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THE WAY OF INITIATION
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THE
WAY OF INITIATION
OR
HOW TO ATTAIN KNOWLEDGE OF THE HIGHER WORLDS
BY
RUDOLF STEINER, Ph.D.
WITH A FOREWORD BY
ANNIE BES ANT
AND SOME BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES OF THE AUTHOR BY
EDOUARD SCHUR^:
Second Impression
LONDON
THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING SOCIETY
1909
1500 printed December 1908 1500 printed May 19*^9
\VI:LLCe\\lh
LH3RARY
C'lcneral I A^llocrk^ns
M
TRANSLATOR’S NOTE
Being deeply interested in Dr. Steiner’s work and teachings, and desirous of sharing with my English-speaking friends the many invaluable glimpses of Truth which are to be found therein, I decided upoi^the translation of the present volume. It is due to the kind co-operation of several friends who prefer to be anonymous that this task has been accomplished, and I wish to express my hearty thanks for the literary assist- ance rendered by them — also to thank Dr. Peipers of Munich for permission to reproduce his excellent photograph of the author.
The special value of this volume consists, I think, in the fact that no advice is given and no statement made which is not based on the personal experience of the author, who is, in the truest sense, both a mystic and an occultist.
If the present volume should meet with a reception justifying a further venture, we propose translating and issuing during the coming year a further series of articles by Dr. Steiner in con- tinuation of the same subject, and a third volume will consist of the articles now appearing in the pages of The Theosophist, entitled “ The Education of Children.”
Belsize Lodge, Belsize Lane, London, N.W.,
Zrd November 1908.
MAX GYSI.
FOREWORD
I AM very happy to recommend this valuable little work to English readers, having already circulated the articles comprised in it in the pages of The Theosophist. Dr. Steiners views, re- presenting a deeply mystical Christian Theosophy, are of very great utility, supplying a side of Theosophical thought which might otherwise miss fitting recogni- tion. He is the natural heir of the great German mystics, and adds to their pro- found spirituality the fine lucidity of a philosophic mind. Under his guidance, German Theosophy is taking its right place in European thought, and is be- coming a real force. If English readers find herein presentments of great truths
Ill
that seem somewhat unfamiliar, let them remember that in this difference lies their specific value, and let them seek to gain new views of truth by studying it from another standpoint. If they read sympa- thetically, seeking to understand, rather than in the spirit of antagonism, seeking to criticise, they will find many a gem of value, many a pearl of price, among the thoughts herein presented, and Theo- sophy’s jewelled diadem will be the richer for tlieir insetting.
ANNIE BESANT,
Presid'uU of the Tloeosophical Society.
Adyar,
nth September lilUS.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE PERSONALITY OP RUDOLF STEINER AND
HIS DEVELOPMENT ..... 1
1. THE SUPERPHYSICAL WORLD AND ITS GNOSIS 41
2. HOW TO ATTAIN KNOWLEDGE OF THE HIGHER
WORLDS ...... 66
3. THE PATH OF DISCIPLESHIP ... 88
4. PROBATION . . . . . .112
5. ENLIGHTENMENT . . . . . .130
6. INITIATION . . . . .167
7. THE HIGHER EDUCATION OF THE SOUL . 194
8. THE CONDITIONS OF DISCIPLESHIP . . 216
THE PERSONALITY OF RUDOLF STEINER AND HIS DEVELOPMENT
By EDOUARD SCHURE *
Many of even the most cultivated men of our time have a very mistaken idea of what is a true mystic and a true occultist. They know these two forms of human mentality only by their imperfect or degenerate types, of which recent times have afforded but too many examples. To the intellectual man of the dav, the mystic is a kind of fool and visionary who takes his fancies for facts ; the occultist is a dreamer or a charlatan who abuses public credulity in order to boast of an imaginary science and of pretended powers. Be it remarked, to begin with, that this
* Translated by kind permission of the author from the introduction to Le Mystere Chretien et les Mysteres Antiques. Traduit de I’allemand par Edouard Schur4, Librairie acad4mique, Perrin & Co., 1908, Paris.
1
definition of mysticism, though deserved by some, would be as unjust as erroneous if one sought to apply it to such person- alities as Joachim del Fiore of the thirteenth century, Jacob Boehme of the sixteenth, or St. Martin, who is called “the unknown philosopher,” of the eighteenth century. No less unjust and false would be the current definition of the occultist if one saw in it the slightest connection with such earnest seekers as Paracelsus, Mesmer, or Fabre d’Olivet in the past, as William Crookes, de Rochat, or Camille Flammarion in the present. Think what we may of these bold investigators, it is undeniable that they have opened out regions unknown to science, and furnished the mind with new ideas.
No, these fanciful definitions can at most satisfy that scientific dilettantism which hides its feebleness under a super- cilious mask to screen its indolence, or the
worldly scepticism which ridicules all that threatens to upset its indifference. But enough of these superficial opinions. Let us study history, the sacred and profane books of all nations, and the last results of experimental science ; let us subject all these facts to impartial criticism, inferring similar effects from identical causes, and we shall be forced to give quite another definition of the mystic and the occultist.
The true mystic is a man who enters into full possession of his inner life, and who, having become cognisant of his sub- consciousness, finds in it, through con- centrated meditation and steady discipline, new faculties and enlightenment. These new faculties and this enlightenment instruct him as to the innermost nature of his soul and his relations with that im- palpable element which underlies all, with that eternal and supreme reality which religion calls God, and poetry the Divine.
The occultist, akin to the mystic, but differing from him as a younger from an elder brother, is a man endowed with intuition and with synthesis, who seeks to penetrate the hidden depths and foundations of Nature by the methods of science and philosophy : that is to say, by observation and reason, methods in- variable in principle, but modified in application by being adapted to the descending kingdoms of Spirit or the ascending kingdoms of Nature, according to the vast hierarchy of beings and the alchemy of the creative Word.
The mystic, then, is one who seeks for truth and the divine directly within him- self, by a gradual detachment and a veritable birth of his higher soul. If he attains it after prolonged effort, he plunges into his own glowing centre. Then he immerses himself, and identifies himself with that ocean of life which is the prim- ordial Force.
The occultist, on the other hand, dis- covers, studies, and contemplates this same Divine outpouring, given forth in diverse portions, endowed with force, and multiplied to infinity in Nature and in Humanity. According to the profound saying of Paracelsus : he sees in all beings the letters of an alphabet, which, united in man, form the complete and conscious Word of life. The detailed analyses that he makes of them, the syntheses that he constructs with them, are to him as so many images and forecastings of this central Divine, of this Sun of Beauty, of Truth and of Life, which he sees not, but which is reflected and bursts upon his vision in countless mirrors.
The weapons of the mystic are concen- tration and inner vision ; the weapons of the occultist are intuition and synthesis. Each corresponds to the other ; they complete and presuppose each other.
These two human types are blended in
the Adept, in the higher Initiate. No doubt one or the other, and often both, are met with in the founders of great religions and the loftiest philosophies. No doubt also they are to be found again, in a less, but still very remarkable degree, among a certain number of personages who have played a great part in history as reformers, thinkers, poets, artists, states- men.
Why, then, should these two types of mind, which represent the highest human faculties, and were formerly the object of universal veneration, usually appear to us now as merely deformed and travestied ? Why have they become obliterated? Why should they have fallen into such discredit ?
That is the result of a profound cause existing in an inevitable necessity of human evolution.
During the last two thousand years, but especially since the sixteenth century.
humanity has achieved a tremendous work, namely, the conquest of the globe and the constitution of experimental science, in what concerns the material and visible world.
That this gigantic and herculean task should be successfully accomplished, it was necessary that there should be a temporary eclipse of man’s transcen- dental faculties, so that his whole power of observation might be concentrated on the outer world. These faculties, how- ever, have never been extinct or even inactive. They lay dormant in the mass of men ; they remained active in the elect, far from the gaze of the vulgar.
Now, they are showing themselves openly under new forms. Before long they will assume a leading and directing importance in human destinies. I would add that at no period of history, whether among the nations of the ancient Aryan cycle, or in the Semitic civilisations of
Asia and Africa — whether in the Graeco- Latin world, or in the middle ages and in modern times, have these royal faculties, for which positivism would substitute its dreary nomenclature, ever ceased to operate at the beginning and in the back- ground of all great human creations and of all fruitful work. For how can we imagine a thinker, a poet, an inventor, a hero, a master of science or of art, a genius of any kind, without a mighty ray of those two master-faculties which make the mystic and the occultist — the inner vision and the sovereign intuition ?
# * #
Rudolf Steiner is both a mystic and an occultist. These two natures appear in him in perfect harmony. One could not say which of the two predominates over the other. In intermingling and blending, they have become one homo- geneous force. Hence a special develop-
ment in which outward events play but a secondary part.
Dr. Steiner was born in Upper Austria in 1861. His earliest years were passed in ^ little town situated on the Leytha, on the borders of Styria, the Carpathians, and Hungary. From childhood his character was serious and concentrated. This was followed by a youth inwardly illuminated by the most marvellous in- tuitions, a young manhood encountering terrible trials, and a ripe age crowned by a mission which he had dimly fore- seen from his earliest years, but which was only gradually formulated in the struggle for truth and life. This youth, passed in a mountainous and secluded region, was happy in its way, thanks to the exceptional faculties that he dis- covered in himself. He was employed in a Catholic church as a choir boy. The poetry of the worship, the profundity of .the symbolism, had a mysterious attrac-
( 10 )
tion for him ; but, as he possessed the innate gift of seeing souls, one thing terri- fied him. Tliis was the secret unbelief of the priests, entirely engrossed in the ritual and the material part of the service. There was another peculiarity : no one, either then or later, allowed himself to talk of any gross superstition in his pres- ence, or to utter any blasphemy, as if those calm and penetrating eyes compelled the speaker to serious thought. In this child, almost always silent, there grew up a quiet and inflexible will, to master things through understanding. That was easier for him than for others, for he possessed from the first that self-mastery, so rare even in the adult, which gives the mastery over others. To this firm will was added a warm, deep, and almost painful sympathy ; a kind of pitiful tenderness to all beings and even to inanimate nature. It seemed to him that all souls had in them something divine. But in
( 11 )
what a stony crust is hidden the shining gold ! In what hard rock, in what dark gloom lay dormant the precious essence ! Vaguely as yet did this idea stir within him — he was to develop it later — that the divine soul is present in all men, but in a latent state. It is a sleeping captive that has to be awakened from enchantment.
To the sight of this young thinker, human souls became transparent, with their troubles, their desires, their paroxysms of hatred or of love. And it was probably owing to the terrible things he saw, that he spoke so little. And yet, what delights, unknown to the world, sprang from this involuntary clairvoyance ! Among the re- markable inner revelations of this youth, I will instance only one which was ex- tremely characteristic.
The vast plains of Hungary, the wild Carpathian forests, the old churches of those mountains in wliich the monstrance
( 12 )
glows brightly as a sun in the darkness of - the sanctuary, were not there for nothing, but they were helpful to meditation and contemplation.
At fifteen years of age, Steiner became acquainted with a herbalist at that time staying in his country. The remarkable thing about this man was that he knew not only the species, families, and life of plants in their minutest details, but also their secret virtues. One would have said that he had spent his life in convers- ing with the unconscious and fluid soul of herbs and flowers. He had the gift of seeing the vital principle of plants, their etheric body, and what occultism calls the elementals of the vegetable world. He talked of it as of a quite ordinary and natural thing. The calm and coolly scien- tific tone of his conversation did but still further excite the curiosity and admiration of the youth. Later on, Steiner knew that this strange man was a messenger from
{ 13 )
the Master, whom as yet he knew not, but who was to be his real initiator, and who was already watching over him from afar.
What the curious, double-sighted herbal- ist told him, young Steiner found to be in accordance with the logic of things. That did but confirm an inner feeling of long standing, and which more and more forced itself on his mind as the fundamental Law, and as the basis of the Great All. That is to say : the two-fold eurrent which constitutes the very movement of the world, and which might be called the flux and reflux of the universal life.
We are all witnesses and are conscious of the outward current of evolution, which urges onward all beings of heaven and of earth — stars, plants, animals, and human- ity— and causes them to move forward to- wards an infinite future, without our per- ceiving the initial force which impels them and makes them go on without pause or rest. But there is in the universe an in-
( 14 )
verse current, which interposes itself and perpetually breaks in on the other. It is that of involution, by which the principles, forces, entities, and souls which come from the invisible world and the kingdom of the Eternal infiltrate and ceaselessly inter- mingle with the visible reality. No evolu- tion of matter would be comprehensible without this occult and astral current, which is the great propeller of life, with its hierarchy of powers. Thus the Spirit, which contains the future in germ, involves itself in matter ; thus matter, which re- ceives the Spirit, evolves towards the future. While, then, we are moving on blindly towards the unknown future, this future is approaching us consciously, infusing itself in the current of the world and man who elaborate it. Such is the tivo-fold movement of time, the out-hreathing and the in-hreathing of the soul of the world, which comes from the Eternal and returns thither.
( 1-^ )
From the age of eighteen, young Steiner possessed the spontaneous consciousness of this two-fold current — a consciousness which is the condition of all spiritual vision. This vital axiom was forced upon him by a direct and involuntary seeing of things. Thenceforth he had the unmis- takable sensation of occult powers which were working behind and through him for his guidance. He gave heed to this force and obeyed its admonitions, for he felt in profound accordance with it.
This kind of perception, however, formed a separate category in his in- tellectual life. This class of truths seemed to him something so profound, so mys- terious, and so sacred, that he never imagined it possible to express it in words. He fed his soul thereon, as from a divine fountain, but to have scattered a drop of it beyond would have seemed to him a profanation.
Beside this inner and contemplative
( 16 )
life, his rational and philosophic mind was powerfully developing. From sixteen to seventeen years of age, Kudolf Steiner plunged deeply into the study of Kant, Fichte, and Schelling. When he came to Vienna some vears after, he became an ardent admirer of Hegel, whose trans- cendental idealism borders on occultism ; but speculative philosophy did not satisfy him. His positive mind demanded the solid basis of the sciences of observa- tion. So he deeply studied mathematics, chemistry, mineralogy, botany, and zoology. “ These studies,” he said, “ afford a surer basis for the construction of a spiritual system of the universe than history and literature. The latter, wanting in exact methods, could thus throw no side-lights on the vast domain of German science.” Inquiring into everything, enamoured of high art, and an enthusiast for poetry, Steiner nevertheless did not neglect literary studies. As a guide therein he
( 17 )
found an excellent professor in the person of Julius Schroer, a distinguished scholar of the school of the brothers Grimm, who strove to develop in his pupils the art of oratory and of composition. To this dis- tinguished man the young student owed his great and refined literary culture. “ In the desert of prevailing materialism,” says Steiner, ‘‘his house was to me an oasis of idealism.”
But this was not yet the Master whom he sought. Amidst these varied studies and deep meditations, he could as yet discern the building of the universe but in a fragmentary way ; his inborn intui- tion prevented any doubt of the divine origin of things and of a spiritual Beyond. A distinctive mark of this extraordinary man was that he never knew any of those crises of doubt and despair which usually accompany the transition to a definite con- viction in the life of mystics and of thinkers.
Nevertheless, he felt that the central light
2
( 18 )
which illumines and penetrates the whole was still lacking in him. He had reached young manhood, with its terrible problems. What was he going to do with his life? The sphinx of destiny was facing him. How should he solve its problem ?
It was at the age of nineteen that the aspirant to the mysteries met with his guide — the Master — so long anticipated.
It is an undoubted fact, admitted by occult tradition and confirmed by ex- perience, that those who seek the higher truth from an impersonal motive find a master to initiate them at the right moment : that is to say, when they are ripe for its reception. “Knock, and it shall be opened to you, ” said Jesus. That is true with regard to everything, but above all with regard to truth. Only, the desire must be ardent as a flame, in a soul pure as crystal.
The Master of Rudolf Steiner was one of those men of power who live, unknown
( 19 )
to the world, under cover of some civil state, to carry out a mission unsuspected by any but their fellows in the Brother- hood of self-sacrificing Masters. They take no ostensible part in human events. To remain unknown is the condition of their power, but their action is only the more efficacious. For they inspire, pre- pare, and direct those who will act in the sight of all. In the present instance the Master had no difficulty in completing the first and spontaneous initiation of his disciple. He had only, so to speak, to point out to him his own nature, to arm him with his needful weapons. Clearly did he show him the connection between the ordinary and the secret sciences ; between the religious and the spiritual forces which are now contending for the guidance of humanity ; the antiquity of the occult tra- dition which holds the hidden threads of history, which mingles them, separates, and re-unites them in the course of ages.
( ^0 )
Swiftly he made him clear the successive stages of inner discipline, in order to attain conscious and intelligent clair- voyance. In a few months the disciple learned from oral teaching the depth and incomparable splendour of the esoteric synthesis. Rudolf Steiner had already sketched for himself his intellectual mission : “ To re-unite Science and
Religion. To bring back God into Science, and Nature into Religion. Thus to re-fertilise both Art and Life.” But how to set about this vast and daring undertaking? How conquer, or rather, how tame and transform the great enemy, the materialistic science of the day, which is like a terrible dragon covered with its carapace and couched on its huge treasure ? How master this dragon of modern science and yoke it to the car of spiritual truth ? And, above all, how conquer the bull of public opinion ?
Rudolf Steiner’s Master was not in
( 21 )
the least like himself. He had not that extreme and feminine sensibility which, though not excluding energy, makes every contact an emotion and instantly turns the suffering of others into a per- sonal pain. He was masculine in spirit, a born ruler of men, looking only at the species, and for whom individuals hardly existed. He spared not himself, and he did not spare others. His will was like a ball which, once shot from the cannon’s mouth, goes straight to its mark, sweeping off everything in its way. To the anxious questioning of his disciple he replied in substance :
“If thou wouldst fight the enemy, begin by understanding him. Thou wilt con- quer the dragon only by penetrating his skin. As to the bull, thou must seize him by the horns. It is in the extremity of distress that thou wilt find thy weapons and thy brothers in the fight. I have shown thee who thou art, now go — and he thyself ! ”
( 22 )
Rudolf Steiner knew the language of the Masters well enough to understand the rough path that he was thus com- manded to tread ; but he also understood that this was the only way to attain the end. He obeyed, and set forth.
^ ^ ^
•W* *7?*
From 1880 the life of Rudolf Steiner becomes divided into three quite distinct periods : from twenty to thirty years of age (1881-1891), the Viennese period, a time of study and of preparation ; from thirty to forty (1891-1901), the Weimar period, a time of struggle and combat ; from forty to forty-six (1901-1907), the Berlin period, a time of action and of organisation, in which his thought crystal- lised into a living work.
I pass rapidly over the Vienna period, in which Steiner took the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. He afterwards wrote a series of scientific articles on
( 23 )
zoology, geology, and the theory of colours, in which theosophical ideas appear in an idealist clothing. While acting as tutor in several families, with the same con- scientious devotion that he gave to every- thing, he conducted as chief editor a weekly Viennese paper, the Deutsche W ochenschrift. His friendship with the Austrian poetess, Marie Eugenie delle Grazie, cast, as it were, into this period of heavy work a warm ray of sunshine, with a smile of grace and poetry.
In 1890 Steiner was summoned to collaborate in the archives of Goethe and Schiller at Weimar, to superintend the re-editing of Goethe’s scientific works. Shortly after, he published two important works, Truth and Science and The Philo- so'phy of Liberty. “ The occult powers that guided me,” he says, “forced me to in- troduce spiritualistic ideas imperceptibly into the current literature of the time.’» But in these various tasks he was but
( 24 )
studying his ground while trying his strength. So distant was the goal that he did not dream of being able to reach it as yet. To travel round the world in a sailing vessel, to cross the Atlantic, the Pacific and the Indian Ocean, in order to return to a European port, would have seemed easier to him. While awaiting the events that would allow him to equip his ship and to launch it on the open sea, he came into touch with two illustrious personalities who helped to determine his intellectual position in the contemporary world.
These two persons were the celebrated philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, and the no less famous naturalist, Ernst Haeckel.
Pudolf Steiner had just written an impartial treatise on the author of Zcirathustra. In consequence of this, Nietzsche’s sister begged the sympathetic critic to come and see her at Naumburg, where her unhappy brother was slowly
( 25 )
dying. Madame Foerster took the visitor to the door of the apartment where Nietzsche was lying on a couch in a comatose condition, inert, stupefied. To Steiner there was something very signifi- cant in this melancholy sight. In it he saw the final act in the tragedy of the would-be superman.”
The author of Beyond Grood and Evil had not, like the realists of Bismarck- ian imperialism, renounced idealism, for he was naturally intuitive ; but in his individualistic pride he sought to cut oft* the spiritual world from the universe, and the divine from human consciousness. Instead of placing the “ superman,” of whom he had a poetic vision, in the spiritual kingdom, which is his true sphere, he strove to force him into the material world, which alone was real in his eyes. Hence, in that splendid intellect arose a chaos of ideas and a wild struggle which finally brought on softening of the brain.
( 26 )
To explain this particular case, it is need- less to bring in atavism or the theory of degeneracy. The frenzied combat of ideas and of contradictory sentiments, of which this brain was tlie battlefield, was enough. Steiner had done justice to all the genius that marked the innovating ideas of Nietzsche, but this victim of pride, self- destroyed by negation, was to him none the less a tragic instance of the ruin of a mighty intellect which madly destroys itself in breaking away from spiritual intelligence.
Madame Foerster did her utmost to enrol Dr. Steiner under her brother’s flag. For this she used all her skill, making repeated offers to the young publicist to become editor and commentator of Niet- zsche’s works. Steiner withstood her in- sistence as best he could, and ended by taking himself off altogether, for which Madame Foerster never forgave- him. She did not know that Rudolf Steiner bore within him the consciousness of a
( 27 )
work no less great and more valuable than that of her brother.
Nietzsche had been merely an interest- ing episode in the life of the esoteric thinker on the threshold of his battle- field. His meeting with the celebrated naturalist, Ernst Haeckel, on the contrary, marks a most important phase in the development of his thought. Was not the successor of Darwin apparently the most formidable adversary of the spiritual- ism of this young initiate, of that philo- sophy which to him was the very essence of his being and the breath of his thought ? Indeed, since the broken link between man and animal has been re-joined, since man can no longer believe in a special and supernatural origin, he has begun altogether to doubt his divine origin and destiny. He no longer sees himself as anything but one phenomenon among so many phenomena, a passing form amidst so many forms, a frail and chance link in
( 28 )
a blind evolution. Steiner, then, is right in saying : “ The mentality deduced from natural sciences is the greatest power of modern times.” On the other hand, he knew that this system merely reproduces a succession of external forms among living beings, and not the inner and acting forces of life. He knew it from personal initia- tion, and a deeper and vaster view of the universe. So also he could exclaim with more assurance than most of our timid spiritualists and startled theologians : “ Is the human soul then to rise on the wings of enthusiasm to the summits of the True, the Beautiful, and the Good, only to be swept away into nothingness, like a bubble of the brain ? ” Yes, Haeckel was the Adversary. It was materialism in arms, the dragon with all his scales, his claws, and his teeth.
Steiner’s desire to understand this man, and to do him justice as to all that was great in him, to fathom his theory so far
( 29 )
as it was logical and plausible, was only the more intense. In this fact one sees all the loyalty and all the greatness of his comprehensive mind.
The materialistic conclusions of Haeckel could have no influence on his own ideas, which came to him from a difterent science ; but he had a presentiment that in the indisputable discoveries of the naturalist he should find the surest basis of an evolutionary spiritualism and a rational theosophy.
He began, then, to study eagerly the History of Natural Creation. In it Haeckel gives a fascinating picture of the evolution of species, from the amoeba to man. In it he shows the successive growth of organs, and the physiological process by which living beings have raised themselves to organisms more and more complex and more and more perfect. But in this stupendous transformation, which implies millions and millions of years, he never
( 30 )
explains the initial force of this universal ascent, nor the series of special impulses which cause beings to rise step by step. To these primordial questions, Haeckel has never been able to reply except by admitting spontaneous generation,^ which is tantamount to a miracle as great as the creation of man by God from a clod of earth. To a theosophist like Steiner, on the other hand, the cosmic force which elaborates the world comprises in its spheres, fitted one into another, the myriads of souls which crystallise and incarnate ceaselessly in all beings. He, who saw the underside of creation, could but recognise and admire the extent of the all-round gaze with which Haeckel surveyed his above. It was in vain that the naturalist would deny the divine Author of the universal scheme : he proved
^ A speech delivered in Paris, 28th August 1878. See also Haeckel’s Histonj of Natural Creation^ 13th lecture.
( 31 )
it in spite of himself, in so well describ- ing His work. As to the theosophist, he greeted, in the surging of species and in the breath which urges them onward — Man in the making, the very thought of God, the visible expression of the planet- ary Word.^
While thus pursuing his studies, Rudolf Steiner recalled the saying of his Master ;
1 This is how Dr. Steiner himself describes the famous German naturalist : “ Haeckel’s personality is captivating. It is the most complete contrast to the tone of his writings. If Haeckel had but made a slight study of the philosophy of which he speaks, not even as a dilettante, but like a child, he would have drawn the most lofty siiiritual conclusions from his phylo- genetic studie.s. Haeckel’s doctrine is grand, but Haeckel himself is the worst of commentators on his doctrine. It is not by showing our contemporaries the weak points in Haeckel’s doctrine that we can promote intellectual progress, but by pointing out to them the grandeur of his phylogenetic thought.” Steiner has developed these ideas in two works : Welt und Lehensanscliauungen im \^ten Jahrliundert (Theories of the Universe and of Life in the Nineteenth Century), and Haeckel und seine Oegner (Haeckel and his Opponents).
( 32 )
“To conquer the dragon, his skin must be penetrated.” While stealing within the carapace of present-day materialism, he had seized his weapons. Henceforth he was ready for the combat. He needed but a field of action to give battle, and a powerful aid to uphold him therein. He was to find his field in the Theoso- phical Society, and his aid in a remarkable woman.
In 1897 Rudolf Steiner went to Berlin to conduct a literary magazine and to give lectures there.
On his arrival, he found there a branch of the Theosophical Society. The German branch of this Society was always noted for its great independence, which is natural in a country of trans- cendental philosophy and of fastidious criticism. It had already made a con- siderable contribution to occult literature through the interesting periodical. The Sphinx, conducted by Dr. Hubbe-Schleiden,
( 33 )
and Dr. Carl du Prel’s book — Philosophie der Mystik. But, the leaders having re- tired, it was almost over with the group. Great discussions and petty wrangiings divided the theosophists beyond the Rhine. Should Rudolf Steiner enter the Theosophical Society ? This question forced itself urgently upon him, and it was of the utmost gravity, both for him- self and for his cause.
Through his first Master, through the brotherhood with which he was associated, and by his own innermost nature, Steiner belongs to another school of occultism, I mean to the esoteric Christianity of the West, and most especially to the Rosi- crucian initiation.
After mature consideration he resolved
to join the Theosophical Society of which
he became a member in 1902. He did
not, however, enter it as a pupil of the
Eastern tradition, but as an initiate
of Rosicrucian esotericism who gladly
3
( 34 )
recognised the profound depth of the Hindu Wisdom and offered it a brotherly hand to make a magnetic link between the two. He understood that the two traditions were not meant to contend with each other, but to act in concert, with complete independence, and thus to work for the common good of civilisation. The Hindu tradition, in fact, contains the greatest treasure of occult science as regards cosmogony and the prehistoric periods of humanity, while the tradition of Christian and Western esotericism looks from its immeasurable height upon the far-off future and the final destinies of our race. For the past contains and prepares the future, as the future issues from the past and completes it.
Rudolf Steiner was assisted in his work by a powerful recruit and one of inesti- mable value in the pi opagandist work that he was about to undertake.
Mile. Marie von Sivers, a Russian by
( 35 )
birth, and of an unusually varied cosmo- politan education (she writes and speaks Russian, French, German, and English equally well), had herself also reached Theosophy by other roads, after long seeking for the truth which illumines all because it illumines the very depths of our own being. The extreme refinement of her aristocratic nature, at once modest and proud, her great and delicate sensi- tiveness, the extent and balance of her intelligence, her artistic and mental endowments, all made her wonderfully fitted for the part of an agent and an
apostle. The Oriental theosophy had
*
attracted and delighted her without altogether convincing her. The lectures of Dr. Steiner gave her the light which convinces by casting its beams on all sides, as from a transplendent centre. Independent and free, she, like many Russians in good society, sought for some ideal work to which she could devote
( 36 )
all her energies. She had found it. Dr. Steiner having been appointed General Secretary of the German Section of the Theosophical Society, Mile. Marie von Sivers became his assistant. From that time, in spreading the work throughout Germany and the adjacent countries, she displayed a real genius for organisation, maintained with unwearied activity.
As for Kudolf Steiner, he had already given ample proof of his profound thought and his eloquence. He knew himself, and he was master of himself. But such faith, such devotion must have increased his energy a hundredfold, and given wings to his words. His writings on esoteric questions followed one another in rapid succession.^
1 Die Mystik, im Auf gauge des neuzeitUcheu Geistes- lebens (1901) ; Das Christentum als mystische Tat- sache (1902) ; Tlieosophie (1904). He is now pre- paring an important book, which will no doubt be his chief work, and which is to be called Geheimioissenschaft (Occult Science).
( 37 )
He delivered lectures in Berlin, Leipzig, Cassel, Munich, Stuttgart, Vienna, Buda- pest, etc. All his books are of a high standard. He is equally skilled in the deduction of ideas in philosophical order, and in rigorous analysis of scientific facts. And when he so chooses, he can give a poetical form to his thought, in original and striking imagery. But his whole self is shown only by his presence and his
t
speech, private or public. The character- istic of his eloquence is a singular force, always gentle in expression, resulting undoubtedly from perfect serenity of soul combined with wonderful clearness of mind. Added to this at times is an inner and mysterious vibration which makes itself felt by the listener from the very first words. Never a word that could shock or jar. From argument to argu- ment, from analogy to analogy, he leads you on from the known to the unknown. Whether following up the comparative
( 38 )
development of the earth and of man, according to occult tradition, through the Lemurian, Atlantean, Asiatic, and European periods ; whether explaining the physiological and psychic constitution of man as he now is ; whether enumerat- ing the stages of Eosicrucian initiation, or commenting on the Gospel of St. John and the Apocalypse, or applying his root- ideas to mythology, history, and literature, that which dominates and guides his discourse is ever this power of synthesis, which co-ordinates facts under one ruling idea and gathers them together in one harmonious vision. And it is ever this inward and contagious fervour, this secret music of the soul, which is, as it were, a subtle melody in liarmony with the Universal Soul.
Such, at least, is what I felt on first meeting him and listening to him two years ago. I could not better describe this undefinable feeling than by recalling
( 39 )
the saying of a poet-friend to whom I was showing the portrait of the German theosophist. Standing before those deep and clear-seeing eyes, before that counte- nance, hollowed by inward struggles, moulded by a lofty spirit which has proved its balance on the heights and its calm in the depths, my friend exclaimed : “ Behold a master of himself and of life !
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THE WAY OF INITIATION
I
THE SUPERPHYSICAL WORLD AND ITS GNOSIS'
It is natural that most people, who hear of transcendental truths in our time, should at once put the question : “ How may we attain to such knowledge for our- selves?” Indeed, it is often remarked as a characteristic of people to-day, that they
^ Translated from Lucifer-Gnosis (May to Dec. 1904), a theosophical magazine, published by M. Altmann, Leipzig, and edited by Dr. Rudolf Steiner (17 Motz- strasse, Berlin, W.). This translation appeared first in the Theosophist (October 1907 -June 1908), a magazine of Brotherhood, of Comparative Religion, Philosophy and Science, and of Occultism. Edited by Annie Besant, President of the Theosophical Society, Adyar, Madras.
41
( 42 )
will accept nothing on faith, on mere
authority,” but wish rather to rely en- tirely upon their own judgment. And therefore it is that when mystics and theosophists profess to know something of the superphysical nature of man, and of the destiny of the human soul and spirit before birth and after death, they are at once confronted with this funda- mental demand of our day. Such dogmas, they seem to say, have only an importance for anyone when you have shown him the way by which he may convince himself of their truth.
This demand is quite justified ; and never could any true mystic or theosophist fail to recognise it. But it is equally cer- tain that with many who make it, there exists a feeling of scepticism or antagonism toward the assertions of the mystic. This feeling becomes especially marked when the mystic sets out by intimating how the truths which he has described may be
( 43 )
attained. For then people often say to him : What is true may be demonstrated ; therefore, prove to us what you assert.” Furthermore, they imply that the truth must be something clear and simple, something which a ‘^modest” intellect may comprehend ; surely, they seem to say, it cannot be the possession of a chosen few, to whom it is given by a “ special revelation ” ! And in this way the messenger of transcendental truths is frequently confronted with people who reject him, because — unlike the scientist, for example — he can produce no proofs for his assertions, of such a nature as they can themselves understand. Again, there are some who more cautiously reject these matters, but who, nevertheless, refuse any close connection with them because, they think, they do not seem reasonable. Thereupon they soothe themselves^ though not entirely, by saying that we cannot know anything of what lies beyond birth
( 44 )
or death, of what we cannot perceive with our senses.
These are but a few of the conceptions and criticisms with which to-day the messenger of a spiritual philosophy has to deal. But they are similar to all those that compose the key-note of our time. And he who puts himself at the service of a spiritual movement must, recognise this key-note quite clearly.
For his own part, the mystic is aware that his knowledge rests upon superphysi- cal facts ; just as facts, for example, form the foundation of the experiences and observations described by a traveller in Africa. To the mystic applies what Annie Besant has said in her manual, “ Death — and After?''
“ A seasoned African explorer would care but little for the criticisms passed on his report by persons who had never been thither ; he might tell what he saw, describe the animals whose habits he had studied, sketch the country he
( 45 )
had traversed, sum up its products and its characteristics. If he was contradicted, laughed at, set right, by untravelled critics, he would be neither ruffled nor distressed, but would merely leave them alone. Ignorance cannot convince knowledge by repeated asseveration of its nescience. The opinion of a hundred persons on a subject of which they are wholly ignorant is of no more weight than the opinion of one such person. Evidence is strengthened by many consenting witnesses, testifying each to his knowledge of a fact, but nothing multiplied a thousand times remains nothing.”
Here is expressed the mystic’s view of himself. He hears the objections which are raised on every side, yet he knows that he has no need to dispute them. He realises that his certain knowledge is being criticised by those who have not experienced or felt as he himself has done. He is in the position of a mathematician who has discovered a truth which loses no value though a thousand voices are raised in opposition.
Here at once will arise the objection of
{ 46 )
the sceptic : “ Mathematical truths may be proved to anyone,” he will say, “ and though perhaps you have really found something, I shall only accept it when I have learnt of its truth by my own observation.” Then he considers him- self to be in the right, because, as he thinks, it is clear that anyone who acquires the necessary knowledge can prove a mathematical truth, while the experiences professed by the mystic depend upon the special faculties of a few elect people, whom he is expected to believe blindly.
But for him who rightly considers this objection, any justification for the doubt immediately vanishes. For every true mystic will here speak just like the very sceptics themselves. He will always emphasise the truth that the way to the Higher Knowledge is open for anyone who has acquired for himself the faculties by which he may win entrance. The mystic asserts nothing which his oppo-
( 47 )
nents would not also be compelled to assert, if they did but fully understand what they are saying. They, however, in making an assertion, at once formulate a claim which constitutes a direct contradiction of their own assertion.
Sceptics are not content to test the assertions of the mystic only when they have acquired the necessary faculties, but rather judge him according to their present faculties, and not with those which he is bound to demand. He says' to them : “I do not claim to be ‘chosen’ in the sense that you mean. I have merely worked witliin myself, in order to acquire these powers through which it is possible to speak of glimpses into superphysical regions. But these faculties are dormant within everyone, only they must be de- veloped.” But his opponents then answer : “You must prove your truths to us as we are now.” They will not meet his demand that they should develop, first, the dor-
( 48 )
mant powers within them, but rather, without being willing to do so, insist that he shall give them proofs. Nor do they see that this is exactly as if a peasant at his plough should demand of the mathe- matician the proof of a complicated problem without first undergoing the trouble of learning mathematics.
All this appears to be so simple that one almost hesitates to speak of it. And yet it indicates a delusion under which millions of people at the present time are living. If one explains it to them they always agree with it in theory, since it is quite as obvious as that two and two make four. Yet in practice they continu- ally contradict it. One can very soon convince oneself of that. The mistake has become second nature with many ; they practise it without any longer realising that they do so, without desiring to be convinced of it, just as they offend against everything which they would at all times
( 49 )
allow to pass for a principle of the simplest nature, could they only consider it quietly. It matters not whether the mystic of to- day moves in a circle of thinking artisans, or in a more educated circle, for wherever he goes he meets with the same prejudice, the same self-contradiction. One finds it in popular lectures, in all the newspapers and magazines, and even in more learned works or treatises.
And here we must recognise quite clearly that we are dealing tvith a sign of the time which we cannot simply consider as mere incompetency, nor expose as criti- cism, correct perhaps, but nevertheless not just. We must understand that this symptom, this prejudice against the higher truths, lies deep in the very being of our age. We must understand clearly that the great successes, the immense advance, which distinguish it, necessarily tend to- ward this mistake. The nineteenth century
especially had in this respect a dark side
4
( 50 )
to its wonderful excellences. Its greatness rests upon its discoveries in the external world, and its conquest of natural forces for technical and industrial purposes. These successes could only have been attained by the observation of the senses, and afterwards by the employment of the mind upon what the senses had thus per- ceived. The civilisation of the present day is the result of the training of our senses, and of that part of our mind which is occupied with the world of sense. Almost every step we take in the street to-day, shows us how much we owe to this kind of training. And it is under the influence of these blessings of civilisation that the habits of thought prevalent among our fellow-men of to-day have been de- veloped. They continue to abide by the senses and the mind, because it is by means of these that they have grown great. People were taught to train them- selves to admit nothing as true except
( 51 )
those things that were presented to them by the senses or the mind. And nothing is more apt to claim for itself the only valid testimony, the only absolute authority, than the mind or the senses. If a man has acquired by means of them a certain degree of culture, he thenceforth accustoms himself to submit everything to their con- sideration, everything to their criticism. And again in another sphere, in the domain of Social Life, we find a similar trait. The man of the nineteenth century insisted, in the fullest sense of the word, upon the absolute freedom of personality, and repudiated any authority in the Social Commonwealth. He endeavoured to con- struct the community in such a way that the full independence, the self-chosen vocation of each individual, should, with- out interference, be assured. In this way it became habitual for him to consider everything from the standpoint of the average individual. The higher powers
( )
which lie dormant in the soul may be developed' by one person in this direction, by another in that. One will make more progress, another less. When they develop such powers, or when they attach any value to them, men begin to differentiate themselves. One must also, if one admits their existence, allow to the man who has progressed further, more right to speak on a subject, or to act in a certain way, than to another who is less advanced. But with regard to the senses and the mind, one may employ an average stand- ard. All have there the same rights, the same liberty.
It is also noticeable that the present formation of the Social Commonwealth has helped to bring about a revolt against the higher powers of man. According to the mystic, civilisation during the nine- teenth century has altogether moved along physical lines ; and people have accus- tomed themselves to move on the physical
( 53 )
plane alone, and to feel at home there. The higher powers are only developed on planes other than the physical, and the knowledge which these faculties bring has, therefore, become alien to man. It is only necessary to attend mass-meetings, if one wishes to be convinced of the fact that the speakers there are totally unable to think any thoughts but those which refer to the physical plane, the world of sense. This can also be seen among the leading journalists of our papers and magazines ; and, indeed, on all sides one can observe the haughtiest and most complete denial of everything that cannot be seen with the eyes, or felt with the hands, or compre- hended by the average mind. Once more let it be said that we do not condemn this attitude. It denotes a necessary stage in the development of humanity. Without the pride and prejudices of mind and sense, we should never have achieved our great conquests over material life, nor
( 54 )
have been able to impart to the person- ality a certain measure of elasticity : neither could we hope that many ideals, which must be founded on man’s desire for freedom and the assertion of person- ality, might yet be realised.
But this dark side of a purely material- istic civilisation has deeply affected the whole being of the modern man. For proof it is not necessary to refer to the obvious facts already named ; it would be easy to demonstrate by certain examples which are lightly underrated, especially tO'day, how deeply rooted in the mind of the modern man is this adhesion to the testimony of the senses, or the average intelligence. And it is just these things that indicate the need for the renewal of spiritual life.
The strong response evoked by Pro- fessor Friedrich Delitzsch’s Babel and Bible Theory fully justifies a reference to its author’s method of thinking, as a sign of
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the time. Professor Delitzsch has demon- strated the relationship of certain tradi- tions in the Old Testament to the Baby- lonian accounts of the Creation, and this fact, coming from such a source and in such a form, has been realised by many who would otherwise have ignored such questions. It has led many to reconsider the so-called idea of Kevelation. They ask themselves : How is it possible to accept the idea that the contents of the Old Testament were revealed by God, when we find very similar conceptions among decidedly heathen nations ? This problem cannot here be further discussed. Delitzsch found many opponents who feared lest, through his exposition, the very foundations of Religion had been shaken. He has defended himself in a pamphlet, Babel and Bible, a Retrospect and a Forecast. Here we shall only refer to a single sentence in the pamphlet. It is an important sentence, because it
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reveals the view of an eminent man of science regarding the position of man with respect to transcendental truths. And to-day innumerable other people think and feel just like Delitzsch. The sentence affords an excellent opportunity for us to find out what is the innermost convic- tion of our contemporaries, expressed here quite freely and therefore in its truest form.
Delitzsch turns to those who reproach him with a somewhat liberal use of the term “ Revelation,” who would fain regard it as “a kind of old priestly wisdom ” which “ has nothing at all to do with the layman.” In opposition to this he says :
“ For my part, I am of opinion that while our children or ourselves are instructed in school or at church as regards Revelation, not only are we within our right, but it is our duty, to think independently concerning these deep questions, possessing also, as they do, an eminently prac- tical side, were it only that we might avoid
( 57 )
giving our children ‘evasive’ answers. For this very reason it will be gratifying to many searchers after Truth when the dogma of a special ‘ choosing ’ of Israel shall have been brought forward into the light of a wider his- torical outlook, through the union of Babylonian, Assyrian, and Old Testament research. ... [A few pages earlier we are shown the direction of such thoughts.] For the rest, it would seem to me that the only logical thing is for Church and School to be satisfied as regards the whole past history of the world and of humanity, with the belief in One Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth, and that these tales of the Old Testament should be classified by them- selves under some such title as ‘ Old Hebraic Myths.’ ”
(It may be taken as a matter of course, we suppose, that no one will see in the following remarks an attack on the investigator Delitzsch.) What, then, is here said in naive simplicity ? Nothing less than that the mind which is engaged upon physical investigation may assert the right of judging experiences of super- physical nature. There is no thought
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that this mind, without further prepar- ing itself, may perhaps be unfit to reflect upon the teachings of these “ Eevelations.” When one wishes to understand what appears as a “ Revelation,” one cannot do so unless one brings to bear upon it those forces out of which the ‘^Revelation” itself has come.
He who develops within himself the mystical power of perception soon observes that in certain stories of the Old Testa- ment which were called by Delitzsch “ Old Hebraic Myths,” there are revealed to him truths of a higher nature than those which may be comprehended by the intellect, which is only concerned with the things of sense. His own mystical experiences will lead him to see that these “ Myths ” have proceeded out of a mystical percep- tion of transcendental truths. And then, in one moment, his whole point of view is changed.
As little as one can demonstrate the
( 59 )
fallacy of a mathematical problem by discovering who solved it first, or even that several people have solved it — which would certainlv be a valuable historical discovery — just so little can one impugn the truth of a biblical narrative by the discovery of a similar story elsewhere. Instead of demanding that everyone should insist upon his right, or even his duty, to think independently on the so- called “ Revelations,” we ought rather to consider that only he has a right to decide anything about the matter who has developed in himself those latent powers which make it possible for him to re-live what was once realised by those very mystics who proclaimed the “ supersen- suous revelations.”
Here we have an excellent example of how the average intellect, qualified for the highest triumphs in practical sense- knowledge, sets itself up, in naive pride, as a judge in domains, the existence of which
( 60 )
it does not even care to learn. For purely historical investigation is also carried on by nothing but the experience of the senses.
In just the same way has the investi- gation of the New Testament led us into a blind alley. At all costs the method of the “Newer Historical Investigation ” had to be directed upon the Gospels. These docu- ments have been compared with each other, and brought into relation with all sorts of things, in order that we might find out what really happened in Palestine from the year 1 to the year 33 ; how the “ historical personality ” of whom they tell really lived, and what He can really have said.
Now a man of the seventeenth century, Angelus Silesius, has already expressed the whole of the critical attitude toAvard this kind of investigation :
“ Though Christ were yearly born in Bethlehem, and never
Had birth in you yourself, then were you lost for ever ;
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And if within yourself it is not reared again,
The Cross at Golgotha can save you not from pain. ”
Nor are these the words of one who doubted, but of a Christian, strong in his belief And his equally fervent pre- decessor, Meister Eckhart, said in the thirteenth century :
“ There are some who desire to see God with their eyes, as they look at a cow ; and just as they love a cow, so they desire to love God. . . . Simple-minded people imagine that God may be seen as if He stood there and they stood here. But this is not so : in that perception, God and I are one.”
These words must emphatically not be directed against the investigation of “ historical truth.” Yet no one can rightly understand the historic truth of such docu- ments as the Gospels, unless he has first experienced within himself the mystical meaning which they contain. All such comparisons and analyses are quite worth- less, for no one can discover who was
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“ born in Bethlehem ” but he who has mystically experienced the Christ within himself ; neither can anyone in whom it has not already been erected, decide how it is that ‘‘the Cross at Golgotha” can deliver us from pain. Purely historical investigation “ can discover no more concerning the mystic reality than the dismembering anatomist, perhaps, can discover the secret of a great poetical genius.” (See my book. Das Christentum als mystische Tatsache, Berlin, C. A. Schwetschke und Sohn, 1902, or its French translation, mentioned on page 1.)
He who can see clearly in these matters is aware how deeply rooted, at the present time, is the “ pride ” of the intellect, which only concerns itself with the facts of sense. It says : “I do not wish to develop faculties in order that I may reach the higher truths ; I wish to form my decisions concerning them with the powers that I now possess.”
( 63 )
In a well-meant pamphlet, which is written, however, entirely in that spirit of the age which we have already indi- cated {What do we know about Jesus by A. Kalthoff, Berlin, 1904), we read as follows :
“ Christ, who symbolises the life of the Com- munity, may be discerned within himself by the man of to-day : out of his own soul the man of to-day can create Christ just as well as the author of a gospel created him ; as a man he may put himself in the same position as the gospel-writers, because he can reinstate himself into the same soul-processes, can himself speak or write Gospel.”
These words may be true, but they may also be entirely erroneous. They are true when understood in the sense of Aimelus
O
Silesius, or of Meister Eckhart, when they are referred to the development of powers dormant in every human soul, which, from some such idea, endeavours to experience within itself the Christ of the Gospels. They are altogether wrong, if a more or
( 64 )
less shallow ideal of the Christ is thus created out of the spirit of an age that acknowledges the truth of no perceptions but those of the senses.
The life of the Spirit can only be under- stood when we do not wish to criticise it with the lower mind, but rather to develop ourselves for it internally. No one can hope to learn anything of the highest truths accessible to man, if he demands that they shall be lowered to the “average understanding.” To this it might be ob- jected : Why, then, do you, mystics and theosophists, proclaim these truths to people who, as you declare, cannot as yet understand. them ? Why should there be a Theosophical Movement which proclaims certain teachings, when the powers which bring men to the preception of them ought first to be developed?
It is the task of this book to solve this apparent contradiction. It will show that the spiritual currents of our day speak
( 65 )
from a different basis, in a different manner, from the science which relies entirely on the lower intellect. Yet, in spite of this, the spiritual currents are not less scientific than the science which is based upon physical facts alone. Kather do they extend the field of scientific in- vestigation into the superphysical. We must close this chapter with one more question, which will perhaps be asked : How can one attain to superphysical truths, and, towards this attainment, of what help are spiritual movements?
5
II
HOW TO ATTAIN KNOWLEDGE OF THE HIGHER WORLDS
In every man there are latent faculties by means of which he can acquire for himself knowledge of the higher worlds. The mystic, theosophist, or gnostic speaks of a soul-world and a spirit-world, which are, for him, just as real as the world which we see with our physical eyes, or touch with our physical hands. At every moment his listener may say to himself : What he speaks about I too can learn, when I have developed within myself certain powers which to-day lie slumber- ing within me. There remains only the
question as to how one has to commence
66
( 67 )
in order to develop within oneself such faculties. For this only those can give advice who have already developed such powers within themselves. As long as the human race has existed, there have always been schools in which those who possessed these higher faculties gave instruction to those who were in search of them. Such are called the occult schools, and the instruction which is imparted therein is called esoteric science, or occult teaching. Such a designation naturally awakens misunderstanding. He who hears it may be very easily misled into the belief that those who work in these schools desire to represent a special, privileged class, which arbitrarily with- holds its knowledge from its fellow- creatures. Indeed, he may even think, that perhaps there is nothing really impor- tant behind such knowledge. For he is tempted to think that, if it were a true knowledge, there would then be no need
( 68 )
to make a secret about it : one might then communicate it publicly and open up its advantages to all men.
Those who have been initiated into the nature of the occult knowledge are not in the least surprised that the uninitiated should so think. Only he who has to a certain degree experienced this initiation into the higher secrets of being can under- stand the secret of that initiation. But it may be asked : How, then, shall the uninitiated, considering the circumstances, develop any interest at all in this so-called occult knowledge ? How and why ought they to search for something of whose nature they can form no idea ? But such a question is based upon an entirely erroneous conception of the real nature of occult knowledge. There is, in truth, no difference between occult knowledge and all the rest of man's knowledge and capacity. This occult knowledge is no more of a secret for the average man than
( 69 )
writing is a secret to him who has never learned to read. And just as everyone who chooses the correct method may learn to write, so too can everyone who searches after the right way become a disciple, and even a teacher. In only one respect are the conditions here different from those that apply to external thought- activities. The possibility of acquiring the art of writing may be withheld from someone through poverty, or through the state of civilisation into which he has been born ; but for the attainment of knowledge in the higher worlds there is no obstacle for him who sincerely searches for it.
Many believe that one has to find, here or there, the Masters of the higher know- ledge, in order to receive enlightenment from them. In the first place, he who strives earnestlv after the higher know- ledge need not be afraid of any difficulty or obstacle in his search for an Initiate
( 70 )
who shall be able to lead him into the profounder secrets of the world. Every- one, on the contrary, may be certain that an Initiate will find him out, under any circumstances, if there is in him an earnest and worthy endeavour to attain this knowledge. For it is a strict law amongst all Initiates to withhold from no man the knowledge that is due to him. But there is an equally strict law which insists that no one shall re- ceive any occult knowledge until he is worthy. And the more strictly he observes these two laws, the more per- fect is an Initiate. The order which embraces all Initiates is surrounded, as it were, by a wall, and the two laws here mentioned form two strong principles by which the constituents of this wall are held together. You may live in close friendship with an Initiate, yet this wall will separate him from you just as long as you have not become an Initiate yourself.
( 71 )
You may enjoy in the fullest sense the heart, the love of an Initiate, yet he will only impart to you his secret when you yourself are ready for it. You may flatter him ; you may torture him ; nothing will induce him to divulge to you anything which he knows ought not to be disclosed, inasmuch as you, at the present stage of your evolution, do not understand how rightly to receive the secret into your soul.
The ways which prepare a man for the reception of a secret are clearly prescribed. They are indicated by the unfading, ever- lasting letters within the temples where the Initiates guard the higher secrets. In ancient times, anterior to “ history,” these temples were outwardly visible ; to-day, because our lives have become so un- spiritual, they are mostly quite invisible to external sight. Yet they are present everywhere, and all who seek may find them.
( 72 )
Only within his soul may a man dis- cover the means which will open for him the lips of the Initiate. To a certain high degree he must develop within himself special faculties, and then the greatest treasures of the Spirit become his own.
He must begin with a certain funda- mental attitude of the soul : the student of Occultism calls it the Path of Devotion, of Veneration. Only he who maintains this attitude can, in Occultism, become a disciple. And he who has experience in these things is able to perceive even in the child the signs of approaching disciple- ship. There are children who look up with religious awe to those they venerate. For such people they have a respect which forbids them to admit even in the inner- most sanctuary of the heart any thought of criticism or opposition. Such children grow up into young men and maidens who feel happy when they are able to look up to anything venerable. From the
( 73 )
ranks of such children are recruited many disciples.
Have you ever paused outside the door of some venerated man, and have you, on this your first visit, felt a religious awe as you pressed the handle, in order to enter the room which for you is a holy place ? Then there has been manifested in you an emotion which may be the germ of your ' future discipleship. It is a blessing for every developing person to have such emotions upon which to build. Only it must not be thought that such qualities are the germ of submissiveness and slavery. Experience teaches us that those can best hold their heads erect who hitve learnt to venerate where veneration is due. And veneration is always in its place when it rises from the depths of the heart.
If we do not develop within ourselves this deeply-rooted feeling that there is something higher than ourselves, we shall
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never find enough strength to evolve to something higher. The Initiate has only acquired the power of lifting his intellect to the heights of knowledge by guiding his heart into the depths of veneration and devotion. The heights of the Spirit can only be reached by passing through the portals of humility. You can only acquire right knowledge when you have learnt to esteem it. Man has certainly the right to gaze upon the Keality, but he must first acquire this right. There are laws in the spiritual life, as in the physical life. Eub a glass rod with an appropriate material and it will become electric, that is to say, it will receive the power of attracting small bodies. This exemplifies natural law. And if one has learnt even a little of physics, one knows this. Similarly, if one is acquainted with the first principles of Occultism, one knows that every feel- ing of true devotion which opens out in the soul, develops a power which may,
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sooner or later, lead to the Path of Know- ledge.
He who possesses within himself this feeling of devotion, or who is fortunate enough to receive it from his education, brings a great deal along with him, when, later in life, he seeks an entrance to the higher knowledge. But he who brings no such preparation will find himself con- fronted with difficulties even upon the first step of the Path of Knowledge, un- less he undertakes, by rigorous self-educa- tion, to create the devotional mood within himself. In our time it is especially im- portant that full attention be given to this point. Our civilisation tends much more towards criticism, the giving of judgments, and so forth, than toward devotion, and a selfless veneration. Our children already criticise far more than they worship. But every judgment, every carping criticism, frustrates the powers of the soul for the attainment of the higher knowledge, in
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the same measure that all heartfelt de- votion develops them. In this we do not wish to say anything against our civilisa- tion. It is in no way a question of passing a criticism upon it. It is just to this critical faculty, this self-conscious human judgment, this “prove all things and hold fast the good,” that we owe the greatness of our civilisation. We could never have attained to the science, the commerce, the industry, the law of our time, had we not exercised our critical faculty everywhere, had we not everywhere applied the stand- ard of our judgment. But what we have thereby gained in external culture we have had to pay for with a corresponding loss of the higher knowledge, of the spiritual life.
Now the one thing that everyone must clearly understand is that for him who is right in the centre of the objective civilisation of our time, it is very difficult to advance to the knowledge of the higher
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worlds. He can only do so if he work energetically within himself. At a time when the conditions of outward life were simpler, spiritual exaltation was easier of attainment. That which ought to be venerated, that which ought to be kept holy, stood out in better relief from the ordinary things of the world. In a period of criticism these ideals are lowered ; other emotions take the place of veneration, respect, prayer, and wonder. Our own age continually pushes these emotions further and further back, so that in the daily life of the people they play but a very small part. He who seeks for higher knowledge must create it within himself ; he must himself instil it into his soul. It cannot be done by study : it can only be done through life. He who wishes to become a disciple must therefore as- siduously cultivate the devotional mood. Everywhere in his environment he must look for that which demands of him ad-
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miration and homage. Whenever his duties or circumstances permit, he should try to renounce entirely all criticism or judgment. If I meet a man and blame him for his weakness, I rob myself of power to win the higher knowledge ; but if I try to enter lovingly into his merits, I then gather such power. The disciple must continually try to follow out this advice. Experienced occultists are aware how much they owe to the continual searching for the good in all things, and the withholding of all carping criticism. This must not remain only as an external rule of life ; rather must it take possession of the innermost part of our souls. We have it in our power to perfect ourselves, and by and by to transform ourselves completely. But this transformation must take place in the innermost self, in the mental life. It is not enough that I show respect only in my outward bearing to- ward a person ; I must have this respect
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in my thought. The disciple must begin by drawing this devotion into his thought- life. He must altogether banish from his consciousness all thoughts of disrespect, of criticism, and he must endeavour straightway to cultivate thoughts of de- votion.
Every moment in which we set ourselves to banish from our consciousness whatever remains in it of disparaging, suspicious judgment of our fellow-men, every such moment brings us nearer to the knowledge of higher things. And we rise rapidly when, in such moments, we fill our con- sciousness only with thoughts that evoke in us admiration, respect, and veneration for men and things. He who has experi- ence in these matters will know that in every such moment powers are awakened in man which otherwise remain dormant. In this way the spiritual eyes of a man are opened. He begins to see things around him which hitherto he was unable
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to see. He begins to understand that hitherto he had only seen a part of the world around him. The man with whom he comes in contact now shows him quite a different aspect from what he showed before. Of course, he will not yet, through this rule of life alone, be able to see what has elsewhere been described as the human aura, because, for that, a still higher train- ing is necessary. But he can rise to this higher training if he has previously gone through a thorough training in devotion.*
Noiseless and unnoticed by the outer world is the treading of the “ Path of Discipleship.’' It is not necessary that anyone should notice a change in the disciple. He does his duties as hitherto ;
* In the last chapter of the book entitled Theo- sophie (Berlin, C. A. Schwetschke und Sohn), Dr. Rudolf Steiner fully describes this “ Path of Know- ledge” ; here it is only intended to give some practical details.
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he attends to his business as before. The transformation goes on only in the inner part of the soul, hidden from outward sight. At first the entire soul-life of a man is flooded by this fundamental mood of devotion for everything which is truly venerable. His entire soul-life finds in this fundamental mood its pivot. Just as the sun, through its rays, will vivify every- thing living, so in the life of the disciple this reverence vivifies all the perceptions of the soul.
At first it is not easy for people to believe that feelings like reverence, respect, and so forth, have anything to do with their perceptions. This comes from the fact that one is inclined to think of per- ception as a faculty quite by itself, one that stands in no relation to what other- wise happens in the soul. In so thinking, we do not remember that it is the soul which perceives. And feelings are for the
soul what food is for the body. If we
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give the body stones in place of bread its \ activity will cease. It is the same with the soul. Veneration, homage, devotion, are as nutriment which makes it healthy and strong, and especially strong for the activity of perception. Disrespect, anti- pathy, and under-estimation, bring about the starvation and withering of this activity. For the occultist this fact is visible in the aura. A soul which harbours the feelings of devotion and reverence, brings about a change in its aura. Certain yellowish-red or brown-red tints will vanish, and tints of bluish-red will replace them. And then the organ of perception opens. It receives infor- mation of facts in its neighbourhood of which hitherto it had no knowledge. Eeverence awakens a sympathetic power in the soul, and through this we attract similar qualities in the beings which surround us, which would otherwise remain hidden. More effective still is
that power which can be obtained by devotion when another feeling is added. One learns to give oneself up less and less to the impressions of the outer world, and to develop in its place a vivid inward life. He who darts from one impression of the outer world to another, who constantly seeks dissipations, cannot find the way to Occultism. The disciple must not blunt himself to the outer world ; but his rich inner life will point out the direction in which he ought to lend him- self to its impressions. When passing through a beautiful mountain district, the man with depth of soul and richness of emotion has different experiences from the man with few emotions. Only what we experience within ourselves opens up the beauties of the outer world. One man sails across the ocean, and only a few inward experiences pass through his soul : but another will then hear the eternal language of the World-Spirit, and
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for him are unveiled the mysteries of- creation.
One must have learnt to control one’s own feelings and ideas if one wishes to develop any intimate relationship with the outer world. Every phenomenon in that outer world is full of divine splendour, but one must have felt the Divine within oneself before one can hope to discover it without. The disciple is told to set apart certain moments of his daily life during which to withdraw into himself, quietly and alone. But at such times he ought not to occupy himself with his own per sonal affairs, for this would bring about the contrary of that which he is aiming at. During these moments he ought rather to listen in complete silence to the echoes of what he has experienced, of what the outward world has told him. Then, in these periods of quiet, every flower, every animal, every action will unveil to him secrets undreamed of, and
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thus will be prepare himself to receive new impressions of the external world, as if he viewed it with difterent eyes. For he who merely desires to enjoy impression after impression, only stultifies the per- . ceptive faculty, while he who lets the enjoyment afterwards reveal something to him, thus enlarges and educates it. But he must be careful not merely to let the enjoyment reverberate, as it were ; but, renouncing any further enjoyment, rather to work upon his pleasurable experiences with an inward activity. The danger at this point is very great. Instead of work- ing within oneself, it is easy to fall into the opposite habit of afterwards trying to completely exhaust the enjoyment. Let us not undervalue the unforeseen sources of error which here confront the disciple. He must of necessity pass thioiigh a host of temptations, each of which tends only to harden his Ego and to imprison it within itself. He ought to open it wide
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for the whole world. It is necessary that he should seek enjoyment, for in this way only can the outward world get at him ; and if he blunts himself to enjoyment he becomes as a plant which cannot any longer draw nourishment from its environ- ment. Yet, if he stops at the enjoyment, he is then shut up within himself, and will only be something to himself and nothing to the world. However much he may live within himself, however intensely he may cultivate his Ego, the world will exclude him. He is dead to the world. But the disciple considers enjoyment only as a means of ennobling himself for the world. Pleasure is to him as a scout who informs him concerning the world, and after having been taught by pleasure he passes on to work. He does not learn in order that he may accumulate learning as his own treasure, but in order that he may put his learning at the service of the world.
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In all forms of Occultism there is a fundamental principle which cannot be transgressed, if any goal at all is to be reached. Every occult teacher must impress it upon his pupils, and it runs as follows : Every branch of knowledge which you seek only to enrich your own learning, only to accumulate treasure for yourself leads you away from the Path : hut all knowledge which you seek for work- ing in the service of humanity and for the uplifting of the world, brings you a step forward. This law must be rigidly observed ; nor is one a genuine disciple until he has adopted it as the guide for his whole life. In many occult schools this truth is expressed in the following short sentence : Every idea which does not become an ideal for you, slays a power in your soul : every idea which becomes an ideal creates within you living powers.
Ill
THE PATH OF DISCIPLESHIP
At the very beginning of his course the student is directed to the Path of Rever- ence, and the development of the inner life. But the occult teaching also gives practical instructions by the observance of which he may learn to tread that Path and develop that inner life. These prac- tical directions have no arbitrary basis. They rest on ancient experience and ancient wisdom, and wheresoever the ways to higher knowledge are marked out, they remain of the same nature. All genuine teachers of Occultism are in agreement as to the essential character of these rules,
although they do not always express
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them in the same words. This difference, which is of a minor character and is more apparent than real, is due to cir- cumstances which need not be touched on here.
No teacher wishes by means of such rules to establish an ascendency over other persons. He would not tamper with individual independence. Indeed, no one respects and cherishes human indi- viduality more than the teachers of Oc- cultism. It was said (in the first part of this book) that the order which embraces all Initiates was surrounded by a wall, and that two laws formed the principles by which it was upheld. Whenever the Initiate leaves this enclosure and steps forth into the world, he must submit to a third inviolable law. It is this : Keep watch over each of your actions and each of your words, in order that you may not hinder the free-will of any human being. Those who recognise that genuine occult
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teachers are thoroughly permeated with this principle will understand that they need sacrifice none of their independence by the practical directions which they are advised to follow.
One of the first of these rules may be thus expressed in our language : “ Pro- vide for yourself moments of inward calm, and in these moments learn to distinguish between the real and the unreal!' I say advisedly “ expressed in our language,” because originally all rules and teach- ings of occult science were expressed in a symbolical sign-language. Those who desire to master its whole scope and meaning must first obtain permission to learn this symbolical language, and before this permission can be obtained, it is necessary to have taken the first steps in occult knowledge. This may be achieved by the careful observance of such rules as are here given. The Path stands open to all who earnestly will to enter it.
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Simple, in truth, is the rule concerning moments of inner calm, and easy it is to follow ; but it only leads to the goal when the pursuit is as earnest and strict as the way is simple. I will, therefore, state without further preamble the method in which this rule should be observed.
The student must mark off a small part of his daily life in which to occupy himself with something quite different from the avocations of his ordinary life, and the way in which he occupies himself at such a time must also differ from the way in which he performs the rest of his duties. But this does not mean that what he does in the time thus set apart has no connec- tion with his daily work. On the contrary, the man who seeks such moments in the right way will soon find that it is just this which gives him the full power to do his daily task. Nor must it be supposed that the observance of this rule really deprives anyone of time needed for the perform-
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ance of his duties. If any person really has no more time at his disposal^ jive minutes a day will suffice. The real point is the manner in which these five minutes are spent.
At these periods a man should raise himself completely above his work-a-day life. His thoughts and feelings must take on a different colouring. His joys and sorrows, his cares, experiences, and actions, must pass in review before his soul. And he must cultivate a frame of mind which enables him to regard all his other experi- ences from a higher point of view. We need only bear in mind how different is the point of view from which in ordinary life we regard the experiences and actions of another, and that from which we judge our own. This is inevitable, for we are interwoven with our own actions and experiences, while we only contemplate those of another. Our aim in these moments of retirement must be to con-
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template and judge our own experiences and actions as though it were not our- selves but some other person to whom they applied. Suppose, for example, that a • certain misfortune has befallen someone. What a different attitude that person takes towards it as compared with an identical misfortune that has befallen his neighbour ! No one can blame this atti- tude as unjustifiable ; it is a part of human nature. And just as it is in ex- ceptional circumstances, so it is also in the daily affairs of life. The student must endeavour to attain the power of regarding himself at certain times as he would regard a stranger. He must contemplate himself with the inward calm of the critic. When this is attained, our own experiences present themselves in a new light. As long as we are interwoven with them and are, as it were, inside them, we are as closely connected with the unreal as with the real. When we attain to a calm
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survey, the real is separated from the unreal. Sorrow and joy, every thought, every resolve, appear changed when we contemplate ourselves in this way. It is as though we had spent the whole day in a place where we saw the smallest objects at the same range of vision as the largest ones, and in the evening climbed a neigh- bouring hill and surveyed the whole scene at once. Then the parts of the place take on proportions different from those they bore when seen from within. The value of such calm inward contemplation de- pends less on the actual thing we contem- plate than on the power which such inward calm develops in us.
For in every human being there is, besides what we call the work-a-day man, a higher being. This higher- being remains concealed until it is awakened. And each of us can only awaken it for himself. But as long as this higher being is not awakened, the higher faculties
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which lie dormant in every man and lead to supersensual knowledge, must remain hidden. This power which leads to inward calm is a magic force that sets free certain higher faculties. Until a seeker feels this magic force witlfln him, he must continue to follow strictly and earnestly the, rule here given. To every man who thus perseveres, the day will come when a spiritual light is revealed to him, and a whole new world, whose existence was hitherto unsuspected, is discerned by an eye within him.
There is no need for any outward change in the life of the student because he be- gins to follow this rule. He performs his duties as before, and at first he endures the same sorrows and experiences the same joys as of old. In no way does it estrange him from life, rather is he en- abled to devote himself to it the more completely, because in the moments set apart he has a Higher Life of his own.
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Gradually this Higher Life will make its influence felt on the ordinary life. The calm of the moments set apart will influence the ordinary existence as well. The whole man will grow calmer, will attain serenity in all his actions, and will cease to be perturbed by all manner of incidents. Gradually will a student who thus advances guide himself more and more, and be less directed by circum- stances and external influences. Such a man will soon discover how great a source of strength lies for him in these periods of contemplation. He will cease to be worried by things that formerly worried him ; and countless matters that used to inspire him with fear will cease to alarm him. He acquires a new out- look on life. Formerly he may have taken up this or that task with a sense of timidity. He would say : “I lack the power to do this as well as I could wish.” Now he no longer admits such a thought
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but, instead of it, one quite different. He now says to himself : “ I will summon up all my strength so as to do my work as well as I possibly can.” And he suppresses the thought which encourages timidity; for he knows that this very timidity might spoil his undertaking, and that at any rate it can contribute nothing to the improvement of his labour. And thus one thought after another, each fraught with advantage to his whole life, begins to penetrate the student’s outlook. They take the place of those that had a hampering and weakening effect. He begins to steer his own ship with a firm, secure course among the waves of life, which formerly tossed it helplessly to and fro.
And this calm and serenity react on
the whole being. They assist the growth
of the inner man, and of those inner
faculties which lead to the higher
knowledge. For it is by his progress in
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this direction that the student gradually attains to a state in which he himself determines the manner in which the impressions of the external world shall affect him. Thus, he may hear a word, spoken with the object of wounding or vexing him. Before he began his occult studies it would indeed have wounded or vexed him. But now that he treads the Path of Discipleship, he is able to take from it the sting which gives it the power to hurt, before ever it enters his con- sciousness. Take another example : we naturally grow impatient when we are kept waiting, but the student is so per- meated in his moments of calm with the realisation of the uselessness of im- patience, that this feeling is present with him on every such occasion. The im- patience which would naturally overcome him vanishes, and an interval which would otherwise have been wasted in the ex- pression of impatience may be utilised
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by making some profitable observation during the period of waiting.
Now we must realise the significance of these facts. We must remember that the “ Higher Being ” in a man is in constant development, and only the state of calm and serenity here described renders an orderly development possible. The waves of outward life press in upon the inner man from all sides, if, instead of controlling this outward life, he is controlled by it. Such a man is like a plant which tries to expand in a cleft in the rock, and is stunted in its growth until new space is given it. No outward forces can supply space for the inner man ; it can only be supplied by the inner calm which he may give to his soul. Outward circumstances can only alter the course of his outward life ; they can never awaken the spiritual inner man. The student must himself give birth to the new and higher man within him.
The higher man becomes the “inner
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Ruler,” who directs the circumstances of the outer man with sure guidance. As long as the latter has the upper hand, this inner man is enslaved, and therefore cannot develop his powers. If another than myself has the power to make me angry, I am not master of myself, or, to put it better, I have not yet found “ the Ruler within me.” I must develop the power within of letting the impressions of the outer world approach me only in the way in which I myself choose ; then only do I really become an occult student. And only by earnestly striving after this power can a student reach the goal. It is not of so much importance to achieve a great deal in a given time, as to be earnest in the search. Many have striven for years without noticing any marked advance ; but many of those who did not despair, and struggled on undaunted, have some- times quite suddenly achieved the “ inner victory.”
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In many situations it requires a good deal of effort to achieve these moments of inward calm. But the greater the effort needed, the more important is the achieve- ment. In esoteric studies, everything depends on the energy, inward truth- fulness, and uncompromising sincerity with which we contemplate ourselves and our actions from the standpoint of com- plete strangers.
But only one side of the student’s inner activity is characterised by this birth of his own higher being. Something else is needed in addition. Even if a man regards himself as a stranger, it is only himself that he contemplates ; he looks at those experiences and actions with which he is connected through his par- ticular mode of life, and it is necessary for him to rise above this, and attain to a purely human point of view, no longer connected with his own individual circum- stances. He must pass on to the contem-
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plation of those things which concern him as a human being, even though he himself dwell in a different condition and different circumstances. In this way something is brought to birth within him which rises beyond the personal point of view. Thus his gaze is directed to higher worlds than those he knows in every-day life. And then he begins to feel and realise that he belongs to these higher worlds about which his senses and his daily occupations can tell him nothing. In this way he shifts the central point of his being to the inner part of his nature. He listens to the voices within him which speak to him in his moments of calm ; and in- wardly he cultivates an intercourse with the spiritual world. He is removed from the every-day world, and no longer hears its voices. All around him there is silence. He puts away from him all his external surroundings, and everything which even reminds him of such external
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impressions. His entire soul is filled with calm inward contemplation and converse with the purely spiritual world. This calm contemplation must become a necessity to the student. He is plunged completely in a world of thoughts. He must develop an earnest desire for such calm thinking. He must learn to love the in-pouring of the spirit. He will soon cease to regard this thought-world as more unreal than the everyday things which surround him. He begins to deal with his thoughts as with things existing in space. And then the moment is at hand when the revelations of his quiet thinking begin to seem much higher and more real than the things existing in space. He discovers that this thought- world is an expression of life. He realises that thoughts are not mere phantoms, but that through them beings speak to him who were hidden before. He begins to hear voices speak to him
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through the silence. Formerly his ear was the only organ of hearing ; now he can listen with his soul. An inner language and an inner voice are revealed to him. It is a moment of the supremest ecstasy to the student when this experi- ence first comes to him. An inner light floods the whole external world for him, and he is “ born anew.” Through his being passes a current from a divine world, bringing with it divine bliss.
This thought-life of the soul, which is gradually widened into a life of spiritual being, is designated by the Gnosis and by Theosophy as meditation (contemplative thought). This meditation is the means by which super-sensual knowledge is attained. But during such moments the student must not be content to give him- self up to the luxury of sensation. He must not permit undefined feelings to take possession of his soul. That would only hinder him from attaining true spiritual
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knowledge. His thoughts must be clearly and sharply defined, and he will be helped in this by not allowing himself to be carried away blindly by the thoughts that spring up within him. Kather must he permeate his mind with the lofty thoughts which originated with advanced students to whom inspiration has already come. Let him first of all study those writ- ings which themselves originated in such moments of meditation. 'Ilie student will find such in the mystical, gnostic, and theosophical literature of our time, and will there gain the material for his medi- tation. Wise men have themselves in- scribed in these books the thoughts of divine science, or have proclaimed them to the world through their agents.
Such meditation produces a complete transformation in the student. He begins to form entirely new conceptions of Reality. All things acquire fresh values in his eyes. And it cannot be declared
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too often that this transformation does not estrange him from actuality, or re- move him from his daily round of duties. For he comes to realise that his most insignificant actions or experiences are in close connection with the great cosmic beings and events. When once this con- nection is revealed to him in his moments of contemplation, he is endowed with fresher and fuller power for his daily duties. For then he knows that his labour and his suffering are given and endured for the sake of a great spiritual cosmic whole. Thus, instead of weari- ness, his meditation gives him strength to live.
With firm step the student passes through life. No matter what it may bring him, he goes forward erect. In the past he knew not why he worked and suffered, but now he knows. It is obvious that such meditation is more likely to lead to the goal, if conducted under the
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direction of experienced persons, who know actually bow everything may best be done. We should, therefore, seek the advice and direction of such experi- enced guides (Gurus they are called in certain schools of thought). What would else be mere uncertain groping is trans- formed by such direction into work that is sure of its goal. Those who apply to the teachers possessed of such knowledge and experience will never apply in vain. Only they must be quite clear that it is the advice of a friend they desire, not the domination of a would-be ruler. Those who really know are always the most modest of men, and nothing is further from their nature than what is called the passion for power.
Those who, by means of meditation, rise to that which unites man with spirit, are bringing to life within them the eternal element which is limited by neither birth nor death. Only those who
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have had no experience of it themselves can doubt the existence of this eternal element. Thus meditation becomes the way by which man also attains to the recognition and contemplation of his eternal, indestructible, essential being. xVnd only through meditation can one attain to such a view of life. Gnosis and Theosophy tell of the eternal nature of this essential being, and of its reincarna- tion. The question is often asked : “ Why does a man know nothing of those experi- ences which lie beyond the borders of birth and death?” Not thus should we ask, but rather : How may we attain to such knowledge ? ” The entrance to the Path is opened by right meditation. This alone can revive the memory of events that lie beyond the borders of birth and death. Everyone can attain to this knowledge ; in each of us is the faculty of recognising and contemplating for our- selves the truths of Mysticism, Theosophy,
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and Gnosis ; but the right means must be chosen. Only a being with ears and eyes can perceive tones and colours, nor can the eye perceive, if the light by which things are visible be wanting. Occult science gives the means of developing the spiritual ears and eyes, and kindling the spiritual light. There are, according to esoteric teachers, three steps by which the goal may be attained : 1. Probation. This de- velops the spiritual senses. 2. Enlighten- ment. This kindles the spiritual light. 3. Initiation. This establishes intercourse with the higher spiritual beings.
The following teachings proceed from a secret tradition, but precise information concerning its nature and its name cannot be given at present. They refer to the three steps which, in the school of this tradition, lead to a certain degree of initia- tion. But here we shall find only so much of this tradition as may be openly declared. These teachings are extracted from a much
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deeper and more secret doctrine. In the occult schools themselves a definite course of instruction is followed, and in addition to this there are certain practices which enable the souls of men to attain a con- scious intercourse with the spiritual world. These practices bear about the same rela- tion to what will be imparted in the following pages, as the teaching which is given in a well-disciplined school bears to the instruction that may be received occasionally during a walk. And yet the ardent and persevering pursuit of what is here hinted at will lead to the way by which one obtains access to a genuine occult school. But, of course, an im- patient perusal, devoid of sincerity and perseverance, can lead to nothing at all. He who believes himself to be ready for more must apply to an occult teacher. The study of these things can only be success- ful if the student will observe what has already been written in previous chapters.
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The stages which the above-mentioned tradition specifies are the following three ;