Eugene Del Mar Man The Master

There’s magic in the truth;
And only those who find and follow its laws
Can work its miracles.
There’s magic all around us,
In rocks and trees, and in the minds of men,
Deep hidden springs of magic.
He that strikes
The rock aright, may find them where he will.
—ALFRED NOYES: Watchers of the Sky

THE one thing that lives is life. In its universal aspect it is invisible and intangible. The human consciousness cognizes life only after it has assumed form, and it is its changing forms that are usually regarded as life it­self. The Infinite involved itself in form, through which it is now evolving it­self in a process that we call evolution.

There is but One Life, God, The Infinite, Universal Spirit. God must be self-created. God’s love is ever the love of self, for there is naught else. As God is the One Life, and is self-created, the One Life must be self-created. In other words, there is, inherent in life and inseparable from it, the fact of eter­nal living. Fundamentally, all evolution is spiritual, being the unfoldment of Spirit through mind and body; but it is in the changing forms that give evi­dence of this unfoldment that is recognized the progress of evolution.

As the evolutionary process is one of unfoldment of the formless Infi­nite through finite forms, or the pressing out of the Universal through indi­vidual avenues of expression, the evident purpose of the process is that life’s forms shall become both mentally and physically more and more universal and inclusive. In order to do this, they must acquire increasing touch with a more extensive area of form outside of themselves, and to this end must de­velop the means whereby it may be accomplished.

It is beyond question that the forms of life begin in utmost simplicity, and that the factors of time and space convert the more primary forms into those of increasing complexity and variety. A single cell of apparently com­plete similitude of structure is at the base of all of life’s forms, and this is the foundation on which is built every conceivable variety of structure. In fact, complexity is the result of the combination of similarities, exactly as visibili­ty constitutes an aggregate of invisibilities.

It seems evident that life itself knows nothing of different kingdoms or species, or of differentiations of form, faculty, or function. Each form of life obeys the impulse given to it by the One Life, as life finds itself able to un­fold in the terms of the particular texture and complexity of the form. As life unfolds through each form of life, it extends its acquaintance increasingly with the other forms that together constitute the visible universe. It is the de­gree to which life’s forms are capacitated to do this that denotes their plane of development.

Each ascending plane of manifested life circles through its various phases at a more elevated spiral of unfoldment. It retraces its steps, but at a higher altitude. The law of life itself pervades every aspect of life; and while these differ in appearance on each plane of existence, problems that arise at one plane repeat themselves at higher ascents on all other planes. Evolutio­nary activities curve themselves about central principles, and serve to exem­plify them. Each higher altitude renders the problems of the lower one more complicated, through the introduction of a new factor, which the more devel­oped form of life is peculiarly adapted to understand and solve.

On each plane of existence there are developed contrasting degrees of development, from the crudest to the finest, from the most ignorant to the most wise. No plane of existence is constant or static, but each is ever incons­tant and in a state of flux. There are differentiations, variety, and contrast on each plane. On every plane each form of life must either grow or decay; it must overcome or perish; it must become fit to persist, or it will be discarded as unfit. These are the alternatives that are forever being presented.

When Universal Spirit first involved itself into those forms of life which are regarded generally as inanimate it imparted to the mineral kingdom that peculiar quality of life best suited to its general characteristics. Life did not manifest itself equally in all the species of this crudest of all kingdoms. On the contrary, there was then sowed the seeds of that conflict that has ever since and even now actuates the visible universe. It gave birth to conservat­ism and liberalism, to the contrasting impulses of standing still or going on, and to the eternal opposition of these two ever-contrasting tendencies.

It also implanted in this kingdom another tendency, and one which has since become more pronounced with each succeeding plane of manifested life. This tendency is to first acquire, and then to graduate from, the limita­tions of that particular kingdom; and when this tendency has been followed successfully it has always been by the few who idealized and realized the highest ideals of their plane, and then dared to live them.

The ideal of the mineral plane was the vegetable kingdom, entrance to which apparently was denied to the hard precious stones or the dense gold and silver; but which was attained after sons of progress only by its more plastic and receptive elements. It was only as the prevailing ideas of the min­eral realm were transcended that the ideals leading it to the vegetable king­dom became practical aspirations. It was only after the best conceptions rela­tive to the mineral kingdom ceased to be its ruling aspirations that it was re­ceptive to the ideals leading to the next higher kingdom.

The vegetable plane was dominated by a contentment with a fixed resi­dence, but in course of time a higher ideal was evolved by those who re­garded this limitation as unwarranted and stifling to ambition. These aspirants refused to be content to remain rooted to one spot; and their persistent activi­ty finally enabled them to cross the boundary into the broader freedom of the animal kingdom, and there inaugurate a new realm of more extensive activi­ties.

When the animals first took possession of their new domain their de­velopment was almost entirely physical. Their mental powers were but very slightly developed. It was therefore inevitable that they should judge by ap­pearance, which always suggests that power and strength are proportioned to size. So those who regarded themselves as destined to control were the gigan­tic forms of mammoths, mastodons, whales, and the like, and these consti­tuted the aristocracy of those antediluvian days.

The animals unable to compete in physical size were obliged to develop keener senses of detection, or climbing propensities, or the capacity of quick locomotion and hasty exit. Later on, the animal kingdom became agitated and convulsed over the momentous question whether the fashion of four feet was to continue to be the standard number of supports for animals, as contrasted with the recently introduced style of only two, and the hind legs at that!

On this question the opposition was in the vast majority, and it was an evident absurdity—for example—to expect a hundred-foot whale to elevate his head above the ground like an Egyptian obelisk. Indeed, the idea was re­garded as supremely ridiculous except by a few of the most idealistic spirits, who gradually were inspired to stand upright, to develop a hand with an op­posable thumb, to speak their thoughts, and thereby to start the human king­dom on its stormy career of adventure.

Up to this point life had invested its various forms with an instinct of automatic response to environment that enabled them successfully to meet the requirements of their existence within narrow and prescribed limitations. Not being able to think for themselves, life thought for and through them; their education was limited strictly to what was necessary to the preservation of their species, but it was complete within this limitation. With the advent of man it was essential that instinct should be held in abeyance, as its necessary limitations were inconsistent with the faculty of reason that had been con­ferred upon him. Reason was necessarily crude in its beginnings, but appar­ently its possession conferred unlimited capacity of development.

Life has now converted its grant of limited power and automatic ad­justment into one that had no inherent limitations. An eternally expanding in­crease of power was opened to man, and he was given the vision and capacity of earthly dominion. Life’s forms had at length graduated from their infancy, and instead of a nursery tutelage, with fences of protection that could not be surmounted, the bars of limitation were withdrawn, and man entered the new kingdom of form with complete freedom and unlimited resources.

It was long before man’s form suggested the majesty of his new status. For ages he regarded himself as primarily animal, and animal traits pre­dominated, and were idealized. He regarded the material as the realm of cause, and depended upon physical strength for his power and dominion. He even idealized this attribute as his God when he rose to the conception of a power greater than his own; and then clothed this conception with such as­pects of fear and terror as in time enabled the more powerful of his species to bring about the submission and slavery of their fellow-men.

On all planes of life’s forms, including the human, the mass were nec­essarily the slower to develop; but their survival in greater number consti­tuted the support of those few who had been able to make more rapid progress. This was as natural as that the peak of a pyramid requires a base of greater bulk than itself. It is only through contrast that there is a higher and a lower, and every vibration assumes corresponding degrees of rise and fall. On each plane there are contrasting rates of progress, depending upon individual elevation and realization of the ideals leading to the next higher plane.

The history of mankind is one of extremely slow and intermittent progress, covering long eras of practically universal slavery to race ignorance and superstition; comprising various forms of subjection of man to man, as unequal individual development enabled some to take unfair advantage of others; of continued strife and contest and fight, the results of selfishness and egotism; and of many diverse and contrasting forms of government and reli­gion, and of legal, economic, and social life. Man was learning about himself in extending his kingdom over the visible world; he was measuring his de­veloping power with his ever-expanding environment.

Through his continually increasing contact with the visible universe man at length came to recognize that he included within himself all that he was conscious of outside of himself, that he was a universal container, and that the powers of the Infinite flowed through him. With every new discovery in the physical world man became invested with more power over that world, until he realized that this power must only be subject to the limitations of his own consciousness, which he had the freedom and privilege of expanding in­definitely!

In time mental power supplanted that of physical force as man’s recog­nized realm of cause; but freedom of thought was long forbidden, and seldom indeed has it been conferred on man with any fair degree of freedom, nor even exercised except during periods of revolutionary convulsion. Indeed, there has never yet been a normal “Age of Reason,” when men might think and express themselves freely, and without fear of personal harm or danger of social ostracism.

For some time past progressive man has been regarding the mental as the basic realm, and in this consciousness he has made wonderful strides. Realizing thought to be the one instrument whereby the universal energy may be utilized, he has sought to think constructively, and to build into his world of form the beauty and power of his thought creations. Through applied psy­chology he has been enabled to relate his physical self more and more har­moniously with the outside world; and through practical metaphysics he has realized his unity with the Infinite, and thereby opened himself more freely to the inflow of the One Life, that he might make use of it for his more harmo­nious mental and physical adjustments.

When human reason superseded animal instinct the latter was not ex­tinguished, but only held in abeyance, as its continued activity would have been injurious. While human reason was most crude and unreliable in its first stages, still it opened a vista of unlimited progress, which, inevitably, the pos­session of instinct would have stifled. In its higher aspects humanity is now entering its area of intuition, wherein is combined the accuracy of instinct, but divested of its limitations, together with the unlimited scope of reason at its higher phases of development. Intuition denotes the instantaneous inner direction of life invested with the logic of perfected reason.

The realm of spiritual intuition is a higher realm of power than the strictly mental. In the realization of this truth man will place a degree of re­liance on his intuitions that he has never before ventured to do. His reasoning faculties will become more keen, and his thoughts more definite and refined, as his intuitions are cultivated and relied upon, and he will thereby make himself increasingly receptive to the influx of the One Life. The result will be an increasing vital creative impulse that will enable him to convert his ideals into actualities, and render him god-like in his achievements.

Life creates the form of each man in the fashion of his constructive thoughts. One becomes predominantly that which his prevailing thought dic­tates; he determines the mould within himself that life shall fill. With his mentality wide open to the One Life, and increasingly receptive to the divine inflow, his thoughts become more inspired with creative faith and love and wisdom, together with the greater impulse to express these in purposeful thought and constructive action.

Man is divine. He encompasses all of his past, and he has a glorious fu­ture that beckons him on as an inspiration. Man may control the expression of the One Life that pervades his form, and he effects this in proportion as his spiritual life secures control and the God within is given free transit across his mental and physical borders. Then man’s dreams become true, his aspirations are converted into facts, his ideals become practical, and his Being is ex­pressed in thought and manifested in forms of ever-increasing wisdom and beauty.

Man’s realm has no known boundaries. Life itself is tributary to him to the full extent that he opens himself to it, and it offers itself without limit or reservation. He realizes his inner realm to the degree that he affords it a free channel for intelligent expression and constructive activity. As he becomes increasingly conscious of his dominion and control over life’s activities, he opens himself to inner harmonies that offer greater opportunities for broader outer-dominion. As he controls himself he commands the One Life, which reacts to give him dominion over the world of form, of which he now consti­tutes the controlling factor.

The One Life could place but slight trust in the first forms of life, and therefore limited their use and expression of it to immediate touch with the narrowest of environment. As the forms of life reached out for wider influ­ence, their intelligence developed, and the One Life became more generous in its trust and confidence. Finally, with the advent of man, all of these limita­tions were withdrawn, but man’s sense of limitation is overcome only as wise use give him the consciousness of freedom from former bondage.

While there are many gradations of ascent to be attained by man, cer­tainly he has now reached an elevation where he can realize some of the heights yet to be attained. His confidence and trust in himself is not only con­tinuously increasing his control of the outside world, but is also expanding similarly his realization that he is the dominant exponent of that One Life which constitutes the Universal Spirit, the Infinite, God. This conviction must lead inevitably to the truth that man has been given the keys to universal do­minion, and that he may exercise complete control of life as he renders him­self freely receptive both to the centre and circumference of life, and lives equally on each of these as the two contrasting poles of the One Life.

<br “page-break-before:auto;=”” mso-break-type:section-break”=””>EACH A LAW UNTO HIMSELF

Unto each mortal who comes to earth
A ladder is given by God, at birth.
And up this ladder the soul must go,
Step by step, from the valley below;
Step by step, to the centre of space,
On this ladder of lives to the Starting-Place.
Though mine be narrow, and yours be broad,
On my ladder alone can I climb to God.
On your ladder alone can your feet ascend,
For none may borrow, and none may lend.
In useless effort, then, waste no time;
Rebuild your ladder, and climb and climb.
—ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

HOW is it possible for each person to be a law unto himself? Are there not Eternal Principles whose inexorable rule brooks neither exception nor exemption? Are there not human laws that may be broken only under pe­nalty of fine and imprisonment? Is not each one bound both by Divine Prin­ciple, human law, and his own ignorance?

One may well pause before attempting to reply to the stern implications of slavery and impotence involved in these questions. Surface consideration of them would certainly suggest a negative reply, and the admission that man is the slave of Principle, of law, and of ignorance. If he must obey influences from without, influences that he may not govern or control, influences that he neither directs nor overcomes, then indeed must he not be a slave, and not a law unto himself?

The world-teaching has long been, and still is, that man is a slave; and the acceptance of this teaching has indeed made man a slave. But a slave to what? To himself; to his belief in his own slavery. And as a result of this a slave to whom? To those who have been, and are, interested in being the masters of slaves. To what end? The masters’ emolument, power, and domi­nion. The traditional, conventional, and racial belief in man’s essential sla­very has fastened the bonds of slavery on mankind so completely that, in his obsession, he has gloried in his bondage and worshipped the powers that en­slaved him.

Fundamentally, to whom is a man a slave when he is a slave to his own belief? Does this involve a contradiction of terms? Is it slavery or freedom to be a slave to oneself? How can one be a slave to himself without his also be­ing the master of himself? Each man creates his own belief; he may change it as he pleases, and, in fact, he has absolute control over it; so that slavery to one’s belief is no less than an expression of man’s complete freedom to bind himself to whatever extent he may please. And when man, in complete free­dom, shackles himself to suit his chosen manner of thinking, he is simply ex­ercising his privilege of being a law unto himself.

What is it that enslaves man? Is it Eternal Principle, Divine Law, or Truth? These are all indications of the same inevitable sequence of events, and continuity of relationships that enable man to know all that he does know. They are the essentials of a Cosmos, without which chaos would reign supreme. These are the guides, the teachers, and the instructors of man, with­out which there could be no freedom, no purposeful activity, and no assur­ance of desired results.

What are the essentials of the Laws of God? Infinite Love and Infinite Wisdom are of their essence; a Love and a Wisdom that are as broad, as wide, and as deep as the Universe itself! Nothing escapes their notice or at­tention, for they are of the essence of Being, and inhere in its every expres­sion and manifestation. The essence of Truth is freedom, and it is a flat con­tradiction of terms to state that freedom enslaves one. That there is no escape from Eternal Principle constitutes for man his Declaration of Independence, in its guarantee that it will not infringe upon his complete freedom of thought or action.

If one is not bound by the Laws of God, do not the laws of man bind him? Society in its entirety has decreed that none of its units shall contravene certain rules, under penalty of punishment for transgression, when found guilty according to established forms prescribed for that purpose. Speaking generally, these rules have been enacted by society for the common freedom of its members, so that each shall have the same degree of freedom and none shall infringe on the freedom of another. Were man to formulate and execute his laws perfectly, doubtless the result would be perfect equality of freedom of action.

Man’s laws are attempts to formulate the Love and Wisdom of Divine Principle, but they fail in these respects to the extent and degree of man’s ig­norance. The Divine Principle operates with precision and certainty, and with the perfection of both the Love and Wisdom that animate it. It is impersonal and impartial, and carries no recognition of reward or punishment. It knows only cause and effect. Man’s laws are personal and partial, and imperfectly formulated, interpreted, and executed. They do not bind men, but they punish those who exercise their personal freedom beyond the law’s limitations.

Does freedom consist in doing whatever one may desire to do when he pleases to do it? This may be the character of license and bondage that one assumes to be freedom, but the exercise of which will sooner or later con­vince him of his error. In following such a course, it is not long before one flings himself against the adamantine walls of Eternal Principle, which is the guardian of freedom, and in that contact realizes that there is no freedom in conflict with Truth.

While Eternal Principle is inviolable, it may be interpreted and formu­lated only within the range of human understanding; and what man knows of Principle he formulates as natural law. Irrespective of the antiquity or univer­sality of its recognition, one can accept such formulations only as he is able to interpret them. That is all he is capable of knowing at the time. When a great teacher enunciates a conception of Truth, another may know its mean­ing or significance only to the extent of his own understanding. Words are not Truth, nor are the interpretations of words. The acceptance of the same words by many persons constitutes neither a unity of thoughts nor a commu­nity of belief. They may classify themselves under one heading, but only to an approximate degree can they think similarly.

Many separated, differing, and antagonistic Christian sects all accept the same words as their common basis. Even those of the same sect are una­ble to agree in thought and belief, for each one is obliged to give an individu­al interpretation to the formulas which they accept in common. Not only that, but as each unfolds spiritually or develops mentally his interpretation changes, and his belief of today is no longer in agreement with that of yester­day. Each reading of one’s Bible—or any other book, for that matter—will change his belief, as his understanding expands through the capacity of a deeper interpretation of the same words. It is manifest, therefore, that people do not have the same beliefs even when they adopt the same words.

Man holds fast to words and names, or the symbols to which he is ac­customed. These are the forms to which he relates his conceptions. He at­taches himself to them more tenaciously than to his thoughts, for without change of words or symbols his thoughts may traverse heights and depths of wondrous contrast. But one is not controlled by words or symbols in them­selves, but rather by his interpretation of them. He is not governed from without, but from within. That which is without may give opportunity for, or direction to, his thought; but at the most it offers to man, the thinker, the raw material wherewith to manufacture his finished thought-products.

No one can live Truth as such. No one knows Truth, or takes Truth as his guide, for the “naked” Truth may not be known by man. It must be cov­ered by thought and dressed in words. One may have an understanding of Truth, a formulation and an interpretation of it, but these are of necessity in­dividual. While Truth is universal, one’s contact with it is individual. One’s mental consciousness and spiritual realization are each individual. Each per­son is individually responsible for living his own life; and this rests upon the fact of individual contact with Truth, individual formulation, and individual interpretation, all depending upon individual choice.

Each one is free to think as he pleases. No one may dictate the thoughts of another to the point of compulsion. One may offer thought-food to anoth­er, but the latter is not obliged to accept that which is proffered. The general acceptance of traditional and conventional beliefs and racial predilections may find one readily responsive to particular suggestions, but this is merely an inclination that he is free either to follow or reject. Irrespective of outward conditions, inwardly man is essentially free.

Man may exercise whatever degree of freedom he pleases. In man’s ability to enslave himself lies the essence of his freedom. Otherwise he would be an automaton. He has his choice, and his fate is determined by the wisdom with which he exercises it. But whatever his choice, it is his; he is responsible for it, and must receive its allied result. Were another to choose for him, or were he to permit another to dictate his choice, he would lose the benefit of the lesson contained in its effect. If his choice is a passive one, at some future time he will be obliged to make active choice under somewhat similar condi­tions.

What is it that determines one’s decision or choice? It is neither Prin­ciple nor law, for man does not know either; what he knows is his personal interpretation of man’s formulation of these, or his interpretation of other in­terpretations. He cannot merely accept another’s interpretations as such, for this means nothing to him until he has accepted it in his own thought terms.

Therefore each man, under all circumstances, either consciously or subconsciously, must act on his own understanding; and in that sense, and to that extent, certainly he is ever and always a law unto himself. In the very na­ture of things he must live his own life, bear his own responsibility, receive the results of his own living—whether he regards these as rewards or pu­nishments—and maintain individual relation with the Infinite.

In this Universe of Supreme Love and Divine Wisdom, and therefore of Infinite Justice, it is inconceivable that one should suffer—yes, or be re­warded—for the lack of that which is beyond his comprehension. Responsi­bility must be proportioned to understanding; and while “ignorance of the law is no excuse,” the hand of the law lays heavily on the infracted in proportion to the destructive motive and the “malice aforethought” that was involved in its perpetration.

An animal is not held to the height of human responsibility, nor the mere human to the elevation of divine understanding. The hog that has the hog qualities developed to the highest degree will doubtless secure the most exalted hog-happiness. But a human, with an understanding beyond that of the hog-consciousness, may not secure the same harmony while living “like a hog.”

By parallel reasoning, one who has reached a height of spiritual realiza­tion may not, in peace and comfort, live solely on the intellectual plane, much less the purely physical. He is called to account. By whom? By himself. Al­ways and ever the variance between understanding and living is the measure of outer disease and unhappiness as well as inner discord and inharmony. And if one is the slave of himself, verily is he master in his own house!

It is this variance that measures the discords of one’s life, for each step in his higher understanding invokes an undertaking to translate this increased elevation into terms of living, and to transmute his deeper realization into thoughts that inspire and induce a character of living paralleling the greater influx of the Spirit.

Temporarily, one may escape the pains of growth by the crystallizing of his thoughts, by congealing his thought life, by refrigerating his thought activities, by isolation from thought inspiration, by closing himself, for the time being, to all progress, development, and growth. However, in an age of progress like the present one this form of hibernation is extremely difficult for more than a very limited period; and there are some who—in recognition of this difficulty and in despair of securing complete freedom from change— prefer to make a hasty exit for parts unknown.

Man is completely free within the limitations of his own world, which he fashions by his thought, and which is all that he knows of the Universe. That he is limited in his understanding of the Universe does not limit his freedom, for at no time can he be conscious of a freedom that his world does not permit him to express. One is quite as free within the comparative limits of a single room as within the more extended confines of a continent, if the room is to him all there is of the continent. No one is limited by, or feels the lack of, that which is beyond his comprehension and understanding.

Man is essentially free; he is master of himself. In the exercise of that mastery, no restraints are placed upon him except by himself. His limitations and restrictions are of his own making. While he is living in a Universe go­verned by Principle over which he has no control, he is in no way bound or limited by Principle. On the contrary, it is because of Principle that man pos­sesses complete freedom. The Infinite is utterly void of limitation, and there can be no more slavery in Infinite Principle than in being confined within the limits of the Universe. On its face such “confinement” carries complete free­dom with it.

Man is not bound or enslaved by man’s laws; our courts, prisons, hos­pitals, and reformatories all testify to man’s freedom. Doubtless human laws have varying degrees of influence on one’s choice of thought and act, but they do not take from man his absolute freedom of choice. Nor do customs, habits, traditions, or conventions. Nor do parents, husbands, wives, children, relatives, or friends. These may constitute factors that one permits to influ­ence or direct his choice, but he who determines it is the dictator, and no one and nothing else. Man has been given dominion over himself, and he may not abdicate as the ruler of himself. All else he may forgo, but not that!

Each man is a law unto himself, and he is obliged to assume responsi­bility for his own life. He cannot avoid this by any manner of transfer to another. He cannot escape responsibility by merging his life into another’s, or by taking on the responsibilities of another life. His passport through this ex­istence is not transferable; it is identified so that no substitution is possible. It is said that man’s hairs are numbered, and certainly man himself is, while man’s finger-tips but symbolize his own permanence.

Man cannot nullify his freedom. He could not bind himself unless he were free to do so. Nor could he unbind himself subsequently. He could not remain free unless his choice governed. He is enslaved only by his own thoughts and acts, the results of his own choice and pleasure. But this is free­dom rather than slavery. What other freedom is there? One must receive the effects of causes he has set in operation. That again is his freedom; otherwise he might destroy himself without even knowing that he was in danger. One is not a slave because of the hint of a better way, a warning of danger or an ad­monition. He is not obliged to take the hint, to notice the warning, or to ac­cept the admonition. He is free to ignore them all, and not infrequently does he exercise this freedom to the utmost.

Man’s dominion of the world without is measured by his conscious dominion of himself; by his realization of his essential freedom from outside interference. Man’s consciousness of freedom measures the extent to which he may exercise his spiritual powers, and the recognition of his freedom is essential to man’s higher unfoldment. The extent of this recognition is the measure of freedom that he is capable of exercising. As this recognition ap­proaches its zenith, man’s dominion over the earth will be the unquestionable demonstration that he is a law unto himself.
<br “page-break-before:auto;=”” mso-break-type:section-break”=””>THE VOICE OF AUTHORITY

Let there be many windows to your soul,
That all the glory of the universe
May beautify it. Not the narrow pane
Of one poor creed can catch the radiant rays
That shine from countless sources.
Tear away the blinds of superstition;
let the light Pour through fair windows broad as
Truth itself And high as God.

Why should the spirit peer
Through some priest-curtained orifice, and grope
Along dim corridors of doubt, when all
The splendour from unfathomed seas of space
Might bathe it with the golden waves of love?
—ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

IN the earlier stages of human development there was much less disposition than there is now toward initiative in individual thinking. There has always been a mental indolence that permitted, and preferred, the acceptance of the thoughts of others. This general disposition naturally resulted in the rise of classes of people, or profession, that assumed to have special thinking facili­ties and exceptional ability to formulate ideas into shape for ready popular consumption.

As these professions developed, it must have become apparent to them that the privilege of thinking for others gave the initiating classes power and influence that enabled them to become the masters of others to their own ad­vantage.

After this dawned upon their minds it was inevitable that their teaching or formulations of ideas should become more and more in line with their own professional interest and emolument. In this manner mankind came to adopt and to perpetuate traditional and conventional ideas, and to have their racial thoughts fashioned for them.

As man has ever been prone to worship, and for countless ages has looked to an Infinite Being as the creator of the world and dispenser of its health, wealth, and happiness, those who were regarded generally as representing God on earth naturally were looked up to as furnishing the thoughts and ideas that were of the greatest value.

After the passage of many centuries we find humanity still prone to look backward for its wisdom, each race and religion finding its inspiration in some long past age, the records of which are most uncertain, and the interpre­tations of them both numerous and conflicting.

These records have always become the property of, if they were not originated by, religious organizations. For one reason or another these have come to be accepted generally, and for ages, as having in their custody the Word of God, or a wisdom the alleged or accepted origin and source of which conferred upon it the highest authority.

It is eminently desirable that mankind should have at its ready disposi­tion the wisdom of the ages. It is not every one who is able or willing to think for himself to the best advantage, and it is indeed well that institutions have preserved for us the wisdom and traditions of past generations. The dis­advantages are that they have interpreted the records, and even altered them to suit their own special interests.

It is said that distance lends enchantment to the view. Time has the same effect. The simplest statement of 2,000 or more years ago, because of its reputed age and origin, is often looked upon with the profoundest defe­rence and most worshipful veneration; whereas, were it of contemporary ori­gin, it might be regarded as a commonplace, unworthy of serious attention.

Some nations worship their ancestors, while others worship the teach­ings of their ancestors. However, there have always been those who were not satisfied with the dictum of generally accepted authority, and here and there, at different intervals, there have appeared a few individuals who by reason of their wisdom and power have converted themselves into “ancestors” to be worshipped by succeeding generations.

The great teachers of any age have almost invariably been those who have declined to accept the authority of tradition, have broken from it, and initiated new traditions. Among these are the Saviours, the Buddhas, and the Christ’s of all the great world religions. Their dominant merit lay in their non-conformity. They were the heretics of their day, the free thinkers, the iconoclasts. They defied the traditions of the past, and repudiated the inter­pretations of tradition that had served to degrade and enslave mankind.

There would seem to be good foundation for the belief of the ages in the perennial advent on earth of a spiritual guide—an avatar, a son of God, a

Buddha, or a Christ—who should, at least attempt to sweep away the accu­mulated falsehoods of the past epoch, and to restate Truth in a form more ap­propriate to the later period. History verifies the fact of such recurrences at more or less regular intervals.

Although there is but one Truth, it has myriads of aspects and interpre­tations; and although the same few fundamentals are almost invariably pre­sented and taught by each great World Teacher, a contrasting accent is laid upon each, and their relative values are gauged and appraised differently. When any fundamental Truth has become so misinterpreted as to be produc­tive of discord, rather than harmony, it is necessary that it be newly reinter­preted, and more nearly in consonance with the eternal verities.

All of these interpretations are expressed in words or symbols, and their meaning and significance to any individual depends upon his personal rein­terpretation of them in the light of his own knowledge and understanding. A speaker may express an idea in words, but what it shall mean to the hearer is determined entirely by the latter. If one interprets it in forms or formulas that possess no vitality to him, the spirit of the words will have been lost in transmission.

To the one who thinks deeply it is apparent that there can be but one authority for him. Irrespective of what others may express or teach, it must be reinterpreted by himself, and he realizes that it is his own interpretation that constitutes his guide. It may be that the expression or teaching is so clear and definite as to require but little rearrangement or explanation within one’s own mind; or it may be that his prejudices and superstitions do not interfere great­ly with a clear understanding of the spirit of the teaching.

On the other hand, if one has accepted freely the accumulated racial traditions, conventions, and superstitions, even teachings that are of exalted purity and clarity may become obscured, sordid, or contemptible in their in­terpretation. In a muddy vessel even pure water will be fouled; and the mould into which any material is poured determined the form it shall take. It is so with the thoughts that are entertained by the minds of men; it is the within that determines the significance of that which enters from without.

The mechanical radio receiving instrument will accept only such mes­sages as correspond with the vibrations to which it is attuned. The mental ra­dio receives only such vibrations as respond to its own attunement, and it may find in the undertones or minor notes of an exalted teaching the lower vibrations that are related directly to its own lesser development. No one can give his own idea to another. He may offer it, but the one to whom it is of­fered determines what he shall receive.

While each soul has the same potential capacity for understanding and expression, some are far more completely unfolded than others; and each race or religion has accepted as its Great Teacher one whose teachings and life have been recognized as expressing to them their highest ideals. Above all else, these are looked upon as the voice of authority.

Even when admitting and accepting this to its fullest extent, still it is necessary to have reached the same level of understanding as the Great Teacher in order to comprehend him fully. No one can understand that which is beyond his mental reach, nor may one live on a level much above that comprehension. Each can see at any time only that which is permitted by his vision. One may subscribe to something he does not understand, but he can­not live it consciously.

The ultimate authority is in one’s own Soul, at its own level of human unfoldment; this being the light that is shed on his path of progress. It is in the terms of this light that he visions whatever comes to him, and, as the ra­diance intensifies, he discerns more clearly, more deeply, more inclusively. This takes place as the mind becomes increasingly illumined with the spirit.

There is no authority outside of one’s self. From without may come that which serves to awaken the recognition of the truth within, but each can real­ize it only to the degree that he contacts with the Universal Spirit. Conscious­ly or unconsciously, each is his own authority, even though he may neither desire nor acknowledge it. He cannot avoid responsibility to the Infinite by placing it in the custody of another, or by clinging to accepted traditions of Church or State. No mortal can be free until he accepts full responsibility for his own thoughts.

The present age requires that one think both clearly and freely if he is to dispel the clouds that now hover about him. It demands that inherited con­ceptions and racial beliefs be held to a strict accounting, and that whatever has been outgrown and is no longer of advantage be cast aside. The greater ideal, conception, or condition will hold aloof as long as the lesser is held as a cherished belief.

What the world needs now more than at any previous time is clear, de­finite, and unprejudiced thinking, regardless of inherited traditions, pre­judices, and superstitions. No one is great who merely reflects the popular conceptions. It is indeed seldom that a great man is popular with his contem­poraries, for he thinks not with his time, but ahead of it. He is the seer, the prophet, often the “fool” of his day. In discarding authority he becomes au­thority.

In an article in the American Magazine, entitled “The Seven Greatest Americans,” Professor James Harvey Robinson refers to this distinguishing mark of great men as follows :

“The great man is one who in some one or more respects es­capes from the commonplace. He runs great risks, because we are afraid of the exceptional. He is likely to be without honour in his own country and age, as one of the most exceptional and most mi­sunderstood of the world’s great men so bitterly reflected. To be maligned by their fellows—called ‘heretic,’ ‘atheist,’ or ‘red’— shunned, persecuted, burned, or sacrificed, has been the lot of men we now rank as supremely great.

“We seem never to learn the lesson, and are as ready to pu­nish divergence from respectable ways of thinking and doing as ev­er man has been. Dewey says that for one man that thanks God that he is not as other men there are a thousand to thank Him that they are so like their neighbors that no one will notice them. So there is every discouragement to those who find themselves forging ahead of the procession.

“Greatness, in the last analysis, is largely bravery—courage in escaping from old ideas, old standards, and respectable ways of doing things. If you do not dare to differ from your associates and teachers, you will never be great, or your life sublime.”

Unless those who are capable of thinking have the courage to think for themselves the near future is full of menace. The old order has passed away, at least in the minds of men, and the vast preponderance of desire and expec­tation is for a new order of society. The ultra-conservative or stand-pat posi­tion is a passive one, and it is about to meet tests and challenges to which it may prove unequal. It is the reasoning and seasoned thinkers of the world who must construct the bridge that will harmonize the conflicting factors that are threatening the destruction of society.

Merely to follow the old forms, the old words, the old interpretations, would be utterly futile. It will be almost useless to appeal to authority, for the present world conditions are essentially a revolt against authority. Man must seek the Kingdom of God within, and there gather that clear inspiration which will enable him to solve the intricate problems now requiring his atten­tion. In doing this, his thoughts and acts will be based upon the authority of his own Soul, and on a clearness of vision that will enable him to combine the good of the past with his new ideals and conceptions. If one would join this band of world saviors he must think for himself!
<br “page-break-before:auto;=”” mso-break-type:section-break”=””>GETTING THE MOST OUT OF LIFE

Many the creeds that wise men make,
Based on “Mustn’t” and towered with “Must”
But the wisest man is the one who will take
A simple religion of love and trust;
For love and trust will carry men through,
Whatever the Fates or the Furies do.
The longer I live, and the more I see
Of the struggle of souls toward the heights above,
The stronger the truth comes home to me
That the Universe rests on the shoulders of love;
A love so limitless, deep, and broad,
That men have renamed it and called it—God.
—ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

HOW is one to get the most out of life? That is what each one is asking, and at the same time seeking to answer to the best of his ability. The means that will best produce this result are regarded as being the most prac­tical. One relates cause and effect, and assumes constructive successes to be the results of good and sufficient causes of like character. Any invisible cause which accomplishes its expected purpose in the visible is considered to be practical.

It is true that theory must precede method, and thought be prior to ac­tion; but it is not every theory that will work out in practice, nor every thought that will induce the expected result. The theory must be put to work through use before it can be accepted as practical. It would be folly complete­ly to cast aside theories, ideas, and speculations, these being the approaches to higher truths, but it were well to test them through use before accepting them finally as truly representative of what they claim to be.

Practical ideals are those which produce the exterior conditions that they represent interiorly. It is practical use alone that converts an ideal into a fact and a theory into a demonstration. The theory may be old or new, tried or untried, but it becomes practical only when use justifies its pretensions. For ideals to be of acknowledged value in this busy world they must be proven to be workable, and the conversion of theories into facts is at the very heart of all progress.

It would be a great mistake to assume a particular ideal to be impractic­al because it had not already been worked out successfully in practice. There are ideals that have been heralded throughout the ages, and continuously re­jected as impractical, which are today being accepted as practical by hard­headed business men. An ideal remains impractical until it is discovered how to use it rightly, or until one’s understanding of it enables him to make right use of it. In fact, the practicality of an ideal depends, not upon itself, but upon its user.

One of the ideals that has been most sparingly accepted in the past is known as the Golden Rule. It does not speak well for the general intelligence of the race that it should have continually rejected the very fundamental of justice, wisdom, and love. In its essence, the truth of the Golden Rule should be evident to every rational mind. It is no more than a special setting of the fundamental principle of action and reaction, from the operation of which there is no possible escape. As this basic truth is essentially beneficent in its operation, so likewise is the Golden Rule. The reason it has not found univer­sal acceptance is simply because personal selfishness and egotism have blinded man to even the simplest truths.

That honesty is the best policy, that it were well to do unto others that which one would have others do unto him, likewise to love one’s neighbor as one’s self, each and all are injunctions to comply with the fundamental prin­ciple of action and reaction. Not only this, but any falling away from these conceptions is a departure from principle, and the occasion for discord, in­harmony, and disease. As long as the truth remains impractical, it is false­hood alone that will be looked upon as practical; and the reactions of false­hood are found in the individual and social conditions in which humanity is now immersed.

In a discussion of the practicality of ideals it might be well to consider what it is that we are to make practical. What are ideals, and how may they be worked? And wherein do they differ from ideas?

An idea is a mental conception originating in a consideration of the ma­terial or physical world. It may be so related either directly or indirectly, but it originates in one’s understanding of the outer world, and it is essentially in­tellectual.

An ideal is the essential truth of an idea; it is the spiritual kernel of the intellectual nut. It is the inner life of which the idea is an outer expression, as the idea is the mental essence of that which is material or physical. As one ascends the thought-mountain of life, his ideals expand with his mental hori­zon, and he realizes more and more fully the essential truth of his mental conception of materiality.

The conversion of an ideal from theory into demonstration requires not only a mental interpretation, but also that this be given a physical form. One must express it, or press it out, into a form that is evident to the senses. For example, the ideal of the Golden Rule is converted to practicality when its in­terpretation is put to use, and thereby shown to be more advantageous than the contrary conception. Unless it confers a greater benefit than that which it supplants it will be regarded as impractical.

The Golden Rule involves the recognition that, as one must reap as he sows, it were well to sow in such manner that he shall reap to his best advan­tage. It embodies the realization that as reaction is always equal to action, one should so direct his action that the inevitable reaction shall be of an agreeable character. It reflects the absolute justice of the Universal, that metes love for love, hate for hate, harmony for harmony, and discord for discord.

Is it not folly to imagine that one may avoid or evade the fundamental principle of the Universe, of the Infinite, of God? Is it not gross ignorance to assume that destructive thought will react constructively? On the other hand, is it not wisdom to think and act in harmony with the unbreakable principle that guides and directs the wondrous activities of all existence?

The Universe is governed by one principle, which obtains on each and every plane, without exception or exemption. The same principle operates on both the spiritual, mental, and physical planes of life. The human formulation of the laws that are said to govern matter are but exemplifications of the one principle that controls not only the physical, but the mental and spiritual also. The law of action and reaction operates mentally as well as physically; in fact, its physical manifestation is merely the outer and material showing of the inner and mental fact. The physical is the form in which thought is ren­dered susceptible to sensuous recognition.

One cannot violate a law physically without at the same time doing so mentally, and vice versa. One may separate the mental and physical in thought, but not in fact. While one may violate a law, which is man’s formu­lation of principle, he cannot violate or break principle. In his folly he may break himself against its adamantine walls, but that principle is inviolate is man’s safeguard against certain disaster. His freedom is dependent upon the absolute precision of principle, and his health and happiness are consequent upon his harmony with it.

In order that one may live an ideal that has theretofore been regarded by him as but a theory it is essential that he have an understanding of the truth that it serves to clothe; otherwise it is most likely that he will be unable to meet the challenge that it will provoke from old habits of a contrary cha­racter.

It would be easy to accept a new idea and live it but for habits that strive to maintain their ancient hold. It is easy to take on a new idea, but dif­ficult to retain it against the counter-attractions of habits that have long been accorded dominion. These are old friends, stand-bys, and it is easier far to let them direct than it is to initiate new conceptions and lay down new thought- tracks.

It is so much easier to let life live us, to permit our yesterdays to control our today’s and fashion our tomorrows, than it is to drop the dead yesterdays and start anew today, freed from the incubus of traditional and conventional thoughts in which we have been accustomed to place our confidence.

Ideals remain impractical simply because of the effort required to think new thoughts, and especially to resist the pleadings of the old ones. A prima­ry ideal that the race has accepted for ages past tends to inhibit conscious thought that is at variance with subconscious habits. This ideal glorifies in­action, portraying Heaven as the acme of happiness, and also as a place where there is no work, no effort, no exertion, no thought.

All ideals may be made practical. All truth may be practised to advan­tage. But the higher the truth, the more wisdom is required to express it in a manner appropriate to average human activities. Truth is perfect, and hu­manity is imperfect—in its understanding, its mentality, and its physical forms. The higher the truth the more difficult is it to convince the intellect that it is the truth, much less to bring about its acceptance as a working basis foreveryday activities.

Of itself an ideal may be but a glorious dream, for it requires the dy­namic power of a spiritual realization to give it beauty of form. The value of the great hundred-foot lens in our largest telescope lies, not in itself, but in the mind that interprets its images. The beauty of an emotion is created in the manner of its expression.

One of the difficulties about initiating new lines of thought lies in the fact that any particular line that one indulges in seems to justify itself, leading to the erroneous conclusion that it is unique in this respect, and that a con­trary conception would not be justified. Every belief justifies itself. If one is suspicious he will find good grounds for suspicion, and when he intensifies this attitude to the saturation point of insanity still will he be justified!

One who is suspicious attracts to himself those who justify suspicion, and repels those whose integrity impel them to seek an atmosphere of trust and confidence. The suspicious man cannot hold to him one who is above suspicion. And, as only the wise will learn other than through pain and long suffering, one who believes in suspicion must poison himself with the virus of suspicion, until his folly is borne in upon him as physically as well as men­tally.

If one’s ideal is personal selfishness, he will find full justification in the inevitable reaction of environment. His thought atmosphere will attract to him, and attract him to, his thought correspondences, He will find himself in the clashing of personal selfishness, and he may even die convinced that his course was the only one warranted by conditions and circumstances.

The fact is that, in his materialistic basis of thought and his dualistic conception of life, man has come to regard as practical only those lesser ideals that originate in negative and destructive sources. He has idealized er­ror, not truth. Without realizing it, he has idealized discord, inharmony. dis­ease and death!

This era seems to be one wherein man is destined to be reawakened from his nightmare falsehoods of inherent separation, opposition, contest, and antagonism. The time seems to have come for the overthrow of his false gods of selfishness and greed and the beginning of an age of reason, when man’s ideals shall be based on the realization of positive and constructive planes of truth.

Those who have taken unity and oneness as their fundamental concep­tion of life are already putting into practice ideals that have heretofore re­posed in the realm of theory and speculation. To its great astonishment, the world is discovering that truth, honesty, integrity—yes, love itself—is really practical in business! How long—oh, how long—will it be before man re­cognizes generally that this, and this alone, is really practical?

LOOK WITHIN!

Truth is within ourselves; it takes no rise
From outward things, whate’er you may believe.
There is an inmost centre in us all,
Where Truth abides in fullness:
. . . and to know

Rather consists in opening out a way
Whence the imprisoned splendour may escape,
Than in effecting entry for a light
Supposed to be without.
—ROBERT BROWNING.

THIS is indeed a strange world, or else we humans are constituted strange­ly. It is generally accepted that the greatest truths are revealed in seeming inconsistencies, or paradoxes. Apparently our so-called physical senses look on a world of forms outside of ourselves. Certainly the forms are not inside of us; but do our eyes see pictures that are outside or inside? Do our eyes see at all?

Does a telescope or microscope or an eye-glass see anything? Do they not merely aid our vision? Does the eye really see anything? Is it not, in this respect, similar to a telescope, a microscope, or an eye-glass—merely an aid to vision? Is it not that which looks through the eye which discerns and has sight? And what is seen by it? Does it not discern the image that is imprinted on its mental looking-glass, rather than the form that is imaged?

There is an outside world, of course. But one sees it only indirectly. Mental images are impressed through the avenue or agency of the eyes, and it is these images that are visioned. The images would not be there were there no outside world, so that the world of form cannot well be dispensed with; but if it is not the eye that sees, but the vision is possessed by that which looks upon one’s mental mirror, it must be of the utmost importance that one’s mental mirror be clear, unblemished, and undefiled.

Human beings are so similarly constituted that, generally speaking, the vision of the outer world is the same to each; or, if not the same, at least suf­ficiently so to enable them to understand each other. But for this fact there would be no generally accepted laws or facts of physical science. Never­theless, the vision of each is individual, and different from that of all others.

Nature provides an infinite variety of everything. Each leaf is different from every other one, even of similar design. Each experience is unique. There are no exact duplications or repetitions. “History repeats itself” in a general way only. Everything is governed by cycles or laws of periodicity, but everything changes from one period to another. The earth revolves conti­nuously, but never again will it occupy the space that accommodates it today.

That one visions indirectly rather than directly is a fact of supreme in­terest. If this be true of sight, it must have similar application to one’s hear­ing, tasting, smelling, and touching. If one’s perception of the outside world is obtained from his consideration of mental images, it can readily be unders­tood how one person is able to see the outer world differently from another.

The image that will appear on the mental mirror of each person will de­pend upon the condition of the mirror—the degree of its sensitiveness, the texture of the mentality, or the unfoldment of the spiritual understanding. As each of these is individual and unique, it is evident that no two persons sense the outer world in precisely the same way. Not infrequently the difference is an extreme one.

In looking without one is really looking within; and what one will vi­sion outside of himself is dependent upon how he has prepared the inner self. If one’s mental mirror is blurred or blemished, his vision of the outer world will take on these characteristics. If one’s mental mirror be disturbed by fear or hate, his images of the outer world will seem antagonistic or conflicting. If one’s mental mirror be placid or serene, in loving or peaceful quiet, the outer world will have a calming or soothing appearance.

Looking within, what does one find there? What is the character of one’s prevailing thoughts? Are they constructive or destructive, optimistic or pessimistic? Are they loving or hateful, peaceful or antagonistic? Are they hopeful or despondent, full of faith or of doubt? Whatever they are, they af­fect the mirror, and to that extent determine the image of the outer world upon which one’s vision will be centered.

Would one change the outer world, in so far as he is concerned? Would one gaze upon a world of form different from the one that now engages his attention? Would one change the world he lives in—his world—from the un­pleasant, uninviting, or uninteresting appearance in which it discloses itself to him? Would one see a world quite different from the one he apparently inha­bits?

There is nothing the matter with the world in itself. There are no inhe­rent discords or inharmonies. Discords are but harmonies not understood. The trouble is entirely in one’s misinterpretation. The discords are within. The harmonizer is within also. After the change has been made within the without will change in appearance. There may be no outward change, for none is ne­cessary. One’s mental mirror has acquired a different receptivity. Its surface vibrations have changed in their attractions. Its radio activity has acquired an affinity for different rates of vibration.

The problem is to change rightly one’s mental vibrations, to alter their affinities, to elevate their attractions, or to attune to higher harmonies the ra­dio activity of one’s mental mirror. The instrument whereby this is effected is one’s thought. The origins, operations, activities, and results of thought are governed by universal and immutable laws; and the sciences covering this branch of knowledge are known as Applied Psychology and Practical Meta­physics. When one comprehends the universal scope of these sciences he can readily understand the intense interest with which they are now regarded.

I am important to the perfect plan, And I assist the Purpose.
As the sun Completes the projects by the Cause begun,
So God’s intentions are worked out by man.
We are the means to some majestic end,
Through us must come the universal good.
In us the forces of the Maker blend,
On us depends the larger brotherhood.
—ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

THERE is a Kingdom of Light which man is ever seeking. While he is conscious of darkness, intuitively he feels that there must be a realm where darkness does not exist. He flees from the darkness and he pursues the light. The light is ahead of him and the darkness behind; and the light attracts him with its warmth while the darkness repels him with its chill.

As one ascends a mountain he reaches a finer atmosphere and senses a clearer light, and as one’s mind develops his thought-atmosphere becomes finer and a clearer vision opens before him. One’s body is lightened and re­fined as his thoughts ascend in quality, and one’s thoughts rise in purity and ideality as he reaches the grander heights of spiritual unfoldment.

Man is on his journey from the outer realm of Unconscious Light to the inner kingdom of Conscious Light. The entrance to the latter is through a la­byrinth, the keys of which are physical health, mental harmony, and spiritual realization. In each of the courts of the labyrinth there are many points of vantage, where one may obtain a clear view of the road over which he has passed; and the knowledge so obtained relieves him from the necessity of again traversing it, and enables him to avoid the obstacles and obstructions that had hindered his progress.

Everything that man can do consciously has already been done for him unconsciously. The light of the Infinite Intelligence radiates always in one’s direction, but it does not force itself upon his attention. Its entire absorption is in Being. The Infinite Intelligence offers itself; but it is at one’s option to ac­cept or reject, and therein lies the privilege and duty of existence. One is able increasingly to accept its offers only as he grows physically, develops men­tally, and unfolds spiritually, these being the steps whereby the truths of Be­ing of which he has been unconscious are converted into facts of conscious existence.

Being is ever perfect, but existence is always imperfect; and one’s faul­ty understanding and guidance results in an inharmonious relation between the finite and the Infinite. The inflow of the Infinite Energy is restricted by the shape and capacity of the conduit through which it flows, and it must take the form and dimensions of the receptacle that it occupies. It is only to the degree that there is unobstructed entrance and free exit that existence mani­fests the perfection of Being.

Each appropriates from the Infinite through his intellectual recognition and spiritual realization. He has been provided with the means whereby to reach conviction on each of these planes, and he controls for use only that which he knows he possesses. On the intellectual plane, physical holding is the evidence of possession; on the spiritual plane it is an interior realization of the oneness with the Infinite which suffices to place at one’s disposition the resources of that realm. But one must know; and knowing precludes doubt, uncertainty, and fear.

The road to the Kingdom of Conscious Light lies along the avenues of recognition and realization. One must recognize that the mental controls the physical, and that the spiritual dominates the mental. Without this under­standing he will be unable to place the appropriate emphasis on the various aspects of life, or relate them rightly. One must comprehend that the life that is expressing through his mentality and manifesting through his physical form is the One Life; and that continually it will function more perfectly as he directs the activities of his life in accord with its inherent harmonies, and without the introduction of the inharmonies of false beliefs.

The purpose of existence seems to be that each and every aspect of life shall attain to its fullest realization of the Light that is inherent in the Univer­sal Life itself. This is acquired through gradual mental development and its corresponding physical growth, each higher form of life assuming the texture and refinement enabling it consciously to express more nearly the Perfection that is of its very essence.

If each and every aspect of the Infinite had always possessed the con­sciousness that inheres in the Infinite as an entity, manifestly there would have been no reason or necessity for individual existence. But to this end it was evidently essential that the consciousness should develop through expe­rience with matter, that appearance should appeal to the senses, and that the mind should traverse its maze of delusions and illusions. As this seems to have been the method ordained, apparently there was no other way whereby the individual should gradually acquire that realization which the Universal always possessed.

It was this process that was symbolized by the mythical expulsion from heaven—the projection of aspects of the Light into utter darkness, that they might find for themselves consciously that which theretofore had been pro­vided for them unconsciously. It meant that thereafter the individual was to live by “the sweat of his brow,” that it must seek in order to find, ask in order to receive, and knock that things might be opened to it. The Infinite provided the opportunity of individual existence, but made it incumbent upon the indi­vidual to use his own faculties in order to find the Light. That the search might not end too soon, the Light was hidden deep within, where one would least expect to find it.

In its physical aspect, individual life could at first recognize only the merest circumference of existence. It had to commence with the most ob­vious, and it was obliged to develop its thinking capacity and to grow the fa­culties that could make use of thought as an instrument. This process has proved to be a tedious one, and long-drawn-out—so much so that after sons of time consumed in it, humanity in general still looks upon the circumfe­rence as being the centre, the temporary as the permanent, and the actual as the real.

Spirit is essentially fluidic, imponderable, and etheric; but in its con­densed form as matter Spirit becomes inert, inflexible, and crystallized. It may no longer be recognized as Spirit, any more than ice can be discerned as steam. In essence it is unchanged, but in appearance it is altered completely. Form may be thought of as paralysed Spirit, as spiritual vibrations that are so reduced in activity as to come within the range of human vision and mental recognition. These slower vibrations are not only capable of being inspired by the faster ones, but that they should be so acted upon is an essential requi­site of their very existence.

It is in this manner that the Kingdom of Conscious Light is entered. The journey of the Spirit into matter in the lowering of its vibrations is for temporary purposes only. The duration of the journey may be indefinite, but necessarily is of limited duration. Having reached the lowest rung of the lad­der of Spirit, there is nothing else for it to do but to ascend. There is no direc­tion for it to take other than to retrace its steps. The very nature of Spirit compels it to again take up that which previously it had relinquished.

Spirit lost nothing in resolving itself into form which would permit of its being used as an instrument by its finer qualities and more rapid intensi­ties. The lesser vibrations were merely unconscious of that of which the Uni­versal Spirit as such was ever and always supremely conscious. It was a wondrous conception, worthy of Infinite Intelligence; and its divine origin is a sure guarantee of its successful fulfillment. There can be no doubt that man may be inspired by the Spirit, and realize his oneness with it so fully as to en­sure his admission to the Kingdom of Conscious Light.

There is but one instrumentality whereby this may be accomplished. The Universal Spirit may not co-operate directly with its paralysed aspects, for this would at once remove paralysis and obliterate form. No more could the sun environ and contact the earth without raising it to the vibrations of the sun itself and destroying it as a habitation for man. No more could steam per­vade ice without dissolving it. It was essential that there should be some me­diator, interpreter, modifier, or translator of vibratory intensities; so that Spi­rit in form might become receptive to ethereal Spirit without dissolution of form.

This office was given to the mind, which uses thought as its agent. The mind opens inwardly to the realm of invisible Spirit and outwardly to that of visible form, and that which it receives from Spirit it translates into such quality of vibrations as the form is capable of receiving without injury to it­self. As the physical aspect is purified and refined it is capable of assimilating the higher vibrations, to which it becomes receptive as the thought directing it is elevated and exalted.

These are the processes whereby unconscious realization is converted into consciousness. These are the methods whereby intellectual conviction is translated into spiritual realization. These are the means whereby one devel­ops mentally and unfolds spiritually. These are the instruments that have been divinely contrived to facilitate and secure entrance to the Kingdom of Con­scious Light. These are the agencies whereby the Soul of man becomes con­scious of its eternal oneness with the Universal Spirit.

THE MAN BEHIND THE MASK

We gaze upon a mask.
Behind the screen Lies the reality in the unseen.
We view this inner life made manifest,
As in the world objective ‘tis expressed
In terms of matter—phrased in time and space ;
We see it veiled, but never face to face.
Our inmost selves are seldom realized,
They are subconscious and unrecognized,
Except in those rare moments when we press
Up spirit heights, whose visions limitless
Are gleams of Universal Consciousness.
—JAMES A. EDGERTON.

WHAT is usually designated a man is a mask, behind which the Univer­sal Life masquerades in one of its myriad forms. Chameleon-like at any one time this mask may present a different appearance to each of many observers. At one moment it may suggest a tragedy, and at the next a come­dy, either by reason of a change in itself or in the observer.

The Universal Life is ever seeking expression through form, and the appearance of the mask conforms to the mentality that serves as the bridge between the spiritual and its physical counterpart. It is the mentality that pro­vides the cast in which every feature is outlined, and one’s mask takes on the general aspect of his fundamental thoughts.

As each mask makes its entrance into the drama of human activities, it finds itself surrounded on every side by other masks. From start to finish of existence it is engaged in penetrating the masks of others, seeking to interp­ret, explain, and uncover disguises. This is a dominating feature of the game of life, and in the infinitude of variation one’s interest need never flag.

No one mask is exactly like any other; and in its constant change of ap­pearance each mask serves effectually to prevent its possessor from being understood or interpreted rightly by the uninitiated. Looking upon the mask as the Reality, the multitude are readily deluded by the masks that surround them. Often one is as easily deceived by his own mask as by that of another.

Since masks delude and appearances deceive, there is a premium on wisdom, clear vision, or right interpretation. That which is but of little value is recognized easily. That which everyone understands is of the very slightest value. As value increases, recognition becomes less easy, and the masks more misleading. That which is most precious is guarded from recognition with the greatest of care; and many are the snares, misdirection’s, false clues, mislead­ing, and distractions to dissuade one from penetrating the mask, or tempt him to abandon his search for the hidden treasure.

Through countless ages Universal Life has sought to unfold into the in­dividualized realization of itself through form; mind is the agency it has em­ployed for this purpose.

One of the functions of mind is to distribute the Universal Life in terms that physical form is capable of receiving and retaining. Mind is the modera­tor and transmute that accommodates spiritual energy to the limitations of physical form: it is the necessary bridge to connect the worlds of spirit and form.

In the unduplicated aggregates of individual experiences, each human life presents an intricate geometrical design, every line and curve of which is delineated somewhere in the structure of the mask. Each mask has been in the process of fashioning for sons of time; and, while the patterns are infinite in variety, they are governed by invariable and immutable principle.

The principal thought-ingredients that have contributed to the delinea­tion of the human masks of today are those of habit, custom, tradition, con­vention, and superstition; these forming combinations of such intricacy and variety as to account readily for all possible contrasts of personality.

Thought seeks to embody itself in form; first in the body of the thinker, and then in his environment. Thought attracts to itself the material necessary for its embodiment, and then fashions it in its own image and likeness—in its interpretation, in visibility of that which previously was invisible. It may fa­shion its interpretations after some visible form, or from the seeming void it may conjure up some new combination of primary factors. Inevitably thought takes on form, if only within the physical confines of the thinker. It fashions the mask that conceals the man; it builds the home in which he lives.

The home that each one fashions for himself is a mask to others be­cause the latter also wear masks, and interpret those that surround them in the image and likeness of their own. Their vision is masked exactly as are their features and forms. Are their features masked in selfishness, greed, or cruelty, then their vision is directed along these channels of interpretation. To them other masks seem similarly distorted, for they bring to the surface of others the similitude of their own thoughts. Similarly, if their features are masked in altruism, generosity, or kindness.

A mirror reflects a true picture to the degree that its surface is clear, smooth, and unsullied, as it has behind it that which quickens its receptivity, as it is open, straightforward, and on the level. If it is curved, concavely or convexly, or crooked, or if its surface is distorted, or spotted, or marred in any way, the picture it reflects takes on the imperfections of the mirror. That which is pictured may be perfect in appearance, but the mirror reports it in its own language and interpretation.

The mask is Man’s mirror. On a wave-tossed Soul the reflected pictures are blurred and indistinct. With emotions violent and uncontrolled, enthu­siasm is misdirected, and energy lashes itself into a wild frenzy. With thought contradictory and chaotic, actions become inconsistent and erratic. Unless spiritually controlled, mind and body run amuck, and the mask pictures life as crippled and distorted.

The Soul seeks freedom of expression in form. The Soul uses the mind as its invisible medium, and the mind makes the body its visible counterpart. The Soul unfolds through the mind as the latter becomes receptive through its greater development, and the mind develops with the body’s growth in re­finement of texture. Each acts and reacts upon the others, and the Soul finds increasing freedom as the mind becomes receptive to it, and as it in turn finds freer circulation through its physical body. A mask serves to reveal to the de­gree that the Soul has found freedom, and it conceals to the extent that its Soul still remains enslaved.

The Soul that is free, though seemingly enmeshed, sees through or be­hind the masks of others; and freed Souls recognize each other despite the masks that effectually hide them from others. The freed Soul differentiates between masks and realities, and it looks beneath the surface-waves of the ocean of life to the calm depths below. The freed Soul may tear off the fetters that bind another, put aside the veil that obscures the other’s vision, and ena­ble the other’s mind and body to bear the effulgence of the Soul that is await­ing its deliverance to freedom.

The Soul becomes free as it realizes or makes real the Truth in thought and act. It shines ever more effulgent through mind and body as its ideals be­come more grand and lofty, as its ideas are made more clear and definite, and as its acts are as clear and definite as its thoughts, and grand and lofty as its ideals. As gradually it realizes in feeling, becomes conscious in thought, and acts physically in accord with the fundamental truth of identity with its Source, the mists of doubt clear away, the clouds of fear dissolve, the mias­mas of selfishness fade away, and the sunshine of clear vision penetrates the masks of error that seem to environ others.

In its identity with Universal Spirit, the Soul is all-inclusive; and its es­cape from or through the bondage of mind and body is facilitated by the ac­ceptance of that which previously it had rejected or not included. As Soul ex­pands in realization through its mind becoming more receptive to spiritual ideals, and as mind expands in consciousness through its body accepting higher mental guidance, it includes more and more, and becomes increasingly universal. Through the realization of inclusion and identity comes love, sym­pathy, understanding, and spiritual vision.

One of the great lessons of life is the necessity of including at some time that which one now rejects. The Soul will not accept exclusion as a fi­nality, and that which is forbidden to it becomes a magnet of irresistible at­traction. The Soul must know all, and it can know only through identity or in­clusion. One attracts only that which belongs to him and comes for purposes of inclusion and identity. It comes as the result of one’s contact with the Prin­ciple of Attraction, which cannot but function with infallible accuracy.

“The Man Behind the Mask” is the Soul, identified with its Source, in­dividualized Spirit, in the image and likeness of the Infinite; but lacking that individual realization and consciousness of itself that may accompany only the possession of mind and body. The Man behind the mask is drawn inevita­bly to incarnate in form until mind and body shine as effulgent as Soul itself. Then, its purpose having been fulfilled, the mask dissolves.

The mask is the screen behind and within which the Soul houses itself for the purpose of protection and the concealment of vulnerable points of at­tack. The Man is never what the mask seems to be, or what it assumes to be, nor even what it thinks it is, although “what it thinks, it is.”

It is quite true that “things are seldom what they seem.” One preaches to others in order to convince himself. He professes a virtue to cover a vice. He parades his strength in one direction to cover his weakness in another. He accuses another to divert suspicion from himself. The short of stature stretches himself tall, and the tall bows himself short. The man of courage as­sumes meekness, and the coward bullies. The wise avows ignorance, and the ignorant assumes wisdom. As the mask is an artificial make-up, fashioned largely to deceive and delude for protective purposes, it has ceased to know itself for what it really is.

Modern life has added greatly to the intricacy of human masks. Until recently physiognomy, phrenology, palmistry, astrology, and kindred arts, sufficed to afford a peep behind the masks. These agencies have become quite inadequate to cope with present-day conditions, and we now have a new Science of Mind, as formulated in psychology and psycho-analysis, to teach us to read masks and unravel the mysteries of conscious and unconscious mask-building.

Without the mask Man would be invisible; but without the Man there could be no mask. The Man creates his mask, wears it, changes it, and finally discards it. But the Man never changes. The mask is the clothing, the home, the residence of the Man, which he is forever patching and altering to suit his changing fancy. It may seem that the Man is changing, but it is only his cov­ering that is being fashioned differently to meet his changing thought- seasons.

As Man is a deathless Soul, identified with Universal Spirit, one can do little or nothing for Man himself. But the mask is Man’s creation, and, being impermanent, ever-changing, illusive, and delusive, it is that which requires his never-ceasing attention. It is as the mask is guided by strong and con­trolled emotions, and by clear and definite thought, that the Soul qualities are realized, and Man enters on the enjoyment of self-revelation.

The profoundest study for man is Man, and his deepest satisfaction is to watch his own self-revelation; after seeing himself as a worm or caterpillar, crawling on the earth, to witness his gradual metamorphosis into a butterfly or Spiritual Being, with gorgeous habiliments, disclosing from beneath his disguise the indisputable proofs of his divine origin. This is the Man behind the mask, a Being of infinite glory, but environed by forests of ignorance that obscure his vision, by rivers of doubt that benumb his faculties, and by clouds of fear that stifle his energies. Ignorance, doubt, and fear were the principal factors that served to fashion his mask, but these are merely the primitive as­pects of wisdom, faith, and courage.

As the texture of the mask clarifies and refines, gradually it loses its grossness of materiality, assumes the delicacy and constituency of thought, and is finally dissolved and dissipated in the sunshine of spiritual understand­ing. Then the mask fades away, and there is disclosed in his true colors of spiritual glory the Being that previously had been The Man Behind The Mask!

<br “page-break-before:auto;=”” mso-break-type:section-break”=””>THE CALL OF THE SOUL

But you must act.
And therein lies the way
Of freedom from the Furies.
You must burn The substance of your being.
If you stay The impetus of life, you will not learn
The simples of salvation. If you scoff,
You will perceive. You cannot love the staff
You have not scorned. You cannot weigh the act
You have not lived, the fear you did not prove.
Your soul was made to focus’ and extract
Through action every hatred, every love.
Pour out yourself if you would know release
From what the Furies do to wreck your peace.
—EDGAR LEE MASTERS.

LIFE is to be lived; and to be lived life must act. To act, life must press it­self through its mental and physical instruments; life must be expressed.

There is an inner urge that will not be denied. The Soul of man— individualized God—is ever seeking its Source, the Universal Spirit. It is reaching out for cosmic consciousness. It is expanding toward its own com­pleteness. The dewdrop is absorbing into itself the ocean of life!

The Soul of man resents every suggestion of limitation, exclusion, or rejection. It must know all, and nothing less will satisfy it. This is its insistent demand. For a while this demand may be ignored, thwarted, denied, and si­lenced, but in its eternal persistence the Soul never forgets. At some time or another its demand will receive full satisfaction.

The Soul is aware of its absolute freedom, and it will never cease to in­sist that its mentality shall reach a complete consciousness of this reality. This is the evident purpose of manifested life, and both physical sensation and spiritual realization are in a conspiracy to accomplish this result.

Health, harmony, and happiness are attendant upon free expression of the Spirit, the realization of power, the fact of self-determination and domi­nion. Freedom and consciousness of power go hand in hand; so do slavery and the sense of weakness. Existence, or the expression of life in form, evi­dences the divine purpose that eventually each and every aspect of the Uni­versal shall attain to consciousness of the Universal in its completeness. To do this it is evidently necessary that its mentality be gradually attuned to the higher harmonies of the Universal.

Nothing may be expressed that has not previously been impressed. Nothing can come out that has not already been put in. Involution always pre­cedes evolution, and evolutionary life did not commence until after involu­tion had been completed. The Universe involved all of itself into each and every atom of itself, leaving it to the evolutionary elements of time and space to evolve them into complete fulfillment of its purpose.

Upon life’s most primary form was conferred the most limited poten­tiality of universal expression. With increased complexity of form came a proportionately greater possibility of expression. With the advent of the hu­man form came a potentiality that seems to admit of almost infinite expan­sion. The human instruments of mind and body apparently permit of unli­mited realization of the Universal.

The body requires experience, the intellect knowledge, the emotions feeling, and the mind understanding, that they may mentally express and physically manifest more and more of the complete freedom which is of the essence of the Universal.

What is the means of growth of the primary forms of life? What enables them to become more complex? Getting in touch with more and more of that which is outside of their own forms: by experience. Why does the in­tellect develop with the complexity of the physical form? Because of its in­crease of knowledge through thinking on its widened scope of experiences. Why does the Soul unfold more and more in the mind of man? Because of its deeper understanding of the meaning and significance of Life, through the wisdom distilled from its knowledge.

The Soul, operating through its mind and body, must go out on the plane of manifestation and there find more of the Universal. To the degree that this is really absorbed or appropriated is it recognized by the Universal, the God Within; until life in form becomes cognizant of Life itself, the indi­vidual realizes the Universal, and man becomes divine. At present man’s mental consciousness of freedom is only partial, and to the extent that it is lacking in completeness has he the sense of limitation and slavery, with their attendant discords, inharmonies, and lack of ease.

The savage or wild man is the most healthy, and has the minimum of disease; and he is least conscious of restraint or bondage. Disease increases with the extension of the sense of restriction, and as the most highly civilized man of the present day is also the most constrained by convention, limited by tradition, and bound by precedent, it is not surprising that he is most lacking in ease. The natural life is the life of freedom, while the artificial life is one of slavery. Wild animals are healthy; tamed animals are diseased; man is an an­imal!

The Soul is seeking freedom and self-determination, but its thought binds and enslaves it at every turn in its holding to conceptions that have been handed down through the ages. As one divests himself of these enslav­ing conceptions, and reaches a fuller consciousness of freedom, more health is expressed; and with full realization of freedom, and therefore of power, complete health would be attained. It is for this purpose that humanity now seeks to free itself from the chains with which it has long since bound itself.

When one pursues an occupation in which he is interested he possesses a sense of freedom and power and has health. The great tragedy of humanity is that few people find congenial employment; and their sense of limitation and restriction manifests itself in bodily disease and social disorder.

The great social problem of the day is to bring about the consciousness of freedom to the mass of humanity through affording it physical activities that carry with them the sense of freedom and power.

To the extent that expression is life, repression is death. By use life gains in power, which is destroyed either by misuse or disuse. Use accom­panies the sense of power and freedom, misuse that of weakness, and disuse that of slavery. Misuse and disuse are the results of the acceptance of either compulsory limitation from without (through law, custom, or habit) or by vo­luntary restraint from within (by reason of tradition, convention, or precedent); and both are prolific causes of disease.

Mankind is still dominated by primary conceptions that date from ages long past. Its religious injunctions, its repressive statute laws, its teachings, and its general beliefs, are expressed almost entirely in negations. The human race is still basing its conceptions of life on what it should not do, with prac­tically no knowledge of what is best for it to do. Its vision is continually turned toward the darkness of negations, so that it can see but dimly the great light of affirmative truth.

That which man thinks and feels and desires to express, but which he represses because of prohibition from without or inhibition from within, reg­isters itself upon his physical from in terms of discord and inharmony corres­ponding with his consciousness of limitation or slavery. This is a fact that the science of psycho-analysis reveals to an astonishing degree. When the sense of limitation is removed the inharmony disappears.

A negative command has no vitality. No one may live negatively; no one can accomplish anything by not doing something else. A negative com­mand expresses but comparatively little wisdom, and anyone can advise what not to do. No responsibility attends on such a command. “Do nothing” is an easy counsel to give, and its capacity of guidance is of a very limited charac­ter. Life compels activity and expression, and if man is not guided affirma­tively he will learn only through a degree of unpleasant experience that would otherwise be quite unnecessary.

In the journey that Life makes clothed in the forms of existence it is es­sential that it include all that it contacts. Life itself is inclusive, and it de­mands for its mentality completeness of understanding and realization. As it must have this eventually, whatever it rejects on one step of its climb must thereafter be accepted at that or some higher elevation. That which has been excluded may perhaps be transformed in its physical aspect before it is finally included; but the mentality must include the wisdom that is of its essence, and, therefore, in some form must contact that from which this wisdom may be extracted.

No one has graduated from an experience until he has extracted from it the wisdom that is of its essence. No one has extracted that wisdom fully who still feels any bitterness concerning it. No relationship has terminated entirely until the sense of harmony covers its exit. One’s environment will not expand farther while he is still unequal to its present area. It is as one includes what he has previously excluded that he overcomes his existing sense of limitation, and expands farther toward the Universal.

When one realizes the power of his own thought he is obliged to con­cede power to racial thought or to the habitual thought of others. Anyone who presumes to think differently from the general average of the community not only meets with adverse invisible influence, but also with many visible ex­pressions of disapproval. It is of the nature of racial thought to bring every­thing to its own level; and individual thought has this weight to carry in as­cending to the higher realms.

The world thought now concedes to some considerable degree that mental or spiritual healing is a fact, with the result that the use of thought for therapeutic purposes meets with only partial resistance from that source. This leaves the individual thought largely unimpaired by the general thought cur­rent of the race. But fewer people accept the fact that poverty is a disease, and therefore there is greater general resistance to this truth than to the use of thought force for therapeutic purposes. As the use of individual thought for this purpose meets with greater general resistance, it is therefore less effec­tive.

Old age is a settled conviction with the race, and it very grudgingly ac­cepts any thought that this may be overcome. The belief that it may be alle­viated is coming somewhat into vogue, and it is gradually dawning upon the human mind that faces with wrinkled lines may be the outward showing of dying thoughts that have been retained long after all their youthfulness has departed. Holding tight to the dying thoughts and dead conceptions of life, healthy and vital thoughts are denied admission; and nature is ever suggesting oblivion to that which has decayed and become useless.

In the race mind, the possibility of overcoming death is an utter absur­dity. One who openly proclaims this for himself almost surely defeats his own purpose and renders it a practical impossibility; for he thereby precipi­tates upon himself the practically unanimous ridicule and hatred of racial thought. One may accept the idea of a slight extension of the usual span of life as possible, or even probable; one may push off “old age” perhaps for decades; but to live forever! Perhaps it is an absurdity to proclaim the possibility of eternal life here, when few are able even to have health, harmo­ny, or happiness at the present moment.

The race is now gradually accepting the previously rejected conception of mental or spiritual healing; and in due course of time, first the individual and then the race will advance toward the acceptance of the greater concep­tions that a fuller understanding of Life will force upon them and experience will necessitate and confirm. With the expression and dissemination of the Truth will come its more general acceptance, and the more resistance it has overcome the quicker will it be grasped by humanity in general. The law of the individual and of the race is the same: the individual includes the past ex­perience of the race, together with the aspirations which, after being given living expression, will guide the future of the race.

Love is the ultimate law of Life: the consciousness of harmony through affirmative, positive, and constructive thoughts. The higher ideal does not de­stroy or reject the lower, but appropriates and includes it. It disposes of a negative, not by denying it, but by expression of the more inclusive affirma­tive. It is neither necessary nor advisable to prohibit prohibition or inhibit inhibition. Simply install the new in place of the old, the constructive in place of the destructive, the affirmative in place of the negative, and   the greater good in the place of the lesser good. The darkness of the lesser will fade away in the light of the greater.

Before beginning, and without an end,
As space eternal and as surety sure,
Is fixed a Power divine which moves to good,
Only its laws endure.
—Light of Asia.

<br “page-break-before:auto;=”” mso-break-type:section-break”=””>VOLUNTARY SELF-DISCIPLINE

It is so with dreams, and with men that dream–
None ever knows what there is in store
Till he follows the path of the luring gleam,
Or whether it leads to peace or war;
For without the dream there is never a deed
That is worth the hour it costs to do–
And the man with the vision is this day’s need–
For men may be false, but the dream is true!
—Baltimore Sun.

THE lower forms of life are automatic in their responses to environment. They exercise no choice, and have no individuality. Each unit is identical with every other, and the instinct of self-preservation impels an automatic ac­ceptance of the pleasurable and a subconscious rejection of the painful. In the most primary forms of life pleasure and happiness are identical, and all else is to be avoided.

In his responses to sense impressions primitive man is closely allied to the animals. He reacts automatically, seeking pleasure always, and ever avoiding pain. He is willing to risk pain only in his pursuit of a more than compensating pleasure, and it is only in his futile search for pleasure that he at first learns the lessons of life.

In the average life, pleasure and sleep are somewhat analogous. While they last they permit one to float along in the stream of life with the least amount of conscious or intelligent effort. They are conservative of previously acquired knowledge, but keep one immune to a deeper understanding.

The automatic subconscious rejection of all that is painful impels one to live with the least conscious exertion. These reactions are related to the past rather than the future. They denote the recurrent suggestions of previously acquired mental habits. It is only to the degree that conscious thought inter­feres with such habits that man grows, develops, and unfolds.

It is man’s contact with environment in his pursuit of pleasure that brings to him suggestions of pain and suffering; and his efforts to avoid these leads him to the acquisition of greater knowledge than he can derive from pleasure alone. It is human nature to accept pleasure without question, but pain always invites investigation in one’s desire to end it, or avoid its repeti­tion.

At first man seeks to avoid pain in the belief that it is in the nature of an unnecessary or unwarranted punishment, probably inflicted by some malevo­lent force, and something that stands in the way of his orderly progress and development. He discerns in it no possible advantage, and is concerned only with escaping from it.

With a deeper understanding he recognizes that pain and suffering are necessary incidents of growth and development, that they are not punishment inflicted by a malevolent outside power, but are rather rewards—or kindly hints, tests, warnings, or guides. While no less anxious to avoid pain and suffering, he realizes that their causes must be removed, rather than that they be acted on directly.

Man is moved to self-discipline by the reactions of thoughts and acts of his that are out of harmony with universal law. If he runs counter to the life- currents of health, happiness, or prosperity, he is disciplined by the results of the causes he has thereby set in motion. If he fails to observe physical or mental laws, there will be reactions that will discipline him, or cause him pain and suffering that will at least suggest to him that he must regulate his life differently.

In order to overcome the effects of his non-observance of the laws that govern life, one will deprive himself of something that he regards as confer­ring pleasure, he will forgo some physical gratification, or he will purposely do that which is unpleasant or distasteful to him. He will fast, or take medi­cine, or deprive himself of smoking, or absent himself from other accustomed physical or mental delights. He will purposely seek that which is painful in order to alleviate or overcome a previously acquired pain.

On the animal plane one does not seek mental or physical pain except for the purpose of meeting that which is already painful, or substituting a lesser pain for a greater one. One may voluntarily forgo a gratification when convinced that it will result in suffering that is more intense than the tempo­rary pleasure it will afford. Taking the cause and result into consideration, he realizes that altogether no pleasure will be secured.

In time, however, it becomes evident that discipline, in itself, has its beneficial use and purpose, and that it is well for one to do many things not pleasurable in themselves. Not only may one counteract or overcome greater pains, but he may thereby lay the foundation for pleasures of a character that are permanent, and which constitute the essentials of happiness.

The elements of happiness are those traits of character that afford an abiding gratification, irrespective of immediate pleasure or pain. They tran­scend temporary sensations, and are independent of present feelings. These elements are cultivated through the agency of pain and suffering, and the dis­cipline resulting from the necessary purposeful rejection of pleasure or accep­tance of pain.

After one has come to realize the beneficent purpose of the discipline resorted to in order to alleviate pain and suffering, it begins to dawn upon him that perhaps he may secure the advantages of discipline without waiting for it to be imposed upon him by undesirable circumstances. Is it necessary to wait until pain and suffering impel or practically compel discipline before one may secure its advantages?

A little voluntary self-discipline for its own sake soon convinces one that its practice will serve to avoid many of the pains and sufferings that for­merly compelled unwilling self-discipline. It will have become a preventive rather than a cure. It may not be entirely a physical pleasure, but the spiritual recompense makes amends for any physical deprivation.

One may discipline himself either by voluntarily forgoing some physi­cal or mental pleasure, or by accepting some physical or mental pain. Through this method he will gain greater conscious control of his emotions and feelings, a more definite direction of his thoughts, and a more effective regulation of his physical activities. It will give him a fuller consciousness of his ability to shape his life according to his own desires, and a deeper realiza­tion of his inherent divinity.

Wisdom seems to consist largely in an understanding of one’s ability to do consciously, purposely, and beneficially, exactly that which universal law impels him to do under adverse conditions, and to which he responds grud­gingly, unwillingly, and in the belief that he is being forced to do, by what is an intentional punishment or deprivation. All of God’s laws tend finally to convince man that, whatever in his ignorance he may look upon as essentially evil, in his wisdom he realizes to be fundamentally good.

Wisdom, therefore, consists in conscious harmony with universal law rather than in opposition to it; in recognizing the essential good in seeming evil; in loving obedience rather than hateful resistance; in the recognition that at the heart or root of every activity there is an all-inclusive love. With this realization self-discipline is no longer regarded as a deprivation or a hardship, but as an avenue to a deeper wisdom and a greater happiness. Spiritual reali­zation more than compensates for physical privation, and soul happiness do­minates physical pain; while voluntary self-discipline has become an instru­ment to elevate one to the higher realms of spiritual attainment.

<br “page-break-before:auto;=”” mso-break-type:section-break”=””>THE SPIRITUAL LIFE

Great truths are dearly bought. The common truth,
Such as men give and take from day to day.
Comes in the common walk of easy life,
Blown by the careless wind, across our way.
Great truths are greatly won, not found by chance,
Nor wafted on the breath of summer dream;
But grasped in the great struggle of the soul.
Hard buffeting with adverse wind and stream.
—H. BONAR.

THE life that functions in spiritual realization is the life of love, which is the conscious recognition of mutuality, harmony, correspondence, unity.

This is a universe of love; and God or Good pervades all space, all time, and all life. The universe is permeated with a kindly motive, and all the principles of nature or of God are inherently beneficent. All experiences and environments are the manifestations of love. There is no principle of evil; and there are no dual principles. There is no deity separated from or outside of the Universe, and no distant space reserved as a future heaven. Heaven and hell are conditions of mind, and each of us makes his own heaven and hell, here and now.

There is but One Life, inseparable and indivisible. Ignoring the body, deprecating the material, or mutilating the physical, is a denial of God and a defamation of the spirit. And whoever is “living in the clouds,” and neglect­ing his physical life and the needs of his material existence, is frittering away his spiritual opportunities.

All that is is spiritual; and all that exists is the manifestation of the spi­ritual. All is spirit, visible or invisible; all is God, manifest or unmanifest. To deny either the invisible or the visible is to deny both; to immolate the one is to immolate both; to defame the part defames The Whole.

Being and manifestation are one. There are not two separate lives, one the spiritual, and the other the physical. There is but One Life; and while that life is fundamentally spiritual, it is also primarily material. The One Life is both manifest and unmanifest, visible and invisible, tangible and intangible, material and immaterial, physical and spiritual. To deny, ignore, or degrade the manifestation of life is to deny, ignore, or degrade all life.

One of the necessities of the spiritual life is prayer. Not the service of forms. Not the observances of a special hour and place. Not necessarily the prayer of words, but the prayer of thought and act. A life of unceasing prayer! Not offerings to an imaginary Being whom one cannot possibly assist, but to one’s fellow-beings who are in need of his ministrations. The spiritual life re­cognizes the eternal present, and the necessity of living the life here and now.

The spiritual life voices a religion of love and of humanity. Now is the time to live the spiritual life, and here the place to live it. There will never be a greater opportunity than is afforded now for a life of love or a manifestation of the spiritual life. Man’s duty is to man; his highest duty is to the self. The individualized self is an inseparable portion of the Universal Self that consti­tutes God, Infinite Spirit, the Universe. To degrade the self—the soul, unma­nifest or manifest—is to degrade God.

The spiritual life is the life of principle, the life that takes as its guide that which is eternal and unchanging. It manifests a consistency of thought and act, a comprehension of the grandeur of the Self, and an understanding of its inherent godhood. The spiritual life reflects the knowledge that every dis­regard of principle inevitably provokes discord and inharmony, and that en­during happiness may be attained only through the observance of principle.

The spiritual life, above all, means a life of integrity. It means the ful­fillment of obligations, the payment of just debts, the faithful discharge of all duties. Forms and observances bear no direct or even necessary relation to the spiritual life. Motives and actions alone constitute its vitality.

The one who cheats, who steals, who lies, or who hates, does not live the spiritual life. Nor does one who lacks in honesty, in fair dealing, in tolera­tion, in love, in integrity. He may be a church member of the highest stand­ing, his intense respectability may be beyond dispute, and his reputation may be the highest, but he is not living a spiritual life.

The spiritual life involves a vital recognition of the principles of equit­able exchange—that one receives as he gives, and reaps what he sows. Such a consciousness demands and compels full payment of whatever is received. To live the spiritual life involves a gladness and a joyfulness in paying one’s debts and fulfilling one’s obligations.

If one is unwilling to discharge his just debts, to give full return for what he receives, to pay the price of what he has bargained for—if he is not disposed to transfer that which he has expressly or implicitly agreed to ex­change for what he receives—is it likely that he will willingly give to others what is more important, more valuable, more beneficial? If he will not pay in material wealth, will he render compensation in the spiritual wealth that is far more valuable?

Is it possible to do this? Does he not close himself to the consciousness of the spirit when he degrades himself on the material plane? Can he lead a life of beauty in the realm of cause while he manifests a life of ugliness in the realm of effect? Is it possible to lead a life of spiritual integrity while violat­ing the principles of material integrity? Are there two contrasting sets of principles?

The spiritual life requires no outward authority. The soul is its own au­thority. It links itself to no special observances; it requires no church or or­ganization; it demands no holy book or sacred scripture. All these have their use, and they all have their place as the agents of growth and development. And all of these instruments are possessed of beauty and value as one dis­cerns in them their spiritual significance, and discovers beneath the form and the word the underlying essentials.

The life of principle, the life of equitable exchange, the life that gladly gives it full measure of return, is possible to all. The life of integrity of thought and action is at the command of each. No great learning is necessary, no highly developed intellectual faculties. No; the higher the truths the more simple they are, and the easier are they to follow after one has vitally ab­sorbed their significance. It is the confused or ignorant who are mysterious, and it is lack of wisdom or knowledge that is reflected in clouded and ob­scured expression of the truth.

It is not always sufficient to “love your neighbor as yourself.” That is not a complete statement of the requirement. When one degrades the self— when one degrades either the spiritual or the physical from its high estate— and then “loves his neighbor as himself,” he is simply hating his neighbor as he hates the self. One must elevate and glorify the self, and then only may he elevate and glorify his neighbor. One cannot raise others except as he raises the self.

The man who lives the spiritual life is a man of character. He holds his head erect in his godhood, whatever others may say or do. He recognizes love only in what has the appearance of abuse or calumny. He is unmoved by the anger or passion of others. He recognizes God and love in all life and all of life’s manifestations. He pays his debts, whether they are spiritual, moral, mental, physical, financial, or otherwise. He cheerfully gives full compensa­tion for what he receives. He faces the world fearlessly. Discharging his obli­gations as he progresses, he is nowise in arrears. He senses the spiritual and the material as one, and infuses into the physical a consciousness of the spirit that inherently pervades it.

Such a one is living a life of integrity to high ideals. And this is the spi­ritual life.