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‘There is No Religion Higher than Truth’ Views on E. L. Gardner’s criticism of C. W. Leadbeater Compiled by Pedro Oliveira
In November 1963 E. L. Gardner, a former General Secretary of the English Section of the Theosophical Society and respected student of Madame Blavatsky’s writings, published a booklet entitled There is No Religion Higher than Truth: Developments in the Theosophical Society. In it Gardner presents a strong criticism of CWL’s perception of the Masters which is encapsulated in the following statement: With the advantage of forty years perspective, plus the letters to Annie Besant and the events of 1920-30, it is now clear (as some have long known or suspected) that the Lord Maitreya and the Masters with whom Leadbeater was on such familiar terms were his own thought-creations. Yet Gardner, unlike most of CWL’s critics, did not doubt his sincerity and honesty. He wrote: Yet I feel certain that there was no intention to deceive. Bishop Leadbeater’s honesty and sincerity were undoubted. His clairvoyance was unquestioned. It was by that faculty that he discovered the boy Krishnamurti, who has at any rate turned out to be a great leader of thought, widely acknowledged all over the world. This discovery in itself was no small feat, and it was not an isolated case. And Leadbeater’s frequent references to the Masters were, from his own point of view, utterly sincere and true. Nor was it a case of a split mind. The projection was a vivid example of the phenomenon of ‘unconscious kriyāśakti’. Gardner refers the readers to his own article on this phenomenon, ‘Kriyāśakti, Conscious and Unconscious’, published in The Theosophist (July, 1963). He adds: The Sanskrit word Kriyāśakti is defined as the Power of Creative Thought. It is a well-known term in Occultism, and its meaning has been abundantly demonstrated during the past few decades in research work on the mysteries of the human mind. The description of the mind by Patañjali, given long ago, is still much to the point: The mind may be compared to a lens in the form of a sphere, so constructed as to be capable of giving a three-dimensional image inside itself of every external object. (Book 1, 41 – Stephen’s translation) After briefly examining the phenomena associated with mental automatism and visualization, he refers to the complexities to be found in the relationship between a Master and a chela (disciple). He says: The automatism of the elemental essence of thought-forms is used, it is said, in the occult relationship of Master and chela. A mental image of the chela is made by the Master, with a ‘radio’ link between image and chela. This image is isolated in the Master’s ‘cave’ and records the chela’s progress. The reverse process, though less efficient, is also possible. By intense contemplation a devotee can imprint the picture of a Master in his mental aura. Any link that a Master might make with the Chela’s pictured thought-form depends, however, on the clarity and purity of the created form. Conscious Kriyāśakti builds the form, but unconscious Kriyāśakti may endow it with the emotional vibrations of the chela. Therein lies the extreme hazard of the venture. Later on, Gardner defines what he meant by hazard: A clear and finely built thought-form of a Master may, occasionally, be the skilled product of conscious Kriyāśakti by a devotee. If its rock crystal purity be undisturbed, the form may presumably provide a medium for communication. But if its elemental life is affected by the skandhá of its creator — though quite unconsciously conveyed — then absorption and enhancement by the elemental will merely mean the birth of an attractive royal edition by its creator. Thus one’s own thought-creation of a Master may provoke the dangerous illusion of being the Master himself. And mental clairvoyance assists its realistic objectivity. The results of such a mistaken identity could well be disastrous. Based on his theory, E. L. Gardner comes to several conclusions: the ‘Coming’ of the World Teacher through Krishnamurti did not happen; the ceremonies of the Liberal Catholic Church were not approved by the Masters, and the Theosophical Society lived twenty-one fateful years between 1909, the year of the discovery of Krishnamurti by CWL, and 1930, when, according to Gardner, Annie Besant woke up to the ‘truth’ regarding the happenings during that period, termed by him ‘the disastrous error’. In support of his view, Gardner quotes from the ‘On the Watch-Tower Notes’ by N. Sri Ram in The Theosophist (July, 1963), written before Gardner’s booklet was published, and which comment on his article published in the same issue of that magazine. It is to be noted, however, that nowhere in his previously referred article Gardner mentions CWL. Sri Ram wrote that Gardner’s article: … throws a clear light on a phenomenon which occurs among people of all religions, namely, that of an image formed subjectively, partly out of material from the creator’s thought-environment, and partly out of ideas generated by his own personal emotions and desires, assuming an objectivity, a full-scale reality, that is completely convincing to him. Many a vision takes place in this manner and is afterwards proclaimed to others and becomes the basis of a legend. The image is really a projection from the person’s own mental make-up, to use a modern psychological term, but it gains a strength and a vitality from his sub-conscious reactions, which give it the character of an independent entity. The process involved in this phenomenon is well illustrated by what is said about ‘elementals’ in early Theosophical literature, artificial entities which are either created for a specific purpose and maintained by deliberate design and volition, or, coming into existence more naturally through repetitive or collective thought, get strengthened through interchange with the psychic condition of their unconscious progenitors and thus prolong their life for as long a period as the impulse might last. Mr Gardner points out that while an image of some loved and reverenced person, or Teacher, if it be of rock-crystal purity, as he calls it, can be a medium for communication with him, any unconscious desire vibrations — also any established tendencies of thought – will affect the image – and it may then become a ‘talking image’ reflecting the subconscious mind of its creator. H.P.B refers in her writings to the ‘enormous mysteries’ of the human mind and of the deceptive nature of the psychic realms to which it is related. After the pamphlet was published, in November 1963, there were naturally many reactions, both in favour of it and criticizing it. In a letter to N. Sri Ram, dated 7 December 1963, Hugh Shearman, a well-known author and a leading member of the TS in Northern Ireland, mentions that ‘If he [Gardner] had a case, he has made it badly and has tried to support it with an inaccurate rendering of past T.S. history. He has not, I think, ever understood the Liberal Catholic Church. My own experience inside it has satisfied me that the directives which C.W.L. understood himself to have received with respect to it had a fundamental authenticity.’ On the other hand, V. Wallace Slater, General Secretary of the English Section of the TS at that time, wrote to Sri Ram saying that ‘I have received very favourable comments from a number of leading members in this country, including Corona Trew, Sir Hugh Sykes, Clara Codd and others.’ In his reply to Shearman, dated 10 December 1963, Sri Ram expressed his views about Gardner’s pamphlet: ‘Doris Groves has since shown me your letters to her on the subject of Mr. Gardner’s pamphlet. I do not go along with the statements in it or even accept its main thesis concerning the question of the Coming. But as the impression obtains that I do, and in any case, considering the nature of those statements, I feel impelled to express openly, that it, in The Theosophist, my own thoughts on the matters dealt with in the pamphlet. I am enclosing a proof-copy of what I am saying, which will appear in the January 1964 issue of The Theosophist. I hope it will help many members who read the pamphlet to see things in a better perspective, and not let themselves be thrown off their balance by questions that have been raised.’ Sri Ram then adds: ‘When I had my talk at Camberley with E.L.G., I could not (I am saying this confidentially to you) engage in a free conversation because I had to speak very loudly to make myself heard. As I have indicated in my article [published in February 1964 in The Theosophist], I read E.L.G.’s manuscript rather hurriedly, and though I had misgivings, I felt he had a right to express his views, and it would be for the members to form their own views on the subject.’ In the same letter Sri Ram says he was sending a copy of what he had written to Gardner himself, Leslie Leslie-Smith and V. Wallace Slater, the last two being those who helped Gardner to publish his booklet. After receiving a copy of Sri Ram’s views on the matter of the pamphlet, Slater and Gardner sent him the following cable: ‘Suggest you postpone your comments on Gardner pamphlet until February.’ Slater wrote to Sri Ram on 19 December 1963: ‘If I may be perfectly frank, as I know you would wish me to be, I feel you have been rather rushed into withdrawing your approval of the pamphlet. It appeared from your letter to Mr. Gardner that Doris Groves (influenced by Rukmini) and Hugh Shearman, were the two leading members who persuaded you to change your mind. I can add that Helen Zahara has also expressed to me strong objections to the pamphlet.’ He then added: ‘I think that it is up to those of us who agreed that the pamphlet should be published to make clear what Mr. Gardner had in mind, even if in some places his wording may lead to misunderstanding.’ Sri Ram’s reply to Slater’s letter was written from Varanasi, India, on 3 January 1964: I duly received your letter of December 19. I wrote to you immediately acknowledging the cable sent by you and E.L.G. and agreeing to postpone my comments till February. Actually I was not “rushed into withdrawing your approval of the pamphlet” by Rukmini or Doris Groves, although they both discussed it with me, feeling quite upset. The discussions and some letters from abroad made me feel that I should express my own views. I am of the opinion – unlike some others – that E.L.G. had a right to express his views which he had obviously thought over carefully. But while I agreed with him on a number of points I also had the ideas which I have expressed in my comments but unfortunately not prominently in the foreground of my mind when I talked with E.L.G. I believe in what I have stated in those comments as to viewing all such matters free from any authority. If you remove the basis of authority what E.L.G. says is an expression of ideas to be carefully considered, not the declaration of a position to be accepted by all in the place of a position previously held. The same would apply to whatever I say. You will note that I say in my comments that I share E.L.G.’s scepticism as regards certain things. By following up that statement with a reference to the discrepancy on God, religion, etc, I have indicated that there is reason for scepticism. The feeling of scepticism, which is essentially negative, has to be separated from any positive explanation of how the statements in question came to be made (Kriyāśakti, A.B. put aside her clairvoyance, etc.). E.L.G. has given a positive explanation, and that is all right on his part; but my attitude as regards explanations is one of openness and essentially exploratory, combined with the feeling that it may not be necessary to settle these issues connected with the past, which most of us have put aside completely and about which we do not have certain knowledge. In his letter to Sri Ram, dated 20 December 1963, Hugh Shearman expresses his views about “occult” experiences: A point that I try to make in discussions in members’ meetings in the T.S. is that all expressions of experience of “the occult” ought to have a certain discrepant character, since they represent different personal convergences upon something that is beyond the level of the argumentative mind. Temperamentally I find no difficulty in being at one and the same time a Liberal Catholic priest and what one might call an extreme anti-clericalist. One does not have to live only on one side of a fence. I believe that to C.W.L., also, there was no conflict between his own kind of ecclesiasticism and the attitude conveyed in the K.H. letter which is so often quoted [letter 10 of The Mahatma Letters to A. P. Sinnett, third edition; letter 88 in the chronological sequence edition]. Over a year ago I had a most interesting conversation on a long train journey with a clergyman whom I discovered to be the Dean of Christ Church, Dublin. I found among other things that he had sympathetically read C.W.L. But the most memorable point in our conversation was that we found that we were in perfect agreement as to the complete compatibility of the two apparent extremes of the religion of Inner Light which utterly rejects form and institution and the religion of Sacrament which is uncompromisingly ecclesiastical. For me this kind of insight is a true key to “the occult”, and I have some sense of disappointment when people who can say quite wise things yet seem compulsively bound to one of a pair of opposites. The real “occult” seems to be a level of understanding in which these opposites do not even have to be resolved, and the measure of success of the T.S. seems to lie in the number of people it can lead towards this experience with respect to their own place and circumstances in life. E. L. Gardner wrote to Sri Ram on 6 January 1964: My dear Sri Ram, Many thanks indeed for your kind response to our suggestion and request to postpone your comments. My reason for the request is simply to avoid the opening up of all manner of questions if it be submitted that Krishnaji is the answer to Mrs Besant’s proclamation of the Coming of the World Teacher. I have set down as briefly as possible the objections to this view – quite apart from Krishna’s own repudiations. They are ample in themselves. But I would also add that the first letter of C.W.L.’s to A.B. in 1916, introduces the ‘Lord Maitreya’ so abruptly and easily as to imply a long familiar topic between them. Looking back at all the happenings I feel certain that the source and only source of the COMING was C.W.L.’s ‘Lord Maitreya’. In the writing of the Pamphlet I was intent on keeping all within close limits. No one is blamed, due respect and credit is given for honesty of purpose of all concerned. A mistake is explained without any reflection on character. In Nethercot’s new book and in the many reviews – Bishop Leadbeater is described as ‘deliberately deceiving Mrs Besant’, as a ‘fraudulent charlatan’ and much else! Some of this is repeated last week in obituaries of Lady Emily Lutyens – who died a few days ago. What possible defence is there for C.W.L. other than the Pamphlet? Of the large number of letters that have come in to Wallace [Slater] and myself, all – with three exceptions – are favourable. Most of them very warmly expressed. Wallace found last week a Canadian Theosophist article by [Victor] Endersby (1960 I think) stating that Alice Bailey’s ‘Tibetan’ and C.W.L.’s ‘Master’ were both creations of their own – Dugpas he called them. Without proof such statements carry little weight. It is the proof that I offer that is so conclusive. We seem to be just in time with this Pamphlet. I shall hope that you will feel able without reserve to support it and I am sure the Society will benefit greatly by knowing the truth. The Lodges too will have a most interesting and enlightening subject for study related to the Third Object. Several have it already in their syllabuses. It may prove interesting to compare Gardner’s above statement that ‘that the first letter of C.W.L.’s to A.B. in 1916, introduces the ‘Lord Maitreya’ so abruptly and easily as to imply a long familiar topic between them. Looking back at all the happenings I feel certain that the source and only source of the COMING was C.W.L.’s ‘Lord Maitreya’, with the following passage of Mary Lutyens’ book Krishnamurti: Years of Awakening (1975). It contains an account by C.W.L. to Fabrizio Ruspoli, who was at Adyar, of an event that took place on 28 December 1911 in Benares, when Krishnaji, as the Head of the Order of the Star, was handing over certificates of membership to new members. Approximately 400 people were present, including Mrs Besant, C.W.L., Miss Francesca Arundale, J. Nityananda and a number of European members, besides many others: All at once the hall was filled with a tremendous power, which was so evidently flowing through Krishna that the next member fell at his feet, overwhelmed by this mighty rush of force. I have never seen or felt anything in the like of it; it reminded one irresistibly of the rushing, mighty wind, and the outpouring of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost. The tension was enormous, and every one in the room was most powerfully affected. It was the kind of thing that we read about in the old scriptures, and think exaggerated; but here it was before us in the twentieth century. … At a meeting [of the Esoteric Section] the President said for the first time that, after what they had seen and felt, it was no longer possible to make even a pretence of concealing the fact that Krishna’s body had been chosen by the Bodhisattva, and was even now being attuned by Him. (p. 55) Finally, in the February 1964 issue of The Theosophist, in his column ‘On the Watch-Tower’, N. Sri Ram, as President of the TS, addressed the controversial matter of E. L. Gardner’s booklet. Below are some extracts of what he wrote: It is stated in the pamphlet, “Obviously there has been no Coming”. I would add to this sentence the words: “as expected”. Krishnaji is giving a teaching, message or whatever else we may call it, which is of unique value and importance. He is himself quite an extraordinary person, unlike anybody else in so many respects. May it not be that he is fulfilling the mission to which the prophecy really referred? Even after breaking from the Society and with the traditional lines of Theosophical thought, Krishnaji in 1928-1929 did claim to have reached complete identification with the Truth. He used the words, “One with the Beloved”, and explained — this explanation is printed in Mr Gardner’s pamphlet — “To me it is all, it is Sri Krishna, it is the Master K.H., it is the Lord Maitreya, it is the Buddha, and yet it is beyond all these forms. What does it matter what name you give?” Dr. Besant started her political work in 1913, and it was then that she said she put aside the use of her clairvoyant faculties. The proclamation as to the Coming was made by her in a Convention lecture at Adyar, entitled “The Opening of the New Cycle” in December 1910, three years after she became President, and while she was still obviously in the plenitude of her powers. It is difficult to imagine that in a matter of such tremendous importance, she could have made the proclamation without any grounds of her own. She spoke with great assurance and as if she knew, and not as if she had been told by a colleague. It is quite possible that both Dr Besant and Brother Leadbeater understood what was hoped for and expected according to their own ideas of the form it should take, but based the central idea on what they had learned through contact with the higher Sources. There is the statement in Mr. Gardner’s pamphlet that “The Lord Maitreya and the Masters with whom C.W.L. was on such familiar terms were his own thought-creations”. This is a statement which the world at large would readily believe, but in the form in which it is made it may not coincide with the truth. Brother Leadbeater through the faculties he had probably got a great deal that is valuable and correct, yet there might be mixed with it certain of his personal ideas and the influence of his personal predilections. I feel that no one — and not only Brother Leadbeater — should be considered infallible, and such a view is consistent with the highest respect to the person concerned, and with faith in his integrity. As H.P.B. says in The Secret Doctrine, there are “enormous mysteries connected with the mind”. Something might easily go wrong in the process of translation from a higher to a lower plane, in one’s recollections of what he had heard or knew inside himself. The only safe rule for all of us is to consider for oneself impersonally every statement, from whatever source it may come, and act according to one’s own understanding, not imagining that one’s understanding and judgment must be absolutely correct. Today, forty-seven years after the publication of E. L. Gardner’s pamphlet, different Lodges and different Sections of the TS may gravitate towards this or that author, or authors. Partially as a result of the contribution of E. L.Gardner, V. Wallace Slater, E. Lester-Smith, Leslie Leslie-Smith, Geoffrey Farthing and others, interest in the writings of H. P. Blavatsky in the English Section remains a focal point. I. K. Taimni’s books became a success story in Latin-America and in the French-speaking world. Geoffrey Hodson’s books are much appreciated in New Zealand and in other places as well. And, not surprisingly, books by Annie Besant and C. W. Leadbeater continue to attract the interest of members and non-members in many places. The TS, to the disappointment of some, did not become a one-author Society but has continued to promote a diversity of views in Theosophical studies, thus honouring its motto: satyan nasti paro dharmah, ‘there is no religion higher than truth’. Mr Gardner certainly got that right.
My First Flight The Rt. Revd. C. W. Leadbeater (Originally published in The Australian Theosophist, August 1928.) As our General Secretary, the Rev. Harold Morton, found it impossible to complete the northern part of his tour, and therefore postponed his visit to Queensland for a month or two, I went up to Brisbane a few weeks ago to do some of the Church and Masonic work which he would have done, and so to minimize the disappointment of our members in this district. While staying at Mr. Tweedie’s ever hospitable home, I received an invitation to go over to Toowoomba and hold a couple of meetings there; and as I found that there was a daily service by aeroplane between the two towns, it occurred to me that the quickest and easiest method of transit would be to avail myself of that route. This was all the more interesting to me because I had never been up in an aeroplane before, though in my younger days I made many balloon ascents. But of course the whole movement and method of progression of an aeroplane is utterly different from that of a balloon, so I felt that it would be an entirely new experience for me. I also felt that it would be of interest to observe the sylphs or spirits of the upper air, so it seemed desirable to take the opportunity which offered itself.
Perhaps I should premise that although I had frequently been up in the Blue Mountains to a height probably as great as an aeroplane would be likely to touch during an ordinary trip in fine weather, that is by no means the same thing for observational purposes as actually leaving the surface of the earth. One is likely to meet varieties of fairies and nature-spirits in the Mountains which are not so common on lower ground; but they are still of the kind which dwells on the earth’s surface and works with the trees and the flowers; whereas when one rises clear away from the touch of the soil, one finds oneself floating among spirits of the air which very rarely descend to the earth at all. In my earlier experiences of ballooning I had not yet acquired clairvoyance, and so though I had risen on some of those occasions to much greater heights (though not more than about 2 ½ miles) I had no physical contact with the air creatures in their own realm. Of course in astral work one constantly ascends among them, but to go there in the physical vehicle is quite a different matter. The aeroplane proved much more comfortable than I had thought to be possible. I had expected to have to don some horrible leather headpiece, more or less of the nature of a diver’s helmet, and I also thought it probable that I should be very unpleasantly affected by the appalling noise of the engine. To my satisfaction I found that the machine awaiting us possessed a saloon, very much like the interior of a four-seated motor-car, except that the cushions were far softer than those of an automobile and that we had much more leg-room than a car usually provides. One had to climb into this saloon through a section of its roof, which opened something as does the bonnet of a motor-car, and that was a mild acrobatic feat; but the pilot told me that very shortly they would have new planes on that run with doors opening at the side just like those of an ordinary carriage. Anyhow, when once one was inside, it was exceedingly comfortable. Our machine, I may mention, was a bi-plane with a 240 horse-power engine.
After the preliminary run on the ground which is necessary to get up speed the plane soared into the air just as a bird might have done, and I was delighted to find that in its cabin, even with the windows open, the roar of the engine was not sufficiently audible to be unpleasant, and we could converse with only a slight raising of the voice. I was much impressed by the steadiness with which it flew; it is the only kind of vehicle I have yet encountered (except a great mail-steamer) in which it is easy and comfortable to write with a pen. It sped through the air like an arrow, and for the greater part of the journey the sensation, so far as the physical nerves are concerned, was just as though it was resting on the earth. Two or three times in our seventy miles it seemed suddenly to drop about a foot with an odd little jerk, but we met with nothing in the nature of an air-pocket. Just after starting and just before alighting the plane swept round in a semicircle with a splendid swoop like an albatross, heeling over at a slight angle like a yacht in a breeze; otherwise it was as one-idea’d as an express train, holding its nose as straight as if it were pointed at a star. The air spirits seemed to hail us with riotous joy; they clustered around us and circled at our prow just as I have often seen dolphins behave round the bows of a steamer. We were flying at a very fair speed, but these creatures circled round us with the utmost ease, as though they did not feel the air pressure at all. They gave me the impression of being extremely friendly and well-disposed, and did not in the slightest degree resent our intrusion upon their domain. Curiously enough, however, I caught sight of some other creatures higher up—much higher up—who seemed by no means so friendly. They were of immense size and looked somehow for more material than the sylphs. They were curiously sullen in appearance, and I rather wondered what sort of reception they would have given us if we had risen into their immediate neighbourhood. I did not much like the look of them; they reminded me uncomfortably of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s powerful story ‘The Horror of the Heights.’ But after all they may have been quite harmless, though sulky. The alighting of the aeroplane at the end of the journey was a masterly achievement; we did not know when it touched the ground until we felt the comparative bumpiness of running over a field of grass. We had an equally pleasant experience when we flew back the next day, doing our seventy miles in just three-quarters of an hour. The whole thing is absolutely different from the aeronautics of my youth. The aeroplane seems to be absolutely under control, whereas in the balloon we were entirely at the mercy of the wind, our only power of voluntary motion being either to rise by throwing ballast overboard, or to sink by letting out some gas. The balloon was wonderfully quiet and steady even in a fairly strong wind, because it moved absolutely with it, without the slightest resistance; but the descent was always something of an adventure. We endeavoured to find a reasonably smooth place for landing and then threw out a grappling hook at the end of a rope, which sometimes caught in a fence, a tree or a furrow, and sometimes declined to do so. When it did catch, the balloon swept down rather swiftly, but was always liable to rebound on touching the earth. In calm weather one could wind in the rope and throw other thinner lines to attendant yokels; but in gusty weather matters were much less certain, and the proceedings were liable to be protracted and sometimes painful. The machine heavier than air is in many ways a distinct improvement, and I shall watch its future development with great interest.
A MYSTERIOUS MANUSCRIPT
A Mysterious Manuscript (Source: The Theosophist, January 1911)
REFERENCES: 1. The initial letter a does not occur on the leaf, so we cannot compare its form with the variety designated by L. D. Barnett in the J. R. A. S. [Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society], 1903, p. 111, as characteristic of Tibetan paleography.
AN HOUR WITH Mr. LEADBEATER Ernest Wood
THE ATTITUDE OF THE ENQUIRER (Originally published in The Adyar Bulletin, February 1911) I have received many letters from those who are put in the position of lecturers and teachers of Theosophy, asking how best to meet the constant demands of enquirers for proof of the accuracy of the Theosophical teaching. Another common remark of the enquirer is: “You have a large literature: I am a busy man. Where am I to begin in all this? Give me the most important part first.” Instead of writing a number of private letters, I have thought it best to put an answer, once for all, in the pages of The Adyar Bulletin, to which later enquirers can be referred. What should be the attitude of the enquirer towards the wonderful mass of new truth which is put before him in Theosophical teaching? It should be an intelligently receptive attitude—not one of carping criticism on the one hand, nor of blind belief on the other, but of endeavour to understand the different facts as they are presented to him, and to make them his own. In Theosophy we strongly deprecate the attitude of blind belief, for we say that it has been the cause of a vast amount of the evil of the world. On this point the teaching of the Eastern Masters is emphatic, for they regard superstition as one of the fetters which it is absolutely necessary that a man should cast off before he can hope to make any progress on the occult Path. They also regard doubt as a fetter, but they say that the only way to get rid of doubt is not by blind faith, but by the acquisition of knowledge. It would be quite useless for a man to exchange blind faith in orthodox Christianity for a similar blind faith in those who happened to be writing or speaking on Theosophy. To say: “Thus saith Madame Blavatsky or Mrs. Besant,” is after all only a small advance on saying: “Thus saith S. Paul of S. John.” We who live in western countries have a bad heredity behind us in these matters, for the point of view of our forefathers has usually been either the blind faith of the unintelligent and biassed person, or the blank and rather militant incredulity of the materialist. We have been too much in the habit of thinking that what does not happen in Europe or America is not worth taking account of, and that nobody outside of ourselves knows anything at all. Many of us have grown up in the midst of the ridiculous theory that there was only one religion in the world, and that the vast majority of its inhabitants were ‘heathens,’ whom we had to ‘save,’ and that if we could not do that, they must be left to ‘the uncovenanted mercies of God’. It seems incredible that civilised people could ever believe anything so silly, but what I state is actually the fact. When we think that we may have had among our recent ancestors people who were capable of that, we see at once that we are but ill-prepared for the reception of a rational creed. Again, we have been unfortunate in that we had not even the whole of Christianity, for history shows us that what has been taught to us is only a dismembered fragment of the original form of that religion. Before the Gnostic doctors were cast out, Christianity had a system of philosophy fully equal to that of the other religions, but after their departure it was but a truncated faith. Still its ethics remained to it, and they will be found to be exactly the same as those of the other great world-faiths. In Theosophy we hold that it matters little what a man believes, but much what he does; whether he is kind and noble, just and gentle, pure and true. And it is according to the answers to those questions that the destiny of the man is decided. So far as He, the Judge, has explained Himself, any heathen who had done these things would at once pass into eternal felicity, for He says no single word about belief at all. As regards all these virtues the teachings of all the religions are identical. The daily life of a really good Christian will be found to be identical with that of a really good Buddhist or a really good Hindu. One will call his religious exercises by the name of prayer, while the others call them meditation, but in the nature of them there is little difference. Each enjoins the practice of the same virtues; each reprobates the same vices. We must clear our minds utterly of the extraordinary theory that a man’s religion is a question of importance. It depends entirely upon where the man happens to be born. You are, let us say, a Christian, and you cannot conceive it as possible that you could have been anything else; yet if you had been born in an Indian family, you would have belonged just as unquestioningly to the Hindu religion, or to the Buddhist if you had been born in Ceylon or Siam. Therefore we must entirely cast aside the curious prejudice that it is necessary for a man to hold some particular form of religion if he is to obtain final perfection. On taking up the study of Theosophy it is necessary that we should adopt an entirely new attitude—that we should open the doors of the mind, and learn to treat religion as a matter of common-sense, exactly as we do science. On the one hand we must accept nothing which does not commend itself to us as reasonable, and on the other hand we must not expect proofs of a nature incongruous with the fact which we are considering. It is often impossible to give for psychological problems and theories a demonstration along mathematical lines, or a proof on the physical plane which a man can hold in his hand. The proof of any proposition must be congruous with the nature of the proposition, and consequently the final proof of some of the deepest Theosophical doctrines must lie in the experience of the evolved soul. A common-sense attitude will enable us to determine whether we can know a certain thing positively, or whether it is necessary to take first what seems to be a reasonable working hypothesis, and then see how far future experience supports or weakens it. Much of the Theosophical teaching must remain as a hypothesis for each man until he is able to develop powers by which he can see for himself; but in the meantime he may easily acquire practical certainty with regard to it, by weighing it against all other hypotheses and seeing how perfectly it, and it alone, accounts for the observed phenomena of life. This is exactly the ground on which are held a large number of what are commonly called scientific facts. It is a valuable exercise for the student to think carefully which of his beliefs in ordinary life are really founded upon direct personal knowledge. He believes, for example, that the earth rotates upon its axis; yet all the evidence of his daily life goes to prove exactly the contrary. The ground is stable beneath his feet, and he cannot in any way prove to himself that the sun, moon and stars do not really move above him, exactly as they appear to do. There is proof available of the rotation of the earth. There is the Foucault pendulum experiment and the experiment with the gyroscope. If a man has seen those experiments tried, he knows that the earth rotates; if he has not, he does not know it, but only believes it. He believes it on good evidence, but it is not the evidence of his senses. A reasonable hypothesis is necessary in order to induce a man to work, and here his imagination comes into play. He must be evolved enough to imagine a thing as possible, or he must be able to abstract his ideas and deduce from them a working principle, before he can be induced to make an effort towards proving a fact as true. Theosophy has a considerable literature, but it has no inspired Scriptures. We who write books on the various branches of the subject, put before our friends the results of our investigations, and we take every care that what we state shall be scrupulously accurate as far as our knowledge goes; but the model which we set before us when we write is not the sacred Scripture but the scientific manual. So far as the western world is concerned, the study of Theosophical subjects is comparatively a new one, although in the East many books have been written in which these matters are expounded; but these oriental books naturally do not approach them from the modern scientific point of view. Our plan in verifying the information originally given to us has been just what was adopted in the beginning of the sciences of chemistry or astronomy—a careful observation of all the phenomena within reach, their tabulation, and the endeavour to deduce from them the general laws which govern them. Our attitude to Theosophy should, I think, be thus characterised: (1) We must not exchange the blind belief in the authority of the Church for an equally blind faith in personal Theosophical teachers. (2) We must preserve an open mind and an intelligently receptive attitude. (3) We should accept as working hypotheses the truths which are given to us, and should set to work to prove them for ourselves. (4) We should realise that this teaching sets before us the scheme of the Logos for His universe, and that the condition of making progress in that universe is to learn the rules of that scheme, and set ourselves to work with them and not against them. (5) We should seek development or progress not for the sake of ourselves, but in order that the knowledge we may acquire may be used for the benefit of humanity, and that we may fit ourselves to be the servants of that humanity. (6) We must change absolutely our point of view towards life. When regarding the sorrow and suffering of the world, we must put aside the despairing attitude of the theologian for one of hopefulness, because the teachings fills us with the calm certainty that everything will at last be well. THE RELATIVE IMPORTANCE OF THE TRUTHS Again, Theosophy lays before us a vast mass of new truths with regard to the constitution both of man and of the universe, and also with regard to their past and future. Though the outline is simple the detail is considerable. We have therefore to think in what order we shall consider these truths; what is their relative importance. It seems to me that they group themselves naturally into three great classes: first, the ethical teachings, and the reason for them; second, the explanation of the constitution of man and the planes on which he lives; third, the remainder of the teaching, the great mass of information about planetary chains and earlier races of mankind. They come thus in order of importance because the knowledge of the ethical teaching and the reason for it is necessary for the daily life of man, because as he learns even a little of it he can instantly proceed to put it into practice. If, having learnt so much, something should occur to prevent him from learning more, he will still have gained a priceless possession—one which will affect the whole of his future life, not in this world only but in others also. The second block of information, with regard to the constitution of man and the world in which he lives, is also of great importance to him, as showing him how to do many of the things which the first division of the teaching has commended to him, as showing him also how to be much more useful to his fellow-men than he could be without this knowledge. The third block of teaching, though keenly interesting, is less directly practical. It has its value; it has a great value; for from the past we may in many cases predict the future, and from it we may learn many a lesson which will be of help to us in that future. At that same time one must admit that a man might be just a loyal a subject, just as good a citizen, and just as useful to his fellow-men if he had never heard about the planetary chains, whereas it is not true that he would be just as good in any of those capacities if he remained ignorant of the first and second of our great classes of truth. First, the ethics and the reason for them. The ethical teaching of Theosophy is precisely the same as that of any and all of the great religions. There is therefore nothing new for us to learn here; the only difference is that Theosophy gives us a scientific reason for our ethics, which most religions do not. This consideration of the reason for ethical teaching involves a very large block of the Theosophical teaching, for the ultimate reason for all good action is that it may be in harmony with the divine plan, the will of the Logos. That we may understand what will be in harmony with it, we must first try to grasp as much as is possible for us of that divine plan itself. This involves the consideration of the nature of God and the method of His working, and also His relation to man. Under this head we must speak of the Logos of our solar system, and the beginnings of that system, of the atom and planes, of the nature, of the formation, constitution and development of man, and of the methods appointed for that development, and the way in which he can hasten it, and of the obstacles which he will find in his way. Under the second heading we must take up in greater detail the various vehicles of man and their relation to the different planes of nature. We must learn to understand ourselves, in order that we may direct intelligently the complicated machinery of the vehicles. This is an intensely practical consideration for us; we are living upon all these planes now, though most of us do not know it; we are using our mental and astral bodies as bridges to carry to the physical brain the messages from the ego, and to carry back to him in return the information which they obtain from external impacts of all sorts. Unless we understand those bodies we cannot use them to the best advantage, we cannot get out of them all that we might. Apart from the fact of that constant use of the vehicles, we all spend about a third of our lives in the astral body—in a state which we commonly call sleep. After physical death we enter upon a long life in these higher vehicles, and it becomes once more obvious that the more we know about them the more efficient and the more comfortable will this life be. These higher bodies have their powers and their capacities as well as the physical body. If we understand them we can utilise all these for our own advancement and for the helping of our fellows, so that their study is eminently practical. The third division is that which treats of the past evolution of man. It deals with the planetary chain of which our earth is a part, with its relation to other chains in the solar system, and with the successive life-waves which have passed over these chains. It takes up the question of the work of the great Official who superintends the formation of each Root Race and its subdivision into branch races. It explains how men come to be at such different levels in life, and accounts for the formation of classes and castes. Although this appears to be less practical than the other kinds, we shall find not only that it is intensely interesting, but that it has its uses as well. It is a remarkable fact that all religions have made it a special point to teach their followers something of the beginnings of the world and of man. In the Jewish scripture you have the extraordinary story of the earlier chapters of the Book of Genesis, which is unfortunately adopted just as it stands by the Christian Church; but each religion has some such story—even those of savage tribes. It is clear therefore that those who found religions must know that this information is of great importance for man. Madame Blavatsky has followed in the footsteps of her Teachers in that respect, for the whole of her monumental work, The Secret Doctrine, is a sermon upon the text of the Stanzas of Dzyan, which give an account of the origin of man and of our system. The point of first importance is that we should live the life; the second that we should understand our possibilities; and when we have got so far, we may then take up with advantage the study of past history. In following out thoroughly that first block of teaching, we have arrived at certainty in regard to the rest. “If any man will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine.” The best way to prove to oneself the truth of these Theosophical doctrines is to take them for granted and to live as though they were true; then the proof will soon come.
CLAIRVOYANCE C. W. Leadbeater (Originally published in The Theosophical Review, November, 1898) Clairvoyance means literally nothing more than “clear-seeing,” and it is a word which has been sorely misused, and even degraded so far as to be employed to describe the trickery of a mountebank in a variety show. Even in its more restricted sense it covers a wide range of phenomena, differing so greatly in character that it is not easy to give a definition of the word which shall be at once succinct and accurate. It has been called “spiritual vision,” but no rendering could well be more misleading than that, for in the vast majority of cases there is no faculty connected with it which has the slightest claim to be honoured by so lofty a name. For the purposes of this article we may, perhaps, define it as the power to see what is hidden from ordinary physical sight. It will be as well to premise that it is very frequently (though by no means always) accompanied by what is called clairaudience, or the power to hear what would be inaudible to the ordinary physical ear; and we will for the nonce take our title as covering this faculty also, in order to avoid the clumsiness of perpetually using two long words where one will suffice. The phenomena of clairvoyance differ so widely both in character and in degree that it is not very easy to decide how they can most satisfactorily be classified. We might for example arrange them according to the kind of sight employed—whether it were devachanic, astral, or merely etheric. We might divide them according to the capacity of the clairvoyant, taking into consideration whether he was trained or untrained; whether his vision was regular and under his command, or spasmodic and independent of his volition; whether he could exercise it only when under mesmeric influence, or whether that assistance was unnecessary for him; whether he was able to use his faculty when awake in the physical body, or whether it was available only when he was temporarily away from that body in sleep or trance. All these distinctions are of importance, and we shall have to take them all into consideration as we go on, but perhaps on the whole the most useful classification will be one something on the lines of that adopted by Mr. Sinnett in his Rationale of Mesmerism—a book, by the way, which all students of clairvoyance ought to read. When we come to deal with the phenomena, then, we will arrange them rather according to the direction of the sight employed than to the plane upon which it is exercised, so that we may group instances of clairvoyance under some such headings as these: 1. Simple clairvoyance—that is to say, a mere opening of sight, enabling its possessor to see whatever astral or etheric entities happen to be present around him, but not including the power of observing either distant places or scenes belonging to any other time than the present. 2. Clairvoyance in space—the capacity to see scenes or events removed from the seer in space, and either too far distant for ordinary observation or concealed by intermediate objects. 3. Clairvoyance in time—that is to say, the capacity to see objects or events which are removed from the seer in time, or in other words the power of looking into the past or the future. Before this more detailed explanation can usefully be attempted, however, it will be necessary for us to devote a little time to some preliminary considerations, in order that we may have clearly in mind a few broad facts as to the different planes on which clairvoyant vision may be exercised, and the conditions which render its exercise possible. We are constantly assured in Theosophical literature that all these higher faculties are presently to be the heritage of mankind in general—that the capacity of clairvoyance, for example, lies latent in every one, and that those in whom it already manifests itself are simply in that one particular a little in advance of the rest of us. Now this statement is a true one, and yet it seems quite vague and unreal to the majority of people, simply because they regard such a faculty as something absolutely different from anything they have yet experienced, and feel fairly confident that they themselves, at any rate, are not within measurable distance of its development. It may help to dispel this sense of unreality if we try to understand that clairvoyance, like so many other things in nature, is mainly a question of vibrations, and is in fact nothing but an extension of powers which we are all using every day of our lives. We are living all the while surrounded by a vast sea of mingled air and ether, the latter interpenetrating the former, as it does all physical matter; and it is chiefly by vibrations in that vast sea of matter that impressions reach us from the outside. This much we all know, but it may perhaps never have occurred to many of us that the number of these vibrations to which we are capable of responding is in reality quite infinitesimal. Up among the exceedingly rapid vibrations which affect the ether there is a certain small section—a very small section—to which the retina of the human eye is capable of responding, and these particular vibrations produce in us the sensation which we call light. That is to say, we are capable of seeing only those objects from which light of that particular kind can either issue or be reflected. In exactly the same say the tympanum of the human ear is capable of responding to a certain very small range of comparatively slow vibrations—slow enough to affect the air which surrounds us; and so the only sounds which we can hear are those made by objects which are able to vibrate as some rate within that particular range. In both cases it is a matter perfectly well known to science that there are large numbers of vibrations both above and below these two sections, and that consequently there is much light that we cannot see, and many sounds to which our ears are deaf. In the case of light the action of these higher and lower vibrations is easily perceptible in the effects produced by the actinic rays at one end of the spectrum and the heat rays at the other. As a matter of fact there exist vibrations of every conceivable degree of rapidity filling the whole vast space intervening between the slow sound waves and the swift light waves; nor is even that all, for there are undoubtedly vibrations slower than those of sound, and a whole infinity of them which are swifter than those known to us as light. So we begin to understand that the rates of vibrations by which we see and hear are only like two tiny groups of a few strings selected from an enormous harp of practically infinite extent, and when we think how much we have been able to learn and infer from the use of those minute fragments, we see vaguely what possibilities might lie before us if we were enabled to utilize the vast wonderful whole. Another fact which needs to be considered in this connection is that different human beings vary considerably, though within relatively narrow limits, in their capacity of response even to the very few vibrations which are within reach of our physical senses. I am not referring to the keenness of sight or of hearing that enables one man to see a fainter object or hear a slighter sound than another; it is not in the least a question of strength of vision but of extent of susceptibility. For example, if any one will take a good bisulphide of carbon prism, and by its means throw a clear spectrum on a sheet of white paper, and then get a number of people to mark upon the paper the extreme limits of the spectrum as it appears to them, he is fairly certain to find that their powers of vision differ appreciably. Some will see the violet extending much farther than the majority do; others will perhaps see rather less violet than most, while gaining a corresponding extension of vision at the red end. Some few there will perhaps be who can see farther than ordinary at both ends, and these will almost certainly be what we call sensitive people—susceptible in fact to a greater range of vibrations than are most men of the present day. In hearing, the same difference can be tested by taking some sound which is just not too high to be audible—on the very verge of audibility as it were—and discovering how many among a given number of people are able to hear it. The squeak of a bat is a familiar instance of such a sound, and experiment will show that on a summer evening when the whole air is full of their shrills, needle-like cries quite a large number of men will be absolutely unconscious of them, and unable to hear anything at all. Now these examples show certainly that there is no hard-and-fast limit to man’s power or response to either etheric or aerial vibrations, but that some among us already have that power to a wider extent than others, and it will even be found that the same man’s capacity varies on different occasions. It is therefore not difficult for us to imagine that it might be possible for a man to develope this power, and thus in time to learn to see much that is invisible to his fellow-men, and hear much that is inaudible to them, since we know perfectly well that enormous numbers of these additional vibrations do exist, and are simply as it were, awaiting recognition. The experiment with the Röntgen rays give us an example of the startling results which are produced when even a very few of these additional vibrations are brought within human ken, and the transparency to these rays of many substances hitherto considered opaque at once show us one way at least in which we may explain such elementary clairvoyance as is involved in reading a letter inside a closed box, or describing those present in an adjoining apartment. To learn to see by means of the Röntgen rays in addition to those ordinarily employed would be quite sufficient to enable anyone to perform a feat of magic of this order. So far we have thought only of an extension of the purely physical senses of man; and when we remember that a man’s etheric body is in reality merely the finer part of his physical frame, and that therefore all his sense organs contain a large amount of etheric matter of various degrees of density, the capacities of which are still practically latent in most of us, we shall see that even if we confine ourselves to this line of development alone there are enormous possibilities of all kinds already opening out before us But besides and beyond all this we know that man possesses an astral and a mental body, each of which can in process of time be aroused into activity, and will respond in turn to the vibrations of the matter of its own plane, thus opening up before the ego, and he learns to function through them, two entirely new and far wider worlds of knowledge and power. Now these new worlds, though they are all around us and freely interpenetrate one another, are not to be thought of as distinct and entirely unconnected in substance, but rather as melting the one into the other, the lowest astral forming a direct series with the highest physical, just as the lowest mental in its turn forms a direct series with the highest astral. We are not called upon in thinking of them to imagine some new and strange kind of matter, but simply to think of the ordinary physical kind as subdivided so very much more finely and vibrating so very much more rapidly as to introduce us to what are practically entirely new conditions and qualities. It is not then difficult for us to grasp the possibility of a steady and progressive extension of our senses, so that both by sight and by hearing we may be able to appreciate vibrations far higher and far lower than those which are ordinarily recognized. A large section of these additional vibrations will still belong to the physical plane, and will merely enable us to obtain impressions from the etheric part of that plane, which is at present as a closed book to us. Such impressions will still be received through the retina of the eye; of course they will affect its etheric rather than its solid matter, but we may nevertheless regard them as still appealing only to an organ specialized to receive them, and not the whole surface of the etheric body. There are some abnormal cases, however, in which other parts of the etheric body respond to these additional vibrations as readily as, or even more readily then, those of the eye. Such vagaries are explicable in various ways, but principally as effects of some partial astral development, for it will be found that the sensitive parts of the body almost invariably correspond with one or other of the chakras, or centres of vitality in the astral body. And though if astral consciousness be not yet developed these centres may not be available on their own plane, they are still strong enough to stimulate into keener activity the etheric matter which they interpenetrate. When we come to deal with the astral senses themselves the methods of working are very different. The astral body has no specialized sense-organs, but if a vibration which is within the limits of its power of cognition strikes any part of it, it responds to that vibration, and sight or hearing, as the case may be, is produced as the result. So that a person using astral vision does not need to turn and look at any object, but can see it equally well behind him or on one side; whereas one using etheric sight would be as far as this is concerned almost in the position of a man seeing physically in the ordinary way. The vision of the devachanic or mental plane is again totally different, for in this case we can no longer speak of separate senses such as sight and hearing, but rather of one general sense which responds so fully to the vibrations reaching it that when any object comes within its cognition it at once comprehends it fully, and as it were sees it, hears it, feels it, and knows all there is to know about it by the one instantaneous operation. Yet even this wonderful faculty differs in degree only and not in kind from those which are at our command at the present time; on the mental plane, just as on the physical, impressions are still conveyed by means of vibrations travelling from the object seen to the seer. On the buddhic plane we meet for the first time with a quite new faculty having nothing in common with those of which we have spoken, for there a man cognizes any object by an entirely different method in which external vibrations play no part. The object becomes part of himself, and he studies it from the inside instead of from the outside. But with this power ordinary clairvoyance has nothing to do. The development, either entire or partial, of any one of these faculties would come under our definition of clairvoyance—the power to see what is hidden from ordinary physical sight. But these faculties may be developed in various ways, and it will be well to say a few words as to these different lines. We may presume that if it were possible for a man to be isolated during his evolution from all but the gentlest outside influences, and to unfold from the beginning in perfectly regular and normal fashion, he would probably develope his senses in regular order also. He would find his physical senses gradually extending their scope until they responded to all the physical vibrations, of etheric as well as of denser matter; then in orderly sequence would come sensibility to the coarser part of the astral plane, and presently the finer part also would be included, until in due course the devachanic faculty dawned in its turn. In real life, however, development so regular as this is hardly ever known, and many a man has occasional flashes of astral consciousness without any awakening of etheric vision at all. And this irregularity of development is one of the principal causes of man’s extraordinary liability to error in matters of clairvoyance—a liability from which there is no escape except by a long course of careful training under a qualified teacher. Students of Theosophical literature are well aware that there are such teachers to be found—that even in this materialistic nineteenth century the old saying is still true, that “when the pupil is ready, the Master is ready also,” and that “in the hall of learning, when he is capable of entering there, the disciple will always find his Master.” They are well aware also that only under such guidance can a man develop his latent powers in safety and with certainty, since they know how fatally easy it is for the untrained clairvoyant to deceive himself as to the meaning and value of what he sees, or even absolutely to distort his vision completely in bringing it down into his physical consciousness. It does not follow that even the pupil who is receiving regular instruction in the use of occult powers will find them unfolding themselves exactly in the regular order which was suggested above as probably ideal. His previous progress may not have been such as to make this for him the easiest or most desirable road; but at any rate he is in the hands of one who is perfectly competent to be his guide in spiritual development, and he rests in perfect contentment that the way along which he is taken will be that which is the best way for him. Another great advantage which he gains is that whatever faculties he may acquire are definitely under his command and can be used fully and constantly when he needs them for his Theosophical work; whereas in the case of the untrained man such powers often manifest themselves only very partially and spasmodically, and appear to come and go, as it were, at their own sweet will. It may reasonably be objected that if clairvoyant faculty is, as stated, a part of the occult development of man and so a sign of a certain amount of progress along that line, it seems strange that it should often be possessed by primitive peoples, or by the ignorant and uncultured among ourselves—persons who are obviously quite undeveloped, from whatever point of view one regards them. No doubt this does appear remarkable at first sight; but the fact is that the sensitiveness of the savage or of the coarse and vulgar European ignoramus is not really the same thing as the faculty of his properly trained brother, nor is it arrived at in the same way. An exact and detailed explanation of the difference would lead us into rather recondite technicalities, but perhaps the general idea of the distinction between the two may be caught from an example taken from the very lowest plane of clairvoyance, in close contact with the denser physical. The etheric double in man is in exceedingly close relation to his nervous system, and any kind of action upon one of them speedily reacts on the other. Now in the sporadic appearance of etheric sight in the savage, whether of Central Africa or of Western Europe, it has been observed that the corresponding nervous disturbance is almost entirely in the sympathetic system, and that the whole affair is practically beyond the man’s control—is in fact a sort of massive sensation vaguely belonging to the whole etheric body, rather than an exact and definite sense-perception communicated through a specialized organ As in later races and amid higher development the strength of the man is more and more thrown into the evolution of the mental faculties, this vague sensitiveness usually disappears; but still later, when the spiritual man begins to unfold, he regains his clairvoyant power. This time, however, the faculty is a precise and exact one, under the control of the man’s will, and exercised through a definite sense-organ; and it is noteworthy that any nervous action set up in sympathy with it is now almost exclusively in the cerebro-spinal system. Occasional flashes of clairvoyance do, however, sometimes come to the highly cultured and spiritual-minded man, even though he may never have heard of the possibility of training such a faculty. In his case such glimpses usually signify that he is approaching that stage in his evolution when these powers will naturally begin to manifest themselves, and their appearance should serve as an additional stimulus to him to strive to maintain that high standard of moral purity and mental balance without which clairvoyance is a curse and not a blessing to its possessor. Between those who are entirely unimpressible and those who are in full possession of clairvoyant power there are may intermediate stages. One to which it will be worth while to give a passing glance in the stage in which a man, though he has no clairvoyant faculty in ordinary life, yet exhibits it more or less fully under the influence of mesmerism. This is a case in which the psychic nature is already sensitive, but the consciousness is not yet capable of functioning in it amidst the manifold distractions of physical life. It needs to be set free by the temporary suspension of the outer senses in the mesmeric trance before it can use the diviner faculties which are but just beginning to dawn within it But of course even in the mesmeric trance there are innumerable degrees of lucidity, from the ordinary patient who is blankly unintelligent to the man whose power of sight is fully under the control of the operator, and can be directed whithersoever he wills, or to the more advanced stage in which, when the consciousness is once set free, it escapes altogether from the grasp of the magnetizer, and soars into fields of exalted vision where it is entirely beyond his reach. Another step along the same path is that upon which such perfect suppression of the physical as that which occurs in the hypnotic trance is not necessary, but the power of supernormal sight, though still out of reach during waking life, becomes available when the body is held in the bonds of ordinary sleep. At this stage of development stood many of the prophets and seers of whom we read, who were ‘warned of God in a dream,” or communed with beings far higher than themselves in the silent watches of the night. Most cultured people of the higher races of the world have this development to some extent; that is to say, the senses of their astral bodies are in full working order, and perfectly capable of receiving impressions from objects and entities of their own plane. But to make that fact of any use to them down here in the physical body two changes are usually necessary; first, that the ego shall be awakened to the realities of that plane, and induced to emerge from the chrysalis formed by his own waking thoughts, and look round him to observe and to learn; and secondly, that the consciousness shall be so far retained during the return of the ego into his physical body as to enable him to impress upon his physical brain the recollection of what he has seen or learnt. If the first of these changes has taken place, the second is of little importance, since the ego, the true man, will be able to profit by the information to be obtained upon that plane, even though he may not have the satisfaction of bringing through any remembrance of it into his waking life down here. Students often ask how this clairvoyant faculty will first be manifested in themselves—how they may know when they have reached the stage at which its first faint foreshadowings are beginning to be visible. Cases differ so widely that it is impossible to give to this question any answer that will be universally applicable. Some people begin by a plunge, as it were, and under some unusual stimulus become able just for once to see some striking vision; and very often in such a case, because the experience does not repeat itself, the seer comes in time to believe that on that occasion he must have been the victim of hallucination. Others begin by becoming intermittently conscious of the brilliant colours and vibrations of the human aura; yet others find themselves with increasing frequency seeing and hearing something to which those around them are blind and deaf; others again see faces, landscapes, or coloured clouds floating before their eyes in the dark before they sink to rest; while perhaps the commonest experience of all is that of those who begin to recollect with greater and greater clearness what they have seen and heard on the other planes during sleep. Having now to some extent cleared our ground, we may proceed to consider the various phenomena of clairvoyance under the three heads already mentioned.
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