403 lines
25 KiB
Plaintext
403 lines
25 KiB
Plaintext
(Part 8 of 8)
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YOGA FOR YELLOWBELLIES.
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FOURTH LECTURE.
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Salutation to the Sons of the Morning!
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Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
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1. I should like to begin this evening by recapitulating very
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briefly what has been said in the previous three lectures, and this
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would be easier if I had not completely forgotten everything I said.
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But there is a sort of faint glimmering to the effect that the
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general subject of the series was the mental exercises of the Yogi;
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and the really remarkable feature was that I found it impossible to
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discuss them at all thoroughly without touching upon, first of all,
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ontology; secondly, ordinary science; and thirdly, the high Magick of
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the true initiates of the light.
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2. We found that both Ontology and Science, approaching the
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question of reality from entirely different standpoints, and pursuing
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their researches by entirely different methods, had yet arrived at an
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identical 'impasse.' And the general conclusion was that there could
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be no reality in any intellectual concept of any kind, that the only
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reality must lie in direct experience of such a kind that it is
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beyond the scope of the critical apparatus of our minds. It cannot
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be subject to the laws of Reason; it cannot be found in the fetters
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of elementary mathematics; only transfinite and irrational concep-
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tions in that subject can possibly shadow forth the truth in some
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such paradox as the identity of contradictories. We found further
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that those states of mind which result from the practice of Yoga are
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properly called trances, because they actually transcend the
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conditions of normal thought.
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3. At this point we begin to see an almost insensible drawing
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together of the path of Yoga which is straight (and in a sense arid)
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with that of Magick, which may be compared with the Bacchic dance or
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the orgies of Pan. It suggests that Yoga is ultimately a sublimation
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of philosophy, even as Magick is a sublimation of science. The way
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is open for a reconciliation between these lower elements of thought
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by virtue of their tendency to flower into these higher states beyond
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thought, in which the two have become one. And that, of course, is
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Magick; and that, of course, is Yoga.
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4. We may now consider whether, in view of the final identifi-
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cation of these two elements in their highest, there may not be
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something more practical than sympathy in their lower elements -- I
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mean mutual assistance.
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I am glad to think that the Path of the Wise has become much
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smoother and shorter than it was when I first trod it; for this very
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reason that the old antinomies of Magick and Yoga have been
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completely resolved.
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You all know what Yoga is. Yoga means union. And you all know
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how to do it by shutting off the din of the intellectual boiler
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factory, and allowing the silence of starlight to reach the ear. It
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is the emancipation of the exalted from the thrall of the commonplace
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expression of Nature.
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5. Now what is Magick? Magick is the science and art of
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causing change to occur in conformity with the Will. How do we
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achieve this? By exalting the will to the point where it is master
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of circumstance. And how do we do this? By so ordering every
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thought, word and act, in such a way that the attention is constantly
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recalled to the chosen object.
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6. Suppose I want to evoke the 'Intelligence' of Jupiter. I
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base my work upon the correspondences of Jupiter. I base my mathema-
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tics on the number 4 and its subservient numbers 16, 34, 136. I
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employ the square or rhombus. For my sacred animal I choose the
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eagle, or some other sacred to Jupiter. For my perfume, saffron --
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for my libation some preparation of opium or a generous yet sweet and
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powerful wine such as port. For my magical weapon I take the scep-
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tre; in fact, I continue choosing instruments for every act in such a
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way that I am constantly reminded of my will to evoke Jupiter. I
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even constrain *every* object. I extract the Jupiterian elements
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from all the complex phenomena which surround me. If I look at my
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carpet, the blues and purples are the colours which stand out as
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Light against an obsolescent and indeterminate background. And thus
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I carry on my daily life, using every moment of time in constant
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self-admonition to attend to Jupiter. The mind quickly responds to
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this training; it very soon automatically rejects as unreal anything
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which is not Jupiter. Everything else escapes notice. And when the
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time comes for the ceremony of invocation which I have been consis-
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tently preparing with all devotion and assiduity, I am quickly
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inflamed. I am attuned to Jupiter, I am pervaded by Jupiter, I am
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absorbed by Jupiter, I am caught up into the heaven of Jupiter and
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wield his thunderbolts. Hebe and Ganymedes bring me wine; the Queen
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of the Gods is throned at my side, and for my playmates are the
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fairest maidens of the earth.
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7. Now what is all this but to do in a partial (and if I may
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say so, romantic) way what the Yogi does in his more scientifically
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complete yet more austerely difficult methods? And here the advan-
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tage of Magick is that the process of initiation is spontaneous and,
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so to speak, automatic. You may begin in the most modest way with
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the evocation of some simple elemental spirit; but in the course of
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the operation you are compelled, in order to attain success, to deal
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with higher entities. Your ambition grows, like every other organ-
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ism, by what it feeds on. You are very soon led to the Great Work
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itself; you are led to aspire to the Knowledge and Conversation of
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the Holy Guardian Angel, and this ambition in turn arouses automati-
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cally further difficulties the conquest of which confers new powers.
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In the Book of the Thirty Aethyrs, commonly called 'The Vision and
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the Voice', it becomes progressively difficult to penetrate each
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Aethyr. In fact, the penetration was only attained by the initia-
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tions which were conferred by the Angel of each Aethyr in its turn.
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There was this further identification with Yoga practices recorded in
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this book. At times the concentration necessary to dwell in the
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Aethyr became so intense that definitely Samadhic results were
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obtained. We see then that the exaltation of the mind by means of
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magical practices leads (as one may say, in spite of itself) to the
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same results as occur in straightforward Yoga.
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I think I ought to tell you a little more about these visions.
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The method of obtaining them was to take a large topaz beautifully
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engraved with the Rose and Cross of forty-nine petals, and this topaz
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was set in a wooden cross of oak painted red. I called this the
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shew-stone in memory of Dr. Dee's famous shew-stone. I took this in
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my hand and proceeded to recite in the Enochian or Angelic language
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the Call of the Thirty Aethyrs, using in each case the special name
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appropriate to the Aethyr. Now all this went very well until about
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the 17th, I think it was, and then the Angel, foreseeing difficulty
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in the higher or remoter Aethyrs, gave me this instruction. I was to
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recite a chapter from the Q'uran: what the Mohammedans call the
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'Chapter of the Unity.' 'Qol: Hua Allahu achad; Allahu assamad:
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lam yalid walam yulad; walam yakun lahu kufwan achad.' I was to say
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this, bowing myself to the earth after each chapter, a thousand and
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one times a day, as I walked behind my camel in the Great Eastern Erg
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of the Sahara. I do not think that anyone will dispute that this was
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pretty good exercise; but my point is that it was certainly very good
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Yoga.
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From what I have said in previous lectures you will all recog-
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nise that this practice fulfils all the conditions of the earlier
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stages of Yoga, and it is therefore not surprising that it put my
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mind in such a state that I was able to use the Call of the Thirty
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Aethyrs with much greater efficacy than before.
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8. Am I then supposed to be saying that Yoga is merely the
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hand-maiden of Magick, or that Magick has no higher function than to
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supplement Yoga? By no means. it is the co-operation of lovers;
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which is here a symbol of the fact. The practices of Yoga are almost
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essential to success in Magick -- at least I may say from my own
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experience that it made all the difference in the world to my magical
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success, when I had been thoroughly grounded in the hard drill of
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Yoga. But -- I feel absolutely certain that I should never have
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obtained success in Yoga in so short a time as I did had I not spent
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the previous three years in the daily practice of magical methods.
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9. I may go so far as to say that just before I began Yoga
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seriously, I had almost invented a Yogic method of practising Magick
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in the stress of circumstances. I had been accustomed to work with
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full magical apparatus in an admirably devised temple of my own. Now
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I found myself on shipboard, or in some obscure bedroom of Mexico
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City, or camped beside my horse among the sugar canes in lonely
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tropical valleys, or couched with my rucksack for all pillow on bare
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volcanic heights. I had to replace my magical apparatus. I would
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take the table by my bed, or stones roughly piled, for my altar. My
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candle or my Alpine Lantern was my light. My ice-axe for the wand,
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my drinking flask for the chalice, my machete for the sword, and a
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chapati or a sachet of salt for the pantacle of art! Habit soon
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familiarised these rough and ready succedanea. But I suspect that it
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may have been the isolation and the physical hardship itself that
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helped, that more and more my magical operation became implicit in my
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own body and mind, when a few months later I found myself performing
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*in full* operations involving the Formula of the Neophyte (for which
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see my treatise 'Magick') without any external apparatus at all.
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10. A pox on all these formalistic Aryan sages! Unless one
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wants to be very pedantic, it is rather absurd to contend that this
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form of ritual forced upon me, first by external and next by internal
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circumstances, was anything else but a new form of Asana, Pranayama,
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Mantra-Yoga, and Pratyahara in something very near perfection; and it
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is therefore not surprising that the Magical exaltation resulting
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from such ceremonies was in all essential respects the equivalent of
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Samyama.
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On the other hand, the Yoga training was an admirable aid to
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that final concentration of the Will which operates the magical
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ecstasy.
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11. This then is reality: direct experience. How does it
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differ from the commonplace every-day experience of sensory impres-
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sions which are so readily shaken by the first breath of the wind of
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intellectual analysis?
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Well, to answer first of all in a common-sense way, the differ-
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ence is simply that the impression is deeper, is less to be shaken.
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Men of sense and education are always ready to admit that they may
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have been mistaken in the quality of their observation of any pheno-
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menon, and men a little more advanced are almost certain to attain to
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a placid kind of speculation as to whether the objects of sense are
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not mere shadows on a screen.
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I take off my glasses. Now I cannot read my manuscript. I had
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two sets of lenses, one natural, one artificial. If I had been
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looking through a telescope of the old pattern I should have had
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three sets of lenses, two artificial. If I go and put on somebody
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else's glasses I shall get another kind of blur. As the lenses of my
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eyes change in the course of my life, what my sight tells me is
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different. The point is that we are quite unable to judge what is
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the truth of the vision. Why then do I put on my glasses to read?
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Only because the particular type of illusion produced by wearing them
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is one which enables me to interpret a pre-arranged system of hiero-
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glyphics in a particular sense which I happen to imagine I want. It
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tells me nothing whatever about the object of my vision -- what I
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call the paper and the ink. Which is the dream? The clear legible
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type or the indecipherable blur?
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12. But in any case any man who is sane at all does make a
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distinction between the experience of daily life and the experience
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of dream. It is true that sometimes dreams are so vivid, and their
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character so persistently uniform that men are actully deceived into
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believing that places they have seen in dreams repeatedly are places
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that they have known in a waking life. But they are quite capable of
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criticising this illusion by memory, and they admit the deception.
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Well, in the same way the phenomena of high Magick and Samadhi have
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an authenticity, and confer an interior certainty, which is to the
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experience of waking life as that is to a dream.
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But, apart from all this, experience is experience; and the real
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guarantee that we have of the attainment of reality is its rank in
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the hierarchy of the mind.
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13. Let us ask ourselves for a moment what is the characteris-
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tic of dream impressions as judged by the waking mind. Some dreams
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are so powerful tht they convince us, even when awake, of their
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reality. Why then do we criticise and dismiss them? Because their
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contents are incoherent, because the order of nature to which they
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belong does not properly conform with the kind of experience which
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does hang together -- after a fashion. Why do we criticise the
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reality of waking experience? On precisely similar grounds. Because
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in certain respects it fails to conform with our deep instinctive
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consciousness of the structure of the mind. *Tendency!* We *happen*
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to be that kind of animal.
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14. The result is that we accept waking experience for what it
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is within certain limits. At least we do so to this extent, that we
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base our action upon the belief that, even if it is not philoso-
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phically real, it is real enough to base a course of action upon it.
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What is the ultimate prctical test of conviction? Just this,
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that it is our standard of conduct. I put on these glasses in order
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to read. I am quite certain that the blurred surface will become
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clear when I do so. Of course, I may be wrong. I may have picked up
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some other body's glasses by mistake. I might go blind before I
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could get them into position. Even such confidence has limits; but
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it is a real confidence, and this is the explanation of why we go
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ahead with the business of life. When we think it over, we know that
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there are all sorts of snags, that it is impossible to formulate any
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proposition which is philosophically unassailable, or even one which
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is so from a practical standpoint. We admit to ourselves that there
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are all sorts of snags; but we take our chance of that, and go ahead
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in the general principles inculcated by our experience of nature. It
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is, of course, quite easy to prove that experience is impossible. To
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begin with, our consciousness of any phenomenon is never the thing
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itself, but only a hieroglyphic symbol of it.
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Our position is rather that of a man with a temperamental motor-
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car; he has a vague theory that it ought to go, on general princi-
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ples; but he is not quite sure how it will perform in any given
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circumstances. Now the experience of Magick and Yoga is quite above
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all this. The possibility of criticising the other types of experi-
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ence is based upon the possibility of expressing our impressions in
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adequate terms; and this is not at all the case with the results of
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Magick and Yoga. As we have already seen, every attempt at expres-
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sion in ordinary language is futile. Where the hero of the adventure
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is tied up with a religious theory, we get the vapid and unctuous
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bilgewater of people like St. John of the Cross. All Christian
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Mystics are tarred with the same brush. Their abominable religion
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compels them to every kind of sentimentality; and the theory of
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original sin vitiates their whole position, because instead of the
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noble and inspiring Trance of Sorrow they have nothing but the
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miserable, cowardly, and selfish sense of guilt to urge them to
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undertake the Work.
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15. I think we may dismiss altogether from our minds every
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claim to experience made by any Christian of whatever breed of
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spiritual virus as a mere morbid reflection, the apish imitation of
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the true ecstasies and trances. All expressions of the real thing
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must partake of the character of that thing, and therefore only that
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language is permissible which is itself released from the canon of
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ordinary speech, exactly as the trance is unfettered by the laws of
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ordinary consciousness. In other words, the only proper translation
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is in poetry, art and music.
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16. If you examine the highest poetry in the light of common
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sense, you can only say that it is rubbish; and in actual fact you
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cannot so examine it at all, because there is something in poetry
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which is not in the words themselves, which is not in the images
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suggested by the words 'O windy star blown sideways up the sky!'
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True poetry is itself a magic spell which is a key to the ineffable.
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With music this thesis is so obvious as hardly to need stating.
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Music has no expressed intellectual content whatever, and the sole
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test of music is its power to exalt the soul. It is then evident
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that the composer is himself attempting to express in sensible form
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some such sublimities as are attained by those who practise Magick
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and Yoga as they should.
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17. The same is true of plastic art, but evidently in much less
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degree; and all those who really know and love art are well aware
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that classical painting and sculpture are rarely capable of producing
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these transcendent orgasms of ecstasy, as in the case of the higher
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arts. One is bound to the impressions of the eye; one is drawn back
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to the contemplation of a static object. And this fact has been so
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well understood in modern times by painters that they have endea-
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voured to create an art within an art; and this is the true explana-
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tion of such movements as 'surrealisme.' I want to impress upon you
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that the artist is in truth a very much superior being to the Yogi or
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the Magician. He can reply as St. Paul replied to the centurion who
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boasted of his Roman citizenship 'With a great sum obtained I this
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freedom'; and Paul, fingering the Old School Tie, sneered: "But I
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was free born.'
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18. It is not for us here to enquire as to how it should happen
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that certain human beings possess from birth this right of intimacy
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with the highest reality, but Blavatsky was of this same opinion that
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the natural gift marks the acquisition of the rank in the spiritual
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hierarchy to which the student of Magick and Yoga aspires. He is, so
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to speak, an artist in the making; and it is perhaps not likely that
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his gifts will have become sufficiently automatic in his present
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incarntion to produce the fruits of his attainment. Yet, undoubted-
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ly, there have been such cases, and that within my own experience.
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19. I could quote you the case of a man -- a very inferior and
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wishy-washy poet -- who undertook for a time very strenuously the
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prescribed magical practices. He was very fortunate, and attained
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admirable results. No sooner had he done so that his poetry itself
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became flooded with supernal light and energy. He produced master-
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pieces. And then he gave up his Magick because the task of further
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progress appalled him. The result was that his poetry fell
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completely away to the standard of wet blotting paper.
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20. Let me tell you also of one man almost illiterate, a
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Lancashire man who had worked in a mill from the age of nine years.
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He had studied for years with the Toshophists with no results. Then
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he corresponded with me for some time; he had still no results. He
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came to stay with me in Sicily. One day as we went down to bathe we
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stood for a moment on the brink of the cliff which led down to the
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little rocky cove with its beach of marvellous smooth sand.
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I said something quite casually -- I have never been able to
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remember what it was -- nor could he ever remember -- but he suddenly
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dashed down the steep little path like a mountain goat, threw off his
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cloak and plunged into the sea. When he came back, his very body had
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become luminous. I saw that he needed to be alone for a week to
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complete his experience, so I fixed him up in an Alpine tent in a
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quiet dell under broad-spreading trees at the edge of a stream. From
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time to time he sent me his magical record, vision after vision of
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amazing depth and splendour. I was so gratified with his attainment
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that I showed these records to a distinguished literary critic who
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was staying with me at the time. A couple of hours later, when I
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returned to the Abbey, he burst out upon me a flame of excitement.
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'Do you know what this is?' he cried. I answered casually that it
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was a lot of very good visions. 'Bother your visions,' he exclaimed,
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'didn't you notice the style? It's pure John Bunyan!' It was.
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21. But all this is neither here nor there. There is only one
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thing for anybody to do on a path, and that is to make sure of the
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next step. And the fact which we all have to comfort us is this:
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that all human beings have capacities for attainment, each according
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to his or her present position.
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For instance, with regard to the power of vision on the astral
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plane, I have been privileged to train many hundreds of people in the
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course of my life, and only about a dozen of them were incapable of
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success. In one case this was because the man had already got beyond
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all such preliminary exercise; his mind immediately took on the
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formless condition which transcends all images, all thought. Other
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failures were stupid people who were incapable of making an experi-
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ment of any sort. They were a mass of intellectual pride and preju-
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dice, and I sent them away with an injunction to go to Jane Austen.
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But the ordinary man and woman get on very well, and by this I do not
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mean only the educated. It is, in fact, notorious that, among many
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of the primitive races of mankind, strange powers of all kinds
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develop with amazing florescence.
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22. The question for each one of us is then: first of all, to
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acertain our present positions; secondly, to determine our proper
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directions; and, thirdly, to govern ourselves accordingly.
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The question for me is also to describe a method of procedure
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which will be sufficiently elastic to be useful to every human being.
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I have tried to do this by combining the two paths of Magick and
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Yoga. If we perform the preliminary practices, each according to his
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capacity, the result will surely be the acquisition of a certain
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technique. And this will become much easier as we advance, especial-
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ly if we bear it well in mind not to attempt to discriminate between
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the two methods as if they were opposing schools, but to use the one
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to help out the other in an emergency.
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23. Of course, nobody understands better than I do that,
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although nobody can do your work for you, it is possible to make use
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-- to a certain very limited extent -- of other people's experience,
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and the Great Order which I have the honour to serve has appointed
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what I think you will agree is a very satisfactory and practical
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curriculum.
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24. You are expected to spend three months at least on the
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study of some of the classics on the subject. The chief object of
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this is not to instruct you, but to familiarise you with the ground
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work, and in particular to prevent you getting the idea that there is
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any right or wrong in matters of opinion. You pass an examination
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intended to make sure that your mind is well grounded in this matter,
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and you become a Probationer. Your reading will have given you some
|
||
indication as to the sort of thing you are likely to be good at, and
|
||
you select such practices as seem to you to promise well. You go
|
||
ahead with these, and keep a careful record of what you do, and what
|
||
results occur. After eleven months you submit a record to your
|
||
superior; it is his duty to put you right where you have gone wrong,
|
||
and particularly to encourage you where you think you have failed.
|
||
25. I say this because one of the most frequent troubles is
|
||
that people who are doing excellent work throw it up because they
|
||
find that Nature is not what they thought it was going to be. But
|
||
this is the best test of the reality of any experience. All those
|
||
which conform with your idea, which flatter you, are likely to be
|
||
illusions. So you become a Neophyte; and attack the Task of a
|
||
Zelator.
|
||
There are further grades in this system, but the general prin-
|
||
ciples are always the same -- the principles of scientific study and
|
||
research.
|
||
26. We end where we began. 'The wheel has come full circle.'
|
||
We are to use the experience of the past to determine the experience
|
||
of the future, and as that experience increases in quantity it also
|
||
improves in quality. And the Path is sure. And the End is sure.
|
||
For the End is the Path.
|
||
|
||
Love is the law, love under will.
|
||
|
||
|
||
casually -- I have never been able to
|
||
remember what it was -- nor could he ever remember -- but he suddenly
|
||
dashed down the steep little path like a mountain goat, threw off his
|
||
cloak and plunged into the sea. When he came back, hi |