part in the world where the true man is living, then

lie will begin deliberately to transmute these faculties of the lower nature, and by this alchemical process refine them in the way at which I have hinted in the beginning.
Let us take one or two cases, and see how that might be. Let us take first what is one of the great sources of pain in the lower world — the seeking of pleasure for the personal self, without regard to the
140 /// tJie Outer Court.
wishes or the feehngs of others ; the desire to enjoy in separation, the desire to enjoy in a httle circle which is fenced from the whole world outside, and is kept for this limited enjoyment of the lower self. That pleasure-seeking instinct, as it is sometimes called, how shall the Soul deal with that ? Has it anything in it that may be changed in the fire ? The pleasure-seeking which always ends in suffer- ing may be changed into a joy-spreading faculty, in which all shall share that which the one has gained. The Soul finds that it can carry on this transmutation by gradually seeking to eliminate the element of separateness from this pleasure-seeking outgoing, by constantly trying to get rid of this desire to exclude, by knocking down the little wall of ignorance raised round itself in these lower worlds in which it is manifesting, by burning up that lower wall so that it shall no longer divide itself from its other selves, so that when a pleasure is thought of and gained the self pours itself out amongst all its brethren, and carries to them the happiness that it has found. But still in truth it finds joy in seeking obedience ; for in a world where all is law, harmony with it must always bring peace and happiness, and the very presence of the discord is the showing of a disharmony with the law. But this Soul which is growing, when it finds
spiritual Alchemy. 14I
that it has gained some spiritual power, when it finds that it has gained some spiritual knowledge, when it finds that it has gained some spiritual truth, will train itself to feci that the joy of possession lies really in the act of giving, not in the act of gaining, and that what it needs to do is to break down all these walls that it once made round itself in the days of its ignorance, and let the joy spread out over the whole world of men and of things. And thus the pleasure-seeking instinct may be trans- muted into the joy-giving power, and that which once sought pleasure in isolation shall realise that joy is only found in sharing, and that nothing is worth having save that which is possessed in gi\'ing. And the joy of the giving is really the essential sacrifice, the pouring out to all of that which otherwise would become entirely worthless as being contained within a separated self.
Take another case for this same spiritual alchemy — the love which is selfish. Now here we have something higher than a pleasure-seeking instinct ; for the very word love at least implies some giving to another, else were it not love at all ; but it may still be a very selfish love, a love which is always seeking to get instead of to give, a love which is trying how much it can obtain from the objects of its love, instead of how much it can give to them,
142 In tJte Outer Court.
a love which just because it seeks to gain is sure to show forth the unlovely attributes of exclusiveness, of jealousy, of the desire to keep others outside, of the desire to have the beloved object for itself, and as it were to roof in the sun and keep it shining only in its own dwelling, none other benefiting from its rays. But a love that is selfish, how shall it be changed ? Not by diminishing the love ; that is the blunder that some men make ; not by chilling it down and making it colder and harder as it were, if love could ever be cold and hard ; but by encourag- ing the love and deliberately trying to eliminate these elements which degrade it ; by watching the lower self, and when it begins to build a little wall of exclusion, knocking that wall down ; when it desires to keep that which is so precious and so admirable, then at once trying to share with its neighbour ; when it tries to draw the loved one from others, rather to gwo. him out that he may be shared by others. The Soul must realise that what is beautiful and joy-giving should be given to all in order that they too may have the happiness which the one is receiving from the object which is beloved, so that all these grosser elements shall gradually disappear. When the feeling of selfish- ness arises, it shall deliberately be put aside ; when the feeling of jealousy expresses itself, it shall at
spiritual Alchemy. 143
once be put an ciul to ; so thai where the feehng was " Let us keep alone and enjoy," it shall be changed into " Let us go forth into the world together to give and share with others the joy that together we have found." So that by this process of alchemy, the love will become divine com- passion, and will spread itself over all the world of men ; so that which found its joy in receiving from the beloved, will hnd its delight in pouring forth to all that which it has found. And this love which once was selfish, which once perhaps was the love between one man and one woman, and then widened out into the circle of the home, and then widened out still further into the life of the community, and then widened out into the life of the nation, and then into the life of the race, shall finally widen out to include everything that lives in a universe where there is naught that lives not ; and it shall have lost nothing in its depth, nothing in its warmth, nothing in its intensity, nothing in its fervour, but it shall have spread over the Universe instead of being concentrated on a single heart, and shall have become that ocean of compassion which includes everything which feels and lives. Such would be, with regard to love, this alchemy of the Soul.
And thus )-ou might take quality after quality of
144 -^'^ i^^^ Outer Court,
the lower nature, and trace it out as I have traced these two, and you will see that the whole of the process is essentially a getting rid of the separate- ness, a burning up of that by deliberate will and deliberate knowledge and understanding, and that the whole of the process is a joy to the true, the real man, however much the lower man may some- times in his blindness fail to understand. And when once that is known, then that which was pain loses its aspect of pain, and becomes a joy, and even in the absolute sensation of what otherwise would have been pain, the joy overbears and changes the suffering, because the Soul sees, and the lower nature begins to understand, the end and the object of the work.
And thus tracing this subject we shall realise that there is yet another way in which this transmutation may occur ; that as this fire of wisdom and of love, which is the Divine Nature in man, comes forth into the lower nature more and more, burning up these limitations that I have spoken of, and transmuting it into its own likeness, there is also a liberation of spiritual energy, a liberation of spiritual power ; this Self which is thus manifested in the lower man is able to put forth energies and powers which seem in some strange way to be the outcome of the process that we have been tracing, an alchemy in
S/^ii i/nil AlcJirviy. I45
Nature by which — as this Soul, with its fire of love and of wisdom, becomes manifest in the world of men — in the very manifestation it seems to liberate energy, in the very burning up of the lower it sets free subtle forces of the higher ; so that the result of the burning is the liberation of the spiritual life, the setting free of that which was bound and could not manifest itself, but which, when this outer film shall be burned up, is freed for work in the world. We come dimly to understand, as the Soul is rising on to higher planes, and realising its identity with all and the oneness of all, we begin dimly to see the outline of a great truth : that it is able by virtue of its oneness with other Souls to share with them and to help them in many wa}'s, and that it is able to surrender and feel joy in the surrender of that which it might have had for itself, but which, having identified itself with all, it must needs give to the world. And so what might be called the prize of spiritual achievements — the possibilities of spiritual rest, and spiritual bliss, and spiritual growth, which could not be shared with others — may be surrendered by this Soul as a jo\'ful act, which is for it a necessity of its own nature, in order that all it surrenders may become common property, and spread through the race of men to help forward their evolution. And so we hear of
146 In the Outer Court.
disciples who give up Devachan, and we hear of Adepts who give up Nirvana, and we realise dimly that what it means is that these are reaching a point of self-identification with their brothers which makes it a divine necessity for them to share with others that which they have gained ; that the true reward for them does not lie in the bliss of Devachan or in the unimaginable beatitude of Nirvana, but that the only joy they care to take is the throwing of all that is theirs, all that which they might have enjoyed, into the common stock, thus helping forward the common evolution, the lifting upward a little of the race of which they are a part. And then we catch a glimpse also of another truth, of the way in which this help may sometimes be given ; and we see that when a man is weighed down under suffering that he has made for himself, and when in the great sweep of the law which may never be broken, there fall upon a human Soul pain and suffering, of which he himself has been in the past the sower and the cause — that when that suffering comes upon him, it is possible for one who knows no separation, who realises that he and this suffering Soul are one on the plane of Reality — not to take the inevitable result upon himself, leaving him who had sown the seed to escape reaping the harvest, but — to stand, as it were, beside him in the
spiritual AlcJierny. 147
reaping^, and to breathe strength and energy into his Soul ; thus, while the burden is borne by the one who made it, and the harvest is reaped by the one who sowed it, there is still, as it were, thrown into that Soul a new strength, and a new life, and a new understanding, which make it possible for him to fulfil his task, which change not the task but the attitude of the Soul in the doing it ; which change not the burden but the strength of the Soul which lifts it ; and one of the greatest joys, one of the highest rewards which can come to the Soul which is growing, and which is asking nothing for itself save the power of service, comes, when it sees a weaker Soul that is being crushed because it is weak, and finds that it can breathe into that Soul some breath of divine courage and of relief, and of the understanding that will give hope and the power to bear. The help which is given is the strengthen- ing of the brother-Soul to accomplish ; not the setting free that Soul from a burden which it has made, and which for its own sake it should bear, but a breathing into it of that power which grows out of an understanding of the nature of things, and which really for it also changes the pain of the suffered penalty into the quiet endurance of a well- deserved pain which teaches its own lesson. A Soul thus aided becomes joyous even while bearing the
148 /// tJie Outer Court.
burden of its Karma ; and the gift which is given to it is a gift which makes it stronger now and in the future and which is the outpouring of the Divine Life from the plane where all Souls are one ; that plane is kept full of this spiritual energy which can help by the constant giving of those who have found the divine joy of pouring themselves out, and who know no phase of reward other than the seeing their brothers rising upwards to the light that they themselves have achieved.
But if this be true, what means the difficult thought with which we are all familiar, which our aspirant most certainly will constantly have heard, which he feels himself to be facing when he enters on these probationary stages, and which he fancies covers all that lies on the other side of the gate into the Outer Court ? Why has the Path been called " the Path of Woe," if, as the Path is trodden, it becomes ever more radiant with this diviner joy ? Yet it is not hard to understand why that phrase should have been used, if you realise to whom the Path at first must needs seem a Path of W^oe ; if you understand that m this breasting of the mountain side, in this deliberate will to climb so rapidly, in this deliberate determination to outstrip the ordinary human evolution, one inevitable result of the effort must be the concentration into a few lives
spiritual Akhc))iy. 149
of the results that would else have been spread over many, the coming down on the Soul of the Karma of the past, which now has to be faced and to be dealt with in so brief a time, and therefore with a tremendous added force of intensity. When first that falls upon the Soul, it may come with a bewildering force, it may come with a blinding energy, which makes it realise suffering as it has never realised it before. But even then it is not the Soul itself which feels the woe ; it is the lower nature, blinded still and ever forced onward by the higher ; even in that moment of bitter trial, when all that is accumulated in many a life behind is coming down on the Soul that has dared thus to challenge its destiny, even in that moment the Soul itself is in a place of peace, and is joyous that this should be done speedily which otherwise had lasted through so man\' lives, and that in a fire which may be keen, but which yet is brief, the dross of the past shall be utterly purged awa}', and it shall be left free to go onward to the life which alone it recognises as desirable.
Thus it is that this path, looked at from beneath, has been called a Path of Woe, and also because men on entering it give up so much that to the world appears as pleasure — pleasures of the senses, pleasures of the worldl)' life, enjoyments of every
150 In the Outer Court
description, which so many people think and feel are the very flowers along the pathway of life. Bi;t this Soul tiiat is resolute to climb has lost its taste for them, this Soul desires them no longer, this Soul seeks something that does not fade, and joys that are not transient ; and although the Path may look from the outside like a Path of Renuncia- tion, it is a renunciation which, on the other side, means added joy and peace and happiness ; for it is not the taking of woe for pleasure, but the throw- ing aside of a passing happiness for eternal bliss, the giving up of a thing which can be taken from it by outer circumstances for that which is the inner possession of the Soul itself, treasures which no robber can ever touch, joys which no change of earthly circumstances can dim, or mar, or cloud. And as the Soul goes onwards along the Path, the joy deepens and deepens ; for we saw at the beginning that sorrow had its root in ignorance. True, the bitter pain will often come before the knowledge, but that is because of the ignorance, because of the blindness. There is sorrow in the hearts of those who, because of the sorrow perhaps, give themselves to the seeking of the Path, when they look over the world of men and see the misery and the wretchedness on every side, when they see the suffering of men, of women, and of children coming
spiritual Alchemy. i 5 f
back century after century, and millennium after millennium, when they see men suffer who know not why they suffer, and so have that sting of ignorance which is really the essence of pain. In looking over the world sunk in ignorance, and on men struggling amidst its coils, then it is that the hearts of the men who are to be the Saviours of mankind feel the misery of the world, and this inspires them to seek for it the Path of Liberation. But has it never struck )'ou, looking back to the history of those great Ones, and catching such glimpses of their lives as we may from history or tradition in the world of men, has it never struck you that this agony that They went through was before They saw the light ? That the agony was the agony of helplessness, the reflection of the sorrows that They realised while yet They saw not the cause, of the sorrow that They felt while yet They knew not the curing ? And if you take the sorrow of that Divine Man, whom so many millions of our race to-day regard as highest and greatest, the very flower of humanity, the Buddha who now has for lovers one-third of the human race, do you remember how He sought the cause of sorrow, how He mourned over the ignorance and the misery of the world, and saw not — it is said, perchance in parable, saw not — how that sorrow might be cured ;
152 Til the Outer Court.
how He went through suffering and pain and self- denial, how He renounced wife, and child, and palace, and home, and kingdom ; how He went out with only the mendicant's bowl alone into the jungle, far from the haunts of men ; and how His heart was heavy within Him, and His eyes were clouded ? He knew not, it is said, how to save the the world, and yet He could not be at peace while the world was suffering ; He went through many a danger, through many a pain, through mortification of the body, and the denser darkness and misery of the mind which sought to see but could not ; and at last, sitting beneath the tree, there came illumination, and He knew the cause of sorrow ; and then there came the time when sorrow vanished and joy took its place ; when, in the words that have come ringing down through the centuries from His lips, there is the cry of triumph, of joy, of happiness that shall know no future change. You may remember the words in which an English poet has voiced His saying, which show how the ignorance was the cause of the sorrow, and how knowledge was the seeing, and the coming of the joy : —
I, Buddh, who wept with all my brothers' tears, Whose lieart was broken with the whole world's woe, Laugh and am glad, for there is liberty.
Libcity! but that is joy. The tears came from
Spiritual Alchemy. 153
ignorance; the tears came from blindness; the heart was broken with the world's woe, as men's hearts are breaking now because they know not. But there is liberty. And the message of liberty is that the cause of sorrow lies in ourselves and not in the universe ; that it lies in our ignorance and not in the nature of things ; that it lies in our blind- ness and not in the life. Thus it is that when the light comes, liberty comes with it, and the joy and the laughter, as it is said, of the man become divine. For the divine light has flowed in upon His Soul, He is the illuminated, the wise ; and for the wise there is no such thing as sorrow, for the divinely illuminated Soul grief is dead for evermore.
ON tiip: threshold.
LECTURE V
On TllK TlIRKSIIULD.
To-night we stand before the Gates of Gold, those Gates that every man may open — those Gates which, once passed, admit a man into that great Temple of which we spoke four weeks ago — that Temple from which he who enters goeth out no more. And we are to try to-night, if we can, to realise something of the state of the aspirant who is thus approaching the threshold, who is hoping soon to pass into the Temple, to join the ranks of those who are set apart for the service of the world, for the helping on of the evolution of the race, for the more rapid progress of humanity. Looking for a moment over the dwellers in this Outer Court, in which we have spent our time during the last four lectures, there is one characteristic which seems to be common to every one who is there. They differ very much in their menial and in their moral
157
15*^ In the O titer Court.
qualities ; they differ very much in the progress that they have made ; they differ, as is perceptible enough as we study them, in the qualifications which they have already obtained, in their fitness to pass onwards ; but one thing they all seem to have in common, and that is earnestness. They have a definite purpose before them. Definitely and clearly they understand to what they are aspiring, they are looking on the world with an earnest purpose under their life ; and this, it seems to me, is perhaps the most salient characteristic and the one which, as I said, is common to them all. Those of you who are at all familiar with sacred literature in other lands than this will remember how much stress is laid on this quality of earnestness, of a definite purpose working itself out in a definite way. If you look at some of the ancient books belonging to the Indian faiths you will find that heedlessness is marked as one of the most dangerous of failings ; earnestness, on the other hand, as one of the most valuable of attainments ; it matters not to what religion you turn, you will find on this a perfect unanimity. Every one who has reached this stage that we are thinking of has passed beyond the bounds that sepeirate one creed from another, has realised that in all creeds there are the same great teachings, and that all religious men are seeking
On the ThreshoUL 159
the same great goal ; so that it is not surprising that whether you turn to the Scriptures that belong to one faith or another, inasmuch as they all come from the same great Brotherhood of Teachers you will find the same characteristics are noted as marked in the aspirant, and all of them speak of this quality of earnestness as one of the most essential for the would-be disciple. As clearl)-, perhaps, and a little more in detail than anywhere else, you will find the quality worked out in the second chapter of the Dha»n)iapad(j. It says there: —
If an earnest person has roused himself, if he is not forgetful, if his deeds are pure, if he acts with con- sideration, if he restrains himself, and lives according to law, then his glory will increase.
By rousing himself, by earnestness, by restraint and control, the wise man may make for himself an island which no flood can overwhelm.
Fools follow after vanity, men of evil wisdom. The wise man keeps earnestness as his best jewel.
Follow not after vanity, nor after the enjoyment of love and lust ! He who is earnest and meditative obtains ample joy.
When the learned man drives away vanity by earnest- ness, he, the wise, climbing the terraced heights of wisdom, looks down upon the fools ; serene he looks upon the toiling crowd, as one that stands on a mountain looks down upon them that stand upon the plain.
Earnest among the thoughtless, awake among the
I Go /// tJie Outer Court.
sleepers, the wise man advances like a racer, leaving behind the hack.
By earnestness did Maghavan rise to the lordship of the Gods. People praise earnestness ; thoughtlessness is always blamed.
A Bhikshu who delights in earnestness, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, moves about like fire, burning all his fetters, small or large.
In looking back over the whole of the work that we liave been tracing, you may see how this quahty of earnestness underlies the whole purification of the nature, the control of the thoughts, the building of the character, the transmutation of the lower qualities into the higher; the whole of this work presupposes the earnest nature which has recognised its object and is definitely seeking its goal.
This then, as I say, may be taken as the common characteristic of all who are in the Outer Court, and it may be worth while perhaps to note in passing, that this characteristic shows itself in a very salient way to those whose eyes are opened. You will all of you know that the character of a person may be very largely read in what is called the aura that surrounds him ; and some of you may remember that in dealing with the evolution of man, and taking different points in that evolution, I have sometimes suggested to you that in the very early days the Soul is a most indefinite thing ; that it
On tJie Threshold. i6i
might be, and that it has been, compared to a kind of wreath of mist with no dehniteness of outhnc, with no clear hmit marked. Now as the Soul progresses, this mist-wreath assumes a more and more defmite form, and the aura of the person assumes a correspondingly more and more defmite shape ; instead of ending vaguely, shading off into nothingness, it will take to itself a clear and definite outline, and the more the individuality is formed, the more definite this outline will become. If, then, you were looking at people in the Outer Court, this would be a characteristic that would be visible : they would be people whose auras would be well defined ; not only would they show very definite qualities, but these would be clearly marked externally, this clearness of marking in the aura being the outer sign of the inward definiteness which the individual Soul is assuming. And I am saying this in order that you may understand and realise that this condition of the Soul is a thing that marks itself as it advances ; it is not a thing where mistake can arise. The position of the Soul is not one given to it by arbitrary favour from an)' one ; it is not given by any kind of chance, nor does it depend upon any sort of accident ; it is a clear and definite condition, showing qualities definitely achieved, powers definitely gained, and these are
L
1 62 In tJic Outer Court.
marked out clearly, so thai they are \ isible to any observer who has developed within himself the powers of sight beyond those concerned with mere physical matter. The quality of earnestness, then, results in developing the individuality, and in thus giving this clear dehniteness to the aura ; the definitely outlined atmosphere which surrounds the person may be said to be the external mark of the internal state which is common to all who are in the Outer Court ; and although this will be more clearly shown in some than in others, it will be characteristic of every one who is there.
While the aspirants are in the Outer Court, it has been said, and quite truly said, in that wonderful little treatise, Light on the Path, that the initia- tions are those of life ; they are not the clear and defmite Initiations that come later, not those defniite steps which are within the Temple, the first of which comes on the passing through the Golden Gates ; but they are constant initiations which come in the way of the candidate as he is going along the path of his daily life, so that in a very real sense life may here be said to be the great Initiator ; and all the ordeals through which the candidate is passing here in this life thus prove his strength and develop his faculties. And if you turn to that same little treatise, Light on the Path^ you will
On (he ThnsJiold. 163
find that certain condilioni> are there laid down wliich are said, in the " Comments " afterwards [)iiblished in Lucifer, to be written in every ante- chamber of any Lodge of a real Brotherhood. These rules are said to be written in every ante- chamber, the chamber which comes before the entrance into the Lodge itself. And those rules are put into language, mystical in its character but still intelligible enough, although indeed, as in all mystical language, difficulties may arise by taking words too literally, in the sense of the mere words rather than as explanation of the inner verities that the words are trying to express. And those four great truths which are written in the ante- chamber are, you will remember, as follows: —
Before the eyes can see, they must be incapable of tears.
Before the ear can hear, it must have lost its sensitiveness.
Before the voice can speak in the presence of the Masters, it must have lost the power to wound.
Before the soul can stand in the presence of the Masters, its feet must be washed in the blood of the the heart.
Now the same writer through whom Light on the Path itself was given was used, as you may remember, a little later to further explain Light on the Path by the writing of certain comments,
164 In the Outer Court.
and tliese deserve careful study, as ihey explain nnicli of the difficulty that may be found by the student in the treatise itself, and may help him perhaps to avoid that over-literalness of which I spoke and to grasp the inner meaning of these four Truths, instead of being misled by the mere outer expression. It is said in these that the meaning of this first phrase, " Before the eyes can see, they must be incapable of tears," is that the Soul must pass out of the life of sensation into the life of knowledge, must pass behind and beyond the place where it is constantly shaken by these vehement vibrations that come to it by way of the senses, must pass out of that into the region of knowledge, where there is fixity, where there is calm, and wliere there is peace ; that the eyes are the windows of the Soul, and those windows of the Soul may be blurred by the moisture of life, as it is called ; that is, by all the effects of tliese vivid sensations, whether of jjleasure or of pain, causing a mist to be thrown upon the windows of the vSoul, so that the Soul cannot see clearly when it looks through them ; a mist which comes from the outer world and not from within, which comes from the personality and not from the vSoul, which is the result of mere vivid sensation and not of the under- standing of life. It is, therefore, represented by
On the Threshold. 165
the name of tears, because these may be taken as the symbol of violent emotion, whether of pain or of pleasure. Until the eyes have grown incapable of such tears, until the windows of the Soul no longer are dimmed by the moisture that can be thrown upon tliem from without, until these windows are clear and the light of knowledge comes through them, until that has been gained, it is impossible that the eyes of the Soul shall really see. Not, as it is explamed, that the disciple will lose his sensitiveness, but that nothing that comes from without will be able to throw him from his balance ; not that he will cease either to suffer or to enjoy, for it is said that he will both suffer and enjoy more keenly than other men, but that neither the suffer- ing nor the joy will be able to shake him in his purpose, will be able to shake him from that point of equilibrium which comes from the steadiness of the knowledge tiiat he has obtained. This knowledge is the understanding of the permanent, and there- fore of the incapacity of the transitory and the unreal to throw any definite veil over the vision of the Soul.
And so with the second truth, " Before the ear can hear, it must have lost its sensitiveness." It must have reached the place of silence ; and tlie reason for this, it is said further, is that llioui^h
1 66 In the Outer Court.
the voice of the Masters be always soundmg in the world, men's ears do not hear the voice while they are filled with the sounds of the outer life ; it is not that the Master does not speak, for He is speaking ever ; it is not that the voice does not sound forth, for it is ever sounding ; it is only that the sounds that are immediately around the disciple are so loud, that this sweeter and softer harmony is unable to penetrate to the ear through the grosser sounds that come by the senses and the lower emotions. Therefore it is necessary that silence for a time shall come ; therefore it is necessary that while still in the Outer Court the disciple shall reach a place of silence in order that the true sound may be heard ; therefore it is that this place of silence which he reaches must for a time give almost the feeling of want of sensitiveness, from the very quiet that is there, from the unbroken stillness of which the Soul is conscious.
And here this same writer speaks, and speaks very strongly, of the difficulty and the struggle which come when first the silence is felt. Accustomed as we are to all the sounds around us, when silence for a moment falls upon the Soul it comes with a sense of nothingness ; it is like entering into an abyss in which there is no footing, passing into a darkness which seems like a pall which has fallen on the
On the Threshold. 167
Soul — a sense of absolute loneliness, of absolute vacuity, a feeling as though everything had given way, as though all life had vanished with the cessa- tion of the sounds of living things. So that it is said that though the Master Himself be there, and be holding the hand of the disciple, the disciple feels as though his hand were empty ; that he has lost sight of the Master and of all that have gone before him, and seems to himself as though poised alone in space, with nothing above or below, or on either hand. And in that moment of silence there seems to be a pause in the life ; in that moment of silence everything seems to have stopped, even though it were the very life of the Soul itself. And it is across that silence that the voice sounds from the other side, the voice which once heard in the silence is heard for evermore amidst all sounds ; for once heard the ear will respond to it for ever- more, and there are no sounds that earth can make thereafter which will be able, even for a moment, to dull the harmony that thus has once spoken to the Soul. And these two Truths, it is said, must be felt, must be experienced, before the real Golden Gate can be touched -. these two Truths must be realised by the aspirant, before he can stand on the threshold and there await permission to enter within the Temple itself.
1 68 /// tJie Outer Court,
The other two Truths seem, from the description that is given of them, to belong rather to the life that is within the Temple than to that without it, although indeed they be written in the ante- chamber ; for much is written in that ante-chamber which is to be worked out on the other side, written for the guidance of the aspirant, that he may know the line along which he is to travel, that he may begin the preparation for the work that lies within the Temple itself. For it would seem from the description as though these other two great Truths - — as to the power of speaking in the presence of the Masters, and standing upright before Them face to face — are only realised, in their fulness at least, upon the other side, even though an attempt may be made in the Outer Court to begin to make them ftower in the Soul. And the first germs, as it were, may begin to show on the hither side of the Golden Gate ; for this power of speaking in the presence of the Master is said to be the appeal to the great Power that is at the head of the Ray to which the aspirant belongs ; that it echoes upwards, and then echoes downwards again to the disciple, and from him outward into the world ; that it consists in his appeal for knowledge, and the answer to the appeal for knowledge is the giving to him of the power to speak the knowledge that he receives. And the
Oft the ThrtshulJ. 169
only condition which permits him to speak in Their presence, is that he shall also speak to others of the knowledge that he has gained, and become himself a link in that great chain which joins the Highest to the lowest, handing on to those who stand not where now he stands, the knowledge which, in that place of his standing, he is able to receive. And so it is that it is said that if he demand to become a neophyte, he must at once become a servant, for he may not receive unless he be willing to impart. This power of speech — not power of outer speech which belongs rather to the lower planes, but that power of true speech which speaks from Soul to Soul, and tells the way to those who are seeking it, not by merely outer words, but by conveying to them the truth that the words so imperfectly express — that power of speech from Soul to Soul is given to the neophyte only as he desires to use it for service, as he desires to become one of the tongues of living fire which move amongst the world of men, and tell them of the secret which they are seeking.
Then comes that last Truth that none may stand in the Masters' presence save those whose feet are washed in the blood of the heart. That is explained to mean that just as the tears stand for that moisture of life which comes from vivid sensa-
I/O In tJte Oiitiv Court.
tion, so does the blood of the heart stand for the very hfe itself ; that when the blood of the heart is spoken of, in which the feet of the disciple are washed, it means that he no longer claims his life for himself, but is willing to pour it out so that all the world may share. And inasmuch as the life is the most precious thing a man has, tJiat it is which he is said to give ere he may stand in the presence of Those who have given all ; no longer has he a desire of life for himself, no longer seeks he birth for that which he may gain therein, or that which he may experience ; he has washed his feet in the blood of the heart, he has given up the desire for life for himself, and he holds it for the good of the race, for the serving of humanity ; only when thus he gives all that is his may he stand in Their presence who have given all. You see then why it is that I say that those two last Truths seem to apply rather within the Temple than without it ; for that absolute sacrifice of all life, that breaking free from all desire, that having nothing save for the sake of giving, that is in its last perfection the achievement of the very highest of those who stand on the threshold of Adeptship ; that is one of the last triumphs of the Arhat, who stands just beneath that point where all knowledge is achieved, and there is naught more to learn, naught more to
On the Threshold. 171
gain. But still the knowledge that such is the truth which is to become a living reality, is a help in the guiding of the life, and therefore I presume it is written in the ante-chamber, although there be none in that ante-chamber who may hope perfectly to attain to it.
Taking then these stages which lead us to the threshold, we begin to realise something of what they will be who are ready to stand at the Gate, ready to cross the threshold ; still with much of imperfection, still with much that remains to do, still with lives in front of them in which much is to be achieved, still with four great stages to be passed through ere yet they reach the lofty position of the Adept. We see that they are people of definite purpose, of definite character, of purified lives, of extinguished or extinguishing passions, of self-controlled character, of longing desire for service, of aspirations towards purity, of the highest nobility of life. Dare we for a moment stand on the threshold itself, glancing forward, if only for a moment, in order that we may realise still more clearly what lies in front, and so understand also more clearly why such conditions are made, and why in the Outer Court the aspirant must practise the lessons we have been studying .'' Just for a moment let our e)'e3 rest, though the)' can rest
173 /// tJic Outer Court.
but imperfectly, on the four Paths, or the four stages of the one Path, that he within the Temple, each with its own Portal, and each Portal one of the great Initiations. The first, that which >'Ou will find so often described as the Initiation which is taken by him who " enters on the stream " — that )'ou read of in The Voice of the Silence and elsewhere in many exoteric books — which marks as it were a passage, a step definite and clear, which makes the passage over the threshold into the Temple, from which, as I was quoting just now, no one who has once entered ever again goes forth, returning backwards into the world. He goes not forth, for he is ever in the Temple even when he is serving in the world itself.
That entering of the stream, then, is a definite step, and you will sometimes see it said in the exoteric books that there may be seven lives, and often are seven lives, that lie in front of the candidate who thus has entered the stream. In a note of The Voice of the Silence it is said that it is very rarely that a Chela entering the stream reaches the goal in the same life, and generally there are seven lives that stretch in front of him, through which he must pass ere the last step be taken. But it may be as well to remember perhaps, in reading all these books, that these phrases must
On the Threshold. 1 73
not be taken too dctlnitcl}'; for the lives are clTccts, and these lives are not measured always by mortal births and mortal deaths ; they are stages of progress perhaps, more often than human lives, but still they are sometimes measured between cradle and grave, although not necessarily. And these arc said to be passed, life after life, without break ; passing from one to another, passing onwards con- stantly without break in self-consciousness. And then beyond that first is another Portal, another Initiation ; and as these lives are lived, certain last weaknesses of human nature are cast off one by one, cast off for ever, cast off completely ; no longer now the incomplete labours of the Outer Court, no longer now the unfinished efforts, the unaccomplished endeavours. Here each work that is undertaken is perfectly achieved, each task that is begun is perfectly fmished, and \ve see that in each of these stages certain definite fetters, as they are called, are cast aside, certain definite weaknesses for ever gotten rid of, as the disciple advances onwards to perfection, onwards to the full manifesta- tion of the Divine in man.
Of the second Initiation it is said that he who passes it shall receive birth but once more. Only once more must he necessarily return, ere his compulsory rounds of births and deaths are over.
174 I"- tf'^e. Outer Court.
Many times he may return to voluntary reincarna- tion, but that will be of his own free will in service, and not by the binding to the wheel of births and deaths. And as he passes through that stage and reaches the third Portal, the third great Initiation, he becomes the one who receives birth no more ; for in that very birth he shall pass through the fourth stage which takes him to the threshold of Nirvana, and there can be no law that binds the .Soul, for every fetter is broken and the Soul is free ; the fourth stage is that of the Arhat, where the last remaining fetters are utterly thrown aside. Can we trace in any fashion at all these last stages, these four steps of Initiation ? Can we realise, however dimly, what the work is which makes the passing of these four Gateways possible, and which makes the changed life on the other side ? We have seen that the candidate is by no means perfect. We see, in these published books that are lit by gleams from within the Temple, that still there are ten fetters of human weakness that one by one are to be cast off. I do not now take them in detail, explaining each, for that would carry us too much within the Temple itself, and my work here is only in the Outer Court ; but, as you know, they may be stated, and I believe are likely before very long to be traced for you here one by one by
On the Threshold. 175
a competent hand. Let us then, witliout going into detail, lake them simply as guides for the moment, and ask ourselves how it is that the demands are so rigid before the threshold is crossed ; why it is that so much has to be done before this entrance into the Temple is permitted, before Those who hold the key of the Gate will throw it open when the aspirant stands thereat for admission ? It is easy, I think, to see that the conditions we have already studied must be partly fulfilled ere the aspirant can cross the threshold. Every step that he takes on the other side is a step that [places greater and greater powers within his grasp. On the other side within the Temple his eyes will be open ; on the other side within the Temple he will be able to do and hve in a way that on the hither side is impossible. The seeing, and the hearing, and the doing, will make him a man very different from the men around him, holding powers that they do not share, having vision that is not theirs, knowledge in which they have no part ; he is to move amongst them, but yet be partly not of them, different from them while yet sharing in their common life. But if that be so, it is needful to demand from him that he shall truly be somewhat different from them ere these powers shall be placed within his grasp ; for once possessed, he holds them and can use them.
176 In the Outer Court.
Suppose, then, that he had the weaknesses so common in the outer world, suppose that he was easily irritated by the faults of those around him, suppose that he was easily thrown off his balance by the common events of daily life, suppose that his temper was not well under control, that his compassion was not growing, that his sympathy was not wade and deep, that when another injured him he felt anger instead of compassion, and irritation instead of forgiveness, suppose that he had little toleration and small patience, what would be the result of admitting such a man beyond the threshold, and allowing these powers which are superhuman, if you take the ordinary man as type, to pass at all, how-ever imperfectly, within his grasp ? Would there not be the danger, nay, the certainty, that these small faults so common in men and women in the world would bring about results of the nature of catastrophes ; that if he were angry these fresh powers of the Soul he has gained — the strength of his will, the power of his thought — would make him a source of danger to his fellow- men as these forces were flung out and affected others ? Supposing he were not tolerant, supposing he had not learnt to sympathise and to feel, to know the weaknesses he had conquered, and to understand the easiness of failure : what, then,
On the Threshold. 177
would be his position among men when he was able to see their thoughts, when he was able to understand and read their failings, and when those characters which we veil from each other beneath the outer appearance were no longer veiled to him, but stood out clearly and definitely expressed (in that very aura that I spoke of, which surrounds each personality), so that he ever saw what people were instead of what they appeared to be in the outer world ? Surely it would not be right, nor just, nor well that such a power — and it is one of the lowest on the Path — should be placed in the hands of any one who has not learnt by his own struggles to sympathise with the weakest, and by the remembrance of his own faults to give help and compassion, instead of condemna- tion, to the weakest of his brethren whom he may meet with in his daily life. Right is it and just then that the demand should be rigid ere the aspirant be permitted to step across the threshold ; fair and right is it that the demand should be made upon him, and that he should be able to comply with it ; that there should be comparatively little left, at least of these ordinary faults of men, ere he steps within that mighty Temple where there is room only for the helpers and the servants and the lovers of mankind. And the task that he has to do
M
1/8 In iJte Outer Court.
is also so gigantic a task, that it seems necessary that he shall have made fair progress ere he puts his hand to it at all : to get rid of every trace of human weakness, to gain all knowledge that can be gained within the limits of our system, to develop the powers which place all that knowledge within reach at will, so that by merely turning the attention anywhere everything that there can be known passes within the knowledge of the observer. For that and nothing less than that, remember, is the position of the Adept. The Adept is the " one who has no more to learn " ; and Adeptship is but the last step on this Path that we are considering, which lies within the Temple, and which has to be trodden in so brief a space of time — a task so gigantic, an achievement so sublime, that were it not that men have done it, and are doing it, it w ould seem beyond possibility at all. For what would be this short span of lives from the ordinary standpoint for the making of such progress from the com- paratively low stage which marks the first Initiation to that sublime height where the perfected Adepts are standing, the ^•ery flower and perfection of the evolution of Humanity t And since nothing less than that is the task winch lies within the Temple, since nothing less than that achievement has to be accomplished, since not tlie slightest trace of human
On the Tlircsholi). 179
weakness nor ul liiunan ignorance must cling to the Arhat who is ready for the final Initiation, no wonder that before the threshold is crossed there is much for men to do, no wonder that the foundation that we have spoken of, which is to support the weight of so mighty a building and on which so vast a superstructure is to be reared, must be made strong and firm. And remember, when the eyes are opened the greatness of the task seems more than in the days when the eyes were closed ; that to him who has begun to tread the Path, the Path must seem far higher and longer than it can look to those whose eyes are dim on the hither side of the Gate ; for he must see more clearly Those who are beyond, and measure more accurately the distance that separates him from Them. And in the light of that perfect glory, how dull must seem his own achievement ; how poor and weak everything he can do, in the light of Their perfect strength ; how almost measureless his ignorance in the light of Their perfect knowledge ; and onl}' four steps upon the Path, only such brief tale of lives in which that Path must be accomplished ! But the conditions will be so different ; and there must lie, one would think, the possibility of the achievement ; there lies the strength perhaps of the feeling that the men who have done it, and are doing it, passed in
l8o In the Outer Court.
crossing the tlireshold into a state of life so different from that they left behind, that that which would seem impossible here becomes to them possible there, and that which seemed so difficult becomes comparatively easy. For although we may not wholly realise all the conditions on the other side, there are some that it seems possible to think of, that show how different the life is within the Temple from that which lies without. For first of all in this change of conditions, there is the fact that the men who are there understand — and much lies in that word "understand." You remember those words that I just stopped short of intentionally, last week, in quoting the cry of triumph which came from the lips of the BUDDHA, when He proclaimed the end of bondage and the finding of liberty ; how that cry to those who are in the outer world, telling them the cause of sorrow, spoke also of the ceasing of sorrow, and that that lay in the understanding of the reality.
/ Ho I ye wlio suffer ! know
Ye suffer from yourselves. None else compels, None other holds you that ye live and die.
And the man who has crossed the threshold knows that to be very truth. Men suffer from themselves ; they are not bound ; and in under-
On the Threshold. iSi
standing that, the whole world must change to his vision, and all the difficulties of the Path will also change their aspect. For once that we understand, once that we realise, that all these troubles and difficulties in the world grow from the world's ignorance, that men suffer because they do not know that they pass from life to life, and that they grow so little because they do not know ; that they make so little of life because they do not know ; that they gain so little in each life because they do not know ; that all this wheel of births and deaths on which they are bound holds them bound to it by their want of knowledge, by their not realising that they are really free if only they could understand — when once the understanding comes, however weakly, when once the understanding comes, not indeed with the vision of the Enlightened One, but still with full conviction, then the whole world changes its aspect to this man who has crossed the threshold, and looking back over the world with all its sorrows and its miseries, with all its streaming eyes and breaking hearts, he knows that there is an end to sorrow, and that with the ceasing of ignorance shall come the end of pain. And thus the heartbreak of it is removed ; though still the sorrow may not be utterly outgrown, that which made it despair and hopelessness has passed away from his
1 82 In the Outer Court.
Soul for evermore. And that is not the only change of condition — that which gives not hope but certainty, not hope of the dawn but the rising sun, and the certainty of the coming day ; that is not the only change of condition which lies on the other side of the threshold. One of the vast gains that he will have obtained in crossing over that threshold will be the gaining of a consciousness which shall not again be broken, over which death shall not have power, over which birth can no longer draw the sponge of oblivion. His consciousness for the lives that lie in front is to be consciousness continuous and unbroken, self-consciousness gained not again to be lost, self-consciousness achieved not again to be clouded ; lost in truth it never can wholly be, when once it has begun in man ; but it does not translate itself into the lower consciousness in the lives that lie on the worldly side of the Temple. In the lives that lie on the further side, within the Temple, the self-consciousness is an unbroken knowledge, so that that Soul can look before and after and feel itself strong in the knowledge of the immortal Self. And see how that will change all life ; for what are two of the great sorrows of life which come to men, and which men cannot escape ? Two of the worst sorrows that all have felt, and that all still feel, are those of separation
On the T'nresJiold. 1S3
and of death — separation which is made by space, when hundreds or thousand of miles may separate friend from friend, separation which is made by the change of condition when the veil of death has fallen between the Soul in the body and the Soul on the other side. But separation and death exist not for him who has crossed the threshold, as they existed for him while he was still in the outer world. To some extent he ma\' feel them, to some extent — bein^- still with the fetter of ignorance at least partially upon him — he may feel some pang of separation whether by distance or by death ; but it cannot really cloud his life, it cannot really break his consciousness ; it is only while he is in the body that the separation exists for him, and he may be out of the body at will, and go where space and time can no longer hold him. So that right out of his life are struck for all future lives these two of the great sufferings upon earth. No friend can again be lost to him, no death can again take from his side those who are knit to him in the bond of life. For to him neither separation nor death has a real existence ; those are evils of the past, and in their most terrible forms they are finished with for evermore.
Nor is that aJl of this enormous change of conditions in the life of the disciple. Not only has
184 In the Outer Court.
he this unbroken consciousness which makes it impossible that any can be utterly divided from him, but he knows that it also means that in these lives in front of him he will not slip back and feel as he has felt in the lives behind ; not again shall he come into the world unconscious, to v/aste perhaps half a life by not knowing w^hat he seeks ; not again shall he come into the world ignorant of all, for the time blinded by the matter that veils him, and knowing not the true purpose of his life ; he will return again indeed, but return with knowledge ; return again indeed, but return for progress ; and it will be his own fault now if the progress be slackened, if he press not onwards. He has gained the consciousness that makes the progress possible, and any standing still or slackening will be his own fault, and in no sense a necessity of his life.
And then again his conditions will be changed by the new companionship into which he enters, com- panionship where there are no clouds, where no doubts and no suspicions can arise, companionship above all the mists of earth, where they have no place and cannot again disturb the Soul. For in crossing into the Temple he has come within sight of the great Teachers, in crossing the threshold he has come within the vision of the Masters, and in the possibility of the touch of sucli lofty companion-
On the Threshold. 185
ship, all life to him for evermore is changed. He will have touched the permanent, and the transitory cannot again shake him as in the days when he knew not the Eternal. His feet are for evermore upon the rock, and the waves will not be able to wash him away from it, and give him again the trouble of swimming in the tossing sea. So that on this other side, mighty as is the task, the conditions are so different that the task seems less impossible, and we begin to understand why it has been achieved in the past, and why it is being achieved in the present ; we begin to realise that with such changes, such a Path, great as it is, may still be trodden ; and that these steps up the mountain side, though they seem to raise the Soul so high, and do raise it to heights so lofty, that these steps may be taken with comparative swiftness under conditions so different, and that the evolution may well be rapid beyond almost all dreaming where the powers of the Soul are thus unfolding and the darkness has lifted, and the light is seen.
And these stages that are to be trodden under these conditions, these steps that are yet to be taken, and these fetters that are still to be cast off — as we look at them we see that one after another the last phases of human weakness are disappearing, and the Soul shines out strong and
1 86 /// the Outer Court.
calm and pure. The delusion of the lower self is falling away, and all men are seen as one with the true Self. Doubt is vanishing, for it is replaced by knowledge ; and as the Soul learns the reality of things, doubt becomes impossible for evermore. And all dependence on the outer that is transitory, that too will slip from off the Soul ; for in this vivid contact with realities, all the outer things must take their due proportion, and it will learn how the outer matters but little, and how all the things which divide men are mere shadows, and not realities at all ; that all differences of religions, and all efficacy of one ceremony more than another, nay, all exoteric rites and ceremonies, belong to the lower world, so that they are only illusive walls set up between the Souls of men ; and these shadowy fetters will slip from the Soul that is learning, and these traces of human weakness will pass away. And the powers of the Soul will be unfolding, vision and hearing, the gaining of knowledge as yet undreamed of, flowing in from every side, and the whole Soul receptive ; no longer limited by the senses as here below, no longer nearly all the Universe shut off, and only a small fragment of it here and there find- ing its way as knowledge to the Soul ; but knowledge flowing in from every side and the whole surface of the Soul receptive to take it in ; so that
On the Threshold. 187
the gaining of the knowledge seems as it were a process of continually increasing life, and it comes constantly flowing into the Soul which has opened out to receive it from every side. And tiien still further on we faintly see that the Soul is getting rid of those etherealised shadows of desire that still seem to cling to it, the last touches as it were of the earthly life which might have power to retain. But as we reach the last of the Initiations, that stands before the highest, that which makes the man an Arhat, we find that it is all but impossible to under- stand at all, impossible to realise, what fetters there can be, what blemishes in a state so exalted ; and truly it is written that the path of the Arhat " is difficult to understand, like that of birds in the air " ; for like them he seems to leave no footprints, he seems to wing his way untouched, unfettered, in that high atmosphere wherein he moves ; and from that region there comes down a sense of peace unshaken that nothing may disturb. For we are told that nothing can move him, nothing can shake him, that he stands there unassailable by any storm of earth, in a peace which nothing may avail to ruffle, in a serenity which nothing may avail to mar. Those who know the state have written of it, and in words which needs must be weak since they are human words, have said something of the
1 88 In tJic Outer Court.
characteristics of one like that in syllables that seem faintly to image out that lofty condition ; for they say that he is : — ■
Tolerant like the earth, like Tndra's bolt ; he is like a lake without mud ; no new births are in store for him. His thought is quiet, quiet are his word and deed, when he has obtained freedom by true knowledge, when he has thus become a quiet man.
And it seems as though from that quiet there camj down to us a sense of peace, of serenity, of unruffled calm, of that which naught may change or mar ; and we understand why of such one it should be written, that :
There is no sufTc-ring for him who has finished his journey, and abandoned grief, who has freed himself on all sides, and thrown off all fetters.
Such is the Arhat who stands at the summit of the Path ; such the one who has but one step more to take, and then shall have nothing more to learn ; such the goal and the Path which all may tread ; such the ending of the struggle, and the ending is perfect peace.*
In tracing the steps of the preliminary Path, in speaking in words all imperfect of what lies on
* The quotations are from tlie Dhammafada, cliap. vii., " The Arhat."
On the Tlweshold. 189
the other ,side llic Golden Gate, have I seemed sometimes to speak too hardly, have I seemed to paint the Path with colours too dark, too gloom)' ? If it be so, tlien the fault is mine, and not the fault of the Path ; if it be so, then the error is in the speaker, and not in that which feebly she has striven to describe. For though there be difficulty and struggle and suffering, it is true for all those who enter the Outer Court, to say nothing of those who have passed beyond the Golden Gate, that when once they have entered within that Court, they would not for aught that earth can give them tread backwards to where they were before ; and for those who have passed across the threshold, is there aught that earth could give of joy or promise, that would make them even glance backwards at the world they have left behind ? For this Patli which stretches onward before us is a Path of which the pains are better than earth's jO}-s, and the sufferings more glorious than earth's fruitions. If you could press within the span of a human life every joy that the lower earth could give ; if you could crowd it with pleasure, and with the giving of the pleasure could also give the power to enjoy without ceasing ; if into that span of human life you could bring all that men know of the joys of the senses, na}', even what they know of the joys
1 90 In the Outer Court.
of the intellect ; if you could make it with no touch of pain nor of weariness ; if you could make it an ideal life so far as earth can make ideal ; then beside the steps on the Path — no matter what those steps may seem from the outer world — that life of earth's joys would be sordid and dull in its colouring, and its harmonies would be discords beside the harmonies that lie beyond. For on this Path each step that is taken is a step that is taken for ever ; each pain that is suffered on it is a pain which, if it is felt, is welcome because of the lesson that it gives. And in treading this Path it grows brighter as ignorance lessens, it grows more peaceful as weakness vanishes, it grows serener as the vibrations of earth have less power to jar and to disturb. What it is in its ending, — Those only can tell who have ended ; what it is at its goal, — Those only may know who stand there. But even those who are treading its earlier stages know that its sorrow is joy as compared with the joy of earth, and the very smallest of its flowers is worth every jewel that earth could give. One gleam of the Light which shines always upon it and that grows ever brighter as the disciple treads onwards, one gleam of that makes all earth's sunshine but as darkness ; they who tread it know the peace that passeth understanding, the joy that earthly sorrow
On the T/iirshold. 191
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Mr. Gyula Agoston— Rokk Szilard-utca, 39, Budapest VIII.
Mr. Pekka Ervast— Aggelby.
Mine. A. Karaensky— Kabinetskaya, 7, Petersburg.
Herr Jan Bcdrnicek— Chlumsky, Prague.
Mr. Henri Dijkinan— P.O. Box 644, Pretoria, Transvaal.
w
1
America
2
Great Britain
3
India
1
Australia
5
Scandinavia
6
New Zealand
7
Netherlands
8
France
9
Italy
10
Germany
11
Cuba
12
Hungary
13
Finland
14
Russia
15
Bohemia
10
South Africa
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