CHAPTER XV.

MIGRATION AND TRANSMIGRATION.

I have already spoken of progression and retro-
gression, as balancing each other in motion. The
symbol of the Cross in a circle is illustrative of this.
The upright, or " Phallus/' indicates the law of prog-
ress ; the horizontal line the cross of the law — retro-
gression, or the fall of man ; while the circle is the
sigma of eternity, or of revolution. Man, in growth
and decay, is simply the Ego in motion, and he must
conform to the laws of motion ; i.e., he must revolve
in an orbit, as worlds do.

All life is one ; man differs from the animals only
in form and the amount of life and mind he embodies.
Life has no beginning nor end ; but forms begin,
grow, decay, and end. The law that governs one
form governs all. Forms change as mind changes.

Consciousness is the highest manifestation of life.
Man and animals both exist after death, for power
cannot die. It takes ages for matter to progress up
to a form perfect enough to manifest consciousness
and thought ; so it takes ages for it to retrograde to
a loss of it. Even form does not change suddenly.
Death itself is powerless to effect any material change

178 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

in the form ; but the rough garment of the soul
is merely cast aside by death, and the spiritual body
is immediately formed — fashioned in the mould of
the mortal body. But this body, being like the natu-
ral body, composed of spirit condensed, is subject to
the law of vastation in the spiritual worlds, the same
as here. Consequently the form changes, as the soul
comes nearer and nearer to the union with spirit. As
a man is here, so he will commence on the other side.
If he is progressive here, he continues to progress till
the merit he has acquired in this life is exhausted,
then he will commence retrograding. If he is retro-
grading here, he will continue on the other side, till
he reaches, in the lapse of ages, perhaps, a state of
unconsciousness in which he is re-incarnated in some
other form.

Life is like the revolutions of a wheel ; or as the
succession of the seasons ; or as day and night. Man,
and in fact every form in nature, may be likened to a
fly on the rim of a revolving wheel, one half of which
is in darkness, while the other half is in light. At
the top — at the zenith — the light is extremely
brilliant, and the fly as he ascends, assumes various
hues of color which he did not manifest in twilight
or in darkness, presenting at the culminating point of
motion all the inherent beauty he possesses. As the
wheel carries him down on the other side into dark-
ness, his beauties disappear one by one till at last he
entirely disappears for a season to emerge again and
again, times without number as the wheel carries him

MIGRA TION AND TRANSMIGRA TION 1 79

eternally around. Imagine, if you can, that man, or
any object, is the entire wheel, and that he revolves,
bathing himself alternately in light and darkness,
changing form and qualities perceptibly in light and
imperceptibly in darkness, and you will grasp the idea
of life without beginning or end.

As infancy merges into maturity and maturity into
old age, so does life flow on in imperceptible changes
from those below all human knowledge through the
lowest worm or insect to the loftiest, even to God
Himself. In vain does doubt strain its powers to
discover the missing link between the species — it is
not to be found in physical things, — but the fact
that intelligence is common to all and that it is graded
from the lowest to the highest, shows the common
origin of things ; and as the connecting links are not
discoverable in physical nature, the points of diver-
gence must be in that nature which is other than phys-
ical. So, after death, the change from one species
to another, or from one nature to another, is effected ;
and the slow change of form in this life is the mere
ripening, preparatory to making that change.

Retrogression is as much a law as is progression,
and, as it is far easier for weakness to fall than to
climb, so is retrogression more apparent than progres-
sion.

It is not apparent that the brute nature becomes
human, neither does it appear to the sight of the eye
that the earth is a revolving sphere ; nevertheless,
such are truths which the mind may grasp as firmly

180 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

as hands grasp matter. If the animal nature ascend
to the human plane, the descent of the human to the
animal plane and form, is just as certain, and far
easier, since to fall is easier than to rise.

Many intelligent people hold to the doctrine of
reincarnation while they look with repugnance upon
the idea of transmigration. They readily accept the
idea that an animal may become human after death,
or that a soul may be reincarnated in another human
form, but, to such savants, the idea that a human being
may become something less than human, is very re-
pugnant : again, there are plenty of exalted spirits
from the astral plane of being, who, while controlling
mediums and lecturers, deny in toto the idea of trans-
migration for no reason other than that they do not
know of it, as if existence is limited by knowledge.
If there is a plane of consciousness near at hand, — -
even on its confines — is a plane of unconsciousness,
wherein, as in a womb, beings change form and
nature.

This is the dark region underlying all conscious
life, wherein the wheel of existence is submerged at
every revolution and even worlds change polarities
and reverse their conformation. Herein races, spe-
cies, nations, all forms, even intelligence itself, are
lost when the wheel turns round. Who shall tell us
of the submersion of the fabled Atlantis, and where
are the voices or records of that intellectual greatness
of which we, with our boasted science and erudition,
are merely an echo, — and a faint one at best.

MIGRA TION AND TRANSMIGRA TION. 1 8 1

That the wheel goes around, there is no question,
but of the duration of time for its revolution, who
can estimate. Intelligence is acquired, and thus it
may be lost. As this is true of the individual, so it
is of the race, or of the world. There is no such
thing as existence without change ; and change is
alternation, as a rising up and a falling down ; though
in cycles both vast and small. Repugnant as these
ideas may be to modern taste, they are certainly based
in logic ; and if age gives any prestige to anything,
this must take the precedent, for the transmigration
of the soul is the oldest religion known to man.

Upon the tombs of ancient Egypt there is sculp-
tured in the rock a picture of Osiris seated on a
throne, and human beings ascending upon a stairway
to him. In front of him they seem to divide. Those
on the right still retain the human form, but those on
the left are animals. Furthermore, there are more
people in existence who entertain this belief than
otherwise. If you read our Bible, you will see that
the Jews believed in it ; and Jesus also. (Mark ix.
12, 12, 13). Also see Matthew xvii. 10, 11, 12, 13,
and xvi. 13, 14; also xiv. 2, 3.

Now for the logic of it. An eternal existence,
based upon the pleasure of a changeable God, is too
absurd to think of, but all Christendom holds to such
a view. A beginning proves an end. This we show
to be an illusion of sense ; for a beginning is only
apparently so as regards the life, while it is really so
in reference to the form. You had an existence as

1 82 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

an infant, but no recollection of it. You also existed
in utero, but the mode of that existence was altogether
different from life since your birth. You also had an
existence as a spermatozoa, and swam around in a
drop of semen as a whale does in the ocean, and
fought with and destroyed other spermatozoa weaker
than yourself. It took a microscope to see you then,
but you were a conscious, living being, having the
power of volition.

Beyond this, science cannot follow you. But we can
reasonably believe that you existed in an unconscious
state in your father's veins ; and who can know you
were not conscious even then ? Shall we assume to
deny it, because, in our ignorance, we are unable to
find you ? Is not the air full of infinitesimal life,
of which we know nothing ? We know that you, as a
spermatozoa, died in the womb before you became a
child. Who knows that you had not just died before
you became a spermatozoa ? And who knows but
that you might have been butchered, as a lamb, a
little while before ?

Every act is either good or bad, according to the
motive — or the mother of it, — but it is the ego
itself which appears in the form or effects which are
generated by our acts,

The ego which generates a body in the womb is
a living, conscious entity prior to and during gesta-
tion ; although it sleeps some of the time during such
gestation, — as we all sleep at night. In gestation
the ego not only produces the form, but it becomes

MIGRA TION AND TRANSMIGRA TION. 1 8 3

the form also. I and my body are one — I am in
my form, and my form is also in me and comes out of
me to replace the wasting tissue of this fleshly body,
or to repair its wounds. I am not limited to my
body, but enclose it in my spirit, as God does the
world ; and St. John declares that " God so loved the
world that He gave His only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth on Him should not perish but
have everlasting life.,,

Now, the world is a mere form, as the body is, —
it is the appearance of the Feminine principle of na-
ture, in which things are begotten, gestate, and out
of which they are born in due time. The spirit sur-
rounding or hovering over the earth is the masculine,
or begetting principle, — and the only thing or prin-
ciple which can be begotten in the earth, or in the
world, is life.

The thought arises, Why should " God so love the
world " ? The only reasonable answer is this. Be-
cause it is His "better half" — a form in which He
changes Himself from one into many, — from power
into weakness. His only begotten Son is life, — or
the ego in man which is the giver of life to the body.
He who believes in life has a conception in his soul of
an ideal life that he delights to form into a charac-
ter that shall be eternal. He beholds the manifesta-
tions of life in all forms, has respect for all things
that feel, and only pity for the pains and woes of
weakness. Eyes are windows through which God
looks at us. What manner of man is it, who, looking

184 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

into the eloquently pleading eyes of a harmless and
helpless dumb brute, unfeelingly takes its life ?

With what horror the dumb animals shrink from
the very smell of death ! Is this not a hint that life
is a sacred thing, and the begetting of it the noblest
and holiest work of man ?

As God begets life in countless myriad forms in the
world, so does man beget all manner of forms of life
in his body, — and some one of these forms will he
inhabit after his death, and such as he does not im-
mediately occupy will hover around in his spirit wait-
ing to be occupied by him in some future incarnation,
or, being vacant, are an invitation to some enemy to
occupy, who may be an instrument of " vengeance to
the third or fourth generation.' '

The distinguishing mark of a true human being, the
line drawn between man and the savage, wild beast,
is Pity. It is the true civilizer, and above all knowl-
edge. In vain we ask, what is all this life for which
swarms in the air, and walks upon the land, or swims
in the sea? Was it created as a mere pastime for
man's benefit ? Or, is it not more reasonable to think
that it is all rushing upward towards perfection, —
the fittest going up and the unfit going down. Dar-
win shows the law of "Natural Selection." Man!
Proud and haughty egotist that thou art. Nature
thinks as much of a mosquito as she does of you !
You gestate in water the same, and go out of life in
like manner as a mosquito does. But you make a
greater fuss about it. Arrogate nothing to yourself

MIGRA TION AND TRANSMIGRA TOIN. 1 8 5

because you are a little higher than the poor, patient,^^
dumb brute you drive. Treat them kindly, for you
know not how soon they may become human, and pay
you in your own coin for your brutality.

"Thou shalt not kill," was written upon Mount
Sinai by one who knew what he was about. The
Rahats of Buddhism are not allowed to knowingly
tread upon a worm, or to take any life whatever. We-"
are all related, and anon change places with each other
in the revolutions of the great wheel of Infinite Power.
We know not the effects of violence and bloodshed
upon ourselves and others.

Note the changes of form and feature from infancy
to old age, and see how many times the Identity is
lost in a few short years — lost to all save yourself
and those in constant association. The slowness of
the change makes no difference in fact. How often
it is said of one returned after an absence of a few
years, "Why, how you have changed ! I hardly know
you ! " Think you those changes will cease at death ?
I do not.

It is the desire of every man who believes in im-
mortality to retain consciousness and identity. We
are rather in hopes that we will lose some traits —
those which we despise ; but we would scarcely desire
to be something else after death, unless we could be
more God-like. Do we do not all at times do things
of which we are afterward heartily ashamed ? Who
is there whose soul does not shrink and recoil from its
very self in the memory of some act of the long ago?

1 86 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

How gladly would we, if we could, forget some things
of our lives. It is well for us that the wheel goes
around occasionally, and we forget ourselves tempo-
rarily for a brief period of time, for then we do things
worthy of true manhood, if such is really within us ;
but woe to him whose soul is that of a wild beast
when he forgets his parents and what is expected of
him as a human being.

How hard it is to forgive one's-self. No wonder
King David cried out to the Lord not to remember
the sins of his youth against him. Who is there who
does not love the forgetfulness of dreamless sleep ?
It is a forgiveness of the pain of the day's struggle
and a renewal of life. Sleep is an emblem of death :
of its value there is no question. We fold our hands,
and sink into sleep as an infant does upon its mother's
bosom. We give ourselves up to a power of whose
designs we have no knowledge. We sink peacefully
into an unknown existence, not knowing that we shall
ever return. It is like death, but of it we are not
afraid ; then why do we shrink from death ?

If the forgiveness of sin be the washing away of
its effects from the soul, it is a taking away of the
memory of evil deeds, — not from the memory of
some arbitrary judge, but from ourselves. Death
does this. ^ We have no consciousness of any former
life, — of being and doing differently, or in different
forms or worlds than this. This is God's mercy. To
leave ourselves behind and become something else is
the Christian's desire and prayer ; but the fear of be-

MIGRA TION AND TRANSMIGRA TION. 1 87

coming something worse is where the dread of death
comes in. If memory remains, it connects one to
a former life as if it were yesterday ; and so long as
this is so, a former life rises up to mock one.

What benefit will a pardon be to me if I have no
recollection of what sins I have committed ? If I am
"washed in the blood of the Lamb and made clean "
I shall be another being, another person, and that
other person will have all the benefit of salvation,
and I myself be forgotten. Is this not annihilation ?
What better is this than to be reincarnated ? What
matter the form if there be no recollection of a former
life?

But if memory remains, and the joys of paradise be
enhanced by a recollection of sins we have committed,
and the greater the sin the greater is God's glory, —
for remember God glories in saving sinners, — so the
more heinous the sin the greater is His Glory. The
absurdity. It is a good thing for mankind that such
nonsense is not true. Better is it that, like sweet
sleep, death shall wipe the slate of human actions clean.

This much-talked-of identity is but little under-
stood. I am not the same person I was forty years
ago, no more than one wave on the ocean remains the
same till it is beaten upon the shore. As wave
flows into wave, so life passes into forms of matter.
A ripple here and a wave there ; a tempest here and
a calm there. Such is life ! The great wave sinks
into the small one, or rises into the large one ; but
whether great or small, the calm levels all.

1 88 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

The soul has power to identify itself according to
its consciousness of what it has been. It identifies
itself in many ways, by looks, acts, or by the narra-
tion of incidents fresh in the memory of both. But
if memory is lost, and the form has changed, what
good is there in identification, even were it possible ?
which it is not. I feel that I am the same being I
formerly was, because I remember the long ago, —
there has been one continuous chain of events that
have gradually borne me along, — there has been no
great shock or disconnection of the current ; but a
shock sometimes interrupts the continuity of things.
Especially is this true in regard to memory. The
most valuable things are the easiest disturbed and
destroyed — as we understand destruction.

How weak, and yet how subtile and strong is
memory ! The past, with its multitudinous experi-
ences, sights, acts, sounds, etc., fails to keep along
with us. They drop out by the way, as one wearied
falls down to rest, and we look around at the end of
the journey for the companions of the way, and are
surprised at the smallness of the number we see.
And even those that keep the closest to us, are the
hideous ones we would most gladly have left behind.
Perhaps we have taken extra pains to outrun or to
evade some of them — but memory drags them along
with almost supernatural power.

The greater part of our life is made up of indiffer-
ent acts of which we take no note, and which make
little or no impression on memory's page, but the

MIGRATION AND TRANSMIGRATION. 1 89

great events stamp themselves ineffaceably upon the
soul. Memory being, then, the means whereby ex-
istence continues in the consciousness ', its culture
becomes of paramount importance, as regards identi-
fication."" Memory is the soul of genius. We do not
know but that the thoughts of the mind are half-
forgotten memories of previous existences ! And
Intuition may be but a perception of the past and
future, in which we have always been as now. Our
past lives are as a half forgotten dream. Some little
thing calls it up, as from the deep, more or less
vividly to our consciousness.

There are some things which destroy memory ;
so, also, there is a way of cultivating or of increasing
its power. The opening of the mind to what has
been is culture of memory ; the closing of the mind
to that which has been is the decay and loss of
memory.

Memory is the outward or material part of con-
sciousness, as the body is the outward of mind.
Hence, to increase in consciousness and soul-power
is to expand the memory or the inmost of mind —
the sensorium. Action is expansive ', but inaction is
contractive.

Bear in mind, now, that by , action I do not mean
physical or mental action, but soul action. The Ego
is the principle of all existence, and is the cause of
action ; but its first impulse is the evolution of a prin-
ciple which is the governing motive or power of
every act. Motives are feminine, while motors are

190 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

masculine, — being the force out of which the spirit
of the act is attracted by the motive. The ego sends
force through the masculine to find rest, to generate
in the feminine, and become materially visible after-
ward in form and effects. The motive is the life of
an act. Motives are dual — good and bad. The
absence of a good motive leaves the act deficient of
its life or expansive power. Hence, the absence of
good is the evil, which is contractive. The absence
of strength is weakness, of sight, blindness, of in-
telligence, ignorance, etc. That which increases power
is good, for it leads up to God. Good is the only
absoluteness of mind — for, as I said before, it is our
estimate — which descending into acts related to other
acts, becomes a relative good, i.e., partly good and
partly evil ; for it may be good for some, but evil for
others. Good, then, which is the least harmful to
others, must be the nearest approach to absoluteness,
and thus to the truth.

There comes from motives a certain quality which
they impart to every act ; and as acts are graded
from low to high, so does quality vary. Now, the
good of an act is meritorious, but the evil is not, and
it imparts another quality to spirit, called Demerit.
For spirit is action ; and the motive of the act is its
spirit — or the quality thereof.

Spirit is graded from the purest white, through all
grades of color down to the lowest black. The darker
the spirit, the more inert it is, for power resides in
spirit according to its color. It is the merit of an

MIGRA TION A ND TRA NSMIGRA TIOJV. 1 9 1

act which gives spirit its purity of color, but the
demerit of it saddens the color of spirit and thus
destroys its buoyancy. Merit is the concentrative
power of spirit, for it draws all the colors together
as in a focus, or prism of white light, or oneness ; but
demerit is a downward action towards matter — a
scattering or refraction of rays — as of many from
one in which colors appear — and power disappears in
the falling of it, or in its diffusion.

Principle is merit, but the absence of principle is
demerit. Now, it is necessary to know what a prin-
ciple is, in order to a comprehension of this recondite
subject. A principle is that which is true, self sus-
taining and self poised in and of itself. Perfect self-
moving and self-regulating being is a principle, — i.e.,
it is true being. The mental conception of such
being, coupled with a desire or hunger of becoming
such, is merit. It is meritorious for one to have this
spirit as the motor of all acts insomuch as it calls
into activity the highest mental faculties through
which pours from the soul both love and truth united
as one. Such love truth for truth's sake, not for
sake of reward ; and they are true because they love
to be so for the sake of love. This union of truth
and love is the great principle of freedom which dis-
solves the chains of bondage which hold man in " the
gall of bitterness.' ' Thus is merit expansive of the
Soul's consciousness, but contractive of the mind.
Demerit springs from a want of love of truth, and is
a disunion of love and will, hence, is void of principle.

192 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

In disunion there are differences, which lead to
aggressive acts — or acts against freedom.

Aggression is the soul of demerit. The object or
motive of an act gives merit, provided the object be
for the good of others. There is merit in all love, of
whatever name or nature, and it is this that supports
life. But there is demerit in hate and revenge, and
all passions which confer no good upon self or upon
others, and this it is that shortens life, and makes it
a continual agitation, and a death in life.

The expansion of consciousness is due to merit, but
the contraction of it to demerit. In the expansion of
consciousness the soul transcends mere mind, and one
becomes conscious of a truth, even without a reason
for it. Thus, the past and future rise up in the mind
in symbols, or impress themselves as a sensation or
feeling. The spirit-worlds may be reached in this
way without trance or objective vision. It is a con-
scious contact of minds, things and principles. Con-
sciousness meets consciousness in this expansion, and
the conditions of any state of being may be known.
It is a ready reader of character, motives, capacities,
past and future events, etc. But the small conscious-
ness is confined and limited by demerit — it reaches
little or nothing beyond itself.

Merit is acquired by acts of love ; it sets the spirit
free. Freedom is life and joy. I am aware that
some claim there is no freedom of action, and con-
sequently no merit or demerit therein. But we know
better.

MIGRATION AND TRANSMIGRATION. 193

Now, how, or in what manner does spirit rise or
become luminous by merit? The spirit has the
power to extract life from all substance or spirit, with
which it comes in contact, as it radiates in space from
the body, and merit is that which increases this power
of absorption or appropriation, while demerit destroys
that power. Merit eliminates the tenacity or cling-
ingness of spirit, by reason of which it is held to the
surface of things ; thus giving it power to penetrate
deeper into the inner essence or spirit of substance,
and to extract the finer essences thereof. Merit
increases the radius of spirit in this manner, and it
feeds upon all things, for there is no repugnance to
any. But whatever it may come in contact with it
only takes that which is according to its own quality.
Now, every object it meets takes something from
and imparts something to, the spirit ; hence, may
weaken it.

Demerit increases taste and repugnance, and in
this manner limits the freedom and radius of spirit,
thus compelling it to feed upon "husks," often to its
weakness and disease. (' He who is indifferent gets the
good of all, and his spirit is fat. j But he who likes
and dislikes the most, is poor and lean in spirit.
These are basic principles of power and progress.
Disease originates in this manner. As the beating
of the heart throws the blood to the extremities, so
does spirit pour out in the pulsations of will. As
blood purifies itself by contact with the air, in like
manner is spirit purified by the contact of pure

194 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

things. "To the pure all things are pure." The
more indifferent you are, the purer you are, for to
the indifferent all things are alike — one.

No man exists in any condition very long after he
is tired of it. The man who is forced to exist passes
rapidly out of one mode of existence into another,
becoming less and less as the circles narrow to the
going out. Demerit is that which compels us to
exist — but not with a continual consciousness thereof.
To increase in power, and the pleasure it alone can
confer, requires effort in the acquisition of merit.
Merit prepares the spirit, by giving it buoyancy and
elasticity.

The future life is similar to this. As we come
here by force and go out by force, so we enter spirit-
life and pass through it. But death is not a birth,
and there is not necessarily a growth there as here.
The spirit, being a mortal thing, is often diseased,
which, of course, weakens it. The laws of demerit
are vindictive, and all debts due under it must be
paid, and death is the penalty of violated laws. Now,
since the mind violates the law whereby the body
becomes diseased, the mind is the thing that must
die. Physical death is only typical of the real death
of consciousness.

There are things that wake not up after death, till
they awaken in another form — mosquitoes, for in-
stance. This is death followed by a birth into another
form, but the form of man containing more spirit and
greater consciousness, continues after death. But I

MIGRATION AND TRANSMIGRATION 195

am satisfied that many never awaken, or if they do,
they remain on the earth hovering around mediums ;
by this means striving to get back to their old
habits and vices — thus sapping the spirits of mortals
of vitality. Such have an ephemeral existence, and
at last fall asleep, and are again born upon this
earth.

But there are many who lose not consciousness for
a single moment, and who are not aware they are
dead till some time after. To such death is not a birth
into another form, and scarcely into another existence.
It is just upon the confines of another existence into
which the good walk deeper and deeper, and out of
which the bad are kept by their own inclinations:
not only in this, but in all the starry worlds.

In this world, as well as in all the planet worlds of
space, every man must stand upon his own merits,
and fall by his own demerits. There is no such
thing as the transfer of merit or demerit from one
person to another.

Merit may be driven wholly out of the spirit, as
colors may be washed out of cloth. This is done by
the accumulation of demerit. So, also, demerit may
be driven out of the spirit in the same manner, by
making its colors brighter and brighter, by the accu-
mulation of merit.

The reason is simple enough. Spirit is the light of
the body — its brilliancy is determined by the merit
acquired in some previous existence or succession of
existences. The brilliancy of the light may be in-

196 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

creased by improving the quality of the oil in the
lamp as you replenish it. But no other light, no
matter how brilliant it may be, can make yours one
whit brighter, by being placed near by. You can
only change the quality of your light by effort in the
acquisition of merit. A pure spirit can only impart
to ycu as you render yourself receptive thereto ; and
even then it can only give you the crumbs which fall
from its table. But crumbs of spirit are better
than mountains of gold, for they are health, power,
immortality.

Good acts have an influence upon the body in more
ways than one. To do good, because it is easy to do
so, is meritorious ; but there is much more in a good
act done when the inclination is the reverse. An act
may be forced out by sympathy — which is good,
because sympathy is a result of merit acquired in a
previous existence — but it may not have much merit
in it as an addition to that previously acquired. An
act done without sympathy for the sole purpose of
increasing good, without any hope or expectation of a
reward, has the highest merit therein.

A man does not act thus except from deep and
profound meditation upon the true relationship of
things. Merit is the substance of the celestial worlds,
and he who meditates deeply, attaches himself thereto
by the elevation of his spirit, and incorporates it into
his spirit according to his acts. Thus, it becomes
part and parcel of his body, driving out demerit.

In like manner could all diseases be healed, were it

MIGRATION AND TRANSMIGRATION. 1 97

not for the demerit of former existences. Demerit
must be worked out patiently and slowly. In some
cases it takes numerous births in the human form,
attended with a constant effort, with the object — to
get rid of the succession of existence where there is
nothing but an alternation of pleasure and pain con-
stantly before the mind, and an idea to enter upon a
state of being altogether out of all comprehension.
" He that would save his life shall lose it, and he that
would lose his life for my sake (the sake of principle)
shall save it." — Jesus.

Principle is the magnet which holds the man
steadily to the polar star of power. Mercy is full of
merit, if forgiveness comes from the motive to do
good. They that do good because it is easy and
natural, have their reward as they go along. But he
who does good contrary to his nature, through a mas-
tery of himself, lays up great merit in store for a
future life — verily his reward shall be great.

To feed the hungry through pity is good, but to
feed them with the reflection that by so doing you
will help them in the acquisition of merit is far better.
It is better to do kindly acts and say kind words with-
out feeling, than to feel and not say or do. Both are
good, but one is greater than the other. A small
meritorious act may elevate one to the seventh heaven
— but he cannot stay there, for when his oil is
burned out he must return for more. He will return
of his own accord, for he will be in darkness without
merit.

198 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

This earth is the only place wherein merit can be
acquired. A little merit will carry a big load of
demerit into heaven, but it cannot remain for want
of buoyancy. Every act we do, every thought we
think, and every word uttered, affects some one else,
and we do not know the extent of its influence.
Hence, all creation is bound together in the bonds
of sympathy. This is a result of demerit. The
Heavens are fast anchored to the Hells, and there
can be no perfect bliss so long as one poor soul
suffers. A chain is not stronger than its weakest
link.

No one can escape the meshes of sympathy without
cutting all its chords. Is this done by love, think
you ? Nay, but by indifference. The love of prin-
ciple is indifference towards objects. This is the first
and greatest commandment — to love principle !
The next is, love all things as you do yourself. This
is indifference ; for when one loves a principle with
all the intensity of his being, he has no self-love nor
love of anything on God's green earth. Now the
only principle in existence is Freedom. Neither
Power, nor God, nor Spirit are possible without
freedom. Look you at the host of martyrs for Free-
dom ! They loved principle better than self, wife,
children or friends — they were swallowed up in the
love of God's freedom ! This is indifference to
things. Indifference is "the door" through which
merit descends to man, and through which souls
ascend to God.

MIGRATION AND TRANSMIGRATION 1 99

We are all sunk in a psychologic sleep — the fall-
ing into which was effected by sympathy. Those to
whom this life is the most real, are in its deepest
phase. They cannot perceive the illusion of it, nor
the ineffable glory of awakening out of it, and the
becoming a spectator of one's own self and of others.
This becoming a spectator is the stepping out of the
illusion, as out of one's self in which state things are
visible in spirit only, or as another existence. It is
like a peering under the floors of conscious life, as
into a great darkness, wherein things become less
and less distinct ; or as a passing through a wall of
darkness into a great and indescribable light, and,
looking back, behold things as luminous — involved
in will, psychologizing each other; in which sleep
they dance with pleasure or howl and writhe in an-
guish, as if in fire.

Occasionly one gets tired,, and seats himself in
some obscure corner to look on. The gods seeing him
thus meditative, drop down into the mists of sym-
pathy, thus approaching him in condition, rack his
thought and increase his weariness to dissatisfaction
and a great unrest — or to hunger and thirst after
something permanent and real.

Have you, too, reader, become wearied of illusory
joys, that slip through your fingers in the grasping,
as a phantom eludes mortal touch? Become indif-
ferent, then, to the love of life, and gradually the
pain and pleasure of it will pass out of your recogni-
tion. Follow me in the culture of Will, and learn

200 THE TEMPLE OF THE ROSY CROSS.

the way to " the door." Space will not permit me to
dwell upon this theme, prolific as it is. Volumes
might be written, and still the darkness could no
more comprehend the light now than in the olden
time.

THE WILL. 201