all deception or fraud will be impossible,
in which misunderstandings can no longer occur, because each man can read the
thought of the other-- in which no one will ever again be set to do work for
which he is unfitted, because from the first, parents and tutors will be able to
see exactly the capacities of those committed to their care-- in which a doctor
cannot make mistakes, because he will see for himself exactly what is the matter
with his patient, and can watch in detail the action of his remedies. Think what
a difference it will make in our lives when death no longer separates us from
those whom we love, because the astral world lies open to us just as does the
physical; when it will be impossible for men any longer to doubt the reality of
the Divine scheme, because its lower stages are visibly before their eyes. Art
and music will be far grander then, for astral colours and harmonies will be at
our command as well as those which we now know.
1492.
The problems of science will be solved, for the vast additions to human
knowledge will blend all its branches into one perfect scheme. Geometry and
mathematics will be far more satisfactory, because we shall then see what they
really mean and what part they play in the splendid system of the worlds.
1493.
Geometry as we have it now is but a fragment; it is an exoteric
preparation for the esoteric reality. Because we have lost the true sense of
space, the first step towards that knowledge is the cognition of the fourth
dimension. For example, there are five, and only five, possible regular solids--
those which are sometimes called the Platonic Solids; to us, that is an
interesting fact and no more, but the student who has been initiated into the
Mysteries knows that, with a point at one end of the series and a sphere at the
other, they make a set of seven which bears a mystic meaning, explaining the
relations one to the other of the different types of matter in the seven planes
of our Solar System, and the power of the forces that play through them. Treated
only from the physical plane, studied as ends in themselves, instead of as means
to an end, geometry and mathematics must always remain incomplete, like
beautiful avenues that lead nowhere.
1494.
Every feature of life will be wider and fuller, because we shall see much
more than we do now of the beautiful and wonderful world in which our lot is
cast; understanding more, we cannot but admire and love more, so we shall be
infinitely happier, as we draw steadily nearer to that ultimate perfection which
is absolute happiness, because it is union with the Eternal Love.
1495.
CHAPTER XXV
1496.
THE WAY TO SEERSHIP
1497.
I HAVE no doubt that many people will find it difficult to believe much
of what I have written. I sympathise with them, because I realise quite well how
fantastic much of it would have appeared to me before I had studied
these matters or was able to see them for myself. I know also that, without
throwing the slightest imputation upon my good faith, many people will
inevitably doubt whether I have seen all these things clearly and reported them
exactly. One quaint criticism was offered by a friend, who said:
1498.
“It seems as though you had written this to justify your own
peculiarities, for the things that you recommend here are just those in which
you differ from many others.”
1499.
The friend was confusing cause and effect; if I do, or try to do, these
various things which I have prescribed, it is just because I have seen with
regard to them what I have described in the book. If, however, there are those,
as there well may be, who find these things hard to believe, I can only say to
them that the best way to get corroboration of any of the Theosophical ideas is
to take them for granted and work with them, for then it will soon be found that
they prove themselves.
1500.
It is within the power of every man to develop the faculties by which all
this has been seen, nor is there any mystery as to the method by which such
development is achieved. These faculties will inevitably come to every one in
the course of his evolution, but most men still stand a long way from the point
at which they are likely to unfold, though sporadic flashes of clairvoyance are
by no means uncommon, and many people have at least a certain amount of
sensitiveness.
1501.
Let me not be misunderstood when I say that the ordinary man is still far
from the probability of possessing these senses. I do not mean because he is not
good enough, for it is not a question of goodness at all-- although it is
certainly true that if a man of impure or cruel tendency should acquire such
faculties he would do far more harm than good with them, to himself and to every
one else. I mean that the whole trend of modern life and thought is unfavourable
to such unfolding, and that the man who wishes to undertake it must to a great
extent abstract himself from the life of the world and get himself into an
entirely different atmosphere.
1502.
Such a life as I have prescribed on this book is precisely that which
would put a man into a favourable position for the growth of these faculties;
and it is not difficult to see how far from this is the ordinary life of the
present day. That is why it seems unhopeful to suggest to the average person
that he should undertake the task of opening out these powers. They are
unquestionably within his reach; but to get himself into a position from which
he could begin a real effort towards them means already much radical alteration
in the life which he has been accustomed to live. And then, even when he has
gradually eradicated from his body all the poisonous products of flesh, alcohol
and tobacco, when he has raised his aspirations from the lower to the higher,
when he has cast out from himself all traces of self-consciousness or impurity--
even then the effort required is greater then many men could make.
1503.
The eventual result is as certain as the working out of a problem in
Euclid, but the time occupied may be long, and iron determination and an
indomitable will are required for the work; and these are faculties which at
present are the possession of but few. Nevertheless “what man has done man can
do” if he will; I who write have succeeded in this thing, and I have known
others who have succeeded; and all who have gained that prize feel it to be far
more than worth all the efforts put forth in the course of its attainment. Let
me then conclude my book by a plain statement, made as simply as possible, of
what these powers are, by means of which it has been written, why they are
desirable, and how they may be acquired.
1504.
A fish is a denizen of our world, just as a man is; but it is obvious
that his conception of that world must be exceedingly imperfect. Confined as he
is to his one element, what can he know of the beauty of landscapes, of the
glory of sunsets, of the far-reaching interests of our varied and complex human
life? He lives on a globe of which he knows almost nothing; yet no doubt he is
perfectly satisfied, and thinks that what he knows is all there is to know.
1505.
It is not flattering to our self-conceit, yet it is an absolute fact,
that the majority of mankind are precisely in the position of the fish. They are
living in a world, only one small department of which is within their ken; yet
they are quite content with that, and are usually blankly ignorant or fiercely
incredulous as to the wider and grander life which surrounds them on every side.
1506.
How do we know of this wider life? Not only by religious revelation, but
because there are men who have learnt how to see, not indeed the whole of our
world, but at least much more of it than is seen by most people. These are the
men whom we call seers, or clairvoyants.
1507.
How do they see more than others? By the opening of latent faculties--
faculties which every one possesses, but which few as yet know how to use. Every
man has other vehicles of matter finer than the physical-- what St. Paul calls a
“spiritual body” as well as a “natural body”. Just as through the senses of the
physical body we become aware of physical things, so through what may be called
the senses of these finer bodies do we become aware of higher things.
1508.
The advantages of such sight are manifold. For its possessor most of the
problems of life are solved; for him it is not a matter of belief but of
knowledge that man survives what is called death, that eternal Justice rules the
world, that there is no possibility of final failure for anyone, and that,
however deceptive appearances may be, in reality all things are working together
for good. The man who is a seer can not only learn much more than others; he can
also be much more helpful to his fellows than others.
1509.
Since this seership is so desirable, since it lies latent in every one of
us, is it possible for us to develop it ? Certainly it is possible, if we are
willing to take the trouble; but for most men it is no light task, for it means
self-control and self-denial, perseverance and single-mindedness. Other men have
done it, so you can do it; but you cannot do it unless you are prepared to throw
all your strength into the effort, with an iron determination to succeed.
1510.
The motive too, must be pure and good. The man whose enquiry is prompted
merely by curiosity, or by an ignoble desire to obtain advantage or wealth for
himself, will do well to take warning in time, and leave any sort of occult
training severely alone until mental and moral growth are further advanced. For
added power and knowledge mean added responsibility, and the higher sight may be
a curse instead of a blessing to a man who is not ready for it.
1511.
There are many ways by which the inner sight may be opened, and most of
them are full of danger, and decidedly to be avoided. It may be done by the use
of certain drugs, by self-hypnotisation, or by mesmerism; but all these methods
may bring with them evil results which far outweigh the gain. There is, however,
one process which can by no possibility do harm, and that is the way of
thought-control and meditation. I do not say that the undertaking is easy; on
the contrary, it is excessively difficult; but I do say that it can be done by
determined effort, because it has been done.
1512.
The man who wishes to attempt this must begin by acquiring control over
his mind-- a herculean task in itself. He must learn to concentrate himself upon
whatever he may be doing, so that it shall be as well done as is possible for
him to do it. He must learn to wield his mind as a skilful fencer wields his
weapon, turning it at will in this direction or that, and able to hold it as
firmly as he wishes. Try to keep your mind fixed on one definite subject for
five minutes; before half the time has passed you will find that wandering
thoughts have slipped in unawares, and that the mind has soared far away beyond
the limits which you set for it. That means that it is not perfectly under your
control, and to remedy this condition of affairs is our first step-- by no means
an easy one.
1513.
Nothing but steady practice will give you this power; but fortunately
that practice can be had all day long, in business as well as during hours of
leisure. If you are writing a letter, keep your mind on that letter, so that it
may be written perfectly, clearly, quickly. If you are reading a book, keep your
mind on that book, so that you may fully grasp the author' s meaning, and gain
from it all that he intended you to gain.
1514.
In addition to thus practising concentration in the ordinary course of
life, it will help you greatly if you set apart a certain time each day for
special effort along these lines. Early morning is the most suitable; but, at
any rate, it should be at time when you can be sure of being undisturbed, and it
should always be at the same hour, for regularity is of the essence of the
prescription. Sit down quietly and get your mind perfectly calm; agitation or
worry of any sort is absolutely fatal to success. Then turn the mind upon some
subject selected beforehand, and consider it attentively and exhaustively, never
allowing your thoughts to stray aside from it in the slightest degree, even for
a moment. Of course at first they will stray; but each time you must
drag them back again and start afresh. You will find it best to take concrete
subjects at first; it is only after much practice that the more abstract can
profitably be considered.
1515.
When through long habitude all this has become thoroughly familiar to
you, when you have attained the power of concentration, and when the mind is
well under your control, another step may be taken. Begin now to choose for the
subject of your morning meditation the highest ideal that you know. What the
ideal is does not matter in the least, for we are dealing now with basic facts
and not with outer forms. The Hindu may take Shri Krishna, the Muhammadan,
Allah, the Parsi, Zoroaster, the Buddhist, the Lord BUDDHA, and the Christian,
the Lord Christ, or if he be a Catholic, perhaps the Blessed Virgin or one of
the Saints. It matters not at all, so long as the contemplation of that ideal
arouses within the man all the ardour, devotion and reverence of which he is
capable. Let him contemplate it with ecstasy, till his soul is filled with its
glory and its beauty; and then, putting forth all the strength which his long
practice of concentration had given him, let him make a determined effort to
raise his consciousness to that ideal, to merge himself in it, to become one
with it.
1516.
He may make that endeavour many times, and yet fail; but if he
perseveres, and if his attempt is made in all truth and unselfishness, there
will come a time when suddenly he knows that he has succeeded, when the blinding
light of the higher life bursts upon him, and he realises that ideal a
thousandfold more than ever before. Then he sinks back again into the light of
common day; yet that one momentary glimpse can never be forgotten, and even if
he goes no further, life will never look the same to him as it did before he
saw.
1517.
But if he persists in his endeavour, that splendid flash of glory will
come to him again and yet again, each time staying with him longer and longer,
until at last he will find himself able to raise his consciousness to that
higher level whenever he wishes-- to observe, to examine and explore that phase
of life just as he now does this; and thus he joins the ranks of those who
know, instead of guessing or vaguely hoping, and he becomes a power for
good in the world.
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