THE HIDDEN SIDE OF THINGS/PART 20

 

CHAPTER XX

 

BY WHAT WE DO WORK FOR THE POOR

 

THE question of what we can do is one which it is impossible to treat fully, for the reason that each person has his own opportunities, and no two sets of opportunities are alike. We are often asked whether a Theosophist should undertake any of the ordinary charitable lines of work, which are not specially connected with the Theosophical Society. This is a question which each must answer for himself, because the answer to it depends on his special circumstances. I think that it may be laid down as a general rule that when there is specially Theosophical work that he can do, he should devote his time to that, because that is a kind of business that only he can do, whereas many other people can do the ordinary charitable labour as well as he.

 

Take for example a case of what is called slum work, the direct help of the poor by visiting them and carrying to them various small comforts. None can deny that this is a most excellent thing to do, and that it sadly needs doing; but if one is to choose between spending a certain time in this distinctly physical occupation and doing something in a higher world which will tend to bring nearer the time when slums shall no longer exist, then I say that the latter is the greater work to do and the better way of employing the time, for only one who has studied Theosophy can help to spread the Theosophical teaching, whereas any good and kind-hearted person, of whatever class, can undertake the task of carrying food and blankets to the poor.

 

It is good work, surely, to help to make a road, but we should not put to that task of road-making a man who has qualified himself as an engineer or a doctor. Any man who has a talent in a certain direction or has the knowledge necessary to enable him to work in a particular way, should be employed along his special line, for there are only a few who can do that, whereas anyone can do the unskilled labour of the world, and there are vast numbers who can do only that. Therefore it seems to me that when a Theosophist can employ his time in spreading and teaching Theosophy, he should not put this aside in order to take up a more ordinary kind of work for the world. But if he is so situated that he cannot do anything for the Theosophical propaganda which is his speciality, he ought certainly then to employ his spare time in the highest type of charitable labour within his reach.

 

What is required is that he should cultivate a spirit of benevolence, that he should be eagerly watching all day long for opportunities of being helpful. Best of course if he can be useful in the highest way, is guiding people towards Theosophy, but when that is not for the moment possible, he should be helpful in a more ordinary manner. He should employ himself in sending out benevolent thoughts, or in making people happy in the physical world. He should import the idea of helpfulness into every little daily action. Each man must decide for himself how he can best do this, and his study of the hidden side of things will offer him many suggestions; for it makes daily life much more interesting, and enables us much more useful than we could be without it.

 

It shows us that many apparently trivial actions reach further than we think, and therefore impresses strongly upon us the necessity for living carefully and recollectedly. It shows a man that every action has its effect upon those around him, even when it seems on the surface to concern himself alone; that for this effect on others he is responsible, and that it offers him a welcome opportunity for doing good. When this is once grasped, he realises that he must order his life from this new point of view-- that it must be spent, even in small things, not for himself, but for others. Many a man lives for others in the sense that he regulates his life on what he imagines others are thinking about him; but our student' s altruism will be of another sort. He will put before himself for his guidance two stringent rules:

 

That everything shall be done unselfishly.

 

That everything shall be done with definite purpose, and as perfectly as he can do it.

 

THE FORCE OF THE MASTER

 

If he does this, if he lives in this way, the Powers who rule the world will soon recognise him and use him, for by living thus he makes himself a ready channel for the power of the Master, a valuable instrument in His hands. Truly, the help of the Holy Ones is given chiefly upon higher planes; but it is not confined to them; it acts in the physical world as well, if we give it the opportunity. The Master will not waste His strength in forcing a stream of His energy down into the dense matter of this lower world, because to do that would not be good spiritual economics; it would not be utilising that amount of energy to the best advantage. But if a man already living in our lower world so arranges his life as to make himself a fit channel for that energy, the position is altered, and it becomes worth the Master' s while to make an effort which would not otherwise have been remunerative.

 

We have to remember that a channel must be open at both ends, not at one end only. The higher end of our channel consists in the devotion and unselfishness of the man, in the very fact that he is anxious to be used, and is ordering his life for that purpose. The lower end is the man' s physical body, through which the influence must pass out, and this also needs careful attention, in order that it may not befoul the stream which the Master sends.

 

Remember that we are dealing with no vague abstraction, but with a physical though invisible fluid, which permeates the matter of the body and exudes through the pores of the skin, or is projected from the hands or feet. Therefore that body must be pure inside, uncontaminated by flesh-foods, alcohol or tobacco; and it must also be kept scrupulously clean outside by frequent and thorough ablutions, especial attention being paid to the hands and feet. Otherwise the fluid, transmuted with so much care from higher planes, will be polluted as it passes through man, and will fail to achieve the object for which it was sent.

 

Although this force radiates from the worthy student at all times, he can also gather it up and pour it out with definite intention upon a particular object. In a previous chapter it was explained how the ordinary man can protect himself from evil influence when shaking hands, or when surrounded by a crowd; but the student, instead of protecting himself, will make out of these unpleasing occurrences opportunities to act upon others. When he shakes hands with a man, he will send the Master' s power rushing through his extended arm. The beginner may ask: “How can I do that? And even if I try, how can I be certain that I have succeeded ?”

 

All that is needed here is a firm conviction and an intense resolve-- a conviction, based upon his study, that this is a thing that can be done, and the intense resolve to do it, which comes from his deep devotion to the Master and his earnest desire to do His will. Success in all magical efforts depends upon the absolute confidence of the operator; a man who doubts his own capacity has already failed. So that all that is necessary is that he should mingle with the hearty welcome which he extends to his visitor the strong thought: “I give you herewith the love of the Master.” In the same way, when he finds himself in a crowd, he will spread among the people that same influence of the Master' s love; and that outpouring will be for him a far better protection than any shell.

 

THE MANUFACTURE OF TALISMANS

 

Another use which can be made of this force is to charge certain objects with it, thereby converting them into talismans. I have written before of the effects producible by such charms; I speak now of the process of their manufacture. The more advanced branches of this art require definite knowledge, obtainable only by an extended course of study; but any earnest man can make a temporary talisman which will be of great use to one who needs help.

 

One who is accustomed to the work can perform any ordinary process of magnetisation or demagnetisation practically instantaneously by the mere exertion of his will; but the beginner usually finds it necessary to help himself in the concentration of his will by thinking carefully of the various stages of the process and using the appropriate gestures. Suppose, for example, that it is desirable to magnetise some small body (such as a ring, a locket, a penholder) in order to make it an amulet against fear; what is the easiest method of procedure?

 

Realise first exactly what is wanted. We wish to load that body with etheric, astral and mental matter heavily charged with a particular set of undulations-- those of courage and confidence. The trained occultist would gather together each of those levels such types of matter as will most easily receive and retain vibrations of just that character; the beginner, knowing nothing, of that, must use whatever material comes to hand and so will have to expend a greater amount of force than would be exerted by his more experienced brother.

 

The making of an amulet may be likened to the writing of an inscription, and the acquisition of the right kind of matter corresponds to obtaining a perfect surface on which to write. The beginner, who cannot do this must write with greater labour and less perfection of result upon the surface that happens to be available. The first difficulty that confronts him is that his sheet is not even a blank one; his paper already bears an inscription, which must be removed before he can use it. If, the ring or locket has been worn by anyone, it is already full of the magnetism of that person-- magnetism which may be better or may be worse than that of the student, but is at any rate different from it, and so is an obstacle-- just as any kind of writing, however good, which already fills a sheet of paper, stands in the way of its use for further writing. Even if the ring or pen-holder be quite new, it is likely to contain something of the special magnetism either of the maker or of the seller; so in any case the first thing is to remove whatever may be there-- to obtain a clear sheet for our inscription. There are various methods by which this may be done; let me describe a simple one.

 

Rest the tip of the forefinger of the right hand against the end of the thumb, so as to make a ring, and imagine a film of ether stretched across that ring like the head of a drum. Will strongly that such a film should be made, and remember that that very effort of the will does make it, although you cannot see it. Remember also that it is essential to the success of the experiment that you should be quite certain of this fact-- that your previous study should have convinced you that the human will has the power to arrange subtle matter in this or any other way.

 

Then, keeping your attention firmly fixed upon that film, so as to hold it quite rigid, pass slowly through it the object to be demagnetised, and by so doing you will cleanse it entirely of the etheric part of its previous magnetism. I do not mean that you will leave it without etheric matter, but that every particle of such matter will be swept out and replaced; just as, if a tube is filled with gas and one blows strongly into one end of it, all the gas is driven out; but the tube is not therefore empty, as the pressure of the surrounding air immediately refills it. So the specially charged ether is dredged out of the locket or pen-holder, and its place is taken by the ordinary ether which interpenetrates the surrounding atmosphere.

 

The next step is to let the etheric film dissolve, and replace it by one of astral matter, through which the object is again passed. The process may be repeated with a film of mental matter, and we shall then have the object entirely free on all three planes from any sort of specialised magnetism-- a clean sheet, in fact, upon which we can write what we will. After a certain amount of practice the student can make a combined film containing etheric, astral and mental matter, so as to perform the whole operation by passing the object once through the ring.

 

The operator must then exercise all his strength to fill himself with the qualities which he wishes the amulet to convey (in this case fearlessness and self-reliance), excluding for the moment all thought of other attributes and becoming the living incarnation of these. Then, when he has thus wound himself up to his highest level of enthusiasm, let him take the object in his left hand, or lay it on the table in front of him, and pour magnetism on it through the fingers of his right hand, all the time willing with his utmost strength that it shall be filled with the very essence of valour, calmness and intrepidity.

 

It will probably help him in concentration if, while doing this, he repeats to himself firmly again and again such words as: “Courage, confidence, in the Name of the Master,” “Where this object is, may no fear enter,” or any others expressing a similar idea. Let him do this for a few minutes, never allowing his attention to swerve for a moment, and he need have no shade of doubt that he has made a really effective talisman.

 

This process will probably occupy the tyro for some time, but a man who is accustomed to it does it quickly and easily. The trained occultist makes constant use of this power as a means of helping those with whom he comes into contact; he never despatches a letter, or even a postcard, without thinking what good gift of refreshing, consoling or strengthening magnetism he can send with it. He has at his command many other ways of making a talisman besides that which I have described; perhaps it may help towards a fuller comprehension of the subject if I enumerate some of them, even though they are quite beyond the reach of the ordinary student.

 

VARIETIES OF TALISMANS

 

Amulets are of all sorts and kinds-- literally many thousands of kinds-- but they may be arranged for our purposes into four classes, which we will call respectively general, adapted, ensouled and linked.

 

1. General. The method which I have suggested above produces a talisman of this description. The trained man naturally obtains with less labour a better result, not only because he knows how to use his will effectively, but because he has learnt to select the most suitable materials; consequently the influence of his amulet is stronger, and lasts for many years instead of perhaps for a few months. This form of talisman is quite simple; its business is to pour out a steady stream of undulations expressing the quality with which it is charged, and it will continue to do this with undiminished vigour for a period the length of which depends upon the force originally put into it.

 

2 . Adapted. The adapted amulet is one that has been carefully prepared to fit a particular person. Its maker studies the man for whom it is intended, and notes carefully the deficiencies in his mental, astral and etheric bodies. Then he culls from the matter of the various planes the ingredients of his talisman, just as a physician selects the drugs to compound into a prescription, choosing a certain type of essence in order to repress an undesirable astral tendency, another in order to stimulate the sluggish action of some defective department of mental activity, and so on. Thus he produces an amulet accurately adapted to the needs of a particular person, and capable of doing for that person enormously more than a general talisman can do; but it would be of little use to anyone else but the man for whom it is intended. It is like a skillfully-made key with many wards, which exactly fits its lock, but will not open any other; while a general talisman may be compared to a skeleton key, which will open many inferior locks, but does not perfectly suit any.

 

3. Ensouled. Sometimes it is desired to establish a centre of radiation which, instead of acting for a few score years at most, shall continue its outpouring through the centuries. In this case it is not enough to charge the selected object with a dose of magnetic force-- for, however large that dose may be, it must some time be exhausted; to produce this more permanent result we must bring into play some form of life; and for this purpose one of two methods is usually adopted.

 

The first is to include in the physical charm a minute fragment of one of those higher minerals which are sufficiently alive to throw out a ceaseless stream of particles. When that is done, the store of force poured into the amulet will last almost indefinitely longer, for instead of radiating steadily in all directions on its own account, it remains self-contained, and charges only the particles which pass through it. The work of distribution is thus done by the mineral, and a vast economy of energy is thereby secured.

 

The second plan is so to arrange the ingredients of the talisman as to make it a means of manifestation for any one of certain comparatively undeveloped orders of nature-spirits. There are tribes of these creatures which, though full of energy and strongly desirous to do something with it, cannot express themselves unless they can find some sort of outlet. It is possible so to magnetise an amulet as to make it precisely the kind of outlet required, and thus to ensure the steady outflow through it of a stream of energy at high pressure, which may last for thousands of years, to the intense delight of the nature-spirits and the great benefit of all who approach the magnetised centre.

 

4. Linked. The linked talisman differs completely from the other kinds in one important particular. All those previously described are made and set going by their creators, and then left to run their course and live their life, just as a clockmaker constructs a timepiece and then sells it to a customer and knows no more about it. But the clockmaker sometimes chooses to remain in touch with his masterpiece, and undertakes to keep it wound and in order; and this corresponds to the arrangement made in the case of a linked talisman. Instead of merely loading the object with influence of a certain type, the operator when he magnetises it brings it into close rapport with himself, so that it may become a kind of outpost of his consciousness, a sort of telephone-receiver always connected with him, through which he can reach the holder or be reached by him.

 

An amulet of this type does not work mechanically upon the gyroscope principle, as the others do; or perhaps I should rather say it has a slight action of that sort, because it so strongly suggests the presence of it creator that it often acts as a deterrent, preventing the wearer from doing what he would not like the maker to see him do; but its principal action is of quite another kind. It makes a link through which the wearer can at a critical moment send a cry for help to its builder, who will instantly feel the appeal and respond by an outpouring of strength of whatever type may be required.

 

Its manufacturer can also use it as a channel through which he can send periodic waves of influence, and so administer a course of treatment-- a kind of emotional or mental massage. Such a method of handling a case (I believe our Christian Science friends call it “absent treatment”) may be undertaken without an amulet, merely by projecting astral and mental currents; but a talisman makes the work easier, and enables the operator to deal more readily with the etheric double of the subject.

 

Usually the link is made only in the physical, astral and lower mental worlds, and is therefore confined to the personality of its constructor; but there are instances when a Great One has chosen to link a physical talisman to Himself in His causal body, and then its influence lasts through the ages. This was done in the case of the physical objects buried at various points of future importance by Apollonius of Tyana.

 

DEMAGNETISATION

 

It not infrequently occurs that it is desirable to demagnetise objects which are larger than those instanced above. In such cases one may hold the two hands at the requisite distance apart, and imagine a broad band of etheric matter extending between them, with which the previous magnetism can be dredged out as before. Another plan is to hold the two hands one on each side of the object, and send a strong stream of etheric matter through it from one hand to the other, thus washing away the undesired influence. The same force can often be employed in the same way to relieve pain. A headache, for example, is usually either caused or accompanied by a congestion of etheric matter in the brain, and it can often be cured by that same plan of putting the hands one on each side of the sufferer' s temples and washing away the congested matter by an effort of the will.

 

Another use to which the power of demagnetisation can be put is to clear objectionable influences out of a room. One may have a visitor who leaves an unpleasant atmosphere behind him; or one may find uncomfortable astral conditions prevailing in one' s apartment at a hotel; and if such an emergency arises, it is useful to know how to deal with it. One practised in these mild forms of magic would manage the business in a few moments by the exercise of his trained will; but the younger student will probably find it better to employ intermediate means, precisely as the Catholic Church does.

 

The cubic content of even a small room is too great for the employment of the dredging tactics previously recommended, so we must invoke the great principle of sympathy and antipathy, and set up within the room a series of vibrations so hostile to the evil influence that the latter is dominated or driven forth. To create such an undulation is not difficult; but means must be found for spreading it rapidly all over the room. One ready method is the burning of incense or pastilles; another is sprinkling of water; but both incense and water must first be passed through the process recommended for the making of a talisman. Their original magnetism must be removed, and they must be loaded with the thought of purity and peace. If that be thoroughly done, when the incense is burned, its particles (each bearing the desired influence) will quickly be disseminated through every cubic inch of air in the room; or if water be used and sprinkled about the chamber, each drop of it will at once become a centre of active radiation. A vaporiser is an even more effective method of distribution; and if rose-water be used instead of ordinary water, the work of the student will be considerably facilitated.

 

The method of action of these etheric or astral disinfectants is obvious. The disturbing influence of which we desire to rid ourselves expresses itself in etheric and astral waves of a certain length. Our magnetic efforts fill the room with another set of waves, different in length and more powerful, because they have been intentionally set swinging, which probably the others were not. The two sets of inharmonious vibrations cannot co-exist, and so the stronger overpowers and extinguishes the weaker.

 

These are some of the ways in which the force that dwells within man, the force that flows through man, may be used. In this case, as in every other, knowledge is power, in this case, as in every other, additional power means additional responsibility and additional opportunity. If you can readily develop this power, if you can do these things quickly and easily, so much the better for you, so long as you use this advantage unselfishly, and make the world by its means a little happier, a little better, a little cleaner as the result of your efforts.

 

DO LITTLE THINGS WELL

 

Remember the second maxim-- that everything shall be done as perfectly as we can do it. Charge your letter with magnetism and make a talisman of it, by all means; you will do great good thereby; but do not forget that the mere physical handwriting must be perfect also-- first, out of courtesy to the recipient, and secondly, because all work done for the Master must be done with the utmost care, even to the minutest detail. And as all our work is work for Him, executed in His name and to His glory, that means that nothing must ever be done carelessly. In this, too, unselfishness may be applied; no one has the right to cause trouble to another by illegible handwriting-- to save a few moments of his own time by wasting many minutes of another's.

 

We must not think that because we know more of the hidden side of things than others, and so are able to add unexpected blessings to daily acts, we are thereby absolved from doing the ordinary part of those acts to the very best of our ability. Not worse but better than that of others must our work be, in every respect and from every point of view, for the honour of the Master whom we serve. What the work is that He gives us, matters little; that it should be nobly done matters supremely. And the man who, all his life through, does the small, daily details well and carefully, will not be found wanting when some day he suddenly finds himself face to face with a great opportunity.

 

The little things in life weigh more than the big things; there are so many of them, and it is so much more difficult to go on steadily doing them. Saint Augustine remarked: “Many there be who will die for Christ, but few there be who will live for Him.” Many of us would instantly and gladly do some great thing for the Master; but He does not commonly ask for that. He asks us to live our daily life nobly, not for ourselves but for others; to forget ourselves, only to remember the good of mankind. Let us then form the habit of helpfulness-- for it soon becomes a habit, like everything else. It certainly makes life more interesting; and, above all, it brings us every day nearer to Him.

 

WRITING A LETTER

 

I mentioned some pages back that an occultist never despatches a letter without putting into it something of strength and encouragement; but it does not need person of a great advancement to perform so elementary an act of magic as this. Anyone may do it with a little trouble, when be understands how these forces work.

 

We all know that when a psychometrist takes a letter into his hand he can describe the personal appearance of the writer, the condition of his mind at the time of writing, the room in which he was sitting, any other people who happened to be present, and even the surrounding scenery.

 

It is manifest, therefore, that a letter brings with it much more than the message written in it, and though only one who is developed as a psychometrist may be able to sense this with sufficient clearness to reduce it to actual vision, yet an effect of some sort must obviously be produced even upon those who do not fully see. The vibrations upon which the psychometrist' s observations are founded are there, whether there is or is not anyone present who can see by their means, and they must affect to some extent anyone with whom they come directly into contact. This being so, we see that here is an opportunity for the person who understands. The student can learn the operation of these forces, and can then direct them intelligently as he will.

 

Suppose, for example, he wishes to write a letter of condolence and consolation to some friend who has, as we mistakenly phrase it, ` lost' some one near and dear to him. We all know the difficulty of writing such a letter. In attempting it we put upon the paper whatever of solace comes into our minds, and we try to express it as forcefully and sympathetically as we can, yet we are conscious all the while that words are impotent in such a case, and that they can bring but poor comfort to the bereaved one. We feel the futility and inefficiency of our communication, though we send it because we wish to express our commiseration, and we know that we ought to do something.

 

Such a letter need not be fruitless and unavailing. On the contrary it may produce the most beneficent effect, and may lead to great alleviation of suffering. Words often fail us, but our thoughts do not; and in the writing of such a letter a man' s heart may be filled with the strong wish to bring encouragement and help, however poorly the written lines may express it. If he exercises his will he may make that letter bear with it his thought and feeling, so that they shall react upon the mind and emotions of the recipient, while his eyes are perusing the manuscript.

 

We know that currents of thought and feeling can be sent to the mourner immediately and without the physical agency of a letter, and one who has no other pressing work could undoubtedly console and strengthen the sufferer by pouring upon him a steady stream of such thought and feeling. The writing of the letter by no means precludes the student from offering efficient help in that other way as well; but it usefully supplements such work, and carries it on while the student is otherwise engaged.

 

Those who are trying on their small scale to help the world soon find that they have a multitude of cases upon their hands, and that they can work best by dividing their time between them. The more advanced student will leave with each such case a puissant thought-form, which will radiate invigoration and cheerfulness until he can again turn his attention to that case. But one who has not yet developed his powers to that extent may readily produce an effect almost equivalent, if he has a physical basis upon which to found the thought-form. A letter furnishes him with exactly such a basis, and into it he can pour healing and strengthening forces until it becomes a veritable talisman. If the writer thinks strongly of his sympathy and affection, and wills earnestly to charge the letter with this thought and feeling, it will assuredly bear this message for him. When it reaches its destination the friend who opens it will naturally recognise the kindly intention of the sender, and by that very recognition will open himself towards the influence, and adopt unconsciously a recipient attitude. As he reads the written message, the helpful thoughts and feelings are playing all the while upon his mind and emotions, and the effect produced upon him will be out of all proportion to the mere physical words.

 

The action of the letter does not cease here. The recipient reads it, lays it aside and perhaps forgets it, but its vibrations are nevertheless steadily radiating, and they continue to influence him long after the letter itself has passed from his mind. If he happens to put the letter in his pocket and carry it about with him, its influence upon him will naturally be closer and stronger; but in any case such a letter of helpfulness and good intention will fill the whole room with peace and comfort, so that the mourner will feel its effect whenever he enters his chamber, however unconscious he may be as to its source.

 

Obviously it is not only for consolation that this power can be employed. A mother, who feels uneasy as to the temptations which may surround an absent son, may send him letters which will encompass him with a halo of purity and peace, and bear him unconscious and uncontaminated through many a scene of peril. A multitude of words is not necessary; even a humble postcard may bear its message of love and strength, and may be a real shield against evil thought, or an impulse in the direction of good.

 

It may occur to some readers that a letter is handled by so many persons before it reaches its destination that any magnetism that it might bring with it would necessarily be of mixed character. There is much truth in this; but the postmen, the sorters and the servants who handle it have no special interest in it, and consequently such influence as their thoughts may exercise upon it is of the most superficial character; whereas the writer has intentionally thrown into it a wealth of feeling which has thoroughly permeated it and is strong enough to overpower all casual connections of this sort.

 

Incidentally this helps us to understand that there is always a responsibility attached to this action of writing a letter. We may charge our writing voluntarily with a great force for good, and that needs a special effort of the will; but even without any special effort, our mood when writing undoubtedly impresses itself upon the paper, though naturally not so strongly. If therefore a man be in a condition of irritation or depression when inditing a letter, these emotions of his will be faithfully mirrored in his work, and the letter will bear these vibrations with it and radiate them to the recipient, even though they are not at all intended for him, and the original annoyance or depression was in no way connected with him. If on the other hand the writer is serene and happy, a letter for him, even though it be nothing but a curt business communication, will contain within itself something of these qualities, and will spread a good influence around it.

 

It is therefore exceedingly necessary that a person among whose duties it comes to write many letters should cultivate serenity and kindliness, and should endeavour to hold himself in a sympathetic and helpful frame of mind, in order that his letters should carry with them this good influence. One who is captious and critical, dictatorial and ill-tempered, is entirely unfit to hold any secretarial position, as he will inevitably distribute discomfort and dissension to all those who are so unfortunate as to have to correspond with him.

 

The preference which many sentimental people feel for a letter written in manuscript, rather than for one produced by means of a typewriter, is due to the fact that in passing the hand again and again over the paper a much greater amount of personal magnetism is stored in the letter than when the hand does not come directly into contact with it; though a student of occultism who writes a letter in type charges it with magnetism by a single effort of his will far more effectually than it is unconsciously charged when written by the hand of one who has not learnt these truths.

 

The occultist extends this idea in many other directions. Every present which he gives to a friend is made to produce a far more permanent result than the mere pleasure that is caused by its arrival. If he gives or lends a book to some one, he does not forget to add to the arguments of the author his own earnest desire that the reader' s thoughts may be widened and liberalised. Let us all try to spread help and blessing in this way; assuredly our efforts will not fail to bring about their due effect. Every object about us must be a centre of influence, and we may make its action strong or weak, useful or detrimental. It is for us therefore to see that whenever we make a present to a friend its influence shall be powerful and definite, and always for good. These matters are little studied yet in the outer world, but they represent great truths for all that. Wise men will pay attention to them and govern their lives accordingly, and thereby make themselves both far happier and far more useful than those who are content to remain ignorant of the higher science.

 

WORK DURING SLEEP

 

One of the most pleasing of the subsidiary points revealed to us by Theosophical study is that of the possibility of usefully employing the hours during which the body is sleeping. I well remember in my younger days how fiercely I resented the necessity of spending time in sleep when there was such an overwhelming amount of work to be done, and how I consequently tried to minimise the time devoted to this. Being healthy and hardy, for some years I managed to exist on only four hours of sleep each night, and thought that I was thereby gaining time for the work which I had to do. Now that I know more about it, I realise that I was in error, how that I could actually have increased my usefulness if I had allowed myself to take an ordinary amount of rest, besides providing myself with a still stronger body for the work of my later years. But it was indeed a comfort to me when I found from the Theosophical literature that only the body is insensible during sleep, and that the real man can continue his work and indeed do all the more of it, and do it better, because he is untrammelled by his physical vehicle.

 

Yet even Theosophical students, who are quite accustomed to think about the higher worlds and the possibility of activity in them, often do not realise how entirely that is the real life, and this in the physical world only an interlude in it. In our waking consciousness most of us always consider the diurnal life as real, and the nocturnal or dream life as unreal; but in truth the very reverse is the case, as may easily be seen if we remember that in this life most of us know nothing whatever of that , whereas in that life we remember the whole of this. This life, therefore, has long daily breaks in its continuity; that is continuous from the cradle to the grave and beyond it. Furthermore, because during that life the physical body is for the time laid aside, the ego can manifest much more of himself. The man in his astral body is much more nearly himself than this fettered representation of him which is all that we can see down here. When, later on in our evolution, further development takes place and the man can function in his mental body, we are another whole stage nearer to the reality; indeed, beyond that it is only one stage to the manifestation of the ego in his causal body, having a unified consciousness which extends through all the ages, from the time when long ago he rose from the animal kingdom to the infinity which lies before him.

 

Let us see then what we can do with this life at night, while we leave our physical body to its rest. Many forms of activity open before us, and as I have written fully about them in the book called Invisible Helpers I will not repeat myself here. I may summarise by saying that during our waking hours we can help anyone whom we know to be in sorrow or suffering, by sitting down and forming a clear strong thought-image of the sufferer, and then pouring out a stream of compassion, affection and strength; but during the night we can do more than this-- we can carry this treatment further, because we can ourselves go in the astral body and stand by the bedside of the sufferer, so as to see exactly what is needed, and give whatever may be specially required by the particular case, instead of offering merely general comfort and consolation.

Help and encouragement, can be given not only to the living but also to the vast host of the dead, and they often seriously need it, owing partly to the false and wicked religious teaching which is so often given, and partly to the blank ignorance of other-world conditions which obtains among the general public on this side of the veil. In such work as this there is infinite variety, yet even this by no means exhausts the possibilities which open before us. In the astral world we can both give and receive instruction. From the anonymity of the astral world we can assist, inspire and advise all sorts of people who would be unlikely to listen to us physically. We can suggest good and liberal ideas to ministers and statesmen, to poets and preachers, and to all the many varieties of writers in books, magazines and newspapers. We can suggest alike plots to novelists and good ideas to philanthropists. We are free to range wherever we will and to do whatever work presents itself to us. Incidentally we can visit all the interesting spots of the world, and see all its most magnificent buildings and its most lovely scenery; its finest art and its grandest music are entirely at our disposal, without money and without price, to say nothing, of the far grander music and the far more splendid colouring of the astral world itself.

 

What can a man do down here to prepare himself to take part in that higher work? Well, the life is a continuous life, and whatever characteristics a man shows here in his physical body he will assuredly also show in his astral body. If here he is full of cheerfulness and always anxious for an opportunity to do service-- then, even though he may remember nothing of it, he may be quite confident that he is employing himself usefully to the utmost of his capacity in the astral realm also. Any limitations of character which show themselves down here, such as irritability, for example, are certainly contracting the sphere of his usefulness in the astral world. And so, if a man who does not bring through any recollection from that life wishes to make quite sure that he is well employed there and is doing his full duty, he can easily be certain of it by carefully making his life here such as he knows to be necessary for that purpose. There is no mystery as to the requirements. Single-mindedness, calmness, courage, knowledge and love will make a thoroughly useful astral worker, and all these qualifications are within reach of any man who will take the trouble to develop them in himself.

 

It is not difficult to see why all these are necessary. A man cannot throw all his energy into such work as this unless the higher life is for him the one object. Knowledge of the astral world, its habitants and its characteristics he must have; otherwise he will constantly blunder, and will find himself helpless before every emergency which arises. Courage he obviously needs, just as does the man who plunges into unexplored jungles or trusts himself on the surface of the mighty deep. Calmness also he must have, for though it is a sufficiently serious matter for a man to loose his temper in the physical world, it is something infinitely more serious when there is no physical matter to prevent the full swing of the vibrations of anger. Any manifestations of irritability, excitement or impatience in the astral world at once make him a fearsome object, so that those whom he wishes to help fly from him in terror. Love of humanity, and the consequent earnest desire to help, he must possess in the fullest degree, for without that he can never have the patience to deal gently with the panic fear and the unreasoning stupidity which we so often find among the dead. For many of the cases with which we have to deal such exceeding gentleness and long-suffering are required that no man, however energetic and earnest he may be, is of use in dealing with them unless he is full of real affection and has his vehicles perfectly under control.

 

Much work is done in the astral world besides that in which we are most specially interested. Many physicians visit, during the sleep of the body, cases in which they are keenly interested or about which they feel anxious. In most cases the man in the physical body is not conscious of this, but any new information that he gains from his astral investigations, often comes through as a kind of intuition into the waking consciousness. I have known doctors who are able to do this intentionally and in full consciousness, and naturally this capacity gives them a great advantage over their colleagues. A doctor who dies, often continues after death to take an interest in his patients, and sometimes endeavours to cure them from the other side, or to suggest (to his successor in charge of the case) treatment which, with his newly acquired astral faculty, he sees would be useful. I knew one doctor (a member of our Society) who immediately after his death went round to collect all his patients who had passed over before him, and regularly preached Theosophy to them, so that he now goes about in the astral world with a large band of attendant disciples.

 

I have known many cases also of friendships formed in the astral world. It often happens, for example, that members of our Society who live at opposite sides of the world and have no opportunity of meeting physically, yet know one another well in their astral life. When they are actually on opposite sides of the world the day of one is the night of the other, but there is generally sufficient overlapping to make acquaintance possible. Those who are ready and effective lecturers in the physical world usually continue their activities in that line during sleep. Groups of students continue their meetings and, with the additional facilities which the astral world gives to them, are frequently able to solve problems which have presented difficulties down here.

 

Not only dead friends but living friends from the other side of the world are round us all day long, although with our physical eyes we do not see them. We are never alone, and as in the astral world most thoughts are visible, it behoves us to bear that fact in mind, lest we should carelessly send out astral or mental vibrations which would cause pain to those whom we love.

 

CHAPTER XXI