part in the responsibility for the action. Under-

standing that, and taking this wider view of life, he would begin to be very careful about his thoughts, he would begin to realise that he must control his thoughts, and this goes beyond the view which was taken by our man of the world ; further, as he understands that he must control his thoughts and is responsible for his thoughts, as he begins to realise that not only is he responsible for these thoughts, and therefore must have some choice as to the kind of thoughts that he generates, he also finds if he studies a little further that the kind of thoughts that he attracts to himself from the outer world will be very largely determined by the nature of the thoughts that he himself generates. So that he is not only a magnet sending out lines of thought-force over the area of his magnetic field, but he is also a magnet attracting towards himself the substances which answer to the magnetic force
Thought Control. 5 3
that he sends out ; whether then his mind be full of good thoughts or of base thoughts will very largely depend upon the lines along which his own mental force is exercised, and he will begin to understand that in generating a good thought he is not only discharging his supreme duty to his fellows, but that — as ever happens when man is in harmony with the Divine Law — he himself is gain- ing by that which he gives ; in each case in which he gives to the world a noble thought, he has set up in himself an attractive centre to which other noble thoughts will come of their own accord, drawn, as it were, by magnetic affinity, so that his own mind will be helped and strengthened by these thoughts that flow into it from without. He recognises also with pain and shame that when he sends out into the world a foul thought he has made in his own consciousness a similar centre, which will attract the baser thoughts in the atmos- phere, and so increase his own tendencies towards evil as the others increase his tendencies towards good. And as he learns to understand this mental brotherhood which binds all men together, you will realise that he will change his mental attitude, that he will feel this responsibility of giving out and of taking in, that he will recognise these ties that stretch out in every direction from him and also
54 I>i the Outer Court.
stretch out from every direction towards him; that he in his daily hfe will begin to deal more with thought than he will with action, and to understand that in that region of the invisible there are generated all the forces which come down into the psychic and the physical life.
But there is a step further when he comes within the Outer Court. He is now a candidate — as you will remember from what we said last week — he is now a candidate to enter on that steeper and shorter Path leading upwards, nay, he is on the probationary stage of that Path itself. Something more then will come to him than this recognition, that we have seen belongs to the man who is begin- ning to understand something of the nature of the life around him. And this candidate, who has stepped across the threshold of the Outer Court, finds that he recognises something that is behind the mind, something which is greater than the mind, something to which the mind bears a relation which has an analogy to the relation which is borne to the mind itself by the lower desire-nature ; that just as in the course of growth a man recognises the mind above the desires, so when he has stepped across the threshold, and even before he takes that step — for it is the recognition of this fact which leads to the gateway and partly opens that gateway to him
Thought Control. 55
— he realises that this mind which seemed so great, this mind which seemed so mighty, which seemed to him in the days that he but a httle way behind to be the ruler of the world and its monarch, that mind of which it was said by a thinker that " there is nothing great in the Universe but man, and there is nothing great in man but mind," that all this comes from a view that is taken from below with a sight that is blinded, and that when the sight begins to clear itself it is seen that there is some- thing greater in this Universe than this mind which seemed to be the greatest thing in man — something which is sublimer, something which is vaster, some- thing which only shines out for a moment, and then again is veiled. He recognises dimly, poorly, not yet by knowledge but by hearsay, that he has caught a glimpse of the Soul, that to him a ray of light has come downwards into the mind from something that is above it, and yet that he dimly seems to feel in some strange sense is itself, is identical with it. So that at first there will be a confusion and a groping in the darkness, between this which seems to be himself although he had thought he himself was mind, and yet which seems so much greater than the mind. So that it seems to be himself, and yet greater than he, and he knows not at first whence this gleam may come,
56 In the Outer Court.
and whether the hope that it raised in him is a dream and nothing more.
But before we can deal with the facts clearly at all, we must try to see what we mean by these words " Mind " and " Soul," what we mean when we speak of " Consciousness " ; for these words, if we are to understand, must not for us be counters to play with, but real coins that represent some- thing that we have of mental wealth, of ideas. So let us take these words for a moment and see what is meant by them, or at least what I will mean by them in using them, so that what I say will be clear, whether you agree with the definitions or not. I define the Soul as that which individualises the Universal Spirit, which focuses the Universal Light into a single point ; which is, as it were, a receptacle into which is poured the Spirit ; so that that which in Itself is universal, poured into this receptacle appears as separate, identical in its essence always but separated now in its manifestation ; the pur- pose of this separation being that an individual may develop and grow ; that there may be an individualised life potent on every plane in the Universe ; that it may know on the physical and on the psychical planes as it knows on the spiritual, and have no break in consciousness of any kind ; that it may make for itself the vehicles that it needs
Thought Coitrol. 57
for acquiring consciousness beyond its own plane, and then may gradually purify them one by one until they no longer act as blinds or as hindrances, but as pure and translucent media through which all knowledge on every plane may come. But in using the word or image " receptacle " I may mis- lead you ; and here is the difficulty with all expres- sions fitted for intellectual thinking ; that if one takes an image which on one point is applicable we find it on another misleading. For this process of individualisation is by no means the making of a receptacle and the pouring of something into it, so that at once that which is poured into it takes definite outline and shape, moulded into the shape of the vessel. What happens is more analogous to the way in which some great system, some Solar System say, is formed ; if you throw your imagina- tion backwards in time, you might imagine space in which nothing is visible ; and you might then imagine that in that space — where there seemed to be emptiness, but where there is really all fulness, only fulness invisible to the eye — that in that space there comes a slight mist, too delicate almost to be called a mist at all, and yet that is the nearest word that would explain this beginning of aggregation ; and then as you watch it, the mist grows denser and denser, and denser and denser as the time goes on,
5 8 In the Outer Court.
aggregating more and more closely together and becoming more separated from the space around it ; till that which seemed but the faintest of shadows begins to take to itself a shape, becoming more and more definite as it proceeds, until if you were watching this building of the worlds, you would see the nebula become denser and denser, and separating itself off more definitely in space, until a system was formed with a central sun and planets all around it. And so it seems, however blunderingly put, is this coming of Spirit into individualisation ; it is like the faint appearance of a shadow in the universal void which is the fullest of all fulnesses, and then this shadow becomes a mist, and then it takes to itself clearer and clearer form, becoming more and more definite as evolution proceeds, until there is an individual, a Soul, where at hrst there was only the faintest shadow of a growing mist : such is the process (in picture) of this forming of the individual consciousness. And if you can take that thought of it for the moment, you will perchance realise how it is that the Soul is formed in the long course of evolution, and that this Soul is not a thing complete at first, plunging down like a diver into the ocean of matter, but is slowly, slowly buildcd, or densified, if I may still use the image, until out of the Universal it becomes
TJiought Control. 59
the individual, and an individual that is ever grow- ing as its evolution proceeds. That Soul lasts, as we know, from life to life through endless years, through countless centuries. It is the growing individual, and its consciousness is the conscious- ness of all that lies behind it in the process of its growth. The Soul is that entity, growing mighty to-day in some of the Sons of Men ; it has behind it a storied past ever present to this consciousness which has grown so wide during its treading of the long path over which it has travelled ; it has this vast consciousness, taking all its lives into itself and realising all its past. And then as each new birth comes, and new experience has to be gathered, this Soul which has been growing through the ages casts out into new vestures a part of itself, to gather for it new experience ; and this part of itself which is flowing outwards on to the lower planes that there it may increase the knowledge out of which the Soul is to grow still greater, this part of itself flowing outwards is what we call the Mind in man ; it is the part of the Soul that is working in the brain, confined in the brain, sorely fettered by the brain, with what is literally the burden of the flesh upon it, making its consciousness dimmer, for it cannot pierce through this thicker veil of matter ; all that greatness that we know as the Mind is only this
6o In the Outer Court.
struggling part of the Soul, working in this brain for purposes of the Soul's growth. And as it works in it, it shows out the powers of the Soul, for it is the Soul itself, although clothed in this limita- tion of matter, and as much of the Soul as can manifest through that brain is the mind of the person that we know, and sometimes much will manifest and sometimes little, according to the state of evolution which has been reached. But what the man in the Outer Court understands is that it is this Soul which is himself, and that the mind is only its passing manifestation. And then he begins to understand that just as the body and the desire-nature are to be subject to the mind, which is part of the Soul in prison, so that mind itself is to be subject to the great Soul of which it is only the projected representative of the moment ; that it is only an instrument, only an organ of the Soul, manifested for the sake of the work it performs, and for that which it has to gather and to draw back into the Soul, which is itself.
Realising that, then, what will be the position of our candidate 't The mind learns ; as this mind comes into contact with the outer world, it gathers together facts, it arranges them, it tabulates them, it forms its judgments on them, and carries on all the re^t of its intellectual processes ; the result of
TliflugJU Control. 6l
this activity passes upwards, passes along this expansion of the Soul upwards into the Soul itself — or rather inwards ; it is this which the Soul takes with it into Devachan, and there works upon it all to change it into wisdom. For wisdom is very different from learning. Learning is all that mass of facts, and of judgments on the facts, and of conclusions drawn therefrom ; wisdom is the e^ctracted essence of the whole, that which the Soul has gathered out of all these experiences, and it is, as you are aware, its work in Devachan to turn these experiences into wisdom. But our candidate, who knows all this, will realise that it is this Soul which is " I " ; the Soul which has come through all these past lives and has been building itself in the coming, that is the " I " that is liimself, so far as he yet can see. And then he begins to under- stand why it is said that at the very outset he has to distinguish between the " I " that endures and this mind which is only a passing manifestation of the " I ". Mind is the Soul's manifestation in the world of matter, it is manifested there in order that it may work for the purposes of the Soul ; and then he may begin to realise why it is that when the pupil sends out to the Master his first cry for teaching, when having found his way into the Outer Court, he cries : " O Teacher, what shall I do to
62 In the Outer Court.
reach to wisdom ? O Wise One, what, to gain perfection ? " — those words that sound strange at first come from the hps of the Wise One : " Search for the Paths. But, O Lanoo, be of clean heart before thou startest on thy journey. Before thou takest thy first step, learn to discern the real from the false, the ever-fleeting from the everlasting." * And then the Teacher goes on to explain the difference between learning and wisdom — what is ignorance, what is knowledge, and what is the wisdom that succeeds them both. And the dis- tinction is drawn between the mind — the mind that is " like a mirror ; it gathers dust while it reflects " ; the mind that needs the " breezes of Soul-wisdom to brush away the dust of our illusions." And on those words the candidate, if he be wise, reflects. What is this difference between the real and the fleeting, and why is it connected with the mani- festation of the mind ? What is this difference between the mirror that reflects and the Soul that needs to dust the mirror if illusion is to be gotten rid of .'' For what part can it be which this mind plays, which seems so mighty a function in man that it stood as the man himself in the lower world ^ What is its function after all if the first step upon the Path is to distinguish what is illusory
*Vvii-e of the Silence (Lotus Leaf Edition), pp. 34, 35.
Thought Coiitrol. 63
from what is real, and the mind in some subtle fashion is connected with the making of the illu- sion ? And there are other words which he remembers he has heard as coming also from the lips of these Masters of Wisdom. He remembers a strange word that came which spoke of the Rajah of the senses, ruler and king of the lower nature, but no friend of the disciple ; he remembers that — in those very words where this R^jah of the senses is spoken of, at the outset of the teaching — he remembers that he was bidden to seek out that Rajah of the senses so as to understand him, for he is " the Thought-Producer, he who awakes illu- sion " ; and the disciple is told that the " mind is the great sla)'er of the Real. Let the disciple slay the slayer." * Here then we seem to be on the track of some thought that will be illuminative to the candidate who is to seek out the R^jah of the senses ; that Rajah, or king, of the senses is the thought-producer, and he who produces thought is he who awakes illusion, it is he who slays the Real. For in the Spirit-World there is Reality ; as the process of differentiation proceeds, illusion is pro- duced, and it is this mind, this growing mind, that makes the illusion. It is this growing mind that has endless images and pictures, that has the image-
• Voice of the Silence, p. 13.
64 In the Outer Court.
making faculty which we speak of as imagination, that has the reasoning faculty which builds on the airy picture that it has made — it is this which is the real creator of illusion, it is this which slays the Real, so far as the disciple is concerned, and his first work as disciple will be to slay the slayer. For unless he can get rid of this illusive power of the mind, he will never be able to penetrate beyond the Outer Court. And then listening still to the Teacher, he hears a voice which bids him seek to blend his Mind and Soul* His work then will be to make some change in this lower mind which shall make it capable of blending with the higher, some destruction of its illusory power which shall enable it to know its own parent from whom it comes, that the Father and the Son may once more become one.
And then he hears a teaching which in mystic language says to him that he must destroy the lunar body, that he must cleanse the mind-body ; t and studying that, and striving to understand what it means, he learns from many an allegory and from many a symbol, now becoming familiar to him in his lessons, he learns that what is called the lunar body is that body which belongs to Kama or Desire, that which is spoken of as the astral man ;
* Ibid., p. 36. -^ Ibid, p. 22.
Thought Coutrol. 65
and he learns that that is to be destroyed, and that the mind-body is to be cleansed. " Cleanse thy mind-body," the Teacher tells him, for only by cleansing away the dust of illusion will it be possible for that mind-body to re-enter itself, will it be possible for it to be blended with its Soul. And now he begins to understand the work that lies before him in the Outer Court with regard to this mind. He begins to realise that he himself, this living Soul that has been climbing through the centuries, has been putting out this force of itself in order to create an instrument for its own use, a servant which is to be controlled ; that instead of the mind being master, the mind is to be an obedient slave, instrument in the hand that holds it, servant to him who sent it forth ; and as that grows upon him, the nature of his task unfolds itself before him and he begins to train his mind. And in seeking to do this at first he will have to begin with very simple matters ; he will find that this mind is always running about from one thing to another, hard to control and difficult to curb, cLS Arjuna found it five thousand years ago, restless and uneasy, turbulent and difficult to restrain ; and he will begin at first by training it, as you would train a steed that you are breaking in for your riding, to go dehnitcly along the road that you
E
66 In the Outer Court.
choose, not leaping over hedge and ditch, and racing across country in every direction, but going along the road that is chosen by the rider, along that and along no other. And so this candidate of ours in his daily life — for he has to work out all this in the life of the world — will gradually, as he works, train his mind in thinking consecutively and think- ing definitely, and he will not permit himself to be led astray by all the manifold temptations around him, to the scattering of thought in every direction. He will refuse to scatter thought ; he will insist that it shall pursue a definite path ; he will decline to take all his knowledge in scraps, as though he had no power of following a sustained argument ; he will put aside the endless temptations that surround him in this superficial age and time ; he will read by choice and by deliberate motive — for it is here that the thought of the candidate is trained — he will read with deliberate motive sustained argu- ments, long lines of argument which train the mind in going along one definite line for a considerable period, and he will not permit it to leap from one thing to another rapidly, thus intensifying the rest- lessness which is an obstacle in his path, and which will block his way utterly until it is overcome.
And thus daily, and month by month, and year by year, he will work at his mind, training it in
Thought Control 67
these consecutive habits of thought, and he will learn to choose that of which he thinks ; he will no longer allow thoughts to come and go ; he will no longer permit a thought to grip him and hold him ; he will no longer let a thought come into the mind and fix itself there and decline to be evicted ; he will be master within his own house. He may have troubles in his daily life ; it matters not ; they will help him in this- training of the mind. And when these troubles are very pressing, when these anxieties are very trying, when he finds himself inclined to look forwards and to worry over the troubles that are coming to him a few days, or a few weeks, or a few months hence, he will say : " No ; no such anxiety shall remain within my mind ; no such thought shall have shelter within my mind ; within this mind nothing stays that is not there by my choice and my invitation, and that which comes uninvited shall be turned outside the limits of my mind." People lie awake at night, filled with anxious thoughts, people are half killing themselves not by their troubles, but by the worries that those troubles cause within the mind ; all that kind of thing will be put an end to by the candidate, for he will refuse to permit any action which is not by his own consent, and he will shut and lock the doors of the mind against all these thoughts that
68 In tJie Outer Court.
press in thither uninvited ; this will be a definite training, a difficult and a long training, for the thoughts break in and he has to turn them out. And over and over and over again he must do it, and there is no way in which it can be done save by taking such a thought, whenever it comes in, and as often as it comes in, and deliberately, declining to give it harbourage. You will say, " How ? " Probably at first most easily by giving the mind something else to think about ; later on by simply refusing to admit it. But until the candidate has grown strong enough thus to shut and lock the doors of his mind and remain therein undisturbed, he may do wisely to substitute one thought for another, and always to substitute some high thought which deals with the permanent for the thought he wants to get rid of, which deals with the transitory. For then it will serve the double purpose, not only of getting rid of the transitory thought, but also of habituating the mind to rest in the eternal, and to gain that sense of proportion, that sense that the present is passing, and therefore is not worth troubling about ; on the side of the permanent, it will strengthen that dwelling of the mind in the eternal, which is the secret of all peace in this world, or in any other.
And as he trains his mind in this way, and as
ThongJit Control. 69
gradually he gains power over it, and is able to make it think of the thing that he chooses and to refrain from thinking of that which he does not choose, he will take a further step more difficult than either of these, and he will withdraw himself from the mind and think not in the mind at all ; not because he is going to become unconscious, but because he is seeking a deeper consciousness ; not because the life in him is dulling or becoming lethargic, but because it has become so vivid that the brain is no longer able to contain it ; and with this growth of the inner life, with this increase of the life-energy that flows from the Soul, he will slowly find that it is possible to reach a stage where " thought " will no longer be the thought of the mind, but the consciousness in the Soul ; long ere he will find that consciousness and realise it, as it were unbrokenly, he will have to pass through the stage of blankness, of emptiness, of void — one of the most trying stages, perchance, of this life of our candidate in the Outer Court ; and then he will dimly begin to understand the meaning which is breathed in the words of the Teacher : " Restrain by thy Divine thy lower self ; restrain by the Eternal the Divine."* The Divine Self is this Soul which is to restrain the lower mind , but then
* \\i e of the Siknce, p. 4y.
70 l7i the Outer Court,
beyond the Soul is the Eternal, and, in some future that lies within the Temple, that Eternal is to restrain the Divine in him, even as the Divine restrains the lower self. And then he gradually and slowly learns that he is to be master of every- thing that is around him, with which mind-tliought is connected in any way ; that he will come to one of the stages in this Outer Court where subtle temptations will be flocking around him, tempta- tions that do not touch the lower nature, but that dare to raise themselves against the higher, and that strive to use the mind for the destruction of the disciple, having failed to use the desire-nature or the grosser temptations of the body. And then come those subtle temptations that ensnare the inner man, those thronging crowds of temptations that come round him as he is rising upwards along his difficult path, temptations of the thought-world thronging round him from every side ; he must have gained utter control over the mental images he himself has created ere he will be able to hold his own unshaken, serene, unruffled, amid all these hosts of hurrying thoughts that are now coming to him, vitalised and strengthened no longer by the feeble minds of men in the lower world, but with a tremendous impulse which has in it something of the nature of the forces of the spiritual plane — from
ThoiigJit Control. 71
the dark side and not from the white, from those who would fain slay the Soul, and not from those who would help it. And in the Outer Court he finds himself face to face with these, and they rush on him with the energy that comes from those mighty forces for evil ; and if he have not learned and have not trained himself to be master within the limits of the mind against the puny attacks that meet him in the outer world, how then shall he hold his own against these hosts of Mara, the Evil One ? How shall he cross that fourth stage in the Outer Court, round which these enemies of the Soul are clustering, and which refuse that any shall go through who is not absolutely at peace ? And then there comes this strength which grows out of the fixity of the mind, the mind which now has grown so strong that it can fix itself on what it will, and stay there unshaken, no matter what whirlwind may be going on around ; a fixity so great, so steady, that nothing that is without can avail to shake it at all, which has grown so strong that it does not need effort any longer, that it does not need to slay any more, for it has gone beyond the stage where such effort is necessary ; the stronger the Soul, the less of effort in its working ; the mightier the power, the less it feels assaults that come to it from without.
72 hi the Outer Court.
Then that great stage of the mind is reached when, instead of being slain, thoughts fall dead of themselves when they reach the shrine ; no longer need the mind slay, no longer need itself be slain ; it has become cleansed, pm-e and obedient. And the result of that which is the beginning of the blending of the Mind and of the Soul is that the moment anything alien strikes against it, it falls dead of its own impulsion ; there is no longer need to strike, for all that needs to be struck at falls dead by the throwing back of its own blow ; and this is that fixity of the mind of which it is written that the lamp is placed in a steady spot where no wind can cause it to flicker. It is in that place of rest where the will is beginning to be realised ; it is there that there is absolute peace ; it is a spot under the shadow of the Temple walls ; and it is of that that it is written in an ancient Scripture that when a man is free from desire, when he is free from grief, it is then in the tranquillity of the senses that he beholds the majesty of the Soul ; * then he sees indeed for the first time, no longer by broken gleam, by ray that comes and goes, but in this absolute peace and serenity where there is no desire and no ruffling of grief ; there the majesty of the Soul shines out unbroken, and the mind
♦ Kaihopaniihad, ii., 20.
Thought Control 73
now a mirror which is polished, reflects it back as it really is. For this mind, that in the early days was a dust-covered mirror, this mind, that was as the lake ruffled by the winds that blow from every side, has become as the polished mirror that reflects perfectly ; it has become as the lake which gives back everything in mountain and in sky, the trees to the trees, the stars to the stars, and which has every shade of colour in the heavens, throwing them back again to the heavens whence they come. But how ? There is a moment of danger ere this, of which the warning voice has spoken ; there is a moment when this spot is almost reached where the lamp will no longer flicker, when the mind and the Soul join for a moment in a last struggle, when the mind becomes as a mad elephant that rages in the jungle; how then shall it be tamed? It is the last struggle of the mind ; it is the final effort of the lower to assert itself against the higher, feeling the bonds that are upon it — that rising up of the lower nature of which every book of Initiation has spoken. For it has been written in every book that speaks of the Hidden Wisdom that, as the candidate approaches the gateway, ere he passes into the Temple, all the powers of Nature rise up against him to drag him
74 I^^ iJi^ Outer Court.
down ; every power that is in the world comes out against him ; it is the last struggle to be passed through ere the conquest is complete. On higher planes yet there is a struggle of which this is the reflection ; on planes so high that we cannot image them, whereto the greatest of the great have found their way ; and that is symbolised in the last struggle of the Buddha beneath the Sacred Tree ; there where came to Him the last illumination that made Him Buddha, all the hosts gathered round for the last struggle to see if still His passage could be blocked ; and though on infmitely lower planes, there is that crucial struggle also in the life that is now the life of the disciple, and that is now coming near the gateway of the Temple.
How shall he conquer in the struggle ? How shall he on his probationary pathway tread in the footsteps of those who have gone before ? And still from the words of the Teacher there comes the help, still from His lips a hint which shall guide us : " It needs," we hear spoken in the silence, " it needs points to draw it towards the Diamond Soul."* What is the Diamond Soul? It is the Soul that has accomplished its union with the true Self ; it is the Soul without spot or flaw in any part, translucent — as the diamond is translucent — to the
• Voice of the Silence, p. 35.
Thought Control. 75
Light of the LOGOS, which it focuses for men ; the mighty Name that just now I spoke, as I might speak other Names that really mean the same although in other tongues, is that of a Soul high above all others to whom belongs this title of the Diamond Soul, through which the Light of the Logos Itself shines down to men, shines down undimmed, so pure is the Diamond, so spotless, so absolutely flawless is that Soul. It is the Soul to which we look at the moments of our highest aspira- tion ; and that which we need to draw us upwards towards It, is only one glimpse of Its beauty, is only one touch from Its fire ; for the Soul grows upwards towards its own as the flower grows towards the light, and the points that draw it upwards are these radiant outshinings from the Diamond Soul, which pour down on that which is Itself, although so weak and hesitating, and draw it upwards with Divine strength to union with Itself. And as the disciple begins to understand, there grows upon him what is meant by the Diamond Soul ; he realises that in himself also that Diamond Soul is to be re-incarnate — " Look inwards ! Thou art Buddha!" — that this mind of his, like this body of his, is but an instrument for Its service, and is only useful and precious as it makes music worthy to reach the higher. And then by devotion these
76 In the Outer Court.
strings of the mind are tuned, are utterly subdued to the Soul ; the Soul tunes them by the power of devotion, and then it becomes an instrument of music fit for the IVIaster's touch ; then it becomes an instrument of music from which all melodies in heaven and in earth may sound ; and at last the disciple stands before the gateway and realises that what has happened is this : that he himself has found Himself; that the Soul that is Himself is looking upwards to One yet higher with whom it is now going to blend and to become one ; the further union takes place only within the Temple ; standing at the gateway he has only united Himself eternal to his self that was perishable — Himself the Soul to himself that was mind. And then he begins the worship which means identification with the highest ; then he learns that in his daily life the Soul can always be worshipping, no matter what the mind may do, and in what the body may be active ; he realises at last that the life of the disciple is absolutely unbroken worship of the Highest, con- templation that never ceases of the Diamond Soul, contemplation of the Supreme which knows no break ; that' while the Soul is ever thus busied in the Court of the Temple, the body and the mind will be at work for the humanity that needs them, in the Outer Court, and beyond it in the world ;
Thought Control. 77
that this body can be ever active working for men, that this mind may be ever busy working for men ; they are instruments while the man is hving, they are his messengers and his workers while himself is worshipping. And then he realises what it means that " in heaven their Angels always behold the face of the Father," for the vision of the Father- Soul is an unbroken vision, no cloud of earth may dim it, no work on earth may mar it ; ever the Soul is beholding, while the mind and the body are labouring, and when that is achieved the threshold is being crossed, and from the Outer Court the Soul is entering into the Temple of its Lord.
i
BUILDING OF CHARACTER
LFXTURE III.
Building of Character.
In beginning this third lecture of the course, I want as a preHininary step to repeat the warning that I gave you in the first lecture, with regard to the qualifications with which I am dealing, and the line of thought and of action which will be followed by those who are in the position that I have called " In the Outer Court." You will remember that I said to you that the position of an aspirant who had reached that Court was very different from the position even of tlie good and virtuous and religious man, who had not thoroughly seen the goal which was before him, who had not thoroughly realised the magnitude of his task. And I want again to remind you that in the whole of this, in which I am sketching the qualifications of those who come into the Court, I am dealing with everything from this standpoint of a deliberate self-training towards an aim that is defmitely recognised ; and more than that, that I by no means mean in speaking of these F J>i
82 /// the Outer Court.
qualifications that they are completely achieved while the aspirant still remains in the Outer Court of the Temple. He begins, as it were, the making of the character, he realises to some extent what he ought to be, and he strives more or less effectively to become that which he aspires to achieve. It is not that the definite purification, or the complete control of the thoughts, or the perfect building of the character, or the entire transmutation of the lower into the higher — it is not that all these must be accomplished ere he can stand on the threshold of the Temple ; he is really employed whilst in the Outer Court in drawing as it were the foundations of his buildings, in sketching out carefully and fairly fully the outlines of that edifice which he hopes to carry to perfection. The working out of all these lines, the building on this foundation, the raising of the walls higher and higher, the placing of the crowning stone finally upon the work — that is done rather within the Temple than without it, after the eyes liave been opened, not while they are still partially blinded and the aspirant is in the Outer Court. But what I do want you to under- stand is that the plan is sketched, that the plan is recognised ; that nothing less than this — very much more may come in the course of the ages — that nothing less than this is the goal that the candidate
The Buildiug of Character. 83
sets before himself for the reaching; so lh;it however great may seem the aspirations, however magnificent may seem the outUne which is to be filled in, that outline is to be definitely recognised in the Outer Court, although not to be filled in in detail, and however lowly may be the achievements of the present they are none the less the definite foundations on which the glorious achievements of the future are to be based. And I say this thus explicitly, although it be a repetition, because it was suggested to me that in making so wide a scope for the Outer Court, in tracing so vast an outline, it might come on some of my hearers with a sense of discouragement if not of despair ; so that it is well that all should understand that while the beginnings are traced they may still be only the beginnings, and that after the threshold is crossed, there are still many lives in front in which these beginnings may be carried to fulfilment, and this plan of the architect serves as basis for the finished edifice. Taking then that as a thing to be under- stood, let me remind you of the building of the character, which is to be a distinct and a positive building which this candidate in the Outer Court will set before himself ; we have seen already that he is to have been in past lives a virtuous and a religious man, that is, that he will have already
84 In the Outer Court.
realised tliat nothing of absolute vice must have its place In him, that nothing of evil must be permitted to remain ; that if any seed of vice remain, it must at once be flung without, that if any tendencies towards positive evil are still there, they must be completely and entirely rooted out. Here in this Court there can be at least no com- promise v/ith evil, here there can be at least no paltering with that which is not right and pure and good. While there may still be failures in the achievement of the right, there is most definitely no contented remaining in the wrong ; that has had the back of the aspirant definitely turned upon it, and all the grosser part of the nature will already have been eliminated, all the rougher part of the inner struggle will have been finished. Into the Court of the Temple utterly unhewn stones cannot be brought for the building ; the hewing must have been going on during many previous lives, much work must have been done upon the characters before they become fit to be built at all even in the Outer Court of such a Temple. And this rough-hewing of the character is supposed to lie behind us ; we are dealing with the building of the positive virtues, and virtues of an exceedingly high and noble type ; virtues which are not those simply that are recognised as necessar\- in the world,
The Building of Character. 85
but far rather those which the aspirant desires to achieve in order that he may become one of the Helpers and the Saviours of the world, those characteristics that go to make up one of the world's Redeemers, one of the pioneers of the first-fruits of mankind.
The first thing perhaps that will strike us, in tliis building of character by one who is in the Outer Court, is its exceedingly deliberate nature. It is not a thing of fits and starts, it is not a casual building and leaving off, it is not an effort in this direction one day and in another direction to-morrow, it is not a running about seeking for aims, it is not a turning about looking for a purpose ; the whole of this at least is definitely done, the purpose is recognised and the aim is known. And the building is a deliberate building, as by one who knows that he has time, and that nothing in Nature can be lost ; a deliberate building which begins with the materials ready to hand, which begins with the character as it is recognised to exist, which looks, as we shall see, quietly at all its strength and at all its weaknesses, and sets to work to improve the one and to remedy the other ; a deliberate building towards a definite aim, a carving in permanent material of a statue of which the mould has already been made.
86 In the Outer Court.
And so the first thing that will be noticed in these candidates in the Outer Court is this definiteness of purpose and this deliberateness of action. The man knows that he will carry everything on that he makes ; that from life to life he will take with him the treasures that he has accumulated ; that if he finds a deficiency and only partly fills it up, still it is filled up to that extent, that part of the work is done ; that if he makes for himself a power, that power is his for evermore, a part of the Soul never to be taken away from it, woven into tlie texture of the individual, not again ever to be separated from him. And he builds with this deliberate purpose which has its root in knowledge, recognising the Law that underlies every aspect of Nature. Realising that that Law is changeless, knowing that he may trust it with uttermost and completest faith, he calls upon the Law and knov/s that the Law will answer, he appeals to the Law and is confident that the Law will judge. There is in him then no trace of wavering, no shadow of doubting ; he gives out that which must needs bring to him his har\est, and every seed that he sows, he sows with this absolute certainty that the seed will bear fruit after its kind, that that and none other will come back to him in future days. So there is naught of hurry in his work, naught of impatience in his
Tlie Building of Character. 87
labour ; if the fruit be not ripe, he can wait for the gathering ; if the seeds be not ready, he can wait for the growing. He knows that this Law to which he has given himself is at once changeless and good ; that the Law will bring all in its appointed time, and that the appointed time is best for him and for the world. And so, as I said, he starts with his available material, content with it because it is what the Law brings him from his past ; content with it because it is that with which he has to wojk, that and nothing else ; and whether full or scanty, whether poor and small or rich and great, he takes it and begins to work with it, know- ing that however scanty it be there is no limit to the wealth to which it may be increased, and knowing that however small it may bulk to-day, there is no limit to the vastness to which it may grow in the years which lie in front. He knows that he must succeed ; not a question of pos.sibiiity but of certitude, not a question of chance but of definite reality. The Law must give back the equivalent of that which he gives, and even if he give but little, that little will come back to him, and from that he will build in the future, addin^r alwavs something to the store, standing a little higher with each achievement, with each new accomplishment.
88 /// the Outer Court.
Already we know something of the way in which he will build ; we know that he will begin with right thought ; and we studied last week this control of the thoughts, which is necessary in order that the right may be chosen, and the wrong may be rejected ; working steadily at that thought control and knowing its conditions, understanding the laws by which thoughts are generated and by which thoughts act in the world and react upon their generator, he is now in a condition definitely to choose right thought for the building of his character. And this stage of right thinking will be one of the early steps that he will take while he is traversing the Outer Court. First of all because his right thinking affects others — and all those who are thus candidates for the Temple have their primary motive in the service of others — so that, in the choosing of his thought, in the selection of the tlioughts that he either generates or permits to come within his consciousness, his first motive for such choice will be the effect that these thourlits will have upon others, not in the first place the effect they will have upon himself ; far above and beyond all else he is qualifying for service, and therefore as he chooses the thoughts to which he will bend his energy, he calculates their action on the outer world — how far they will work for helping, how far
The Building of Character. 89
they will work for strengthening, how far they will work for purifying ; and into the great stream of thoughts that he knows must go out from his con- sciousness, understanding how that stream is working, he will send the thoughts that are useful to others, with the deliberate purpose of this serving, with the deliberate object of this helping of the world.
And next he will consider the nature of the thoughts as they affect himself, as they react upon him to make his character, a thing that in a few moments we shall see is of the most vital importance, for here indeed is the instrument by which the character will be built ; and not only as they react upon his character, but also as, in making that character, they turn it into a magnet for other thoughts, so that he, acting as a focus for high and noble thoughts — not now, we may hope, for thoughts that are actively injurious — will deliberately make his consciousness a magnet for everything that is good, so that all that is evil may die as it strikes against him, as we saw last week, and all that is good may flow into his consciousness to gain there fresh nourishment, to gain there fresh strength and fresh energy ; that the good thoughts of others coming to him may go out with new lifcimpulsc given to them, and that he
90 In the Outer Court.
may act not only as a source of help by the thoughts he generates, but as a channel of helping by the thoughts that he receives, that he revivifies, and that he transmits. And these will go to the making of character, so tiiat at the beginning of the building this right thinking will be one dominant influence in his mind, and he will constantly be watching his thoughts, scrutinising them with the most jealous care, in order that into this sanctuary of the con- sciousness nothing may come which will offend, for unless this be guarded all else is left open to the enemy. It is the very citadel of the castle ; at the same time it is the gateway through which every- thing enters in.
And then he will learn in this building of character — perhaps he has already learned — to guard his speech ; for right speech, to begin with, must be true, scrupulously and accurately true, not with the commonplace truthfulness of the world, though that be not a thing to be despised, but of that scrupulous and strict truthfulness which is necessary above all to the student of Occultism — truth of observation, truth of recording, truth of thinking, truth of speaking, truth of acting ; for where there is not this seeking after truth and this strenuous determination to become true, there is> no possibility of Occultism which is aught but a
The Building of Character. 91
danger, there is no possibility of anything but fall, deep and terrible, in proportion to the height to which the student may have climbed. For this quality of truth m the Occultist is at once his guide and his shield ; his guide, in that it gives him the insight \vhich enables him to choose the true road from the false, the right-hand path from the left ; and his shield, in that only as he is covered with this shield of truth, can all the delusions and the glamours of the planes through which he passes fall harmless. For it is in the practice of truth in thought, in speech, and in act, that there gradually wakes up that spiritual insight which pierces through every veil of illusion, and against which there can be in Nature no possibility of setting up a successful deception. Everywhere veils are spread, everywhere in the world of illusion this deceitfulness of appearances is to be found, until the spiritual insight can pierce through the whole of them with unchanging and direct vision. There is no such thing as the development of spiritual in-ight, save as truth is followed in the character, as truth is cultivated in the intellect, as truth is developed in the conscience ; without this nothing but failure, without this nothing but inevitable blunder and mistake.
The speech first of all, then, will be true, and
92 In the Outer Court.
next it will be gentle. For truth and gentleness are not in opposition, as too often we are inclined to think, and speech loses nothing of its truth by being perfect in its gentleness and perfect also in its courtesy and its compassion. The more true it is the more gentle it needs must be, for at the very heart of all things is truth and also compassion ; therefore the speech that reflects the innermost essence of the Universe can neither causelessly wound any living being, nor be false with the slightest shadow of suspicion. True and gentle then the speech must be, true and gentle and courteous ; that is said to be the austerity of speech, the true penance and sacrifice of speech which is offered up by every aspirant. And then out of the right speaking and the right thinking, inevitably must flow right acting ; that, as an outcome, must be the result of this flowing forth from the source. For action is only the manifestation of that which is within, and where the thought is pure, where the speech is true and right, there the action must inevitably be noble ; out of such sweet source the water can only be sweet in the flowing, out of the heart and the brain that have been purified necessarily the action must be right and good. And that is the three-fold cord by which the aspirant is bound alike to humanity and to his Master ; the
Tlie Building of Character. 93
three-fold cord which, in some great reh'gions, stands as type of this perfect self-control ; self- control in thought, in speech, and in action — tliat is the triple cord which binds the man to service that is perfect in its character, which binds the disci[jle to the Feet of his Master ; the three-fold cord which may not easily be broken.
When all this is realised, and the beginning of it attempted, this candidate of ours will begin a very definite method of practice in his building of the character, and first he will form what is called an " Ideal ". Let us have clearly in the mind what we mean when we use the word " Ideal." The mind working within itself builds an internal image, which is made as the mind grows in strength out of much that it draws from the outer world ; but although it draws the materials from the outer world, the idea is the result of the internal action of the mind upon the materials. An idea is at its highest an abstract thing, and if we realise how the abstract idea is formed in the mere brain-consciousness, we shall tiien have a very clear view of what is meant by an ideal ; a little enlargement of the idea will give us exactly what we require. Let me take the ancient illustration, an abstract idea of a triangle. The idea of a triangle may be gained at first by the brain- consciousness working in the child through a studv
94 I^' iJte Outer Court.
of many forms which he is told are triangles. He will notice that they are of many different shapes, that they are made up of lines which go in very different directions. He will find — when he looks at them separately and with this brain-consciousness of the child — he will find them exceedingly different, so that looking at them at first he will see them as many figures, and will not recognise certain underlying unities which give them all the same name. But as he goes onward in his thinking he will gradually learn that there are certain definite conceptions which underlie this one conception of the triangle ; that it always has three lines and no more ; that it always has three angles and no more ; that these three angles put together have always a certain definite value, and that the three lines, called the sides of the triangle, bear certain relations to each other, and so on. All these different conceptions he will gain as he studies, and the mind, v/orking upon the whole of these, extracts from them what is called an abstract idea of a triangle, which has no particular size, and no particular shape, and no particular angles taken separately. And this abstract idea is made up by the working of the mind on all the many concrete forms, so far as the brain-consciousness is concerned. What greater idea this may be the reflection of, I
77/ 1' BntlJing of CJiaracter. 95
am not now considering ; but it is thus that in the brain what is called an abstract idea is built, which has neither colour nor shape nor any special characteristic of any one form, and which unites within itself that which makes the many forms of it a unity. And so when we build an ideal it is an idea of this abstract kind, it is the work of the image-building faculty of the mind, which draws out the essence of all the different ideas that it has gained of great virtues — of that which is beautiful, of that which is true, of that which is harmonious, of that which is compassionate, of that which is in every sense satisfying to the aspirations of the mind, of the heart. From all these different ideas, as they have been seen limited in manifestation, the essence is extracted, and then the mind constructs and throws outwards a vast heroic figure in which everything is carried to perfection ; in which everything touches its highest and most complete expression ; in which we no longer deal with the things that are true, but with truth ; no longer with the things which are beautiful, but with beauty ; no longer with the things that are strong, but with strength ; no longer with the things that are tender, but with tenderness ; no longer with the beings who are loving, but with love ; and this perfect figure — mighty and harmonious in all its proportions,
9
grander than anything we have seen, only not grander tlian that which in rare moments of inspira- tion the Spirit has cast downwards into the mind — that ideal of perfection it is which the aspirant makes for himself as perfect as he is able to conceive it, knowing all the time that his most perfect dreaming is but the faintest shadow of the reality whence this reflection has come. For in the world of the Real, there exists in living light that which down here he sees, as it were, in faint reflection of colour, hanging high in the heavens over the snowy mountains of human aspiration ; it is still only the shadow of the Reality whence it has been reflected, all that the human soul may image of the perfect, of the sublime, of the ultimate All that we seek. This ideal he forms is still imperfect, for it must needs be so ! But, however imperfect it may be, none the less for him it is the ideal according to which his cliaracter is to be built.
But why make an ideal .'' Those of you who have gone so far witli me in the working of thought will know why an ideal is necessary. Let me take two sentences, one from a great Hindu scripture and the other from a Christian, to show you how Initiates speak of the same facts, no matter in what tongue they talk, no matter to what civilisation their words may be addressed. It is written in one of the most
The Building of Character. 97
m)-stical of the Upanishads, the Clilidndogya : " Man is a creature of reflection : what he reflects upon, that he becomes ; therefore reflect upon Brahman."* And many thousand \-ears afterwards another great Teacher, one of the builders of Christianity, wrote exactly the same thought put into other words : " But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory."t Beholding as in a glass : for the mind is a mirror and images are cast upon it and are reflected, and the Soul that in the mirror of the mind beholds the glory of the Lord is changed into that same image from glory to glory. So that whether you take the Hindu speaker or the Christian, whether you read the scripture of the Indian or the scripture of the Western Sage, still the same teaching of the Brotherhood comes out to you — that you must have the ideal before you in order that you may reflect it, and that that on which the mind is constantly dwelling will inevitably be that which the man shall become.
And how shall the building towards the ideal be made ? For that is the question that we must now consider. By contemplation : defmitely, with full purpose, choosing his time and not permitting him-
• Op. at., III. \iv. I. t2 Cor. iii. 18.
G
98 In the Outer Couit.
self to be shaken from it, this aspirant who is disciplining his own character will contemplate day by day the ideal that he has builded. He will fix his mind upon it, and constantly reflect it in his consciousness. Day by day he will go over its outline, day by day he will dwell upon it in thouj^lit, and, as he contemplates, inevitably within him will rise up that reverence and that awe which are worship, the great transforming power by which the man becomes that which he adores, and tliis contemplation will essentially be the contemplation of reverence and of aspiration. And as he contemplates, the rays of the Divine Ideal will shine down upon him, and the aspiration upwards will open the windows of the Soul to receive them ; so that they shall illuminate him from within, and then cast a light without, the ideal shining ever above and within him, and marking out the path along which his feet must tread. And in order that he may thus contemplate, he must train himself in concentration ; the mind is not to be scattered, as our minds so often are. We have to learn to fix it, and to fix it steadily, and this is a thing that we should be working at continually, working at in all the common things of life, doing one thing at a time until the mind answers obediently to the impulse, and doing it with the con-
The Building of Charaitcr. 99
ccntrated energy which benris the whole mind towards a single point. No matter that many things that you have to do are trivial ; it is the way of doing them, and not the things that are done, that makes the training which results in discipleship — not the particular kind of work that you have to do in the world, but the way that >'OU do it, the mind that you bring to it, the forces with which you execute it, the training that you gain from it. And it matters not what the life may be. that life will serve for the purpose of the training ; for however trivial may be the particular work in which you are engaged at the moment, you can use it as a training-ground for the mind, and by your concentration you may be making your mind one-pointed, no matter what for the moment may be the point to which it is directed. For remember, when once you have gained the faculty, then you can choose the object ; when once the mind is definitely in your hand, so that you can turn it hither and thither as you will, then you can choose for yourself the end to which it shall be directed. But you may just as well practise and gain the control in little things as in great ; in fact, very much better, because the little things are around us every day, whereas the great things come but seldom. When the great thing comes.
100 /// the Outer Court.
the whole mind arouses itself to meet it ; when the great thing comes, the whole atten- tion is fixed upon it-; when the great thing comes, every energy is called to play upon it, so that you may bear yourself well when the mighty task is to be accomplished. But the real value of the Soul is tested more in the little things where there is nothing to arouse attention, nothing in any sense to gain applause, where the man is deliberately working for the end that he has chosen, and Is using everything around him in order that he may discipline himself. That self-discipline is the key of the whole. Guide your life by some plan ; make to yourself certain rules into which your life shall flow ; and when you have made them, keep to them, and alter them only as deliberately as at first you formed them. Take so simple a thing — for the body has to be brought under control — take so simple a thing as a definite rule of rising in the morning ; fix the time that you feel is best for your work, for your place in your household, and when you have fixed it, keep to it. Do not permit the body at the moment to choose its own time, but train it in that fnstant and automatic obedience which makes it a useful servant of the mind. And if you find after practising for some time that you have chosen badly, then change ; do not be rigid
The Building of Cltaracter 1 01
because \'ou are striving to strcngllicn your will ; be ready to change what does not work well ; but change it at your own time and with perfect deliberation ; do not change it because on the impulse of the moment passion or bodily desire or emotion may be ruling ; do not change it at the demand of tlie lower nature that has to be disciplined, but change it if you find that you have badly chosen. For never in ruling your own life must you make your rule a hindrance to those around you, or choose ways of self-discipline that aggravate or interrupt others instead of simply training yourself.
The next stage, when all this has been clearly recognised as the way in which the character is to be buil3ed, will be to study the character itself ; for you are to work with knowledge and not blindl\'. You will perhaps, if you are wise, in judging your character, take some of the things that great men have put before you as outlining a character which will lead you to the Gate of the Temple. You might take, for instance, such a tracing as is given in the sixteenth discourse in the BJiagavad Gitd hv Shri Krishna to Arjuna, where he is telling Arjuna what should be the qualities which build up the divine character. You might take that as showing you the qualities at wliich you should aim in build-
102 In the Outer Court.
ing yourself, and as marking out for you that which you desire gradually to evolve. And if you take it as it is sketched in the sixteenth discourse, you find a list of qualities, every one of which might well serve as part of your constant thought and endeavour, remembering that the character is built first by the contemplation of the virtue, and then by the working out of that virtue which has become part of the thought into the speech and the action of daily life. And the list runs — however great it is, we have time enough before us to fill it in — " Fearlessness, Purity of Heart, Steadfastness in the Yoga of Wisdom, Almsgiving, Self-restraint and Sacrifice, and Study of the Shastras, Austerity and Straightforwardness, Harmlessness, Truth, Absence of Wrath, Renunciation, Peacefulness, Absence of Calumny, Compassion to Living Beings, Uncovetousness, Mildness, Modesty, Absence of Fickleness, Boldness, Forgiveness, Fortitude, Up- rightness, Amity, Absence of Pride — these become his who is born with the divine qualities." Not are his at once, but become his, and are made in the building of the character. And you will find, if you read these at your leisure and with care, that you can group them together under very definite heads, and that each of these may be practised, at first of course very imperfectly but still steadily, and day
11 le Building of Character. 103
by day — witli never a feeling of discouragement at the lack of achievement, but only with joy in recognition of the goal, and knowing that each step is a step towards an end which shall be achieved. And notice how through them run the golden threads of unselfishness, of love, of harmless- ness ; see how courage and strength and endurance fmd also their place, so that )'Ou get an exquisite balance of character, a character that is at once strong and tender, that is at once self-reliant and compassionate, that is at once a helper of the weak and in itself strong and unmoved, that is full of devotion and full of harmlessness, that is full of self-discipline and therefore of harmony. Let us suppose you accept that to some extent as an ideal for the guidance of daily thinking, and you begin to v^'ork it out ; let us consider a point that is often found in connection with this effort, which is often found in summing up many virtues together, and which is much misunderstood ; pausing a moment upon it, let us see how the building of character towards this virtue will be carried on. It is a name which is strange in English ears : it is indifference ; and sometimes it is worked out in detail as indifference to pleasure and pain, indifference to cold and heat, indifference to blame and applause, indifference to desire
104 I^i t^i^ Outer Court.
and aversion, and so on ; what does it really mean ?
First of all, it means that sense of proportion which must come into the life of one who has gained a ghmpse of the Real amid the fleeting, of the permanent amid the transitory ; for when once tlie greatness of the goal has been recognised, when once the numberless lives have been realised, when once the aspirant has understood all the length of time that lies in front of him, all the vastness of the task that he is going to achieve, all the grandeur of the possibilities that lie still unveiled before him ; when he has caught some glimpse of the Real, then all the things of one fleeting life must take their place in projjortion to the whole. And when a trouble comes, that trouble will no longer bulk so largely as it did when one life was all that he realised, for he will begin to understand that he has been through many troubles before, and has come out the stronger and the more peaceful for the passage. And when joy comes, he will know that he has been through many joys before, and has learned their lessons also, and has found amid other things that they are transitory ; and so when a joy comes or a pain, he will take it, not failing to feel it, feeling it really far more keenly than the ordinary man of the world can feel, but feeling it in
Tlie. Building of Character. 105
its true place and at its true worth, and giving it only its real value in the great scheme of life. So that as he grows in this indifference, it is not that he becomes less capable of feeling, for he is ever becoming more sensitive to every thrill of the world within and of the world without — inasmuch as he has become more harmonious with the All, he must become more responsive to every shade of harmony that is therein — but that none of these may avail to shake him, that none of these may avail to change him, that none of these may touch his serenity, that none of these may cast a shadow on his calm. For he liimself is rooted where storms are not, he himself is grounded where changes have no place, and while he may feel, he can never be altered by them ; they take their right place in life, they bear their proper proportion to the whole span of existence of tlie Soul. That indifference, tliat true and real indifference which means strength, how shall that develop t
First, by this daily thinking on what it means, and working it out bit by bit until you thoroughly understand it, and working out detail after detail, so that you know exactly what you mean by it. And then when you go out into the world of men, by practising it in your daily life ; practising, not by hardening )'ourself but b\' making yourself respon-
loS /// t]ie Outer Court.
And as he is thus building these stones into his character he becomes fearless ; fearless, because hating nothing there is nothing that has power to harm. Injury from without Is but the reaction of aeeression from within ; because we are the enemies of others they in their turn are our enemies, and because we go out into tlie world as injurers, therefore living things injure us in turn. We, who ought to be the lovers of all living things, go out as destroyers, as tyrants, as haters, grasping the world for tyranny and not for education, as though man's work here were not to educate his younger brethren and lead them upwards by all tenderness and all compassion ; we go out and we tyrannise over others, whether they be human or brute, so long as they are weaker than ourselves ; and by their weakness we too often measure our tyranny, and by their helplessness too often the burden that we lay upon them. And then we wonder that living things fly from us — that as we go out into the world we are met with dread from the weak, and with hatred from the strong ; and we know not in our blindness that all the hatred from the outer world is the reflection of the evil that is in ourselves, and that to the heart of love there is nothing that is hateful, and therefore nothing that can injure. The man that has love can walk tmharmed through
The Building of C/iaracter. 1 09
the jungle, can walk untouched tlirouj^h the cave of the carnivorous brute, or take in his hands the serpent ; for there is nothing that has message of hate to the heart that has in it only love, and the love that radiates to the world around us, that draws all things in to serve and not to injure, draws all things in to love and not to hate. And so at the feet of the Yogi the tiger will roll in friendship, and so to the feet of the saint the wildest will bring their young for shelter and for helping, and all living things will come to the man who loves, for they are all the offspring of the Divine, and the Divine is Love, and when that is made perfect in man it draws all things inwards to itself. So then we learn gradually and slowly to walk fearlessly in the world, fearlessly even though things may still injure ; for we know if we are hurt that we are only paying the debt of an evil past, and that for every debt that is paid there is less against us, as it were, in the account book of Nature. And fearless too, because we learn to know, and fear springs from doubt as well as from hatred ; the man \\\vj knows has passed beyond doubt, and walks with foot unfearlng where it may tread, for it treads on solid ground alone, and there are no pitfalls in its way. And out of this grows a firm and unshaken will, a will that is based on knowledge, and a will
1 10 In the Outer Court.
that grows confident through love. And as the aspirant is crossing the Court of the Outer Temple, his step becomes firmer, and his course becomes more direct, unshaken in its purpose and growing in its strength ; his character begins to show itself out in definite outline, clear, distinct, and firm, the Soul growing onwards to maturity.
And then comes the absence of desire, the gradual getting rid of all those desires that tie us to the lower world, the gradual working out of all those longings which in the lives that lie behind us we found had no satisfaction for the Soul, the gradual casting aside of all the fetters that tie us down to earth, the gradual elimination of the personal desire, and the self-identification with the whole. For this one who is growing is not going to be tied to rebirth by any bonds that belong to the earth ; men come back to the earth because they are held there, tied by these links of desire that bind them to the wheel of births and of deaths ; but this man we are studying is going to be free ; this man who is going to be free must break these links of desire for himself ; there is only one thing that will bind him, only one thing that will draw him back to birth, and that is the love of his fellows, the desire of service. He is not bound to the wheel, for he is free, but he ma)- come back
The Bull ling of CJiaracler. 1 1 I
and turn the wliecl once more for the sake of those who still are bound upon it, and whom he will stand beside until the bonds of all Souls are broken. In his freeing he breaks the bonds of compulsion, and so he learns a perfect unselfishness, learns that what is good for all is that which he is seeking, and that what serves the All is that which alone he desires to achieve. And then he learns self-reliance ; this one who is growmg towards the Light, learns to be strong in order that he may help, learns to rely upon the Self which is the Self of all, with which he is growing to identify himself.
There is a thing that he has to face, upon which I must say a word, for it is perchance one of the hardest of his trials while he is working in this Outer Court. When he entered that Court, knowing and seeing the mighty joy beyond, he turned his back on much that makes life glad to his fellows ; but there is a time that comes sometimes, there is a time that now and then descends upon the Soul, when, as it were, he has sprung outwards into a void where no hand seems to grasp his own, and where there is darkness around him, and nothing on which his feet may rest. There are times which come in these stages of the Soul's growth when there is nothing left on earth which can satisfy, there is nothing left on earth which can fill, when
112 In the Outer Court.
the friendships of old have lost some of their touch, and the delights of earth have lost all their savour, when the hands in front, though they are holding us, are not yet felt, when the rock beneath our feet, though our feet are planted upon it, is not yet understood as changeless and immovable, when by the veil of illusion the Soul is covered thickly, and it thinks itself forsaken and knows nothing of help that it can find. It is the void into which every aspirant in turn has plunged ; it is the void that every disciple has crossed. When it yawns before the Soul, the Soul draws back ; when it opens up dark and seemingly bottomless, he who stands upon the brink shrinks back in fear ; and yet he need not fear. Plunge onwards into the void, and you shall find it full ! Spring forward into the darkness, and you shall hnd a rock beneath your feet! Let go the hands that hold you back, and mightier Hands in front will clasp your own and draw you onwards, and they are Hands that will never lea\'e }'ou. The earthly grasp will sometimes loosen, the friend's hand will unclasp your own and leave it empty, but the Friends who are on the other side never let go, no matter how the world may change. Go out then boldly into the darkness and into the loneliness, and you shall find the loneliness is the uttermost of delusions, and the darkness is a light
The Building of Character. 1 1 3
which none may lose again in hfe. That trial, once faced, is found again to be a great delusion ; and the disciple who dares to plunge finds himself on the other side.
Thus the building of character goes on, and will go on for lives to come, nobler and nobler as each life is ended, mightier and mightier as each step is taken. These foundations which we have been laying are only the foundations of the building I have hinted at, and if the achievement seem mighty, it is because always in the mind of the architect the building is complete, and even when the ground plan is a-sketching, his imagination sees the com- pleted edifice, and he knows whereto he builds.
And the end 1 Ah ! — the ending of that building of character our tongues not yet can sketch ! No paint-brush which is dipped only in earth's dull colours can limn anything of the beauty of that perfect ideal towards which we hope to, nay, towards which we know we shall, eventually rise. Have you ever caught a glimpse of it in silent moments ? Have you ever seen a reflection of it when the earth was still and when the heaven was calm } Have you ever had a glimpse of those Divine Faces that live and move — Those that were men and now are more than men, superhuman in Their grandeur ; man as he shall be though not as
114 In tlie Outer Court.
he is, save in the innermost Courts of the Temple ? If you have ever caught a ghmpse in your stillest moments, then you need no words of mine to tell you ; you know of the compassion which at first seems the whole of the being, so radiant in its perfection, so glorious in its divinity ; the tender- ness which is so mighty that it can stoop to the lowest as well as transcend the highest, which recognises the feeblest effort, as well as the mightiest achievement ; nay, which is tenderer to the feeble than to the mighty, because the feeble most needs the helping of the sympathy which never changes ; the love which only seems not to be divine because it is so absolutely human, and in which we realise that man and God are one. And then beyond the tenderness, the strength — the strength that nothing can change, the strength which has in it the quality of the foundations of the Universe, on which all worlds might build, and yet it would not shake, strength so infinite joined with com- passion so boundless. How can these qualities be in one Being anH harmonise with such absolute perfection ? And then the radiance of the joy — the joy that has conquered, the joy that would have all others share its beatitude, the radiant sunshine that knows no shadow, the glory of the conquest which tells that all shall win, the joy in the eyes
TJte Building of Character. 1 1 5
that see beyond the sorrow, and that even in looking at pain know that the end is peace. Tenderness and strength and joy and uttermost peace — peace without a ruffle, serenity that naught can touch : such is the glimpse which you may have caught of the Divine, such is the glimpse of the ideal that one day we shall become. And if we dare to raise our eyes so high, it is because Their Feet still tread the earth where our feet are treading. They have risen high above us ; none the less stand They beside Their brothers, and if they transcend us it is not that They have left us, although on every side They are beyond us ; for all humanity dwells in the heart of the Master, and where humanity is, we, its children, ma)- dare to realise we dwell.
SPIRITUAL ALCHEMY.
LECTURE IV.
Spiritual Alchemv.
Now during the last three lectures we have been considering the stages, carried on as we saw simultaneously, by which the aspirant for entrance into the Temple is gradually purifying himself, is bringing his thoughts under control, is building up his character, or perhaps I should be more accurate in saying, is building its foundations. These are the three stages that we have considered, and we have seen that any one who has thus entered the Outer Court and has set before himself the great task for achievement, will take up these different efforts not so much one after the other, as one beside the other, and will gradually try to bring his whole nature under control, and to direct it towards the achievement of the object which he has set himself to attain.
Let us suppose then, taking these successively, as we are obliged to do for clearness' sake, let us
119
120 In the Outer Court.
suppose that our candidate now turns to the con- sideration of another part of his great task. I have described this part of it as Spiritual Alchemy ; and I had in mind, in the use of that phrase, a process of change, a process of transmutation, the allusion of course being to that work of the alchemist whereby he changed the baser metal into the nobler, whereby he changed, say, the copper into the gold. And I have in my thought a process which goes on in the world around us, to some extent I should imagine in the mind and in the life of every thoughtful and religious person, but which with our candidate becomes, as I have so often repeated, a self-conscious and deliberate process, so that he recognises his method and his end and turns him- self deliberately to the achievement of that which he desires. Now this process of spiritual alchemy spoken of, may be regarded, I think, in the most general sense of the term, as a transmutation of forces. Each man has in himself life and energy and vigour, power of will and so on ; these are the forces with which he is to work, these are the energies by which his object is to be attained. By a process which may fairly be described as alchemical he transmutes these forces from lower ends to higher, he transmutes them from gross energies to energies that are refined and
spiritual Alchoiiy. 121
spiritualised. It is not only that he changes their object, nor is the change of object the point to whicli my own mind is directed in this phrase ; it is rather that he changes and purifies them without as it were altering their essential nature, just as the alchemist, taking this grosser matter, really passed it through a process of purification ; not the mere purging away of dross, but a purification that went much farther, that took the very metal itself, that reduced it into a finer and rarer state, and then, as it were, recombined it into a nobler and sublimer type. So that you may imagine the spiritual alchemist as taking all these forces of his nature, recognising them as forces, and therefore as useful and necessary, but deliberately changing, purifying, and refining them. We are concerned with the method of refining, with the way in which this work may be carried out.
The object of this spiritual alchemy is not only this transmutation of the forces, though that is its essential part, but there is a subsidiary side to it which one cannot leave out of account. Souls are bound to earth-life, to the wheel of births and of deaths, by desires ; they are held there by ignorance, they are fettered by their longings after material enjoyments, after separated and isolated joys as it were. Continually engaged in actions,
122 In the Outer Court.
these actions bind the Soul, whether they be in themselves good or bad, whether they be in them- selves helpful or michievous ; none the less as actions they have this characteristic — that action in the ordinary man springs from desire, and that this desire is the binding and the fettering force. Actions must continue to be accomplished as long as man remains in the world ; actions are needful to be done else manifestation would no longer be. As a man grows nobler and wiser and stronger, his action becomes an ever more and more important factor in the world's progress. And supposing the greatest should abstain from action, then the progress of the race must necessarily be delayed, its evolution must inevitably be retarded.
How then shall it be possible that action shall be accomplished and yet the Soul be free } How is it possible that action shall be rendered, and yet the Soul .shall not thereby be bound and fettered ? Here again we shall find a case of spiritual alchemy, whereby the greatest may be the most active in service and yet his service shall touch him not as a liberated Soul, and you have exemplified what seems a paradox— a service which is perfect freedom. Now the phrase " spiritual alchemy " taken as a means to such freedom is only a way of alluding to the fundamental Law of Sacrifice, that
spiritual AIchei)iy. 123
great Law which in the manifested universe lies at the root of all and is constantly expressing itself, whose forms are so various that it is easy to mistake them, whose action is so complicated that it is easy to blunder. Easiest of all, perhaps, to blunder in expression ; for you are dealing with a many-sided truth that is seen in many aspects by the minds of men ; that abox^e all has in fact a double aspect as it is contemplated from above or from below ; that is a Law which permeates the universe, to which every atom may be said to be subject, and which is, in the fullest sense of the term, the expression of the Divine Life in manifestation. In touching such a Law at all there are endless opportunities for blundering — blundering on the part of the speaker in expression, blundering on the part of the hearers in grasping the thought which is imperfectly given ; so that in dealing with this, one is apt to be one- sided according to the view which at the moment is most before the mind ; according as the aspect, we may say, expresses itself on the side of Matter, or expresses itself on the side of Spirit ; according as we take a standpoint without — looking inwards, or a standpoint within — looking outwards. In dealing with a mighty subject where no one word expresses the thought, and where the grasping of the thought itself is difficult to those so undeveloped as our-
124 ^^^ t^i^ Outer Court.
selves, it is, as I say, most difficult for speaker and for hearer alike to avoid misconception, to avoid laying too much stress on one side or the other, and so losing that even balance from which truth alone can be perfectly expressed. And with regard to the Law of Sacrifice, this perhaps is especially the case.
Let us take it first in its lower aspect, an aspect which must not be overlooked — for it has for us many lessons — but that which is distinctly the lower aspect of it in all the worlds. Let us take it as we find it expressed in manifested Nature, as impressed on the Kosmos, working in the physical, the astral, the mental worlds, and so on ; including a certain relationship between all living things, including a certain relationship not only between living things as we all know them down here, but including other living beings in the worlds which surround us ; and let us stop on this lower aspect for a moment ere we venture to rise towards the higher, for here also we shall find a most useful lesson, a most luminous suggestion for our helping in this process of the Outer Court.
Regarding sacrifice in the lower worlds, it may present itself to us not unfitly as a process of mutual service or exchange, a continual turning of the wheel of life, in which each living being takes and
spiritual Alche)ny. 125
gives, in which he cannot avoid the taking, in which he ought not to refuse the giving. So that you will see sacrifice, if }'ou look at it for a moment in wluit I have called its lower aspect, as a continual turning of the wheel of life, in which all things take con- scious or unconscious part, and the more highly they are developed tiie more conscious will be their co-operation. This view of sacrifice has been put clearly, perhaps more clearly almost than anywhere else, in The Lord's Song, one of the Indian Scriptures, where this wheel of life is dealt with, and where you find sacrifice and action connected in a way which it is well to realise. Says the great Teacher : —
The world is bound by all action, by action with sacrifict; for object ; with such object, free from attach- ment, O son of Kunti, perform thou action.
And then, going backwards into the past in order to make this cycle which is sacrifice by mutual service complete, the Teacher says that: —
Having in ancient times emanated mankind by sacrifice, the Lord of Emanation said: "By this shall ye propagate ; be this to you the Kamaduk (that is, the milk of desire) : with this nourish ye the Gods, and may the Gods nourish you ; thus nourishing one another, ye shall reap the supremest good. For, nourished by sacrifice, the Gods shall bestow on you the enjoyment
126 /// the Outer Court.
you desire." A thief verily is he, who enjoyetli what is given by Them, without returning the gift. . . . From food creatures become ; from rain is the production of food ; rain proceedeth from sacrifice ; sacrifice arises out of action. Know thou from Brahma action groweth and Brahma from the Imperishable cometh. Therefore Brahman, the all-permeating, is ever present in sacrifice. He who on earth doth not follow the wheel thus revolving, sinful of life, and rejoicing in the senses, he, O son of Pritha, liveth in vain.*
Now you have there this v/heel of life which lies at the root of sacrifice in all religions, and the purer and the nobler the religion, the purer and nobler will be the idea of sacrifice which pervades it. Notice how thoroughly there is carried out this alchemical idea, the changing always of one into the other ; the food changes into beings, but in order that food might be, the rain had been changed into food ; in order that the rain might fall, sacrifice had been offered to the Gods. Then the Gods nourish. You will find this turning of the wheel everywhere prominent in these ancient religions. The Brahman, for instance, will cast into the fire his sacrifice, for, it is said, fire, Agni, is the mouth of the Gods ; and the throwing of that sacrifice into the fire in ancient days, accompanied, as it was, with Mantras made by men who knew what they were
* Bhagavad Gitd, iii,, 916.
spiritual Alchony. 1 27
making, and made the Mantra as words of power over the lower forces in Nature, that sacrifice thus performed regulated many of these forces in Nature, which working upon the earth bring forth food for men. Although the action was in itself a symbol, that which it symbolised was real, and the force that went forth from the lips of the purified teacher and the man of power was real also. The symbol was meant to teach the people about this wheel of life, to make them understand that action is essentially sacrifice, and that all action should be of the nature of sacrifice ; that is, that action should be done as duty, that it should be done because it is right and with no other object, that it should be done in order that man may be in harmony with law, that it should be done because that is his answer to the law, his part of the common task. So that under this teaching sacrifice was the bond of union, the golden thread that linked together all beings in this manifested universe ; and as the root of sacrifice was action, as action came from the manifesting God, and as He was that which manifested, so it was said that Brahman permeated every sacrifice, and all action that was done could thus be done as duty in the world, not with desire for individual fruit, not with desire for personal gain, not with wish to obtain something
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fur the personal self — tJiere comes in the lower, the debased, the selfish view with which sacrifices were later done. As part of the turning of the wheel, as part of the accomplishment of duty for duty's sake, there is the very essence of the alchemy which, changing action into sacrifice, burns up the bonds of desire, and liberates the wise. Thus burned in the fire of wisdom, action loses all its binding force upon the Soul ; the Soul becomes a fellow-worker with the divine in Nature, and every action that is cast upon the altar of duty becomes a force which turns the wheel of life but never binds the Soul.
That, then — this constant exchange, this mutual service — that is one form of the great Law of Sacrifice, and the change which is produced is of this nature, that where the action is done as duty, it becomes part of the universal harmony, distinctly helps forward evolution, distinctly helps in the raising of the race. The work of our aspirant in the Outer Court is gradually to train himself to perform all action in this sacrificial way, realising that he is thus performing it, asking for nothing, seeking for nothing, looking for no fruit, demanding no reward, doing it because it ought to be done, and for no other reason. Who does that, he is indeed performing this work of spiritual alchemy by which all action is purified in the fire of wisdom ; he is
Spiritual Alchemv. 129
in conscious harmony with the divine will in the manifested universe, and so becomes a force for evolution, so becomes an energy for progress, and the whole race then benefits by the action which otherwise would only have brought to the sacrificer a personal fruit, which in its turn would have bound his Soul, and limited his potentialities for good. Thus then we may regard this law of sacrifice as working, when regarded in its lower aspect.
Let us come on now to the higher, to the sublimer view, and in order that we may gain this without misconception, I will try to do it the more carefully, and dwell upon it the more fully, because I see how easily mistake may arise out of a partial present- ment, for which 1 myself am responsible. I want to-night to delay a moment on the essence of sacrifice, and try to realise what sacrifice really means. It seems to me, and this is the thought with which I will ask you to begin, that sacrifice regarded in its innermost essence — regarded from the standpoint in which we shall all regard it more and more as we rise towards the diviner life- sacrifice is a giving or a pouring forth ; it is motived by the desire to give, its essence is in the longing to pour forth something which is possessed, and which, being precious to the possessor, he desires to I
130 In the Outer Court.
pour out for the helping and joy of others. So that the way to regard sacrifice, looked at from the inner side rather tlian from the outer, is that it is an act of gift, a pouring forth of the nature for the purpose of conferring happiness on others, and therefore it is in its essence joyous and not grievous, the gift itself being the very heart of the sacrificial action. Putting aside everything which may take place for the time in the making of sacrifice — we will consider that presently — looking at the sacrifice as sacrifice, it is gift ; and it is offered by a nature which desires to give, a nature which longs to pour itself forth, which would fain share with others all that it has of bliss, and which is motived by this one longing to pour itself forth into others, so that they may be one with it in its joy. But, you may say, why in its joy ? Because I asked you to come back to the very heart and the core of Manifestation. The supreme act of sacrifice, I ventured to say elsewhere, was that Self-limitation of the One Existence by which It put forth as Energy the manifested LOGOS. I find — not unnaturally, perhaps, because in dealing with this in its working out in the universe, I dwelt unduly on one side of it — that this view of sacrifice has been held to imply what seems to me a contradiction in terms : " the agony of the LOGOS." But what is LOGOS ?
spiritual Alchemy. 131
Brahman in Manifestation ; and the nature of Brahman we have been told over and over again in the ancient Scriptures, which in turn have their root in knowledge still more ancient, the nature of Brahman is Bliss. No other thought is possible, if you try to think at all of that which is beyond manifestation. That Brahman is bliss has been the keynote of the most ancient Aryan religion. And as man rises towards Brahman, the very last sheath of the Soul is called the Sheath of Bliss. If you take the Raja Yoga of India, and if )^ou study the vehicles in which the Soul can manifest itself in the worlds, you will find that as it retires from the lower worlds, as it shakes off the lower sheaths, it casts aside the sheath of the body, and then the sheath of the subtle body, and then the sheath of desire, and then the sheath of mind ; you will find that as it goes upwards and upwards, ever approaching that Brahman which is itself, and becoming ever more and more its own essential nature, you will hnd that at the very end there is a sheath, the highest, so subtle that it scarcely differentiates it from the One and Only, the filmy, rare individuality which is necessary in order to keep the whole harvest of the ages which lie behind. And that sheath has a name, and they call it the Sheath of Bliss, as though they would remind every
132 In the Outer Court.
one who is struggling in the world in the coils of ignorance, as though they would remind every one that this progress in Yoga, which is union with the Divine, is to be carried on from stage to stage until the Soul is enveloped in nothing but bliss, and then they say : " Brahman is Bliss." So that you realise, if you realise this great teaching at all, that there is not possible an act of sacrifice in that lofty region which can be aught but an act of joy, aught but an act of the giving forth of bliss, and the very essence of the thought — however imperfectly I may have personally expressed the thought matters little — is that from that Supreme Nature which is bliss the universe came forth, from this Self-limiting of Existence came the LOGOS that is Itself. And the very object of the Self-limitation was to pour forth the bliss which was Its own essential nature, so that when the cycle of existence should be com- pleted, there should be many individuals, radiant and joyous, to share with it that perfect bliss, a bliss which should ever grow as they approach to Itself ; there is misery only in the supposed distance from It, because of the ignorance in which the Soul is wrapped.
Take then, if you please, that as the essential thought : that the Law of Sacrifice is based on the Divme Nature, that the supreme sacrifice by which
Spiritual Alcheviy. 133
the universe was emanated was this act of giving by the Nature which is bhss, and that, therefore, the object of the whole must essentially be this sharing or scattering of bliss, and that the root of the sacrifice is this joy in pouring forth to bring many into union with Itself, of which the end is to be the Peace which passeth all expression. Realising that, we shall be able to trace our Law of Sacrifice, and understand what I spoke of as the dual aspect : the aspect which in giving, is joy ; but, inasmuch as the lower nature is a nature which grasps rather than gives, which shows itself continually from the stand- point of the lower nature as a renouncing, which is pain. And if we study this a little more closely I think we shall be able to escape from any contradiction, and perhaps clarify our eyes when we are dwelling on this great mystery, as it has well been called, of the Law of Sacrifice. Let us realise that giving is the highest joy, because it is of the essence of the Divine Nature. Let us next realise that as man becomes himself, that is, as he becomes in his own self-consciousness divine, he will become more and more joyful in himself, more and more joy-giving to others. So that bliss must increase as the highest nature develops, and pain can arise only out of the friction in the lower, out of the struggle of the lower — which is really the Self encumbered
134 Ifi iJi^ Outer Court.
with ignorance and wrapped about with delusions. So that we shall hnd as we trace this onwards, that the use of pain is to get rid of ignorance ; that the whole process of growth and of evolution is this getting rid of ignorance ; and although that may be described, and is constantly experienced by us in our lower nature, as pain and trouble and conflict, yet in proportion as the true man within us develops, in proportion as he is consciously active, in proportion as he is able to translate himself into the lower nature, just in so far will he realise that the essence of all his efforts is to bring to the help- ing of a sorrowful world this manifestation of joy and peace ; and he will gradually be able, as it were, to permeate the lower nature with his own conviction, as he gradually purifies it from ignorance and makes it realise the reality instead of the delusive appearance of things.
How then, it may fairly be asked, has this idea of pain been taken so continually in connection with sacrifice .'' Why have they been identified so much in thought that the very use of the word sacrifice conveys to the mind of a thinker or a reader the necessary idea of unmingled agony ? It seems as though the root of misconception lay in the lower nature : all its first activities are directed towards grasping, towards taking, towards holding for its
spiritual Alchemy. 135
own isolated and separated self ; coming out into this world for the gathering of experience where the higher man is as yet not at all developed, where liis influence over the lower — he himself being so inchoate — is of the slightest possible kind, you will have this lower nature plunging about in the world of sensation, grasping here and there at everything that seems attractive, ignorant of the nature of things, ignorant of the result of things, simply led away by outer appearance, and unknowing of what may lie hidden beneath this delusive surface. So that these early and long-continued experiences of the lower nature will be a constant grasping after apparent delights, and a constant finding that they are less satisfactory than had been imagined ; and you may remember that once I worked out for you carefully this meaning and use of pain in its gradual teaching to man of the nature of law, and of the transitory nature of the desires of the senses, of the gratifications of the animal nature. In this way pain leads to knowledge, as also pleasure leads to knowledge ; and experiencing these two sides of manifested nature the Soul gathers a little knowledge of the underlying reality of things. Gathering thus the experience which may be, and often is, painful in the gathering, it transmutes its experience into knowledge, changes this knowledge
136 In the Outer Court.
into wisdom, which then it takes as its guide ; as the knowledge accumulates which is held by the real man, this growing self is beginning to realise what it is ; as it transmutes it into wisdom, the wisdom is ever a source of pure and unadulterated joy : This growing wisdom ever means an increasing vision, an increasing serenity, and an increasing strength. So that to it, that which to the lower nature is painful is not unwelcome as bringing with it experience ; where some eagerly grasped gratification is found to bring disappointment and weariness to the true man, he changes that experience into wisdom ; so that from this standpoint even pain has its joyous side, for he sees in the experience not the transitory pain of the lower nature, but the gain of knowledge to the higher, and he realises that all these experiences mean his own growth in knowledge and in power ; he chooses them with a deliberate joy in the choosing, because he sees the end of the working, and the gold that comes out of the fire.
But supposing we take the human being, blinded with ignorance, in the lower world ; suppose we find him learning these lessons which nature is continually teaching, lessons which are stern and painful ; suppose we see him seeking animal gratification, careless of the loss inflicted upon others, careless of the suffering which results to
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those around him, pkinging over others in order to grasp for himself some object of desire ; then certainly when he finds it fall to pieces in his grasp, his first feeling will be one of acute pain, of intense disappointment, a sense of weariness and of disgust. And so, looked at from his standpoint, the experience is a truly painful one, although from that higher standpoint it is one that was well worth the gathering because of the wisdom which it brings, the deeper insight into nature, and the surer knowledge of law. But it is far more than that. The lower and the higher find themselves in conflict ; the higher wills a certain achievement ; through the lower it has to work ; the lower under- stands not the aim of the higher, realises not the object which the higher sees ; without that co- operation of the lower the object of the higher cannot be accomplished, and so there is this struggle with the lower nature, sometimes to force it for- wards, sometimes to hold it back, and the whole of this, to the lower nature still wrapped in ignorance, results as a feeling of restraint, a feeling of enforced giving up of what it desires to have ; but slowly there comes into that lower nature, as the higher works upon it more effectually, an understanding that it is well that this thing should be done, that althougli there may be pain in the doing, the gain
138 In the Outer Co7in.
is well worth the suffering, and that this overcoming of difficulty by effort, while the effort in itself is painful, still results in so much gain of strength that the mere passing pain of the effort is lost in the joy of the achieving. Thus as the Soul is developed, there will be, even so far as the lower nature is concerned, this double working in the intellect, in the mind of man, in which he will deliberately choose a thing which is difficult to achieve because he realises it as supremely desirable ; yet he cannot gain it without sacrificing some lower desires, and he sacrifices them and burns them up, as it were, in the fire of knowledge. He then finds that as he does it he burns up limitations that held him down, that he burns up weaknesses that held him back, and that the touch of the fire, which seemed at first painful, is really nothing more than the burning of these chains that held him. Then he joyfully takes the freedom, and as the experience is repeated, he realises more and more the freedom, and less and less the suffering by which the freedom is gained. So that from that inner standpoint once more this suffering is changed into joy, for here again is the divine alchemy, and he sees that in this pouring forth of the Higher into the lower the Higher is bringing the lower to share its joy and to feel more of its permanent and increasing bliss. And when
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the Soul is approaching the gateway of the Temple, when this process is to a great extent understood, the Soul will begin to see that all this is really a process of getting rid of limitations, and that the whole of the suffering is in these limitations, which prevent it from realising its oneness with its brotliers as well as its oneness with the Divine. As this is understood, and the pouring forth of the Divine Nature, which is the true man, expresses itself, it will constantly be felt that by the bursting of the limitation this diviner joy is found, and that the pain after all is again a question of separation, that the separation has its root in ignorance, and that with the destruction of ignorance there is also the ceasing of pain. And not only that, but as this limitation is felt to be illusory, as this limitation is seen as apparent and not real, and as ha\ing no