II. Some Practical Points
of View.
IN
THE
LAST
LECTURE
we tried to present a
retrospect not only of the content of our studies during the past
year, but also of the true meaning — the inner spirit of these
studies. In doing so we showed that the spirit which fills our souls
when considering the Christ-problem from all possible sides must
permeate our whole movement, all our spiritual efforts. We realise
that we have been able to grasp one subject from so many different
aspects because, in striving after knowledge, we have ever cultivated
true modesty with regard to this knowledge. We should like for a
moment to speak somewhat more exactly about humility in respect of
knowledge.
I have often said
that we can only arrive at a true conception of any object when this
is viewed from different aspects, that only when these different
views are placed side by side is a true picture of the object
obtained. Even in ordinary observation we must go all round an object
in order to form a comprehensive conception of it. If anyone said
that it was possible to grasp an object at a single glance, from one
point of view in the spiritual world, he would be much mistaken. Many
human errors spring from failing to recognise this. In the accounts
given by us of the Event of Palestine great care has been taken that
thoroughness in this respect should not be relaxed. We have four
accounts of this event, the accounts of the four Evangelists. Those
who do not know that in spiritual life an object, being, or event,
must be observed from different sides (for people approach such
things without much thought) see nothing more in this fact than the
possibility of apparent contradictions between the Evangelists. We
have repeatedly pointed out that the accounts of the four Evangelists
have to be regarded as giving four different aspects of the one
mighty Event of Christ, and that they must he compared one with
another as we compare four pictures of the same object taken from
different sides. If we proceed carefully in this way as we have
already tried to do in respect of the Gospels of Matthew, of John,
and Luke, and as we hope later to do in respect of the Gospel of
Mark, it is seen that the four accounts of the event of Palestine
agree in the most perfect way. Thus, in the very fact that there are
four Gospels, a great lesson is given showing the necessity of a many
sided view if the truth is to be reached.
I have often spoken
of the possibility of there being different opinions held by
different individuals concerning truth. You will recall how at our
general meeting last year I supplemented what is generally called
“Theosophy” by another view which I described as the
“Anthroposophical view,” and explained how this was
related to Theosophy. I showed that there is an ordinary science
built on facts and the intelligent comprehensions of facts as
revealed to the senses, this when it deals with mankind is called
“Anthropology.” It contains everything that can be
discovered and investigated by means of the senses. It therefore
studies the human organisms as revealed by the instruments and
methods of natural science. It studies, for instance, the relics of
an earlier humanity, the utensils and instruments of civilisations
that have remained hidden within the earth, and seeks from these to
form some idea of how the human race has developed. It studies
further those stages of development found in savage or uncivilised
peoples; and from the conclusions arrived at traces the stages
civilised peoples have passed through in former ages. In this way
Anthropology forms its conceptions of what man has experienced up to
the present stage of development. Much more could be said regarding
the nature of Anthropology. I have compared it with a man who learns
of a country by walking about on the level, observing the features of
the land, its towns, forests, fields, etc., and describing these as
seen from this stand-point.
Now mankind can be observed
from a different standpoint — theosophical. All Theosophy begins by
defining man, by speaking of his being or nature. If you study my
“Outline of Occult Science”
you will see that everything is summed up and reaches its climax in
the description of the being of man himself. If Anthropology can be
compared with a man who gathers facts and tries to understand them by
walking about on the level, Theosophy can be compared with the
observer who climbs a mountain in order to observe the surrounding
country from its summit. Much that is spread out on the plain will
then fade and only certain features remain. So it is with spiritual
observation, with Theosophy. The point of view it takes regarding
spiritual matters is a higher one. It follows that many things seen
from this standpoint, and many of the ordinary human activities met
with in daily life fade away, just as villages and towns vanish when
seen from a mountain top.
What I have just said
may perhaps not seem very obvious to a beginner in Theosophy. For
what such a beginner first learns concerning the nature of man,
concerning the different principles of his being, physical body,
etheric body, astral body, etc., he tries to understand and form a
conception of, but at first he is far from the greater difficulties
which face him when he advances further in the acquisition of
Theosophical truths. The further one advances the more one realises
how infinitely difficult it is to find a connection between what has
been gained above, on the spiritual mountain top of Theosophy, and
what emerges in daily life as characteristic human feelings, ideas,
etc.
We might ask: —
Why do Theosophical truths seem obvious and right to many in spite of
their not being able to prove what is told them from the spiritual
mountain tops, or by what they have themselves seen? This is because
the human soul is really designed for truth, not for untruth; it is
so organised that it feels it natural when anything true is said.
There is a feeling for truth in man; and he should realise the
infinite value of this feeling. This is especially the case in our
day, for the very reason that the spiritual heights from which the
necessary truth can alone be seen are so infinitely high. If people
had first to climb these heights they would have to travel a long way
in spiritual experience, and those unable to do so would know nothing
of the value of these truths for human life. But every soul, are
these truths are imparted, can realise them and make them its
own.
What is the position
of a soul that receives these truths compared with one able to
discover them for itself? This can he shown by a quite trivial
example, but however trivial it means more than at first appears.
Everyone can pull on a boot, but not everyone can make a boot; for
this a bootmaker is necessary. What a man receives through the boot
does not depend on whether he can himself make it or not, but on
whether he makes use of it in the right way. This can be compared
exactly with the spiritual truths given to us by spiritual science.
We are summoned to make use of them, even though we are not able to
discover them for ourselves. And when through our own natural sense
of truth we accept and make use of them, they serve us for the
directing of our whole lives; through them we know that we are not
confined to life between birth and death, that we bear within us a
spiritual man, that we pass through repeated earthly lives, and so
on. We can make use of these truths. They serve us. Just as a boot
protects us from cold, so these truths shield us from spiritual cold,
from spiritual poverty. For it is a fact that we are chilled and
impoverished spiritually when we only think and feel those things
that have reference to the external world of the senses. We must
allow that the truths presented to us by those who can bring them
down from a higher standpoint can be of service to all, though there
may perhaps be only a few who can travel the spiritual path described
in recent lectures.
Now every glance into
the ordinary world around us — and which when it deals with man
is also the concern of Anthropology — shows us how this world
is itself the revealer of a world lying behind it, a world that can
be seen from the spiritually higher standpoint of Theosophy. Thus
even the world of the senses can reveal another world to us when we
pass on to its interpretation, when we not only receive the facts it
presents to us with our understanding, but begin to interpret these
facts. If we cannot see as far over the fields of the sense world as
Theosophy can, yet we can stand on the mountain side where the
various objects are not absolutely indistinct and some prospect is
possible. This standpoint in respect to spiritual things we have
called Anthroposophy, and in doing so have shown that there are three
ways of considering man — the anthropological, the
anthroposophical, and the theosophical.
We hope this year, in
connection with the General Assembly, to give lectures on
“Psychosophy,” these are important in other ways from
those given on “Anthroposophy”; I will then show how the
human soul can interpret things for itself from its own impressions
and experiences, and can participate in spiritual life in a similar
way as in Anthroposophy. And in a future course of lectures on
“Pnematosophy” I will bring these lectures to a
conclusion so that those dealing with Anthroposophy and with
Psychosophy will flow again into Theosophy. All this is for the
purpose of evoking in you a sense of the manifold nature of truth.
The experiences of one who seeks earnestly for truth is this: —
The further he goes the humbler he becomes, and also the more
cautious in translating the truths gained at a higher level into
words suited to ordinary life. Although, as was stated in the last
lecture, these truths are really only valuable when so translated, it
must be realised that the task of recalling and translating what has
been seen is one of the most difficult in the work of spiritual
science. To make what is seen on spiritual heights so clear to the
understanding, that sound logic and a healthy sense of truth can
accept and understand them presents the very greatest
difficulties.
I must lay stress
again and again on the fact that in the activities of our group we
are especially concerned with the creation of this feeling for, and
understanding of, truth. We do not concern ourselves only with the
comprehension of what is communicated to us from the spiritual world,
it is far more important that we should experience it sympathetically
through feeling, and by this means acquire those qualities that
should he possessed by all who strive earnestly in the theosophical
sense.
Looking at the world
that surrounds us we acknowledge that on every side it presents to us
the external expressions of an inner spiritual world. For us to-day
this is a worn out saying. Just as the human countenance expresses
what is passing in a man's soul, so the changing face of the
external world can be likened to the play of expressions on the
countenance of a living, spiritual world behind the sense world; and
we first understand physical events aright when we see in them the
expressions of a spiritual world. If a man has not yet been able to
reach those heights whence spiritual vision is possible by following
his own path of knowledge, he has at least the physical world before
him, and can ask himself: — Is not confirmation given me
through the evidences of my own senses of what is imparted to me as
the result of spiritual vision?
This search for
evidence is always possible, but it must be carried out not
lightheartedly but with precision. — If you have followed
different lectures given by me on spiritual science and have read my
“Outline of Occult Science”
you will realise that at one
period of the earth's development the earth was united with the
sun, that these formed one globe; the earth only separated from the
sun later. If you remember all you have heard or read you must allow
that the animal and plant forms found on the earth to-day are the
further development of those that existed at the time when the earth
and sun were one. But just as the animal forms of to-day are suited
to the present conditions of the earth, so the animal forms of that
far off time must have been suited to the planetary body which was
then both sun and earth. It follows from this that the animal forms
that have remained over from these times have not only remained over,
but are the continuation of creatures that existed formerly. There
are, for example, animals that still have no eyes, for eyes only have
meaning when there is light, such light as streams to earth from the
sun when it is outside. Thus among the various creatures of the
animal kingdom we find those that have formed eyes after the sun
separated from the earth, and also those that are relics of the time
when the earth was still united with the sun — that is animals
without eyes. Such animals would naturally belong to the lowest
types, and so they do. We find it stated in popular books that the
possession of eyes began at a certain stage of development. This
bears out what spiritual science tells us.
We are able in this
way to picture the world around us, in which we ourselves are placed,
as the facial expression of the living, weaving life of the spirit.
If we merely, considered the physical world, without it revealing to
us how it points to a spiritual world, we would never feel the urge,
the longing to develop towards that world. Some day a longing for
what is spiritual will be aroused in us by the surrounding world
itself, some day the spirit must stream down from the spiritual
realms as though a door or window that has opened into our everyday
world. When will this take place? When does spiritual illumination
stream directly into us? It takes place — and you have heard
this in many lectures from me and others — when we are in the
position to experience our ego.
The moment we
experience our ego, we experience something which is directly related
to the spiritual world. But what we experience is at the same time
in-finitely feeble; it is but a single point amid all the phenomena
of nature, the single point which we express by the little word
“I.” This word certainly describes something that was
originally spiritual, but a spirituality that has dwindled to a
single point. All the same what does this shrunken spiritual
spark teach us? We cannot learn more of the spiritual world through
the experience of our own ego than this ego-point contains, unless we
progress to interpretation. But this point possesses what is still
more important, namely, through it we are told how we are to
know, when we seek to know the spiritual world.
What is the
difference between the experiences of the ego and all other
experiences? The difference is that we are ourselves within the
ego-experiences. All other experiences approach us from outside; we
are not ourselves within them. Someone might say here: —
“But my thoughts, my will and desires, my preceptions, do these
not live within me?” A man can convince himself, through very
slight awareness of self, how little he is able to accomplish in
respect of dwelling within his will. We imagine that the will can he
recognised as that which urges us, as if we were not ourselves within
it, but as if in our actions we were compelled by someone or
something. This is the case also as regards our perceptions, and as
regards the greater part of what people think in daily life. We are
not really within these. How little we are within our thoughts in
ordinary life is seen when we carefully investigate how much ordinary
thought is dependent on education, and on what we have acquired at
one time or another, and on surrounding conditions. This is why the
ordinary content of human thinking; feeling and will varies so much
in different nations and at different epochs. One thing only is the
same. — One thing exists everywhere among men, and must be the
same in every nation in all parts of the earth and in every human
association — this is the experiencing of the single point, the
ego.
We may now ask:
— What does the experiencing of the ego-point mean? This is not
such a simple matter as you might suppose. One might easily think,
for example, that one experiences the ego itself. But this is not the
case at all. Man does not really experience his ego. What then does
he experience? He really experiences a concept of the ego,
a percept of it. If the experiencing of the ego was clearly
understood by us, it would present something that reached to
infinity, that spread out on all sides. If the ego were unable to
confront itself, to see itself as an image is seen in a mirror
— though this image is only experienced for a moment —
man could not experience his own ego, he could form no conception of
it. This is man's first experience of the ego, it has to
suffice him, for it is precisely this conception that differs from
all other conceptions. It differs from them in this, that other
conceptions resemble their original, they cannot differ from their
original; but when the ego forms a conception of itself it is
concerned with itself alone, and the conception is but what remains
behind of the ego-experience. It is like a checking or blocking of
it, as if we would check it in order to turn it back on itself, and
in this checking the ego is confronted by the reflected image of
itself which resembles the original. This is what occurs at the
experiencing of the ego.
We can therefore say:
— We recognise the ego in the conception of it
(Ich-vorstellung). But this ego conception differs considerably from
all other conceptions, from all other experiences. It differs from
them profoundly. For all other conceptions and all other experiences
we require something of the nature of an organ. This is clearly seen
in respect of sense-perception. In order to have the conception
colour we require eyes and so on; it is clear to anyone that in the
ordinary perception of the senses an organ is necessary. You might
think that no organ was required to perceive what is intimate to your
own inner Being, but even in this you can convince yourselves by
simple means that organs are necessary. This is dealt with more
particularly in my book
“Anthroposophy”;
here opportunity is given to approach by theosophical methods what there
is stated in a manner more suited to the generality. Let us suppose the
following — at some period of your lives you grasp a thought or
idea. You understand the idea that comes to you. By what means do you
understand it? Only through other ideas that you have previously
accepted. You realise this because you observe that one man
comprehends a new idea that comes to him in one way, another in
another way. This is because one man has within him a greater,
another a smaller sum of ideas which he has assimilated. The material
of old ideas is within us and confronts the new as the eye confronts
the light. Out of our own old ideas a kind of
“idea-organ” is constructed, and what we have not
constructed of this in our present incarnation must be sought in some
former one. There it was built up, and we are able to confront the
new ideas that come to us with an “organ of ideas.” We
require an organ for all the experiences that come to us from the
outer world, especially if these are of a spiritual nature. We never
stand spiritually naked as it were before what comes to us from the
outer world; but are ever dependant on what we have become. Only in a
single case do we confront the outer world directly, namely, when we
attain ego perception (Ich-wahrnehmung). The ego is present, even
when we sleep, but perception of it must always be aroused anew, it
must be roused anew each morning when we wake. Even supposing We
journeyed in the night to Mars, where our surroundings would be quite
different from what they are on earth, yet ego-perception would
remain the same! This latter under all conditions take place in the
same way because no external organ is required for it — not
even an “organ of ideas.” What confronts us here is a
direct conception (Vorstellung) of the ego; a conception or
perception (Wahrnehmung) certainly, but in its true form. Everything
else comes before as a picture seen in a mirror, and is restricted by
the form of the mirror. Ego-perceptions come before us absolutely in
their true form.
Put in another way
one might say: — When realising things with the ego, we are
ourselves within them; they cannot possibly be outside of us. We now
ask our-selves: — How do individual ego-conceptions or
ego-perceptions differ from all other perceptions by the ego? They
are distinguished by the direct impression they make on the ego, no
other perceptions make this direct impression. But we receive
pictures of all that surrounds us; and these in a certain sense can
be compared with ego-perceptions. Everything is changed by the ego
into an inner experience. The outer world must become our conception
if it is to have any meaning or value for us. We form true pictures
of the surrounding world, which then continue to live in the ego no
matter through which of the sense-organs they have come to us. We
smell a substance when we pass it by, and though we do not come in
direct contact with it we bear an image of it within us. In the same
way we bear within us the image of colours we have seen, and retain
pictures of them. The ego preserves such experiences. But if we wish
to describe the characteristic feature of these images we must say
— it is that they come to us from outside. All the pictures we
have been able to unite with our ego, so long as we are in the world
of the senses, are the relics of impressions we have received by
means of the senses.
One thing the
sense-world cannot give us — Ego-perception! This arises in us
spontaneously. Thus in ego-perception we have a picture that rises of
itself, however closely it may be confined to one point.
Think now of other
pictures being added to these, pictures that do not rise through
stimulation of the senses, but that rise freely in the ego (as
ego-conceptions do), and are therefore formed in the same manner as
the ego-conception. These arise in what we call the “Astral
world.” There are picture-concepts which arise in the ego
without our having received any impression from the outer world.
How do these inner
experiences differ from those other pictures we received from the
sense-world? We receive pictures of the sense-world by having come in
contact with that world; these then become inner impressions, but
impressions which have been stimulated from outside.
What are those
experiences of the ego which are not directly stimulated by the outer
world? We have these in our feelings, our wishes, impulses, instincts
and the like. These are not stimulated by the outer world. Even if we
do not stand within our feelings, wishes and impulses etc., by means
of the senses as already described, yet we must allow an element does
enter into our inner feelings, impulses, and desires. In what way do
these differ from the sense-pictures we bear within us as a result of
what our senses have perceived? You can feel this difference.
Pictures received through the senses quietly rest within us, and we
try to retain faithful reproductions of them once we have realised
our connection with the outer world. But our impulses, desires and
instincts are active in us, they represent a force. Though the outer
world has no part in the rise of astral pictures, yet the fact of
their appearing denotes a certain force. For what is not set going
(getrieben) is not there, it cannot arise.
In sense-pictures the
“initial force” is the impression received from the outer
world. In astral-pictures this force is what lies at the root of
desires, impulses, feelings, etc. Only, in life as it is to-day, man
is shielded from developing a force in his feelings and desires
sufficiently strong to evoke pictures — pictures that would be
experienced in the same way as those of the “I”
itself.
The most marked
feature of the human soul to-day is this powerlessness of its
instincts and desires to attain to forming pictures of what the ego
places before it. When the ego is confronted with the strong forces
of the outer world it is moved to form pictures. When it lives within
itself, it has, in the normal man, but one opportunity of perceiving
an emerging picture; that is when this picture is the picture of the
“I” itself.
Instincts and desires
do not work with sufficient strength to form pictures similar to this
single ego-experience. If they did they would have to acquire a
quality which every external sense-perception has. This quality is of
great moment. All sense-perceptions do not grant us the pleasure of
doing as we wish. If, for instance, someone lives in a room where
there is an unpleasant smell, he cannot dispel it through his
impulses and desires. He cannot change the colour of a flower from
yellow to red, because he prefers red, merely through his wish to do
so. It is characteristic of the sense-world that it remains entirely
independent of us. Our wishes and impulses affect it in no way. They
are directed altogether to our personal life. What then must happen
to them in order that they may he so greatly enhanced that we can
experience through them a world of pictures (Bilddasein)? They must
become like the external world, which in its construction and in the
pictures it calls forth in us does not follow our wishes, but
con-strains us to form pictures of the sense-world in accordance with
the world around us. If the pictures a man receives of the astral
world are to shape themselves aright, he must become as detached from
himself, from his own personal sympathies and antipathies, as he is
from the presentations of the outer world which come to him through
his senses. What he wishes or does not wish must not carry weight
with him in any way.
I mentioned in the
last lectures that this demand can be formulated as follows —
“One must not be egoistic.” This endeavour should not be
undertaken lightly, for it is by no means easy to be unegoistic.
There is another fact
I would like you to notice. The great difference between the interest
we feel in what comes to us from outside compared with what meets us
from within. The interest a man takes in his inner life is infinitely
greater than in anything the outer world brings him. We certainly
know that for many people the outer world when it has been changed
into pictures does occasionally have an effect on our subjective
feelings; we know people frequently “reckon something to be the
blue of heaven,” that they are even not lying but believe what
they say. Sympathy and antipathy always enter into such things,
people deceive themselves as to what actually comes from outside,
allowing it to be changed later into pictures. But these are
exceptional cases; for little progress would be made if men allowed
themselves to be deceived in daily life. Something in that case would
be out of harmony with external life. This would not help them, truth
has to be acknowledged as regards the external world; reality is the
corrective. It is the same with ordinary sense impressions; external
reality is here a good regulator. But when we begin to have inner
experiences reality is apt to fail us. It is not then so easy to
permit outer reality to make the necessary corrections, and we permit
ourselves to he ruled by sympathy and antipathy.
The thing of greatest
importance when we begin to approach the spiritual world is that we
learn to regard ourselves absolutely with the same
indifference with which we regard the outer world.
These truths were
formulated in a very strict way in the ancient Pythagorean schools,
as were also the truths regarding a most important part of
man's knowledge, that concerning immortality. How few there are
to-day who take any interest in the question of immortality! The
ordinary things of life are what men long for in the life beyond
birth and death. But this is a personal interest, a personal longing.
The breaking of a tumbler is a matter of small interest to you, but
if you had a personal interest in the continued existence of the
tumbler, even though broken, the same interest as you have in the
immortality of the human soul, you may be sure most people would
believe also in the immortality of the tumbler.
Therefore in the
schools of Pythagoras teaching concerning immortality was formulated
as follows: —
“Only that man
is ripe for understanding the truth concerning immortality, who could
also endure it if the opposite were true; if he could bear that the
question regarding immortality was answered with a ‘no.’
If a man is himself to bring down (selber ausmachen will) anything
from the spiritual world regarding immortality," so said the
Pythagoreans, "he must not long for immortality; for while there is
longing, what he says regarding it is not objective. Opinions
regarding the life beyond birth and death if they are to have any
value can only come from those who could lie down peacefully in the
grave even if there was no immortality.” This was taught in the
olden times in the Pythagorean schools when the teacher wished to
make his pupils realise how difficult it was to be sufficiently ripe
to accept any truth. To be ripe enough to receive a truth and to
state it from oneself requires a very special preparation, and must
consist in the person being entirely without interest in the said
truth. Now, it might well be said regarding immortality: —
“It is quite impossible that there should be many people who
are not interested in this, there cannot be many such.” People
not interested in immortality are those who are told of it and of the
eternal nature of human existence, and in spite of this remain
uninterested. To accept and make use of the statement concerning
reincarnation and human immortality so as to have something for life,
can be done by anyone who also accepts the truth without any
self-conviction. The fact that one is not sufficiently ripe to accept
a truth is no reason for rejecting it. On the contrary, it is being
ripe for what life requires of us, when we accept a truth and devote
our life to its service. What is the necessary counterpart to the
acceptance of truths? One may accept truths calmly even when one is
not ripe. But the necessary counter-part to the acceptance of them is
— that in the same measure as we long for truth that we may
have peace, contentment, and security in life, in the same measure we
make ourselves ripe for these truths, such truths as can only be
perfected in the spiritual world. An important precept for spiritual
life can be drawn from this — that we should accept everything,
making what use we can of it in life, but should be as distrustful as
possible regarding our presentments of truths, more especially of our
own astral experience. This establishes the fact that we must
specially guard against those astral experiences that come when we
reach the point where we are bound to feel interest, namely, when our
own life is under consideration.
Let us suppose that
someone through his astral experiences has become ripe enough to
carry out some-thing he destined to do next day, to experience next
day. It is a personal experience. He guards himself from
investigating the record of his personal life; for here he is bound
to be interested. People might for instance ask lightly: —
“Why does the clairvoyant not investigate the precise moment of
his own death?” He does not do so because this can never be
without interest to him, and he must hold himself aloof from anything
connected with his own personality. Only what is in no way, connected
with his own person may be investigated in the spiritual world.
Nothing whatever of objective value is transmitted where the
investigator is personally interested. He must be willing to confine
himself to what is of objective value only, he must never speak of
anything that concerns himself in his investigation, or in the
impressions he receives from the higher world. When matters arise
that concern himself he must be very certain that these are not
introduced through his own interest in them. It is exceedingly
difficult to investigate anything where the investigator's own
interests are concerned.
Thus at the beginning
of all endeavours to enter the spiritual world the following rule
must be laid to heart: — Nothing that affects oneself must be
sought for or considered valuable. The personality must be absolutely
excluded. I may add that the “exclusion of everything
personal” is exceedingly difficult, for frequently one thinks
one has done so, yet is mistaken! For this reason most of the astral
pictures seen by one or another are nothing more than a kind of
reflection of their own wishes and desires. So long as we are strong
enough in our spiritual self to say: — “You must distrust
your own spiritual experiences,” these do little harm. But the
moment the strength to do so fails and a man declares his experiences
to be of value to his life he begins to be unbalanced. It is just as
though a person wishing to enter a room finds no door and runs his
head against the wall. So the investigator must keep ever before him
the maxim: — Be very careful to test your own spiritual
experiences. This carefulness consists in setting no more value on
such experiences than on any piece of imparted knowledge or
enlightenment. We must not apply such knowledge to our own personal
life, but merely allow it to enlighten us. It is well if we feel in
regard to such experiences: — “You are only being given
enlightenment!” For in that case we are in a position as soon
as some contradictory idea enters, to correct it.
What I have said
to-day is but a part of the many things we shall be considering
during the coming winter, and can serve as an introduction to
lectures on the life of the human soul, entitled "Psychosophy," which
are to follow at a later date.
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