A SERIES OF LESSONS IN RAJA YOGA #7

THE SEVENTH LESSON.

THE UNFOLDMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS.


We have thought it well to make a slight change in the arrangement of
these lessons--that is, in the order in which they should appear. We had
contemplated making this Seventh Lesson a series of Mental Drills,
intended to develop certain of the mental faculties, but we have decided
to postpone the same until a later lesson, believing that by so doing a
more logical sequence or order of arrangement will be preserved. In this
lesson we will tell you of the unfoldment of consciousness in Man, and in
the next lesson, and probably in the one following it, we shall present
to you a clear statement regarding the states of mind, below and over
consciousness--a most wonderful region, we assure you, and one that has
been greatly misunderstood and misinterpreted. This will lead up to the
subject of the cultivation of the various faculties--both conscious and
outside of consciousness, and the series will be concluded by three
lessons going right to the heart of this part of the subject, and giving
certain rules and instruction calculated to develop Man's wonderful
"thought-machine" that will be of the greatest interest and importance
to all of our students. When the lessons are concluded you will see that
the present arrangement is most logical and proper.

In this lesson we take up the subject of "The Unfoldment of
Consciousness"--a most interesting subject. Many of us have been in the
habit of identifying "consciousness" with mind, but as we proceed with
this series of lessons we will see that that which is called
"consciousness" is but a small portion of the mind of the individual, and
even that small part is constantly changing its states, and unfolding new
states undreamed of.

"Consciousness" is a word we use very often in considering the science of
the Mind. Let us see what it means. Webster defines it as one's
"knowledge of sensations and mental operations, or of what passes in
one's own mind." Halleck defines it as "that undefinable characteristic
of mental states which causes one to be aware of them." But, as Halleck
states, "Consciousness is incapable of definition. To define anything we
are obliged to describe it in terms of something else. And there is
nothing else in the world like consciousness, hence we can define it only
in terms of itself, and that is very much like trying to lift one's self
by one's own boot straps. Consciousness is one of the greatest mysteries
that confronts us."

Before we can understand what Consciousness really is, we must know just
what "Mind" really is--and that knowledge is lacking, notwithstanding the
many injenious theories evolved in order to explain the mystery. The
metaphysicians do not throw much light on the subject, and as for
materialistic science, listen to what Huxley says: "How it comes about
that anything so remarkable as a state of consciousness comes about by
the result of irritating nervous tissue, is just as unaccountable as the
appearance of the genie when Aladdin rubbed his lamp."

To many persons the words "consciousness" and "mental process," or
"thought" are regarded as synonymous. And, in fact, psychologists so held
until quite recently. But now it is generally accepted as a fact that
mental processes are not limited to the field of consciousness, and it is
now generally taught that the field of sub-consciousness (that is,
"under" conscious) mentation, is of a much greater extent than that of
conscious mentation.

Not only is it true that the mind can hold in consciousness but one fact
at any one instant, and that, consequently, only a very small fraction of
our knowledge can be in consciousness at any one moment, but it is also
true that the consciousness plays but a very small part in the totality
of mental processes, or mentation. The mind is not conscious of the
greater portion of its own activities--Maudsley says that only ten per
cent comes into the field of consciousness. Taine has stated it in these
words: "Of the world which makes up our being, we only perceive the
highest points--the lighted up peaks of a continent whose lower levels
remain in the shade."

But it is not our intention to speak of this great subconscious region of
the mind at this point, for we shall have much to do with it later on. It
is mentioned here in order to show that the enlargement or development of
consciousness is not so much a matter of "growth" as it is an
"unfoldment"--not a new creation or enlargement from outside, but rather
an unfoldment outward from within.

From the very beginning of Life--among the Particles of Inorganic
Substance, may be found traces of something like Sensation, and response
thereto. Writers have not cared to give to this phenomenon the name of
"sensation," or "sensibility," as the terms savored too much of "senses,"
and "sense-organs." But Modern Science has not hesitated to bestow the
names so long withheld. The most advanced scientific writers do not
hesitate to state that in reaction, chemical response, etc., may be seen
indications of rudimentary sensation. Haeckel says: "I cannot imagine
the simplest chemical and physical process without attributing the
movement of the material particles to unconscious sensation. The idea of
Chemical Affinity consists in the fact that the various chemical elements
perceive the qualitative differences in other elements and experience
'pleasure' or 'revulsion' at contacts with them, and execute their
specific movements on this ground." He also speaks of the sensitiveness
of "plasm," or the substance of "living bodies," as being "only a
superior degree of the general irritability of substance."

Chemical reaction, between atoms, is spoken of by chemists as a
"sensitive" reaction. Sensitiveness is found even in the Particles of
Inorganic Substance, and may be regarded as the first glimmerings of
thought. Science recognizes this when it speaks of the unconscious
sensation of the Particles as _athesis_ or "feeling," and the unconscious
Will that responds thereto, as _tropesis_, or "inclination." Haeckel says
of this that "Sensation perceives the different qualities of the stimuli,
and feeling the quantity," and also, "We may ascribe the feeling of
pleasure and pain (in the contact with qualitatively differing atoms) to
all atoms, and so explain the elective affinity in chemistry (attraction
of loving atoms, inclination; repulsion of hating atoms,
disinclination)."

It is impossible to form a clear or intelligent idea of the phenomenon of
chemical affinity, etc., unless we attribute to the Atoms something akin
to Sensation. It is likewise impossible to understand the actions of the
Molecules, unless we think of them as possessing something akin to
Sensation. The Law of Attraction is based upon Mental States in
Substance. The response of Inorganic Substance to Electricity and
Magnetism is also another evidence of Sensation and the response thereto.

In the movements and operations of crystal-life we obtain evidences of
still a little higher forms of Sensation and response thereto. The action
of crystallization is very near akin to that of some low forms of plasmic
action. In fact, the "missing link" between plant life and the crystals
is claimed to have been found in some recent discoveries of Science, the
connection being found in certain crystals in the interior of plants
composed of carbon combinations, and resembling the inorganic crystals in
many ways.

Crystals grow along certain lines and forms up to a certain size. Then
they begin to form "baby-crystals" on their surfaces, which then take on
the growth--the processes being almost analogous to cell-life. Processes
akin to fermentation have been detected among chemicals. In many ways it
may be seen that the beginning of Mental Life must be looked for among
the Minerals and Particles--the latter, be it remembered, composing not
only inorganic, but also Organic Substance.

As we advance in the scale of life, we are met with constantly increasing
unfoldment of mentation, the simple giving place to the complex
manifestations. Passing by the simple vital processes of the monera, or
single-celled "things," we notice the higher forms of cell life, with
growing sensibility or sensation. Then we come to the cell-groups, in
which the individual cells manifest sensation of a kind, coupled with a
community-sensation. Food is distinguished, selected and captured, and
movements exercised in pursuit of the same. The living thing is beginning
to manifest more complex mental states. Then the stage of the lower
plants is reached, and we notice the varied phenomena of that region,
evidencing an increased sensitiveness, although there are practically no
signs of special organs of sense. Then we pass on to the higher plant
life, in which begin to manifest certain "sensitive-cells," or groups of
such cells, which are rudimentary sense organs. Then the forms of animal
life, and considered with rising degrees of sensations and growing sense
apparatus, or sense organs, gradually unfolding into something like
nervous systems.

Among the lower animal forms there are varying degrees of mentation with
accompanying nerve centers and sense-organs, but little or no signs of
consciousness, gradually ascending until we have dawning consciousness in
the reptile kingdom, etc., and fuller consciousness and a degree of
intelligent thought in the still higher forms, gradually increasing until
we reach the plane of the highest mammals, such as the horse, dog,
elephant, ape, etc., which animals have complex nervous systems, brains
and well developed consciousness. We need not further consider the forms
of mentation in the forms of life below the Conscious stage, for that
would carry us far from our subject.

Among the higher forms of animal life, after a "dawn period" or
semi-consciousness, we come to forms of life among the lower animals
possessing a well developed degree of mental action and Consciousness,
the latter being called by psychologists "Simple Consciousness," but
which term we consider too indefinite, and which we will term "Physical
Consciousness," which will give a fair idea of the thing itself. We use
the word "Physical" in the double sense of "External," and "Relating to
the material structure of a living being," both of which definitions are
found in the dictionaries. And that is just what Physical Consciousness
really is--an "awareness" in the mind, or a "consciousness" of the
"external" world as evidenced by the senses; and of the "body" of the
animal or person. The animal or person thinking on the plane of Physical
Consciousness (all the higher animals do, and many men seem unable to
rise much higher) identifies itself with the physical body, and is
conscious only of thoughts of that body and the outside world. It
"knows," but not being conscious of mental operations, or of the
existence of its mind, it does not "know that it knows." This form of
consciousness, while infinitely above the mentation of the nonconscious
plane of "sansation," is like a different world of thought from the
consciousness of the highly developed intellectual man of our age and
race.

It is difficult for a man to form an idea of the Physical Consciousness
of the lower animals and savages, particularly as he finds it difficult
to understand his own consciousness except by the act of being conscious.
But observation and reason have given us a fair degree of understanding
of what this Physical Consciousness of the animal is like--or at least in
what respect it differs from our own consciousness. Let us take a
favorite illustration. A horse standing out in the cold sleet and rain
undoubtedly _feels_ the discomfort, and possibly pain, for we know by
observation that animals feel both. But he is not able to analyze his
mental states and wonder when his master will come out to him--think how
cruel it is to keep him out of the warm stable--wonder whether he will be
taken out in the cold again tomorrow--feel envious of other horses who
are indoors--wonder why he is compelled to be out cold nights, etc.,
etc.,--in short, he does not think as would a reasoning man under such
circumstances. He is aware of the discomfort, just as would be the
man--and he would run home if he could just as would the man. But he is
not able to pity himself, nor to think about his personality as would
the man, nor does he wonder whether such a life is worth living, after
all. He "knows," but is not able to think of himself as knowing--he does
not "know that he knows," as we do. He experiences the physical pain and
discomfort, but is spared the mental discomfort and concern arising from
the physical, which man so often experiences.

The animal cannot shift its consciousness from the sensations of the
outer world to the inner states of being. It is not able to "know
itself." The difference may be clumsily illustrated by the example of a
man feeling, seeing or hearing something that gives him a pleasurable
sensation, or the reverse. He is conscious of the feeling or sensation,
and that it is pleasurable or otherwise. That is Physical Consciousness,
and the animal may share it with him. But it stops right there with the
animal. But the man may begin to wonder _why_ the sensation is
pleasurable and to associate it with other things and persons; or
speculate _why_ he dislikes it, what will follow, and so on--that is
Mental Consciousness, because he recognizes an inward self, and is
turning his attention _inward_. He may see another man and experience a
feeling or sensation of attraction or aversion--like or dislike. This is
Physical Consciousness, and an animal also may experience the sensation.
But the man goes further than the animal, and wonders just what there is
about the man he likes or detests, and may compare himself to the man and
wonder whether the latter feels as he does, and so on--this is Mental
Consciousness.

In animals the mental gaze is freely directed outward, and never returns
upon itself. In man the mental gaze may be directed inward, or may return
inward after its outward journey. The animal "knows"--the man not only
"knows," but he "knows that he knows," and is able to investigate that
"knowing" and speculate about it. We call this higher consciousness
Mental Consciousness. The operation of Physical Consciousness we call
Instinct--the operation of Mental Consciousness we call Reason.

The Man who has Mental Consciousness not only "feels" or "senses" things,
but he has words or mental concepts of these feelings and sensations and
may think of himself as experiencing them, separating himself, the
sensation or feeling, and the thing felt or sensed. The man is able to
think: "I feel; I hear; I see; I smell; I taste; I desire; I do," etc.,
etc. The very words indicate Mental Consciousness recognizing mental
states and giving them names, and also recognizing something called "I"
that experiences the sensations. This latter fact has caused
psychologists to speak of this stage as "Self-consciousness," but we
reserve this idea of the "I" consciousness for a higher stage.

The animal experiences something that gives it the impressions or feeling
that we call "pain," "hurt," "pleasant," "sweet," "bitter," etc., all
being forms of sensation, but it is unable to think of them in words.
The pain seems to be a part of itself, although possibly associated with
some person or thing that caused it. The study of the unfoldment of
consciousness in a young baby will give one a far better idea of the
grades and distinctions than can be obtained from reading mere words.

Mental Consciousness is a growth. As Halleck says, "Many persons never
have more than a misty idea of such a mental attitude. They always take
themselves for granted, and never turn the gaze inward." It has been
doubted whether the savages have developed Self-consciousness, and even
many men of our own race seem to be but little above the animals in
intellect and consciousness. They do not seem able to "know themselves"
even slightly. To them the "I" seems to be a purely physical thing--a
body having desires and feeling but little more. They are able to feel an
act, but scarcely more. They are not able to set aside any physical
"not--I," being utterly unable to think of themselves as anything else
but a Body. The "I" and the Body are one with them, and they seem
incapable of distinguishing between them.

Then comes another stage in which mental-consciousness proper sets in.
The man begins to realize that he has "a mind." He is able to "know
himself" as a mental being, and to turn the gaze inward a little. This
period of development may be noticed in young children. For a time
they speak of themselves as a third person, until finally they begin to
say "I." Then a little later comes the ability to know their own mental
states as such--they know that they have a mind, and are able to
distinguish between it and the body. It is related that some children
experience a feeling of terror when they pass into this stage. They
exhibit signs of bashfulness and what is commonly termed
"self-consciousness" in that sense. Some tell us in after years that when
they became aware of themselves as an entity they were overcome with
alarm, as if by a sense of loneliness and apartness from the Universe.
Young people often feel this way for several years. There seems to be a
distinct feeling that the Universe is antagonistic to and set apart from
them.

And, although this feeling of separateness and apartness grows less acute
as the man grows older, yet it is always present to a greater or less
degree until a still higher stage--the Ego-consciousness is reached, when
it disappears as we shall see. And this mental-conscious stage is a hard
one for many. They are entangled in a mass of mental states which the man
thinks is "himself," and the struggle between the real "I" and its
confining sheaths is painful. And it becomes still more painful as the
end is neared, for as man advances in mental-consciousness and knowledge
he feels more keenly and suffers accordingly. Man eats the fruit of the
Tree of Knowledge and begins to suffer, and is driven out of the Garden
of Eden of the child and primitive races, who live like the birds of the
air and concern themselves not about mental states and problems. But
there is deliverance ahead in the shape of a higher consciousness,
although but few realize it and still fewer have gained it. Perhaps this
lesson may point out the way for you.

With the birth of mental-consciousness comes the knowledge that there is
a mind in others. Man is able to speculate and reason about the mental
states of other men, because he recognizes these states within himself.
As man advances in the Mental Consciousness he begins to develop a
constantly increasing degree and grade of Intellect, and accordingly he
attaches the greatest importance to that part of his nature. Some men
worship Intellect as a God, ignoring its limitations which other thinkers
have pointed out. Such people are apt to reason that because the human
intellect (in its present state of development) reports that such a thing
_must_ be, or _cannot_ possibly be, that the matter is forever settled.
They ignore the fact that it is possible that Man's Intellect, in its
present state of unfoldment, may be able to take cognizance of only a
very small part of the Universal Fact, and that there may be regions upon
regions of Reality and Fact of which he cannot even dream, so far are
they removed from his experience. The unfoldment of a new sense would
open out a new world and might bring to light facts that would completely
revolutionize our entire world of conceptions by reason of the new
information it would give us.

But, nevertheless, from this Mental Consciousness has come the wonderful
work of Intellect, as shown in the achievements of Man up to this time,
and while we must recognize its limitations, we gladly join in singing
its praises. Reason is the tool with which Man is digging into the mine
of Facts, bringing to light new treasures every day. This stage of Mental
Consciousness is bringing to Man knowledge of himself--knowledge of the
Universe--that is well worth the price he pays for it. For Man _does_ pay
a price for entrance into this stage--and he pays an increasing price as
he advances in its territory, for the higher he advances the more keenly
he feels and suffers, as well as enjoys. Capacity for pain is the price
Man pays for Attainment, up to a certain stage. His pain passes from the
Physical to the Mental consciousness, and he becomes aware of problems
that he never dreamt existed, and the lack of an intelligent answer
produces mental suffering. And the mental suffering that comes to him
from unsatisfied longings, disappointment, the pain of others whom he
loves, etc., is far worse than any physical suffering.

The animal lives its animal life and is contented, for it knows no
better. If it has enough to eat--a place to sleep--a mate--it is happy.
And some men are likewise. But others find themselves involved in a world
of mental discomfort. New wants arise, and the lack of satisfaction
brings pain. Civilization becomes more and more complex, and brings its
new pains as well as new pleasures. Man attaches himself to "things," and
each day creates for himself artificial wants, which he must labor to
meet. His Intellect may not lead him upward, but instead may merely
enable him to invent new and subtle means and ways of gratifying his
senses to a degree impossible to the animals. Some men make a religion of
the gratification of their sensuality--their appetites--and become beasts
magnified by the power of Intellect. Others become vain, conceited and
puffed up with a sense of the importance of their Personality (the false
"I"). Others become morbidly introspective, and spend their time
analyzing and dissecting their moods, motives, feelings, etc. Others
exhaust their capacity for pleasure and happiness, but looking outside
for it instead of within, and become _blase_, bored, _ennuied_ and an
affliction to themselves We mention these things not in a spirit of
Pessimism but merely to show that even this great Mental Consciousness
has a reverse and ugly side as well as the bright face that has been
ascribed to it.

As man reaches the higher stages of this Mental Consciousness, and the
next higher stage begins to dawn upon him, he is apt to feel more keenly
than ever the insufficiency of Life as it appears to him. He is unable to
understand Himself--his origin, destiny, purpose and nature--and he
chafes against the bars of the cage of Intellect in which he is confined.
He asks himself the question, "Whence come I--Whither go I--What is the
object of my Existence?" He becomes dissatisfied with the answers the
world has to give him to these questions, and he cries aloud in
despair--and but the answer of his own voice comes back to him from the
impassable walls with which he is surrounded. He does not realize that
his answer must come from Within--but so it is.

Psychology stops when it reaches the limits of Mental Consciousness, or
as it calls it "Self-Consciousness," and denies that there is anything
beyond--any unexplored regions of the Mind. It laughs at the reports that
come from those who have penetrated farther within the recesses of their
being, and dismisses the reports as mere "dreams," "fantasies,"
"illusions," "ecstatic imaginings," "abnormal states," etc., etc.
But, nevertheless, there are schools of thought that teach of these
higher states, and there are men of all ages and races that have entered
them and have reported concerning them. And we feel justified in asking
you to take them into consideration.

There are two planes of Consciousness, of which we feel it proper to
speak, for we have obtained more or less information regarding them.
There are still higher planes, but they belong to higher phases of life
than are dealt with here.

The first of these planes or states of Consciousness, above the
"Self-Consciousness" of the psychologists (which we have called "Mental
Consciousness") may be called "Ego-consciousness," for it brings an
"awareness" of the Reality of the Ego. This "awareness" is far above the
Self-consciousness of the man who is able to distinguish "I" from "You,"
and to give it a name. And far above the consciousness that enables a
man, as he rises in the scale, to distinguish the "I" from faculty after
faculty of the mind, which he is able to recognize as "not--I," until he
finds left a mental something that he cannot set aside, which he calls
"I"--although this stage alone is very much higher than that of the
average of the race, and is a high degree of Attainment itself. It is
akin to this last stage, and yet still fuller and more complete. In
the dawning of Ego Consciousness the "I" recognizes itself still more
clearly and, more than this, is fully imbued with a sense and "awareness"
of its own _Reality_, unknown to it before. This awareness is not a mere
matter of reasoning--it is a "consciousness," just as is Physical
Consciousness and Mental Consciousness something different from an
"intellectual conviction." It is a Knowing, not a Thinking or Believing.
The "I" _knows_ that it is Real--that it has its roots in the Supreme
Reality underlying all the Universe, and partakes of its Essence. It does
not know what this Reality is, but it knows that it is Real, and
something different from anything in the world of name, form, number,
time, space, cause and effect--something Transcendental and surpassing
all human experience. And knowing this, it knows that it cannot be
destroyed or hurt; cannot die, but is immortal; and that there is
Something which is the very essence of Good behind of, underneath and
even _in_ itself. And in this certainty and consciousness is there Peace,
Understanding and Power. When it fully bursts upon one, Doubt, Fear,
Unrest and Dissatisfaction drop from him like wornout garments and he
finds himself clothed in the Faith that Knows; Fearlessness; Restfulness;
Satisfaction. Then he is able to say understandingly and with meaning "I
AM."

This Ego Consciousness is coming to many as a dawning knowledge--the
light is just rising from behind the hills. To others it has come
gradually and slowly, but fully, and they now live in the full light of
the consciousness. Others it has burst upon like a flash, or vision--like
a light falling from the clear sky, almost blinding them at first, but
leaving them changed men and women, possessed of that something that
cannot be understood by or described to those who have not experienced
it. This last stage is called "Illumination" in one of its forms.

The man of the Ego Consciousness may not understand the Riddle of the
Universe or be able to give an answer to the great Questions of Life--but
he has ceased to worry about them--they now disturb him not. He may use
his intellect upon them as before, but never with the feeling that in
their intellectual solution rests his happiness or peace of mind. He
knows that he stands on solid rock, and though the storms of the world of
matter and force may beat upon him, he will not be hurt. This and other
things he knows. He cannot prove these things to others, for they are not
demonstrable by argument--he himself did not get them in that way. And so
he says but little about it--but lives his life as if he knew them not,
so far as outward appearances go. But inwardly he is a changed man--his
life is different from that of his brothers, for while their souls are
wrapped in slumber or are tossing in troubled dreams, his Soul has
awakened and is gazing upon the world with bright and fearless eyes.
There are, of course, different stages or degrees of this Consciousness,
just as there are in the lower planes of consciousness. Some have it to a
slight degree, while others have it fully. Perhaps this lesson will tell
some of its readers just what is the thing that has "happened" to them
and which they hesitate to speak of to their closest friend or life
companion. To others it may open the way to a fuller realization. We
sincerely trust so, for one does not begin to Live until he knows the "I"
as Reality.

There is a stage still higher than this last mentioned but it has come to
but very few of the race. Reports of it come from all times, races,
countries. It has been called "Cosmic Consciousness," and is described as
an awareness of the Oneness of Life--that is, a consciousness that the
Universe is filled with One Life--an actual perception and "awareness"
that the Universe is full of Life, Motion and Mind, and that there is
no such thing as Blind Force, or Dead Matter, but that All is alive,
vibrating and intelligent. That is, of course, that the _Real Universe_,
which is the Essence or background of the Universe of Matter, Energy and
Mind, is as they describe. In fact, the description of those who have had
glimpses of this state would indicate that they see the Universe as All
Mind--that All is Mind at the last. This form of consciousness has been
experienced by men here and there--only a few--in moments of
"Illumination," the period lasting but a very short space of time, then
fading away, leaving but a memory. In the moment of the "Illumination"
there came to those experiencing it a sense of "intouch-ness" with
Universal Knowledge and Life, impossible to describe, accompanied by a
Joy beyond understanding.

Regarding this last, "Cosmic Consciousness," we would state that it means
more than an intellectual conviction, belief or realization of the facts
as stated, for an actual _vision_ and _consciousness_ of these things
came in the moment of Illumination. Some others report that they have a
deep abiding sense of the reality of the facts described by the report of
the Illumined, but have not experienced the "vision" or ecstasy referred
to. These last people seem to have with them always the same mental state
as that possessed by those who had the "vision" and passed out of it,
carrying with them the remembrance and feeling, but not the actual
consciousness attained at the moment. They agree upon the essential
particulars of the reports. Dr. Maurice Bucke, now passed out of this
plane of life, wrote a book entitled "Cosmic Consciousness," in which he
describes a number of these cases, including his own, Walt Whitman's and
others, and in which he holds that this stage of consciousness is before
the race and will gradually come to it in the future. He holds that the
manifestation of it which has come to some few of the race, as above
stated, is but the first beams of the sun which are flashing upon us and
which are but prophecies of the appearance of the great body of light
itself.

We shall not here consider at length the reports of certain great
religious personages of the past, who have left records that in moments
of great spiritual exaltation they became conscious of "being in the
presence of the Absolute," or perhaps within the radius of "the light of
Its countenance." We have great respect for these reports, and have every
reason for believing many of them authentic, notwithstanding the
conflicting reports that have been handed down to us by those
experiencing them. These reports are conflicting because of the fact that
the minds of those who had these glimpses of consciousness were not
prepared or trained to fully understand the nature of the phenomena. They
found themselves in the spiritual presence of Something of awful grandeur
and spiritual rank, and were completely dazed and bewildered at the
sight. They did not understand the nature of the Absolute, and when they
had sufficiently recovered they reported that they had been in the
"presence of God"--the word "God" meaning their particular conception
of Deity--that is, the one appearing as Deity in their own particular
religious creed or school. They saw nothing to cause them to identify
this Something with their particular conception of Deity, except that
they thought that "it _must_ be God," and knowing no other God except
their own particular conception, they naturally identifying the Something
with "God" as they conceived Him to be. And their reports naturally
were along these lines.

Thus the reports of all religions are filled with accounts of the
so-called miraculous occurrences. The Catholic saint reports that he "saw
of light of God's countenance," and the non-Catholic reports likewise
regarding God as he knows him. The Mohammedan reports that he caught a
glimpse of the face of Allah, and the Buddhist tells us that he saw
Buddha under the tree. The Brahman has seen the face of Brahma, and the
various Hindu sects have men who give similar reports regarding their own
particular deities. The Persians have given similar reports, and even the
ancient Egyptians have left records of similar occurrences. These
conflicting reports have led to the belief, on the part of those who did
not understand the nature of the phenomena, that these things were "all
imagination" and fancy, if indeed not rank falsehood and imposture. But
the Yogis know better than this. They know that underneath all these
varying reports there is a common ground of truth, which will be apparent
to anyone investigating the matter. They know that all of these reports
(except a few based upon fraudulent imitation of the real phenomenon)
are based upon truth and are but the bewildered reports of the various
observers. They know that these people were temporarily lifted above the
ordinary plane of consciousness and were made aware of the existence of a
Being or Beings higher than mortal. It does not follow that they saw
"God" or the Absolute, for there are many Beings of high spiritual growth
and development that would appear to the ordinary mortal as a very God.
The Catholic doctrine of Angels and Arch-angels is corroborated by those
among the Yogis who have been "behind the Veil," and they give us reports
of the "Devas" and other advanced Beings. So the Yogi accepts these
reports of the various mystics, saints and inspired ones, and accounts
for them all by laws perfectly natural to the students of the Yogi
Philosophy, but which appear as supernatural to those who have not
studied along these lines.

But we cannot speak further of this phase of the subject in this lesson,
for a full discussion of it would lead us far away from the phase of the
general subject before us. But we wish to be understood as saying that
there are certain centers in the mental being of Man from which may come
light regarding the existence of the Absolute and higher order of Beings.
In fact, from these centers come to man that part of his mental
"feelings" that he calls "the religious instinct or intuition." Man does
not arrive at that underlying consciousness of "Something Beyond" by
means of his Intellect--it is the glimmer of light coming from the higher
centers of the Self. He notices these gleams of light, but not
understanding them, he proceeds to erect elaborate theological and
creedal structures to account for them, the work of the Intellect,
however, always lacking that "feeling" that the intuition itself
possesses. True religion, no matter under what name it may masquerade,
comes from the "heart" and is not comforted or satisfied with these
Intellectual explanations, and hence comes that unrest and craving for
satisfaction which comes to Man when the light begins to break through.

But we must postpone a further discussion of this part of the subject for
the present. We shall consider it again in a future lesson in connection
with other matters. As we have said, our next two lessons will take upon
the inquiry regarding the regions outside of the consciousness of the
ordinary man. You will find it a most fascinating and instructive inquiry
and one that will open up new fields of thought for many of you.


MANTRAM (AFFIRMATION.)

I Am a Being far greater and grander than I have as yet conceived. I am
unfolding gradually but surely into higher planes of consciousness. I am
moving Forward and Upward constantly. My goal is the Realization of the
True Self, and I welcome each stage of Unfoldment that leads me toward my
aim. I am a manifestation of REALITY. I _AM_.

A SERIES OF LESSONS IN RAJA YOGA #6

THE SIXTH LESSON.

CULTIVATION OF PERCEPTION.


Man gains his knowledge of the outside world through his senses. And,
consequently, many of us are in the habit of thinking of these senses as
if _they_ did the sensing, instead of being merely carriers of the
vibrations coming from the outside world, which are then presented to the
Mind for examination. We shall speak of this at greater length a little
later on in this lesson. Just now we wish to impress upon you the fact
that it is the Mind that perceives, not the senses. And, consequently, a
development of Perception is really a development of the Mind.

The Yogis put their students through a very arduous course of practice
and exercises designed to develop their powers of perception. To many
this would appear to be merely a development of the Senses, which might
appear odd in view of the fact that the Yogis are constantly preaching
the folly of being governed and ruled by the senses. But there is nothing
paradoxical about all this, for the Yogis, while preaching the folly of
sense life, and manifesting the teaching in their lives, nevertheless
believe in any and all exercises calculated to "sharpen" the Mind, and
develop it to a keen state and condition.

They see a great difference between having a sharpened perception, on the
one hand, and being a slave to the senses on the other. For instance,
what would be thought of a man who objected to acquiring a keen eyesight,
for fear it would lead him away from higher things, by reason of his
becoming attached to the beautiful things he might see. To realize the
folly of this idea, one may look at its logical conclusion, which would
be that one would then be much better off if all their senses were
destroyed. The absurdity, not to say wickedness, of such an idea will be
apparent to everyone, after a minute's consideration.

The secret of the Yogi theory and teachings regarding the development of
the Mental powers, lies in the word "_Mastery_." The Yoga student
accomplishes and attains this mastery in two ways. The first way is by
subordinating all the feelings, sense-impressions, etc., to the Mastery
of the "I," or Will, the Mastery being obtained in this way by the
assertion of the dominancy of the "I" over the faculties and emotions,
etc. The second step, or way, lies in the Yogi, once having asserted the
mastery, beginning to develop and perfect the Mental instrument, so as to
get better work and returns from it. In this way he increases his kingdom
and is Master over a much larger territory.

In order for one to gain knowledge, it is necessary to use to the best
advantage the mental instruments and tools that he finds at his disposal.
And again, one must develop and improve such tools--put a keen edge upon
them, etc. Not only does one gain a great benefit from a development of
the faculties of perception, but he also acquires an additional benefit
from the training of the whole mind arising from the mental discipline
and training resulting from the former exercises, etc. In our previous
lessons we have pointed out some of the means by which these faculties
might be greatly improved, and their efficiency increased. In this lesson
we shall point out certain directions in which the Perceptive faculties
may be trained. We trust that the simplicity of the idea may not cause
any of our students to lose interest in the work. If they only knew just
what such development would lead to they would gladly follow our
suggestions in the matter. Every one of the ideas and exercises given by
us are intended to lead up to the strengthening of the Mind, and the
attainment of powers and the unfoldment of faculties. There is no royal
road to Raja Yoga, but the student will be well repaid for the work of
climbing the hill of Attainment.

In view of the above, let us examine the question of The Senses. Through
the doors of the senses Man receives all his information regarding the
outside world. If he keeps these doors but half open, or crowded up with
obstacles and rubbish, he may expect to receive but few messages from
outside. But if he keeps his doorways clear, and clean, he will obtain
the best that is passing his way.

If one were born without sense-organs--no matter how good a Mind he might
have--he would be compelled to live his life in a dreamy plant-life stage
of existence, with little or no consciousness. The Mind would be like a
seed in the earth, that for some reason was prevented from growing.

One may object that the highest ideas do not come to us through the
senses, but the reply is that the things obtained through the senses are
the "raw material" upon which the mind works, and fashions the beautiful
things that it is able to produce in its highest stages. Just as is the
body dependent for growth upon the nourishment taken into it, so is the
mind dependent for growth upon the impressions received from the
Universe--and these impressions come largely through the senses. It may
be objected to that we know many things that we have not received through
our senses. But, does the objector include the impressions that came
through his senses in some previous existence, and which have been
impressed upon his instinctive mind, or soul-memory? It is true that
there are higher senses than those usually recognized, but Nature insists
upon one learning the lessons of the lower grades before attempting those
of the higher.

Do not forget that all that we know we have "worked for." There is
nothing that comes to the idler, or shirker. What we know is merely the
result of "stored-up accumulations of previous experience," as Lewes has
so well said.

So it will be seen that the Yogi idea that one should develop all parts
of the Mind is strictly correct, if one will take the trouble to examine
into the matter. A man sees and knows but very little of what is going
on about him. His limitations are great. His powers of vision report only
a few vibrations of light, while below and above the scale lie an
infinity of vibrations unknown to him. The same is true of the powers of
hearing, for only a comparatively small portion of the sound-waves reach
the Mind of Man--even some of the animals hear more than he does.

If a man had only one sense he would obtain but a one-sense idea of the
outside world. If another sense is added his knowledge is doubled. And so
on. The best proof of the relation between increased sense perception and
development is had in the study of the evolution of animal forms. In the
early stages of life the organism has only the sense of feeling--and very
dim at that--and a faint sense of taste. Then developed smell, hearing
and sight, each marking a distinct advance in the scale of life, for a
new world has been opened out to the advancing forms of life. And, when
man develops new senses--and this is before the race--he will be a much
wiser and greater being.

Carpenter, many years ago, voiced a thought that will be familiar to
those who are acquainted with the Yogi teachings regarding the unfoldment
of new senses. He said: "It does not seem at all improbable that there
are properties of matter of which none of our senses can take immediate
cognizance, and which other beings might be formed to perceive in the
same manner as we are sensible to light, sound, etc."

And Isaac Taylor said: "It may be that within the field observed by the
visible and ponderable universe there is existing and moving another
element fraught with another species of life--corporeal, indeed, and
various in its orders, but not open to cognizance of those who are
confined to the conditions of animal organization. Is it to be thought
that the eye of man is the measure of the Creator's power?--and that He
created nothing but that which he has exposed to our present senses? The
contrary seems much more than barely possible; ought we not to think it
almost certain?"

Another writer. Prof. Masson, has said: "If a new sense or two were added
to the present normal number, in man, that which is now the phenomenal
world for all of us might, for all that we know, burst into something
amazingly different and wider, in consequence of the additional
revelations of these new senses."

But not only is this true, but Man may increase his powers of knowledge
and experience if he will but develop the senses he has to a higher
degree of efficiency, instead of allowing them to remain comparatively
atrophied. And toward this end, this lesson is written.

The Mind obtains its impressions of objects of the outside world by means
of the brain and sense organs. The sensory organs are the instruments of
the Mind, as is also the brain and the entire nervous system. By means of
the nerves, and the brain, the Mind makes use of the sensory organs in
order that it may obtain information regarding external objects.

The senses are usually said to consist of five different forms, _viz._,
sight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste.

The Yogis teach that there are higher senses, undeveloped, or
comparatively so, in the majority of the race, but toward the unfoldment
of which the race is tending. But we shall not touch upon these latent
senses in this lesson, as they belong to another phase of the subject. In
addition to the five senses above enumerated, some physiologists and
psychologists have held that there were several others in evidence. For
instance, the sense by which the inner organs revealed their presence and
condition, The muscular system reports to the mind through some sense
that is not that of "touch," although closely allied to it. And the
feelings of hunger, thirst, etc., seem to come to us through an unnamed
sense.

Bernstein has distinguished between the five senses and the one just
referred to as follows: "The characteristic distinction between these
common sensations and the sensations of the senses is that by the latter
we gain knowledge of the occurrences and objects which belong to the
external world (and which sensations we refer to external objects),
whilst by the former we only feel conditions of our own body."

A sensation is the internal, mental conception, resulting from an
external object or fact exciting the sense organs and nerves, and the
brain, thus making the mind "aware" of the external object or fact. As
Bain has said, it is the "mental impression, feeling, or conscious state,
resulting from the action of external things on some part of the body,
called on that account, sensitive."

Each channel of sense impressions has an organ, or organs, peculiarly
adapted for the excitation of its substance by the particular kind of
vibrations through which it receives impressions. The eye is most
cunningly and carefully designed to receive the light-waves; and
sound-waves produce no effect upon it. And, likewise, the delicate
mechanism of the ear responds only to sound-waves; light-waves failing to
register upon it. Each set of sensations is entirely different, and the
organs and nerves designed to register each particular set are peculiarly
adapted to their own special work. The organs of sense, including their
special nervous systems, may be compared to a delicate instrument that
the mind has fashioned for itself, that it may investigate, examine and
obtain reports from the outside world.

We have become so accustomed to the workings of the senses that we take
them as a "matter of course," and fail to recognize them as the delicate
and wonderful instruments that they are--designed and perfected by the
mind for its own use. If we will think of the soul as designing,
manufacturing and using these instruments, we may begin to understand
their true relations to our lives, and, accordingly treat them with more
respect and consideration.

We are in the habit of thinking that we are aware of all the sensations
received by our mind. But this is very far from being correct. The
unconscious regions of the mind are incomparably larger than the small
conscious area that we generally think of when we say "my mind." In
future lessons we shall proceed to consider this wonderful area, and
examine what is to be found there. Taine has well said, "There is going
on within us a subterranean process of infinite extent; its products
alone are known to us, and are only known to us in the mass. As to
elements, and their elements, consciousness does not attain to them. They
are to sensations what secondary molecules and primitive molecules are to
bodies. We get a glance here and there at obscure and infinite worlds
extending beneath our distinct sensations. These are compounds and
wholes. For their elements to be perceptible to consciousness, it is
necessary for them to be added together, and so to acquire a certain bulk
and to occupy a certain time, for if the group does not attain this bulk,
and does not last this time, we observe no changes in our state.
Nevertheless, though it escapes us, there is one."

But we must postpone our consideration of this more than interesting
phase of the subject, until some future lesson, when we shall take a trip
into the regions of Mind, under and above Consciousness. And a most
wonderful trip many of us will find it, too.

For the present, we must pay our attention to the channels by which the
material for knowledge and thought enter our minds. For these sense
impressions, coming to us from without, are indeed "material" upon which
the mind works in order to manufacture the product called "Thought."

This material we obtain through the channels of the senses, and then
store in that wonderful storehouse, the Memory, from whence we bring out
material from time to time, which we proceed to weave into the fabric of
Thought. The skill of the worker depends upon his training, and his
ability to select and combine the proper materials. And the acquiring of
good materials to be stored up is an important part of the work.

A mind without stored-up material of impressions and experiences would be
like a factory without material. The machinery would have nothing upon
which to work, and the shop would be idle. As Helmholtz has said,
"Apprehension by the senses supplies directly or indirectly, the material
of all human knowledge, or at least the stimulus necessary to develop
every inborn faculty of the mind." And Herbert Spencer, has this to say
of this phase of the subject, "It is almost a truism to say that in
proportion to the numerousness of the objects that can be distinguished,
and in proportion to the variety of coexistences and sequences that can
be severally responded to, must be the number and rapidity and variety of
the changes within the organism--must be the amount of vitality."

A little reflection upon this subject will show us that the greater
degree of exercise and training given the senses, the greater the degree
of mental power and capability. As we store our mental storehouse with
the materials to be manufactured into thought, so is the quality and
quantity of the fabric produced.

It therefore behooves us to awaken from our "lazy" condition of mind, and
to proceed to develop our organs of sense, and their attendant mechanism,
as by doing so we increase our capacity for thought and knowledge.

Before passing to the exercises, however, it may be well to give a hasty
passing glance at the several senses, and their peculiarities.

The sense of Touch is the simplest and primal sense. Long before the
lower forms of life had developed the higher senses, they had evidenced
the sense of Touch or Feeling. Without this sense they would have been
unable to have found their food, or to receive and respond to outside
impressions. In the early forms of life it was exercised equally by all
parts of the body, although in the higher forms this sense has become
somewhat localized, as certain parts of the body are far more sensitive
than are others. The skin is the seat of the sense of Touch, and its
nerves are distributed over the entire area of the skin. The hand, and
particularly the fingers, and their tips, are the principal organs of
this sense.

The acuteness of Touch varies materially in different parts of the body.
Experiments have shown that a pair of compasses would register
impressions as a very slight distance apart when applied to the tip of
the tongue. The distance at which the two points could be distinguished
from one point, on the tip of the tongue, was called "one line." Using
this "line" as a standard, it was found that the palmar surface of the
third finger registered 2 lines; the surface of the lips 4 lines, and the
skin of the back, and on the middle of the arm or thigh, as high as 60
lines The degree of sensitiveness to Touch varies greatly with different
individuals, some having a very fine sense of touch in their fingers,
while others manifested a very much lower degree.

In the same way, there is a great difference in the response of the
fingers to weight--a great difference in the ability to distinguish the
difference of the weight of objects. It has been found that some people
can distinguish differences in weight down to very small fractions of an
ounce. Fine distinctions in the differences in temperature have also been
noticed.

The sense of touch, and its development has meant much for Man. It is the
one sense in which Man surpasses the animals in the matter of degree and
acuteness. The animal may have a keener smell, taste, hearing and sight,
but its sense of Touch is far beneath that of Man. Anaxagoras is quoted
as saying that "if the animals had hands and fingers, they would be like
men."

In developing the sense of Touch, the student must remember that
Attention is the key to success. The greater the amount of Attention the
greater the degree of development possible in the case of any sense.
When the Attention is concentrated upon any particular sense, the latter
becomes quickened and more acute, and repeated exercise, under the
stimulus of Attention, will work wonders in the case of any
particular sense. And on the other hand, the sense of touch may be
almost, or completely inhibited, by firmly fixing the Attention upon
something else. As an extreme proof of this latter fact, the student
is asked to remember the fact that men have been known to suffer
excruciating torture, apparently without feeling, owing to the mind being
intently riveted upon some idea or thought. As Wyld has said, "The martyr
borne above sensuous impressions, is not only able to endure tortures,
but is able to endure and quench them. The pinching and cutting of the
flesh only added energy to the death song of the American Indian, and
even the slave under the lash is sustained by the indignant sense of his
wrongs."

In the cases of persons engaged in occupations requiring a fine degree of
Touch, the development is marvelous. The engraver passes his hand over
the plate, and is able to distinguish the slightest imperfection. And the
handler of cloth and fabrics is able to distinguish the finest
differences, simply by the sense of touch. Wool sorters also exercise a
wonderfully high degree of fineness of touch. And the blind are able to
make up for the loss of sight by their greatly increased sense of Touch,

cases being recorded where the blind have been able to distinguish
_color_ by the different "feel" of the material.

The sense of Taste is closely allied to that of Touch--in fact some
authorities have considered Taste as a very highly developed sense of
Touch in certain surfaces of the body, the tongue notably. It will be
remembered that the tongue has the finest sense of Touch, and it also has
the sense of Taste developed to perfection. In Taste and Touch the object
must be brought in direct contact with the organ of sense, which is not
the case in Smell, Hearing, or Sight. And, be it remembered, that the
latter senses have special nerves, while Taste is compelled to fall back
upon the ordinary nerves of Touch. It is true that Taste is confined to a
very small part of the surface of the body, while Touch is general. But
this only indicates a special development of the special area. The sense
of Taste also depends to a great extent upon the presence of fluids, and
only substances that are soluble make their presence known through the
organs and sense of Taste.

Physiologists report that the sense of Taste in some persons is so
acute that one part of strychnine in one million parts of water has
been distinguished. There are certain occupations, such as that of
wine-tasters, tea-tasters, etc., the followers of which manifest a
degree of fineness of Taste almost incredible.

The sense of Smell is closely connected with the sense of Taste, and
often acts in connection therewith, as the tiny particles of the
substance in the mouth arise to the organs of Smell, by means of the
opening or means of communication situated in the back part of the mouth.
Besides which the nose usually detects the odor of substances before they
enter the mouth. The sense of Smell operates by reason of the tiny
particles or the object being carried to the mucous membrane of the
interior of the nose, by means of the air. The membrane, being moist,
seizes and holds these particles for a moment, and the fine nervous
organism reports differences and qualities and the Mind is thus informed
of the nature of the object.

The sense of Smell is very highly developed among animals, who are
compelled to rely upon it to a considerable extent. And many occupations
among men require the development of this sense, for instance, the
tobacconist, the wine dealer, the perfumers, the chemist, etc. It is
related that in the cases of certain blind people, it has been observed
that they could distinguish persons in this manner.

The sense of Hearing is a more complex one than in the case of Taste,
Touch and Smell. In the latter three the objects to be sensed must be
brought in close contact with the sense-organs, while in Hearing the
object may be far removed, the impressions being carried by the
vibrations of the air, which are caught up and reported upon by the
nervous organism of the sense of Hearing. The internal mechanism of
the ear is most wonderfully intricate and complex, and excites to wonder
the person examining it. It cannot be described here for want of space,
but the student is advised to inquire into it if he has access to any
library containing books on the subject. It is a wonderful illustration
of the work of the mind in building up for itself instruments with which
to work--to acquire knowledge.

The ear records vibrations in the air from 20 or 32 per second, the rate
of the lowest audible note, to those of 38,000 per second, the rate of
the highest audible note. There is a great difference in individuals in
regard to the fineness of the sense of Hearing. But all may develop this
sense by the application of Attention. The animals and savages have
wonderfully acute senses of Hearing developed only along the lines of
distinctness, however--on the other hand musicians have developed the
sense along different lines.

The sense of Sight is generally conceded to be the highest and most
complex of all the senses of Man. It deals with a far larger number of
objects--at longer distances--and gives a far greater variety of
reports to the mind than any of its associate senses. It is the sense of
Touch magnified many times. As Wilson says of it, "Our sight may be
considered as a more delicate and diffusive kind of touch that spreads
itself over an infinite number of bodies; comprehends the largest
figures, and brings into our reach some of the most remote parts of the
universe."

The sense of Sight receives its impressions from the outside world by
means of waves that travel from body to body--from sun to earth, and from
lamp to eye. These waves of light arise from vibrations in substance, of
an almost incredible degree of rapidity. The lowest light vibration is
about 450,000,000,000,000 per second, while the highest is about
750,000,000,000,000 per second. These figures deal only with the
vibrations recognizable by the eye as light. Above and below these
figures of the scale are countless other degrees invisible to the eye,
although some of them may be recorded by instruments. The different
sensations of color, depend upon the rate of the vibrations, red being
the limit of the lowest, and violet the limit of the highest visible
vibrations--orange, yellow, green, blue, and indigo being the
intermediate rates or colors.

The cultivation of the sense of Sight, under the aid of Attention is most
important to ail persons. By being able to clearly see and distinguish
the parts of an object, a degree of knowledge regarding it is obtained
that one may not acquire without the said exercise of the faculty. We
have spoken of this under the subject of Attention, in a previous lesson,
to which lesson we again refer the student. The fixing of the eye upon an
object has the power of concentrating the thoughts and preventing them
from wandering. The eye has other properties and qualities that will be
dwelt upon in future lessons. It has other uses than seeing. The
influence of the eye is a marvelous thing, and may be cultivated and
developed.

We trust that what we have said will bring the student to a realization
of the importance of developing the powers of Perception. The senses have
been developed by the mind during a long period of evolution and effort
that surely would not have been given unless the object in view was worth
it all. The "I" insists upon obtaining knowledge of the Universe, and
much of this knowledge may be obtained only through the senses. The Yogi
student must be "wide awake" and possessed of developed senses and
powers of Perception. The senses of Sight and Hearing, the two latest in
the scale of Evolutionary growth and unfoldment, must receive a
particular degree of attention. The student must make himself "aware"
of what is going on about and around him, so that he may "catch" the best
vibrations.

It would surprise many Westerners if they could come in contact with a
highly developed Yogi, and witness the marvelously finely developed
senses he possesses. He is able to distinguish the finest differences
in things, and his mind is so trained that, in thought, he may draw
conclusions from what he has perceived, in a manner that seems almost
"second-sight" to the uninitiated. _In fact, a certain degree of
second-sight is possible to one who develops his sense of Sight, under
the urge of Attention._ A new world is opened out to such a person. One
must learn to master the senses, not only in the direction of being
independent of and superior to their urgings, but also in the matter of
developing them to a high degree. The development of the physical senses,
also has much to do with the development of the "Astral Senses," of
which we have spoken in our "Fourteen Lessons," and of which we may have
more to say in the present series. The idea of _Raja Yoga_ is to render
the student the possessor of a highly developed Mind, with highly
developed instruments with which the mind may work.

In our future lessons we shall give the student many illustrations,
directions, and exercises calculated to develop the different faculties
of the mind--not only the ordinary faculties of everyday use, but others
hidden behind these familiar faculties and senses. Commencing with the
next lesson, we shall present a system of exercises, drills, etc., the
purpose of which will be the above mentioned development of the faculties
of the Mind.

In this lesson we shall not attempt to give specific exercises, but will
content ourselves with calling the attention of the student to a few
general rules underlying the development of Perception.


GENERAL RULES OF PERCEPTION.

The first thing to remember in acquiring the art of Perception is that
one should not attempt to perceive the whole of a complex thing or object
at the same time, or at once. One should consider the object in detail,
and then, by grouping the details, he will find that he has considered
the whole. Let us take the face of a person as a familiar object. If one
tries to perceive a face as a whole, he will find that he will meet with
a certain degree of failure, the impression being indistinct and cloudy,
it following, also, that the memory of that face will correspond with the
original perception.

But let the observer consider the face in detail, first the eyes, then
the nose, then the mouth, then the chin, then the hair, then the outline
of the face, the complexion, etc., and he will find that he will have
acquired a clear and distinct impression or perception of the whole face.

The same rule may be applied to any subject or object. Let us take
another familiar illustration. You wish to observe a building. If you
simply get a general perception of the building as a whole, you will
be able to remember very little about it, except its general outlines,
shape, size, color, etc. And a description will prove to be very
disappointing. But if you have noted, _in detail_, the material used, the
shape of the doors, chimney, roof, porches, decorations, trimmings,
ornamentation, size and number of the window-panes etc., etc., the shape
and angles of the roof, etc., you will have an _intelligent_ idea of the
building, in the place of a mere general outline or impression of such as
might be acquired by an animal in passing.

We will conclude this lesson with an anecdote of the methods of that
famous naturalist Agassiz, in his training of his pupils. His pupils
became renowned for their close powers of observation and perception,
and their consequent ability to "think" about the things they had seen.
Many of them rose to eminent positions, and claimed that this was largely
by reason of their careful training.

The tale runs that a new student presented himself to Agassiz one day,
asking to be set to work. The naturalist took a fish from a jar in which
it had been preserved, and laying it before the young student bade him
observe it carefully, and be ready to report upon what he had noticed
about the fish. The student was then left alone with the fish. There was
nothing especially interesting about that fish--it was like many other
fishes that he had seen before. He noticed that it had fins and scales,
and a mouth and eyes, yes, and a tail. In a half hour he felt certain
that he had observed all about that fish that there was to be perceived.
But the naturalist remained away.

The time rolled on, and the youth, having nothing else to do, began to
grow restless and weary. He started out to hunt up the teacher, but he
failed to find him, and so had to return and gaze again at that
wearisome fish. Several hours had passed, and he knew but little more
about the fish than he did in the first place.

He went out to lunch and when he returned it was still a case of watching
the fish. He felt disgusted and discouraged, and wished he had never come
to Agassiz, whom, it seemed, was a stupid old man after all,--one away
behind the times. Then, in order to kill time, he began to count the
scales. This completed he counted the spines of the fins. Then he began
to draw a picture of the fish. In drawing the picture he noticed that the
fish had no eyelids. He thus made the discovery that as his teacher had
expressed it often, in lectures, "a pencil is the best of eyes." Shortly
after the teacher returned, and after ascertaining what the youth had
observed, he left rather disappointed, telling the boy to keep on looking
and maybe he would see something.

This put the boy on his mettle, and he began to work with his pencil,
putting down little details that had escaped him before, but which now
seemed very plain to him. He began to catch the secret of observation.
Little by little he brought to light new objects of interest about the
fish. But this did not suffice his teacher, who kept him at work on the
same fish for three whole days. At the end of that time the student
really knew something about the fish, and, better than all, had acquired
the "knack" and habit of careful observation and perception in detail.

Years after, the student, then attained to eminence, is reported as
saying: "That was the best zoological lesson I ever had--a lesson whose
influence has extended to the details of every subsequent study; a
legacy that the professor left to me, as he left to many others, of
inestimable value, which we could not buy, and with which we cannot
part."

Apart from the value to the student of the particular information
obtained, was the quickening of the perceptive faculties that enabled him
to observe the important points in a subject or object, and,
consequently to deduce important information from that which was
observed. The Mind is hungry for knowledge, and it has by years of weary
evolution and effort built up a series of sense systems in order to yield
it that knowledge and it is still building. The men and women in the
world who have arrived at the point of success have availed themselves of
these wonderful channels of information, and by directing them under
the guidance of Will and Attention, have attained wonderful results.
These things are of importance, and we beg of our students not to pass by
this portion of the subject as uninteresting. Cultivate a spirit of
wide-awakeness and perception, and the "knowing" that will come to you
will surprise you.

No only do you develop the existing senses by such practice and use, _but
you help in the unfoldment of the latent powers and senses that are
striving for unfoldment_. By using and exercising the faculties that we
have, we help to unfold those for the coming of which we have been
dreaming.


MANTRAM (AFFIRMATION).

I am a Soul, possessed of channels of communication with the outer world.
I will use these channels, and thereby acquire the information and
knowledge necessary for my mental development. I will exercise and
develop my organs of sense, knowing that in so doing I shall cause to
unfold the higher senses, of which they are but forerunners and symbols.
I will be "_wide-awake_" and open to the inflow of knowledge and
information. The Universe is my Home--I will explore it.

A SERIES OF LESSONS IN RAJA YOGA #5

THE FIFTH LESSON.

THE CULTIVATION OF ATTENTION.


In our last lesson we called your attention to the fact that the Yogis
devote considerable time and practice to the acquirement of
Concentration. And we also had something to say regarding the relation
of Attention to the subject of Concentration. In this lesson we shall
have more to say on the subject of Attention, for it is one of the
important things relating to the practice of _Raja Yoga_, and the Yogis
insist upon their students practicing systematically to develop and
cultivate the faculty. Attention lies at the base of Will-power, and the
cultivation of one makes easy the exercise of the other.

To explain why we lay so much importance to the cultivation of Attention,
would necessitate our anticipating future lessons of this series, which
we do not deem advisable at this time. And so we must ask our students to
take our word for it, that all that we have to say regarding the
importance of the cultivation of Attention, is occasioned by the relation
of that subject to the use of the mind in certain directions as will
appear fully later on.

In order to let you know that we are not advancing some peculiar theory
of the Yogis, which may not be in harmony with modern Western Science, we
give you in this article a number of quotations, from Western writers and
thinkers, touching upon this important faculty of the mind, so that you
may see that the West and East agree upon this main point, however
different may be their explanations of the fact, or their use of the
power gained by the cultivation of Attention.

As we said in our last lesson, the word Attention is derived from two
Latin words "_ad tendere_," meaning "to stretch toward," which is really
what Attention is. The "I" wills that the mind be focused on some
particular object or thing, and the mind obeys and "stretches toward"
that object or thing, focusing its entire energy upon it, observing every
detail, dissecting, analyzing, consciously and sub-consciously, drawing
to itself every possible bit of information regarding it, both from
within and from without. We cannot lay too much stress upon the
acquirement of this great faculty, or rather, the development of it, for
it is necessary for the intelligent study of _Raja Yoga_.

In order to bring out the importance of the subject, suppose we start in
by actually giving our Attention to the subject of Attention, and see how
much more there is in it than we had thought. We shall be well repaid for
the amount of time and trouble expended upon it.

Attention has been defined as a focusing of consciousness, or, if one
prefers the form of expression, as "detention in consciousness." In the
first case, we may liken it to the action of the sun-glass through which
the sun's rays are concentrated upon an object, the result being that the
heat is gathered together at a small given point, the intensity of the
same being raised many degrees until the heat is sufficient to burn a
piece of wood, or evaporate water. If the rays were not focused, the same
rays and heat would have been scattered over a large surface, and the
effect and power lessened. And so it is with the mind. If it is allowed
to scatter itself over the entire field of a subject, it will exert but
little power and the results will be weak. But if it is passed through
the sun-glass of attention, and focused first over one part, and then
over another, and so on, the matter may be mastered in detail, and a
result accomplished that will seem little less than marvelous to those
who do not know the secret.

_Thompson_ has said: "The experiences most permanently impressed upon
consciousness, are those upon which the greatest amount of attention has
been fixed."

Another writer upon the subject has said that "Attention is so
essentially necessary to understanding, that without some degree of it
the ideas and perceptions that pass through the mind seem to leave no
trace behind them."

_Hamilton_ has said: "An act of attention, that is, an act of
concentration, seems thus necessary to every exertion of consciousness,
as a certain contraction of the pupil is requisite to every exertion of
vision. Attention then is to consciousness what the contraction of the
pupil is to sight, or, to the eye of the mind what the microscope or
telescope is to the bodily eye. It constitutes the better half of all
intellectual power."

And _Brodie_ adds, quite forcibly: "It is Attention much more than any
difference in the abstract power of reasoning, which constitutes the vast
difference which exists between minds of different individuals."

_Butler_ gives us this important testimony: "The most important
intellectual habit I know of is the habit of attending exclusively to the
matter in hand. It is commonly said that genius cannot be infused by
education, yet this power of concentrated attention, which belongs as a
part of his gift to every great discoverer, is unquestionably capable of
almost indefinite augmentation by resolute practice."

And, concluding this review of opinions, and endorsements of that which
the Yogis have so much to say, and to which they attach so much
importance, let us listen to the words of _Beattie_, who says: "The
force wherewith anything strikes the mind, is generally in proportion to
the degree of attention bestowed upon it. Moreover, the great art of
memory is attention, and inattentive people always have bad memories."

There are two general kinds of Attention. The first is the Attention
directed within the mind upon mental objects and concepts. The other is
the Attention directed outward upon objects external to ourselves. The
same general rules and laws apply to both equally.

Likewise there may be drawn another distinction and division of attention
into two classes, _viz._, Attenion attracted by some impression coming
into consciousness without any conscious effort of the Will--this is
called Involuntary Attention, for the Attention and Interest is caught by
the attractiveness or novelty of the object. Attention directed to some
object by an effort of the Will, is called Voluntary Attention.
Involuntary Attention is quite common, and requires no special training.
In fact, the lower animals, and young children seem to have a greater
share of it than do adult men. A great percentage of men and women never
get beyond this stage to any marked degree. On the other hand, Voluntary
Attention requires effort, will, and determination--a certain mental
training, that is beyond the majority of people, for they will not "take
the trouble" to direct their attention in this way. Voluntary Attention
is the mark of the student and other thoughtful men. They focus their
minds on objects that do not yield immediate interest or pleasure, in
order that they may learn and accomplish. The careless person will not
thus fasten his Attention, at least not more than a moment or so, for his
Involuntary Attention is soon attracted by some passing object of no
matter how trifling a nature, and the Voluntary Attention disappears and
is forgotten. Voluntary Attention is developed by practice and
perseverance, and is well worth the trouble, for nothing in the mental
world is accomplished without its use.

The Attention does not readily fasten itself to uninteresting objects,
and, unless interest can be created it requires a considerable degree of
Voluntary Attention in order that the mind may be fastened upon such an
object. And, more than this, even if the ordinary attention is attracted
it will soon waver, unless there is some interesting change in the aspect
of the object, that will give the attention a fresh hold of interest, or
unless some new quality, characteristic or property manifests itself in
the object. This fact occurs because the mind mechanism has not been
trained to bear prolonged Voluntary Attention, and, in fact, the physical
brain is not accustomed to the task, although it may be so trained by
patient practice.

It has been noticed by investigators that the Attention may be rested and
freshened, either by withdrawing the Voluntary Attention from the object,
and allowing the Attention to manifest along Involuntary lines toward
passing objects, etc.; or, on the other hand, by directing the Voluntary
Attention into a new field of observation--toward some new object.
Sometimes one plan will seem to give the best results, and again the
other will seem preferable.

We have called your attention to the fact that Interest develops
Attention, and holds it fixed, while an uninteresting object or subject
requires a much greater effort and application. This fact is apparent to
anyone. A common illustration may be found in the matter of reading a
book. Nearly everyone will give his undivided attention to some bright,
thrilling story, while but few are able to use sufficient Voluntary
Attention to master the pages of some scientific work. But, right here,
we wish to call your attention to the other side of the case, which is
another example of the fact that Truth is composed of paradoxes.

Just as Interest develops Attention, so it is a truth that Attention
develops Interest. If one will take the trouble to give a little
Voluntary Attention to an object, he will soon find that a little
perseverance will bring to light points of Interest in the object. Things
before unseen and unsuspected, are quickly brought to light. And many new
phases, and aspects of the subject or object are seen, each one of which,
in turn, becomes an object of Interest. This is a fact not so generally
known, and one that it will be well for you to remember, and to use in
practice. _Look_ for the interesting features of an uninteresting thing,
and they will appear to your view, and before long the uninteresting
object will have changed into a thing having many-sided interests.

Voluntary Attention is one of the signs of a developed Will. That is, of
a mind that has been well trained by the Will, for the Will is always
strong, and it is the mind that has to be trained, not the Will. And on
the other hand, one of the best ways to train the mind by the Will, is by
practice in Voluntary Attention. So you see how the rule works both ways.
Some Western psychologists have even advanced theories that the Voluntary
Attention is the _only_ power of the Will, and that that power is
sufficient, for if the Attention be firmly fixed, and held upon an object
the mind will "do the rest." We do not agree with this school of
philosophers, but merely mention the fact as an illustration of the
importance attributed by psychologists to this matter of Voluntary
Attention.

A man of a strongly developed Attention often accomplishes far more than
some much brighter man who lacks it. Voluntary Attention and Application
is a very good substitute for Genius, and often accomplishes far more in
the long run.

Voluntary Attention is the fixing of the mind earnestly and intently upon
some particular object, at the same time shutting out from consciousness
other objects pressing for entrance. _Hamilton_ has defined it as
"consciousness voluntarily applied under its law of limitations to some
determinate object." The same writer goes on to state that "the greater
the number of objects to which our consciousness is simultaneously
extended, the smaller is the intensity with which it is able to consider
each, and consequently the less vivid and distinct will be the
information it contains of the several objects. When our interest in any
particular object is excited, and when we wish to obtain all the
knowledge concerning it in our power, it behooves us to limit our
consideration to that object to the exclusion of others."

The human mind has the power of attending to only one object at a time,
although it is able to pass from one object to another with a marvelous
degree of speed, so rapidly, in fact, that some have held that it could
grasp several things at once. But the best authorities, Eastern and
Western, hold to the "single idea" theory as being correct. On this point
we may quote a few authorities.

_Jouffroy_ says that "It is established by experience that we cannot give
our attention to two different objects at the same time." And _Holland_
states that "Two thoughts, however closely related to one another,
cannot be presumed to exist at the same time." And _Lewes_ has told us
that "The nature of our organism prevents our having more than one aspect
of an object at each instant presented to consciousness." _Whateley_
says: "The best philosophers are agreed that the mind cannot actually
attend to more than one thing at a time, but, when it appears to be doing
so it is really shifting with prodigious rapidity backward and forward
from one to the other."

By giving a concentrated Voluntary Attention to an object, we not only
are able to see and think about it with the greatest possible degree of
clearness, but the mind has a tendency, under such circumstances, to
bring into the field of consciousness all the different ideas associated
in our memory with that object or subject, and to build around the object
or subject a mass of associated facts and information. And at the same
time the Attention given the subject makes more vivid and clear all that
we learn about the thing at the time, and, in fact, all that we may
afterwards learn about it. It seems to cut a channel, through which
knowledge flows.

Attention magnifies and increases the powers of perception, and greatly
aids the exercise of the perceptive faculties. By "paying attention" to
something seen or heard, one is enabled to observe the details of the
thing seen or heard, and where the inattentive mind acquires say three
impressions the attentive mind absorbs three times three, or perhaps
three times "three times three," or twenty-seven. And, as we have just
said, Attention brings into play the powers of association, and gives us
the "loose end" of an almost infinite chain of associated facts, stored
away in our memory, forming new combinations of facts which we had never
grouped together before, and bring out into the field of consciousness
all the many scraps of information regarding the thing to which we are
giving attention. The proof of this is within the experience of everyone.
Where is the one who does not remember sitting down to some writing,
painting, reading, etc., with interest and attention, and finding, much
to his surprise, what a flow of facts regarding the matter in hand was
passing through his mind. Attention seems to focus all the knowledge of a
thing that you possess, and by bringing it to a point enables you to
combine, associate, classify, etc., and thus create new knowledge.
_Gibbon_ tells us that after he gave a brief glance and consideration to
a new subject, he suspended further work upon it, and allowed his mind
(under concentrated attention) to bring forth all his associated
knowledge regarding the subject, after which he renewed the task with
increased power and efficiency.

The more one's attention is fixed upon a subject under consideration, the
deeper is the impression which the subject leaves upon the mind. And the
easier will it be for him to afterwards pursue the same train of thought
and work.

Attention is a prerequisite of good memory, and in fact there can be no
memory at all unless some degree of attention is given. The degree of
memory depends upon the degree of attention and interest. And when it is
considered that the work of today is made efficient by the memory of
things learned yesterday, the day before yesterday, and so on, it is seen
that the degree of attention given today regulates the quality of the
work of tomorrow.

Some authorities have described Genius as the result of great powers of
attention, or, at least, that the two seem to run together. Some writer
has said that "possibly the best definition of genius is the power of
concentrating upon some one given subject until its possibilities are
exhausted and absorbed." _Simpson_ has said that "The power and habit of
thinking closely and continuously upon the subject at hand, to the
exclusion, for the time, of all other subjects, is one of the principal,
if, indeed, not the principal, means of success." _Sir Isaac Newton_ has
told us his plan of absorbing information and knowledge. He has stated
that he would keep the subject under consideration before him
continually, and then would wait till the first dawning of perception
gradually brightened into a clear light, little by little. A mental
sunrise, in fact.

That sage observer, _Dr. Abercrombie_, has written that he considered
that he knew of no more important rule for rising to eminence in any
profession or occupation than the Ability to do one thing at a time,
avoiding all distracting and diverting objects or subjects, and keeping
the leading matter continually before the mind. And others have added
that such a course will enable one to observe relations between the
subject and other things that will not be apparent to the careless
observer or student.

The degree of Attention cultivated by a man is the degree of his capacity
for intellectual work. As we have said, the "great" men of all walks of
life have developed this faculty to a wonderful degree, and many of them
seem to get results "intuitively," whereas, in truth, they obtain them by
reason of their concentrated power of Attention, which enables them to
see right into the center of a subject or proposition--and all around it,
back and front, and all sides, in a space of time incredible to the man
who has not cultivated this mighty power. Men who have devoted much
attention to some special line of work or research, are able to act
almost as if they possessed "second sight," providing the subject is
within their favorite field of endeavor. Attention quickens every one of
the faculties--the reasoning faculties--the senses--the deriding
qualities--the analytical faculties, and so on, each being given a "fine
edge" by their use under a concentrated Attention.

And, on the other hand, there is no surer indication of a weak mind than
the deficiency in Attention. This weakness may arise from illness or
physical weakness reacting upon the brain, in which case the trouble is
but temporary. Or it may arise from a lack of mental development.
Imbeciles and idiots have little or no Attention. The great French
psychologist, _Luys_, speaking of this fact, says "Imbeciles and idiots
see badly, hear badly, feel badly, and their sensorium is, in
consequence, in a similar condition of sensitive poverty. Its
impressionability for the things of the external world is at a minimum,
its sensibility weak, and consequently, it is difficult to provoke the
physiological condition necessary for the absorption of the external
impression."

In old age the Attention is the first faculty to show signs of decay.
Some authorities have held that the Memory was the first faculty to be
affected by the approach of old age, but this is incorrect, for it is a
matter of common experience that the aged manifest a wonderfully clear
memory of events occurring in the far past. The reason that their memory
of recent events is so poor is because their failing powers of Attention
has prevented them from receiving strong, clear mental impressions, and
as is the impression so is the memory. Their early impressions having
been clear and strong, are easily recalled, while their later ones,
being weak, are recalled with difficulty. If the Memory were at fault, it
would be difficult for them to recall any impression, recent or far
distant in time.

But we must stop quoting examples and authorities, and urging upon you
the importance of the faculty of Attention. If you do not now realize it,
it is because you have not given the subject the Attention that you
should have exercised, and further repetition would not remedy matters.

Admitting the importance of Attention, from the psychological point
of view, not to speak of the occult side of the subject, is it not a
matter of importance for you to start in to cultivate that faculty? We
think so. And the only way to cultivate any mental or physical part or
faculty is to Exercise it. Exercise "uses up" a muscle, or mental
faculty, but the organism makes haste to rush to the scene additional
material--cell-stuff, nerve force, etc., to repair the waste, and it
always sends a little more than is needed. And this "little more,"
continually accruing and increasing, is what increases the muscles and
brain centers. And improved and strengthened brain centers give the mind
better instruments with which to work.

One of the first things to do in the cultivation of Attention is to learn
to think of, and do, one thing at a time. Acquiring the "knack" or habit
of attending closely to the things before us, and then passing on to the
next and treating it in the same way, is most conducive to success, and
its practice is the best exercise for the cultivation of the faculty of
Attention. And on the contrary, there is nothing more harmful from the
point of view of successful performance--and nothing that will do more to
destroy the power of giving Attention--than the habit of trying to do one
thing while thinking of another. The thinking part of the mind, and the
acting part should work together, not in opposition.

_Dr. Beattie_, speaking of this subject, tells us "It is a matter of no
small importance that we acquire the habit of doing only one thing at a
time; by which I mean that while attending to any one object, our
thoughts ought not to wander to another." And _Granville_ adds, "A
frequent cause of failure in the faculty of Attention is striving to
think of more than one thing at a time." And _Kay_ quotes, approvingly, a
writer who says: "She did things easily, because she attended to them in
the doing. When she made bread, she thought of the bread, and not of the
fashion of her next dress, or of her partner at the last dance." _Lord
Chesterfield said,_ "There is time enough for everything in the course of
the day, if you do but one thing at a time; but there is not time enough
in the year if you try to do two things at a time."

To attain the best results one should practice concentrating upon the
task before him, shutting out, so far as possible, every other idea or
thought. One should even forget self--personality--in such cases, as
there is nothing more destructive of good thinking than to allow morbid
self-consciousness to intrude. One does best when he "forgets himself" in
his work, and sinks his personality in the creative work. The "earnest"
man or woman is the one who sinks personality in the desired result, or
performance of the task undertaken. The actor, or preacher, or orator,
or writer, must lose sight of himself to get the best results. Keep the
Attention fixed on the thing before you, and let the self take care of
itself.

In connection with the above, we may relate an anecdote of _Whateley_
that may be interesting in connection with the consideration of this
subject of "losing one's self" in the task. He was asked for a recipe for
"bashfulness," and replied that the person was bashful simply because he
was thinking of himself and the impression he was making. His recipe was
that the young man should think of others--of the pleasure he could give
them--and in that way he would forget all about himself. The prescription
is said to have effected the cure. The same authority has written, "Let
both the extemporary speaker, and the reader of his own compositions,
study to avoid as far as possible all thoughts of self, earnestly fixing
the mind on the matter of what is delivered; and they will feel less
that embarrassment which arises from the thought of what opinion the
hearers will form of them."

The same writer, _Whateley_, seems to have made quite a study of
Attention and has given us some interesting information on its details.
The following may be read with interest, and if properly understood may
be employed to advantage. He says, "It is a fact, and a very curious one.
that many people find that they can best attend to any serious matter
when they are occupied with something else which requires a little, and
but a little, attention, such as working with the needle, cutting open
paper leaves, or, for want of some such employment, fiddling anyhow with
the fingers." He does not give the reason for this, and at first sight
it might seem like a contradiction of the "one thing at a time" idea. But
a closer examination will show us that the minor work (the cutting
leaves, etc.) is in the nature of an involuntary or automatic movement,
inasmuch as it requires little or no voluntary attention, and seems to
"do itself." It does not take off the Attention from the main subject,
but perhaps acts to catch the "waste Attention" that often tries to
divide the Attention from some voluntary act to another. The habit mind
may be doing one thing, while the Attention is fixed on another. For
instance, one may be writing with his attention firmly fixed upon the
thought he wishes to express, while at the time his hand is doing the
writing, apparently with no attention being given it. But, let a boy, or
person unaccustomed to writing, try to express his thoughts in this way,
and you will find that he is hampered in the flow of his thoughts by the
fact that he has to give much attention to the mechanical act of writing.
In the same way, the beginner on the typewriter finds it difficult to
compose to the machine, while the experienced typist finds the mechanical
movements no hindrance whatever to the flow of thought and focusing of
Attention; in fact, many find that they can compose much better while
using the typewriter than they can by dictating to a stenographer. We
think you will see the principle.

And now for a little Mental Drill in Attention, that you may be started
on the road to cultivate this important faculty.


MENTAL DRILL IN ATTENTION.

_Exercise I._ Begin by taking some familiar object and placing it before
you, try to get as many impressions regarding it as is possible for you.
Study its shape, its color, its size, and the thousand and one little
peculiarities about it that present themselves to your attention. In
doing this, reduce the thing to its simplest parts--analyze it as far as
is possible--dissect it, mentally, and study its parts in detail. The
more simple and small the part to be considered, the more clearly will
the impression be received, and the more vividly will it be recalled.
Reduce the thing to the smallest possible proportions, and then examine
each portion, and mastering that, then pass on to the next part, and so
on, until you have covered the entire field. Then, when you have
exhausted the object, take a pencil and paper and put down as nearly as
possible all the things or details of the object examined. When you have
done this, compare the written description with the object itself, and
see how many things you have failed to note.

The next day take up the same object, and after re-examining it, write
down the details and you will find that you will have stored away a
greater number of impressions regarding it, and, moreover, you will have
discovered many new details during your second examination. This exercise
strengthens the memory as well as the Attention, for the two are closely
connected, the memory depending largely upon the clearness and strength
of the impressions received, while the impressions depend upon the amount
of attention given to the thing observed. Do not tire yourself with this
exercise, for a tired Attention is a poor Attention. Better try it by
degrees, increasing the task a little each time you try it. Make a game
of it if you like, and you will find it quite interesting to notice the
steady but gradual improvement.

It will be interesting to practice this in connection with some friend,
varying the exercise by both examining the object, and writing down their
impressions, separately, and then comparing results. This adds interest
to the task, and you will be surprised to see how rapidly both of you
increase in your powers of observation, which powers, of course, result
from Attention.

_Exercise II._ This exercise is but a variation of the first one. It
consists in entering a room, and taking a hasty glance around, and then
walking out, and afterward writing down the number of things that you
have observed, with a description of each. You will be surprised to
observe how many things you have missed at first sight, and how you will
improve in observation by a little practice. This exercise, also, may be
improved by the assistance of a friend, as related in our last exercise.
It is astonishing how many details one may observe and remember, after a
little practice. It is related of Houdin, the French conjurer, that he
improved and developed his faculty of Attention and Memory by playing
this game with a young relative. They would pass by a shop window,
taking a hasty, attentive glance at its contents. Then they would go
around the corner and compare notes. At first they could remember only a
few prominent articles--that is, their Attention could grasp only a few.
But as they developed by practice, they found that they could observe and
remember a vast number of things and objects in the window. And, at last,
it is related that Houdin could pass rapidly before any large shop
window, bestowing upon it but one hasty glance, and then tell the names
of, and closely describe, nearly every object in plain sight in the
window. The feat was accomplished by the fact that the cultivated
Attention enabled Houdin to fasten upon his mind a vivid mental image of
the window and its contents, and then he was able to describe the
articles one by one from the picture in his mind.

Houdin taught his son to develop Attention by a simple exercise which may
be interesting and of value to you. He would lay down a domino before the
boy--a five-four, for example. He would require the boy to tell him the
combined number at once, without allowing him to stop to count the spots,
one by one. "Nine" the boy would answer after a moment's hesitation.
Then another domino, a three-four, would be added. "That makes sixteen,"
cried the boy. Two dominoes at a time was the second day's task. The
next day, three was the standard. The next day, four, and so on, until
the boy was able to handle twelve dominoes--that is to say, give
instantaneously the total number of spots on twelve dominoes, after a
single glance. This was Attention, in earnest, and shows what practice
will do to develop a faculty. The result was shown by the wonderful
powers of observation, memory and attention, together with instantaneous
mental action, that the boy developed. Not only was he able to add
dominoes instantaneously, but he had powers of observation, etc., that
seemed little short of miraculous. And yet it is related that he had poor
attention, and deficient memory to begin with.

If this seems incredible, let us remember how old whist players note and
remember every card in the pack, and can tell whether they have been
played or not, and all the circumstances attending upon them. The same is
true of chess players, who observe every move and can relate the whole
game in detail long after it has been played. And remember, also, how
one woman may pass another woman on the street, and without seeming to
give her more than a careless glance, may be able to relate in detail
every feature of the other woman's apparel, including its color, texture,
style of fashioning, probable price of the material, etc., etc. And a
mere man would have noticed scarcely anything about it--because he would
not have given it any attention. But how soon would that man learn to
equal his sister in attention and observation of women's wearing apparel,
if his business success depended upon it, or if his speculative instinct
was called into play by a wager with some friend as to who could remember
the most about a woman's clothing, seen in a passing glance? You see it
is all a matter of Interest and Attention.

But we forget that the Attention may be developed and cultivated, and we
complain that we "cannot remember things," or that we do not seem to be
able to "take notice." A little practice will do wonders in this
direction.

Now, while the above exercises will develop your memory and powers of
observation, still that is not the main reason that we have given them to
you. We have an ulterior object, that will appear in time. We aim to
develop your Will-power, and we know that Attention stands at the gate of
Will-power. In order to be able to use your Will, you must be able to
focus the Attention forcibly and distinctly. And these childish exercises
will help you to develop the mental muscles of the Attention. If you
could but realize the childish games the young Yogi students are required
to play, in order to develop the mental faculties, you would change your
minds about the Yogi Adepts whom you have been thinking about as mere
dreamers, far removed from the practical. These men, and their students,
are intensely practical. They have gained the mastery of the Mind, and
its faculties, and are able to use them as sharp edged tools, while the
untrained man finds that he has but a dull, unsharpened blade that will
do nothing but hack and hew roughly, instead of being able to produce the
finished product.

The Yogi believes in giving the "I" good tools with which to work, and he
spends much time in tempering and sharpening these tools. Oh, no, the
Yogi are not idle dreamers. Their grasp of "practical things" would
surprise many a practical, matter-of-fact Western business man, if he
could but observe it.

And so, we ask you to practice "observing things." The two exercises we
have given are but indications of the general line. We could give you
thousands, but you can prepare them yourselves as well as could we.
The little Hindu boy is taught Attention by being asked to note and
remember the number, color, character and other details of a number of
colored stones, jewelry, etc., shown for an instant in an open palm,
the hand being closed the moment after. He is taught to note and
describe passing travelers, and their equipages--houses he sees on his
journeys--and thousands of other everyday objects. The results are almost
marvelous. In this way he is prepared as a _chela_ or student, and he
brings to his _guru_ or teacher a brain well developed--a mind thoroughly
trained to obey the Will of the "I"--and with faculties quickened to
perceive instantly that which others would fail to see in a fortnight. It
is true that he does not turn these faculties to "business" or other
so-called "practical" pursuits, but prefers to devote them to abstract
studies and pursuits outside of that which the Western man considers to
be the end and aim of life. But remember that the two civilizations are
quite different--following different ideals--having different economic
conditions--living in different worlds, as it were. But that is all a
matter of taste and ideals--the faculty for the "practical life" of the
West is possessed by the _chela_, if he saw fit to use it. But all Hindu
youths are not _chelas_, remember--nor are all Western youths "captains
of industry," or Edisons.


MANTRAM (AFFIRMATION).

I am using my Attention to develop my mental faculties, so as to give the
"I" a perfect instrument with which to work. The mind is _My_ instrument
and I am bringing it to a state of capacity for perfect work.


MANTRAM (OR AFFIRMATION).

There is but One Life--One Life Underlying. This Life is manifesting
through ME, and through every other shape, form, and thing. I am resting
on the bosom of the Great Ocean of Life, and it is supporting me, and
will carry me safely, though the waves rise and fall--though the storms
rage and the tempests roar. I am safe on the Ocean of Life, and rejoice
as I feel the sway of its motion. Nothing can harm me--though changes may
come and go, I am Safe. I am One with the All Life, and its Power,
Knowledge, and Peace are behind, underneath, and within Me. O! One Life!
express Thyself through me--carry me now on the crest of the wave, now
deep down in the trough of the ocean--supported always by Thee--all is
good to me, as I feel Thy life moving in and through me. I am Alive,
through thy life, and I open myself to thy full manifestation and inflow.