i

LIGHT ON THE PATH

A TREATISE

WRITTEN FOR THE PERSONAL USE OF THOSE WHO

ARE IGNORANT OF THE EASTERN WISDOM, AND
WHO DESIRE TO ENTER WITHIN ITS INFLUENCE

WRITTEN DOWN BY
M. C.

WITH NOTES AND COMMENTS

BY THE AUTHOR

REPRINTED VERBATIM FROM THE ORIGINAL TEXTS BY MABEL COLLINS

e-copy with thanks to ULT Phoenix; edited & corrected by ULT London in 2014.
Further corrections 2021; one page format, w/clickable Contents & fns Aug 2022, typos Oct 22. Added Note p. ii Jan 24.

Pagination according to 6th Indian reprint of 2008, which is within a few lines of the 1st Indian ed. 1936
 ii

Note to the Electronic Edition

“Light on the Path,” recorded by Mabel Collins, was recognised

by H. P. Blavatsky as having been inspired by the Master
Hilarion, one of the Adepts belonging to the esoteric
Brotherhood of which both her Teachers and herself are a part.

Hilarion was from Cyprus and also known as “Hillarion Smerdis”

and “Ilarion,” well known to Col. Olcott and other Theosophists. 1

Both inspiring and challenging, clear and paradoxical, this book

has remained a source of reflection and contemplation for
Theosophists for over 125 years. Its message is timeless and
speaks directly to the heart.

“This little book—a true jewel—belongs to, and emanates

from the same school of Indo-Aryan and Buddhist thought
and learning as the teachings in The Secret Doctrine.”

H. P. Blavatsky, Literary Jottings, p 236

1More information about the true author, Master Hilarion, the Adept who
authored this powerful and wonderful little book is at the bottom of this
page [Link]
 iii

First published in London in 1885

First Indian Edition, 1936

Third Indian Reprint, 1968
Fourth Indian Reprint, 1975
Fifth Indian Reprint, 1991
Sixth Indian Reprint, 2008
 iv

Contents

RULES I. ..................................................................................................... 1

II. .................................................................................................... 9

NOTES...................................................................................................... 15

COMMENTS I .......................................................................................... 29

II......................................................................................... 45

III. ...................................................................................... 62

IV. ...................................................................................... 70

KARMA .................................................................................................... 85

Contents & footnotes are clickable

 1

LIGHT ON THE PATH

_______
I.

These rules are written for all disciples: Attend you

to them.

Before the eyes can see, they must be incapable of

tears. Before the ear can hear, it must have lost its
sensitiveness. Before the voice can speak in the
presence of the Masters it must have lost the power
to wound. Before the soul can stand in the presence
of the Masters its feet must be washed in the blood of
the heart.

1. Kill out ambition. (1)

2. Kill out desire of life.

3. Kill out desire of comfort.

4. Work as those work who are ambitious. Respect

life as those do who desire it. Be happy as those are
who live for happiness.
 2

Seek in the heart the source of evil and expunge it.

It lives fruitfully in the heart of the devoted disciple
as well as in the heart of the man of desire. Only the
strong can kill it out. The weak must wait for its
growth, its fruition, its death. And it is a plant that
lives and increases throughout the ages. It flowers
when the man has accumulated unto himself
innumerable existences. He who will enter upon the
path of power must tear this thing out of his heart.
And then the heart will bleed, and the whole life of
the man seem to be utterly dissolved. This ordeal
must be endured: it may come at the first step of the
perilous ladder which leads to the path of life: it may
not come until the last. But, O disciple, remember that
it has to be endured, and fasten the energies of your
soul upon the task. Live neither in the present nor the
future, but in the Eternal. This giant weed cannot
flower there: this blot upon existence is wiped out by
the very atmosphere of eternal thought.

5. Kill all sense of separateness. (2)

6. Kill out desire for sensation.

 3

7. Kill out the hunger for growth.

8. Yet stand alone and isolated, because nothing

that is embodied, nothing that is conscious of
separation, nothing that is out of the eternal, can aid
you. Learn from sensation and observe it, because
only so can you commence the science of self-
knowledge, and plant your foot on the first step of the
ladder. Grow as the flower grows, unconsciously, but
eagerly anxious to open its soul to the air. So must
you press forward to open your soul to the eternal.
But it must be the Eternal that draws forth your
strength and beauty, not desire of growth. For in the
one case you develop in the luxuriance of purity; in
the other your harden by the forcible passion for
personal stature.

9. Desire only that which is within you.

10. Desire only that which is beyond you.

11. Desire only that which is unattainable.

12. For within you is the light of the world – the

only light that can be shed upon the Path. If you are
unable to perceive it
 4

within you, it is useless to look for it elsewhere. It is

beyond you; because when you reach it you have lost
yourself. It is unattainable, because it forever recedes.
You will enter the light, but you will never touch the
flame.

13. Desire power ardently.

14. Desire peace fervently.

15. Desire possessions above all.

16. But those possessions must belong to the pure

soul only, and be possessed therefore by all pure
souls equally, and thus be the especial property of the
whole only when united. Hunger for such possessions
as can be held by the pure soul, that you may
accumulate wealth for that united spirit of life which
is your only true self. The peace you shall desire is
that sacred peace which nothing can disturb, and in
which the soul grows as does the holy flower upon
the still lagoons. And that power which the disciple
shall covet is that which shall make him appear as
nothing in the eyes of men.

17. Seek out the way. (3)

 5

18. Seek the way by retreating within.

19. Seek the way by advancing boldly without.

20. Seek it not by any one road. To each

temperament there is one road which seems the most
desirable. But the way is not found by devotion alone,
by religious contemplation alone, by ardent progress,
by self-sacrificing labour, by studious observation of
life. None alone can take the disciple more than one
step onwards. All steps are necessary to make up the
ladder. The vices of men become steps in the ladder,
one by one, as they are surmounted. The virtues of
man are steps indeed, necessary – not by any means
to be dispensed with. Yet, though they create a fair
atmosphere and a happy future, they are useless if
they stand alone. The whole nature of man must be
used wisely by the one who desires to enter the way.
Each man is to himself absolutely the way, the truth,
and the life. But he is only so when he grasps his
whole individuality firmly, and by the force of his
awakened spiritual will recognizes this individuality
as not himself,
 6

but that thing which he has with pain created for his
own use, and by means of which he purposes, as his
growth slowly develops his intelligence, to reach to
the life beyond individuality. When he knows that for
this his wonderful complex, separated life exists,
then, indeed, and then only, he is upon the way. Seek
it by plunging into the mysterious and glorious
depths of your own inmost being. Seek it by testing
all experience, by utilizing the senses in order to
understand the growth and meaning of individuality,
and the beauty and obscurity of those other divine
fragments which are struggling side by side with you,
and form the race to which you belong. Seek it by
study of the laws of being, the laws of nature, the laws
of the supernatural; and seek it by making the
profound obeisance of the soul to the dim star that
burns within. Steadily, as you watch and worship, its
light will grow stronger. Then you may know you
have found the beginning of the way. And when you
have found the end, its light will suddenly become the
infinite light. (4)

21. Look for the flower to bloom in the

 7

silence that follows the storm: not till then.

It shall grow, it will shoot up, it will make branches

and leaves and form buds, while the storm continues,
while the battle lasts. But not till the whole
personality of the man is dissolved and melted ― not
until it is held by the divine fragment which has
created it, as a mere subject for grave experiment and
experience ― not until the whole nature has yielded
and become subject unto its Higher Self, can the
bloom open. Then will come a calm such as comes in
a tropical county after the heavy rain, when Nature
works so swiftly that one may see her action. Such a
calm will come to the harassed spirit. And in the deep
silence the mysterious event will occur which will
prove that the way has been found. Call it by what
name you will, it is a voice that speaks where there is
none to speak ― it is a messenger that comes, a
messenger without form or substance; or it is the
flower of the soul that has opened. It cannot be
described by any metaphor. But it can be felt after,
looked for, and desired, even amid the raging of the
storm. The silence may last a moment of time or it may
 8

last a thousand years. But it will end. Yet you will

carry its strength with you. Again and again the battle
must be fought and won. It is only for an interval that
nature can be still. (5)

These written above are the first of the rules which

are written on the walls of the Hall of Learning. Those
that ask shall have. Those that desire to read shall
read. Those that desire to learn shall learn.

Peace be with you.

 9

II.

OUT of the silence that is peace a resonant voice shall

arise. And this voice will say: It is not well; thou hast
reaped, now thou must sow. And knowing this voice
to be the silence itself thou wilt obey.

Thou who art now a disciple, able to stand, able to

hear, able to see, able to speak; who hast conquered
desire and attained to self knowledge; who hast seen
thy soul in its bloom and recognized it, and heard the
voice of the silence, go thou to the Hall of Learning
and read what is written there for Thee. (6)

1. Stand aside in the coming battle, and though

thou fightest be not thou the warrior.

2. Look for the warrior and let him fight in Thee.

3. Take his orders for battle and obey them.

4. Obey him, not as though he were a general, but

as though he were thyself, and
 10

his spoken words were the utterance of thy secret

desires; for he is thyself, yet infinitely wiser and
stronger than thyself. Look for him, else in the fever
and hurry of the fight thou mayest pass him; and he
will not know thee unless thou knowest him. If thy
cry reach his listening ear then will he fight in thee
and fill the dull void within. And if this is so, then
canst thou go through the fight cool and unwearied,
standing aside and letting him battle for Thee. Then it
will be impossible for thee to strike one blow amiss.
But if thou look not for him, if thou pass him by, then
there is no safeguard for thee. Thy brain will reel, thy
heart grow uncertain, and in the dust of the battle-
field thy sight and senses will fail, and thou will not
know thy friends from thy enemies.

He is thyself, yet thou art but finite and liable to

error. He is eternal and is sure. He is eternal truth.
When once he has entered thee and become thy
warrior, he will never utterly desert thee; and at the
day of the great peace he will become one with thee.

5. Listen to the song of life. (7)

 11

6. Store in your memory the melody you hear.

7. Learn from it the lesson of harmony.

8. You can stand upright now, firm as a rock amid

the turmoil, obeying the warrior who is thyself and
thy king. Unconcerned in the battle save to do his
bidding, having no longer any care as to the result of
the battle, for one thing only is important, that the
warrior shall win, and you know he is incapable of
defeat – standing thus, cool and awakened, use the
hearing you have acquired by pain and by the
destruction of pain. Only fragments of the great song
come to your ears while yet you are but man. But if
you listen to it, remember it faithfully, so that none
which has reached you is lost, and endeavour to learn
from it the meaning of the mystery which surrounds
you. In time you will need no teacher. For as the
individual has voice, so has that in which the individual
exists. Life itself has speech and is never silent. And its
utterance is not, as you that are deaf may suppose, a
cry: it is a song. Learn from it that you are a part of the
 12

harmony; learn from it to obey the laws of the

harmony.

9. Regard earnestly all the life that surrounds you.

10. Learn to look intelligently into the hearts of men. (8)

11. Regard most earnestly your own heart.

12. For through your own heart comes the one

light which can illuminate life and make it clear to
your eyes.

Study the hearts of men, that you may know what

is that world in which you live and of which you will
to be a part. Regard the constantly changing and
moving life which surrounds you, for it is formed by
the hearts of men; and as you learn to understand
their constitution and meaning, you will by degrees
be able to read the larger word of life.

13. Speech comes only with knowledge. Attain to

knowledge and you will attain to speech. (9)

14. Having obtained the use of the inner

 13

senses, having conquered the desires of the outer

senses, having conquered the desires of the
individual soul, and having obtained knowledge,
prepare now, O disciple, to enter upon the way in
reality. The path is found: make yourself ready to
tread it.

15. Inquire of the earth, the air, and the water, of

the secrets they hold for you. The development of
your inner senses will enable you to do this.

16. Inquire of the Holy Ones of the earth of the

secrets they hold for you. The conquering of the
desires of the outer senses will give you the right to
do this.

17. Inquire of the inmost, the One, of its final secret

which it holds for you through the ages.

The great and difficult victory, the conquering of

the desires of the individual soul, is a work of ages;
therefore expect not to obtain its reward until ages of
experience have been accumulated. When the time of
learning this seventeenth rule is reached, man is on
the threshold of becoming more than man.
 14

18. The knowledge which is now yours is only

yours because your soul has become one with all
pure souls and with the inmost. It is a trust vested in
you by the most high. Betray it, misuse your
knowledge, or neglect it, and it is possible even now
for you to fall from the high estate you have attained.
Great ones fall back, even from the threshold, unable
to sustain the weight of their responsibility, unable to
pass on. Therefore look forward always with awe and
trembling to this moment, and be prepared for the
battle.

19. It is written that for him who is on the

threshold of divinity no law can be framed, no guide
can exist. Yet to enlighten the disciple, the final
struggle may be thus expressed:

Hold fast to that which has neither substance nor

existence.

20. Listen only to the voice which is soundless.

21. Look only on that which is invisible alike to the

inner and the outer sense.

Peace be with you.

 15

NOTES
_____________________

(1) AMBITION is the first curse: the great tempter of

the man who is rising above his fellows. It is the
simplest form of looking for reward. Men of
intelligence and power are led away from their higher
possibilities by it continually. Yet it is a necessary
teacher. Its results turn to dust and ashes in the
mouth; like death and estrangement it shows the man
at last that to work for self is to work for
disappointment. But though this first rule seems so
simple and easy, do not quickly pass it by. For these
vices of the ordinary man pass through a subtle
transformation and reappear with changed aspect in
the heart of the disciple. It is easy to say, I will not be
ambitious: it is not so easy to say, When the Master
reads my heart he will find it clean utterly. The pure
artist who works for the love of his work is
sometimes more firmly planted on the right road
than the occultist, who fancies he has removed his
interest from self, but who has
 16

in reality only enlarged the limits of experience and

desire, and transferred his interest to the things
which concern his larger span of life. The same
principle applies to the other two seemingly simple
rules. Linger over them, and do not let yourself be
easily deceived by your own heart. For now, at the
threshold, a mistake can be corrected. But carry it on
with you and it will grow and come to fruition, or else
you must suffer bitterly in its destruction. [↖]

(2) Do not fancy you can stand aside from the bad
man or the foolish man. They are yourself, though in a
less degree than your friend or your Master. But if
you allow the idea of separateness from any evil thing
or person to grow up within you, by so doing you
create Karma, which will bind you to that thing or
person till your soul recognizes that it cannot be
isolated. Remember that the sin and shame of the
world are your sin and shame; for you are a part of it;
your Karma is inextricably interwoven with the great
Karma. And before you can attain knowledge you
must have passed through all places, foul and clean
 17

alike. Therefore, remember that the soiled garment

you shrink from touching may have been yours
yesterday, may be yours tomorrow. And if you turn
with horror from it, when it is flung upon your
shoulders, it will cling the more closely to you. The
self-righteous man makes for himself a bed of mire.
Abstain because it is right to abstain, not that yourself
shall be kept clean. [↖]

(3) These four words seem, perhaps, too slight to

stand alone. The disciple may say, Should I study these
thoughts at all did I not seek out the way? Yet do not
pass on hastily. Pause and consider awhile. Is it the
way you desire, or is it that there is a dim perspective
in your visions of great heights to be scaled by
yourself, of a great future for you to compass? Be
warned. The way is to be sought for its own sake, not
with regard to your feet that shall tread it.

There is a correspondence between this rule and

the seventeenth of the second series. When after ages
of struggle and many victories the final battle is won,
the final secret demanded, then you are prepared for
a further path. When
 18

the final secret of this great lesson is told, in it is

opened the mystery of the new way—a path which
leads out of all human experience, and which is
utterly beyond human perception or imagination. At
each of these points it is needful to pause long and
consider well. At each of these points it is necessary
to be sure that the way is chosen for its own sake. The
way and the truth come first, then follows the life. [↖]

(4) Seek it by testing all experience, and remember

that when I say this I do not say, Yield to the
seductions of senses in order to know it. Before you
have become an occultist you may do this; but not
afterwards. When you have chosen and entered the
Path you cannot yield to these seductions without
shame. Yet you can experience them without horror;
can weigh, observe and test them, and wait with the
patience of confidence for the hour when they shall
affect you no longer. But do not condemn the man that
yields; stretch out your hand to him as a brother
pilgrim whose feet have become heavy with mire.
Remember, O disciple, that great though the gulf may be
 19

between the good man and the sinner, it is greater

between the good man and the man who has attained
knowledge; it is immeasurable between the good
man and the one on the threshold of divinity.
Therefore be wary lest too soon you fancy yourself a
thing apart from the mass. When you have found the
beginning of the way the star of your soul will show
its light; and by that light you will perceive how great
is the darkness in which it burns. Mind, heart, brain,
all are obscure and dark until the first great battle has
been won. Be not appalled and terrified by this sight;
keep your eyes fixed on the small light and it will
grow. But let the darkness within help you to
understand the helplessness of those who have seen
no light, whose souls are in profound gloom. Blame
them not ― shrink not from them, but try to lift a little
of the heavy Karma of the world; give your aid to the
few strong hands that hold back the powers of
darkness from obtaining complete victory. Then do
you enter into a partnership of joy, which brings
indeed terrible toil and profound sadness, but also a
great and ever-increasing delight. [↖]
 20

(5) The opening of the bloom is the glorious

moment when perception awakes: with it come
confidence, knowledge, certainty. The pause of the
soul is the moment of wonder, and the next moment
of satisfaction, that is the silence.

Know, O disciple, that those who have passed

through the silence and felt its peace and retained its
strength, they long that you shall pass through it also.
Therefore, in the Hall of Learning, when he is capable
of entering there, the disciple will always find his
Master.

Those that ask shall have. But though the ordinary

man ask perpetually, his voice is not heard. For he
asks with his mind only; and the voice of the mind is
only heard on that plane on which the mind acts.
Therefore, not until the first twenty-one rules are
passed do I say those that ask shall have.

To read, in the occult senses, is to read with the

eyes of the spirit. To ask is to feel the hunger within –
the yearning of spiritual aspiration. To be able to read
means having obtained the power in a small degree of
gratifying that hunger. When the disciple is
 21

ready to learn, then he is accepted, acknowledged,

recognised. It must be so, for he has lit his lamp, and
it cannot be hidden. But to learn is impossible until
the first great battle has been won. The mind may
recognize truth, but the spirit cannot receive it. Once
having passed through the storm and attained the
peace, it is then always possible to learn, even
thought the disciple waver, hesitate and turn aside.
The voice of the silence remains within him. And
though he leave the path utterly, yet one day it will
resound, and rend him asunder and separate his
passions from his divine possibilities. Then with pain
and desperate cries from the deserted lower self he
will return.

Therefore I say, Peace be with you. My peace I give

unto you can only be said by the Master to the
beloved disciples who are as Himself. There are some
even among those who are ignorant of the Eastern
wisdom to whom this can be said, and to whom it can
daily be said with more completeness.

Regard the three truths. They are equal. [↖]

(6) To be able to stand is to have confidence;

 22

to be able to hear is to have opened the doors of the

soul; to be able to see is to have attained perception;
to be able to speak is to have attained the power of
helping others; to have conquered desire is to have
learned how to use and control the self; to have
attained to self-knowledge is to have retreated to the
inner fortress from whence the personal man can be
viewed with impartiality; to have seen thy soul in its
bloom is to have obtained a momentary glimpse in
thyself of the transfiguration which shall eventually
make thee more than man; to recognize is to achieve
the great task of gazing upon the blazing light without
dropping the eyes and not falling back in terror, as
though before some ghastly phantom. This happens
to some, and so when the victory is all but won it is
lost; to hear the voice of the silence is to understand
that from within comes the only true guidance; to go
to the Hall of Learning is to enter the state in which
learning becomes possible. Then will many words be
written there for thee, and written in fiery letters for
thee easily to read. For when the disciple is ready the
Master is ready also. [↖]
 23

(7)Look for it and listen to it, first in your own heart.

At first you may say, It is not there; when I search I
find only discord. Look deeper. If again you are
disappointed, pause and look deeper again. There is a
natural melody, an obscure fount in every human
heart. It may be hidden over and utterly concealed and
silenced—but it is there. At the very base of your
nature you will find faith, hope, and love. He that
chooses evil refuses to look within himself, shuts his
ears to the melody of his heart, as he blinds his eyes to
the light of his soul. He does this because he finds it
easier to live in desires. But underneath all life is the
strong current that cannot be checked; the great
waters are there in reality. Find them, and you will
perceive that none, not the most wretched of
creatures, but is a part of it, however he blind himself
to the fact and build up for himself a phantasmal outer
form of horror. In that sense it is that I say to you—All
those beings among whom you struggle on are
fragments of the Divine. And so deceptive is the illusion
in which you live, that it is hard to guess where you will
 24

first detect the sweet voice in the hearts of others.

But know that it is certainly within yourself. Look for
it there, and once having heard it, you will more
readily recognize it around you. [↖]

(8)From an absolutely impersonal point of view,

otherwise your sight is coloured. Therefore
impersonality must first be understood.

Intelligence is impartial: no man is your enemy; no

man is your friend. All alike are your teachers. Your
enemy becomes a mystery that must be solved, even
though it takes ages: for man must be understood.
Your friend becomes a part of yourself, an extension
of yourself, a riddle hard to read. Only one thing is
more difficult to know—your own heart. Not until the
bonds of personality are loosed can that profound
mystery of self begin to be seen. Not till you stand
aside from it will it in any way reveal itself to your
understanding. Then, and not till then, can you grasp
and guide it. Then, and not till then, can you use all its
powers, and devote them to a worthy service. [↖]
 25

(9) It is impossible to help others till you have

obtained some certainty of your own. When you have
learned the first twenty-one rules and have entered
the Hall of Learning with your powers developed and
sense unchained, then you will find there is a fount
within you from which speech will arise. [↖]

After the thirteenth rule I can add no words to

what is already written. My peace I give unto you.

These rules are written only for those to whom I

give my peace; those who can read what I have
written with the inner as well as the outer sense.
 26

[ blank page ]
 27

COMMENTS ON “LIGHT ON THE PATH”

By THE AUTHOR

[Taken from H. P. Blavatsky's Lucifer, Vol. I:

pages 8-14 September 1887,
pages 90-96 October 1887,
pages 170-172 November 1887,
pages 379-383 January 1888.]
 28

[ blank page ]
 29

COMMENTS
I.

“BEFORE THE EYES CAN SEE THEY MUST BE INCAPABLE OF

TEARS.”

It should be very clearly remembered by all readers

of this volume that it is a book which may appear to
have some little philosophy in it, but very little sense,
to those who believe it to be written in ordinary
English. To the many, who read in this manner it will
be—not caviare so much as olives strong of their salt.
Be warned and read but a little in this way.

There is another way of reading, which is, indeed,

the only one of any use with many authors. It is
reading, not between the lines but within the words. In
fact, it is deciphering a profound cipher. All alchemical
works are written in the cipher of which I speak; it has
been used by the great philosophers and poets of all
time. It is used
 30

systematically by the adepts in life and knowledge,

who, seemingly giving out their deepest wisdom, hide
in the very words which frame it its actual mystery.
They cannot do more. There is a law of nature which
insists that a man shall read these mysteries for
himself. By no other method can he obtain them. A
man who desires to live must eat his food himself:
this is the simple law of Nature—which applies also
to the higher life. A man who would live and act in it
cannot be fed like a babe with a spoon; he must eat
for himself.

I propose to put into new and sometimes plainer

language parts of “Light on the Path”; but whether
this effort of mine will really be any interpretation I
cannot say. To a deaf and dumb man, a truth is made
no more intelligible if, in order to make it so, some
misguided linguist translates the words in which it is
couched into every living or dead language, and
shouts these different phrases in his ear. But for
those who are not deaf and dumb one language is
generally easier than the rest; and it is to such as
these I address myself.
 31

The very first aphorisms of “Light on the Path,”

included under Number I, have, I know well, remained
sealed as to their inner meaning to many who have
otherwise followed the purpose of the book.

There are four proven and certain truths with

regard to the entrance to occultism. The Gates of Gold
bar that threshold; yet there are some who pass those
Gates and discover the sublime and illimitable
beyond. In the far spaces of Time all will pass those
gates. But I am one who wish that Time, the great
deluder, were not so over-masterful. To those who
know and love him I have no word to say; but to the
others—and there are not so very few as some may
fancy—to whom the passage of Time is as the stroke
of a sledge-hammer, and the sense of Space like the
bars of an iron cage, I will translate and retranslate,
until they understand fully.

The four truths written on the first page of “Light

on the Path,” refer to the trial initiation of the would-
be Occultist. Until he has passed it, he cannot even
reach to the latch of the gate which admits to
knowledge. Knowledge is man's greatest inheritance;
why, then, should
 32

he not attempt to reach it by every possible road? The

laboratory is not the only ground for experiment;
science, we must remember, is derived from sciens,
present participle of scire, “to know”—its origin is
similar to that of the word “discern,” “to ken.” Science
does not therefore deal only with matter, no, not even
its subtlest and obscurest forms. Such an idea is born
merely of the idle spirit of the age. Science is a word
which covers all forms of knowledge. It is exceedingly
interesting to hear what chemists discover, and to see
them finding their way through the densities of
matter to its finer forms; but there are other kinds of
knowledge than this, and it is not everyone who
restricts his (strictly scientific) desire for knowledge
to experiments which are capable of being tested by
the physical senses.

Everyone who is not a dullard, or a man stupefied

by some predominant vice, has guessed, or even
perhaps discovered with some certainty, that there
are subtle senses lying within the physical senses;
there is nothing at all extraordinary in this; if we took
the trouble to call Nature into the witness box we
should find that everything which is perceptible to the
 33

ordinary sight, has something even more important

than itself hidden within it; the microscope has
opened a world to us, but within those encasements
which the microscope reveals, lies a mystery which
no machinery can probe.

The whole world is animated and lit, down to its

most material shapes, by a world within it. This inner
world is called Astral by some people, and it is as good
a word as any other, though it merely means starry;
but the stars, as Locke pointed out, are luminous
bodies which give light of themselves. This quality is
characteristic of the light which lies within matter; for
those who see it, need no lamp to see it by. The word
star, moreover, is derived from the Anglo-Saxon “stir-
an,” to steer, to stir, to move, and undeniably it is the
inner life which is master of the outer, just as a man's
brain guides the movements of his lips. So that
although Astral is no very excellent word in itself, I am
content to use it for my present purpose.

The whole of “Light on the Path” is written in an

astral cipher and can therefore only be deciphered by
one who reads astrally. And its
 34

teaching is chiefly directed towards the cultivation

and development of the astral life. Until the first step
has been taken in this development, the swift
knowledge, which is called intuition with certainty, is
impossible to man. And this positive and certain
intuition is the only form of knowledge which enables
a man to work rapidly or reach his true and high
estate, within the limit of his conscious effort. To
obtain knowledge by experiment is too tedious a
method for those who aspire to accomplish real
work; he who gets it by certain intuition, lays hands
on its various forms with supreme rapidity, by fierce
effort of will; as a determined workman grasps his
tools, indifferent to their weight or any other
difficulty which may stand in his way. He does not
stay for each to be tested—he uses such as he sees
are fittest.

All the rules contained in “Light on the Path,” are

written for all disciples, but only for disciples—those
who “take knowledge.” To none else but the student
in this school are its laws of any use or interest.

To all who are interested seriously in Occultism, I

say first—take knowledge. To him
 35

who hath shall be given. It is useless to wait for it. The

womb of Time will close before you, and in later days
you will remain unborn, without power. I therefore
say to those who have hunger or thirst for
knowledge, attend to these Rules.

They are none of my handicraft or invention. They

are merely the phrasing of laws in supernature, the
putting into words truths as absolute in their own
sphere, as those laws which govern the conduct of the
earth and its atmosphere.

The senses spoken of in these four statements are

the astral, or inner senses.

No man desires to see that light which illumines the

spaceless soul until pain and sorrow and despair have
driven him away from the life of ordinary humanity.
First he wears out pleasure, then he wears out pain—
till, at last, his eyes become incapable of tears.

This is a truism, although I know perfectly well that

it will meet with a vehement denial from many who
are in sympathy with thoughts which spring from the
inner life. To see with the astral sense of sight is a form
of activity which it is difficult for us to understand
 36

immediately. The scientist knows very well what a

miracle is achieved by each child that is born into the
world, when it first conquers its eyesight and
compels it to obey its brain. An equal miracle is
performed with each sense certainly, but this
ordering of sight is perhaps the most stupendous
effort. Yet the child does it almost unconsciously, by
force of the powerful heredity of habit. No one now is
aware that he has ever done it at all; just as we cannot
recollect the individual movements which enabled us
to walk up a hill a year ago. This arises from the fact
that we move and live and have our being in matter.
Our knowledge of it has become intuitive.

With our astral life it is very much otherwise. For

long ages past, man has paid very little attention to
it—so little, that he has practically lost the use of his
senses. It is true, that in every civilization the star
arises and man confesses, with more or less of folly
and confusion, that he knows himself to be. But most
often he denies it, and in being a materialist becomes
that strange thing, a being which cannot see its own
light, a thing of life which will not live, an astral
animal which has
 37

eyes, and ears, and speech, and power, yet will use
none of these gifts. This is the case, and the habit of
ignorance has become so confirmed, that now none
will see with the inner vision till agony has made the
physical eyes not only unseeing, but without tears—
the moisture of life. To be incapable of tears is to have
faced and conquered the simple human nature, and to
have attained an equilibrium which cannot be shaken
by personal emotions. It does not imply any hardness
of heart, or any indifference. It does not imply the
exhaustion of sorrow, when the suffering soul seems
powerless to suffer acutely any longer; it does not
mean the deadness of old age, when emotion is
becoming dull because the strings which vibrate to it
are wearing out. None of these conditions are fit for a
disciple, and if any one of them exist in him, it must
be overcome before the path can be entered upon.
Hardness of heart belongs to the selfish man, the
egotist, to whom the Gate is for ever closed.
Indifference belongs to the fool and the false
philosopher; those whose lukewarmness makes them
mere puppets, not strong enough to face the realities
of existence. When pain or sorrow
 38

has worn out the keenness of suffering, the result is a

lethargy not unlike that which accompanies old age,
as it is usually experienced by men and women. Such a
condition makes the entrance to the path impossible,
because the first step is one of difficulty and needs a
strong man full of psychic and physical vigour, to
attempt it.

It is a truth, that, as Edgar Allen Poe said, the eyes

are the windows for the soul, the windows of that
haunted palace in which it dwells. This is the very
nearest interpretation into ordinary language of the
meaning of the text. If grief, dismay, disappointment
or pleasure, can shake the soul so that it loses its
fixed hold on the calm spirit which inspires it, and the
moisture of life breaks forth, drowning knowledge in
sensation, then all is blurred, the windows are
darkened, the light is useless. This is as literal a fact as
that if a man, at the edge of a precipice, loses his nerve
through some sudden emotion he will certainly fall.
The poise of the body, the balance, must be preserved,
not only in dangerous places, but even on the level
ground, and with all the assistance Nature gives us by
the law of gravitation. So it is with the soul, it
 39

is the link between the outer body and the starry

spirit beyond; the divine spark dwells in the still
place where no convulsion of Nature can shake the
air; this is so always. But the soul may lose its hold on
that, its knowledge of it, even though these two are
part of one whole; and it is by emotion, by sensation,
that this hold is loosed. To suffer either pleasure or
pain, causes a vivid vibration which is, to the
consciousness of man, life. Now this sensibility does
not lessen when the disciple enters upon his training;
it increases. It is the first test of his strength; he must
suffer, must enjoy or endure, more keenly than other
men, while yet he has taken on him a duty which does
not exist for other men, that of not allowing his
suffering to shake him from his fixed purpose. He has,
in fact, at the first step to take himself steadily in
hand and put the bit into his own mouth; no one else
can do it for him.

The first four aphorisms of “Light on the Path”

refer entirely to astral development. This
development must be accomplished to a certain
extent—that is to say, it must be fully
 40

entered upon—before the remainder of the book is

really intelligible except to the intellect; in fact, before
it can be read as a practical, not a metaphysical
treatise.

In one of the great mystic Brotherhoods, there are

four ceremonies, that take place early in the year,
which practically illustrate and elucidate these
aphorisms. They are ceremonies in which only
novices take part, for they are simply services of the
threshold. But it will show how serious a thing it is to
become a disciple, when it is understood that these
are all ceremonies of sacrifice. The first one is this of
which I have been speaking. The keenest enjoyment,
the bitterest pain, the anguish of loss and despair, are
brought to bear on the trembling soul, which has not
yet found light in the darkness, which is helpless as a
blind man is, and until these shocks can be endured
without loss of equilibrium the astral senses must
remain sealed. This is the merciful law. The “medium,”
or “spiritualist” who rushes into the psychic world
without preparation, is a lawbreaker, a breaker of the
laws of supernature. Those who break Nature's laws
 41

lose their physical health; those who break the laws

of the inner life, lose their psychic health. “Mediums”
become mad, suicides, miserable creatures devoid of
moral sense; and often end as unbelievers, doubters
even of that which their own eyes have seen. The
disciple is compelled to become his own master
before he adventures on this perilous path, and
attempts to face those beings who live and work in
the astral world, and whom we call masters, because
of their great knowledge and their ability to control
not only themselves but the forces around them.

The condition of the soul when it lives for the life of

sensation as distinguished from that of knowledge, is
vibratory or oscillating, as distinguished from fixed.
That is the nearest literal representation of the fact;
but it is only literal to the intellect, not to the intuition.
For this part of man's consciousness a different
vocabulary is needed. The idea of “fixed” might
perhaps be transposed into that of “at home.” In
sensation no permanent home can be found, because
change is the law of this vibratory existence. That fact is
the first one which must be learned by the disciple. It is
 42

useless to pause and weep for a scene in a kaleidoscope

which has passed.

It is a very well-know fact, one with which Bulwer

Lytton dealt with great power, that an intolerable
sadness is the very first experience of the neophyte in
Occultism. A sense of blankness falls upon him which
makes the world a waste, and life a vain exertion.
This follows his first serious contemplation of the
abstract. In gazing, or even in attempting to gaze, on
the ineffable mystery of his own higher nature, he
himself causes the initial trial to fall on him. The
oscillation between pleasure and pain ceases for—
perhaps an instant of time; but that is enough to have
cut him loose from his fast moorings in the world of
sensation. He has experienced, however briefly, the
greater life; and he goes on with ordinary existence
weighted by a sense of unreality, of blank, of horrid
negation. This was the nightmare which visited
Bulwer Lytton's neophyte in “Zanoni”; and even
Zanoni himself, who had learned great truths, and
been intrusted with great powers, had not actually
passed the threshold where fear and hope, despair and
 43

joy, seem at one moment absolute realities, at the

next mere forms of fancy.

This initial trial is often brought on us by life itself.

For life, is after all, the great teacher. We return to
study it, after we have acquired power over it, just as
the master in chemistry learns more in the laboratory
than his pupil does. There are persons so near the
door of knowledge that life itself prepares them for it,
and no individual hand has to invoke the hideous
guardian of the entrance. These must naturally be
keen and powerful organizations, capable of the most
vivid pleasure; then pain comes and fills its great
duty. The most intense forms of suffering fall on such
a nature, till at last it arouses from its stupor of
consciousness, and by the force of its internal vitality
steps over the threshold into a place of peace. Then
the vibration of life loses its power of tyranny. The
sensitive nature must suffer still; but the soul has
freed itself and stands aloof, guiding the life towards
its greatness. Those who are the subjects of Time, and
go slowly through all his spaces, live on through a
long-drawn series of sensations, and suffer a constant
mingling of pleasure and of
 44

pain. They do not dare to take the snake of self in a

steady grasp and conquer it, so becoming divine; but
prefer to go on fretting through divers experiences,
suffering blows from the opposing forces.

When one of these subjects of Time decides to

enter on the path of Occultism, it is this which is his
first task. If life has not taught it to him, if he is not
strong enough to teach himself, and if he has power
enough to demand the help of a Master, then this
fearful trial, depicted in “Zanoni,” is put upon him.
The oscillation in which he lives, is for an instant
stilled; and he has to survive the shock of facing what
seems to him at first sight as the abyss of
nothingness. Not till he has learned to dwell in this
abyss, and has found its peace, is it possible for his
eyes to have become incapable of tears.

The difficulty of writing intelligibly on these subjects

is so great that I beg of those who have found any
interest in this article, and are yet left with perplexities
and doubts, to address me in the correspondence
column of this magazine. I ask this because thoughtful
questions are as great an assistance to the general
reader as the answers to them.
 45

II.

“BEFORE THE EAR CAN HEAR, IT MUST HAVE LOST ITS

SENSITIVENESS.”

The first four rules of “Light on the Path” are,

undoubtedly, curious though the statement may
seem, the most important in the whole book, save one
only. Why they are so important is that they contain
the vital law, the very creative essence of the astral
man. And it is only in the astral (or self-illuminated)
consciousness that the rules which follow them have
any living meaning. Once attain to the use of the
astral senses and it becomes a matter of course that
one commences to use them; and the later rules are
but guidance in their use. When I speak like this I
mean, naturally, that the first four rules are the ones
which are of importance and interest to those who
read them in print upon a page. When they are
engraved on the man's heart and on his life,
unmistakably then the other rules become not merely
interesting, or extraordinary
 46

metaphysical statements, but actual facts in life which

have to be grasped and experienced.

The four rules stand written in the great chamber

of every actual lodge of a living Brotherhood.
Whether the man is about to sell his soul to the devil,
like Faust; whether he is to be worsted in the battle,
like Hamlet; or whether he is to pass on within the
precincts; in any case these words are for him. The
man can choose between virtue and vice, but not until
he is a man; a babe or a wild animal cannot so choose.
Thus with the disciple, he must first become a
disciple before he can even see the paths to choose
between. This effort of creating himself as a disciple,
the rebirth, he must do for himself without any
teacher. Until the four rules are learned no teacher
can be of any use to him; and that is why “the Masters”
are referred to in the way they are. No real masters,
whether adepts in power, in love, or in blackness, can
affect a man till these four rules are passed.

Tears as I have said, may be called the moisture of

life. The soul must have laid aside the emotions of
humanity, must have secured a balance which cannot
be shaken by
 47

misfortune, before its eyes can open upon the

superhuman world.

The voice of the Masters is always in the world;

but only those hear it whose ears are no longer
receptive of the sounds which affect the personal life.
Laughter no longer lightens the heart, anger may no
longer enrage it, tender words bring it no balm. For
that within, to which the ears are as an outer
gateway, is an unshaken place of peace in itself which
no person can disturb.

As the eyes are the windows of the soul, so are the

ears its gateways or doors. Through them comes
knowledge of the confusion of the world. The great
ones who have conquered life, who have become
more than disciples, stand at peace and undisturbed
amid the vibration and kaleidoscopic movement of
humanity. They hold within themselves a certain
knowledge, as well as a perfect peace; and thus they
are not roused or excited by the partial and
erroneous fragments of information which are
brought to their ears by the changing voices of those
around them. When I speak of knowledge, I mean
intuitive knowledge.
 48

This certain information can never be obtained by

hard work, or by experiment; for these methods are
only applicable to matter, and matter is in itself a
perfectly uncertain substance, continually affected
by change. The most absolute and universal laws of
natural and physical life, as understood by the
scientist, will pass away when the life of this
universe has passed away, and only its soul is left in
the silence. What then will be the value of the
knowledge of its laws acquired by industry and
observation? I pray that no reader or critic will
imagine that by what I have said I intend to
depreciate or disparage acquired knowledge, or the
work of scientists. On the contrary, I hold that
scientific men are the pioneers of modern thought.
The days of literature and of art, when poets and
sculptors saw the divine light, and put it into their
own great language ― these days lie buried in the
long past with the ante-Phidian sculptors and the
pre-Homeric poets. The mysteries no longer rule the
world of thought and beauty; human life is the
governing power, not that which lies beyond it. But
the scientific workers are
 49

progressing, not so much by their own will as by

sheer force of circumstances, towards the far line
which divides things interpretable from things
uninterpretable. Every fresh discovery drives them a
step onward. Therefore do I very highly esteem the
knowledge obtained by work and experiment.

But intuitive knowledge is an entirely different

thing. It is not acquired in any way, but is, so to speak,
a faculty of the soul; not the animal soul, that which
becomes a ghost after death, when lust or liking or the
memory of ill-deeds holds it to the neighbourhood of
human beings, but the divine soul which animates all
the external forms of the individualized being.

This is, of course, a faculty which indwells in that

soul, which is inherent. The would-be disciple has to
arouse himself to the consciousness of it by a fierce
and resolute and indomitable effort of will. I use the
word indomitable for a special reason. Only he who is
untameable, who cannot be dominated, who knows he
has to play the lord over men, over facts, over all
things save his own divinity, can arouse this faculty.
“With faith all things are possible.” The sceptical laugh
at faith and pride
 50

themselves on its absence from their own minds. The

truth is that faith is a great engine, an enormous
power, which in fact can accomplish all things. For it
is the covenant or engagement between man's divine
part and his lesser self.

The use of this engine is quite necessary in order to

obtain intuitive knowledge; for unless a man believes
such knowledge exists within himself how can he
claim and use it?

Without it he is more helpless than any driftwood

or wreckage on the great tides of the ocean. They are
cast hither and thither indeed; so may a man be by
the chances of fortune. But such adventures are
purely external and of very small account. A slave
may be dragged through the streets in chains, and yet
retain the quiet soul of a philosopher, as was well seen
in the person of Epictetus. A man may have every
worldly prize in his possession, and stand absolute
master of his personal fate, to all appearance, and yet
he knows no peace, no certainty, because he is shaken
within himself by every tide of thought that he touches
on. And these changing tides do not merely sweep the
man bodily hither and thither like driftwood on the
 51

water; that would be nothing. They enter into the

gateways of his soul, and wash over that soul, and
make it blind and blank and void of all permanent
intelligence, so that passing impressions affect it.

To make my meaning plainer I will use an

illustration. Take an author at his writing, a painter at
his canvas, a composer listening to the melodies that
dawn upon his glad imagination; let any one of these
workers pass his daily hours by a wide window
looking on a busy street. The power of the animating
life blinds sight and hearing alike, and the great traffic
of the city goes by like nothing but a passing pageant.
But a man whose mind is empty, whose day is
objectless, sitting at that same window, notes the
passersby and remembers the faces that chance to
please or interest him. So it is with the mind in its
relation to eternal truth. If it no longer transmits its
fluctuations, its partial knowledge, its unreliable
information to the soul, then in the inner place of
peace, already found when the first rule has been
learned—in that inner place there leaps into flame
the light of actual knowledge. Then the ears begin to
 52

hear. Very dimly, very faintly at first. And, indeed, so

faint and tender are these first indications of the
commencement of true actual life, that they are
sometimes pushed aside as mere fancies, mere
imaginings.

But before these are capable of becoming more

than mere imaginings, the abyss of nothingness has
to be faced in another form. The utter silence which
can only come by closing the ears to all transitory
sounds comes as a more appalling horror than even
the formless emptiness of space. Our only mental
conception of blank space is, I think, when reduced to
its barest element of thought, that of black darkness.
This is a great physical terror to most persons, and
when regarded as an eternal and unchangeable fact,
must mean to the mind the idea of annihilation rather
than anything else. But it is the obliteration of one
sense only; and the sound of a voice may come and
bring comfort even in the profoundest darkness. The
disciple, having found his way into this blackness,
which is the fearful abyss, must then so shut the gates
of his soul that no comforter can enter there nor any
 53

enemy. And it is in making this second effort that the

fact of pain and pleasure being but one sensation
becomes recognizable by those who have before been
unable to perceive it. For when the solitude of silence
is reached the soul hungers so fiercely and
passionately for some sensation on which to rest, that
a painful one would be as keenly welcomed as a
pleasant one. When this consciousness is reached the
courageous man by seizing and retaining it, may
destroy the “sensitiveness” at once. When the ear no
longer discriminates between that which is pleasant
or that which is painful, it will no longer be affected
by the voices of others. And then it is safe and
possible to open the doors of the soul.

“Sight” is the first effort, and the easiest, because it

is accomplished partly by an intellectual effort. The
intellect can conquer the heart, as is well known in
ordinary life. Therefore, this preliminary step still lies
within the dominion of matter. But the second step
allows of no such assistance, nor of any material aid
whatever. Of course, I mean by material aid the action
of the brain, or emotion, or human soul. In compelling
 54

the ears to listen only to the eternal silence, the being

we call man becomes something which is no longer
man. A very superficial survey of the thousand and
one influences which are brought to bear on us by
others will show that this must be so. A disciple will
fulfil all the duties of his manhood; but he will fulfil
them according to his own sense of right, and not
according to that of any person or body of persons.
This is a very evident result of following the creed of
knowledge instead of any of the blind creeds.

To obtain the pure silence necessary for the

disciple, the heart and emotions, the brain and its
intellectualisms, have to be put aside. Both are but
mechanisms, which will perish with the span of man's
life. It is the essence beyond, that which is the motive
power, and makes man live, that is now compelled to
rouse itself and act. Now is the greatest hour of
danger. In the first trial men go mad with fear; of this
first trial Bulwer Lytton wrote. No novelist has
followed to the second trial, though some of the poets
have. Its subtlety and great danger lies in the fact that
in the measure of a man's strength is the measure of
his chance of passing beyond
 55

it or coping with it at all. If he has power enough to

awaken that unaccustomed part of himself, the
supreme essence, then has he power to lift the gates
of gold, then is he the true alchemist, in possession of
the elixir of life.

It is at this point of experience that the occultist

becomes separated from all other men and enters on
to a life which is his own; on to the path of individual
accomplishment instead of mere obedience to the
genii which rule our earth. This raising of himself into
an individual power does in reality identify him with
the nobler forces of life and make him one with them.
For they stand beyond the powers of this earth and
the laws of this universe. Here lies man's only hope of
success in the great effort; to leap right away from his
present standpoint to his next, and at once become an
intrinsic part of the divine power as he has been an
intrinsic part of the intellectual power, of the great
nature to which he belongs. He stands always in
advance of himself, if such a contradiction can be
understood. It is the men who adhere to this position,
who believe in their innate power of progress, and
that of the whole race, who are
 56

the Elders Brothers, the pioneers. Each man has to

accomplish the great leap for himself and without aid;
yet it is something of a staff to lean on to know that
others have gone on that road. It is possible that they
have been lost in the abyss; no matter, they have had
the courage to enter it. Why I say that it is possible
they have been lost in the abyss is because of this fact,
that one who has passed through is unrecognizable
until the other and altogether new condition is
attained by both. It is unnecessary to enter upon the
subject of what that condition is at present. I only say
this, that in the early state in which man is entering
upon the silence he loses knowledge of his friends, of
his lovers, of all who have been near and dear to him;
and also loses sight of his Teachers and of those who
have preceded him on his way. I explain this because
scarce one passes through without bitter complaint.
Could but the mind grasp beforehand that the silence
must be complete, surely this complaint need not
arise as a hindrance on the path. Your teacher, or your
predecessor may hold your hand in his, and give you
the utmost sympathy the human heart is capable of. But
 57

when the silence and the darkness comes, you lose all
knowledge of him; you are alone and he cannot help
you, not because his power is gone, but because you
have invoked your great enemy.

By your great enemy, I mean yourself. If you have

the power to face your own soul in the darkness and
silence, you will have conquered the physical or
animal self which dwells in sensation only.

This statement, I feel, will appear involved; but in

reality it is quite simple. Man, when he has reached
his fruition, and civilization is at its height, stands
between two fires. Could he but claim his great
inheritance, the encumbrance of the mere animal life
would fall away from him without difficulty. But he
does not do this, and so the races of men flower and
then droop and die and decay off the face of the earth,
however splendid the bloom may have been. And it is
left to the individual to make this great effort; to
refuse to be terrified by his greater nature, to refuse
to be drawn back by his lesser or more material self.
Every individual who accomplishes this is a redeemer
of the race. He may not blazon forth his deeds,
 58

he may dwell in secret and silence; but it is a fact that

he forms a link between man and his divine part;
between the known and the unknown; between the
stir of the marketplace and the stillness of the snow-
capped Himalayas. He has not to go about among men
in order to form this link; in the astral he is that link,
and this fact makes him a being of another order from
the rest of mankind. Even so early on the road
towards knowledge, when he has but taken the
second step, he finds his footing more certain, and
becomes conscious that he is a recognized part of a
whole.

This is one of the contradictions in life which occur

so constantly that they afford fuel to the fiction
writer. The Occultist finds them become much more
marked as he endeavours to live the life he has
chosen. As he retreats within himself and becomes
self-dependent, he finds himself more definitely
becoming part of a great tide of definite thought and
feeling. When he has learned the first lesson,
conquered the hunger of the heart, and refused to live
on the love of others, he finds himself more capable of
 59

inspiring love. As he flings life away it comes to him

in a new form and with a new meaning. The world
has always been a place with many contradictions in
it, to the man; when he becomes a disciple he finds
life is describable as a series of paradoxes. This is a
fact in Nature, and the reasons for it is intelligible
enough. Man's soul “dwells like a star apart,” even
that of the vilest among us; while his consciousness is
under the law of vibratory and sensuous life. This
alone is enough to cause those complications of
character which are the material for the novelist;
every man is a mystery, to friend and enemy alike,
and to himself. His motives are often undiscoverable,
and he cannot probe to them or know why he does
this or that. The disciple's effort is that of awaking
consciousness in this starry part of himself, where his
power and divinity lie sleeping. As this consciousness
becomes awakened, the contradictions in the man
himself become more marked than ever; and so do
the paradoxes which he lives through. For, of course
man creates his own life; and “adventures are to the
adventurous” is one of
 60

those wise proverbs which are drawn from actual

fact, and cover the whole area of human experience.

Pressure on the divine part of man re-acts upon the

animal part. As the silent soul awakes it makes the
ordinary life of the man more purposeful, more vital,
more real and responsible. To keep to the two instances
already mentioned, the Occultist who has withdrawn
into his own citadel has found his strength;
immediately he becomes aware of the demands of duty
upon him. He does not obtain his strength by his own
right, but because he is a part of the whole; and as soon
as he is safe from the vibration of life and can stand
unshaken, the outer world cries out to him to come and
labour in it. So with the heart. When it no longer wishes
to take, it is called upon to give abundantly.

“Light on the Path” has been called a book of

paradoxes, and very justly; what else could it be, when it
deals with the actual personal experience of the disciple?

To have acquired the astral senses of sight and

hearing; or, in other words to have attained
perception and opened the doors of
 61

the soul, are gigantic tasks, and may take the sacrifice
of many successive incarnations. And yet, when the
will has reached its strength, the whole miracle may
be worked in a second of time. Then is the disciple
the servant of Time no longer.

These two first steps are negative; that is to say

they imply retreat from a present condition of things
rather than advance towards another. The two next
are active, implying the advance into another state of
being.
 62

III.
THE DEMAND OF THE NEOPHYTE

“BEFORE THE VOICE CAN SPEAK IN THE PRESENCE OF THE

MASTERS.”

Speech is the power of communication; the moment

of entrance into active life is marked by its attainment.

And now, before I go any further, let me explain a

little the way in which the rules written down in
“Light on the Path” are arranged. The first seven of
those which are numbered are subdivisions of the
two first unnumbered rules, those with which I have
dealt in the two preceding papers. The numbered
rules were simply an effort of mine to make the
unnumbered ones more intelligible. “Eight” to
“fifteen” of these numbered rules belong to this
unnumbered rule which is now my text.

As I have said, these rules are written for all

disciples, but for none else; they are not of
 63

interest to any other persons. Therefore I trust no

one else will trouble to read these papers any further.
The first two rules, which include the whole of that
part of the effort which necessitates the use of the
surgeon's knife, I will enlarge upon further if I am
asked to do so. But the disciple is expected to deal
with the snake, his lower self, unaided; to suppress
his human passions and emotions by the force of his
own will. He can only demand assistance of a Master
when this is accomplished, or at all events, partially
so. Otherwise the gates and windows of his soul are
blurred, and blinded, and darkened, and no
knowledge can come to him. I am not, in these pages,
purposing to tell a man how to deal with his own
soul; I am simply giving, to the disciple, knowledge.
That I am not writing, even now, so that all who run
may read, is owing to the fact that supernature
prevents this by its own immutable laws.

The four rules which I have written down for those

in the West who wish to study them, are as I have
said, written in the ante-chamber of every living
Brotherhood; I may add more, in the antechamber of
every living or dead Brotherhood, or Order yet to be
formed. When
 64

I speak of a Brotherhood or an Order, I do not mean

an arbitrary constitution made by scholiasts and
intellectualists; I mean an actual fact in supernature,
a stage of development towards the absolute God or
Good. During this development the disciple
encounters harmony, pure knowledge, pure truth, in
different degrees and, as he enters these degrees, he
finds himself becoming part of what might be roughly
described as a layer of human consciousness. He
encounters his equals, men of his own selfless
character, and with them his association becomes
permanent and indissoluble, because founded on a
vital likeness of nature. To them he becomes pledged
by such vows as need no utterance or framework in
ordinary words. This is one aspect of what I mean by
a Brotherhood.

If the first rules are conquered the disciple finds

himself standing at the threshold. Then if his will is
sufficiently resolute his power of speech comes; a
twofold power. For, as he advances now, he finds
himself entering into a state of blossoming, where every
bud that opens throws out its several rays or petals. If
he is to exercise his new gift, he must use it in its two-fold
 65

character. He finds in himself the power to speak in

the presence of the Masters; in other words, he has
the right to demand contact with the divinest element
of that state of consciousness into which he has
entered. But he finds himself compelled, by the
nature of his position, to act in two ways at the same
time. He cannot send his voice up to the heights
where sit the gods till he has penetrated to the deep
places where their light shines not at all. He has come
within the grip of an iron law. If he demands to
become a neophyte, he at once becomes a servant.
Yet his service is sublime, if only from the character
of those who share it. For the masters are also
servants; they serve and claim their reward
afterwards. Part of their service is to let their
knowledge touch him; his first act of service is to give
some of that knowledge to those who are not yet fit to
stand where he stands. This is no arbitrary decision,
made by any master or teacher or any such person,
however divine. It is a law of that life which the
disciple has entered upon.

Therefore was it written in the inner doorway of

the Lodges of the old Egyptian
 66

Brotherhood, “The labourer is worthy of his hire.”

“Ask and ye shall have,” sounds like something too

easy and simple to be credible. But the disciple
cannot “ask” in the mystic sense in which the word is
used in this scripture, until he has attained the power
of helping others.

Why is this? Has the statement too dogmatic a sound?

Is it too dogmatic to say that a man must have

foothold before he can spring? The position is the
same. If help is given, if work is done, then there is an
actual claim—not what we call a personal claim of
payment, but the claim of co-nature. The divine give,
they demand that you also shall give before you can
be of their kin.

This law is discovered as soon as the disciple

endeavours to speak. For speech is a gift which comes
only to the disciple of power and knowledge. The
spiritualist enters the psychic-astral world, but he
does not find there any certain speech, unless he at
once claims it and continues to do so. If he is interested
in “phenomena,” or the mere circumstance and
 67

accident of astral life, then he enters no direct ray of

thought or purpose, he merely exists and amuses
himself in the astral life as he has existed and amused
himself in the physical life. Certainly there are one or
two simple lessons which the psychic-astral can teach
him, just as there are simple lessons which material
and intellectual life teach him. And these lessons have
to be learned; the man who proposes to enter upon
the life of the disciple without having learned the
early and simple lessons must always suffer from his
ignorance. They are vital, and have to be studied in a
vital manner; experienced through and through, over
and over again, so that each part of the nature has
been penetrated by them.

To return. In claiming the power of speech, as it is

called, the Neophyte cries out to the Great One who
stands foremost in the ray of knowledge on which he
has entered, to give him guidance. When he does this,
his voice is hurled back by the power he has
approached, and echoes down to the deep recesses of
human ignorance. In some confused and blurred
manner the news that there is knowledge and a
beneficent power which teaches, is carried to as
 68

many men as will listen to it. No disciple can cross the

threshold without communicating this news, and
placing it on record in some fashion or other.

He stands horror-struck at the imperfect and

unprepared manner in which he has done this, and
then comes the desire to do it well, and with the
desire thus to help others comes the power. For it is a
pure desire, this which comes upon him; he can gain
no credit, no glory, no personal reward by fulfilling it.
And therefore he obtains the power to fulfil it.

The history of the whole past, so far as we can

trace it, shows very plainly that there is neither
credit, glory, nor reward to be gained by this first task
which is given to the Neophyte. Mystics have always
been sneered at, and seers disbelieved, those who
have had the added power of intellect have left for
posterity their written record, which to most men
appears unmeaning and visionary, even when the
authors have the advantage of speaking from a far-off
past. The disciple who undertakes the task, secretly
hoping for fame or success, to appear as a teacher
and apostle before the world, fails even before his
task is attempted,
 69

and his hidden hypocrisy poisons his own soul, and

the souls of those he touches. He is secretly
worshiping himself, and this idolatrous practice must
bring its own reward.

The disciple who has the power of entrance, and is

strong enough to pass each barrier, will, when the
divine message comes to his spirit, forget himself
utterly in the new consciousness which falls on him. If
this lofty contact can really rouse him, he becomes as
one of the Divine in his desire to give rather than to
take, in his wish to help rather than be helped, in his
resolution to feed the hungry rather than take manna
from Heaven himself. His nature is transformed, and
the selfishness which prompts men's actions in
ordinary life suddenly deserts him.
 70

IV.
THE SECLUSION OF THE ADEPT

“BEFORE THE VOICE CAN SPEAK IN THE PRESENCE OF THE

MASTERS, IT MUST HAVE LOST THE POWER TO WOUND.”

Those who give a merely passing and superficial

attention to the subject of Occultism—and their name
is Legion—constantly inquire why, if adepts in life
exist, they do not appear in the world and show their
power. That the chief body of these wise ones should
be understood to dwell beyond the fastnesses of the
Himalayas, appears to be a sufficient proof that they
are only figures of straw. Otherwise, why place them
so far off?

Unfortunately, Nature has done this and not

personal choice or arrangement. There are certain
spots on the earth where the advance of “civilization”
is unfelt, and the nineteen century fever is kept at bay.
In these favored places there is always time, always
 71

opportunity, for the realities of life; they are not

crowded out by the doings of an inchoate, money-
loving, pleasure seeking society. While there are
adepts upon the earth, the earth must preserve to
them places of seclusion. This is a fact in Nature
which is only an external expression of a profound
fact in super-nature.

The demand of the Neophyte remains unheard

until the voice in which it is uttered has lost the
power to wound. This is because the divine-astral
life* is a place in which order reigns, just as it does in
natural life. There is, of course, always the centre and
the circumference as there is in nature. Close to the
central heart of life, on any plane, there is knowledge,
there order reigns completely; and chaos makes dim
and confused the outer margin of the circle. In fact,
life in every form bears a more or less strong
resemblance to a
____________

* Of course every occultist knows by reading Eliphas Lévi and

other authors that the “astral” plane is a plane of unequalised
forces, and that a state of confusion necessarily prevails. But
this does not apply to the “divine astral” plane, which is a
plane where wisdom, and therefore order, prevails.
 72

philosophic school. There are always the devotes of

knowledge who forget their own lives in their pursuit
of it; there are always the flippant crowd who come
and go—Of such, Epictetus said that it was as easy to
teach them philosophy as to eat custard with a fork.
The same state exists in the super-astral life; and the
adept has an even deeper and more profound
seclusion there in which to dwell. This place of
retreat is so safe, so sheltered, that no sound which
has discord in it can reach his ears. Why should this
be, will be asked at once, if he is a being of such great
powers as those say who believe in his existence? The
answer seems very apparent. He serves humanity
and identifies himself with the whole world; he is
ready to make vicarious sacrifice for it at any
moment—by living not by dying for it. Why should he
not die for it? Because he is a part of the great whole,
and one of the most valuable parts of it. Because he
lives under laws of order which he does not desire to
break. His life is not his own, but that of the forces
which work behind him. He is the flower of humanity,
the bloom which contains the divine seed. He is, in his
own person, a treasure of the
 73

universal nature, which is guarded and made safe in

order that the fruition shall be perfected. It is only at
definite periods of the world's history that he is
allowed to go among the herd of men as their
redeemer. But for those who have the power to
separate themselves from this herd he is always at
hand. And for those who are strong enough to
conquer the vices of the personal human nature, as
set forth in these four rules, he is consciously at hand,
easily recognized, ready to answer.

But this conquering of self implies a destruction of

qualities which most men regard as not only
indestructible but desirable. The “power to wound”
includes much that man value, not only in
themselves, but in others. The instinct of self-defence
and of self-preservation is part of it; the idea that one
has any right or rights, either as citizen, or man, or
individual, the pleasant consciousness of self-respect
and of virtue. These are hard sayings to many; yet
they are true. For these words that I am writing now,
and those which I have written on this subject, are
not in any sense my own. They are drawn from the
traditions of the lodge of the Great Brotherhood, which
 74

was once the secret splendour of Egypt. The rules

written in its ante-chamber were the same as those
now written in the ante-chamber of existing schools.
Through all time the wise men have lived apart from
the mass. And even when some temporary purpose
or object induces one of them to come into the midst
of human life, his seclusion and safety are preserved
as completely as ever. It is part of his inheritance,
part of his position, he has an actual title to it, and can
no more put it aside that the Duke of Westminster
can say he does not choose to be the Duke of
Westminster. In the various great cities of the world
an adept lives for a while from time to time, or
perhaps only passes through; but all are occasionally
aided by the actual power and presence of one of
these men. Here in London, as in Paris and St
Petersburg, there are men high in development. But
they are only known as mystics by those who have
the power to recognize; the power given by the
conquering of self. Otherwise how could they exist,
even for an hour, in such a mental and psychic
atmosphere as is created by the confusion and
disorder of a city? Unless protected and made safe their
 75

own growth would be interfered with, their work

injured. And the neophyte may meet an adept in the
flesh, may live in the same house with Him, and yet be
unable to recognize him, and unable to make his own
voice heard by him. For no nearness in space, no
closeness of relations, no daily intimacy, can do away
with the inexorable laws which give the adept his
seclusion. No voice penetrates to his inner hearing till
it has become a divine voice, a voice which gives no
utterance to the cries of self. Any lesser appeal would
be as useless, as much a waste of energy and power,
as for mere children who are learning their alphabet
to be taught it by a professor of philology. Until a man
has become, in heart and spirit, a disciple, he has no
existence for those who are teachers of disciples. And
he becomes this by one method only—the surrender
of his personal humanity.

For the voice to have lost the power to wound, a

man must have reached that point where he sees
himself only as one of the vast multitudes that live; of
the sands washed hither and thither by the sea of
vibratory existence. It is said that every grain of sand in
 76

the ocean bed does, in its turn, get washed up on to

the shore and lie for a moment in the sunshine. So
with human beings, they are driven hither and thither
by a great force, and each, in his turn, finds the
sunrays on him. When a man is able to regard his
own life as part of a whole like this he will no longer
struggle in order to obtain anything for himself. This
is the surrender of personal rights. The ordinary man
expects, not to take equal fortunes with the rest of the
world, but in some points, about which he cares, to
fare better than the others. The disciple does not
expect this. Therefore, though he be, like Epictetus, a
chained slave, he has no word to say about it. He
knows that the wheel of life turns ceaselessly. Burne
Jones has shown it in his marvelous picture—the
wheel turns, and on it are bound the rich and the
poor, the great and the small—each has his moment
of good fortune when the wheel brings him
uppermost—the King rises and falls, the poet is fêted
and forgotten, the slave is happy and afterwards
discarded. Each in his turn is crushed as the wheel
turns on. The disciple knows that this is so, and
though it is his duty
 77

to make the utmost of the life that is his, he neither

complains of it nor is elated by it, nor does he complain
against the better fortune of others. All alike, as he well
knows, are but learning a lesson; and he smiles at the
socialist and the reformer who endeavour by sheer
force to rearrange circumstances which arise out of the
forces of human nature itself. This is but kicking against
the pricks; a waste of life and energy.

In realizing this a man surrenders his imagined

individual rights, of whatever sort. That takes away one
keen sting which is common to all ordinary men.

When the disciple has fully recognized that the

very thought of individual rights is only the outcome
of the venomous quality in himself, that it is the hiss
of the snake of self which poisons with its sting his
own life and the lives of those about him, then he is
ready to take part in a yearly ceremony which is open
to all neophytes who are prepared for it. All weapons
of defence and offence are given up; all weapons of
mind and heart, and brain, and spirit. Never again can
another man be regarded as a person who can be
criticized or
 78

condemned; never again can the neophyte raise his voice

in self-defense or excuse. From that ceremony he returns
into the world as helpless, as unprotected, as a new-born
child. That, indeed, is what he is. He has begun to be born
again on to the higher plane of life, that breezy and well-
lit plateau from whence the eyes see intelligently and
regard the world with a new insight.

I have said, a little way back, that after parting with

the sense of individual rights, the disciple must part also
with the sense of self-respect and of virtue. This may
sound a terrible doctrine, yet all occultists know well that
it is not a doctrine, but a fact. He who thinks himself
holier than another, he who has any pride in his own
exemption from vice or folly, he who believes himself
wise, or in any way superior to his fellow men, is
incapable of discipleship. A man must become as a little
child before he can enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Virtue and wisdom are sublime things; but if they

create pride and a consciousness of separateness
from the rest of humanity in the mind of a man, then
they are only the snake of
 79

self reappearing in a finer form. At any moment he

may put on his grosser shape and sting as fiercely as
when he inspired the actions of a murderer who kills
for gain or hatred, or a politician who sacrifices the
mass for his own or his party's interests.

In fact, to have lost the power to wound, implies

that the snake is not only scotched, but killed. When it
is merely stupefied or lulled to sleep it awakes again
and the disciple uses his knowledge and his power
for his own ends, and is a pupil of the many Masters
of the black art, for the road to destruction is very
broad and easy, and the way can be found blindfold.
That it is the way to destruction is evident, for when a
man begins to live for self he narrows his horizon
steadily till at last the fierce driving inwards leaves
him but the space of a pin's head to dwell in. We have
all seen this phenomenon occur in ordinary life. A
man who becomes selfish isolates himself, grows less
interesting and less agreeable to others. The sight is
an awful one, and people shrink from a very selfish
person at last, as from a best of prey. How much more
awful is it when it occurs on the more advanced plane
of life, with the
 80

added powers of knowledge, and through the greater

sweep of successive incarnations!
Therefore I say, pause and think well upon the
threshold. For if the demand of the neophyte is made
without the complete purification it will not
penetrate the seclusion of the divine adept, but will
evoke the terrible forces which attend upon the black
side of our human nature.

. . . . . . .
“BEFORE THE SOUL CAN STAND IN THE PRESENCE OF THE
MASTERS ITS FEET MUST BE WASHED IN THE BLOOD OF THE
HEART.”

The word soul, as used here, means the Divine

Soul, or “starry Spirit.”
“To be able to stand is to have confidence”; and to
have confidence means that the disciple is sure of
himself, that he has surrendered his emotions, his
very self, even his humanity; that he is incapable of
fear and unconscious of pain; that his whole
consciousness is centered in the divine life, which is
expressed symbolically by the term “the Masters”;
that he has neither
 81

eyes, nor ears, nor speech, nor power, save in and for
the divine ray on which his highest sense has
touched. Then is he fearless, free from suffering, free
from anxiety or dismay; his soul stands without
shrinking or desire of postponement, in the full blaze
of the divine light which penetrates through and
through his being. Then he has come into his
inheritance and can claim his kinship with the
teachers of men; he is upright, he has raised his head,
he breathes the same air that they do.
But before it is in any way possible for him to do
this, the feet of the soul must be washed in the blood
of the heart.
The sacrifice, or surrender of the heart of man, and
its emotions, is the first of the rules; it involves the
“attaining of an equilibrium which cannot be shaken
by personal emotion.” This is done by the stoic
philosopher; he, too, stands aside and looks equably
upon his own sufferings, as well as on those of others.
In the same way that “tears” in the language of
occultists expresses the soul of emotion, not its
material appearance, so blood expresses not that
blood which is an essential of physical life, but the
vital creative principle in man's nature,
 82

which drives him into human life in order to

experience pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow. When
he has let the blood flow from the heart he stands
before the Masters as a pure spirit which no longer
wishes to incarnate for the sake of emotion and
experience. Through great cycles of time successive
incarnations in gross matter may yet be his lot; but he
no longer desires them, the crude wish to live has
departed from him. When he takes upon him man's
form in the flesh he does it in the pursuit of a divine
object, to accomplish the work of “the Masters,” and
for no other end. He looks neither for pleasure nor
pain, asks for no heaven, and fears no hell; yet he has
entered upon a great inheritance, which is not so
much a compensation for these things surrendered,
as a state which simply blots out the memory of them.
He lives now not in the world, but with it; his horizon
has extended itself to the width of the whole
universe.
 83

KARMA
 84

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 85

KARMA

Consider with me that the individual existence is a

rope which stretches from the infinite to the infinite
and has no end and no commencement, neither is it
capable of being broken. This rope is formed of
innumerable fine threads, which, lying closely
together, form its thickness. These threads are
colourless, are perfect in their qualities of
straightness, strength and levelness. This rope,
passing as it does through all places, suffers strange
accidents. Very often a thread is caught and becomes
attached, or perhaps is only violently pulled away
from its even way. Then for a great time it is
disordered and it disorders the whole. Sometimes
one is stained with dirt or with colour; and not only
does the stain run on further than the spot of
contract, but it discolours other of the threads. And
remember that the threads are living—are like
electric wires, more, are like quivering nerves. How far,
then, must the stain, the drag awry, be communicated!
 86

But eventually the long strands, the living thread

which in their unbroken continuity form the
individual, pass out of the shadow into the shine.
Then the threads are no longer colourless, but
golden; once more they lie together, level. Once
more harmony is established between them; and
from that harmony within the greater harmony is
perceived.

This illustration presents but a small portion—a

single side of the truth: it is less than a fragment. Yet,
dwell on it; by its aid you may be led to perceive
more. What it is necessary first to understand is, not
that the future is arbitrarily formed by any separate
acts of the present, but that the whole of the future is
in unbroken continuity with the present, as the
present is with the past. On one plane, from one point
of view, the illustration of the rope is correct.

It is said that a little attention to occultism

produces great Karmic results. That is because it is
impossible to give any attention to occultism without
making a definite choice between what are familiarly
called good and
 87

evil. The first step in occultism brings the student to

the tree of knowledge. He must pluck and eat; he must
choose. No longer is he capable of the indecision of
ignorance. He goes on, either on the good or on the evil
path. And to step definitely and knowingly even but
one step on either path produces great Karmic results.
The mass of men walk waveringly, uncertain as to the
goal they aim at; their standard of life is indefinite;
consequently their Karma operates in a confused
manner. But when once the threshold of knowledge is
reached, the confusion beings to lessen, and
consequently the Karmic results increase enormously,
because all are acting in the same direction on all the
different planes: for the occultist cannot be half-
hearted, nor can he return when he has passed the
threshold. These things are as impossible as that the
man should become the child again. The individuality
has approached the state of responsibility by reason of
growth; it cannot recede from it.

He who would escape from the bondage of Karma

must raise his individuality out of the shadow into
the shine; must so elevate his existence that these
threads do not come in
 88

contact with soiling substances, do not become so

attached as to be pulled awry. He simply lifts himself
out of the region in which Karma operates. He does
not leave the existence which he is experiencing
because of that. The ground may be rough and dirty,
or full of rich flowers whose pollen stains and of
sweet substances that cling and become
attachments—but overhead there is always the free
sky. He who desires to be Karmaless must look to the
air for a home; and after that to the ether. He who
desires to form good Karma will meet with many
confusions, and in the effort to sow rich seed for his
own harvesting may plant a thousand weeds, and
among them the giant. Desire to sow no seed for your
own harvesting; desire only to sow that seed the fruit
of which shall feed the world. You are a part of the
world; in giving it food you feed yourself. Yet in even
this thought there lurks a great danger which starts
forward and faces the disciple who has for long
thought himself working for good, while in his inmost
soul he has perceived only evil; that is, he has thought
himself to be intending great benefit to the world
while all the time he has unconsciously embraced the
 89

thought of Karma, and the great benefit he works for

is for himself. A man may refuse to allow himself to
think of reward. But in that very refusal is seen the
fact that reward is desired. And it is useless for the
disciple to strive to learn by means of checking
himself. The soul must be unfettered, the desires free.
But until they are fixed only on that state wherein
there is neither reward nor punishment, good nor
evil, it is in vain that he endeavours. He may seem to
make great progress, but some day he will come face
to face with his own soul, and will recognize that
when he came to the tree of knowledge he chose the
bitter fruit and not the sweet; and then the veil will
fall utterly, and he will give up his freedom and
become a slave of desire. Therefore be warned, you
who are but turning towards the life of Occultism.
Learn now that there is no cure for desire, no cure for
the love of reward, no cure for the misery of longing,
save in the fixing of the sight and hearing upon that
which is invisible and soundless. Begin even now to
practice it, and so a thousand serpents will be kept
from your path. Live in the eternal.
 90

The operations of the actual laws of Karma are not

to be studied until the disciple has reached the point
at which they no longer affect himself. The initiate
has a right to demand the secrets of Nature and to
know the rules which govern human life. He obtains
this right by having escaped from the limits of nature
and by having freed himself from the rules which
govern human life. He has become a recognized
portion of the divine element, and is no longer
affected by that which is temporary. He then obtains
a knowledge of the laws which govern temporary
conditions. Therefore you who desire to understand
the laws of Karma, attempt first to free yourself from
these laws; and this can only be done by fixing your
attention on that which is unaffected by those laws.

[End]