Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism Freedom I. ^[1]

Emancipation and Development.

Under this head we propose to give a series of articles, by which students of Occultism may be guided in their exertions to obtain occult knowledge and power. They are called “practical,” because they ought not to be only considered theoretically, but should be put into practice, that means, to be embodied in their every day life.

          “No Neophyte must have at his initiation one affection or desire that chains him to the world.”—Bulwer Lytton, “Zanoni.”

          It is said that the first step, which the Student of “Practical Occultism must make, is to renounce the vanities of the world.” This does not necessarily mean that he must break his family ties, throw away his means of support, avoid society, become a misanthrope and retire into a cave or a jungle, there perhaps to amuse himself with the morbid fancies of his imagination, and to continually crave internally for the very objects which he has pretended to renounce, and which he has given up externally. He may live in the world and yet not be of the world. His body and mind may be more or less engaged in the affairs of everyday life, and at the same time his spiritual faculties be constantly exercised. He may be “personally” in the world, and yet spiritually soar above it.

          Man has besides his physical body two sets of faculties, the intellectual and spiritual, and their powers correlate and interrelate with each other. If he employs his intellectual powers only on the physical plane and for material purposes, he becomes selfish and material. He concentrates, as it were, his powers into a small focus, which represents his “personality,” and the more they are concentrated the smaller will be the focus, the more the person will become little and selfish and lose sight of the whole, of which he as such is only an infinitesimal and insignificant part.

          On the other hand, if he prematurely attempts to send his spirit out into the regions of the unknown; that is, without having sufficiently developed and expanded his intellect, to act as a firm basis upon which to rest his spirituality, he will wander like a shadow through the realms of the infinite, and behold spiritual things without being able to comprehend them. He will become an “impractical man,” a superstitious fanatic and a dreamer. Too rapid growth in one direction to the exclusion of a corresponding growth in another, is detrimental to progress, and it is therefore necessary to discriminate properly, and to devolope the intellectual and spiritual powers in the right proportion.

          To “renounce the world” does not therefore mean to look with contempt upon the achievements of science, to remain ignorant of mathematics or philosophy, to take no interest in human progress, to avoid the duties belonging to the sphere in which we are born, or to neglect our surroundings; but it means to renounce selfishness, the love of self, the first angel of evil, or, according to Edwin Arnold,

“The sin of self, who in the universe

As in a mirror sees her fond face shown,

And crying, “I” would have the world say “I;”

And all things perish so if she endure.”

“Light of Asia.”

          The renunciation of selfishness is necessarily accompanied by spiritual growth.

          One of the first duties therefore which the Student of Occultism has to perform, is to divest his mind of the idea of “personality.” That means to begin by attaching less importance to “personalities,” personal things and personal feelings. lie must forget himself. He must not look upon his existence as being a permanent, unchanging and unchangeable entity, standing isolated amongst other isolated entities, and being separated from them by an impenetrable shell; but he must, consider himself as an integral part of an infinite power which embraces the universe, and whose forces are concentrated and brought to a focus in the body which he temporarily inhabits; into which body continually flow and from which are incessantly radiating the rays of the infinite sphere of Light, whose circumference is endless (nowhere) and whose centre is everywhere.

          To make this idea clear, we will examine men in his three different aspects.

1. 1. 1. It has often been demonstrated that the physical body of man can have no real or permanent individual, existence. We cannot see it, hear it or feel it, we only feel the effects which its actions produce, or, in other words, we feel the vibrations or convolutions of the forces, which, acting upon our senses, produce certain “mental impressions,” and these coming to our intellectual cognizance produce consciousness. Moreover the constituents of that temporary body continually change by the processes of “assimilation” and “elimination.” Tissues disappear slowly or quickly according to their nature or affinities, new ones take their places to be replaced in their turn by others, and the process continues as long as life lasts. Neither has the form of the physical body any permanency. It changes in size, shape and density as age advances, from the buoyant health of infancy and youth to the vigorous constitution of manhood or the grace and beauty of womanhood, up to the infirmities of decrepit old age, the forerunner of decay, death and putrefaction.
      2. There is no permanent individuality in the physical body; but is there any in the Mind or Intellect?

          To answer this question, we will first investigate the meaning of these words.

          The Intellect in conjunction with the Will is an active power, by which all mental impressions from the exterior world, coming through the senses, are drawn together as to a common centre or focus, and there being held together for a time by “Memory,” are applied to some object or purpose. By “Memory” is meant the passive power of forming and retaining in the focused condition the indelible impressions produced by thought in the Akasa or Astral Light. Now as time changes, so also the perceptions change. New perceptions replace the old ones, the will loses its power to hold them together, memories grow dim, and the intellect changes its form and mode of action. No grown up man has the same opinions he had when a child; what seems to him wise to-day appears to him foolish to-morrow; our ideas of right or wrong and our religious or philosophical views take their colouring from the modes of thought prevailing in the country in which we live and from the influences that are governing there. The intellect is born, grows and developes by change, and although this process may be delayed or extended indefinitely, still there must be a change similar to that of the physical body, and Micro can be no permanent individuality in the Mind.

          III. We come now to a consideration of man’s higher principles, the spiritual soul and the spirit. The majority of men possess the sixth principle only in an embryonic form, and many have not even yet a consciousness of its existence. It can therefore not be regarded as having any individuality at all, unless, accompanied with the higher portions of the “Mind,” it grows and unites itself with the seventh, the “One Life,” the one and eternal universal spirit. This divine spirit is a unity, and cannot be divided up into parts and “bottled up” in the different individual “personalities.’’ It cannot be drawn down to them, but they must rise up to it, and the higher they rise, the more do their mental and spiritual faculties expand. The more they amalgamate themselves with that principle, the more do they become one with the same, until finally each “individual” spirit embraces in its potentiality the universe and is comprised in the All, as the All is comprised in him.

          If this view is correct, then we find that man’s existence and activity are by no means limited to the confines of his material body; but must extend through all space. At the end of his cyclic evolution he will illumine all space, as he is now illuminated by the spiritual rays of the same to an extent proportionate to his capacity for attracting the said light.

          Man is a centre of forces, into which the rays of the universe converge. In this centre the work of Illusion begins, and to that centre is it confined. Effects are mistaken for causes, and phantasmagoric appearances are mistaken for realities. The mind revels in delights which are due to such causes as produce hallucinations, and desires are created for which there is no real necessity. As the rays of our sun are reflected from the dull surface of the insignificant pebble or the oyster shell, producing the manifold tinted colours of the rainbow, dancing and glittering in various hues as long as it is exposed to the sun, so do the rays proceeding from the objective world, flowing through our senses, reflect their images upon the mirror of our mind, creating phantoms and delusions, illusions and desires, and filling it with the products of its own imagination.

          To discriminate between what is real and what is unreal, to distinguish between the true and the false by means of the divine light of the spirit, is the first duty of the true Theosophist. In performing this duty he finds that the love of self is illusory; that there is no permanent real “self” and no individual existence except such as embraces all mankind, and when he once fully grasps this idea and is willing to let his “personality’’ die and disappear, then the eternal life of spiritual consciousness has begun to dawn upon him, and his immortality as an integral and individual form of the universal spirit has commenced.

          Bulwer Lytton’s “Zanoni” says: “For the accomplishments of whatever is great and lofty, the clear perception of the truths is the first requisite.” From the fragments of truth, which have been variously displayed in the course of ages, and which are hinted at in the various “sacred” books, but which more recently have been explained to us in their true esoteric sense and in a language better adapted to our times and more comprehensible to us, it appears that, as spirit descends into matter, the universal spiritual monad on its downward progression becomes first differentiated in the animal kingdom; that is, it breaks up into different rays of various hues (characteristics) overshadowing the different classes and species collectively, and further on, on a higher scale their “personalities” separately, until it reaches its highest degree of differential isolation in man.^[2]

          Here it commences to reascend, but now not as a passive ray of the universal spirit but endowed with positive activity and accompanied with such portions of the personality’s lower principle, as have been able to become absorbed into the same. The spirit is the same in the descending as in the ascending ray; and is the same in each “individual.” But as it ascends each ray becomes endowed with a different hue by the “personality” of each “individual” (the higher parts of the fifth principle). The more intellect has been evolved, the more of it will there be to follow the spirit in its upward flight and to give it a distinct character or colour; but if the development of the intellect has been retarded, or if such as has been developed has been applied to material or “personal” purposes, the less will there be of it to combine with the spiritual ray, and pure spirit will be proportionally bare and unclothed by intelligence and devoid of active power, and must either return to its original state or be compelled to return again to earth, to attract to itself a new combination of Manas. The more the intellect is developed and expanded, the more will the spiritual state and spiritual consciousness be established as on a firm basis, and the spirit, invested by the divine attributes of Wisdom and Love, reaches out into the infinite ocean of the universe and embraces in its potentiality the All.

          A change begins now to manifest itself in the mind of the beginner, who has reached that state of development, in which he looks upon his own “personality” as being of little importance. It is not only his own “personality” that now appears to him in that light, but also every other “personality” as proportionately insignificant and small. Man appears to him only as the “centralisation” of an idea; humanity at large appears to him like the grains of sand on the shores of an infinite ocean. Fortune, fame, love, luxury, &c., assume in his conception the importance of soap bubbles, and he has no hesitation to relinquish them as the idle playthings of children. Neither can such a renunciation be called “a sacrifice,” for grown up boys or girls do not “sacrifice” their popguns and dolls, they simply do not want them any longer. In proportion as their minds expand, do they reach out for something more useful, and as man’s spirit expands, his surroundings and even the planet on which he lives appear to him small as a landscape seen from a great distance or from a high mountain; while at the same time his conception of the infinite which surrounds him grows larger and assumes a gigantic form.

          The feeling produced by such an expansion of mind is true contemplation and in a potentialized degree is called “extasis” or “trance.” This expansion of our existence “robs us of a country and a home,” by making us citizens of the grand universe, lifts us up from the narrow confines of the “Real” to the unlimited realm of the Ideal, and, releasing man from the prison houses of mortal clay, loads him to the sublime splendour of the Eternal and Universal Life.

          But “the mirror of the soul cannot reflect both earth and heaven, and the one vanishes from the surface, as the other is glassed upon its deep.” How then can this grand renunciation of self and expansion of the spirit be accomplished?

          There is a magic word which is the key to all mysteries, which opens the places, in which are hidden spiritual, intellectual and material treasures, and by which we gain power over the seen and unseen. This word is “Determination.” If we desire to accomplish a great object, we must learn to concentrate upon the same all our desires. Whether the object is good or evil, the effect is invariably proportionate to the cause.

          The power of will is omnipotent, but it can only be put into action by a firm and resolute determination and fixedness of purpose. A vacillating will accomplishes nothing. He whose heart trembles with abject fear to give up his old habits, inclinations and desires, who is afraid to fight and subdue his passions, who is the slave of self and clings with cowardly apprehension to the delusions of life, can accomplish nothing. Vices do not cling to man, but man clings to them and is afraid to let go his hold and loose his grasp, either because he overestimates their value and utility, or, perhaps, imagines that by doing so his illusive self may be precipitated into the infinite nothing and be dashed to pieces upon the fancied rocks below. Only he, who is willing to let his “personality” die, can live, and only when personal feelings and desires are put to rest then man becomes immortal.

          How can he, that has not the power to command himself, become able to command others? A servant, to become a master, must first become free, and freedom, is only acquired by determination and will put into action. An Adept is not made; he must grow to become such by his own exertions. He who dives into the depths of the, earth loses the sight of the sun, and he who sinks into matter cannot perceive the spirit, he who is wedded to wrong ideas or opinions, or chained to superstitions, cannot behold the truth. Old ideas, loves and opinions die hard. They have grown up with us, we have become attached to them, and it is just as painful to see them die as to lose an esteemed relative or friend.

          They are often our own children. We have created or adopted, nursed, nourished and trained them; they have been our companions for years, and it seems cruel and sacrilegious to drive them away. They appeal to our mercy, and, when once dismissed, return again, clamouring for our hospitality and expostulating their rights. But we shall get rid of them easily, if we call to our aid a powerful genius, whose name is Determination. He will put into action the Will, and Will is a powerful giant without any sentimentality, who, when once set into motion, becomes irresistible and of whom we propose to speak on some further occasion.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism II.

The Power of Will. ^[3]

The Will is the first of all powers; for through the will of the supreme cause all things came into existence.— Van Helmont.

          The most abstruse metaphysical problems become sometimes comparatively easy to comprehend, if we continually keep in mind, that man is not an isolated individuality, separated from the other individualities by which he is surrounded; but that he is one of the central focusses of a universally diffused divine essence or “Mind;” that his “sphere” intermingles, influences or is influenced by not only every other individuality in the immediate vicinity of its central focus, called the physical body; but that his soul, like the sun which radiates its light to the most distant planets, sends its influence to a greater or less extent to all other souls, and is felt by them according to its power to give and, according to their capacity, to receive.

          Will is the power, which Mind possesses over its own operations. Mind being an universally existing principle, must be able to exhibit its powers wherever Mind exists, and to put Will into action, wherever it can sufficiently concentrate the same. The action of the Will is therefore not necessarily confined within the limits of the material body; but as Mind expands, so expands the field of its activity, and if sufficiently developed, it will be able to exercise its influence at long distances upon animate and even under certain circumstances upon inanimate objects.

          Occult science has long ago discovered the fact, and it has always been affirmed by the greatest thinkers of the ages, that there exists only one absolute reality, the supreme cause of everything that exists, and the ultimate of everything. In itself it is unchangeable, but it appears to us in different states and innumerable forms. Some call it God, some call it Matter, some call it Force, and others call it Spirit. It is to us necessarily as incomprehensible as absolute Space, Motion and Duration, because these abstract ideas refer to Infinity and Perfection and cannot be fully understood by finite and imperfect minds.

          According to Plato, the primordial Being is an emanation of the Demiurgic Mind, which contains from eternity the idea of the “to be created” world within itself, and which idea He produces out of Himself by the power of His will. The Cosmos is looked upon as consisting of Will and its Manifestation.

          The manifestations of that cosmic Will result either in formless exhibitions of power, or they take forms, which may be classified into the elemental, mineral, vegetable, animal, human or spiritual kingdoms, and which forms are always changing and therefore are called illusive. Whether their existence is confined to a second of time, or extended over millions of ages, they are nevertheless impermanent creations of the moment, and like a phantasmagoric picture thrown upon a screen by the rays of a “magic lantern,” they dissolve, when the light, which forced them into existence, ceases to act, and the duration and solidity of their existence depend on the amount of time during which they are acted on by that light and on the amount of intensity of the same.

          The natural universe itself is only a product of the eternal and universal mind, projected into existence by the omnipotent power of the same. It is the “materialisation” of a divine idea, and appears to man in an objective form. Such forms may be visible or invisible to the eye of man; because their visibility depends on their power to reflect light, and their tangibility depends on the density of their substance. Invisible gases, such as Oxygen and Nitrogen, have been solidified and therefore been rendered visible and tangible, and the most solid substances are made invisible and intangible by the application of heat.

          The products of the action of the cosmic Will are therefore not all visible to us; in fact we can see under ordinary circumstances only a small part of their sum. No one doubts that there is an immense amount of invisible matter in the universe, whether cometary or otherwise; but there is also a superabundance of invisible organised forms in nature.

          Bulwer Lytton in his “Zanoni” says :—

     “life is the one all-pervading principle, and even the thing that seems to die and putrefy, but engenders new life and changes to new forms of matter. Reasoning then by analogy—if not a leaf, it not a drop of water, but is, no less than yonder star—a habitable and breathing world—nay, if even man himself is a world to other lives, and millions and myriads dwell in the rivers of his blood, and inhabit man’s frame as man inhabits earth, common sense (if your schoolmen had it) would suffice to teach that the circumfluent Infinite, which yon call space—the boundless Impalpable, which divides earth from the moon and stars—is filled also with its correspondent and appropriate life.”

          And farther on he says :—

“In the drop of water you see how the animalculæ vary; how vast and terrible are some of those monstermites as compared with others. Equally so with the inhabitants of the atmosphere. Some of surpassing wisdom, some of horrible malignity; some hostile as fiends to man; others gentle as messengers between Earth and Heaven.”

          Our “practical and scientific” age is only too ready to look upon the above quotation as the fanciful effusion of a prominent story-teller, whose object it was to amuse himself and the public; and the writer of this present article has neither the means nor the desire to convince sceptics, and to demonstrate to them the existence of the so-called elementals. He has, however, reason to believe that such invisible, but substantial and variously shaped, beings exist, and that they, by the educated will of man, can be made conscious, intelligent, visible and even solid and sometimes useful. This assertion is supported by the concurrent testimony found in the writings of Rosicrucians, Alchemists, Cabbalists and Adepts.

          Will is a universally existing principle, and the reason why the scientific world generally has not yet come to an understanding of this principle, is because there is never to be found any arbitrary manifestation of the same, neither could there he any such arbitrary manifestation, because Will, guided by immutable laws, acts like a blind force. It evolves forms either consciously or unconsciously according to the principle by which it is guided, and is subject to law. If guided by the higher cosmic intelligences, it must be subject to the law of harmony and justice and cannot be arbitrary. It will perhaps be well, here again to refer to Bulwer Lytton, when he exclaims: “How all our wisdom shrinks into nought, compared with that which gives the meanest herb its virtues.”

          As the macrocosmic Will of the solar system consciously or unconsciously evolves forms, so does the Will of microcosmic man. If we form a concrete or even an abstract idea in our mind, we give it a shape and create an existence, which may either remain subjective or become objective, and even material according to the means applied for that purpose. Every thought creates a subjective form, which may be seen and perceived not only by the originator of that thought; but also by other persons endowed with abnormal faculties of perception. Mahatma K. H. in his letters to Mr. Sinnett says:—

“We see a vast difference between the two qualities of two equal amounts of energy expanded by two men, of whom one, let us suppose, is on his way to his daily quiet work, and another on his way to denounce a fellow creature at the police station.”

          And further on he says :—

“Because every thought of man upon being evolved passes into another world, and becomes an active entity by associating itself, coalescing we might term it, with an elemental—that is to say, with one of the semi-intelligent forces of the kingdoms. It survives as an active intelligence—a creature of the mind’s begetting—for a longer or shorter period, proportionate with the original intensity of the cerebral action which generated it. Thus a good thought is perpetuated as an active, beneficent power, an evil one as a maleficent demon. And so man is continually peopling his current in space with the offspring of his fancies, desires, impulses and passions; a current which re-acts upon any sensitive or nervous organisation, which comes in contact with it, in proportion to its dynamic intensity. The Buddhist calls this his “Skandha;” the Hindu gives it the name of “Karma.” The adept evolves these shapes consciously; other men throw them off unconsciously.”

          While writing these lines we notice in an American Journal a curious illustration of the above, and of which we will give the following extract from an account given by W. Whitworth:^[iv]—

          From my earliest Infancy I was said to be an odd, queer tempered child, with exquisite sensitiveness to all outward impressions. I well remember the wonderful development that sprang into being, when I attended a musical party during my fourteenth year. A German professor was playing on an organ, when I was suddenly spell-bound, as my eyes became rivetted on a host, of strange appearances moving about the keyboard, that seemed to dart up and flit about with each note and chord echoing forth. They were veritable beings—Lilliputian sprites, fairies or gnomes of astonishing smallness, yet as perfect in form and feature as any of the larger people in the room. They were clothed in the most fantastic garb, of every imaginable color, though white, red and green were largely predominating, along with a great deal of shimmering silver and gold ornaments, mingled with the gayest and most beautiful flowers.

          It was also apparent that these strange beings were divided into sexes, as was shown in their different style of apparel and features. Not a note was struck that did not produce its separate sprite, either singly or in combined twos and threes, and which seemed to start, up directly, each from its appropriate key, and move about in exact time and concert with the rest. The thought struck me: ‘Are these the essence or soul of music?’ They appeared and acted in such perfect accord with the measure and sentiment of the theme, moving to the pleasing rhythm of the waltz, the solemn tread of the funeral march or the swift coated rattle of the jig-dance; their tiny throats giving voice to the tune, so that it seemed as if they must be the very spirit of the sounds peeling forth.

          In the quick measures, how madly they danced, waving their plumed hats and fans in very ecstasy, and darting to and fro in inconceivable rapidity, with feet beating time in rain-like patter of accord. Quick as a flash, when the music changed to the solemn cadence of a march for the dead, the airy things vanished, and in their place came black-robed gnomes, dressed like cowled monks, sour-faced Puritans or mutes in the black garb of a funeral procession. Strangest of all, on every tiny face was expressed the sentiment of the music, so that I could instantly understand the thought and feeling that was intended to be conveyed. In a wild burst of sounding grief came a rush of mothers, tear eyed and with disheveled hair, beating their breasts and wailing piteous lamentations over their dead loved ones. These would be followed by plumed knights with shield and spear, and hosts of fiery troops, mounted and on foot, redhanded in the fiery strife of bloody battle, as the clang of martial music came leaping from the keyboard, and ever as each change brought its new set of sprites, the old ones would vanish into the air as suddenly as they had come. Whenever a discord was struck, the tiny sprite that appeared was some misshapen creature, with limbs and dress awry; usually a hump-backed dwarf, whose voice, was guttural and rasping, and his every movement ungainly and disagreeable.

          In my twenty-fifth year I was just as suddenly transfixed in astonishment, by the appearance of such fairy like beings, coming from the lips of persons talking. With every uttered word darted forth one of these strange creatures, clothed, and in every action the very counterpart of the feeling conveyed in the uttered speech. It was on the occasion of hearing the conversation of two sisters, who had been long separated, and were now pouring forth their unchecked wealth of affection for each other. The little beings that trooped from their lips were transcendentally beautiful, and fitly expressed in form, features and attire the words of love that seemed to bring thorn forth.

          On one never-to-be forgotten occasion, I was a pained witness to a scene of living faithfulness on one side, and a treacherous double faced treacherous duplicity on the other. A fair young girl and her departing lover had met to exchange greetings, ere he went on a distant journey. Each word of hers gave forth the same beautiful radiant fairies I had seen from the lips of the sisters. But while the front half of his that were turned to the girl, were equally fair to look upon, and smiled with all the radiant seeming of undying affection, the rear half of each was black and devilish, with fiery snakes and red forked tongues protruding from their cruel lips, as gleams of wicked cunning danced in sneaking sidelong glances from the corners of the half closed eyes. These dark backgrounds of the little figures wore horrible to look at, ever shifting, dodging and scorning to shut up within themselves, as they sought to keep only bright and honest seeming towards the trusting girl, and hold the black deception out of sight. And it was noticeable that while a halo of cloudless radiance surrounded the good outside seeming, a pall of thick vapor hung like a canopy of unbroken gloom above the other.

          Most beautiful of all were the tiny sprites that flew from the lips of a fond mother to her only child. They seemed to float in a fleecy cloud of whitest silver, and fall into the bonny curls of the child’s head, sprinkling flowers and sweet incense in a ceaseless shower of blessing all down to its feet. But terrible was the change, when I saw the horrible imps that leaped forth from the cruel mouth of an ungrateful son. The tear-dimmed mother was softly pleading with him. The coarse sharp response of an ingrate brute darted forth in forms like fiery fiends, with hissing breath and lowering eyes; and as the long bladed barbed knives that seemed to tear and rend the soft white bosom of the mother to pieces, as it was thrust to the hilt with every uttered word, the sweet lowing sprites, that came from her quivering lips, were thrust aside and dashed to pieces on the walls beyond.

          The double faced gnomes I saw come forth from scores of lips, from those of the time-serving, lying minister in the pulpit, from glad-hearted people, hanging around the bed of a wealthy relative, with hypocritical tears and false words of sorrowing regret, and from the deceptive utterances of deceitful friends.

          In conclusion I would suggest: it maybe that our every uttered word is an absolute living entity, sent forth for weal or woe, whose mission, once started, can never after be changed, but must go on through the ages, performing the work of good or ill we established with its birth; and that the fruits of this good or ill must be charged to those who sent it forth. In view of this fearful possibility, what a constant guard should we keep, that no word, however light in seeming, is launched forth on any other mission but that of good.

          But it is asserted by the sceptic that such exhibitions of force have no objective existence, and that such forms are only subjective creations of the fancy. Let us therefore examine what is the difference between objective and subjective representations?

          The terms “objective” and “subjective” are misleading, and the distinction between them is only imaginary. “Subjective and objective” express the distinction, which in analysing every intelligent act, we necessarily make between ourselves the conscious subject, and that of which we are conscious, the object. It follows, therefore, that whether a form appear objective or subjective to us, will only depend on the circumstances, under which such existing forms come to our consciousness, and it is a matter of choice whether we desire to consider them objective or subjective. Persons who cannot distinguish between ideal conceptions and materialized ideas are called hallucinated; but by the power of an educated Will their “hallucinations” may become more or less materialized, objective and visible to others. An idea once formed has an existence, and can take a bodily form, if the proper means to that effect are applied. On the other hand a person who declares that he does not believe in the existence of anything that he has not seen, declares himself to be insane; for if we accept his words as an honest expression of his opinion, such a man would not believe that he has any brains, because he has never seen them. However he believes that he has brains, and arrives at that belief by logical reasoning.

          It cannot be truly said that only those things have any objective existence which we can perceive with our senses; for our senses continually deceive and mislead us. There are innumerable things the existence of which no sane person will deny; while that which we perceive with our senses frequently has no existence at all. In fact, we do not see, hear, feel, taste or smell any external object; we only perceive the impressions which they make upon our mind through the medium of our senses. We do not see the real nature of the things at all, but only their symbolical representations. Sight, is a language by which nature speaks to our mind and our understanding, the same is a result of education and practice.

          But it is said that “objective” is something belonging to what is external to the “mind.” If man were an isolated individuality, and his “mind” only confined to the space in the human scull [skull] occupied by the brain, or if it were—as some physiologists will have it—only a “function” of the material brain, this definition might hold good, and we might then perhaps better say: “Objective is something belonging to what is external to our brain,”

          The latest modern authority on the Physiology and Pathology of the “Mind”^[v] says “The brain is the chief organ from which the force called the mind is evolved.” And “by mind, I understand a force produced by nervous action, and in man especially by the action of the brain.” Such a narrow-minded definition of course excludes or renders impossible every explanation of occult phenomena, such as mind-reading, action of mind in the distance, clairvoyance and hundred other facts, which are denied belief by modern “scientists,” because they do not conform with their theories, but which are at present disputed by nobody who has patiently, investigated the same.

          It is not our object at present to demonstrate the absurdities of modern science; it will be sufficient for our present purpose to say that “Mind is a universal principle, which can be focalised in the brain, and the brain is at once the physical centre of attraction and the laboratory of the Mind.”

          If this is true, if mind is universal, arid if its potentiality reaches out far beyond the limits of the physical brain, then it follows that everything that exists must exist within that universal mind, and it is only a question of what conditions are necessary to bring those things to the cognition of our consciousness in the silent laboratory of the individual brain.

          The phenomena of sympathy, antipathy, clairvoyance, clairaudience, psychometry, etc., prove that the part of our mind which resides in the brain is capable of receiving impressions otherwise than by the avenues of the physical senses only. It is therefore simply a matter of judgment to say under what conditions the things which we cognize exist. What may appear subjective to one man or to one plane of existence, may appear objective to another, and there can be no real difference between the two states. The only difference that can exist between an idea formed in the mind, and one that is expressed in visible and tangible form, lies in their different planes of existence. In one condition the idea exists invisible to physical eyes, in the other the idea is more or less materialised, so as to be able to reflect light and thereby come to the cognizance of our physical senses. This materialisation is effected by the either conscious or unconscious action of the Will, or in other words: An idea exists as an image in the mirror of the Mind, and by the exercise of Will that Idea obtains density proportionate to the amount of will-power exerted for that purpose, a form according to the desire which guides the Will, and a perfection according to the intelligence by which it is applied. How to develop this will-power will be the subject of our next discussion.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism III.

Development of Will. ^[6]

You may be master of the Cabala and Chemistry; but you must also be master over flesh and blood.—Bulwer Lytton.

          In our last letter on “Practical Instructions” we bare attempted to show that thoughts and ideas, passions and desires, are not what are commonly understood as evanescent or temporary states of the molecules of the brain; but things, which by associating themselves with the semi-intelligent forces of nature, may become living realities and powerful instruments for good or for evil. Thoughts create desire, desire sets the will in motion, the motion of the will produces force and force gives shape to matter or substance.

          There are three possibilities by which we may deal with these forces. We may either allow them to control us and become subservient to them, or we may associate ourselves with them and thereby make them our co-laborers, or we may become their masters and command them by the power of our will.

          A person that allows himself to be guided entirely by his lower impulses and animal desires, is either a criminal or a maniac, and it is very difficult to draw the line between the two. We read occasionally of cases where the most horrible crimes have been committed without any apparent provocation, and which can only be explained by the fact that the perpetrators either did not have the power or did not make the necessary efforts to resist such impulses.^[vii]

          The oftener man gives way to such impulses or influences, the less becomes his power of resistance. His condition finally becomes one of passive evil and, after death, his personality disintegrates and perishes in the eighth sphere. The second possibility is to associate oneself with the evil powers of nature, to enter into communication with or propitiate the elementals, to make them his co-operators in evil, or, in mediæval language, “to make a compact with the evil ones.” Under this head come the practices of Black Magic, which, although they may require a certain concentration of Will, do not require any high or enlightened development of the same. Instead of expanding the mind, such practices produce a contraction of the same. They consist in establishing an extraordinary amount of selfishness and isolation. The will is made forcible by certain exercises, such as the careless endurance of physical pain, or by concentrating all mental energies upon some material object. By such practices the “Black Magician” may obtain the assistance of the elementals, and through them produce some occult phenomena. His condition becomes one of active evil, and the consequence is not only the dual destruction of his personality, but also that of his individuality.

          The third possibility, and the only method to be recommended, is to develop our will power, so as to make the forces of nature our slaves and to control them. To gain the mastery over these forces is the most important step for the student of occultism, and the great secret, without a knowledge of which no further advance can be made, and the only method by which that power can be obtained, is by continual practice; that is, by a continual exercise of his will in the right direction. This does not mean only a continual desire to suppress selfish desires, but a continuous effort to accomplish and accumulate such work as is useful for the real progress of mankind. Like everything else in its right place, the animal nature also has its uses, and the lower principles are necessary factors at a certain state of evolution. They are the soil into which the tree of life extends its roots, and from which the higher principles draw substance and strength. A man can be born without material desires and impulses, if the “Ego” or monad has already conquered them; but for average man to be born without material desires, would be in the present state of evolution neither desirable nor useful. A man, for instance, without any combativeness would have no courage or self-reliance and would be a moral as well as a physical coward, without destructiveness he would have little energy to subdue evil, without acquisitiveness he would acquire no knowledge, and an entire absence of amativeness would probably make him narrow-minded, self-centred and selfish. Neither is it at all desirable that the so-called “fall of man” (the descent of matter into spirit) should never have taken place; for in that case man would have remained in the state of blissful ignorance of an elementary spirit, while now he obtains knowledge and thereby becomes like God.

          If the Will is a universal force, it necessarily follows that there can be only one supreme Will in the universe, although it may manifest itself in different forms, and the more we unite our individual Will with the supreme Will and co-operate with the same, the more our Will becomes powerful; while if we attempt to bring the action of our individual Will in opposition to the supreme Will, the consequences are necessarily disastrous to ourselves and lead to isolation and death. The Will to become powerful must become free from material desires. If we desire an object, we do not necessarily attract that object, but the object rarely attracts us and we may become its slaves. Eliphas Levi says: “The Will accomplishes everything which it does not desire,” and illustrations of the truth of this paradox are seen in every-day life. We see people spending their whole lives in vain and useless efforts to obtain riches, and either dying in poverty, or even if they accomplish their object, craving for more, and leading a life more miserable and wretched than the homeless beggar in the street; we see the office-seeker desiring power, bowing before ruffians, and the result is frequently an ignominious failure; we see the fop who wishes to be admired by women usually ridiculed and rejected by intelligent women and we often see those who seek happiness in external pleasures becoming disgusted with life and ending it by their own hands. The safest way to become rich is by not craving for riches; because if we are contented with what we have, even if it be nothing, we shall be richer than the miser who possesses much and wants still more. If we desire power, we must rise morally and intellectually above others and be willing to sacrifice our own desires for their benefit, and power will come to us unasked. If we desire love, let us distribute all the love we have to all mankind, and the love of all whose love it is desirable to possess will descend upon us like the rain descends upon earth. If we desire happiness, we must be willing to give up our selfishness and we shall find happiness within ourselves.

          A consideration of the above makes it evident that the development of the will and the attainment of occult powers is simply a natural result of evolution. Many incarnations may be necessary for average man to arrive at the state of perfection attained by the Adept, but the process may be hastened by a continuous effort of the will. Man in his youth longs for the material pleasures of earth, for the gratification of his physical body. As he advances in age he throws away his playthings and reaches out for something more substantial. He enters perhaps into intellectual pursuits, and not, infrequently, after a lifelong study, comes to the conclusion that he has been wasting his time by running after a shadow. Perhaps love steps in and he may think himself the most fortunate of mortals, only to find out sooner or later that ideals can only be found in the ideal world. He then becomes convinced of the emptiness of the shadows he has been pursuing, and like the winged butterfly, emerging from the chrysalis, he stretches out his feelers into the realm of the infinite spirit, and is astonished to find a radiant sun where he only expected to find darkness and death. Some arrive at this light sooner, others arrive later, and many are lured away by some illusive light, which they mistake for the sun, and scorch their wings and perish.

          Life is a continuous battle between good and evil, between the results of a previous Karma and the efforts of the Will to overcome them, between man’s higher nature and his lower impulses and man’s future depends on which will come out victorious. But this battle does not last for ever if determined efforts are made by the will. A set of animal impulses, once thoroughly subdued, are not liable to assert themselves again, and the more man exercises his will the more will he gain in strength.

          There are two gigantic obstacles in the way of true progress: the misconception of what we believe to be God and the misconception of what we believe to be Man. As long as man believes in a personal God who distributes favors to some and punishes others,—a God that can be reasoned with, persuaded or pacified—he will keep himself within the narrow circle of his ignorance and his mind cannot sufficiently expand. To be selfish and at the same time to continually think of some place of personal enjoyment or heaven, does not assist in man’s progression. If such a man desists from doing a wicked act or denies himself material pleasure, he does not do so from any innate love of good, but either because he expects a reward for his “sacrifice,” or because his fear of God makes him a coward. We must do good because we want to do good, and not from fear of punishment or from hope for any personal consideration. The gods help those that help themselves, and the wise expect nothing but justice. The wise man knows that he is only a part of the universal whole; that by doing good to others he also benefits himself, and that by injuring others he becomes his own executioner. To love all is to him a necessity, and the love of self appears to him illusive and foolish.

          The knowledge of God and the knowledge of Man are ultimately identical, and h who knows himself, knows God. If we understand the nature of the divine powers within us, it will not be difficult to unite our Will with the supreme Will of the cosmos; we shall then be no longer subject to external influences, but we shall control them; instead of being the slaves of Nature, we shall become her masters, and instead of being ruled by demons, we shall become rulers and gods.

          This is, however, a doctrine which is liable to be misunderstood, and a misunderstanding of which may lead to consequences of a most serious nature. To unite our will with the universal will, does not simply mean a sentimental acquiescence with the decrees of an inexorable fate and a patient indifference to whatever may happen; much less does it mean a submission of our will to the will of an ignorant or wicked person; but it means a strong and active desire to accomplish whatever may be in our power for the good of humanity. An old doctrine which often turns up in the Middle Ages, and was especially prevailing among the convents of France and Spain, says: “The devout having offered up and annihilated their own selves exist no longer but in God. Thenceforth they can do no wrong. The better part of them is so divine, that it no longer knows what the other is doing.” This has been misunderstood by the numerous monks and nuns of these times, who thought that after they had worked themselves to a certain degree into the favor of God by confession, castigation and penances, they might thenceforth do as they pleased and commit the most outrageous acts of profligacy and injustice without being made responsible for their acts; and as the clergy were considered to be the especial favorites of Divinity and God’s deputies, the people would often submit entirely their own wills to the desires of clerical scoundrels, who did not hesitate to assert their authority by torture and fire. They became indeed irresponsible beings, because by associating themselves with their animal natures they became brutalized, and the ‘‘better part of them” did no longer know what the other was doing, because having separated themselves from their higher principles and having merged themselves into the lower ones, they had no “better parts” any more. They became “devils” instead of becoming “gods.”

          To sacrifice one’s self means to subdue the lower desires and strengthen the higher ones; to unite one’s will with the divine will, is to want nothing else but the good, to live up to one’s highest conceptions of justice and truth, and to have one’s actions always guided by a universal love for humanity. It means not only to desire the good, but to dare to do it. To accomplish this, it is necessary that our highest conceptions of such abstract ideas should be correct. It is sometimes said, that it does not make any difference what a man believes, so long as he acts rightly; but a person cannot be certain to act rightly, unless he knows what is right, and we therefore often see the most horrible acts of injustice committed in the name of justice. The belief of the majority is not always the correct belief, and the voice of conscience and humanity is often drowned in the clamor of a superstition based upon an erroneous theological doctrine. An erroneous belief is undoubtedly detrimental to progress, and a belief to be useful must be based on knowledge. The true development of will depends therefore on the attainment of knowledge, because knowledge establishes faith and without faith the will cannot have much power.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism IV.

Knowledge. ^[8]

“In dreams commences all human knowledge.”—Bulwer Lytton.

The Mind, which has been purified from all selfish desires and is filled with a strong will and determination to learn the truth, is thereby duly and truly prepared to enter the temple of knowledge, which signifies the attainment of experience coupled with a clear perception of causes and their effects. There are two ways open to the attainment of knowledge. One, comparable to the slow and tedious work of ascending a river from its mouth, is to investigate effects and to try to find out their causes; the other is to ascend mentally through all the brambles and briars which matter put in our way, to the infinite source of all, and from there to trace the courses of the laws and their actions and witness the effects. The first method is that usually followed by modern science, and resembles the wanderings of a man around the periphery of a large circle attempting to find its centre. The occultist, although not neglecting the inductive method of reasoning, prefers to unite himself with the centre of the universe, and from thence to survey the infinite all; in other words, he attempts to bring his whole being in consonance with the universal mind, to enter mentally into the very centre of things, and thereby to obtain true knowledge.

          To do this requires an immense effort and perseverance, and the average scientist, finding it easier to perfect his physical instruments than to perfect his morals and educate his spiritual faculties, can only obtain imperfect knowledge or a knowledge of a few details.

          To bring oneself in harmony with the Divine Mind does not mean to think occasionally of “God” and “Heaven,” or to go through a prescribed form of worship or ceremony, but to establish a continuous identity of molecular vibration between the spiritual part of man and the universal spirit; it means to continually live in one’s higher consciousness which is the object of true contemplation.

          To make this more clear, it will be necessary to speak again of the constitution of man and his states of consciousness. Every one, whose nature has not become thoroughly brutalised, knows that he has at least two sets of feelings and attractions. One set drags him down to earth and makes him cling with a firm grasp to material necessities and enjoyments; the other set, lifting him up into the region of the unknown, makes him forget the allurements and distractions of matter, and by bringing him nearer to the realm of abstract ideas of the good, the true and the beautiful, gives him satisfaction and happiness. The greatest philosophers and poets have recognised this fact of double consciousness; and, from a mixture of the two, results the normal consciousness of the average human being.

          The animal consciousness of man is that unreasoning brute instinct, which impels him to continually seek for the gratification of his own material desires, irrespective of the rights of others. A man, under the predominant guidance of his material desires, has his mental energies mainly concentrated in his lower consciousness, and is proportionally unable to distinguish between right and wrong. He may be held within certain bounds through fear of punishment or hope of reward, but if his impulses become stronger than his hopes and fears, he becomes a maniac or a criminal. The condition of a person, who is fully subjugated by his animal consciousness, is forcibly illustrated in cases of so called obsession. In such cases the impulses of rage, greed, jealousy, &c, are predominant, while the reasoning faculties are entirely dormant. The “subject” will use foul language, act like a brute, and it is not surprising that people, unacquainted with psychology, should believe such a person to be possessed by the devil.

          The spiritual consciousness of man is the other extreme, and is exhibited in the highest states of ecstasy or trance, which ecstatic state must not be confounded with the cataleptic state of the “obsessed.” In that exalted state the mind of man enters the higher consciousness of his spirit and unites itself temporarily more or less with the spiritual soul. The ecstatic utters exalted ideas in proportion as his spiritual union with that consciousness is complete, exhibits a knowledge of things, which, in his normal condition, he is unable to understand, and it is not to be wondered at, that the spiritualist should regard persons in such a condition as being “possessed” by a superior spirit or a “departed soul and as the drunken imbecile or epileptic, on awaking from his state of “obsession,” is often horrified when told about his conduct during that condition, of which he remembers nothing; so the “medium” will remember nothing of the sights seen or the language uttered during the trance.

          Between the animal and spiritual consciousness is that which in the present state of evolution of mankind may be considered the normal consciousness of man. There was a time in the history of man’s evolution, perhaps millions of years ago, when he was entirely guided by his lower impulses, there will be a time—and it is our business to try to hasten its arrival—when man’s spiritual consciousness will be his normal one; but at present man is placed about midways between the animal and the “god,” and is neither entirely guided by his instincts and impulses, nor entirely by his conscience and intuition. He is guided more or less by his reason, the middle ground between instinct and intuition; but his reasoning cannot be perfect so long as it is not based on perfect knowledge, which can only be obtained by contemplation, meditation and experience.

          By “contemplation” we do not mean a rendering “passive” of the mind, but the study of an idea. If we merely “contemplate” or look at an object, without exerting our mental facilities, we simply render the Mind a blank, and open it as a play-ground for, and subject to, the very forces we desire to control. The laws of the revolution of planets, the principles of light and electricity, the relations between spirit and matter, &c., were not discovered by staring at a spot on the wall, but by a deep study of cause and effect. To contemplate, far from signifying a passivity of the mind, means to bring it into the highest state of activity, to elevate oneself mentally into the region of thought and to cultivate a scientific and artistic imagination.

          A high degree of that state is true active clairvoyance or Divine illumination, and is very different from the ordinary clairvoyance, which is induced by drugs, narcotics, anæsthetics or mechanical means, by which the ties which fasten the astral part to the physical body, become loosened, and allow the former to attain imperfect impressions from the Astral Light. A pure and well developed somnambule may come near that state; but while the somnambule is dependent on a magnetiser, and on awaking from her slumber remembers nothing of the impressions received during that state, the adept, who has assimilated his spiritual consciousness with his normal state, enters that condition at will and remains in full possession of the impressions received. P. B. Randolph says:—

          “No curtain hides from view the spheres Elysian;

          Save those poor shells of half transparent dust;

          While all that blinds the spiritual vision,

          Is pride and hate end lust.”

          But there is furthermore a difference between seeing a thing and understanding it. Even if the veil were suddenly withdrawn from the eyes of the uninitiated seer, he would only be dazzled like a man who has been born blind, and is afterwards made to see. Overwhelmed by new experiences and unfamiliar sensations, he would be unable to judge and discriminate properly; but the adept, whose powers have grown with his knowledge, not only understands what he sees, but having learned the laws which govern the universe, he uses the same and becomes a co-worker with nature.

          To know we must learn, and to learn we must use such means as are best adapted to our present condition. A pure but ignorant person, if thrown into the highest state of conscious ecstasy, would not comprehend what he sees, and would probably be made insane; while the most fearless and learned man, as long as his mind is clouded by selfishness and prejudice, cannot enter that state. For this reason the inductive and deductive methods of learning must go hand in hand, and great learning must be combined with a corresponding freedom from selfishness. If it was exacted from the ancient student of occultism that he should be well versed in mathematics and music, it was intended that his mind should have been habituated to intense reasoning and his soul attuned to the divine harmonies of the universe. We therefore do not depreciate or belittle the accomplishments of modern science; we consider them as extremely useful and necessary to obtain that state which leads to the initiation into higher truths that are inaccessible to modem science; but we deny that the inductive method of modern science alone can do more than lead us to the approaches of true knowledge.

          An ancient sage says: “The first step towards obtaining knowledge is to know that thou art ignorant.” A scientist, who thinks that he already knows everything to perfection, except perhaps some details, will be unable to learn much more than these details; but the Adept knows that normal man, in his onward progress from the beginning of his existence up to his final goal, has only arrived at the half way station: he knows that we have only reached the fourth step on the “Jacob’s ladder” of seven steps, that lead to perfection, and that it is almost as impossible for us to imagine what the ultimate attributes of man will be, as it is impossible for the acorn buried in the ground to foresee its future condition as an umbrageous oak into which it may develop. Modern science deals as yet only with the two lowest principles of man, while the remaining five higher principles are unknown to her. Modern science knows of only four states of matter, but the Adepts tell us of seven. The eyes of modern science can see only through a limited space in the world of phenomena, and her investigations end near the line where perception through the psychical senses ceases; but occult science steps from the realm of phenomena into that of noumena. She teaches that man is not the only intelligent being in the universe, that there are spaces within spaces, globes within globes, wheels within wheels, she shows that the number of things yet unknown to us is infinitely greater than the number of those we know, and reaches up in her researches to the supreme source of wisdom, the eternal and infinite origin of all, the existence of which physical science ignores, because she cannot see the utility or profit of enquiring into it.

          But the occultist not only believes in a Supreme Cause or “The Absolute,” but he knows its manifestations in all departments of nature. He says that nothing exists which is not God, and everything that exists is God, although we cannot see the essence of God, but only perceive it in its manifestations; for the things we perceive by our physical senses are not the things themselves, but only their attributes. The occultist therefore denies that matter in any shape can have any real existence, and says that the world of forms is only the unpermanent [impermanent] and ever changing result of cosmic ideation, or the symbols by which the divine ideas are represented to our mind. Ancient and modern philosophers have expressed that truth in different words, all agreeing that objects and ideas are ultimately identical, and it has been proclaimed ages ago by the Hindu sages, that nothing exists but Brahma, and that all things are the result, of the action of the Divine Mind, which evolves them out of itself, and forms them into shapes by the power of His own Will and according to certain and immutable laws called the laws of nature.

          If this is true, then the power of that Will is omnipotent, and whoever acts in harmony with it partakes of its powers, and the exercise of those powers depends on a knowledge of the laws of nature. But man himself as well as all nature is only the expression of a divine idea; his consciousness is the ultimate result of cosmic ideation, and MAN is therefore himself Divine. The knowledge of the universe and its laws depends on a perfect knowledge of man, not of man only in his present average condition, but of perfect man in his ultimate state. But no one can obtain perfect knowledge without experience, and to obtain experience of perfect man, he must become perfect himself. This state of perfection may not be obtained in one life on earth, but it is a state which in the course of evolution will be the normal condition of those that have come out victorious in the battle between spirit and matter.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. Forbidden Fruit. ^[9]

The Knowledge of Good and Evil.

And the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked:—Bible I Genesis iii. 7.

          The knowledge upon which the different religious systems of the world are based is undoubtedly fundamentally true; but our modern religious teachers have obtained that knowledge neither by induction nor by deduction, and what they know rests mainly upon information, tradition and hearsay, mixed up with a great deal of their own conceptions, which are frequently erroneous. Such information, being not connected with any personal experience, can give no real knowledge. Not only are the sources from which that information has been received in many cases unknown or obscure, but the original teachings, no matter how true they may have been, are generally misunderstood and misinterpreted by a succession of promulgators.

          This misunderstanding has been aided to a great extent by the allegorical and symbolical manner in which the original doctrines have been transmitted from one generation to another, so that in the course of time much of their true meaning was entirely lost and only the fables remained. Most of these fables seem to be purposely made absurd and unreasonable, so as to be protected against any acceptation in their literal sense; yet, nevertheless, the bigoted and ignorant frequently profess to believe them, and if literally believed in, without any explanation, they certainly form what has been properly called vicious literature. We copy the following from the American “Truthseeker”:

Vicious Literature.

There is a flood of humanity ever sweeping toward idiocy and insanity. Every day we read of the youth who has started westward after Indian scalps, and the man who has ended his life with the rope or dagger. Every paper that we pick up has in it an account of some insane wretch who has either murdered some of his family or committed suicide. Vicious literature is corrupting the human race. We are becoming mentally diseased by reading the fancies of others and believing them to be facts.

          The boy who reads the tales of the West until he thinks they are real, and is inspired to be a desperado, is unfortunate; but the one that reads and believes a more ancient novel, which relates incredible incidents of war and bloodshed, not only of this world, but of other worlds in other spheres, is surely in a more deplorable condition. His imagination is always picturing celestial cities with diamond-paved streets and gates of pearl, inhabited by fairies which are half human and half bird. And in his dreams the poor maniac holds converse with these beaked and feathered vagrants of the skies, which exist only in his own fancy.

          This novel, which gives accounts of battles between characters called angels, gods and devils, does more harm than all others together. It is taught to us from the cradle to the grave. No sooner has the child learned to talk than the parents begin teaching it to believe these fairy tales, and to ask favors of the boss fairy of god, and even to advise him how his affairs should be conducted.

          The hero of this novel was very fond of meat. He did not eat it as we do, but while his slaves roasted the carcasses of rams and bullocks, he reached his head out over the edge of a cloud and let his divine nostrils feast on the ascending fumes.

          Incredible as it may appear, the majority of people in so-called civilized countries believe this vile superstition to be actually true. And countries that are not called civilized believe traditions which are equally absurd. Vicious literature has its baneful influence on the whole world.

          But we are living in an age when after the night of superstition during the Middle Ages, reason has again resumed its sway. Free thought and free speech are less dangerous than formerly, and we therefore see men like Bradlaugh and Robert Ingersoll giving voice to the public sentiment, which begins to regard those fables as dangerous superstitions, and the Western world seems to start up as if awakening from a dream that was disturbed by a hideous nightmare, and to find out that it has beep led by the nose by the priests.

          But if all these theological fables are nothing else but stupid tales, at the absurdity of which a child would laugh, how could they dominate for so many centuries over the minds of the people? Is it not because great truths, not understood but intuitionally perceived, were hidden behind those masks, and would it not be better to understand and explain them, than in attempting to destroy superstition, to destroy with it the accumulated wisdom of the ages. True knowledge is not dangerous as it is necessarily connected with wisdom, but knowledge obtained by information or intellectual reasoning only, without higher impulses to govern the application of such knowledge is the forbidden fruit, which it is dangerous to possess. If we are permitted to speak in allegorical language, we may say, that God wrote the “Bible” and the Devil published it, that is to say, that while there is a great deal of truth in the ancient Kabala, out of which the main part of the Bible has been formed, its publication and consequent profanation and its misinterpretation has led to great destruction of life and has for centuries been a curse to humanity.

          Like the Kabala, other ancient religious works have been framed in a more or less symbolical language, to hide their true meaning from the eyes of the profane. Nearly all of them represent in some form or other the transition of Man from a state of original purity to a condition of degradation and his subsequent rise and salvation.

          The Kabala represents this history of the “fall” under the allegory of original man and woman in paradise,—meaning a state of purity,—eating a fruit from a forbidden tree,—representing knowledge,— having been instigated to do so by the devil—symbolising unholy desire, This story, if taken in its literal sense, is extremely absurd, but if we examine its hidden meaning, we shall find that it covers a great occult truth.

          Many of the occult symbols are liable to be interpreted in a twofold manner. One interpretation, in a wider sense, which refers to collective man, and another lying individually nearer and representing the possible experience of the individual. In its wider sense the fall of man represents the descent of spirit into matter, man’s evolution, and his becoming in the course of the same provided with clothes of skin,—that means a physical body, to protect him against the injurious influences of his surroundings.

          In a more restricted sense the fable refers to each individual man and to the dangers which he incurs by developing intellectuality at the expense of spirituality, and thereby obtaining knowledge without sufficient wisdom for its application, to prevent any misuse. A high degree of intellectual development is not necessarily accompanied by a corresponding morality, and without the latter that knowledge which gives power may and would be a still greater curse than superstition and ignorance. To what depths of moral degradation intellectuality without spirituality may lead, we see at the present time vividly illustrated in the unnecessary and brutal cruelty with which vivisections are conducted, and in most cases simply for the gratification of idle curiosity. To prove this, we have only space to insert the following few lines from an extract of testimony taken before a Royal Commission to investigate the practice of vivisection, which testimony only throws a faint light upon what is practised in thousands of places in the West.

2. Testimony of David Perrier, M, D. (vivisector), Professor of King’s College, before Life Royal Commission:

          “Question: What is your practice as to anæsthetics? Answer: Except for teaching purposes, or convenience, I never give them.

          “Q. Do you mean to say that you have no regard at all for the sufferings of animals? A. No regard at all! I think that a man who performs an experiment has no time for thinking what the animal will feel and suffer.

          “Q. Do you believe it the general practice on the continent to disregard altogether the feelings of animals? A. I do.

          “Q. Do you believe that the feeling is different in England? A. I do not think it is; not among physiologists.”

1. 1. 4. The Medical Times and Gazette flippantly mentions an experiment on a living dog, which consisted in forcing half a pint of boiling water into the stomach, “in order to show that the animal tissue could be disorganized; and that the animal, after giving evidence of great suffering, vomited blood and died!”
      5. Mr. Jesse B. Mills testified before the Royal Commission as follows:

          “I am a veterinary surgeon in the Royal Artillery at Woolwich,

          “Question: You went through college at Edinburgh?

          Answer. I did.

          “Q. Were experiments made there on the occasion to which you refer, to discover any new facts? A. No; simply to demonstrate things that were perfectly well known to every student almost; and to gratify idle curiosity.”

          But such cruelty is not exhibited towards animals only; We see whole generations of men poisoned by the inoculation of filth, partly from a motive of greed, partly to uphold a mistaken scientific theory. The recent improvements of fire arms may have helped modern civilisation to spread, but they have not increased spirituality, and the humanitarian spirit exhibited during modern wars, represented in the person of Florence Nightingale, is not due to the ingenuity of intellect alone. The invention of the fulminates of mercury, of gunpowder and nitroglycerine has caused much suffering to a large part of humanity. Not that the substances applied or the forces which are liberated are intrinsically evil, but their misunderstanding or misapplication leads to evil results. If all men were intelligent enough to understand the laws which govern them, and wise enough to employ them for good purposes only, no evil results would follow.

          If we proceed a step further and imagine intellectual but wicked and selfish people possessed not only of the power to employ explosives, poisonous drugs and medicines to injure others, but able to send their own invisible poisonous influences to a distance, to leave at will the prison-house of the physical body and go out in their astral forms to kill or injure others, the most disastrous results would follow. Such forbidden knowledge has been and is sometimes possessed by people with criminal tendencies, a fact which is universally known in the East, and upon the possibility and actuality of such knowledge the witch persecutions of the Middle Ages were based. That such witch trials were not always based upon hallucination and idle tales has been demonstrated on many occasions,^[10] and we are personally acquainted with a woman, who can throw a dog into convulsions, kill a small bird, and make a man sick by the simple effort of her will.

          But not only to others, but also to the possessor of forbidden knowledge, may the result of such knowledge be detrimental. The first use that the average man would make of such knowledge, would be to produce “wonders,” which would not only unsettle the reason of others but also his own. Even the modern discoveries in science have sometimes had such effects. And here we may add that if the Adopts in spite of the general clamour for the exhibition of occult phenomena do not produce them for the purpose of gratifying curiosity or to convince sceptics, the above may give a clue to the explanation. It has often been complained of, that those phenomena are often produced under circumstances which leave open the question of fraud, and it is this possibility of fraud, which may sometimes protect the investigator from lunacy.

          Let us see what Baron Dupotet says in regard to the forbidden fruit:

“What is this tree of knowledge and this forbidden fruit? Is it perhaps that mysterious force, which is the object of our study? If we examine the sacred books, ww find that they contain the knowledge of good and of evil. Man himself as well as his posterity is punished for overstepping certain limits, beyond which he is allured by a pernicious light. There is a great mystery. Man wants to obtain knowledge, which renders him equal to God.”

          We have seen that man is continually surrounded by unseen influences and that the astral plane is swarming with entities and forces, which are acting upon him for good or for evil, according to his good or evil inclinations, dispositions and attractions. At the present state of evolution man has a reason to guide him and a physical body, which is admirably adapted to modify the influences from the astral plane and to shelter him against the “monsters of the deep.”

          Man’s physical body is composed of elements similar to those of his material surroundings, and his astral form corresponds to, and attracts the principles of, the astral plane. If the physical body is in good health, it acts as an armour, and moreover man has the power by a judicious exercise of his will to make himself positive, or in other words to so concentrate the odic aura by which he is surrounded, as to render his armour impenetrable; but if by bad health, by a careless expenditure of vitality, or by the practice of mediumship, he renders himself negative, or, in other words, if he disperses through space the odic emanations belonging to his sphere, his physical armour will become weakened and unable to protect him; he becomes the helpless victim of elementaries and elemental forces, his mental faculties will lose their balance and sooner or later he will, like the symbolical Adam and Eve, know that he is naked and exposed to influences which he cannot repel, an idiot or a criminal, on his way to the lunatic asylum or to suicide. The former has been the deplorable fate of the celebrated medium Chs. Forster and the latter the end of P. B. Randolph, and many others have followed or preceded in their path. Such is the result for which those ignorantly crave, who wish to obtain knowledge without morality, intellectual acquisitions without spirituality, and who carelessly meddle with forces which they do not understand. To supply the ignorant or weak with powers of destruction would be like providing children with gunpowder and matches for play, and those who enter the temple of knowledge without due preparation pay dearly for their temerity. Our modern science is at present stretching out her hand for the forbidden fruit, and its attainment without the necessary sanction will bring on the destruction of our race.

          The above considerations bring us back again to our starting point, where we said that intellectual development and spiritual enlightenment must go hand in hand, that abnormal growth in one direction is prejudicial to real progress. The development of the true Adept means therefore the development of all that is true and good in man by study and high aspiration, and the whole of the “practical instructions” necessary to know may be condensed into the few words spoken to the writer of this at the beginning of his career as a student of occult science by a high Adept, saying: “Live up to your highest ideal of true manhood.”

          There are two gigantic powers of the mind, the Will and the Imagination. In the brute creation and in those nearest, approaching to it, Imagination governs the Will. In the higher developed classes Will controls the Imagination. The ability to apply Will and Imagination so as to produce useful and harmonious results is called Wisdom, but wisdom cannot be imparted by words, it must be acquired by experience, and frequently the acquisition of such experience involves a large amount of personal suffering, which amount may be reduced by receiving and following out proper instructions.

          Man is a product of circumstances. His Will cannot be said to be free as long as it is ruled by the imagination and the state of his imagination depends on his inclination and knowledge. Man can therefore not be considered a fully responsible being as long as his knowledge is deficient, this responsibility grows with his knowledge. When in the coarse of evolution his knowledge shall become more extended, he will then be better able to choose between good and evil, and if at the same time his imagination is pure, then will he become truly powerful and the “forbidden fruit” will become a divine gift. Man will then no longer need a physical body to protect him because he will protect himself by his power. The Devil in the form of a serpent, symbolising the Astral light with its inhabitants, (the region of desire) will have its head crushed by the heel of the woman, allegorizing Divine Wisdom (the female principle, the spiritual soul), death will be conquered, good-will shall prevail throughout our planetary chain leading to a period of rest, in Nirvana, after which “the morning stars will again sing together for joy,” to welcome anew day of creation.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism VI.

Imagination. ^[11]

“ The universe is a product of divine thought.”

          The first power that meets us at the threshold of practical occultism is the power of imagination. Man is conscious of having ideas and of being able to put his ideas into form. He possesses an interior world of his own, where those ideas exist. He is the sole autocrat in that world of mind, the master of its creations and lord over all it contains. He governs there by the supreme power of his will, and if ideas intrude, which have no legitimate existence, it is in his power either to annihilate them or suffer them to grow. It is a world like the outer world, sometimes dark, sometimes illuminated; its space and the things which it contains, are as real to its inhabitants, as our physical world is real and objective to our senses; its space is either narrow or expanded, limited in some and without limits in others; it has its beautiful sceneries and dismal localities, its sunshine and storms and lightnings, its forms of beauty and horrible shapes.

          It is the privilege of intellectual man to retire to that world whenever he chooses. Physical enemies do not persecute him there, bodily pain cannot enter and the vexations of material life must remain behind, but ignorance and superstition will go with him.

          The boor when he closes his eyes and shuts his ears can hardly be said to have any human existence. There is nothing in his interior world to attract his attention; but the poet or artist, when his individuality retires into the interior chamber of his mind, finds it filled with visions of beauty; and, wrapt in their admiration or listening to its melodious harmonies, he forgets the existence of the objective world; while the true Adept, who consciously evolves those images under the guidance of his educated Will, not only creates for himself at any time the surroundings he chooses, but also makes them by the same power visible to others.

          Imagination forms the basis of all magical operations, and art and magic are closely related. Both give objective shape to the products of the imagination, and only the manner in which this is effected differs. The sculptor shapes the picture of a beautiful form in his mind and mentally projects it into the marble. He then employs mechanical force to free that form from all irregularities, and the result may be a Venus or an Apollo. The painter covers the canvass with the creations of his imagination and makes them visible by the application of paint. The magician forms an image in his mind and projects it directly upon the minds of others, or he may project it into space, and by the attractive power of his Will clothe it with matter and render it visible and tangible.

          This power of the Adept to project images is neither so incredible nor so difficult to explain as is commonly believed, and the phenomena of mind-reading, transmission of thought and sometimes clairvoyance are based upon it. If we fully realise the fact that the seat of high intellection is an universal principle, or, to state it more correctly, a function of the Omnipresent Spirit, there will be no difficulty to conceive how the vibrations created by that centre of forces, called the brain, can be transferred and brought to a focus in any other part of that principle by the Will. Images thus projected by the mind upon another person can be brought to his consciousness either in the waking or sleeping condition, but a power to transmit also presupposes the power to receive, and the images projected must not only be of sufficient strength to impress themselves upon the mind of the receiver, but the latter must also be in possession of a sufficiently sensitive organisation and in a receptive state to perceive those images. No sound affects the deaf and no images can be impressed upon the brain of a corpse.

          Various means have been adapted to produce an abnormal receptivity for such purposes. They are all calculated to lessen or suspend the uproar of vital forces going on in the physical system by lessening its vitality, and all such practices are injurious in proportion as they are efficacious. The only safe and sure way to accomplish the object in view, is to preserve always and under all circumstances a serene tranquillity of the mind.

          The surface of a lake whose water is in motion reflects only distorted reproductions of the images projected upon it, and if in our interior world the elements are in uproar and confusion, if it is clouded by prejudices, darkened by ignorance, hallucinated by desire or disturbed by passion, the true images of things seen will be equally distorted. The state of our imagination is a great factor in our observation and appreciation of things, and an object or an idea may be agreeable or disagreeable according to our inclinations and understanding. The savage may see in the sculptured Venus only a curious piece of rock, and the beautiful painting is to him only a piece of canvass daubed over with colors. To the poet the forest swarms with fairies and the projecting rocks or wandering clouds take weird and curious forms, while the coward sees an enemy or a ghost lurking in every corner. The greedy miser on looking at the beauties of nature only thinks of the money value they represent, but true art finds beauty everywhere, and to him whose mind is poetic, every symbol in nature becomes a poem and suggests to him new ideas.

          The images formed in the mind either by the will or by impressions received, may act powerfully upon the physical body of the person. They change or distort the features either temporarily, or if continued or often repeated, permanently. They may render the hair white in a single hour, mark, kill or break the bones of the unborn child and make injuries received by one person visible upon the body of another. They may cause or cure diseases, induce hallucinations and visions and produce “stigmata.” Imagination performs its miracles either consciously or unconsciously in all departments of nature. Frequently we see instances of “protective coloring,” which means a close resemblance between the color of an animal and that of the locality in which the animal lives, and the cause of this is the powerful effect of surrounding colors on the imagination of animals when breeding. By altering the surroundings of animals at such times, their color can be changed at will. The tiger’s stripes are said to correspond with the long jungle grass, and the leopard’s spots resemble the speckled light falling through the leaves.^[12] The forces of nature—influenced by the imagination of man—act on the astral plane and create tendencies and shapes, which in the course of progress find expression through material forms. In this way the vices of man give rise—as has often been pointed out by occult writers—to the evolution and reproduction of monsters, noxious plants and poisonous reptiles, and as man’s imagination will become purified, so will the last remnants of disgusting animal forms disappear, and the earth become more beautiful and refined. The refined and more cultured ideation of the Universal Mind causes each planet at each new “day of creation” to evolve higher forms than it possessed on the previous “evening,” when the life-wave in its cyclic round” passed on to the next planet to fulfil its destiny there; and if after untold ages the impulse given “at the beginning” has again passed through its seven rounds and the great “year of creation” is ended, when our whole solar system has passed through its slumber and Brahm reawakening again begins to evolve forms, his more exalted and perfected imagination will make the new world still more exalted and perfect.

          In our normal condition our will can guide our imagination, in abnormal conditions the will of another may take its place. A person who dreams does not control the actions which he performs in his dream, although he may dream that he is exercising his will. The things seen in his dream are to him realities and he does not doubt their substantiality, while external physical objects have no existence for him, and not even the possibility of their existence comes to his consciousness. He may see before him a ditch and dream that he wills to jump over it, while in fact he does not exert his will, but only follows the impulses created during his waking condition. A person in a “trance” may be so much under the influence of a “magnetiser,” as to have no active will of his own and be only led by the imagination of the operator. The avenues of his external senses are closed and he lives entirely in the region of ideas, in which material objects can find no place and into which such objects could by no means be introduced. Still, what he sees is real to him and if the operator creates a precipice in his imagination, perhaps represented by a chalk mark on the floor, the “subject” will on approaching it experience and exhibit the same terror as lie would in his normal state, if aa abyss were yawning under his feet, and if the operator should have the cruelty to make the entranced jump into that precipice, the most serious consequences might follow. A glass of water transformed into imaginary wine by the will of a “mesmeriser,” may make the subject intoxicated, while it would not necessarily have such an effect on persons in the normal state, and if that water has been transformed into imaginary poison, it may injure or kill the sensitive. A powerful “mesmeriser” can form either a beautiful or horrible picture in his mind, and by transferring it by his will upon the mental sphere of a sensitive even in his normal condition, cause him either pleasure or suffering, and the qualities of the products of the imagination, either unconsciously or consciously evolved, attract us to certain persons or repel us from others and create sympathies and antipathies in the human and animal kingdoms.

          The creations of the imaginations as well as their material symbols on the physical plane are more or less lasting according to certain conditions. High and spiritual ideas make a more lasting impression than those on a lower plane, and it is well known that after leaving a place where we have resided, we, generally speaking, remember without effort only pleasurable events, while disagreeable ones are forgotten, unless they have made a very strong impression upon the mind. A cause which produces a sudden terror or acts otherwise strongly on the imagination produces a lasting impression not only through life, but beyond it. An idea which has been ingrafted into the mind by education or study is difficult to uproot or to destroy. A person who during his life has strongly believed in the existence of eternal damnation and hell-fire, may on his entrance into the subjective state after death, suddenly behold all the terrors of hell, which his imagination during life has conjured up. There has been no “premature” burial, the physical body was actually dead; but the terrified soul again rushes back into the deserted body and clings to it in despair, seeking protection, and finds itself alive in the grave, where it may pass a second time through more terrible pangs of death, or by sending out its astral form in search of sustenance from the living, become a vampire and prolong for a while a horrible existence. Such misfortunes in Christian countries are exceedingly numerous, and the best remedy for it is a rational education or the cremation of the body soon after death.

          On the other hand the convicted murderer, who before stepping on the gallows has been fully “prepared” by the clergy and been assured of his “salvation who has been cheated into a false belief that his sins are forgiven, and who firmly expects to jump from the place of execution into the arms of the angels, may on his entrance to the subjective state really see the creations of his imagination before him and thereby be saved from becoming a vampire; but whether the clergy by saving him from such suffering confer any real benefit upon him, or rather retard his progress by impeding and postponing the action of his Karma, is a subject which we will not examine at present.

          What has been said previously in regard to the development of the will, is also applicable to the development of the imagination, because imagination is strengthened and cultured by the will.

          When the will is held in suspense, the imagination is rendered passive, that is the mind takes in the reflects of pictures stored up in the astral light, without choice or discrimination. Fortune-tellers and sooth-sayers therefore employ various things, such as crystals, cards, coffee-grounds, water, etc., to fix their attention, and thereby keep the will from guiding the imagination, thereby producing a waking dream.

          Life has been called a dream, and it only differs from other dreams, that during our occupancy of the physical body we can make use of our will to guide and control our thoughts and actions, while in the subjective condition during sleep and after death that guidance is wanting. It is therefore of the utmost importance, that we should control our will by the higher impulses of the moral law and at all times cultivate a pure and exalted imagination.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism VII.

Intuition. Faith and Discrimination[1′]

“Without Faith there is no excellence in this world.”— SIR BULWER LYTTON.

Every human being, has the germ of certain occult powers in himself. In the majority of mankind they are latent and undeveloped. To develop them and bring them into activity man has to pass successively through three stages: Study, Understanding and Work, or as Eliphas Levi has it: Theory, Realisation and Adaptation. Study may lead to comprehension and understanding; if it does not, it will have not the desired result and true realisation will be impossible. Knowledge without work adapted to the object in view will be a dead letter; but work, guided by knowledge and strengthened by frequent Experience and Practice, develops will and establishes permanent Power.

          The greatest enemies of Power are Doubt and Fear; its great assistant is Faith. Our daily occupations, such as walking and moving our limbs, are only successfully performed, because we have full and unwavering faith in our ability to perform them. There are occasionally cases met with, in which the Will is paralysed through doubt, and the patient is unable to walk, simply because he has not sufficient confidence in his power to do so, while, on the other hand, an indomitable will, strengthened by full faith in success, will accomplish marvellous deeds. The orator or the physician, who has no confidence in his own ability, will make many blunders, and if his clients or patients share his doubts, his usefulness will be seriously impaired, where even the ignorant fanatic or quack may succeed, because his faith communicates itself to the others and the conditions become more favourable to success.

          Faith, therefore, even without perfect knowledge, may be more useful than knowledge without faith and consequently without action. Strong faith, even if resting upon an erroneous conception, may act powerfully in producing results. The “spiritual medium,” who is fully convinced that his “spirits” can produce manifestations, does not doubt their ability to do so “if conditions are good” and the “spirits” are willing; but if he attempts to produce these manifestations through his own willpower, the efficacy of which he doubts, he will generally fail unless he has recourse to fraud. The only true efficacy of prayer and ceremonies consists in the establishment or strengthening of faith. Faith produces an exalted state of the imagination which banishes pain, cures disease, leads to heroism, and transforms hell into heaven.

          Sir Bulwer Lytton says: “The victims of the ghostly ones are those that would aspire and can only fear.” Fear and Doubt are the hell-born daughters of Ignorance that drag man down to perdition, while Faith is the white-robed angel that lends him her wings and endows him with power. “Samsayatma Vinasyati”2 (The Doubter perishes) said Krishna to Arjuna, his favourite disciple. There are two other enemies of success; their names are Forgetfulness and Neglect. The soul, that not fully realises the object it desires to accomplish, will often grow weary unless rendered strong by a continuous effort. Faith like Will and Imagination needs constant practice. The more an idea is cultivated, the more will it be realised, and to assist in its cultivation and realisation is the object of the various signs, symbols and words that are used in religious ceremonies and other performances of Magic.

          A sign like a letter or a word is useless, unless it conveys a meaning and unless that meaning is realised by him who uses the sign. The more the difficulty encountered in comprehending the meaning of the symbols and allegories, letters and signs, and the more the study required to understand them correctly, the more will the efforts used for that purpose strengthen the will and assist to realise the idea. The poetry of Shakespeare or Schiller, the eloquence of Demosthenes or the logic of Plato will have no effect on him who listens to them without understanding their language, and the most potent magical signs are useless drawings to him who cannot realise what they mean; while to him who is versed in occult science, a simple geometrical figure, even a line or a point, conveys a vast meaning.

          Let us for instance examine the Pentagramm or the five-pointed star. Superstitious and credulous people believed once that at the sight of this sign wicked demons would fly away in terror, that it would protect houses against the sorcerer and the witch. The sign is found almost everywhere, on dry goods boxes as trademarks, on whiskey shops and houses of vice as ornaments, and the State of Texas has adopted it for its seal. Ununderstood it is nothing but an ordinary geometrical figure, and still through its use—if used with wisdom—man becomes a god.

          It represents (amongst other things) the Microcosmos of Man and his power over the forces of Nature. The four lower triangles represent the four elementary forces of Nature with their correlations and interrelations, the dangers which threaten him from the physical and astral planes, and the temptations to which he is exposed through the senses. But all these triangles are interrelated with the triangle at the top, the seat of Wisdom and Intelligence, upon which they all act and which acts upon them all and can govern them by its will, by the right use of that sign, that is, by governing the lower instincts through wisdom, man gains mastery over the forces of nature. We must take care, that the figure is well drawn and leaves no open place; that means we must constantly have all our passions under control, because if one single pet-desire is permitted to enter the temple unguided, the harmony of the whole will be disturbed, but by drawing up all the elements of the lower triangles into the higher ones, and making them subservient to it, equilibrium will be established, power and immortality will be the result. The circle of triangles will then form into a square, the symbol of perfection, and man’s destiny will be fulfilled.

          To him who has knowledge, a single sign may express more than can be expressed in imperfect language. To the “Christian” the sign of the Cross represents an instrument of torture and death, to the Occultist it represents the two dominant energies of Nature, Attraction and Repulsion, Matter and Spirit, the male and the female principles; and the point of intersection of the two lines, the Centre of Wisdom, the Rose of the Cross, the Central Sun of the Universe.

          He who has that sign, that means he who has wisdom [the central point] and knows how to guide the opposing forces of nature, will be victorious. In Hoc Signo Vinces,3 does not moan that in order to be successful in life we must hang on our clothes the sign of a cross, but that we must understand the meaning of the sign, and know how to employ it.

          One of the most important signs, whose realisation gives power, is that of the double interlaced triangle, surrounded by a snake who bites his tail.

          He who has thoroughly comprehended that sign knows the laws of evolution and involution; the laws of the descent of spirit into matter and the reascension of matter to spirit. He knows the never-ending cycles of eternity with its days and its nights. Six points are seen in the star, but the seventh in the centre cannot be seen. From this invisible centre, the great spiritual sun radiates its forces, forming a circle whose periphery is without limits und beyond comprehension, evolving systems of worlds and reabsorbing them into its bosom.

          A sign represents an idea, and helps us to realise that idea; but no sign can be efficacious, unless it is properly applied. An old proverb says: “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” An intention is useless as long as it is not put into action. To will effectively is to act. Active will, guided by wisdom, is represented in cabalistic language as the Word. “In the beginning was the word,” means that Wisdom manifesting itself through Power came into Activity and called the universe into existence. A word or a language is an expression of thought, and to be perfect it must give perfect expression to the thought it is intended to express. In our present state of civilisation words are used for the purpose of concealing our thoughts, or to convey a false impression, and as the words are false, so are the acts which follow; words without wisdom and acts without justice. To give perfect expression to an idea is Magic; to act upon the imagination so as to create a false impression, is witchcraft, deception and lie, provided it is done for the purpose of gaining personal advantages through deception4 Such witchcraft is practised every day and in almost every station of life, from the orator in the pulpit who wheedles his audience into a belief that he possesses the keys of heaven and hell, down to the merchant, who cheats with his goods. Such practices are publicly denounced and silently followed, and as the intellectual development of the race advances and its morality lags behind, these practices will be followed by others, that will finally end in Black Magic and bring destruction upon the nation.5 Such has been the fate of former civilisations, and we can trace the action of that law at the present day.

          As the power of good increases, so increases the power of evil, for neither good nor evil have any absolute existence by themselves. They are only relative terms and either exists only in relation to the other. It is therefore often extremely difficult to distinguish good from evil, and the first power which it is necessary for the student of occultism to acquire, is the power of proper Discrimination. If the primitive equilibrium had never been disturbed, there would be no life, if the poles of the magnet neutralise each other, there is no magnetism; if love and hate are equal, indifference is the result.

          In the planes of relativity excess in any direction is bad; in the absolute there can be no excess, because it is infinite in itself. There can be no excess in absolute Justice, Wisdom or Truth, but on the lower planes all things must be weighed in the scales by the power of discrimination.

          If we are able to discriminate properly and to appreciate everything according to its true value, we are then in possession of true occult power. If we wish to produce a mechanical or chemical effect, we must know how to discriminate between the forces of Nature. If you wish to control a man, you must study him and identify yourself with his feelings and yet remain mentally and spiritually above him. If you want to control a spirit, you must enter into the sphere of his prevailing thought, then rise morally above him, and you will attract him and drag him wherever you like.

          Only an intelligent and well balanced mind can discriminate properly and be able to distinguish between the real and its ever-changing forms, and only such a mind is fit to dive into the hidden mysteries of Nature and Mind, to have his inner sight opened, and greater powers conferred upon him by the process of Initiation. He who has reached that stage need not search for an Adept to instruct him; the Adept will be attracted to him, and become his instructor, in the same manner as a man may be attracted by the beauty of an animal or of a flower.

          He, who ascends to the top of a high mountain, need not inquire for somebody to bring him pure air. Pure air surrounds him there on all sides. The realm of wisdom is not limited by space, and he whose mind is receptive will not suffer from want of divine influx, to feed his inspiration. Inspiration presupposes Aspiration and the best way to aspire is to act.

          The power to discriminate properly, or, in other words, to perceive the truth clearly and without doubt, is called Intuition. It is the highest degree of Intellection and is the result of practice and growth either in a previous birth or in the present existence. It is itself the highest Reason, and can therefore not be opposed to the results at which we arrive by reasoning, provided we reason on the highest plane of unselfish thought. On the lower planes our personal interests may clash with the dictates of our intuition, and by a continued disregard for the voice of Intuition and Conscience the perception of the spirit becomes clouded and the higher Intuitions are lost.

          The school in which the occultist graduates has many classes, each class representing a life. The days of vacation may arrive before the lesson is learned, and what has been learned may be forgotten during the time of vacation; but still the impression remains and a thing once learned is easily learned again. This accounts for the different talents with which men are endowed, and for their propensities for good or for evil. No effort is lost, every cause creates a corresponding effect, no favors are granted, no vicarious atonement takes place. Blind and deaf is the law of justice, dealing out to every one according to his merits or demerits; but he who has no selfish desire for reward and no cowardly fear of punishment, but who dares to act rightly because he cannot act wrong, identifies himself with the law and in the equilibrium of the law will he find his Power.

Notes:

1 Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. VII.—Intuition. Faith and Discrimination. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 6, no. 2 (November 1884), 36-38. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

2 {R.H.—Bhagavad Gītā, Book IV, verse 40: saṃśayātmā vinaśyati}

3 {In this sign you will conquer—R.H.}

4 A Parliamentary decree was passed and registered under King Louis XV: “Whoever by means of red or white paint, perfumes, essences, artificial teeth, false hair, cotton wool, iron corsets, hoops, shoes with high heels, or false hips, shall seek to entice into the bonds of marriage any male subject of his Majesty, shall be prosecuted for witchcraft and declared incapable of matrimony.”

5 It may be said that under the above definition all sleight of hand performers might be considered wizards. This is, however, not the case; for although such performances deceive the senses and are produced for the purpose of gain, still they take place with the consent of the audience, who know that they are to be deceived, and the essential element of fraud is wanting. If the audience at public seances insults the “mediums,” it is because they believe themselves victims of fraud. Sleight of hand performers are not usually subject to such attacks.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism VII. [VIII.]

The Real and the Unreal.^[13]

The Real, and the Unreal.

“Allah! Bi—’ mi—’ blah!”

“There is no god but God.”—Koran.

Everywhere in the broad expanse of the universe we see an almost infinite variety of forms, belonging to different kingdoms and exhibiting a variety of appearances. Hie substance of which those forms are composed may—for aught we know—essentially consist of the same material, as the basis of their constitution, although its qualities, such as density, weight, chemical action, etc., may differ. We do not see the substance itself, we only distinguish the forms by the peculiarities of their attributes which come to the cognizance of our senses and by which we distinguish one form from another, and for purposes of distinction and reference- give it a name. If we, for instance, look at a tree, we have no scientific proof that the thing we see is a tree, and if we had never seen a tree before, we would not know what it is; but having seen similar things before, which were called trees, our intuition tells us that what we see before us must be a tree and can be nothing else. Whatever may find expression in one form or another is called a thing, and a thing may change its form and yet the substance remain the same. Water may be frozen into solid ice or be transformed by heat into vapour, its substance assumes different attributes, but remains essentially the same, even after it has ceased to be visible to the human eye. Its attributes may disappear and it may still exist as an idea. A material thing is only the symbol or representation of an idea, we may give it a name, but the thing itself remains forever hidden behind the veil. We may by a well-known experiment arrange conditions so as to make a thing perceptible alternately by one sense or another without changing its form, but that which constitutes the thing itself cannot be perceived nor imagined. If we could separate a simple substance from its attributes and endow it with others at will, then one body could be transformed into another as for instance base metals be transformed into gold.

To illustrate, let us look at a stick. It is made out of wood, but that is not essential, because wood is not stick, it might be made out of something else and still be a stick. We do not perceive the stick itself, we only see its attributes, its extension and color and density, we feel its weight and we hear it sound if we strike it. Each of these attributes or all of them may be changed and yet it may remain a stick for all that; because that, which constitutes it a stick, is an idea. Let us burn up the stick, and its substance and form will have changed. As a stick it exists no more in the physical plane, but the idea of a stick is not lost, the stick still exists as an idea, although it has as such no definite form. Let us now endow that formless idea with new attributes and clothe the new-born idea with matter, and we will have transformed our ideal stick into anything we choose to make. To do this on the physical plane requires the power of an Adept. But on the intellectual plane it is different. We daily transform our desires, our aspirations and tastes by the omnipotent power of will, and thereby make of man—even on the physical plane—a different being.

Nobody ever saw a real man; we only perceive the qualities which he possesses. Man cannot see himself, he speaks of his body, his soul and his spirit, it is the combination of the three which constitutes what we consider a Man, it is this which gives him his character; the real ego, the embodiment of the Absolute is a formless idea for which we have no conception. As a formless idea and yet an individual unit he enters the world of matter, evolutes a new personality, obtains new experience and knowledge, passes through the pleasures and vicissitudes of life, and through the valley of death he enters again that realm where in the course of ages his form will cease to exist, and when his hour strikes his essence reappears upon the scene. His form and personality change, his real ego remains the same and yet not the same, because during life it acquires new attributes and changes its characteristics.

What can this real ego be, which is said to be the only reality, unless it is The Absolute itself, obtaining relative consciousness by coming into contact with matter? Is any man certain of his own existence? All the proof we have of it is in our consciousness, in the feeling of a realisation of an existence. But one moment of consciousness differs from that of another moment according to the change which takes place in the conditions which hourly surround us and according to the impressions which we receive. We are craving for change; to remain always the same would be torture. If it were possible that two or more persons were born and educated under exactly the same conditions, receiving at all times identical impressions, they would have all the same thoughts, the same feelings, their consciousness would be the same and they would collectively form only one person.

Under whatever form life may exist, its existence is only relative. Good and evil are relative terms, because what may be good for one may be bad for another. The word existence itself is a relative term, because it implies a state opposed to non-existence. Truth is a relative term, because what may be true in one sense may be false in another. To distinguish between the true and the false our senses cannot be trusted. We see the sun rise in the East, see him travel along the sky during the day and disappear again in the West; but every child nowadays knows that this apparent movement is only an illusion, caused by the turning of the earth. At night we see the “fixed” stars above our head, they look insignificant, compared with the wide expanse of the earth and ocean, and yet we know that they are blazing suns, in comparison with which our mother Earth is only a speck of dust. Nothing seems to be more quiet and tranquil than the solid ground under our feet, and yet the earth, whereon we live, whirls with tremendous velocity through space; the mountains seem to be everlasting, but continents sink beneath the waters of the ocean and rise again over its surface. Tides seem to rise and sink, but the discovery seems to be near, that it is the harmonious heavings of the bosom of our mother Earth, which produces the illusion. A stream of light seems to flow from the sun to our planet, and yet between the sun and the earth’s surface is darkness, because no meteoric dust is there to cause reflection; while again we are surrounded by an ocean of light of a higher order, which appears to us darkness, because the nerves of our bodies are not yet sufficiently developed to react under the influence of the Astral-light.

The image reflected in the mirror seems a reality to the unreasoning mind, the voice of the echo may be mistaken for the voice of a man; the elemental forces of nature may be loaded unconsciously with the products of our own thoughts and we may listen to their echo as being the voices of spirits of the departed; we may dream while awake.

If we turn from the world of forms to the idea of relative space and time, we perceive the same difficulty in acknowledging their reality. We find that their qualities change according to our standard of measurement, and according to our mode of perception. To an animalcule in a drop of water that drop may appear as an ocean, and to an insect living on a leaf that leaf may constitute a world. If during our sleep the whole visible world would shrink to the size of a walnut or be expanded to a thousandfold its present dimensions, on waking we would perceive no change, provided that change would have affected everything, including ourselves, in proportion. A child has no conception of space and tries to grasp the moon with its hands, and a person, who has been born blind and is afterwards made to see, cannot judge distances correctly. Our thoughts know of no intervening space when they travel from one part of the globe to another in an almost imperceptible moment of time. Our conceptions of space are based upon experience and memory, acquired in our present condition. If we were moving among entirely different conditions, our experience and consequently our conceptions would be entirely different. Professor Zöllner called the physical plane three-dimensional space; the mental plane would represent the fourth dimension, spiritual aspirations the fifth and still higher, until we arrive at a plane where relative space ceases to be, but where principles are nevertheless material in a metaphysical sense of the term.

As our conception of space is only relative, so is our conception of time. It is not time itself but its measure of which we are conscious, and time is nothing unless in connection with our association of ideas. The human mind can only receive a small number of impressions per second; if we would only receive one impression per hour, our life would seem exceedingly short, and if we were able to receive for instance each single undulation of a yellow ray of light, whose vibrations number 509 billions per second, a single day in our life would appear to us an eternity. To a prisoner in a dungeon who has no occupation, time may seem extremely long, while for him, who is actively engaged, it passes quick. During sleep we have no conception of time; but a sleepless night passed in suffering seems very long. During a few seconds of time we may dream to pass through experiences which would require a number of years in the regular course of events, while in the unconscious state time does not exist for us. A man, while speaking, received a sudden injury on the brain by a weight that fell on his head. The accident interrupted the sentence he was uttering and made him unconscious. Weeks afterwards; when in consequence of a surgical operation he recovered his consciousness, he continued the sentence where it was interrupted. A spiritual entity in Devachan or Swarga receives no impressions, and has no conception of time while it revels in the products of its own imagination, which are to the dreamer not less real than our day-dreams to us, and the impression collected by his senses during life unrol [unroll] themselves so to say, creating new suggestions and new combinations and varieties until the force is exhausted. Persons fully in the subjective state receive no impression from the objective world. If they are only partially in that state, for instance during an uneasy slumber, the sensations carried to the half conscious brain produce caricatures and distortion of ideas, and in the same manner we may, while we are half awake, behold caricatures from the spiritual world.

Everything is either a reality or a delusion according to the stand-point from which we look at it. The words real and unreal are only relative terms, and what may seem to be real in one state of existence, appears unreal in another. That which we realise is real. If my imagination is powerful enough to make me firmly believe in the presence of an angel, then that angel will be there for all my practical purposes, no matter how unreal it may be to another. If your imagination is strong enough to create for you a paradise in a wilderness, then that paradise will have for you an objective existence. A lunatic, imagining himself to be a king, may be not less happy than a genuine king and besides have less trouble than he would have if he were a genuine king, and he who is afraid of the devil is really haunted by him. There is however an immense difference between the morbid fancies of a lunatic and the enduring products of the creative power of the imagination of an artist or a magician. In the case of the lunatic the imagination is merely passive, he mistakes the meaning of the symbols by which he is surrounded for want of power of discrimination, his senses betray him and his judgment is insufficient to make him see the imposture; but the man of genius exercises an active creative power, he selects what he wants and his imagination calls it into existence which is to him real. Looked at in this light, the creations of an active imagination are surely more real than the delusive impressions which we receive from external objects through the senses, and no man can be said to be perfectly sane as long as he looks upon the delusions of the senses as absolute realities.

Matter and form, space and time, such as we know them, are only existing relatively to our mental perception. Form in the absolute is a word without meaning, and matter and space in the absolute are non-existent for us, because we cannot conceive them. If some philosophers speak of The Unknowable Absolute, this term can have only a relative meaning and implies that the Absolute is unknowable to us in our present condition. Nothing is unknowable to him who has reached a state in which he is able to know; but spiritual verities cannot be grasped by the mere intellect; to know them requires a certain degree of spiritual perfection. To conceive correctly or know, three factors are necessary: Knowledge, the Knower and the Known. If they exist on entirely different planes, they cannot assimilate and there will be no result. Absolute Knowledge means perfection, and to obtain it man must become perfect,—Eritis Deus [be divine]. Imperfect man cannot know The Absolute, he can only witness its manifestations.

The Absolute, independent of relations and conditions, is said to be the original cause of all phenomena. If we perceive the manifestations of wisdom, justice, order, harmony, unity, &c., we may conclude that it must be itself absolute wisdom, justice and unity. It must be only one, there can be no other, although its aspects may differ. Whatever exists can be only a mode of its manifestation.

An attempt to intellectually grasp The Absolute or to describe it, is equivalent to an attempt to describe a thing without attributes. Describing a thing means to give an account of its qualities, and a thing which has no qualities can neither be imagined nor described, because to describe it we must invest it with attributes and it then ceases to be The Absolute and becomes relative. Therefore all theological discussions about the nature of God (who is The Absolute) are useless; because God has no nature, but Nature is His manifestation. To deny God is to deny existence, because all existence is only a manifestation of God. To declare a belief in God is to declare a belief in something of which we in our present state of evolution can have no intellectual conception, and is therefore an intellectual absurdity. God can only be spiritually known, and the squabble about Deists and Atheists is a mere fight about words without any definite meaning. Every man is himself a manifestation of God, and as each man’s character differs from that of another, so each man’s idea of God differs from that of another, and each one has a god (an ideal) of his own. We speak of God as “He,” because He is the ever-active creative energy—the male principle—which manifests itself through Nature.

The Kabalists say that everything that exists is God and there is nothing which is not God. They only allude to The Absolute when they speak of Keter {R.H.—also: Kether} (the crown); because the representation of a crown refers to the existence of a king to whom it belongs. According to occult science this universal principle or the One Life has different modes of manifestation. It may be compared to a horse-shoe magnet, whose two poles represent two different modes of manifestation, the male and the female activity. The Cosmos may therefore be regarded as the manifestation of one principle, whose lowest is Matter and whoso highest is Spirit, but no sharp line can be drawn which divides the two, and between the two poles live the innumerable gradations of latent or active life in the seen and the unseen worlds. Therefore it is said that everything that appears to exist independent of the One Life is an illusion and the One Life is the only absolute reality.

To him who does not believe in the existence of God, God does not exist and His existence cannot be demonstrated. To him who feels the presence of God, God exists and it is useless to deny His existence to him who knows God. The materialist cannot conceive that which to him has no existence, but the religious enthusiast whose soul is filled with high aspirations and holy emotions, perceives God with his spiritual sense, no matter to what church the worshipper may belong or by what name he may call the Infinite; and no amount of reasoning from the lower intellectual plane will dispute away that which to him is a fact and an eternal reality; because he can realise it and identify himself with it and to deny God would be denying himself.

The caricatures of gods set up by the various churches as the only true God, are only the creations of an imperfect imagination. As every man has a god of his own, which is a symbol of the sum of his aspirations, so every church has its peculiar god, which is an outgrowth or a product of evolution of the ideal necessities, of that collective body of men, called a church. They are all true gods to them, because they answer their needs, and as their requirements change, so are their gods changing. As long as men are imperfect, their gods will be imperfect, as man becomes perfect, his god will become perfect, and when all men shall be perfect, they will all have the same perfect God, the same highest spiritual ideal, and the same universal reality, recognised alike by science and by religion; because there can be only one absolute truth, whose realisation is Wisdom.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism IX.

Man. ^[14]

“And God said: Let us make Man.”—Bible.

The most important question, that was ever asked and is still asked with anxiety and often with fear, is the same question that was propounded thousands of years ago by the Egyptian Sphinx, killing him who attempted to solve the riddle and did not succeed; What is Man? Ages have passed away since the question was first asked, nations have slain each other in foolish religious warfare, making vain efforts to impose upon each other such solution of the great problem as they believed they had found, but from the tombs of the past only re-echoes the same question; What is Man? And yet the answer seems to be simple. Intuition or its result Common Sense, if divested of religion? or scientific prejudices, tells us that Man is a solitary ray of the universally present Divine Light, the common source of everything that exists, a true child of the Great Spiritual “Sun.” As the ray of our sun only becomes visibly active in contact with dust, so the divine ray is absorbed, and reflected by matter. It mingles for a while with matter and draws up towards the sun such elements as are sufficiently refined to escape the attraction of Earth.

The sun-ray plays with the waves of the ocean; the boat, created by the contact of the water with light from above, extracts from below the refined material and the vapors rise to the sky, where, like ghosts of the seas, they wander, in clouds of manifold shapes, travelling free through the air, playing with the winds until the time arrives when their accumulated energies become active again and force their substance to descend once more to earth. In a similar manner, the divine ray mingles with matter while dwelling on earth, absorbing and assimilating whatever he chooses. As the butterfly flits from flower to flower, tasting the sweets of each, so the human monad passes from life to life, from planet to planet, gathering experience, knowledge and strength; but when his day of life is over, night follows and with it follows sleep bringing dreams of a vivid reality; the astral dross floats about, driven hither and thither by its inherent tendencies, until it re-descends to its element and dissolves in the astral-plane; but the spirit ascends to its source, taking with it the products of its experience beyond the limits of matter. Man’s love and intelligence are forces which are active beyond the confines of the grave or the smoke of the funeral-pyre; their energies may last for ages until they are exhausted, and the purified “ray,” endowed with the tendencies impressed upon him by his last visit to earth, seeks again association with matter, builds again his prison-house of animated clay, and appears an old actor in a new part on the ever-changing stage of life.

To build the new house the impressions gathered in his previous lives furnish the material. The slothful rich of the past may become the beggar of the future, the industrious worker in the present life may develop tendencies which may lay the foundation for his future greatness in this life or in the next. Suffering in one life-may produce patience and fortitude that will be useful in another; hardship will produce endurance; self-denial will strengthen the will; tastes, engendered in one life, may be our guides in another, and accumulated energies will be brought into action, whenever circumstances require it, during an existence on the material plane either in this life or another according to the eternal law of cause and effect.

A child may burn its fingers by touching the flame, and the adult may not remember, all the circumstances under which the accident did occur; still the fact that fire will burn and must not be touched will remain impressed upon his mind. In the same manner, the experiences gained in one life, may not be remembered with all their details in the next, but the impressions, which they produce, may remain, and the scientific knowledge of one life may become intuitional power in another. Again and again man passes through the wheel of evolution until his knowledge becomes perfect, when matter attracts him no longer and he ceases to be a man and becomes—what he is destined to be—a god.

Man, like the majority of organised beings, is an atom in the immensity of the universe; he cannot be divided and still remain a man; but, unlike other organised beings whose realisation of existence is confined to the physical plane—that which constitutes him a Man and distinguishes him from an animal—is a conscious and integral part of the universal, divine essence, that fills all space, being everywhere present in an active or latent state, and his spiritual consciousness is therefore not limited to a certain locality.

Who made Man?—Man makes himself, he is his own creator. The clay—the material body—that clings to the spiritual ray is taken from earth; the soul from the astral plane, the spirit belongs to heaven. Animal man, like the lower orders of nature, is a product of the blind law of necessity. As such, his mother is Nature, the over immaculate virgin; who presents time-born man to his father, the infinite spirit, to be transformed into a god. The physical attributes of the child and its mental qualifications are the result of inheritance and of previous or present conditions. Like the tree that can send its roots into the neighbouring soil and gather the nutriment by which it is surrounded, but cannot roam about in search of food at distant places, so animal man without wisdom has only a limited choice in the selection of such means of development as he may require; he grows because he cannot resist the law of necessity and the impulses given by nature. But as reason begins to enlighten him, his work of creation begins. The intelligence within says to the will: “Let us make Man.” She urges the will and rouses him up, and the will suddenly leaves its favourite occupation of serving the passions and begins to mould animal man in accordance with the divine image held up before him by wisdom, and transform him into a god.

Let us make Man means: let us make a divine man out of an animal man; let us surround the divine ray within us with the purest of essences gathered from the lower planes; let us transform the emotions into virtues in which the spiritual ray may clothe itself when it re-ascends to its throne.

Let us make man! It depends entirely on our efforts what kind of a man we shall make. To make an average man, or even a superior man in the common acceptation of the term, is not a very difficult matter. Follow the laws of diet and the rules of health, avoid the abuse of medicine, worry about nothing, care about nothing, and learn nothing except what is necessary to supply your physical wants, to satisfy your ambition and to give you advantage in life. Provide above all for yourself and never give anything away unless by doing so you can get more in return. By following these rules you will make a respectable animal, a “self-made” man, prominent, independent and rich—one who lives and dies on the plane of selfishness, an object of envy for many, an object of love for none, respected by many but not by himself.

But such is the influence of the higher nature of man, that even on that plane an apparent unselfishness will often bring material reward, and, while the inexorable miser is despised by all, he, who occasionally confers little favors, makes friends and may expect a return.

But there is another class of self-made men; those on the intellectual or spiritual planes. They stand before the world as the world’s benefactors, as philosophers, teachers, inventors or artists; they have what is called genius and, instead of being mere imitators, they exhibit originality. They benefit themselves by benefiting the world. Intellectual researches, that benefit no one, are unproductive; they resemble physical exercise with dumb-bells, by which muscular strength may be gained but no labour accomplished. An intellectual pursuit may be followed for merely selfish purposes; but, unless there is a love for the object of that study, little progress will be made, and, instead of a sage, a bookworm will be the result. True genius is a magician who creates a world for himself and for others; and his powers expand as he grows in perfection.

The material, out of which a man is constructed, are the emotions, the builder is the will, reason the superintendent, and wisdom the supreme architect. The building goes on without noise and no sound of the hammer is heard. We cannot build a house without solid material, and we may just as well attempt to run a steam-engine without fuel or water, as to make a genius out of a being without any emotions. The stronger the material, the more enduring will be the house, the more the emotions are powerful, the more energy will the genius possess, provided lie has sufficient will to control them and keep them in the proper places. A person without emotions is without virtues and without vices, he is without energy, a shadow, neither cold nor warm and necessarily useless. The passionate man is nearer to God, if he can master his passions and guide them into the proper, direction, than the man who has nothing to control, and nothing to conquer: “The kingdom of Heaven must be gained by violence.”

To produce a perfect building or to create a perfect man, the proportions must, be harmonious. Wisdom guides the work and Love furnishes the cement. An emotion is either a virtue or a vice according to the manner in which it is applied. Misapplied virtues become vices and well directed vices are virtues. A man, who acts according to the dictates of prudence alone, is a coward; one, who indiscriminately exercises his generosity, is a spendthrift; courage without caution is rashness; veneration without self-esteem produces superstition; charity without judgment makes a beggar; and even justice, if too stern and unbending and untempered by mercy, produces a miserly, cruel and despicable tyrant.

The irrational soul, attracted only by its desires and un-guided by wisdom, resembles a drunken man who has lost his physical balance; it totters from side to side, falls from one extreme into another and cannot guide its steps. Only an equilibrium of forces can produce harmony, beauty and perfection. The irrational soul, swayed by the emotions, forms an unfit habitation for the divine “ray,” which loves peace and tranquillity.

The ancient Alchemists knew how to create a Man. Their great Arcanum has now been divulged and their magnum opus is no longer a secret. They spoke about the rough stone (animal man) which must be calcinated by fire (passions) without getting burnt (succumbing to them), triturated (refined) by love, and dissolved in its own flame (permeated by wisdom) and pass through various processes, when it will turn from black into white, and become perfect. Then will the divine principles in man become divine, the base metal will change into gold, and the brute become a god.

The general plan, which they describe in such allegorical language, is the same for all, but the details necessarily differ according to the peculiar requirements of each individual case. One particular kind of diet is not adaptable to all, because different constitutions have different needs, and in the same manner men’s mental or moral needs differ. One man may develop faster through poverty, another by wealth, one man may need as his initial psychic stimulus the gentle and exalting influences of married life, while another one’s aspirations may be higher. Each man, who exercises his will for the purpose of his development, is to the extent of that exercise a practical occultist and his best guides are his own intuitions, flowing from the spiritual soul of the universe into his mind, if selfish emotions or motives do not prevent a harmony of vibration. Every man necessarily grows either in one direction or in another; but this growth may be accelerated or retarded by conduct. Those, who desire to grow fast and outstrip others, must act, and those, who desire to establish that equilibrium which brings peace, must possess the power of self-control. Perhaps it may be useful to keep in mind the following rules:—

1. 1. 1. Believe that there is nothing higher in the universe than the divine principle of man, and that man is exactly what he makes himself—not what he pretends to be—and nothing else. The true religion is the truth; idols are playthings for children.
      2. Learn that man is a component and integral part of universal humanity, and that, what affects one, acts and reacts on all. The highest expression of true religion is justice to all.
      3. Realise that man is only an embodiment of ideas and his physical body an instrument which enables him to come in contact with matter and to control it; and that this instrument should never be used for unworthy purposes. It should be neither worshipped nor neglected.
      4. Let nothing that affects your physical body, its comfort, or the circumstances in which you are placed, disturb the equilibrium of your mental emotions or the tranquility of your mind. Crave for nothing on the material plane, live above it without losing control over it. Guide your emotions and do not let your emotions guide you.
      5. Never expect any favors from anybody, but be always ready to assist others to the extent of your ability and according to the requirements of justice. Never fear anything but the moral law and you will not suffer. Never hope for any reward and you will not be disappointed. Never ask for love, sympathy or gratitude from any body, but be always ready to bestow them on others. Such things come to you only when they are not desired, and he, who expects them, makes himself only ridiculous.
      6. Learn to discriminate and to distinguish between the true and the false; and act up to your highest ideal of virtue.

Such and similar instructions are nothing new; they have been pronounced in various forms by the philosophers of all ages and have been collected in books. They have been taught by the ancient Rishis and Munis, by Buddha and Christ, Zoroaster, Confucius, Mohammed, Plato and Shakespeare, and every reformer. They have been preached in sermons and are written in poems and prose in works of philosophy, literature, fiction and art. They have been heard by all, understood by some, practised by a few. To learn them is easy, to realise them is difficult, and to adopt them in practical life is divine. The highest spiritual truths cannot be intellectually grasped; the reasoning powers of half-animal man cannot hold them, average man can only look up to those ideals which are perceptible to his spiritual vision in his moments of aspiration, and only gradually can he grow up into that higher plane, when, becoming less animal and more intuitive, he will be able to realise the fact that moral and spiritual growth are not necessary to please a god whose favor must be obtained, but that man himself becomes a god by that growth, and that he can stimulate that process only by calling his higher energies into action. These higher energies are either latent or active in man. They are the attributes of his spiritual soul which in the majority of men is yet in a state of infancy, but which in future generations will be more universally developed, when humanity as a whole, having progressed higher, will look back upon our present era as the age of ignorance and misery, while they themselves will enjoy the fruits of the higher evolution of Man.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism X .

The Two-fold Action of the Law of Karma on the Various Planes. ^[15]

By the term Karma we understand the law of conservation of energy which regulates the effects of merit or demerit. It is the law of compensation on a plane where individual will and reason comes into action; the law by which merit receives its reward and demerit its punishment; not according to the arbitrary decision of a natural or supernatural judge; but as a certain and necessary consequence of thoughts harboured or acts performed. To be capable of merit or demerit, it is necessary that the being deserving punishment or reward should be to some extent a responsible and reasonable being; because only such a being is competent to judge of his actions and to choose between good and evil according to his own will. A stone, a plant or an oyster cannot voluntarily confer benefits, avoid dangers or discriminate between good and evil, and although the law of cause and effect holds good on the lowest physical planes as well as on the higher ones, the law of Karma can only be said to come into operation when moral responsibility has commenced and it must cease with moral responsibility. Life is made up of the results of previous Karma gained either in this life or in a former one, and of the action of the will either consciously or unconsciously induced. The lowest kingdoms of nature act entirely in accordance with the laws of nature that control them; there is no exertion of individual will, consequently no individual responsibility, no merit or demerit, no punishment or reward. In the highest spiritual planes the individual will is entirely controlled by the universal will which is set in motion by supreme wisdom. There can be no more deviation from the law, evil intentions and evil acts have become impossible; to do good has become a matter of course, which does not need to be decided on or considered for a moment. There is no more choice and consequently no more merit, and no more action of the Law of Karma. To express it in other words: On the lowest planes of life desire has not yet attained to consciousness and consists only in the form of unconscious attraction and repulsion; on the highest spiritual planes selfish desire has ceased to exist and there is no more necessity to choose between good and evil, because everything is good.

This brings before us the question: What is good and what is evil? And we shall find that good and evil, in the sense in which they are commonly used, are relative terms, that an action may be good on one plane and at the same time bad on another, that what may be good for one individual may be bad for another, and that absolute good can only exist on the spiritual plane, while absolute evil can exist nowhere. Whatever is relatively good in one direction is relatively evil in another direction. No light can be imagined without darkness, and the word darkness has no meaning unless it refers to a contradistinction from light. To decide whether an action is good or evil we must first analyse its effects on all the planes of existence, in the physical, astral, intellectual, moral and spiritual planes, sum up the good results, compare them with the evil results it has produced, and the balance will show whether the action may be called good, bad or indifferent.

An action may be said to consist of three elements: The Motive, the Performance and the Act. A motive (desire or impulse) may exist without being put into execution, and only when it is put into action does it become an act; an act can only be accomplished when it is performed; but an act can be performed without a motive. The performance itself is only the mechanical process of putting the will into action and as such it possesses neither merit nor demerit; but the means which are taken for the purpose of accomplishing a result constitute intermediate acts and produce intermediate results. We see therefore two essential elements, which in a complete action come within the operation of the law of Karma, the motive and the act, each of which produces separate effects on separate planes; but which interact and react upon each other. The conservation of energy and the indestructibility of matter—in the physical as well as in the metaphysical sense—hold good on the higher as well as on the lower planes. All motion, whether in the material or spiritual world, is the result of previous motion on the plane on which it exists and produces subsequent motion on the same plane. A motive power on the physical plane can only produce a mechanical result on the physical plane, but the results of a mechanical action may give rise to mental emotions, intellectual processes, moral tendencies and spiritual aspirations; which again may react down to the physical plane. A mental impulse belongs to the astral plane and as such it acts on the astral plane; but the physical acts induced by a mental impulse will produce physical results, which again may react upon the higher planes. If the mental impulse is governed or directed by intelligence, it will have its primary effect in the sphere of the intellect, if it is under the guidance of moral considerations or spiritual aspirations, the higher spheres will be the ones primarily affected.

A motive without an act cannot affect the physical plane directly; but the disturbances caused by it on the astral plane may induce important changes on the physical plane. A sudden terror—for instance—may cause the heart to cease its action, the blood to recede from the brain and so induce death. Hate, love, revenge, jealousy, greed, envy, malice, etc., leave their impressions (which may become more or less permanent) on the features; the mind moulds the physical body and a man’s character is usually more or less perfectly expressed in the lineaments of his face, the development of his skull and the proportions and characteristics of the various internal and external parts of his body. If the motive originates from a high plane the effects acting through the astral plane upon the physical plane will be more powerful and lasting. So for instance a murder may be committed under a sudden impulse and on the spur of the moment, and the act may be regretted as soon as the physical force necessary to perform it is expended; but if the act is the result of long continued reasoning, there will be little or no regret, unless new causes come into action to produce a change of opinion. A motive—even without being put into action—is an accumulation of energy which cannot be annihilated, but which can be changed into another form, and be used in a different manner from that originally intended.

An act without a motive deserves neither merit nor demerit and can only primarily act on the lower planes, where it is governed by the law of cause and effect; but the results of that involuntary act may be productive of new causes which may affect the higher planes and from them react again upon the lower ones. If I break my leg by au unavoidable accident, I deserve neither merit nor demerit; but the primary consequences on the physical plane will be the same as if it had been broken on purpose. It was an act, not an action, because it was done without a motive; but I shall have to undergo physically the same suffering or inconvenience as if I had done it intentionally; and the suffering caused by the accident or by the confinement in the room, may give rise to new causes which will have their effects on the higher planes and from them react again upon the lower ones. A case is known of a woman who, while in a state of somnambulism, poisoned the food for her family, who partook of it in the morning and died. There was no conscious motive in that act and the primary effect consisted for her simply in the loss of her family. The effects on the higher planes, such as grief, sorrow, etc., were in this case caused by the effects of that act and would have been just the same if the act had been committed by another person.

A motive may be either good or bad, or good in one aspect and bad in another. If we save the life of an individual, from motives of benevolence, the motive will be good; if we kill an animal uselessly, the motive will be bad; if we kill one animal to prolong the life of another, the motive will be good in one aspect and bad in another. The same may be said about acts without motives. If an accidental discharge of your gun scares away a robber, the act is good, if the ball hits your comrade, the act is bad; but if it hits the robber, the act is bad for the robber and in some respect good for you.

An action to be good must have a good motive, and the best of motives amounts to very little unless it is properly executed. If we commit an act of stupidity with the best of intentions, we feel almost the same regret as if we had made an intentional mistake, and if we should happen to do a great humanitarian act by mere accident, it would give us little satisfaction, because there is no meritorious motive attached to it. To determine whether an action is good or evil it is not only necessary that the intention should be meritorious, but that the act itself should lead to good results. If I give a beggar some money so that he may get the means of satisfying his hunger, my motive is evidently good; but whether the act was good or bad will depend on the use which he makes of the money. The act of giving is under all circumstances bad for me on the physical plane, because I dispossess myself of the sum given, and if the beggar spends the money for the purpose of getting drunk, it will also be bad for me on the intellectual plane, because I shall have cause to regret my want of judgment. All this would go to make the action bad; but if the beggar should spend the money for what it was intended, then the action would—notwithstanding my loss, on the physical plane—be preeminently good.

Again, if I give a beggar some money, having sufficient cause to believe that he will use it for a bad purpose, then the motive will be undoubtedly bad, and if he does what I expect him to do, the act will also be bad for me not only on the physical but on the moral plane. Should he however, in spite of my anticipations, make some good use of that money, then I shall have done a good act with evil motives,—an act which may bring me a reward on the physical plane, but for which no direct good Karma could be expected on the moral plane.

We may now divide all complete actions into four classes:

1. 1. 1. Actions in which the motive may be preeminently good and the act preeminently evil. In such cases the Karma created by the motive will have its immediate good effects on the higher planes, while the effects created by the act on the lower planes will be evil. History tells us of many great criminals who committed the most horrible crimes with the best of intentions. Torqoemada burned heretics in order to save their souls; Robespierre butchered people to liberate mankind from servitude and to put a stop to differences of opinion. The motives which inspired such persons were undoubtedly good from a moral stand-point,—however much they may have been mistaken intellectually—and the effects produced by such motives must necessarily have been good on their moral planes and given them some temporary happiness; while the effects of such evil acts will necessarily be felt on the lower planes and render them miserable. A person during his life may be physically happy and mentally suffering, or he may be happy in his mind while undergoing physical tortures; but when after death a division of his higher principles from the lower ones takes place, such a simultaneous state of happiness and misery becomes impossible. He cannot at the same time rejoice and suffer; the effect of one set of energies must exhaust itself before the other energies can come into play. But we have seen that the higher energies are more potential and enduring than the lower ones. They will therefore be the first to act and to unroll themselves, while the bad Karina created on the lower planes will have its effects on these lower planes whenever the individual monad redescends to them by the process of reincarnation.
      2. Actions in which the motive is preeminently bad and the act preeminently good. Such actions may be imagined to occur if a person commits a selfish or criminal act, which produces beneficial results that were not originally intended. For instance a hypocrite may ostentatiously endow a humanitarian institution with funds, for the secret purpose of gaining political influence, which he expects to use for bad purposes. In such cases the effects created by the act on the lower planes will only be felt on the lower planes. He may obtain riches and honors, but as there was no good motive to create Karma on the higher plane, no direct good result can there be expected, while on the other hand the evil intentions by which his acts were inspired will produce suffering on the moral plane. Now if the sum of his evil Karma created on the higher planes preponderates over his good Karma on these planes, the evil energies must become exhausted before the effects of the accumulation of good energies can come into play. It must however be remembered, that comparatively few people do evil simply for the sake of doing evil. A motive may be selfish and induce a selfish act on account of some real or imaginary necessity, and in such cases the evil energies created are not sufficiently strong and powerful to overcome the effects of the man’s good motives and good actions, and the Karma of evil will remain latent in the lower planes until the individual monad redescends to those planes in its next reincarnation.
      3. Actions in which both motive and act, are preeminently good. Under this head we may classify all actions which relieve individual or collective suffering or assist in the progress of humanity, and which are undertaken without any selfish considerations. These are the actions of all truly great reformers, philosophers, statesmen, poets, inventors, artists and teachers, as well as of those persons who attend to their duties without any view to personal reward or punishment to be received either in this life or in another. Such actions necessarily create good Karma on the higher as well as on the lower planes; but as no act can be absolutely good in all planes, there must be necessarily relative evil mixed up with it, the amount of which may be large or small according to circumstances and coincidences. History furnishes sufficient examples. Some of the greatest inventors have lived and died in poverty and misery; because they concentrated all their energies on the intellectual plane, neglecting the claims of the physical plane. Often the unavoidable coincidences necessary to accomplish a good result are so unfortunate as to render it almost doubtful whether we should consider their originators as criminals or heroes. If we for instance examine the history of Napoleon I, we can hardly doubt that he began his conquests with the good motive of spreading civilisation, neither can it be doubted that by his conquests civilisation was spread and the world became more enlightened; and yet how many individuals were made the victim of his noble ambition, and how many homes were made desolate by his victories!—The soldier perishes in the battle, and the statesman who causes his death only knows the approximate number of his victims. They cannot accuse him as their murderer, they are the victims of casualties or acts without premeditation; the general may be responsible for the safety of an army; but he cannot be held responsible for the killing of an individual. Whether his acts are meritorious or deserving of demerit will depend on the justice of his cause and the manner in which he performs his duty.
      4. Actions in which both motive and act are preeminently evil. To this class belong those actions which are performed with entirely selfish motives and for purely selfish purposes on the physical plane. They include such actions as hinder the progress of an individual or of a community, they include acts that are committed for the purpose of gratifying passions, such as revenge, lust, hatred, jealousy, greed, etc., they include what are called crimes, and are in most countries punishable by law. The motives in such cases arise from the lowest planes of thought, the acts belong to the lowest planes and the Karma created will act on the lowest planes. Even the worst criminals have in the majority of cases some good impulses and may have done some good, and unless their evil energies are so powerful as to entirely overcome the effects of their good Karma, the evil energies on the lower planes cannot become active until the energy of the good Karma is exhausted. But if the evil energies accumulated during life are so powerful as to entirely overpower and neutralise the accumulation of occasionally manifested good energies, than {then} the evil Karma will immediately come into action in the subjective condition and the good Karma manifest its effects in the next objective existence.

The majority of evil actions are not perpetrated from absolutely evil motives, but for the purpose of receiving some benefit, so for instance a theft is not usually committed for the purpose of depriving the possessor of the article desired by the thief; but because the thief wants to enjoy its possession. Such acts are preeminently evil; but as they are not inspired by any positively malicious motive, the energy of the Karma created by them is not so powerful as to overcome a certain amount of energy that has resulted from actions which were done for good purposes. There is however a point at which the Karma created by good actions and the Karma created by bad actions might be so evenly balanced, that they would exactly neutralise each other. In this case the personality would have neither good nor bad energy, and it would amount to the same thing as if he had never existed, or as if his life had consisted in actions which were neither good nor evil.

1. 1. 5. Actions which are neither good nor evil. Under this head may be classed the actions of idiots, imbeciles and weak-minded people and such actions as are done from fear of punishment or hope of reward. While the good or evil produced by the act creates effects on the physical plane, it is the motive which makes an action good or evil in the common acceptation of those terms. But an act without any intellectual or moral motive can create no active energy on those planes; hope and fear belong to the astral plane, they may be considered as emotions of the animal principle in man. But where no higher activity is at work, there can be no accumulation of energy on higher planes; there will be neither merit nor demerit, no important Karma to produce effects; such persons are neither good nor bad, or as the Christian Bible says, they are neither cold nor hot; they are useless, and for such there is no permanent existence possible, because no higher energies are brought into consciousness on the higher planes, there is nothing that could or would reincarnate as an individual. Man may be looked at as a materialised or

incorporated idea or a set of ideas; but a person who has no idea of his own and no will of his own worth speaking of, an unthinking person, whose ideas are mere reflections of those of others, will, after the dissolution of his lower principles, have no need for a new form in which to incorporate his higher ideas, for the simple reason that he has none such left. This fact explains the danger that arises from a false belief in personal gods and saviours; because weak-minded men and women will not exert their mental energies; thinking that an invisible saviour will do for them what they ought to do themselves; the motives of their actions are caused by cowardly fears or idle hopes and they gradually lose their individuality, unless they are aroused and made to exert themselves, and so create Karma.

1. 1. 6. Actions which are absolutely evil. An action to be absolutely evil, would have to be one in which the motive as well as the act would be evil on all planes and in every aspect, and such an action is unthinkable; because every intellectual motive has some object in view, by which it desires to accomplish something and if it accomplishes that which it desires, then the act was good for that purpose. Moreover most criminals commit acts by which they themselves at least desire to receive some benefit. An all-powerful being who would want to destroy the world, would do so for some purpose, and the suicide who seeks to destroy himself wants to escape from life. But there are actions which very nearly approach absolute evil. Buch actions are those which are committed for the sole purpose of doing evil without receiving thereby any personal benefit. If a great deal of intellectual energy is employed to execute such actions; the energies made active will be very strong, and in proportion to their strength will be their duration. The ideas which make these energies active, necessarily do not rise up to the moral plane, they move entirely in the sphere of the intellect and we see therefore in such cases a strong and enduring energy accumulated in the lower planes, where those energies will finally become exhausted which can only be accomplished by long individual suffering.
      7. Actions which are absolutely good. An act which accomplishes its purpose is in so far good and if the motive that inspired it was good, then the action may be said to be good; provided that the intermediate results did no serious harm; but an action which would be absolutely good on all planes and in every aspect would be difficult to imagine. An act means a change and a change can only be produced at the expense of energy. An act of benevolence causes a loss to the benefactor on one plane, while it may benefit him on another; and even the planting of a useful tree is done at the expense of time, space and energy; which might perhaps have been expended to some more useful purpose. But as there are actions which come very near to being absolutely evil, so there are others which come very near to being absolutely good. The energies created (made active) in such cases belong to the highest spheres and are enduring in proportion to the power of will by which they have been set in motion. They become necessarily exhausted in the course of time during the subjective condition; but this process is one that causes happiness, in the same sense as the recollection of a good action causes happiness, while the memory of a bad action causes remorse.

Life may be therefore called a great mathematical problem in which he will gain most who best knows how to calculate, and to foresee the effects of his actions. The good mathematician will be the gainer when the book of life is closed, a poor mathematician will have debts to pay; while those who have neither merit nor demerit will have no claims, neither can anything be claimed from them, and nature needs them no longer. But those who have accumulated a large store of good energy without leaving any debts behind will have treasures laid up which may not be exhausted for ages, or they may enter the sphere of absolute good, whence no more return to matter is necessary.

The process of human development and the attainment of perfection is therefore accomplished by natural laws. It is not merely directed by sentiment; but is a scientific process, guided by mathematical rules, which demonstrate that to be good it is necessary to be wise, and that the highest expression of wisdom is universal justice.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism XI.

Consciousness^[16]

Arise, oh child, and bathe your earthly senses
In yonder fountain of eternal light. Goethe.— “Faust.”

The term “consciousness” signifies realisation. A being who realizes its own existence, is conscious, and as its states of existence change, so its consciousness changes. A new state of existence is incomprehensible unless it is experienced and realised, and it begins from the moment that it is realised. If a person were the legal possessor of millions of money and did not know it, he would have no means to dispose of it or enjoy it. A person is not conscious of the existence of a thing, unless he directs his attention to it, and things which he does not perceive, have to him no existence. He may be—so to say—alone in the midst of a crowd, he may be threatened by destruction and not know it; he may be surrounded by light and not able to sec it; he may have a divine principle within him and not perceive it. He may be unmoved in the midst of emotions which he cannot understand, be may have strength and not know how to exercise it. To realise a thing it is not sufficient to see it. To see a thing, is to dream of it; to realise it, is to become conscious of it. Life is truly a dream and many do not wake up before it is ended.

There is no death; it is only a transformation of life and a consequent change of consciousness. This change may be gradual and imperceptible as it is in the waking state, or it may he sudden, like the waking up from the subjective state during a dream to the realisation of the objective surroundings. If the change from one state of consciousness to another is gradual, the change may not even be noticed; but if there is a sudden transition from one state of consciousness into another, the events that occurred during the previous state may not be remembered in the next.

Consciousness during a dream differs from the consciousness during the waking state, and the consciousness during deep and dreamless sleep is different from consciousness during a dream. A person in a deep sleep is not dead, but lives in a spiritual condition which he cannot remember when he awakes; and a person who dreams may or may not remember his dream. A person under the influence of chloroform may lose all external sensation and yet be conscious of his surroundings. His consciousness is sometimes transferred to his astral body, and while the physical man is asleep and unconscious, and perhaps undergoing some painful surgical operation, the astral man may be awake and conscious and watch the proceedings. A person in his normal condition may hide his emotions, but when under the influence of a drug or an anesthetic the intellect loses its control, the emotional nature of the person usually manifests its peculiar characteristics. A person in a trance may be fully awake on a higher plane of existence, and be more wise and more intelligent during that state, and when his physical consciousness returns and his attention is attracted to a lower plane, he will usually remember nothing of what he said or did during the previous condition. The highest spiritual energies are during deep and dreamless sleep united with the person’s own divine Atma, a state which he cannot remember when he awakes; and a person in the state of Samadhi lives entirely in his higher consciousness, and may have no knowledge during that state of any event on the lower planes.

Consciousness does not necessarily begin where sensation begins. We see chemicals change their form and color under the influence of light, and sensitive plants fold their leaves at the touch of an insect, and yet they can hardly be said to be conscious or to realise their existence. An oyster has sensation, but it does not realise its position in nature; a man may feel the divine element within him and be capable of high aspirations; but as long as he does not realise those powers, he can no more use them than he could use money deposited for him in a bank, of the existence of which he knows nothing. Consciousness is therefore a relative term. The more a person learns to realise the true state of his existence, the more he becomes conscious. If he does not realise his true position, he is deluded; if he fully knows himself and his surroundings, he is an adept. To become fully conscious of one’s powers is the most difficult problem, and he who solves it, becomes immortal.

The lowest state of consciousness is the purely physical consciousness. It is the consciousness of the animal enjoying animal pleasures or suffering physical pain. It is the realisation of the sensation of the nerves, which may either excite pleasure or pain and give rise to the lower emotions. A person giving himself up to such a sensation may become entirely unconscious of everything except that sensation; he—so to say—exists then only in the nerve centre which is the seat of that sensation. It is a degrading sight, to see an intelligent person give way under the influence of a small amount of physical pain, or to see him entirely absorbed in gluttony or in the brutal enjoyment of some other animal pleasure. On the other hand history speaks of men and women whose souls rejoiced, while their earthly tabernacles were being devoured by flames at the stake, or undergoing the tortures of the rack.

If a person by the power of his will withdraws his attention from any part of his body or from any other object, he then becomes unconscious of any sensation occurring in that part or in that object; or he may concentrate his whole attention in another person or object, and anything that may happen to them, he will then to a certain extent feel as if it bad happened to himself. A bird may drop down dead when its mate is killed, and a mother may actually feel the pain created by an accident happening to her child; because no being stands entirely isolated in nature, and the more love unites them, the more do they become conscious that they are one.

So-called death is a cessation of physical sensation; but not a cessation of the sensation of the energies acting on the higher planes. Man passes into another state of existence in which he realises a new variety of sensations, which are as real to him as the physical sensations experienced during physical life. His consciousness may be immediately transferred to the astral plane, where he may be fully conscious of the emotions that swayed him during his life in his physical body, or he may temporarily fall asleep in his astral form and his consciousness be transferred to the spiritual plane; but sooner or later the still active energies in the astral plane will re-awaken a more or less distinct consciousness in that plane. He may fully realise his existence in that plane and may remember the events of his physical life; or he may be like a person who is half aroused from sleep and only incompletely realise the conditions by which he is surrounded.

If, during that state, he again comes in contact with the physical plane by the assistance rendered through the mediumistic organisation of persons living on the physical plane, he will become more fully conscious of that lower existence and be attracted to it, and in proportion as he realises the lower, he will lose sight of the higher.

But as the life-forces on the physical plane become exhausted and the physical and odic bodies dissolve, so the astral energies become exhausted, and the astral body dissolves into its elements sooner or later. There are still higher energies left active, including those belonging to the intellectual, moral and spiritual planes, and when they become fully active, the individual enters his devachanic condition. There these higher energies continue to act, and to realise their existence; consciousness consequently continues to exist, until in the course of time the momentum which they have acquired during physical life is exhausted, and the unconscious monad returns to earth to gather new strength in a new personality by the process of reincarnation.

Consciousness on the astral plane is a realisation of the instincts, impulses, emotions and passions belonging to that plane. It may be more or less perfect during life on the physical plane and consist in a vague and undefined feeling of attraction and repulsion, of sympathy and antipathy, and give rise to presentiments and warnings. We meet strangers and at once feel attracted towards them or repelled; a great danger may threaten, and although our physical senses cannot perceive it, our astral consciousness becomes aware of it and the astral man may impress the physical man with a feeling of danger; or the astral man may become fully conscious and describe the coming danger down to its smallest details. Persons whose whole attention is directed to the physical plane, will not often perceive presentiments, but persons who habitually live, so to say, in two worlds (meaning two states of consciousness) may have them frequently. In the state of trance or somnambulism, the consciousness is entirely concentrated on the higher planes and forgets the objective existence of the physical body, or looks upon it as a distinct being, which is to a certain extent under its care. It may then prescribe for it as a physician prescribes for a patient, and give directions, which, when the physical consciousness awakes, are instinctively followed out; for it is a remarkable fact, that a promise made by the astral man is invariably fulfilled by the physical man, although the latter will not remember ever having made any such promise.

As the physical man may dream, so may also the astral man, and if his astral consciousness is not fully active, the sleep-walker may go where the man in his normal state could not go, and the physical body may thereby be exposed to danger.

If the higher consciousness is fully active, the person leads a life during that state quite different from the physical state. Things which are attractive to him in one state may be repulsive to him in the other, and a person may hate another person in his waking condition and worship him while in a trance.^[17] What seems illusive to the physical man, is a reality to the astral man, and what appears objective in one state, seems to be a delusion in another. The physical brain receives distinct impressions only through the physical senses, and the sensations of the astral-brain leave no permanent impressions on the physical brain, and it is only during a half conscious condition that indistinct impressions from both planes may be perceived.

During the ordinary mesmeric trance the astral consciousness of the person is often not complete, and is more or less influenced by the magnetiser. The magnetised person will describe a certain place correctly, although he may never have been there; provided his magnetiser has been there, and if the latter will imagine a certain object to be in that place; although that object may not be there at all, the mesmerised person will describe it as if it were there. But sometimes the astral man escapes from the subjection of the mesmeriser, he becomes self-conscious and acts independently. As a person in the normal state may be physically conscious, “absent-minded” or wholly unconscious, so the astral individual may be conscious, half-conscious or unconscious. The astral body of a person in a sleep or in trance may be attracted to certain places or persons and visit them without being able to realise its surroundings; it may, as is often the case alter separation by death from the physical body—be attracted to places or persons in a half-conscious condition, and being partly magnetised into consciousness by another person, give intelligent answers; or it may, either before or after death, be fully conscious and act with judgment and reason.

If we steadily concentrate our thought on a person or a place, the highest thought-energies actually visit that place. They go to the desired locality, and if the person has been there before, it will not be difficult to find it. If on such occasions our astral principles are sufficiently refined to accompany our thought, then our astral-body will go with it, projected by the power of will, and the more intensely we think of that place, the more easily will this be accomplished. We shall then actually visit that place and we may be conscious of what we are doing; and on awaking to physical consciousness we may or may not remember what we have seen; but if our lower astral principles cling to the physical body, having more affinity with it, than with our thoughts; then—although our thought may visit a certain place—consciousness cannot become active there; because there is not sufficient material accompanying it to make it act independently.

This then is the coveted secret, how the astral body may be projected to a distance. It is a process which may be acquired by birth or learned by practice. There are certain persons, in whom in consequence of either an inherited peculiarity of their constitution or from sickness, such a separation between the physical and the astral bodies may voluntarily or involuntarily take place, and the astral body may then either consciously or unconsciously travel to distant places or persons, and either by the assistance of its own odic body or by means of the odic emanations of other persons, it may “materialise” into a visible and tangible form.

A higher state of consciousness than the merely astral consciousness is consciousness on the intellectual and moral planes. The individual rises—so to say—up to the realms of knowledge and justice and bathes in its fountains. A man who is completely immersed in the pursuit of some intellectual object may be conscious of nothing else but that object and not realise his physical surroundings or experience lower emotions. He may be in a state of abstraction, and while his body is in a certain locality, his intellect may wander in the sphere of ideas. A person whose moral consciousness is more or less fully developed, realises to that extent what is right and what is wrong; he attains to the extent of that knowledge comparative freedom of will and becomes less affected by the emotions which a sense of isolation produces.

At a low stage of life individual consciousness begins. Gradually the animal realises its position in nature as a form distinct from other forms of being. Its whole attention is given to the claims of its physical wants and its pleasures. If a man occupies himself exclusively with the necessities or desire of an existence that terminates when the physical body ceases to live, and disbelieving in the existence of an unseen universe gives no heed to its voices; he will only realise his existence on the physical plane. To develope a higher consciousness a person should not allow himself to be captivated by the impressions of the senses, but concentrate his attention upon the impressions received from within. There are various modes recommended to accomplish this purpose; but they have generally speaking the same object in view,—abstraction of the senses from the exterior world and concentration of the thought upon the interior.

A man may be present at the delivery of an eloquent sermon, and unless he listens to what is said, the sermon will have no effect upon him. A man who never listens to the voice of his conscience will gradually lose the power to hear it, to a person who pays no attention to the meaning of symbols, symbols will cease to have any meaning.

To conquer death, man must become conscious of life in its higher states of activity. His lower consciousness ceases; when his physical, odic and astral body cease to exist. If the elements that constitute a higher existence are not active during life, they will also remain inactive after death; and there can be no realisation of the existence of something that does not exist; but a spiritual consciousness that comes into existence during life on the lower plane, will continue to exist on the higher planes. It does not come into existence on those planes after death; because it exists already, but it becomes much more vivid on these planes, after the entire activity of the energies acting on the lower planes has been transferred to them.

The difficulty in the way of development consists in making the physical brain capable of receiving the influences of the higher planes, or—in other words—of transferring the higher astral and spiritual consciousness to the physical plane, and this is accomplished by the process of evolution, which may be slow or fast according to the manner in which we assist the process of nature by our own efforts. When this point is reached, the individual ceases to be conscious of being an individual and realises that he is one with the infinite all. To attain this state of consciousness is the aim of those that desire to arrive at the highest state of perfection.

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Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism [XII.]^[18]

Ideation

“Everything in the occult universe which embraces all the primal causes is based upon two principles: Cosmic Energy and Cosmic Ideation.”

According to the usual definition, Mind is “the intellectual power in man,” and as by Man is meant a person, this definition makes of Mind something confined within the physical body, and in fact some of our modern physiologists have stated that in their opinion Mind is a function of the brain. But if this narrow definition were true, there could be no transmission of thought to a distance, because there would be nothing to act as a medium for such transmission. No sound can be heard in a space from which the air has been exhausted, and no thought could travel from one individual to another without a corresponding material existing between them to act as a conductor; but it is well known, that the tunes produced in a musical instrument do not die within that instrument, but can be heard at distances according to their pitch and their power, and it is now admitted even by the most critical investigators of psychological subjects^[19] that thought-transference is not only possible, but of everyday occurrence, and any one who desires to investigate this matter, will easily find ways to make suitable experiments, either by impressing his thoughts silently upon others, or—if he is of a sensitive nature—by letting others impress their thoughts upon him; and he will find, that—as the tones emanating from a musical instrument may induce corresponding vibrations in a similarly constructed instrument—so the thought-vibrations emanating from one brain, may induce similar thoughts and ideas in similarly constructed brains.

Light travels through the ether with a velocity of over one hundred thousand miles a second; thoughts pass with a similar velocity from one brain to another. A ray of light may be seen to flash through space, and may be intercepted by some non-conducting material. An idea flashes through space and may be seen and intercepted by an adept. Mind is a certain state of the universally active energy of the Cosmos; and as the lungs inhale air and breathe it out again in a changed condition, so the brain receives ideas, transforms them in its laboratory, and sends them out again. A sound may be heard by an indefinite number of persons, and a thought may affect the world. As a pebble thrown into water produces concentric waves, which grow wider and wider but less distinct as distance increases; so a thought may affect a person, a family or a country; while distant lands may not receive it until the ripple beats again and again upon their shores.

This carrier of intelligence may be rendered active in various degrees of intensity and projected with various degrees of will-power. Intense thought is more powerful than a merely passive play of the imagination. As the rays of a lighted candle are most active around the flame, so this thought-ether (Akasa) is most active or concentrated around sensitive centres and the organs of thought, and may there become, so to say, crystallised and rendered objective to the person from whose brain they are evolved. To think of a thing is to form an image in the mind, and the more the thought is intense, well defined and free from vacillation, the more does the image formed become real. The more, unselfish the thought, the more it expands; the more selfish, the more will it contract, isolate and destroy, becoming consumed in its own fire. Purity of thought means singleness of purpose without any foreign admixture; pure thoughts alone are powerful. Impure thoughts create fancies and hallucinations; pure thoughts call powerful spirits (states of mind) into existence.

Singleness of purpose being an essential element in all magical operations, it follows that spiritual effects cannot be produced for material purposes. Genuine love, patriotism or benevolence cannot be bought for money. A saint cannot fall into a religious ecstasy for pay, and if a Yogi would exhibit his powers for material gain, he would soon lose them. Imitations can be bought for money; but the genuine article requires a higher motive, and true magical powers can never be obtained by those who wish to employ them for their own selfish interest.

An idea evolved in the laboratory of the brain may be impressed upon the concentrated thought-ether (Astral Light) surrounding and penetrating the brain of another, and if the intensity is strong enough, it may there become objective to that person. In this way a person or a number of persons may see the forms of the ideas of another person in an objective form and become hallucinated or “psychologised” through him.

An idea impressed upon the Astral Light of a person may or may not come to the consciousness of that person; and such an impression may be clear or it may be distorted; but as the sound of a vibrating string lingers longest around the instrument that produced it; so the thoughts and ideas remain impressed in the memory of those who harboured them. Unwelcome thoughts make usually a merely superficial impression, exalted and spiritual ideas penetrate more deeply into the mind. If a person takes a retrospect of his past life, he will—generally speaking—find pleasing events more deeply engraved upon his memory, than disagreeable or painful occurrences, unless the latter should have been of uncommon intensity. All thoughts, once evolved, linger more or less in the Astral-Light. To remember a thing is to read it in the Astral-Light. It is the book of memory upon whose pages all events are recorded, and the deeper they are engraved, the longer will they last; even when physical consciousness has faded away. Old age or disease may have rendered the physical man unable to run at will through its pages; but to the astral man they will present themselves unasked, neither will they go away at his bidding. Good thoughts and actions make deeper impressions than bad thoughts and bad actions, provided their intensity is the same; because the former are more refined and able to penetrate more deeply. Gross thoughts and emotions remain in the astral-shell after death and die with that shell. Spiritual recollections go with the higher spiritual elements into the devachanic condition. Evil remembrances cannot be effaced from memory before their effects are exhausted, and to brood over them engraves them only more deeply. Good recollections last longer; but even their energies become gradually exhausted and the spiritual monad will go to sleep, to reawaken in its next objective life on earth.

Not only men and animals have their memory; but each stone, each plant, and every physical substance has its surrounding Akasa, in which is stored up, its own past history and the history of its surroundings,^[20] so that every single thing—no matter how insignificant it may be—could give an account of its daily life, from the beginning of its existence as a form up to the present, to him who is able to read.

Every thought, every word, and every act, leaves its impression in the Astral-Light, which impression—if conditions are favorable—may become objective and visible even to less sensitive persons; who may mistake them for apparitions or ghosts. “Haunted houses” are not a mere fiction. Deeds committed with a great concentration of thought, live there as images in the Astral-Light, and have a tendency to repeat themselves and may induce other persons to commit similar acts. Crimes of a certain character may become epidemic in certain localities, and an act committed in a certain place may induce others to commit the same act again. A case is known, in which a prisoner hung himself in his cell, and several other persons who were successively shut up in the same cell hung themselves likewise.

As the moon reflects the light of the sun, so does the mind of man reflect the universal Mind. The human soul is not a musical instrument; which merely plays upon itself; but it may be compared to a harp which is made to sound harmoniously, if touched by the hand of a master. It may be compared to a “smaragdine tablet” upon which the thoughts of the Supreme are engraved in letters of light. The seers and prophets of all ages have heard and understood that language; but they could only reproduce it imperfectly through the imperfect language of their times.

As every form is an expression of a mental state, the mental state which determines the form exists in the Astral-Light before it manifests itself on the physical plane. An emotional or moral disease may exist before the physical body becomes affected by it, or a physical disease may induce an emotional or moral disease. A man’s morality often depends on the state of his physical health, and the state of his physical health on his morality.^[21] Two persons may externally look alike; yet the moral atmosphere radiated by one may be pure, and that of the other poisonous; but in the course of time the state of their moral attributes will become expressed in the form of their features. This difference in the invisible mental states often makes itself felt quite independent of external appearance, and intuitive persons may perceive a vast difference in all objects, although these objects may apparently present the same form. The character of one house may be quite different from that of another; although the architecture and furniture of both may be of the same kind; and the more impressible a person is, the more will he perceive such a difference; while a dull person may see no difference at all.

A certain state of mind induces similar states in its surroundings; or, in other words, the conditions of the Astral-Light of one form modify those of another form. A lock of hair, a piece of clothing, the handwriting of a person or any article he may have touched, handled or worn, may indicate to an intuitive individual that person’s state of health, his physical, emotional, intellectual and moral attributes and qualifications. The picture of a murderer may not only be impressed on the retina of his victim and, in some instances, be reproduced by means of photography; but it is surely impressed on all the surroundings of the place where the deed occurred and can there be detected by the psychometer, who may thus come en rapport with the criminal, and even follow the events of his life after he has left that locality and hunt him down just as the bloodhound traces the steps of a fugitive slave.^[22]

This tendency of the Astral-Light to inhere in material bodies gives amulets their powers and invests keep-sakes and relics with certain occult properties. A ring, a lock of hair, or a letter from a friend, riot only conjures up that friend’s picture in a person’s memory; but it furthermore brings us en rapport with the peculiar mental state of which that person was or is a representation. If you wish to forget a person, or free yourself from his magnetic attraction, part from everything that “reminds” you of him, or select only such articles as call up disagreeable memories or disgusting sights and are therefore repulsive. Articles belonging, to a person may bring us in sympathy with that person, although the fact may not come to our consciousness, and this circumstance is sometimes used for purposes of black magic.

As every form is the representation of a certain mental state, every object has such attributes as belong to that state, and this fact may explain why every substance has its sympathies and its antipathies; why the loadstone attracts iron and iron attracts the oxygen of the air; why hydroscopic bodies attract water, why affinities exist between certain bodies, why some substances change their colours under certain coloured rays, while others remain unaffected, etc.

Looked at in this light it does not seem quite so absurd to believe that the ancients should have attributed certain virtues to certain precious stones, and imagined that the Garnet was conducive to joy, the Chalcedony to courage, the Topaz promoting chastity, the Amethyst assisting reason, and the Sapphire intuition. A spiritual force to be effective requires a sensitive object to act upon, and in an age which tends to extreme materialism, spiritual influences may cease to be felt,^[23] but if a person cannot feel the occult influences of nature, it does not necessarily follow that they do not exist, and that there may not be others who may be able to perceive them, because their impressional capacities are stronger.

Only the ignorant man believes that he knows everything. What is really known is only like a grain of sand on the shore of the ocean in comparison to what is still unknown. Physiologists know that certain plants and chemicals have certain powers, and to a certain extent they explain their secondary effects. They know that Digitalis decreases the quickness of the pulse by paralysing the heart; that Belladonna dilates the pupil by paralysing the muscular fibres of the Iris, that opium in small doses produces sleep by causing anæmia of the brain; while large doses produce coma by causing congestion; but why these substances have such effects, or why a chemical compound of nitrogen, oxygen, carbon and hydrogen may be exceedingly poisonous in one chemical combination; while the same substances if combined in a different stœchiametrical proportion maybe used as food, neither chemistry nor physiology can tell us at present. If we however look upon all forms as symbols of mental states, it will not be more difficult to imagine why Strychnine is poisonous, than why hate can Kill, or fear paralyse the heart.

A mental state is the result of various elements that called it into existence, and a simple idea which is once firmly rooted in the mind, is difficult to change. If an idea is complicated, it is less difficult to modify it in its details, so that gradually an entirely different set of ideas may be the result. In physical chemistry the law is analogous. Compound bodies may be easily changed into other combinations; but the so-called single bodies cannot be changed at present. Yet there are indications that even these single bodies are the results of combinations of still more primitive elements. It has been observed that when lightning struck gilded ornaments, they have become blackened, and it has been found on analysing the blackened matter, that the presence of sulphur was distinctly indicated. Unless sulphur exists in the lightning, it must have existed in the gold and have been evolved by the action of lightning. We may then fairly assume that gold contains the elements of sulphur, and this is no anomaly in the case of gold, as other metals have also been proved to contain the elements of sulphur, and the dreams of the alchemist may have some foundation^[24] after all. But sulphur is supposed to be related to nitrogen, and the elements of nitrogen are believed to be hydrogen and carbon, and if we go still further we may find that even on the physical plane all forms are only modifications of one primordial element.

Corpora non agunt nisi fluida sint.^[25] The great solvent in physical chemistry is heat; the great solvent in mental chemistry is the Will. “As it is above, so it is below,” and the laws that govern Mind have their corresponding laws in the realm of physical matter. The laws of the Universal Mind may be studied by observing the action of the mind of man. Man’s ideation produces certain effects in the small world that surrounds him, and cosmic ideation produces similar effects on a scale which is immeasurably greater. The whole of the human body is alive, the brain is the seat of intelligence and infuses it—so to say—into the various parts of the body; determining their movements and attitudes and the expression of the features. Thoughts come and go; some are invited, others intrude. Good ideas illuminate and lighten the heart, evil ideas render it dark and heavy. As the ideation changes, so changes the expression of form, and that change may be transitory or permanent.

Mental states induce attitudes of the body, and bodily attitudes induce corresponding mental states. An actor who can identify himself fully with the personality whose part he plays need not study attitudes to appear natural; an angry person who forces himself to smile, will lessen his anger; a person who constantly has scowl on his face will get a scowl on his soul. It is perhaps for similar reasons that certain attitudes are prescribed in certain religious ceremonies and acts of devotion.

The whole of the Cosmos is alive. The Universal Mind, the aggregate of all minds acts through the sensorium of the Akasa upon the world of effects. It has its centres of intelligence, represented by god-like planetary beings, its currents of thought and its centres of activity and seats of emotions, its currents of electricity and its workshops of elemental forces. Ideas are evolved by the imagination of nature and crystallise into forms of matter.

Man’s ideas are not arbitrary creations, but results of previous mental states. No man ever had an original thought; he can only perceive, grasp and modify that which exists. The ideation of the Cosmos is neither new or original but the result of cosmic evolution. In the beginning of each new “day of creation” when “the morning-stars sing together for joy,’’ Nature springs again from the bosom of God, and the results of her previous solution produce effects which cause the existence of forms in a still higher perfection. Seen from the standpoint of our finite minds, progress seems endless and the effects of the past are the causes of the future. Seen from the stand-point of the Eternal there is neither past nor future, and nothing exists but the ineffable name whose letters are written in Nature. A. B.

Notes:

^[1] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. I. Freedom. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 5, no. 8 (May 1884), 189-191. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[2] There are exceptional cases (of black magicians): in which a still higher degree of “individual” isolation is reached by an imprisonment of a part of the sixth principle in the lower ones; but such a condition, although long enduring, is not permanent, and as in such cases the seventh principle is entirely absent, they do not come within the limits of our present consideration.

^[3] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. II. The Power of Will. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 5, no. 9 (June 1884), 214-216. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[4] Religio Philosophical Journal.

^[5] Professor W. A. Hammond, “A Treatise on Insanity.”

^[6] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. III. Development of Will. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 5, no. 10 (July 1884), 240-242. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[7] See the story of “The Silver Hatchet” in the present number.

^[8] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. IV. Knowledge. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 5, no. 11 (August 1884), 264-266. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[0] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. V. Forbidden Fruit. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 5, no. 12 (September 1884), 291-293. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[10] See Review of “Posthumous Humanity” in the preceding number.

^[11] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. VI. Imagination. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 6, no. 1 (October 1884), 6-8. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[12] Sir John Lubbock, “British Association Proceedings.”

^[13] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. VII. [VIII.] The Real and the Unreal. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 6, no. 3 (December 1884), 54-57. {This article is actually VIII in the series. VII was mislabelled. This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[14] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. IX. Man. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 6, no. 4 (January 1885), 83-84. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[15] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. X. The Two-fold Action of the Law of Karma on the Various Planes. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 6, no. 5 (February 1885), 113-116. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[16] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. [XI.] Consciousness. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 6, no. 6 (March 1885), 144-145. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2020}

^[17] H. Zschokke. “Verklaerüngen.” (Transfigurations).

^[18] Practical Instructions for Students of Occultism. [XII.] Ideation. An American Buddhist [Franz Hartmann, M.D.] The Theosophist 6, no. 7 (Apr. 1885), 157-159. {This article was reformatted from the original, but with the content unchanged other than fixing minor typos, by Robert Hutwohl, ©2024}

^[19] Report of the Society for Psychical Research. London, 1884.

^[20] Professor Denton. Soul of Things.

^[21] W. F. Evans. Mental Cure.

^[22] Emma Hardinge-Britten. Ghost-land.

^[23] Justinus Kerner. Seeress of Prevorst.

^[24] David Low, F. R. S. E.—Simple bodies in Chemistry.

^[25] {R.H.—Latin = Bodies do not act unless they are fluid}