II
HOW
TO ATTAIN KNOWLEDGE OF THE HIGHER WORLDS
In every
man there are latent faculties by means of which he can acquire for
himself knowledge of the higher worlds. The mystic, theosophist, or
gnostic speaks of a soul-world and a spirit-world, which are, for
him, just as real as the world which we see with our physical eyes,
or touch with our physical hands. At every moment his listener may
say to himself: What he speaks about I too can learn, when I have
developed within myself certain powers which today lie slumbering
within me. There remains only the question as to how one has to
commence in order to develop within oneself such faculties. For this
only those can give advice who have already developed such powers
within themselves. As: long as the human race has existed, there have
always been schools in which those who possessed these higher
faculties gave instruction to those who were in search of them. Such
are called the occult schools, and the instruction which is imparted
therein is called esoteric science, or occult teaching. Such a
designation naturally awakens misunderstanding. He who hears it may
be very easily misled into the belief that those who work in these,
schools desire to represent a special, privileged class, which
arbitrarily withholds its knowledge from its fellow-creatures.
Indeed, he may even think that perhaps there is nothing really
important behind such knowledge. For he is tempted to think that, if
it were a true knowledge, there would then be no need to make a
secret about it: one might then communicate it publicly and open up
its advantages to all men.
Those who
have been initiated into the nature of the occult knowledge are not
in the least surprised that the uninitiated should so think. Only he
who has to a certain degree experienced this initiation into the
higher secrets of being can understand the secret of that initiation.
But it may be asked: How, then, shall the uninitiated, considering
the circumstances, develop any interest at all in this so-called
occult knowledge? How and why ought they to search for something of
whose nature they can form no idea? But such a question is based upon
an entirely erroneous conception of the real nature of occult
knowledge. There is, in truth, no difference between occult knowledge
and all the rest of man's knowledge and capacity. This occult
knowledge is no more of a secret for the average man than writing is
a secret to him who has never learned to read. And just as everyone
who chooses the correct method may learn to write, so too can
everyone who searches after the right way become a disciple, and even
a teacher. In only one respect are the conditions here different from
those that apply to external thought activities. The possibility of
acquiring the art of writing may be withheld from someone through
poverty, or through the state of civilisation into which he has been
born; but for the attainment of knowledge in the higher worlds there
is no obstacle for him who sincerely reaches for it.
Many
believe that one has to find, here or there, the Masters of the
higher knowledge, in order to receive enlightenment from them. In the
first place, he who strives earnestly after the higher knowledge need
not be afraid of any difficulty or obstacle in his search for an
Initiate who shall be able to lead him into the profounder secrets of
the world. Everyone, on the contrary, may be certain that an Initiate
will find him out, under any circumstances, if there is in him an
earnest and worthy endeavour to attain this knowledge. For it is a
strict law amongst all Initiates to withhold from no man the
knowledge that is due to him. But there is an equally strict law
which insists that no one shall receive any occult knowledge until he
is worthy. And the more strictly he observes these two laws, the more
perfect is an Initiate. The order which embraces all Initiates is
surrounded, as it were, by a wall, and the two laws here mentioned
form two strong principles by which the constituents of this wall are
held together. You may live in close friendship with an Initiate, yet
this wall will separate him from you just as long as you have not
become an Initiate yourself. You may enjoy in the fullest sense the
heart, the love of an Initiate, yet he will only impart to you his
secret when you yourself are ready for it. You may flatter him; you
may torture him; nothing will induce him to divulge to you anything
which he knows ought not to be disclosed, inasmuch as you, at the
present stage of your evolution, do not understand how rightly to
receive the secret into your soul.
The ways
which prepare a man for the reception of a secret are clearly
prescribed. They are indicated by the unfading, everlasting letters
within the temples where the Initiates guard the hi4her secrets. In
ancient times, anterior to “history,” these temples were
outwardly visible; today, because our lives have become so
unspiritual, they are mostly quite invisible to external sight. Yet
they are present everywhere, and all who seek may find them.
Only
within his soul may a man discover the means which will open for him
the lips of the Initiate. To a certain high degree he must develop
within himself special faculties, and then the greatest treasures of
the Spirit become his own.
He must
begin with a certain fundamental attitude of the soul: the student of
Occultism calls it the Path of Devotion, of Veneration. Only he who
maintains this attitude can, in Occultism, become a disciple. And he
who has experience in these things is able to perceive even in the
child the signs of approaching discipleship. There are children who
look up with religious awe to those they venerate. For such people
they have a respect which forbids them to admit even in the innermost
sanctuary of the heart any thought of criticism or opposition. Such
children grow up into young men and maidens who feel happy when they
are able to look up to anything venerable. From the ranks of such
children are recruited many disciples.
Have you
ever paused outside the door of some venerated man, and have you, on
this your first visit, felt a religious awe as you pressed the
handle, in order to enter the room which for you is a holy place?
Then there has been manifested in you an emotion which may be the
germ of your future discipleship. It is a blessing for every
developing person to have such emotions upon which to build. Only it
must not be thought that such qualities are the germ of
submissiveness and slavery. Experience teaches us that those can best
hold their heads erect who have learnt to venerate where veneration
is due. And veneration is always in its place when it rises from the
depths of the heart.
If we do
not develop within ourselves this deeply-rooted feeling that there is
something higher than ourselves, we shall never find enough strength
to evolve to something higher. The Initiate has only acquired the
power of lifting his intellect to the heights of knowledge by guiding
his heart into the depths of veneration and devotion. The heights of
the Spirit can only be reached by passing through the portals of
humility. You can only acquire right knowledge when you have learnt
to esteem it. Man has certainly the right to gaze upon the Reality,
but he must first acquire this right. There are laws in the spiritual
life, as in the physical life. Rub a glass rod with an appropriate
material and it will become electric, that is to say, it will receive
the power of attracting small bodies. This exemplifies natural law.
And if one has learnt even a little of physics, one knows this.
Similarly, if one is acquainted with the first principles of
Occultism, one knows that every feeling of true devotion which opens
out in the soul, develops a power which may, sooner or later, lead to
the Path of Knowledge.
He who
possesses within himself this feeling of devotion, or who is
fortunate enough to receive it from his education, brings a great
deal along with him, when, later in life, he seeks an entrance to the
higher knowledge. But he who brings no such preparation will find
himself confronted with difficulties even upon the first step of the
Path of Knowledge, unless he undertakes, by rigorous self-education,
to create the devotional mood within himself. In our time it is
especially important that full attention be given to this point. Our
civilisation tends much more towards criticism, the giving of
judgments, and so forth, than toward devotion, and a selfless
veneration. Our children already criticise far more than they
worship. But every judgment, every carping criticism, frustrates the
powers of the soul for the attainment of the higher knowledge, in the
same measure that all heartfelt devotion develops them. In this we do
not wish to say anything against our civilisation. It is in no way a
question of passing a criticism upon it. It is just to this critical
faculty, this self-conscious human judgment, this “prove all
things and hold fast the good,” that we owe the greatness of
our civilisation. We could never have attained to the science, the
commerce, the industry, the law of our time, had we not exercised our
critical faculty everywhere, had we not everywhere applied the
standard of our judgment. But what we have thereby gained in external
culture we have had to pay for with a corresponding loss of the
higher knowledge, of the spiritual life.
Now the
one thing that everyone must clearly understand is that for him who
is right in the centre of the objective civilisation of our time, it
is very difficult to advance to the knowledge of the higher worlds.
He can only do so if he works energetically within himself. At a time
when the conditions of outward life were simpler, spiritual
exaltation was easier of attainment. That which ought to be
venerated, that which ought to be kept holy, stood out in better
relief from the ordinary things of the world. In a period of
criticism these ideals are lowered; other emotions take the place of
veneration, respect, prayer, and wonder. Our own age continually
pushes these emotions further and further back, so that in the daily
life of the people they play but a very small part. He who seeks for,
higher knowledge must create it within himself; he must himself
instil it into his soul. It cannot be done by study: it can only be
done through life. He who wishes to become a disciple must therefore
assiduously cultivate the devotional mood. Everywhere in his
environment he must look for that which demands of him admiration and
homage. Whenever his duties or circumstances permit, he should try to
renounce entirely all criticism or judgment. If I meet a man and
blame him for his weakness, I rob myself of power to win the higher
knowledge; but if I try to enter lovingly into his merits, I then
gather such power. The disciple must continually try to follow out
this advice. Experienced occultists are aware how much they owe to
the continual searching for the good in all things, and the
withholding of all carping criticism. This must not remain only as an
external rule of life; rather must it take possession of the
innermost part of our souls. We have it in our power to perfect
ourselves, and by and by to transform ourselves completely. But this
transformation must take place in the innermost self, in the mental
life. It is not enough that I show respect only in my outward bearing
toward a person; I must have this respect in my thought. The disciple
must begin by drawing this devotion into his thought-life, He must
altogether banish from his consciousness all thoughts of disrespect,
of criticism, and he must endeavour straightway to cultivate thoughts
of devotion.
Every
moment in which we set ourselves to banish from our consciousness
whatever remains in it of disparaging, suspicious judgment of our
fellow-men, every such moment brings us nearer to the knowledge of
higher things. And we rise rapidly when, in such moments, we fill our
consciousness only with thoughts that evoke in us admiration,
respect, and veneration for men and things. He who has experience in
these matters will know that in every such moment powers are awakened
in man which otherwise remain dormant. In this way the spiritual eyes
of a man are opened. He begins to see things around him which
hitherto he was unable to see. He begins to understand that hitherto
he had only seen a part of the world around him. The man with whom he
comes in contact now shows him quite a different aspect from what he
showed before. Of course, he will not yet, through this rule of life
alone, be able to see what has elsewhere been described as the human
aura, because, for that, a still higher training is necessary. But he
can rise to this higher training if he has previously gone through a
thorough training in devotion. [In the last chapter of the book
entitled Theosophie (Berlin, C. A.
Schwetschke und Sohn), Dr. Rudolf Steiner fully describes this
“Path of Knowledge;” here it is only intended to give
some practical details.]
Noiseless
and unnoticed by the outer world is the treading of the “Path
of Discipleship.” It is not necessary that anyone should notice
a change in the disciple. He does his duties as hitherto; he attends
to his business as before. The transformation goes on only in the
inner part of the soul, hidden from outward sight. At first the
entire soul-life of a man is flooded by this fundamental mood of
devotion for everything which is truly venerable. His entire
soul-life finds in this fundamental mood its pivot. Just as the sun,
through its rays, will vivify everything living, so in the life of
the disciple this reverence vivifies all the perceptions of the
soul.
At first
it is not easy for people to believe that feelings like reverence,
respect, and so forth, have anything to do with their perceptions.
This comes from the fact that one is inclined to think of perception
as a faculty quite by itself, one that stands in no relation to what
otherwise happens in the soul. In so thinking, we do not remember
that it is the soul which perceives. And feelings are for the soul
what food is for the body. If we give the body stones in place of
bread its activity will cease. It is the same with the soul.
Veneration, homage, devotion, are as nutriment which makes it healthy
and strong, and especially strong for the activity of perception.
Disrespect, antipathy, and under-estimation, bring about the
starvation and withering of this activity. For the occultist this
fact is visible in the aura. A soul which harbours the feelings of
devotion and reverence, brings about a change in its aura. Certain
yellowish-red or brown-red tints will vanish, and tints of bluish-red
will replace them. And then the organ of perception opens. It
receives information of facts in its neighbourhood of which hitherto
it had no knowledge. Reverence awakens a sympathetic power in the
soul, and through this we attract similar qualities in the beings
which surround us, which would otherwise remain hidden. More
effective still is that power which can be obtained by devotion when
another feeling is added. One learns to give oneself up less and less
to the impressions of the outer world, and to develop in its place a
vivid inward life. He who darts from one impression of the outer
world to another, constantly seeks dissipations, cannot find the way
to Occultism. The disciple must not blunt himself to the outer world;
but rich inner life will point out the direction in which he ought to
lend himself to its impressions. When passing through a beautiful
mountain district, the man with depth of soul and richness of emotion
has different experiences from the man with few emotions. Only what
we experience within ourselves opens up the beauties of the outer
world. One man sails across the ocean, and only a few inward
experiences pass through his soul: but another will then hear the
eternal language of the World-Spirit, and for him are unveiled the
mysteries of creation.
One must
have learnt to control one's own feelings and ideas if one wishes to
develop any intimate relationship with the outer world. Every
phenomenon in that outer World is full of divine splendour, but one
must have felt the Divine within oneself before one can hope to
discover it without. The disciple is told to set apart certain
moments of his daily life during which to withdraw into himself,
quietly and alone. But at such time he ought not to occupy himself
with his own personal affairs, for this would bring about the
contrary of that which he is aiming at. During these moments he ought
rather to listen in complete silence to the echoes of what he has
experienced, of what the outward world has told him. Then, in these
periods of quiet, every flower, every animal, every action will
unveil to him secrets undreamed of, and thus he will prepare himself
to receive new impressions of the external world, as if he viewed it
with different eyes. For he who merely desires to enjoy impression
after impression, only stultifies the perceptive faculty, while he
who lets the enjoyment afterwards reveal something to him, thus
enlarges and educates it. But he must be careful not merely to let
the enjoyment reverberate, as it were; but, renouncing any further
enjoyment, rather to work upon his pleasurable experiences with an
inward activity. The danger at this point is very great. Instead of
working within one self, it is easy to fall into the opposite habit
of afterwards trying to completely exhaust the enjoyment. Let us not
undervalue the unforeseen sources of error which here confront the
disciple. He must of necessity pass through a host of temptations,
each of which tends only to harden his Ego and to imprison it within
itself. He ought to open it wide for the whole world. It is necessary
that he should seek enjoyment, for in this way only can the outward
world get at him; and if he blunts himself to enjoyment he becomes as
a plant which cannot any longer draw nourishment from its
environment. Yet, if he stops at the enjoyment, he is then shut up
within himself, and will only be something to himself and nothing to
the world. However much he may live within himself, however intensely
he may cultivate his Ego, the world will exclude him. He is dead to
the world. But the disciple considers enjoyment only as a means of
ennobling himself for the world. Pleasure is to him as a scout who
informs him concerning the world, and after having been taught by
pleasure he passes on to work. He does not learn in order that he may
accumulate learning as his own treasure, but in order that he may put
his learning at the service of the world.
In all
forms of Occultism there is a fundamental principle which cannot be
transgressed, if any goal at all is to be reached. Every occult
teacher must impress it upon his pupils, and it runs as follows:
Every branch of knowledge which you seek only to enrich your own
learning, only to accumulate treasure for yourself, leads you away
from the Path: but all knowledge which you seek for working in the
service of humanity and for the uplifting of the world, brings you a
step forward. This law must be rigidly observed; nor is one a genuine
disciple until he has adopted it as the guide for his whole life. In
many occult schools this truth is expressed in the following short
sentences. Every idea which does not become an ideal for you, slays a
power in your soul: every idea which becomes an ideal creates within
you living powers.
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