WE find that in all the great religious systems or spiritual movements in the world, there has been one general method of presenting the ideas which are associated with mysticism. They generally begin by using a symbol of some kind to suggest boundlessness in every direction. The Christian uses the word God. In the eastern religions we have the same idea though the terms vary, other words being associated with the conception of God. Therefore in thinking out what the path is, and what the goal is towards which man is travelling, it is necessary to begin by postulating God. Some of us, in our ignorance, try to define God; but we soon find that is impossible. The only blasphemy to the true mystic is a grotesque definition of that which cannot be defined. Men may speak disrespectfully of personal gods, because they know the frailties to which they themselves are subject. There is always, to the mystic, that fundamental principle which is behind what he is able to sense or see or express. In the eastern systems we have this idea expressed in terms of boundless duration, limitless space, essence of being. Out of this boundless duration, we have manifested time, and out of the limitless space, objective space. Out of undifferentiated essence of being come manifested forms and shapes. We come out of the undefined condition into something more defined, which we speak of as Logos; out of the God idea we come to the Christ idea.

We have time manifesting in cycles, year following year, and the year divided into seasons, and so on through centuries and through kalpa-s innumerable. In all mystical systems the periodical manifestations of the first, second, and third Logos may be found in some form.

When we come to ourselves, we find that we have somehow or other gathered up within us all conditions of the past in a synthesis. We have in our physical makeup the synthesis of the whole material universe; in our psychic make-up the synthesis of the world soul, and in our spiritual make-up the synthesis of all the abstract perfections we associate with the Logos and the God idea. Although divine in essence, we speak of returning to divinity. We talk of following a path, while that very path is within each of us. Only that which comes down from heaven, only that which is of the nature of perfection per se, can go back to heaven or return to perfection, and all our symbolism, interpreted with true mystical understanding, carries out that idea. The imperfect elements are put in the crucible, and the fire applied to them, so that in the burning of imperfect elements the perfect substance can finally be made manifest.

It is because there is within us this seed of perfection that it is possible to walk along that pathway which leads back again to God. The paradox is reconciled. From God to God our journey lies. Out of a garden of innocence too blessed for our rebel spirits, we have proceeded by circuitous and devious ways; and the civilizations of today represent the result. Few of us can feel satisfied with it except as presenting numberless opportunities for effort.

What is this mystic path? There is a very good symbol given in the Caduceus, the staff of Mercury. A rod, with wings at the top going out on both sides, and two serpents winding round the rod on each side; the one serpent is generally shown white and the other black. The two are intertwined along this path which leads to the winged God. We find many suggestive meanings here, and an indication of the possibility of reaching perfection much more quickly by going straight up the centre of the staff than is possible by going round the winding path represented by the serpents. If you follow the course of the black serpent, you can trace it down through the first, second, third and fourth periods of evolution. The fourth is the turning point. It now seems possible, when you reach this point, having differentiated sufficiently to be a centre of consciousness, to follow the example of the Saviours of the world, and go up the straight line to God instead of taking the winding path. In order to do this, you have to sacrifice all selfish interests and very few are ready to do this. When we see the Christs, prototypes of the future man, we see what is possible to be accomplished by individual effort. They are the first fruits, the firstborn of many brethren. These great ones are always upon the earth, for the earth contains all. It is necessary to have upon the planet representations of the highest perfection, in order that in the darkest hour, the lamp may be kept alight upon the human altar.

The general idea then seems to be that as we have so many selfish interests, we will take the long tour, we will do it gently and easily and enjoy ourselves as we journey, and for the majority of mankind this appears to be the most sensible thing to do. For story after story in the literature of the ages shows the failure which follows the attempt to take the short cut without adequate preparation. After a little while the traveller looks back and says: How much more developed I am than those others taking the long path; or he thinks: I am an Initiate; and down he comes. He has now to begin the work over again. You are far more likely to be successfully tempted if you take the straight path; but you may still think it worth trying, knowing that he who endures to the end, the same shall be saved, and the burden made lighter for all humanity.

We all have to embark on the great ocean of life. Sects and religions are arks or boats in which we travel. The ocean is covered with little boats, all going to the same port the port of the divine. We invariably get on some kind of an ark in which we think there is a chance of salvation. But very few sail straight. All the boats make long detours. The first cabin passengers quarrel with the second-class passengers; sometimes some of the boats get on the rocks and break up altogether and the crew and passengers have to look out for safe accommodation on other boats.

In one of the Upanishad-s it is stated that he who worships the created image will be carried safely through the gates of death, asleep; but he who worships the uncreate will enjoy immortality. The word 'enjoy' is important here. It is an active condition of consciousness. Though in essence you are immortal, you may not enjoy immortality while you cling to images in which the soul sleeps. The sincere soul, however, under any image, in the end does find peace. Those who seem to be occupying themselves with foolish things are provided for; there is a safe and sound seed at the heart of all. We build images and shall have to destroy them some day; but they serve their purpose, and help us along the initial stages of our pilgrimage.

We pass through the gates of death, and cannot take anything with us but the results in character; only that which stands the final test which the Angel of Death puts upon us all. Death says: Loosen your hold, this is not everything, these attachments which appear so real to you are only temporary. We carry all the personal baggage we can right up to the last gate and have then to drop it all; but it is all taken care of by the elemental powers of Nature, and so we need not mind dropping it and passing onwards in peace. We save out of all these things what is worth saving. We should be too utterly weary to go forward if the Angel of Death did not come and say; Up, up, up into the great house of God, where the Spirit, free from all these cares, is perfect, and sweet and holy in the presence of God, about whose pavilion is the mystery of darkness. Not for ever do we thus go, however. No, because we have ties, interests that we have left behind which attract us. So, after resting for a while, we return again through the gates of birth into waking life; again we take up the burden and toil, possibly returning to work which others have been carrying forward in the interval to carry it still nearer to perfection, not perhaps this time with entire forgetfulness. The aim of the mystic is to come back without forgetfulness, that he may retain the memory of essentials and not waste years of life looking for those who are likewise engaged with him in the joyous toil. We meet the comrades and lovers of former days and recognize them and renew the tasks of that divine enterprise in which we are partners with all the principles of life.

We have no doubt registered vows to serve humanity; and the children of the soul are not limited to the usual methods of communication. A common interest brings you near to all your comrades and the discipline of comradeship is renewed. We are told that there is a way of avoiding the necessity of coming back; but I prefer to come back, though the struggle may be great and the way a stony one. There have been moments of sadness, but it has been wonderfully sweet in the heart to meet men and women and children and rejoice in and with them, and to see the look of immortality shining out of their eyes, perhaps when they least knew it. We are going, dear ones, to plough the fields of humanity until the flowers of human glory grow from the seeds which now lie deep in the ground.

The path lies through the three worlds. You ask: 'What steps am I to take to travel this path safely through these three continents of my being?' Well, many instructions have been given, many wise things have been said for our guidance. There has been so much written and so much instruction given that we take little notice of it. We are more interested in a recent novel or one of the latest books on psychology, anything new, rather than the old things. But you will say: 'Cannot you give us a hint?' Yes, I think I can. It is not a new one, it is quite old. If you believe that you are a Spirit and a soul and a body a Monad, then you have to act up to that belief, not to forget it. And in order that you may not forget it, it has been suggested that you should meditate upon this truth as often as you can. This does not mean that you have to go into a small room and cross your legs in a particular way. That may help you, and sometimes it is a considerable help. But when you walk the street, travel in trains and omnibuses, or at any time when you find the opportunity, let the undercurrent of your thought always be flowing towards these spiritual realities. Then there will arise a knowledge of the truth which before only came to you in fitful gleams, or when you said your prayers or were engaged in devotional exercises. This knowledge will begin to grow up tenderly at first, and eventually colour your whole conscious ness. Meditation upon this truth will begin to awaken in you that memory of paradise which is hidden away in your heart. The veils of the material world will grow thin, you will see the real atoms instead of the chemical atoms, ensouled and infilled with the image of Love, for every atom carries the image of Love. Choose the highest thought you know for the car of your meditation upon which you will go to the other worlds. You have around you guardians who are watching and taking care of you. You need not fear. Every part of Nature makes quick response to the man or woman who is spiritually awake and unafraid.

Reprinted from The Theosophist, September 1914.