(Lecture delivered January 12, 1930)
I have a large bundle of questions before me — an accumulation of two or three weeks. I shall take them and try to answer them in the order in which I have received them; therefore if any kind friend finds that his or her questions are not answered this afternoon, please be assured that they will be answered at some later date.
In answering questions after this manner, the speaker often wonders just how near he comes successfully to responding to the questions that have been asked him, and this is particularly true as regards a theosophical speaker because he is able to draw not only upon the general exoteric or popular teachings of theosophy which in themselves furnish adequate answers, but also he has more secret teachings which are held secret simply because they are so profound, so difficult, that it would be impossible to draw upon these inner, deeper teachings, except in very small degree.
Here is my point: I cannot adequately answer any question that is asked me without going at least in part to this fountain of the ancient wisdom which these inner secret teachings are. Were I to limit my answers to the exoteric teachings, as you will find them in our literature, I should merely tell you, from this platform, what you could find in our books. But neither you nor I would feel fully satisfied with this, and therefore in some degree, as I have just said, I am obliged to turn to the esoteric side of our philosophy; and this I can do only in very limited degree, and do so under very heavy restrictions. In this situation lies the difficulty.
What can a speaker do under conditions, in circumstances, such as these? I tell you what I do. I go inside of my own being, and I seek the inspiration and illumination that every human being has in the core of his essence. I go within, I look within, I follow the still small pathway towards the spiritual self which all the great sages and seers of the human race have taught us of; and the wisdom and knowledge stored up in the spiritual self I draw upon, mayhap but a little, mayhap on occasion in larger degree, and take from this storehouse of wisdom and knowledge which every human being is in the core of the core of himself — his inner god; for that is what each and every one of you is: an incarnate divinity.
Now please look at the lesson that we may learn in following this process. This process of looking within is the heart of all religion, the secret of all philosophy, and the explanation of all science. When men know that they have within themselves this fountain of spiritual being, this Pierian spring at which they may drink, they know that therein lies the explanation of everything, because this inner nature contains an understanding of everything. Your self is not separated from the universe in which you live and move and have your being, for it is an integral part of that universe. You are, each one of you, an inseparable part of the universe in which you are. You are it. It is you, and you are it.
So consequently, by this penetrating within, by this following ever more inwards towards the inner light which ever recedes the farther you advance, and which ever broadens into a still greater splendor, you come to realize what you are — the very essence of the universe — and also that as your essential nature is spiritual understanding, therefore you can draw upon this fountain of understanding, and if you do so successfully and in large degree, you become a very oracle of the gods.
These are not poetic words; they are not mere poetical phrases; they are actual facts of being. Man, know thyself, and thou shalt know the universe, for the spirit of the universe is your spirit. You are a spark of the Central Fire which is all-permeant, permeates everything. Think! See the inspiration, see the dignity, which this truth gives to humankind, for a realization of this noble fact makes man akin to a god who walks the earth.
Whence come human intelligence, human consciousness, and this godlike faculty of understanding? How can you understand anything, if essentially you are not it? You would be alien to it, out of tuneful vibration with it, if you were not essentially the same. You could not interpret it if you were radically different from it; but being it radically, and because you know yourself, therefore can you know everything. Hence human intelligence, human consciousness, and the godlike faculty of understanding, come from within yourself, because they are there, and fundamentally the essence of man is intelligence, consciousness, and understanding.
Here is my first question:
"'A materialist, brought face to face with the more subtle, more vital, issues of the spirit, is like a lost child.' Why?"
This question springs from a thoughtful mind. The materialist is like a lost child because he has lost his way in life and in thought. His consciousness of things of the spirit is not awakened, or rather his brain-mind does not know what he himself is within. He has taught himself and brought himself to live merely in the manifold phenomena of material existence, so that all his consciousness is separated into particulars — scattered, diffused — and he thus has no self-conscious realization of the inner god, of what he is in his inmost being. Naturally he is thus lost in consciousness; he does not understand. I tell you that you will get in this universe just what you desire, just what you want, just what you aim for, and nothing else.
If you are a materialist, you will be one of the laggards in the evolutionary race, remaining such for age after age until you awaken and "take the kingdom of heaven by violence," in other words, take your spiritual heritage. Willful ignorance blinds you; and the materialist is willfully ignorant, willfully blind, for he will not recognize the facilities within himself. He looks without instead of within. That is why he is blind.
The childish talk that we hear sometimes about the value of material things! Why, friends, things of matter are for use, not that man should subject himself to them. Why not live in the noblest part of your being, in your own noblest facilities: in your understanding, in your spiritual will, in the illumination springing from this Pierian fount within? Why be subject to things of a merely transitory character? Do you want to be all body, all vehicle; or the intelligence and understanding directing it? Take your choice. You will get just what you aim at; and towards that point whither man's soul is most strongly attracted will he travel the evolutionary course.
If your instincts and your thoughts and your desires be earthwards, earthward will you go, for earthwards is your attraction; and if your instincts and your will and your understanding and your aspiration are upwards towards the stars and the immortal suns, thither will you travel in the evolutionary course. These are facts; the same rule applies even in the common affairs of life. The things upon which a man sets his heart he struggles for, and gets them; and precisely the same rule holds man in nature's unerring balance of justice. In the pan of the balance into which you have thrown the strongest elements and affections of your character will you be found yourself when you are weighed in life's balance. That is the meaning of the ancient Egyptian symbolic picture of the man's heart being weighed in the balance.
Question two: "Is there such a thing as 'The Music of the Spheres,' or is the phrase a poetic figure of speech?"
I think that I answered a question very closely alike to this one two weeks ago. There is indeed such a thing as the Music of the Spheres, a very real thing. Every motion of material substance, among other phenomena accompanying that motion, is accompanied with a sound. That sound may be too great for our imperfect ears to sense, or to take note of; or it may come within the limited gamut of sound that evolution has brought our auditory sense to understand or to take in. In the latter case we are aware of the physical sound, in the former case not, but the sound is there just the same.
The musical harmonies throughout nature are going on all the time. Everything that moves, sings as it moves; and all things are moving. Nothing is absolutely inert, consequently everything sings, and the stars in their majestic cyclical motions, and the planets in their orbits, sing the song of the spheres; but our senses are not attuned to take it in. Therefore we don't hear it. Do you know how Shakespeare beautifully describes this in a passage in his Merchant of Venice, Act 5, Scene 1?
"There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it."
Shakespeare in this passage was merely repeating the teachings of the ancient Greek Pythagoreans, which teachings had come down to his time through the writings of the earlier Christian theologians and mainly in the teachings of the pseudo-Dionysius, called the Areopagite. The Pythagorean doctrine is our theosophical teaching also, and the matter is now becoming somewhat understood even by the ultramodern scientific researchers, to the effect that every material thing in movement produces, among other phenomena, sound.
What a beautiful thought it is! Our very bodies sing, had we the ears to hear the combined harmony of the atoms composing that sound. Every particle of matter which seems to be to the physical vision, to the physical ear, so still and so inert, sings its song, and so do the celestial bodies chant their heavenly hymns, not, as Shakespeare says — making a mistake in his Hebrew grammar — "to the young-eyed Cherubins," but to the immortal gods; but the meaning is the same.
Yes, verily there is not only a Music of the Spheres, but there is music everywhere, and man's poor interpretative facility attempts to seize some of these celestial harmonies, and the result is that we have what we call human music, beautiful in its way indeed, but oh, how imperfect, as compared with nature's natural harmonies.
The next time when you pass a fellow human being on the street, no longer look upon him as an imperfect fellow, no longer let your eyes rest upon him as a being of mere flesh and blood and bones; but remember that you have just passed an imbodied god in his higher being, full of mysteries, so that his very body is singing a hymn, had you the ears to hear it. Love your fellow human beings. Love is a magical open sesame to some of nature's most mystic secrets.
"Who are the composers of the Music of the Spheres?"
Isn't that question human! Who did it? Oh, friends, the music IS! You as human beings are it itself. Who makes the atom sing? They sing, all these entities, from the music in their own spirit-souls; they can do naught else but sing. They are harmony in their inmost being, and this harmony wells up as from a fountain and comes out and expresses itself in song.
"What is enthusiasm? Is it merely an unaccustomed influx of the higher life-forces?"
I think that it is a good deal more, unless, indeed, the phrase, higher life-forces is intended to include the spiritual and intellectual faculties of man. Enthusiasm is in part a vision, imperfect it may be, partial it certainly is, but a vision of reality. And when man sees, he knows what he sees, and he sees what he knows. He therefore has conviction; and conviction and vision combined, produce enthusiasm. The ancient peoples, you know, thought that enthusiasm was inspiration, a form of inspiration from the gods. So it is. The ancient philosophers thought that it was from the god within.
Of course there are various kinds of enthusiasm. Some people confuse enthusiasm with mere physical vitality, animal magnetism, animal spirits; but that is not enthusiasm. Enthusiasm is the infilling of the soul with a conviction that such or another is so, or such or another thing is thus; and this conviction leads to an inner vision of it — and these two combined produce enthusiasm which makes men great. Enthusiasm produces tremendous effects in the world. It makes civilizations and unmakes them. It is the inspiration behind genius, and it is one of the qualities which make men different from beasts. The beasts have latent in them all that man has, but they are not awakened to self-conscious realization of it all. Man is a little more awakened. Therefore he has enthusiasms; he has consciously the feeling of the inspiration that comes with almighty love; and he also has compassion, pity, fellow-feeling, and how divine these things are! How harmonious! Love is the root of them all — not ordinary human love, but impersonal love which is the very cement of the universe, harmony.
"When my brother was a little boy, his mother gave him a book with pictures of angels in it. After studying them intently for some time, he said: 'Mother, how do the angels get their nighties on over their wings?' Can you answer that one? Are there any such creatures as angels with wings?"
Why should this kind questioner ask me this question? I don't think angels have wings. I don't think that angels wear such night garments. I don't think that they need them. If I were to tell you that I thought that there were such spiritual entities in the vast spaces of infinitude as angels, you would immediately think that I meant beings resembling those familiar Christian pictures of angels; and perhaps you might imagine that I had in mind some of those bodiless heads with wings, flying around in the air.
Now, in the first place, why should it be supposed that an angel has a man's body, or rather, has a body copied in shape after a man's physical body? A man's physical body is an exceedingly imperfect vehicle.
"Angel" is an interesting word. It is a word of Greek origin, having the meaning of "Messenger," one who carries a message, an intermediary. Using the word in that sense, as belonging to the class of intermediary spiritual beings, then I most decidedly do believe in 'angels,' but I don't call them angels. I don't like the word. That word has been ruined by misconceptions which have produced various kinds of foolish pictorial representations; the word has been spoiled in our mental vision. I call these spiritual intermediaries gods, and demigods, which words come much nearer to the truth than does the Orthodox Christian conception of angels.
Why on earth, or rather in heaven or in the spaces, should these spiritual intermediaries be given human bodies or bodies resembling human physical frames? Such pictorial representations as exist in Christian art originated in the human egoism of the early Christian artists. Uninitiated men have always been given to representing spiritual beings after their own pattern. Men have looked upon themselves as the lords of creation, etc., and consequently thought that spiritual beings more or less resembled in shape their own human physical bodies. If men knew the truth, they would never use that phrase — lords of creation — again.
There are beings in the cosmos, in the universe, so much higher than men, that could we see them and understand them, we should seem utterly insignificant in our own vision; and most certainly we would not give to the gods bodies fashioned after our own: after that human body which an English philosopher once very neatly called a "forked radish," having two arms and two legs, and a very ugly face, and a still more ugly head, and possessing five toes and five fingers, and other appendages. The present human form is merely a transitory evolutionary production, and the human race is going to change its form entirely in the distant future.
Why not think of these intermediary beings as having other forms or shapes of a spiritual type and character? Why could they not be a flame of glory, or a sphere of splendor? Why give to them wings like gross physical beings of earth? Why give to them wings like those possessed by birds, eagles, vultures, dragonflies? Don't you see how ridiculous the idea is?
But I will tell you why the ancients sometimes put wings on human bodies. It was because birds, to these early symbologists, whose ideas were copied by the Christians, were recognized to be speedy fliers. Wings therefore were used symbolically in artistic representations as meaning speedy movement, and the ability to rise above the material earth into clearer and more ethereal atmospheres. The entire idea was merely symbolic.
Do I believe in angels? Yes, I believe in the gods — call them gods, or angels, or devas, or spirits of the universe. It matters not by what name you call them. In the beings themselves I believe, because I myself am a self-conscious man. I have a logical faculty; I have intellectual power; I have an understanding heart; I have used the faculties of my mind, and from all this I know that the human race is not the only tribe of self-conscious, sentient, and intelligent beings in all the spaces of boundless infinitude; and as these other races of spiritual entities exist, they must likewise exist in all grades of evolution. If not, then you are faced with the unsolvable problem why they should exist in one evolutionary grade alone.
But, on the other hand, theosophists fill the universe full with conscious intelligences: with bright flames of intelligence — call them gods, or devas, or cosmic spirits, or by whatever other name you may please. Then our human race is explained as being merely one family of this vast hierarchy of bright intelligences.
No, I don't think that angels have wings, and I don't think that they use nighties. But in order to make my answer more complete, I will merely hint at a certain fact, to wit: in considering the numberless hierarchies of conscious and self-conscious and quasi-conscious beings existing in all grades, which infill the universe, I have no doubt that some of them are winged, or possess means of locomotion similar to wings such as our birds have.
Even in far past times on earth there were physical creatures who flew and who were not birds, but who possessed a reptilian character. I may remind you of one class only, the pterodactyls.
"I understand from your lectures that none of the planets are peopled with what we call our dead. Will you tell me where they spend the time of their rest between reincarnations?"
This question was sent in to me by a friend. It comes from the Atlantic Coast. This friend presumably has studied and thought over what I have said on other occasions about death. But unfortunately I am not quoted correctly. There are no dead. As Katherine Tingley said: 'Spiritual man is eternal, there are no dead.' People talk of a dead man, but they really mean a dead body. A dead flower, a dead horse, goat, pig, cow, cat, sparrow, whatnot, even a dead world. But I have never heard of a dead energy. I have never heard of a dead spirit. Remember that all of man's interior constitution is a complex of energies, an aggregate of energies. To talk about a dead energy, therefore, is something new to me.
I have said — and I now repeat it — that the average Occidental knows nothing whatsoever of the mystery of death; and this lack of knowledge accounts for the great heartache that Occidentals have when their beloved pass.
Why are we here on this particular planet? It is our theosophical teaching that some of the other planets in our solar system, just as in other solar systems where other planets exist, have inhabitants, each planet having inhabitants of its own kind and type, and of its own degree of evolutionary advancement, some being more advanced than are we men, and some less advanced.
It is likewise our theosophical teaching that when the monadic essence, the spiritual part of the human being, breaks its connection with the physical body, leaving that body to disintegrate into the chemical elements which compose it, then this monadic essence enters upon another pathway of evolutionary progress in other spheres in the ethereal and spiritual realms, during the course of which it also passes through certain minor turns, cyclical turns, these turns being on and through some of the other physical planets of our solar system, just as one phase of that evolutionary journey of the monadic essence is here on earth where it manifests itself as a man.
Our earth is but one of the stages of the evolutionary journey of the inner god, and it expresses itself here on earth as a man. But to say that I said, or that any other theosophical teacher has ever said, that some of our other planets are peopled with our dead — never! Our dead are here. Dust to the dust. Man's inner constitution is a bright and lovely fire, a deathless energy. It dies not ever, nor does it ever taste of decay. It is a spark of the Central Fire, and its pilgrimage is throughout eternity. It passes from mansion to mansion of experiences in what the Christians call "My Father's House" — the universe — and this earth is one such mansion.
If I had the time and could obtain the permission, I would tell you some of the secrets of what men call death. Nor are these secrets selfishly kept forever from you. You may receive them if you will. Every honest heart which comes to our theosophical Temple and gives the right knock, will find the portals of truth swinging open at his knock. "Knock and it shall be opened unto you; ask and ye shall receive." This is a promise which I repeat, as being the statement and promise of all the sages of all the ages. There is truth in the universe. That truth is to be obtained, but you will never get it until you yourself so long for it that by instinct you will knock and knock aright, and then your knock will be heard. You will then know where to go to find truth.
As a little hint for you, let me tell you that The Theosophical Society was founded by the Masters of Wisdom and Compassion in order to form, as it were, a Temple of cosmic truth, where all who might apply, and apply aright, with clean heart and open mind and unveiled and eager spiritual perception might be given the wisdom of the gods — theosophy. Great words, those of you may say who don't know what theosophy is; and I answer: Yes, but true ones. Here is a challenge for you: Study theosophy, study it, and I promise that if you are a normal man or woman, you will find that I tell you truth. You will receive what your soul longs for.
The monadic essences pass their time, between reincarnations on this earth, in following this evolutionary pilgrimage, in this peregrination of the spiritual splendor within, called the monad, from sphere to sphere, from life to life; and so far as the human soul is concerned, the ordinary human I — not the monadic essence which is divine, godlike — but that which makes you a man, the human soul: this human soul is gathered back into the bosom of its Father, to use the language of the Hebrews; and its Father is the monadic essence, the parent Fire. There the indrawn spark, the human soul, rests in bliss unspeakable, until nature's laws draw the monadic essence again towards this earth. Then there reissues forth from the monad the human soul of the man that was, now attracted by familiar scenes, familiar vibrations, drawn earthwards by familiar attractions; and thus a little child is born on earth.
"Aside from the significance that theosophists, and also people of other religions, attach to the New Year cycle, do you attach a particular significance to the opening of the new decade, 1930?"
Yes and no. The situation is this: If the questioner means our modern method of reckoning time, our modern chronology, 1910-20-30-40, and so forth, then there is no particular importance that we attach to it, because our era, the so-called Christian era in the Occident, is supposed to date from the birth of Jesus; but as nobody knows when Jesus was born, can a chronology of that kind have any esoteric value?
But the theosophist, in common with all thinking men of the great past, attaches enormous importance to every decade or period of ten years, as such, outside of chronology, because such decade, as a time factor, is parallel with, and actually is the same as, the ten or eleven year period of the solar spots. That solar cycle controls more things on earth than men realize; and it is only within the last twenty or thirty, it may be forty, years, that modern astronomers are beginning to check off the human statistics connected with the solar spots cycle.
Very little they know as yet; but they are beginning to take cognizance of the fact that there is some connection between the cycle of the solar spots and affairs in human history, and with those other matters connected with human history which influence men's life greatly, such as agriculture, horticulture, storm periods, cycles of disease, and what not. To this decade or solar spot cycle theosophists attach very great importance indeed.
I might say as a rider to what I have just observed, that during the next ten years those who observe the progress of The Theosophical Society will find something wonderful taking place: an expansion, a growth, a spreading of its power and influence, such as it has never before experienced. It is my most earnest prayer and hope that we may be able (and I verily believe we shall be able) to carry the same impetus, the same power, into the ten-year period following the one now opening, and possibly into the third ten-year period following the second. Whether I be here or not matters nothing at all. Katherine Tingley did a marvelous work when she held the reins of administration of The Theosophical Society. The lines were wisely and strongly laid by her. The theosophical train (to use a common human figure of speech) is gathering speed; and (in order not to be too solemn) I will say that it will be an express train before I disappear from among men. You may ask: "Who will then be the engineer?" You will see!
"I understand that during sleep the soul leaves the body and goes through various experiences. What happens in the case of a person suffering from insomnia, or of a person who wakes frequently during the night? Does such a person's soul suffer from being dragged back continually?"
No, for the reason that the person's soul, to use the phraseology of the questioner, has not gone. Obviously. Were it gone, there would be no awakening. There would be no insomnia. But it is true that during sleep, the soul, to use the ordinary word, does depart from the body, and goes through various experiences; and, let me tell you, some of the most wonderful experiences of human existence are passed behind the veil of invisibility. Have you ever thought how mysterious a thing sleep is? That we lay ourselves down at night in our beds in peace and comfort, and with the assurance that we shall be there again in the morning? But just think what happens. Is it suspended animation? It is not. The body is very much alive, but something is different. The body moves, stirs, breathes, snores, may groan, may talk. All these things are reflex actions, nervous reflexes or whatnot; but do you ever see or hear of a sleeping body writing a noble poem, or delivering a lecture on religion or philosophy, or doing an act of magnanimous duty or compassion?
And yet, in the morning something happens. The eyes twitch and open, the man is again there. I will tell you what happens. Sleep — and this case is that of the average man, and of course barring accidental cases, because there are always exceptions to every rule — sleep, as the ancient Greeks said, is the twin brother of death. Hypnos kai thanatos, "sleep and death", are adelphoi, "brothers". Sleep is imperfect death. Death is perfect sleep.
In these words you have the key to what sleep is. The human monadic essence, while the body is resting in peace and quiet, recuperating its forces, is off on rapid peregrinations through the spaces of space — spaces inner and invisible, spaces outer and visible — going through, on a smaller scale, and in minor reaches, what the monadic essence does when the body is finally cast aside at the event that men call death.
In sleep you go to other planets; in sleep you go to the sun mayhap, or even to some star. And alas, listen: in some cases, and thank the immortal gods that they be so very few, the peregrinating entity goes to places of experience whither no human intelligence would willingly go. And I will tell you why: Like attracts like. As ye receive after death what ye have sown, what ye have won and earned, so in sleep for and by the same reason of overmastering attraction, you are drawn thither whither your desires impel you. Take heed. Nature is not mocked. Things do not happen haphazard. What ye sow, ye shall reap; and ye are now reaping what ye have sown. The law of consequences is the same whether in sleep or in death or in life.
If your thoughts are low and vile, to conditions and states which are vile and low will you go. And if your thoughts turn towards the sun, and your vision is set upon the stars, when ye are awake, and your heart is filled with aspiration and almighty love, thither go ye likewise. Overmastering love, attraction, draws you. Death and sleep are twins, for sleep is an imperfect death, and death is a perfect sleeping. I mean every word that I now say, and mean it literally.
In the case of insomniacs, the inner fire is not freed, it is not free, winging its way from earth. But it is held within the spheres of attraction of the body, and thus cannot pass on. Consequently there is a backward and forward movement, pendulum-like, into temporary unconsciousness, and return to the consciousness of the brain-mind — wakefulness; and this is insomnia.
"What is the connection between noise and a soul's re-entrance into the body? Generally the way to wake a person, thus bringing the soul back, is by making a noise. Has this thought any relation to the fact that quiet should reign around the body of a dead person, so that the soul be not interrupted in its separation from the body?"
Generally speaking, yes. But I will tell you a little fact which it may be wise to bear in mind. Throughout the great Orient, throughout most of the world, there is a belief that a sudden and violent awakening of a sleeping person is fraught with danger; and I will tell you that it is so. It is very dangerous. It so happens that nature protects human beings even against the consequences of their own folly and stupidity. But nevertheless it is dangerous. Awaken a sleeping person by making a gentle noise. Increase the noise if needs be. More rarely touch the sleeping body. That is somewhat worse. But under no circumstances ever shake a sleeping man. Be careful — for the reason that when the moment of a man's term on earth comes, the golden chord of life is snapped; and it is similar in violent awakening from sleep. Cases have been known where either death or insanity have supervened.
Death is a blessed release; and there ensues, passing through the brain-mind, even when the body is already becoming rigid, a panorama of all that the entity in and of the body just dead, ever did or thought: of every act it did, of every thought it had, from the earliest day of conscious existence to the last before unconsciousness intervened, there passes a panoramic picture from and across the tablets of memory; and every noise disturbs this. Be still at the bedside of those who have just passed out. Be quiet.
Much the same thing happens, but in minor degree, in the case of a normal, healthy, sleeping person. The mind, although the dreams may not be remembered, is active, constantly making pictures of all kinds: fantastic, truthful it may be, photographic records so to speak, of all that it felt or did in the day or days that have passed; and there is the constant vibrating, like the picture on a screen, of the fabric of the astral brain-mind; and the sudden and violent interruption of this natural process is fraught with grave danger, as I have told you.
Never awaken a person with violence, but always gently, and preferably by speaking. There are mysteries connected with the human being which the wisdom of the Occident has not yet solved, but which the wisdom of the Orient, because so much older, solved aeons and aeons ago. And this wisdom, formulated into human language, is called Brahma-vidya, the "knowledge of the Brahman", the universe; and sometimes atma-vidya, the "knowledge of the self", the spiritual self, of which the human self is a reflection. And this ancient wisdom, tested for innumerable generations in the past, is today called theosophy.
One of the greatest teachings of theosophy is this — and I leave this teaching with you as a parting thought, as I have done so often before — that you are your own creators and makers. None else has made you, god or demon. Ye have made yourselves, and ye are making yourselves for the future; and at the core of the core of each one of you, in the heart of the heart of each one of you, there is a splendid being, a god, a divinity, whence issue into your mind, into your brain-mind and daily life, all the highest faculties that you have, such as understanding and intelligence, compassion, pity, almighty love.
Why not be your inner self? Why not enjoy these faculties? Be them. They are you, and your ordinary brain-mind and brain-mind life, with all its pitiful strife and the suffering and pain that accompany it, are because men will not see the truth.
Those who desire to live in the gutter, let them so live. But for me, give me the stars, for I feel my kinship with my parent, the sun, and I owe allegiance to nothing else. I, like you, am a son of the sun, and the spirit of the cosmic divinity dwells, stainless and deathless, in my soul forever.