The Visions of God and Man  (1)

    When we speak of men we all understand this to mean human beings, but of God everyone has his own conception. To one person God is an abstract concept, to another he is a personal God, and again according to others there is no God at all. In this age of ever-increasing materialism the God-ideal has become so obscured that its light is no longer evident. People in the past waged wars and battles, they killed and robbed and in many ways showed a primitive nature, but when it came to the ideal, to God, they all surrendered to it, they all believed in it.

    Today many people question the idea of God. Among the so-called civilized nations there are some who have erased the word God from the textbooks used in their schools. Children educated in these schools have grown up with the idea that there is no God. And even if it occurs to them that there must be something, or they become convinced that there is a God, they call Him 'higher powers', or 'gods', putting into the plural that which is singular, bringing the highest nature humanity can conceive of down to the sphere of variety.

    Many others who have been educated in science and literature think that it is unintelligent to believe in God or to use the word God. They think that as it is used by so many primitive and simple people, who are not intelligent, they had better forget the name of God. And so a path which has been traced for thousands of years by great masters has been blocked by the pride of man.

    Once, after I had given a series of lectures, a man came up to me and said, 'All your lectures appeal to me very much.' I think every word is true; I have always thought on those lines. I would be most happy to follow your guidance, but only on one condition: that you do not mention the name of God. For a man like you, who can touch the depths of life, a man of high principles and lofty ideals, does not need to use that old name which every simpleton uses and believes in. We are making a new kind of life today, and we look at it in a different way.' 'New?' I said, 'there is nothing new under the sun. The newness is only in your conception; it is new to you because you did not know it before. It may be new to you, but to someone else it certainly is not new!'

    A material scientist today finds out something and says, 'Here is a new discovery!' Another says, 'No, it is not true; here is another discovery which proves it wrong.' And so it goes on; every year there are many new discoveries. Sometimes, too, one scientist does not think like another; they may belong to the same school, and yet each has his own idea which does not agree with the other man's. But when we consider the mystics and thinkers who look at life from a spiritual point of view, they all agree, be they Yogis, Sufis, Buddhists, or Christians--it does not matter which.

    Whenever they arrive at a certain stage of understanding they all agree, they all have the same experiences, they all have the same realization to which they come in spite of all differences. The differences in the dogmas of the various religions are only differences of form: those who look at the surface see variations, but those who look below the surface see one and the same truth hidden beneath all religions, which have been given at different times by different masters. Naturally, therefore, the method of expression is different, but when one comes to the essence it is all one and the same, and those who are spiritually evolved come to the conclusion that they do not differ one from the other in their belief.

    One should, of course, understand the real meaning of belief. Very often it is his belief which keeps a man back from spiritual attainment, but more often it is belief which helps him to go forward. Belief is like a staircase. Each step takes one higher, but when one remains standing on a certain step of the staircase one does not progress. Belief may nail the feet to the ground and keep one there where there are millions of believers in God, and thus there are many simple people who do not get the full benefit from belief. But this does not mean that belief has no function. It simply means that these people do not understand the real meaning of belief; they only know how to remain standing on a certain spot on a staircase.

    As a person evolves so his belief evolves, until he comes to that stage where he harmonizes with all the different beliefs, where he is no longer against any belief. Then he is not nailed down any more, he is above all the different beliefs. Very often a person says, 'I cannot understand what God is. Can you explain God to me?' But if God were to be explained He would not be God. To explain God is to dethrone God.

    God apart, can one explain anything fine and subtle such as gratitude, love, or devotion, in words? How much can be explained? Words are too inadequate to explain great feelings, so how can God be explained in words? Nevertheless, in the language of metaphysics the Absolute is the omniscient Spirit, the essence of Intelligence itself in its original condition. In the East they call it Nut, which means radiance; and the nature of radiance is to centralize. It is the centralizing of the radiance which illuminates. Physically one can say that the sun is the centralized all-pervading radiance; therefore the sun which we can see is only the point of centralization of the Nur, the light. In reality the sun is all; in the form of light it is the sun, and the sun is not only in that center, but wherever the light reaches in our houses and outside the sun is there. Its manifestation is indirect, yet it is all the

    When we look at the all-pervading Intelligence as centralized intelligence we call it God, because it begins with centralizing; from this point manifestation begins. For manifestation there must first be centralization. It is this which forms an entity, and the wise have called it God; but this does not make it a being which is separate from manifestation, just as the sun cannot be separated from the sunlight. Light is as much the sun as the sun we see before us, and in the same way manifestation is God as much as God is the origin and source of manifestation.

    Now, when we study the sun we see that there is the sun and that there are rays. In the rays the sun is manifest in variety. But what are the rays? The sun. This is only an action of the sun where the radiance has been centralized. The first action is to project itself, to manifest in the form of various rays. And if I were to explain what we human beings are and what God is, I would say that our relationship with God is the same as that between the rays and the sun. Every soul is a ray of the sun which is God. It is not our body or our mind which is the ray but the soul, whose nature it is to attract a garb from whichever sphere it touches in order to cover itself so that it can live in that particular sphere. It is this garb which the soul has borrowed that we call our physical body, a clay which has been kneaded for many centuries to make the body of man, a clay which was once a rock, which once manifested itself as a tree, which once appeared as animals and birds. This same clay, in its finished form, has given the soul of man a garb which he calls his body.

    It is in this belief that the mystic differs from the scientist, not however in the understanding of the process. The scientist believes in the same process: that from dense earth the mineral and then the vegetable have gradually developed. Biology rests on this principle. The mystic, however, does not attribute to this garb the origin of the body which the soul takes for its use; he attributes it to the spirit which takes the garb upon itself. This origin does not belong to the dense earth; it belongs to God; it is the ray of the sun. And is the ray separate from the sun? Never, and for the same reason man is never separate from God.

    In this material world one only sees that one lives on food, that one eats, that one needs air and water, and one does not see any other source of life; but in reality all these things which sustain man's body only sustain the garb which is earthly. Its real sustenance is different and belongs to the source from whence it comes and to which it is attached. It is thence that man draws all strength, vitality, and illumination every moment of his life. Therefore the proper name for God is 'origin'. The word 'God' is related to the Arabic Djod, which has this meaning. When man neglects the knowledge of self and of God, and only knows about the garb he wears, he does not know about himself. Whatever his learning and qualifications may be, they all pertain to the garb which he is wearing, but it is through the understanding of the spirit and the soul that man really acquires the knowledge of the self and of God.

    Some people think that the physical garb is the only one the soul wears, but this is not so; in order to come to this plane of the earth the ray, the soul, must pass through two different spheres. The first sphere may be called the angelic sphere, and the next the sphere of the jinns. One may ask, 'Then why do I not see them, if I also have garbs from these other spheres?' But one can see them too if one has studied human nature minutely. Eating, drinking, and sleeping, all these faculties come from the physical world; but there are others: the love of music, appreciation of poetry, the tendency to invent wonderful things, all intellectual pursuits and phenomena come from the jinn world.

    Poets and thinkers show the garb of that sphere in the work they do in the physical world. This garb is hidden, but where? It has become their mind, and therefore the mind is the inner garb, while the body is the outer garb which covers it. The mind is the garb which man has brought from the jinn sphere. But even before this man had still another garb, and this comes from the angelic sphere. Do we see any sign of it? Yes, in his devotion, in his idealistic tendencies, in his innocence, in the love and beauty of his nature, in all these qualities man shows the garb of the sphere of the angels.

    Innocence always goes with a loving nature. A person who is loving is generally innocent also, whereas a person who is very clever is least loving. For the very reason that he is clever he has little love, for then love is buried in his cleverness. I do not mean to say that innocence is the most valuable quality; every quality has its place; nevertheless innocence is an angelic quality. Great prophets, saints, and sages, those who have healed the wounds of humanity, were most innocent people. Innocence is the proof of spirituality. However great a person's cleverness may be, without innocence he cannot be spiritual; also, spirituality produces innocence.

    The garb that man has brought from the angelic sphere is revealed in the form of unselfish love, devotion, high ideals, a worshipful attitude, and love of beauty. The first tendency shown by every infant from the time it opens its eyes is love of beauty: beautiful colors, beautiful things, all these attract it. Perhaps it does not see beauty as we do, for our sense of beauty has been spoiled by our experience and our ideas, but the infant comes to the earth with a natural sense of beauty. That which is really beautiful strikes the infant, and it loves it.
   
The Vision of God and Man  (2)

    Rumi says in his great book, the Masnavi, that the reason why a child cries the first moment after it is born on earth is because it realizes its exile from the higher spheres. 'It is unhappy because it finds itself in a different sphere, a different world. The soul seems captive in this mortal body.

    There is a beautiful story in the Qur'an which explains symbolically the idea of the captivity of the soul. It says that God made a statue of man, of the first man, and asked the soul to enter into this body. And the soul refused saying, 'Lord, I do not want to be imprisoned in this physical body.' Then God told the angels to sing and dance, and on hearing their song and with the rhythm of the dance the soul went into ecstasy, and in that condition it entered the body. Rumi says that the reason why every soul is yearning to attain something is that it is in exile, a captive in this physical body which for a while it considered to be itself, with which it identified itself, but which in reality is not itself. It is only a garb, but because it has identified itself with this garb it is unhappy; it has lost that freedom which belonged to it, which was its own.

    The vision of man is small, narrow, because of his limitation in this physical body. In other words, the eyes cannot see farther than the mind can, and the mind cannot see farther than the soul can. Because the soul is dependent upon the mind the vision becomes limited, and as the mind is accustomed to experience through the body the vision of the mind is limited. It is the vision of the perfect One which, by means of the captivity, has made the individual; thus individual means the limited experience of the soul. Whether man knows it or not, whether he believes it or not, there always comes a time when he finds that nothing pleases him.

    Sometimes he thinks that he is unhappy because he has no money or no comforts; he imagines that if he had a comfortable home with pleasant, congenial surroundings everything would be all right; but when he has obtained all this he is dissatisfied just the same. It is because of man's innermost being that he is only satisfied for a short time by outside factors. His lack of freedom causes a continual craving; the soul which is captive in mind and body and which cannot express itself fully cannot experience life as it would wish, because by identifying itself with its garbs it has accustomed itself to be ignorant of itself. Therefore spiritual attainment is a matter of finding the secret by uncovering the soul beneath these garbs.

    No one can say how God looks upon the world, how God sees life. Yet there are souls who attain to the divine vision, in other words their outlook becomes God's outlook. In Sufi terms this is called Akhlak-e Allah, which means the manner of God. When man has reached the stage of spiritual attainment where he has developed the outlook of God his manner becomes the manner of God. The greater man's evolution the wider his outlook on life; the wider his outlook the higher he stands. But at the same time, as life is today and in so far as we are able to see our fellowmen, it seems that people care little to distinguish themselves in this way.

    In the modern world the pitch, it appears, has become smaller and smaller, the pitch of human understanding. Why is this so? Because of the lack of individual progress. As man is busy with mass-production the general tendency is to keep everybody on the same level of understanding. People all read the same newspapers as if they were afraid of ideas being unalike. So they remain all at the same pitch; and if any man has a tendency to go forward he is considered a dreamer, an eccentric, strange. There is no encouragement for individual development, and therefore society keeps the progress of the whole within certain limits and does not allow it to develop further.

    And now the question arises, if God is absolute, then what is the use of worship, of prayer, or of believing in God in some form or other--as King, or Judge, or Creator, or the superior Being? What is the use of it? It is very easy to read in a book that it is the absolute that is God, that it is the abstract. This means no one and nothing, or all and everything! Indeed, there is some truth in this. But the idea of God being the absolute is larger than man's mind. The mind wants to understand, but the brain cannot grasp it. Many intellectual people have lost their way by reading somewhere that God is abstract. It means nothing to them, for they have not yet arrived at that stage of evolution where they can assimilate such an idea. Before getting to that stage they have swallowed a pill they can never digest.

    On top of this come people who have new ideas and thoughts, and who give lessons about these. They say, 'You are God; I am God.' In their way their insolence becomes greater and greater. The lofty ideal of God, the ideal which uplifted the seekers of all ages, is being lost. Those who have arrived at realization do not speak about such things in connection with the God-ideal; they realize it in their hearts and keep quiet. But those who have the God-ideal only in the brain, who speak about it and want to touch it, do not touch the ideal. And where do they get to ? Nowhere.

    Man can only conceive of an idea in the way he is able to conceive of a thing. For instance, if one speaks about fairies no one will think of them as trees or plants but as human beings. If an artist is told to paint an angel he will paint it in the form of a human being. He will conceive it in the form to which he is accustomed, which is near and dear to his mind.

    Naturally every man conceives the idea of God differently. One conceives God as the Judge; he does not see justice in the world, so he sees it in God. Another conceives God as the Creator; man knows himself to be a creator, so he thinks that God is the perfect creator. It is natural for man to make God that which he thinks to be best; therefore whether people belong to the same religion or nation or not, each one of them has his own God, depending on the way he looks upon Him. To have one's own belief is the first step on the spiritual path. It is not right for a person to say, 'Believe in my God.'

    Someone else may not be capable of believing in the same way that he does. He believes in his own way, so let him believe in that way. After all it is a first belief; it is nothing but a garb, a garb made by one's own imagination. In order to kindle that tendency to imagine, to idealize, to worship, the wise in olden times said to those who were not capable of imagination, 'Here is a statue of God.' Those who worshipped these statues, the Chinese, the Greeks, the Hindus, were they mistaken? No, each person's God is as he looks upon Him; and if one says that there are as many gods as there are people in the world, that is true also. Behind it is God, one and the same God of all. First there is the conception, the imagination, and in this way everyone proceeds. And if someone wanted to use another person's imagination the wise said, 'Well, take this little picture; there is your God."

    It is a pity that it was not only in the past that people were primitive; today people's imagination is even worse. Man has become a machine, toiling from morning till evening. He has very little time to imagine; if he had he would be another being. Any scientific discovery that is made is thought most wonderful, but it must be expressed in a simple statement. Formerly things were expressed in terms of poetry, in the form of music, in symbolical pictures, so that a person might think and penetrate and understand, so that his soul might be touched after it unfolded itself by the fineness of what he saw or heard. All the great scriptures of the past were given in such a form, never in a crude form.

    Today a man comes and says, 'Will you tell me about truth. I want truth in simple words.' But truth is never told in simple words; besides, that which can be spoken of in simple words cannot be truth. Truth should be distinguished from facts; it is something that must be realized, discovered. Sometimes when I meet those who want to find tangible truth I feel inclined to write on a piece of stone Truth, and to give it to them and say, 'Hold it fast; here is tangible truth!'

    How does one benefit by a belief in God? How is the knowledge of God acquired if belief in God is sufficient? The thousands and millions of people who believe in God, are they all progressive and happy? It is not so. Belief is the first step; the second step is to know the relationship between God and man. In order to understand this one must be able to concentrate, to contemplate, to meditate, so as to forget that false identity which one has conceived in one's mind from the time one was born on earth. All the different methods that sages and seers have taught humanity are to help one to forget that false conception of self. And the method one can adopt to discover truth is the knowledge of God, and by making proper use of this in one's prayers, in one's concentration, in one's practices. In these one benefits by means of the God-ideal, and one comes in this way to the self-realization which is the fulfillment of life's purpose.

Mysticism

    Mysticism is a means to an end. Mysticism is not the goal, but through it one arrives at the goal. If you ask me, what is Sufism, is it a philosophy or is it mysticism, the answer is that it is both; and here I would like to explain something of the mystic side of Sufism.

    The mystic side of Sufism may be recognized as seeing and hearing. To see further than one sees, to hear more keenly than one hears; in other words to see that which the eyes cannot see, to hear that which the ears cannot hear. This experience brings one to realization: to see without eyes, to hear without ears. No doubt to the mystic seeing and hearing, these two words, have a different meaning. When we say 'seeing' we mean seeing through the eyes, when we say 'hearing' we mean hearing through the ears; but to the mystic seeing is not only through the eyes, nor is hearing only hearing through the ears. It is seeing even without eyes and hearing even without ears. The English word 'seer' means someone who can see equally well with or without eyes.

    Now the question arises, if there is such a seeing and hearing would not every soul be most happy to attain to this, for it would be just like having wings to fly? Who would not? Everyone. And if there is this possibility of seeing and hearing why is not everybody seeking after it? The reason is that not everybody believes it, although it can only be attained by belief and never without it. Therefore it is something that every soul seeks after, yet about which every soul has doubts. Even if a soul believes, the question is whether he has enough patience to go through with it, and patience is required because a certain preparation is necessary in order to hear and see.

    For everyone would like to see and hear, but if a person were capable of it, would he be strong enough to endure the disadvantages? For instance what would happen if mankind, ready as it is to criticize its fellowmen, could see still more faults in them? Or if a man who is absorbed in life's interests sees a disaster coming upon him, upon his dear ones, will he be able to endure this? If a person who cannot keep his own counsel were to know, through this power, the secrets of his fellowmen, what terrible things could he not do! Moreover, should an affectionate person, always afraid of any harm or hurt touching his dear ones, see it coming, his nerves would be shattered to pieces!

    Thus we realize that in every soul there is a possibility of seeing and hearing, and that every soul would be most delighted to attain to this power, but at the same time that not every soul is ready to have it, nor would it be good for every soul to possess it. Food is for the hungry. If one is hungry one must seek for food. If one wishes, one will naturally see more, but if one does not wish it, it does not matter. It is according to one's appetite; if there is appetite there should be food. If it is a sin to see more, then it is also a sin to see with the eyes. The eyes are given to see with, the soul to see further. Nevertheless, to seek for extraordinary powers, for phenomena, is going backward instead of forward. If one proceeds along the path of beneficence all that can be will be given.

    If there is any secret in mysticism this is the only one. Before a person has developed his outlook he must not hear, he must not see. Therefore it is not in order to make one see and hear but to change one's outlook that the teacher gives initiation. But when the pupil says, 'I come to see and hear', the teacher says, 'Wait!'

    I will tell you my own experience. Before I started looking for my teacher the faculty of seeing was being developed in me. It is this which awakes the desire to seek for a teacher, for the teacher can give the explanation of life. I did not tell my teacher about this faculty, for I was too impressed, too respectful, to speak of what I could see and hear. But one day, after having been with my teacher for some time, I ventured to speak about it. And what was his answer? 'I am sorry.' I was expecting a word of encouragement! But he added, 'It is not seeing or hearing, it is acknowledging it that hinders one's progress.'

    When this seeing occurs it is called clairvoyance, and this hearing is called clairaudience. How wrongly these words are used today! Anyone who is troubled in his mind, who wants to know the future and speak about it, is called a clairvoyant. In reality this gift of seeing and hearing is a gift from the divine Being. The one who has this power is entrusted with the secret of life. The more he claims and the more he attracts people, the more he sins against the law of divine nature. It should be understood that at the time when this seeing and hearing begin an initiation is given, and man becomes responsible for the secrets revealed to him. Besides, if a man was not prepared, if he had not reached a certain point, what would be the benefit of it? On one occasion I was amused to hear a man say, 'The condition of our country? We have so much freedom that we do not know what to do with it.' It is the same with a person who can see and hear; he finds so much to see that he does not know what to do. The Sufi, therefore, is grateful for what he sees and hears, and also grateful for what he does not see and hear. He learns resignation on the path of the divine voyage.

    Now one might ask, what kind of preparation is needed? The answer is: a moral preparation; but not in the sense that we understand the word 'moral' in everyday life. What we understand is selfish, because we judge another according to our law instead of considering him according to his law. According to the Sufi idea moral is a different thing, especially in regard to this preparation; it is consideration of the law of friendship, of the relationship with one's elders or superiors or those who are younger or inferior. Although friendship is a simple thing to consider, it is most difficult to practice it. If we live a life of friendliness there is nothing better we can live for, and if we know the principle of friendship we do not need the moral of the world. If instead of his own advantage and rules of conduct a man considers the advantage and rules of another person, then he begins to see that person's soul, but as long as he sees the other as a separate being different from himself he will see him wrongly.

    Therefore, what Sufism offers are facilities for becoming acquainted with these ideas. After this acquaintance naturally the soul unfolds, and as a natural consequence of the soul's unfoldment it gradually hears more and more.

The Path of Meditation

    There is a trace of the meditative to be found in all ages, and yet no one can fully explain in words why people perform their meditations or what they experience while doing so. In order to make this more tangible I would like to say that life can be divided into two sections: the outer life and the life within. There are very few even among the intellectual who will readily agree when I say that there exists a life within, since their intellect has kept them occupied with the life outside. They have only known the life outside; the experience they have had of the outer life by the help of reason and logic is their only experience, and it is this which they call their learning or knowledge. If one speaks of anything else to them they will say, 'This is a mystification, it is confusing, what we would like as proof is a phenomenon!' Besides, words can say so little about something that is only experienced by the meditative. How can a person who has had a certain pain, a pain which is not experienced by anyone else, explain to another how it feels? It is the one who experiences the pain who knows what it is. Therefore we can put into words all fine experiences in life and yet express so little of them.

    In order to simplify this idea I would like to divide these two aspects, the meditative and the worldly, into two categories. One is connected with action, the other with repose. Much as action is needed in life, repose is just as necessary; and sometimes repose is even more necessary than action. All such complaints as nervous illnesses and disorders of the mind come from lack of repose. This realm of life which is explored by meditation is the world of repose. And as one can say that by a certain kind of work one has gathered this or that experience, or has had a certain success, or has added a particular aspect to one's knowledge, so one can also say that by this method of repose one has acquired a certain strength, illumination, and peace.

    And when we go a little further we will find that it is this concept of repose which the wise turn into a method, considering it most sacred, for by this process they attain to something much more valuable than anything our actions can bring us.

    The first step on this path of meditation may be called concentration. This means the ability to control our mind, which is sometimes active with our will and sometimes without it. What we call imagination is an automatic working of the mind, and what we call thought is an action of mind and will. Therefore such words as 'imaginative' and 'thoughtful' distinguish the condition of the mind: that we either allow our mind to work as it wishes, or use our mind to work according to our will.

    Another thing that can be accomplished by concentration is the following. The mind is a storehouse of all the impressions that one has gathered through the five senses; and the most wonderful phenomenon that one can perceive is that every one of those impressions is at hand as soon as the mind asks it to present itself before one. They instantly come to be used. For instance an artist wants to paint a wonderful picture. He would like it to be a picture of a man, but at the same time an unusual one. As soon as he closes his eyes images of the horns of an animal, of the wings of a bird, and of the body of a fish present themselves, and then he paints a figure with horns, wings, and the body of a fish, combining all into a fabulous whole. Now what would one call this action? This action is an action of the will of the artist, who wanted to produce something wonderful, and the mind was instantly ready to supply from the storehouse all that the artist wished.

    Another side of this question is that imagination also helps concentration. As soon as a person has imagined a running stream, he also imagines the rocks near by and the beautiful scenery which is round the spring. From this we learn that concentration is not only something that is practiced by a mystic or a philosopher, but everybody--in business, in his art, in industry--practices concentration to some extent. At the same time it is concentration which makes a person a genius, it is concentration which brings success, and it is concentration which is the mystery of the accomplishment of all things.

    And when one goes a little further on the same path one finds that there is contemplation, which means the retaining of the same thought or thought-picture. The distinction between concentration and contemplation is that the former is the composition of a form, and the latter is the retaining of this impression, of this form. It is difficult to explain to what extent the power of contemplation works; those who are acquainted with the working of contemplation can only call its result a phenomenon. The reason is that the mind is creative because the divine spirit is creative, and became the divine spirit is creative therefore the mind inherits, as its divine heritage, the faculty of creating. No one, however material, will deny the fact that all beauty and art, through whatever realm it is manifested, through science or industry, is a phenomenon of the mind. All the wonderful things made in the world in the way of inventions, of architecture, of art, have come as a phenomenon of the mind. But they are mostly the phenomena of an active mind, and one does not realize how great the phenomena are when produced by a controlled mind, controlled through concentration and contemplation.

    And when we proceed still further we come to the aspect we call meditation, an experience which is brought about by a perfect control of the mind and by rising above the action of the mind, an experience by which the inner side of life begins to reveal itself. For instance if you ask a person, 'Tell me about your being, what you know about it', he will say, 'I have a physical body composed of five senses, subject to sensation, pleasure, pain, decay, and disease. And if I have anything more, perhaps somewhere in my brain I have the faculty of thinking. Perhaps, as many scientists say, it is an impression in my brain of all the things I have seen; and that is what I know of my mind. If there is anything else I know about myself it is a feeling, which I may call love or sympathy, but I do not know where it is; perhaps it is a sensation like the other sensations which I perceive. Besides this I do not know anything about myself except the affairs that I have to attend to in my everyday life.' This shows that the majority of people, and a very large majority, know very little about themselves; what they know about themselves is that limited part which cannot be compared with the part that is to be found within.

    Should not this part then, which is much larger and of the greatest importance, be explored? And is it not great negligence on the part of man, which may be called sleep, that he goes on, day after day, without giving even a thought to that part of his being which is of much greater importance than the part he knows? In spite of all the wealth that one may earn, and in spite of all one's success and the rank and position that one may attain, one has lost a great deal if life is lost, and if that part of oneself is not found which is so much higher and greater, and which can be called sacred or the heritage of the divine Being. It is the inner self, and it can be explored by the path of meditation. When once this part of oneself is discovered then realization comes in the form of light, and this light becomes like the lantern of Aladdin, which was found with great difficulty, but when it was directed on to life it made life reveal itself.

    In India there is an amusing story which illustrates this idea. A young lad was sent to school. He began his lessons with the other children, and the first lesson the teacher set him was the straight line, the figure 'one'. But whereas the others went on progressing, this child continued writing the same figure. After two or three days the teacher came up to him and said, 'Have you finished your lesson?' He said, 'No, I am still writing "one".' He went on doing the same thing, and when at the end of the week the teacher asked him again he said, 'I have not yet finished it.' The teacher thought he was an idiot and should be sent away, as he could not or did not want to learn.

    At home the child continued with the same exercise, and the parents also became tired and disgusted. He simply said, 'I have not yet learned it, I am learning it. When I have finished I shall take the other lessons.' The parents said, 'The other children are going on further, the school has given you up, and you do not show any progress; we are tired of you.' And the lad thought with sad heart that as he had displeased his parents too he had better leave home. So he went into the wilderness and lived on fruits and nuts. After a long time he returned to his old school, and when he saw the teacher he said to him, 'I think I have learned it. See if I have. Shall I write on this wall?' And when he made his sign the wall split in two.

    What does this story tell us? It tells us that there is another direction of learning which is quite contrary to what we generally understand by learning. When this lad was taught to write 'one', he could not see beyond 'one'. He thought: two is one and one. What is four? It is one and one and one and one. It was to this 'one' that he put his mind, and when he went into the wilderness what was his contemplation? Every tree suggested the same figure 'one' to him; every plant, everything in nature he saw as 'one', because everything in nature is unique, and it is the uniqueness in nature which is the proof of the oneness behind it all. This symbolical story of the wall being split in two explains that when the meditative person has developed the sense of oneness, wherever he casts his glance, on a human being, on an object, it will open itself just as the wall opened into two, and it will show him its character, its nature, its secret, and its mystery. People who read occultism say that there are three eyes, and that the third is the inner eye. What does this mean? It means that the very two eyes we have turn from two into one. When a person meditates upon the One, and when he realizes One, then his eyes become one; and in becoming one this eye obtains such power that it pierces all things and knows all things. It is for this knowledge that the eye opens.

    But now one might ask a question. Today we live in a world of struggle, where there is not only struggle to gain things of our choice and longing, but even the struggle for a living, the struggle for existence. What can one do under such conditions, and what shall we attain by coming to the realization about which I have spoken? The answer is that this difficulty of life which we experience just now is not a difficulty which arises from the conditions; it comes from our individual selves. It is we who cause this difficulty, it is not that the conditions have made it difficult for us. It is not true that the world is small and its population vast; the world would be large enough to accommodate a population ten times greater, if only man were as he ought to be, if he were humane, if his feelings towards others were what they should be. It is not that in this world there is a shortage of all that is good and beautiful and of all that we need. The shortage is in our hearts: we do not want others to have anything. And it is the culture of humanity which will bring about better conditions, and not this outer change with which many occupy themselves, thinking that through this change the condition of the world will improve.

    Man experiences a kingliness of soul when he gets into touch with his inner being, and he experiences slavery, in spite of all that he may possess in life, if he has not come into touch with his inner self. But, one may say, can a meditative person not explain in words the knowledge that he receives, so that others can read such a book and thus acquire this knowledge? But I should like to say that of a man who had traveled to Venice gave an account of what he had seen there, it would entertain you for a moment, but it would not give you the same joy as you would experience by traveling to Venice yourself. That which a meditative person experiences in his meditation is not a speculation, neither is it a kind of conception or idea that a man can clothe in the form of poetry, that he can explain, that he can express.

    Besides, what is our language made of? It is composed of names which were given to objects, to things that are intelligible to us. There are no words which can express that which is unintelligible; and the experience which is beyond words cannot be experienced by the help of explanations. When not even our everyday experiences such as gratefulness, sympathy, pity, devotion, can be explained in words, then such a feeling as is experienced by coming into the state of meditation, by being in communion with one's inner self, is so sacred that it can in no way be explained in words. That is why in the East this way is sought under the guidance of those who have trodden this path.

The Sufi Ideal

    The word Sufi, although it comes from a Greek root which means 'wisdom', has yet another meaning, which is from the Arabic, and that is 'pure'. One often wonders what this purity implies. In our everyday life we have corrupted many words, and we interpret such words according to our own understanding; thus many of us speak of goodness as purity, while others call moral character purity. But to a mystic purity means something quite different.

    A mystic gives to purity its natural meaning. Pure water means that nothing is mixed with the water, that there is no other element in it, and therefore purity is that substance within oneself which is pure. As soon as this substance is realized one finds that all qualities such as good or bad, right or wrong, exist outside purity, since there is no goodness which is not touched by what may be called evil, nor is there any evil which has no touch of goodness. There is no wrong which has no right side to it, and there is no right which has not got a wrong side to it. Therefore as one comes to realize this purity one becomes reluctant to express an opinion about anything or anybody. It is always the foolish who are readiest to express their opinion about others; the wiser the person the less inclined he feels to form an opinion of anyone else. If he has to say anything about someone it is only good. Besides, no one who has once realized this purity tries to force his belief or his opinion upon another, because as soon as the purity which is within is realized, he no longer has an opinion which can be expressed in words.

    There are three steps to this purity. When a person takes the first step he distinguishes between right and wrong. When he takes the second step he only sees the right and overlooks the wrong. But when he takes the third step then his heart can see even the right of the wrong. One might say that a realization such as this would upset the whole conception of right and wrong, and also the standard set by the nations or by religion. Yes, this is true; but at the same time keeping in harmony with the world, with those one lives with, does not mean that one should close one's eyes and not see the truth. It is for this reason that the Sufi says: do as the others do, live as the others live, think as the others think, but feel as you yourself feel and realize life as your soul guides you.

    There is one sin, if ever sin existed, and it is expressed in the story of Adam. This sin becomes apparent from the time that the infant begins to come to childhood: the soul experiencing the kingship of infancy and beginning to feel 'I', 'I am separate from the others'--that is the exile from the Garden of Eden. As soon as the soul begins to say 'I' he is exiled from heaven, for all blessings belong to that state which the soul experienced before he claimed to be 'I', a separate entity, separate from the others. It is because of this that man, whatever his position, whatever his situation in life, is not fully happy. The trouble of one may perhaps be greater than that of another, but both he who resides in heavenly palaces and the inhabitant of a grass hut have their troubles; both have their pain.

    But man finds the reason for all affliction in the life outside him. The Sufi finds it in that one sin, that of having claimed to be 'I'. With this claim came all the trouble, it continued, and it will always continue. This sin has such a hold upon the soul that it is just like the eclipse of the sun, when its light is covered and cannot shine. In everyday life one may sometimes find this claim and the spirit of 'I' helpful, and so the practical man looks upon a person who has less of this element as weak; he thinks that he is unpractical. If this person seems more simple he calls him dreamy, he will say that he is floating in the air. But after all, how long does this practical sense last, and to what end does it lead? The end of the one who was practical and the end of the unpractical one are the same.

    There is the story of a Sufi who met a young man while traveling and said to him, 'Come and see me if you pass the village where I live; you might call on me.' This young man asked, 'May I know the name of the place where you live?' The Sufi said, 'The place of liars, it is near the temple.' This young man was very confused; he thought the Sufi was speaking all the time of truth, and yet saying he lived in the place of liars! When he arrived at the village he tried to find the Sufi, but no one knew where the place of liars was. He only found it in the end when he came near the temple and saw the Sufi there. He said, 'The first question that arises in my mind is why do you call this place the place of liars?' The Sufi said to the young man, 'Come along with me, we shall go for a little walk in the graveyard, which is just close by.'

    Then he said, 'They say that here the prime minister was buried, and here the king was buried, and here the chief judge, and here a very great general. Were they not liars? Here they are proved to be liars. They are nothing but the same in the same ground; they are buried with everybody else. They had the same end as all others. If that is the end, then think of the beginning. In the beginning there was no such thing as distinction either. No infant is born into this world saying, "I am so and so, my name is so and so, my position is such and such." All this the soul has learned after coming here. The soul has learned the first lie in saying "I", as a separate identity; and after that first lie a man tells numberless lies.' Thus the teaching and the occupation of the Sufi is to erase that error from the surface of his heart, and therefore the first and last lesson that the Sufi learns is: I am not, Thou art. And when the false claim no longer exists in his consciousness, then the claim can be made which is expressed in the Bible that first was the Word, and the Word was God. And by listening to that divine Word, by giving himself to that Word, the Sufi experiences the heavenly joy which is incomparable, the joy which is ecstasy.

    There is only one thing in the world that cannot be defined, and that is the idea of God. If it could be defined it would not be God, because God is greater than His name and higher than our comprehension of Him. We call Him God; if we did not call Him God then what would we call Him? But by giving a name to the nameless, by making a concept of someone who is beyond conception, we only make Him limited; at the same time, if we did not do so then we would not be doing what we ought to do. My meaning is this, that in order to respect a great man we should have some conception of what greatness is; but our conception is not of that great man as he really is, it is the idea that we have made of him. Twenty admirers of a great personality would each have his own conception of that personality.

    And I might also say that each of the twenty has his special great person, and that thus there are twenty great persons instead of one; only, the one name causes these twenty persons to unite under it. The Hindus have said: as many men, so many gods, and it was not an exaggeration; it only meant that every man has his own conception of God. It is necessary first to have a conception of God in order to reach the stage at which one realizes Him. If a man did not believe a personality to be great he would not be able to see into the greatness of that personality. He must first have the conception that there is something great in it. Thus we first make our God before we come to the realization of Him.

    Belief in God leads to that perfection which is the quest of the soul. But it is not only belief, for there are numberless souls in this world that believe in God; but do you think that they are very far advanced? Often you find that those who claim to believe in God may be much more backward than those who make no such claim. Belief in God should serve the purpose of purification, the purity which is the ideal attainment for man; and which is attained by meditation. In this purity is fulfilled the purpose of life.

The Development of Personality

    It is as important to think about the development of personality as it is to think about spirituality. A poet from Delhi says, 'If God had created man to offer Him prayers there are many angels to do this. Man was created to become human.'

    Many think that nature is greater than art. I say: art perfects nature. Someone proudly told me, 'I was brought up by my parents just like a plant.' And I said, 'It is a great pity.' When people say one should let children alone, let them go their own way, this means that although they live in the world which is itself a work of art they do not give their children any education in that art which is needed for living in this world. By this I do not mean that one should not be natural. One should develop naturally, for if one remains undeveloped one loses a great deal. Even if one were a spiritual person and the personality was not developed one would be missing a great deal in life. The personality must be developed. Parents think very little about this nowadays; they think that these are old-fashioned ideas; to be new-fashioned is to overlook all these things. But I say that it is not so at all; it is just the fashion to think about it in this way.

    Individuality is one thing and personality is another. A soul is born an individual, but without a personality. Personality is built after one is born. What the soul has brought along is hands and legs and face, but not personality; this is made here on earth.

    Very often people have taken the ascetic path and have gone where they could keep away from the world. Because they did not care for the personality, for the self, they kept themselves aloof from the crowd. In this way they are free to be as they wish to be; if they want to be like a tree or a plant or a rock they may. But at the same time, when it comes to personality it is a different thing. You can either have a manner or not have it; you can either have an ideal or not have one; you can either have principles or be without them; you can either be conventional or not. All these things have their place; manner, conventionality, principle, ideal, all have their value in life. And the person who goes about without considering any of these things is just like a wild horse let loose in the city, running here and there, frightening everybody and causing a lot of harm. That is what an untrained personality is.

    Real culture is a matter of personality, not mathematics or history or grammar. All these different studies are practical studies, but the real study is how to develop personality. If you are a business man, a lawyer, a professional man., an industrialist, a politician, whatever be your occupation in life, you are forced, expected, to have a personality in every walk of life. It is the personality of the salesman which sells, not always the goods. In the case of a doctor it is his personality which can heal and cure a person much sooner than medicine can.

    There are four different grades of evolution, and these differ according to the four different kinds of personality. A person is either born in it or a person evolves through it. The first grade is called Ammara in Sufi terms, and it denotes a person who is coarse and crude, thoughtless and ill-mannered. And ill manner is connected with ill luck, and so whenever there is thoughtlessness there is failure connected with it; whenever there is blindness there is always a disaster. This is the first kind of person.

    When a man is a little more evolved then there comes a certain consideration, a civilized manner, a refinement, a choice of action. This is called Lauwama. A person who has advanced to the third stage, Mutmaina, is still further developed. It is not only that he is thoughtful but he is sympathetic, it is not only that he is considerate but he is kind, it is not only that he has a civilized manner but he has a natural politeness, it is not only that he is refined but he is tender-hearted. And when a person goes still further then he has an even greater charm of personality, then there is calm, quietness, gentleness, mildness, tolerance, forgiveness, and understanding of all beings.

    It is when this fourth personality, or Alima, is developed that a person is entitled to embark on the spiritual path. Until then he is not entitled to go on it. The modern way of recognizing the wrong kind of equality has taken away the idea of better personality. That respect and appreciation which were due to a higher personality is taken away by this madness of equality. If a person has no ideal before him to reach up to then he has no way in which to progress. People who think, 'I am satisfied as I am. I earn so much money every day, is this not sufficient?' have nothing to reach up to. In spite of all the faults and errors of the ancient peoples they at any rate always kept this thought alive.

    There is a story of a dervish, who was standing in the middle of the street when the procession of the king came along. First the pages who ran before the procession pushed him and said, 'Don't you see the king is coming? Away!' The dervish smiled and said, 'That is why.' Then he went forward again and stood in the same place. When the horsemen, the bodyguard, arrived they said, 'Get out of the way, the procession is coming!' The dervish smiled and said, 'That is why.' Then the courtiers came and saw the dervish standing there. And instead of telling the dervish to get out of the way they moved their horses a little to one side. And again the dervish said, 'That is why.' Finally came the king. When the king saw the dervish he greeted him first, and the dervish in answer said, 'That is why'. An intelligent young man who had seen and heard this asked, 'What do you mean by saying this?' And the dervish said, 'You can see, that is why they are what they are!'

    We have wiped this ideal from our minds. Where is the real democracy? The kingliness of greeting the dervish first, that is democracy. But when a man who is not evolved is pulling the most evolved down to his level, that is the wrong democracy; it is going downward instead of going upward. If mannerlessness and thoughtlessness can be democracy it takes away its real ideal and true spirit. Democracy is the result of aristocracy; when the spirit of aristocracy has evolved enough then it becomes democracy. Then a person thinks, 'I am the equal of any person in the world; there is no person lower than me ;' but if a person says, 'There is no one higher than me,' that is not democracy.

    I will give an example of true democratic religious feeling. The people of Burma are Buddhists, and they are of a wonderful type. Here you will find the one race who for centuries has believed that there is no religion inferior to theirs. Just think of it today, when the followers of a particular religion look down upon the followers of any other religion! But these people say, 'Whatever be the religion, Christian, Muslim, or Jewish, it is not worse than ours. Perhaps it is even better.' This is something wonderful, but when a person says, 'No one is better than I', that is not democracy; it is going down, for it means closing our eyes to that which is greater, higher, and better. And if we cannot appreciate, cannot see, then we cannot rise to it. We can only rise towards that which we value and to which we aspire.

    If, instead of telling people simple things like this, I were to speak about occult power, psychic power, spirit communication, breathing practices, they would be glad to hear me. But suppose one did not develop personality, what about spirituality? A man should first of all be a person; then only should he be spiritual. If he is not a person then what is the use of being spiritual? Man is born to fulfill the purpose of his life; he is made to be a man, a human being, a man who can be relied upon, a man whose word can be accepted, who uses thought and consideration, to whom we can entrust our secret; a man who under all conditions will never humiliate himself, who will never go back on his word, who will not deceive or cheat anybody; a man who will carry out what he has once undertaken. All these qualities make a man a human being. Today our condition is such that we cannot believe each other's word. We have to have a stamp on a contract. Why are we in such a state? Became we are not evolving towards that great ideal which the ancient people had, that is why we cannot trust each other individually, that is why nations cannot trust each other. Human beings live only in order to exist from day to day, to strive and work for a loaf of bread. That is all. But is it all? If it is only to earn a loaf of bread we do no better than dogs or cats.

    Rich and poor, all are wretched in every walk of life, because there is nothing but competition between individuals, nations, parties, and communities. We have made our life wretched. What are we here for? If we were only born to meditate and to be spiritual then we had better go into the forest or to the mountain caves; then it would not be necessary to remain in the world. And if we only had to live as the animals do then we could do as worldly people are generally doing today, and accomplish nothing. Therefore the first necessity for those who are seeking after truth is to develop the spirit of personality. I remember a quotation: 'If one has gold and jewels it means nothing; if one has no personality they are valueless; then nothing is valuable.' Personality can be more valuable than wealth. How strange it is that there is such a large population in this world, and that there are so few personalities. It is as the Greek philosopher said, who was going about with a lantern in daylight, and when people asked him what he was looking for he answered, 'For a human being.'

    This subject has only been overlooked; it is not that man is not capable of understanding it. Man is capable of it more than ever before, because he has so much to suffer. This life as we live it is a most painful life. It crunches and grinds him to make him a better man. If he gave his thought to it he would profit by it and would become a better person. In ancient times people underwent different ordeals, trials, and tests. We today do not need to do this. We have other trials today, we do not need to seek for them. If we only knew how to profit by them! At this time, when every little bone and piece of skin of every animal is used for something, we yet do not make use of our own life's experience, which is more precious than anything else. If there is news of an oil-well or a gold-mine everyone is interested, but people are not interested in this gold- and silver-mine, this mine of jewels and gems, the cultivation of which will produce all that can be produced! They do not think about the most valuable thing of all. Nevertheless, the great gurus and teachers of all times have put much emphasis on this one point, that those who wish to seek after truth must above all give their thought and mind to the development of personality.

Sufi Psychology

    There is much in our lives that depends upon suggestions, suggestions which come from outside, either consciously or unconsciously, as well as suggestions which come to us from ourselves. The superstitions which existed in ancient times and which still exist in some countries tell us something of the psychology of suggestion. If a person saw a certain bird, a certain animal, before beginning his work, that impression affected his work. If a man, when starting some business or industry or new enterprise, met with an unpleasant incident or a disagreeable person, naturally this brought him ill luck. On the other hand, if he encountered desirable conditions and people with a good influence his whole life might be changed. People called this superstition; in fact it is a science, it is the psychology of impressions. It is in accordance with every impression which is made on us that our life works.

    The greatest impression is made by the word. The Bible says, 'In the beginning was the Word ... and the Word was God', which tells us of the creative power of the word: that the word is as creative as God Himself. In the East, in good families, children were taught when quite young to avoid words which might cause ill luck; such expressions as boys use, 'I will kill you', 'I will shoot you', or as are used by girls, 'I wish I were dead', 'I wish that it was all destroyed'. The children were taught never to use words with a destructive meaning; for as far as we know at a certain time a universe may be connected with the word of man, and the word he speaks may come true. If he had spoken of something he did not wish to happen it would have been better not to have said it. People do not think about this. They say things as a joke, things that might cause serious trouble in their lives or in the lives of their friends, nor realizing how great is the power of words in our lives. Therefore the great teachers have made a science of words, so that by the repetition of certain words a definite result can be produced in one's character, in one's circumstances, or even that a person can help another by the use of a certain word.

    Man's character can be changed by the repetition of certain words, entirely changed; the results brought about by their repetition are wonderful. Thus suggestion often proves to be the secret of a miracle. It is a field which still remains unexplored by science, and the more man gets to know about it, perhaps in five centuries from now, the more he will begin to believe that behind suggestion the spirit of God is hidden, the secret of the whole of creation.

    Now coming to the question of attraction and repulsion, why are we drawn towards some people, and why do we feel repulsion in regard to others? I would say that it is the same with souls as with the notes in music. It is their combination which makes the notes either harmonious or inharmonious; it is not the notes themselves. Every note is harmonious enough if put with other harmonious notes, the notes which blend and make a consonant chord. Therefore it is wrong to say. 'That person is inharmonious', or 'harmonious'. It is the blending of persons that proves either harmonious or inharmonious in accordance with their grouping.

    It is the same with color. No color is inharmonious, however striking or however pale. If it is in its right place, if it is well blended with other colors, it is harmonious; it is inharmonious if it is not put next to colors that blend with it. And it is exactly the same with human nature. The wise person can get on with another who is near to him in wisdom, or he can get on with a foolish person; but a wise man has difficulty in getting on with the semi-wise, because the semi-wise makes it difficult for him. With a strong person another who has strength himself will get on all right, as well as the one who is quite feeble, but not the halfstrong. This proves to us that there are two principles to be understood. The person must either be of the opposite quality, or he must be of the same quality to blend harmoniously with the other. In other words, with a black coat either a black tie will be worn or a white tie; when the tie is of another color then there is disharmony.

    The reason why the same quality is attracted is that like attracts like. Water attracts water, fire attracts fire; all elements attract their like, so every person attracts his like. A thief, wherever he goes, will find another thief; wherever a gambler goes he finds another gambler; wherever a drunkard goes he finds another man who drinks. And it is extraordinary that very often the first person these people will meet when they come to a town will be of their own kind; they attract each other unconsciously. If they are traveling they will be sitting in the same compartment, brought together by destiny. The wicked will be attracted by another wicked person, just at the meeting of a glance. They instantly become friends. But if a person is half-wicked he will not get along with the wicked one, although the wicked might get along with a good person because then he finds his opposite. The reason for the attraction of opposites is that the one lacks what the other has, and therefore one has power over the other.

    Then there is the law of positive and negative forces. Where there are two people of positive nature there is always trouble, nor can two people of negative nature get along together. But the positive person can get along with someone who is negative, because the negative person needs what the positive one has. A talkative person is never happy with another talkative person; he wants someone who will listen to him.

    Besides these laws there is an attraction of quality. There is a noble quality in every person, and there is a common quality. A noble quality is repulsed by commonness, and the common quality is irritated by the noble quality. It is such an amazing thing to see that someone of noble quality can be repulsed by a person of common quality. He gets irritated and cannot stand it, for the one quality cannot be compared with the other. It is the same with the quality of sincerity and that of insincerity. An insincere person is as antagonistic to a sincere person as a sincere person is to one who is insincere. The insincere cannot conceive of another being sincere; even if he saw it he could not believe it, because he does not know anything except insincerity.

    Among Hindus there is a custom, a custom which still exists, that when a marriage is contemplated a Brahmin is consulted, a special priest, and he comes with It is books of horoscopes. And after he has nude his calculations he decides whether the marriage can take place or not. But in reality the drawing of the horoscopes is an excuse. He is a psychologist, and he considers the question whether the two who are to be married have the same qualities.

    The Brahmins conceived of three qualities: Manusha, Deva, and Rakshasa, which means the human quality, the angelic quality, and the animal quality. The one left out was the devilish quality; may be they did not have it at that time! And then they saw if the two young people who were going to marry both belonged to Manusha, Deva, or Rakshasa; and if they found that for instance the girl was of the angelic quality and the man of the animal quality, then they thought, 'It will never go right'; and they advised against the marriage. But if they thought that the man was of the human quality then they allowed it, because then there was only a difference of one degree, not of two degrees. The great and countless difficulties that are experienced today in marriage come from lack of consideration of these qualities. There is now a kind of false conception of equality; everyone says, 'I am as good as you', but therefore there is no chance to be better.

    I shall always remember an old man in India telling me, 'The moment you think you are good, learned, wise, you close your heart's door to goodness, learning, and wisdom.' The spirit of today is that a child begins to say, 'I know what you do not know.' There is no regard for the idea that another knows more, there is no appreciation of it. It is because something is missing in education; the children are not taught that way. What they are taught is self-pride, and even that is a false quality. True pride should be based upon a stronger foundation: the nobility of the soul. False pride must break one day or another. That is why the consideration of individuality seems to be lost.

    A poet once said, 'Lord, let me not live in a world where camphor, cotton, and bone are all considered white.' Now our world is becoming more and more like that every day. If there is a distinction it is of money, of rank, of position, but not of human quality. The real distinction is not recognized; if there is any disparity it is what sort of house one lives in, what position one holds, or how much money one has in the bank. Therefore instead of evolving mankind is losing its opportunity.

The Meaning of Faith

    Often people use the word 'faith' in the sense of the particular religion they follow, whether they belong to the Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, or another religion. And in this way they obscure the real meaning of faith, which is light itself. Faith is not necessarily a belief, but faith is the culmination of belief. Belief is a conception, a conception which one has formed oneself or a conception of a certain idea arrived at by reading something. A person will hold this belief as long as his reason is not strong enough to root it out, or as long as he does not meet someone who will dig it out, or as long as he has not had an experience which entirely destroys it. How many does one see in the world around, counting spiritual words on their rosary, sitting in churches with eyes closed, worshipping every Sunday; and yet when someone who is more intellectual and whose reasoning is more powerful meets them he is able to change them completely. From being orthodox such a person has become a practical man, from a dreamer he has become. wide awake!

    No doubt one belief can be stronger than another. A sheeplike belief is a belief which everyone holds without admitting it. People think that they have a reason for believing that which they believe, but this is not always so. Often a person thinks that he has a reason for something, but he may be wrong. Religious questions apart, when one comes to political matters, a man may be raised up by one person's influence and the whole country follows him; he becomes the man of the day. Everyone follows him with his eyes shut. But then he may be despised by someone else and the crowd despises him too. That is crowd psychology. At the same time everyone says, 'I am an intellectual. I always tell the truth for I know what I am speaking about.' But is it so? It is not. When I went to Russia I saw pictures of the Czar and the Czarina in every little shop. Do you think the people did not have a feeling of adherence to the Czar? Was it all hypocrisy? It could not have been. And what happened the next day? They broke the crowns in the street with hammers and carried them in their     processions. Where had that belief gone, which one day was so great that they thought that the portrait of their Czar was sacred? Next day the belief was changed; it took no time. You may think, 'This happened in Russia'; but you will see it in every country just by studying the psychology of the crowd.

    Therefore wise people have never depended upon the praise of the crowd. They have always known that it was worth nothing. Buddha, with all the worship and praise given to him did not even look at it. He kept his work before his eyes, his service to humanity, and so did all the sages and prophets and seers and thinkers; they never believed in the praise of mankind, in its love and affection. What is it? The man who has not reached the realm of faith is not living; he does not yet know his mind. One day he believes something, the next he does not. Therefore faith is not only adherence to a certain religion or belonging to a certain church; faith is much greater than that.

    The next step on the path of belief is that one does not believe something because the crowd believes it, but because it comes from a certain authority. This is the child's belief, but at the same time this is the way one has to go. The child progresses when the mother says, 'This is called water', and it repeats, 'Water'. It does not argue and say, 'It is not water, it is bread.' It just listens and believes, and that is the way it begins to learn.

    Then there is the third step, when the belief has a reason, when one says, 'Why do I believe? Because I have a reason for it. I can explain my belief; therefore I believe it is such and such.' This belief is more dependable. Yet, is reason always dependable? Reason sometimes proves to be so tricky that one day a person may reason out a certain thing, and the next day he has every reason to root out his belief. For is it not reason that makes the evildoer commit evil? No one does anything without reason. One day a person reasons how to do something, and after only a couple of hours he may discover that it was not a good reason.

    But there is a fourth belief, which alone can really be called belief, a belief which does not even depend upon reason, a belief which is a natural belief; one cannot help having it. Nothing can root it out, no argument, no reasoning, no study, no practice, nothing can take it away from one, for it is a natural belief. This is what faith is. A person who has not reached this belief is still on the way, and he cannot say that he has faith.

    Faith is such a great virtue. Even in everyday life one cannot value enough a companion, a relative, a servant, or a friend who is faithful. There is no price for it, it is beyond price to have someone who is faithful, someone in whom one can have confidence, upon whom one can rely with closed eyes, of whom one can say that one is sure that he will never change his affection, his love, his kindness, his right feeling. If one has someone like this one should be most thankful, for it is more precious than any worldly treasure.

    If I had to describe the meaning of faith I would say that faith means self-confidence. The secret of faith is that it can be used as a medicine and better than medicine, as wealth and greater than wealth; it can be religion and greater than religion, happiness and greater than happiness. For nothing can buy or sell faith. If there is anything that can be called the grace of God it is faith and selfconfidence. It is something one can neither teach nor develop; it must be in one, and it can only be strengthened by loving it, by enjoying it. It develops by itself. If a person comes to me and says, 'I believe in you so much that I will believe anything you say; but I do not believe in myself', I will say, 'Thank you, I will not believe in you either. You had better believe in yourself first; then I can depend upon you.' What kind of belief is this? If a man does not believe in himself he will say one day, 'I believe in you', and the next day, 'I do not believe in you.' Besides, faith is inspiring, faith causes a man to be brave, courageous, successful, and faith makes life wonderful.

    Faith can be observed in five different aspects: faith in one's impulses, faith in one's reason, faith in one's principle, faith in one's ideal, and faith in God.

    It is the mystical temperament that causes a person to have faith in his impulse. When a mystic thinks, 'I must go to the North', he goes there. He does not ask himself why; he accepts the divine impulse, and he goes towards the North to meet whatever he may. If an impulse arises to do this business, to enter this profession, accomplish this or that, and a person does it there is something wonderful about it. Columbus is an example of this. He had the impulse to go and seek for India, and indeed he found a continent. The outer form of the impulse was wrong, but the inner right.

    The mystics of all ages have believed in this. They cannot help it, it is the mystical temperament. If a thousand people say, 'No, it is not right', they say, 'Yes, it is right. I must do it.' It is not necessary for everybody to become a mystic in order to have these impulses and listen to them. Listening to one's impulses is a question of temperament. There may be one man who has it, and another, perhaps a very intellectual man, thinks, 'Is it right or wrong? Shall I do it or shall I not do it?' And the time passes and the chance is lost. Out of a hundred people only one will follow his impulse, and ninety-nine will wait to see if something is right or wrong, light or heavy.

    The second aspect is faith in reason. The success of great inventors such as Edison depends upon faith in reason. If they had not had this faith they would not have been able to create successfully, but by having it they made wonderful inventions.

    The third aspect of faith is faith in one's principle. Principle makes one strong, if only one has faith in it. There is a story of the young Prophet, who was taking care of the cows on a farm. When some young men of his own age came and said, 'Mohammed, come along, we are going to town to have a good time!' Mohammed answered, 'No, I will take care of your cows and you go and have a good time. I won't leave my cows.'

    With this principle the Prophet began; and eventually the same principle made him what he was, so that thousands and millions of people for fourteen centuries have held the name of the Prophet as their strength and power.

    And then there is faith in the ideal. Those who had a high ideal for the welfare of their nation, of their race, of humanity, held their lives cheap. To give their life was nothing to them, their ideal was always greater. Not every man has faith in his ideal, but it gives great power and uplift, and raises a man from earth to heaven.

    Finally there is faith in God. People may say, 'Is it not imagination to have faith in God?' But he who really has faith in God can work wonders. Someone said to a Brahmin, 'How foolish, O Brahmin, to worship an idol, calling it God!' The Brahmin answered, 'If you have no faith and you worship the God who is in heaven He will not hear you. But if I have faith I will make this God of stone speak to me.'

    A preacher once told his audience, 'When you speak the Name of God with true faith you can walk on the waters'. There was a farmer standing there who was very pleased to hear this. He went home pondering upon it. Next day he went to the preacher and said, 'I could not understand all the dogmas and morals you preached, but one thing impressed me very much. Will you do me the great honor of having dinner with me?' The preacher accepted, and the farmer said that he would come to fetch him the next day. This the farmer did, and on their way they came to a river which they had to cross. So the preacher said, 'Where is the boat?' The farmer said, 'Boat? You taught me that if we pronounced the name of God we could walk on the water! Therefore I did not take my boat but walked on the water, as you said.' The preacher was very much afraid that he would have to walk on the water too, for he had never tried this. He said, 'Will you do it, please?' And the farmer did; but the preacher could not.

    Such is the phenomenon of faith. We may say, 'We have so much to do, so much to think about.' But to have faith is beyond all this; it is something which words cannot explain, something which springs up from the heart and which elevates man, raising him from the earth to the sky.

The Universe in Man

    If one would ask what is the cause of all the misery in life, the answer would be that there is one cause only and that is the limitation of life. Misery, pain, or sorrow of any kind comes from limitation. There may be poverty or illness or disappointment, but it is all limitation; and this has been found out by all the prophets and teachers of humanity. When Buddha was young he saw that there was great pain in the world, and his first thought was to find out what was behind it; and so it has been with all the great teachers. They all wanted to solve this one question, to find out what is the cause of all misery.

    The answer is this: if a person who lives in poverty is given all the money he wants, is he then perfectly happy? Or a sick man may have become well again, but is it enough for him to be well or does he want more? This shows that man is always searching for something, he does not know what. And when he tries to find out what he is looking for he thinks that it must be the thing which he lacks in life. But if that which was lacking is given to him, then he wants something else. Well, this shows that it is not only greed or a defect in man; it indicates a great mystery in his soul, and that mystery is that the soul of man has all that it needs, and yet it has lost it. The story of Adam's exile tells us of this: by the exile of man is meant that which man lacks in life.

    What remedy did the teachers of humanity find at last? They discovered that in the depths of man was the universe itself, that man was a miniature in himself. And when we look at it more closely by throwing a spiritual light upon this question, we shall find that the entire mineral kingdom, rock, stone, diamond, or ruby, is all to be found in man. There is a kind of man who is just like a rock. There is the heart of man which is like a diamond, and there is the heart which is just like a ruby. The more you study this the more you will realize that everything that is to be found in the mineral kingdom you can also find in the mind of man. You will find the fire of sulfur in man's mentality, and you will find the resonance of the metal of the gong or bell in the heart of man. You will find the quality of sandalwood in the character of man, and you will find the value of the pearl in his intelligence. Fruit and flower, everything there is in the world, all is to be found in a man's character. And chemically speaking you will even find that in the body of man the essence of all things is to be found.

    Also, when we think of the sun and the moon, and of the stars and planets, we find that even the essence of these is to be found in man. It is this science that was known to the ancient people as alchemy, from which the word chemistry is derived. But the science of the ancients was concerned with the understanding or the study of man, of his body and of his mind. All other sciences they studied came from this particular science called alchemy. They discovered that all that man searches for outwardly he can find inwardly through the knowledge of this science.

    Of course, a person might then ask if we find all the objects or things that we can get in the world in ourselves. I will say, yes; even this is possible if one has come into touch with one's self. I can give you an example of a man whom I have known who lacked a certain quality in his blood. The scientists and physicians had given up all hope of saving him, for without this quality he could not get better. By giving him injections they sometimes made him feel better, but his sensation of improvement was only outward, and therefore it could not last. Then this man began studying and practicing this science of which I am speaking, and after two or three years he found that that quality which had been lacking in his blood was now coming by itself.

    Human nature is very much inclined towards what is called intoxication. The reason is that this intoxication gives a man a certain relaxation and temporary comfort. But to gain this comfort and relaxation he depends upon something from outside, and by doing so he becomes a slave to something which is outside himself. I have seen many mystical or spiritual people who practice this experience and they call it ecstasy; it is however not a real ecstasy or intoxication although it may seem to have the same effect, for a real intoxication does not take away one's vitality and it never causes illness. On the contrary, it gives greater health and greater strength; that is why you will always find that the health and strength of a mystic who knows and practices this science are in perfect order.

    The aim of this science is to come to the understanding that the whole universe is to be found in man. It is a science intended to make a person self-sufficient. For whatever man possesses, though he may be called rich or considered comfortable, this is only his possessions; it is not himself. The enriching of the self is the real riches; and to develop this power in oneself is the real, dependable power. Besides, what is called intellectuality today is mostly book-learning. A man goes on reading and reading for many years, and when his head has become tired he knows only what has been written in the books he has read. I have often seen people who had read a whole library, or had written many books, but if you asked them one question about life they could not answer it. It is not books that can teach us; it is life that is the greatest teacher, but when the mind is engaged with books then one is not open to read life.

    When I left India and went straight to New York my greatest astonishment was to see that in every train, bus, or car, every man had a newspaper in his hand. And what is a newspaper generally for? To amuse the most ordinary man in the street. Once a reporter came to see me and asked me about my philosophical ideas. I explained some of them to him; but the next day when I read his newspaper, I saw that everything that I had said was turned upside down. I was most disappointed. I went to the journalist and said, 'What did I tell you, and what did you make of it?' He said, 'Ill had written in the paper what you said nobody would understand it. We have to please the man in the street.' Now imagine, a professor, a doctor, a lawyer, a business man, all reading the same thing that the man in the street reads! This shows where man's thought is today. What he calls education is only book-learning; but what we need today is learning from life, for if we want to gain a thorough education it can only be gained by a keen observation of life.

    The most important subject to study in this whole life is ourselves. What we generally do is to criticize others, speak ill of them, or dislike them; but we always excuse ourselves. The right idea is to watch our own attitude, our own thought and speech and action, and to examine ourselves to see how we react upon all things in our favor and in our disfavor, to see whether we show wisdom and control in our reactions or whether we are without control and thought. Then we should also study our body, for by this we should learn that the body is not only a means of experiencing life by eating and drinking and making ourselves comfortable, but that it is the sacred temple of God.

    Besides, this breath which we breathe from morning till evening, we hardly consider what mystery is behind it. This one subject is of such great importance that if we really studied this science we would be able to understand the whole being. Yet this is the very thing of which everyone seems to be ignorant. People never think about it; they think we breathe and that is all, and they do not know how--and why. In point of fact there is something in the breath which connects the body with the soul, and the day when the breath leaves the body this connection is broken. The body remains on the earth, and the soul goes on; and therefore that which links the soul and body together must be of the greatest importance. The man who knows how to breathe and how to communicate with his soul begins to realize that the universe is within himself, and it is through realizing the universe in himself that man comes to real spirituality. Even in the Bible there is a hint about this science, though it is generally not interpreted in this way. I mean where it is said, 'Be ye perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect.' If there is a possibility for the soul to attain perfection that perfection lies in realizing the universe in man.

    The secret of this is that we are as small and as narrow as the horizon of our consciousness. And if our consciousness rises above these barriers which make us small we naturally become wide, and we naturally become great. Therefore spiritual perfection is attained by concentration and meditation. In the Western world today there is the school of the Sufi Movement, so that people need not go to the East in order to search for these things; and so that the same mystery, in a modified form--in order not to hinder their busy life--may be given to the Western people who can be trusted with it. For a Western person has many responsibilities in his life; he does not have time to meditate and to concentrate. Yet if a man of the West finds time for cricket or billiards, he can just as well find time for meditation and concentration. If he only believed in its benefit he would certainly do his best to spare some time for this most valuable thing. No doubt it is not at all our wish to awaken those who are asleep. Those who are asleep had better sleep, because for them sleep is good; they need sleep and they should sleep. But to those who are tossing in their beds, who are trying to get up, we offer our hands to help them to rise. It is this which we call initiation in the esoteric school of Sufism. Sufism is not something secret; only, as not everybody can understand it, we do not wish to give it to everybody to ridicule it. It is only entrusted to those serious people who will steadily go on in the path of divine wisdom.

    The Sufi Movement is a society of members from all the nations of the world, and the task they have is to serve in the cause of bringing people together, making them meet in wisdom. If we come together it is not for the sake of business or politics or industry, for that is a transient, not a stable unity. The stable unity lies in the understanding of the truth of life, in which we can all become friends. Two people who understand life well become closer than brothers, they become greater friends than any other friendship can produce. There is nothing that divides them, neither nationality nor race nor any other difference. But this task is only intended for those who are seriously inclined towards the understanding of the deeper side of life.

Wealth

    Wealth has always proved to be the central object in the life of the world, an object towards which every mind is naturally attracted and which can solve most of the problems of life. However earthly they may seem, all things become good or bad by their use or abuse. In all ages man has made coins of gold, and there man proves again his soul's longing for light, for gold is the color of light and among metals gold reflects the light most. In the Qur'an it is said, 'All that we have created on earth and in heaven is for thy use', which means: not for you to fear it or to hate it or to renounce it, but to use it. It is easy for the poor to ridicule wealth and the wealthy, but once the poor man possesses wealth then the question is whether he holds it or throws it away.

    We realize from this that it is important that man should learn first in his life the right use of wealth. This problem can be solved by first considering the question from all points of view, from the moral as well as from the psychological, and also from the social and political point of view: in what way wealth can be rightly acquired. The present chaotic state of the whole world is caused by the lack of this particular knowledge. Today man only knows one thing: he needs money, he must acquire money, and if he has money he must hold on to it. But still the question remains: why does he need money, how can he acquire money, and for what purpose shall he acquire it? Through lack of this knowledge both rich and poor are at a loss. The rich everywhere are anxious to hold what they have and are nervous; for if conditions go on as they are now, what will happen tomorrow? Their heart is not at rest, even with money locked up in their safe. The moneyless, striving every moment of their life to possess all that the wealthy have got, win it perhaps at the cost of the destruction of a nation or a race, of a moral code, or of culture and beauty and goodness. They only think of how to achieve this and how to take the wealth away from those who now possess it, but not how far they are justified in having the wealth which belongs to another, nor what use they will make of this wealth. This fight for life has so blinded humanity today that man is intoxicated in the struggle of life. He has no time to think of anything else, yet a thorough study of the problem from all points of view is the first thing necessary, and it can be the greatest help in living a better life and in doing good to one's fellowmen.

    Money being the principal thing for which man toils, he should know the best way to acquire it. He must first judge his talent, his capability, his art, profession, or work. He must judge fairly, without a personal thought, what he really deserves for what he does. Everyone is blind to this. A person only thinks of what another man earns, how very rich another person is, and how good it would be if he were in his place. Today man's cry for democracy is in order to pull down another man from his high place, instead of taking enough trouble to rise to high places by his own efforts and with the justification in his own conscience of deserving that place. Whatever man earns in life, and however great and rich he becomes through it, without the development of the sense of justice he is like a blind man. Externally a wealthy man seems enviable, but in point of fact, if one only knew his true condition, one would not envy his circumstances for a moment, for they not only blind him but blind those who surround him too; he has not only enemies among his adversaries, but he has enemies among his dearest friends. He may have an enemy in his brother or sister, in his wife or child. It is not their fault; it is that wealth is blinding. When a man develops his qualification, his merit, his talent, and when by that right he earns his living, he is quite justified in demanding what he really deserves. But man cannot be very just when there arises the question of self; therefore he must also be open to compare his idea of his qualifications with the opinion of others, and he should be ready to recognize the superiority of someone else's qualifications.

    Today man, blinded by the thought of competition and rivalry, ignores the superiority of talent, merit, art, or culture in another person.

    In business the honor of the word is the first lesson that every business man should learn. Honor in business is the first commercial virtue. At the same time, to fight avarice is the duty of every business man, and also to think of the advantage of both sides, of himself and of his customer. In modern trade, externally there is little bargaining, but the bargaining spirit exists inwardly. Business today is a battle between buyer and seller, the one wanting to succeed at the expense of the other. Therefore it is not a business; it is a battle, and a battle mostly results in destruction. Now, after all the profiteering during the war years, is there peace in the commercial world? Every business man is crying out with grievances, no matter to what country he may belong. This shows that in reality it is the profit of each which is the profit of all. Whether in art, industry, labor, the professions, or commerce, one thing must be kept in view, and that is consideration for others, with an eye open for justice and fairness.

    Today there is great conflict between capital and labor. The capitalists wish labor to be under their control and to work for their profit, so that they depend solely upon the power of capital. This spirit of selfishness, reacting upon the mind of the workman, revolts against the profit that the capitalist makes. The consequence is that this selfishness on both sides causes trade to dwindle. On one side the war has destroyed lives and wealth and food that nature had supplied for humanity, while the remaining destruction is caused by this dwindling. If labor absorbs all the capital, then the capital is in the hands of labor; however, the evolution of life in every direction, social, educational, moral, or religious, mostly depends on the mentality of those who are well off.

    There is a side issue of the present state of affairs which is its natural consequence, and that is the difference between the circumstances of a man who works with his hands and those of one who works with his head. Today, as conditions are, an intellectual man has the greatest struggle to live, and if they continue thus it will mean the ruination of the intellect in general, and instead of evolving the world will naturally go backward. The answer to the question whether the work of the hands deserves more wages than the work of the head, depends on whether the hand rules the mind or the mind rules the hand. Just now man is going from bad to worse. Doctors, professors, thinkers, teachers, poets and learned people have hardly enough money to live on, as labor demands higher wages than intellect does. Unions of workmen have spread all over the world, and in this way the conflict between the intellectual and the labor world becomes sharper every day.

    Now the question is, what can the solution of this problem be? Can the workman be at the same time a capitalist? Can a man who works with his hands not be a thinker at the same time? The answer will be: not necessarily, since for everything certain conditions are necessary. If the workman is a capitalist he is no longer a workman. While working, if he is going over his accounts in his mind he will spoil his work. Can a man of action be a man of thought at the same time? This is difficult too. Can a man be running after trains and buses and write poetry at the same time? For poetry he wants tranquillity of mind, comfort, ease. What is possible is this one thing: that the workman should have every opportunity to become a capitalist. In this way he could know both: how to be a workman and how to be a capitalist. The man who works with his hands should have the opportunity to develop intellectually. Every working man should be given a chance, so that if he has the faculty in him to become a thinking man he may grow up to become a thinking man, and so that he will not die at his work.

    There are two methods of progress, one right and the other wrong. The right way is to give equal opportunity to each to rise to his highest ideal; and the wrong way is when a man, revolted by present conditions, pulls down another who seems to him on any kind of eminence in the life of the world, so as to bring everyone down to the same level. This latter idea of equality can be pictured as a piano of which the strings are loosened to the same tone, perhaps of its lowest key. When each key sounds the same note, it cannot be a piano any more.

    The present tendency of man seems to be to try to pull another down instead of himself rising to the place where the other is. It takes a long time to build, but it takes only a moment to destroy a thing. It is the rising to the height which is difficult; it is not difficult to walk down the slope. Man today seems to seek the way of least resistance; to strive to rise needs patience and perseverance. Thus in order to become equal with others he wants to pull the others down to his own level.

    There is a great deal of talk going on in the world just now about communism. Yet if communism is devoid of a spiritual ideal, it could be only a change of condition on the surface. The extreme principles which man wishes to introduce in the form of communism may have the effect of destroying individual beauty and culture. There is more uniformity to be seen in the West than in the East. No doubt it has worked to the great advantage of the West, but at the sacrifice of individual progress; no thoughtful person can deny this. Great personages in any country of the East or West have become so by their individualistic progress, and it is the law of uniformity which hampers the progress of an individual. It also hampers the progress of art in all its forms, in architecture, in music, in poetry; for the majority pulls the minority back from progress. Under present conditions the man above is enjoying his place, and he tries in every way to prevent others from rising to his pedestal. The man who stands below is therefore waiting for every opportunity to pull him down.

    A world where such a conflict exists between classes cannot promise harmony, order, and peace; and a definite change is necessary in the attitude of both classes. The struggle between the higher and the middle class is a story of the past; it hardly exists any more. Today's conflict is between what is called the intellectual man and the working man. The solution to this problem is that every community should provide adequately for the five principal needs of every individual: food, clothes, a roof, education, and medicine. It is intolerable to think that many are dying without food and clothes. If humanity would open its eyes to the most critical moment that has ever come to the world, the solution of this problem would become its first task.

    Now the question is, how can this be arranged? It might be conveniently provided if only those who have an income higher than what is necessary to live comfortably, would give half of this to the community; and if those who leave their property to their children would leave half of this property for the benefit of the community. Otherwise if this question is not considered, the present revolt of the average man will end in violence and the destruction of art, morals, religion, beauty, and culture.

    When religion decays, when materialism reigns, and when commercialism pervades all the world, it is then that man overlooks the fact of how he acquires his wealth, and his only object is to become wealthy. It is then that all manner of unhappiness breeds in the multitude and among individuals. Man is not only a child in his childhood, but he remains a child in many things all through life. There are things that man can digest, and there are things that he cannot digest; it depends from what source they come. The Prophet calls wealth that can be digested Halal, and the wealth that cannot be digested he calls Hararn. It is not the particular aspect of wealth that is digestible or indigestible, it is the attitude with which man has acquired it. It makes a great difference whether one acquires it honestly or dishonestly, honorably or dishonorably, by force or by work.

    Money rightfully earned must certainly bring peace, but money earned by causing pain to another, by ruining the life of another, by dishonesty or by injustice, man cannot digest. It is not a question of having wealth; it is a question of living happily with wealth. Today the average man has no education of that kind. He toils through the day and looks for his wages in the evening. Perhaps he goes to church once a week, but this education still remains to be given. The man with wealth has so many things with which to occupy his life that he hardly thinks about these things. Yet the life of a wealthy person is perhaps more unhappy than that of a working man. At the root of this whole question a psychological secret lies hidden: how did one earn one's wealth?

    Now coming to the use of wealth, there is a door to man's heart; it is either closed or open. When he holds a thing and says, 'This is mine', he closes the door to his heart; but when he shares his goods with others and says, 'This is yours as well as mine', this opens his heart. We must learn consideration for others, it does not matter whether they are rich or poor. We may have only one slice of bread, but when there is another sitting by our side we share that slice with him. By doing this, even if our bodily appetite remains unsatisfied, our heart is filled with joy to think that we shared our happiness with another. It is this spirit which is necessary just now to change the condition of the world, not political and commercial disputes. We must be awakened to the main truth, that the happiness and peace of each can only be the happiness and peace of all.

    'The one who earned and used what he has earned, has gained. The one who earned and collected, and departed, has lost,' says Sa'di. We learn from this that it is not only important to earn money, it is of greater importance to know how to use it. There are many in this world who possess wealth and yet are unhappy; they cannot profit by it themselves, nor can they benefit anyone else. The one who earns money and keeps it in the safe is not the possessor of that money; he is the doorkeeper of his treasure.

    There are four different ways of spending money: by extravagance, by profiteering, by using it, and by saving it. No one can judge another man for his way of using his money, but everyone can judge himself for the method he employs in using what money he possesses. It is not necessary for a man to be rich in order to show these tendencies; even a poor man can be extravagant.

    Extravagance has three forms. One is caused by ignorance: a simple man who does not know the value of money spends his pearls for pebbles. Another form of extravagance is when a man who is in charge of another person's money spends it without any qualms; he thinks that anyhow it is not his property. The third form of extravagance occurs when a man has no control over his will and is attracted by anything that appeals to his weakness; he then spends more than he should. But the one who is master over his will, who is a lover of beauty and generous of heart, even if he spent his last penny for his ideal he cannot be called extravagant, for he is the master. He who is not able to spend what he possesses is the servant of his wealth; he does not know life.

    When a person demands more than the things he possesses are worth, when he wants to make more profit than he is really justified in making, when he strays away from fairness in his business dealings, that is profiteering. Although for the moment it may seem a profit, yet sooner or later it must end in a loss. That is because selfishness and injustice are plagues, and they are likely to spread. Thus a man who makes an excessive profit from one person will then be brought in contact with someone else who is cleverer than he, and who will try to make a still larger profit from him. This is not only a theory; it is the normal condition nowadays. The present state of trade and business is working more or less to the disadvantage of every nation.

    The normal way of using money is to understand life's needs and necessities, and to preserve a right proportion between the earning and spending of money. One thing should always be kept in mind, and that is the thought that one does not exist alone; the world is beside one. Of course everybody is not in a position to help the world, but to think about it even for a few moments every day can awaken the spirit of beneficence, which is generally asleep in the heart of man.

    No doubt charity begins at home. One's first duty is to consider those who depend upon one. He who has no consideration for those who depend upon him, while perhaps being generous to others, certainly lacks a great virtue in life. Surely, as it is taught in the Bible, one's neighbor should be considered. Neighbor means friend, relative, fellow-countryman; and as long as one does not stop at this but extends one's consideration still further and reaches humanity, then there is no doubt that one progresses in life, in whatever condition one may be.

    Saving certainly is a consideration, but there is a limit to it. In some cases saving is wise, but in many other cases it is avarice. It is a fact that the great gifts given to charitable works in the world mostly come from those who were wise enough to save. It depends whether one saves with a good intention, or only from a tendency to save. This tendency comes from consideration for tomorrow. From the practical point of view this consideration is necessary, and the philosophy of Omar Khayyam, to forget about tomorrow, only means to give up the extra worry and anxiety about tomorrow, as one also learns from the teachings of Christ, where he points to the lilies of the field. This teaching should not make a man careless, especially in the conditions of life today, but it should relieve a man who has nothing to save from the worry and anxiety about tomorrow.

The Mystery of Telepathy

    To some, telepathy is a mysterious phenomenon; but to those who understand it, it is as easy and natural as ordinary conversation in our everyday life. Everyone can understand that thoughts have existence, and many scientists nowadays perceive that thoughts are made of vibrations, which mystics and sages have understood throughout the ages.

    As the physical body is made up of physical atoms, so our mind is composed of vibrations; every activity of the mind is thought. Now thoughts are of two kinds. First there is imagination. This is an activity of the mind as well as thought, but in imagination the activity is not controlled by the will. When a person is resting in a chair without thinking about anything in particular, the mind has a habit of wandering. In this respect it is like a wild or untamed horse that runs off into the jungle at will. It goes off without knowing whither or why, for it is its habit just to wander about. So the imagination is not specially directed and wanders about on various lines just as it pleases, yet at the same time following the lines to which the mind is accustomed. This is why a musician's imagination naturally dwells on music and on musical things, and an artist's imagination on artistic things. A thief's imagination will dwell on how to rob and that of a writer on what he has been writing about. All this is imagination; that is, it is not controlled by the will.

    This is what takes place in the average mind. From morning till evening the will is actively working on the lines to which the mind has become accustomed, the lines which the mind has already formed. For example, consider a person who is always thinking of construction, of how to construct a factory or how to build up a certain type of business. During this time he has been forming lines in this area of his mind or mental being. These lines are open to the imagination, and so the mind goes on working along the same lines which his thought has previously been following, even when he is not thinking specially of those subjects. He still follows the same line he has been thinking on. The lines which the will has made in the mind are the directions along which the imagination unconsciously travels. As it is said, 'Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also'.

    Secondly there is thought proper, when the power of the will is directing the activity of the mind. This explains the words 'thoughtful' and 'thoughtless'. The thoughtful person is he whose will directs his mind, whether he is doing something or speaking or thinking. It is he whom people will call a thinker. But the one who does not control his action, speech, and thoughts by his will is thoughtless; his thought is really imagination, his speech does not make sense, his actions become thoughtless and inconsiderate. In brief, these three things--thought, speech, and action--reveal the character of the thought. If they are controlled by the will they show thoughtfulness, but if they are not so controlled the person is called thoughtless.

    Now we have been given two main faculties of perception: the senses of touch, smell, and taste, which form the lower senses, and the hearing and seeing faculties called Sami and Basir in Sufi terms, which are the higher or principal senses. These two groups both work with the physical body, the latter with the ears and eyes, but in reality they work in the mind; it is the mind which listens and sees. The mind is listening when it is aware of things without people telling us. We notice when a person is displeased. A person may say, 'Thank you', and yet the mind perceives that he is not really thankful but is using these words as a formality, or even out of sarcasm. So it is the mind which discriminates; the ears of the mind listen. The more developed the mind is, the more it can listen even without the help of the ears; it listens to another person's thought without the utterance of a sound. The mind can see the form of the thoughts and discriminate between them, and this is what a seer does; however, it is easier for the mind to perceive by hearing than by seeing.

    This brings us to the subject of concentration. A person who is sitting with closed eyes is not necessarily concentrating; he may just be resting or he may be asleep. If he is dreaming, that is not concentration either. Concentration is an act of the will during which the mind actually sees, during which the seeing faculty of the mind acts as well as the hearing faculty. To concentrate well one should think of a hot pan in which the oil is always fluid, so that things cook quickly in it. Do not let that pan cool through extraneous occupations. If one's mind is strongly concentrated on one thing, whatever else comes in the way will be done as well.

    Whereas our physical being uses five senses to perceive things, our mental being uses only two: seeing and hearing. When we visualize we see things with the help of the mind. It is not everyone who can visualize. When there is no power to visualize it is because things seen that way seem so vague and insubstantial compared with the things we see in the external world. It is difficult for us to think of such visualized things as real. Everything that is before our eyes and ears we consider to be real, whereas whatever comes before the mind's eye we regard as imagination, as something passing, as a dream. It is the same mind that perceives and hears the things of everyday life, yet what it perceives in the other way we think of as being just imagination, although it is actually these things which are the true realities.

    To a mystic the reality of the external world is not more real than the reality on the mental plane, for just as the first is subject to change so all things on the mental plane are subject to change too.

    Two conditions must be fulfilled before external vibrations can become audible. You hear me speak because there is no wall between you and myself. A wall prevents communication. Then when a person is speaking out in the open with the same pitch of voice as I use at this moment, you cannot hear his voice as well as mine, for the house we are in gives the sound a place to echo in and become clearly audible. Thus these are the conditions: first a current must be established, a channel or opening through which the sound or the words can reach another person; and secondly the sound must not be able to scatter in all directions, but it must be directed and concentrated towards the other, so that it can reach the inner or mental process which we call thought.

    If we wish to retain thought, or transmit thought, we must learn the process of 'throwing the ball' to hit a certain goal. We must direct our aim right, and we must put enough force in it to enable it to reach the goal. It is the force of the will that sends the thought to reach another person, and the aiming, whereby one focuses one's mental eye upon the other in telepathy, is concentration. In brief, two things are necessary for telepathy: strength of will and power of concentration.

    There used to be a sage living in Hyderabad, and people went to him for help. But he never came out to see them unless he was in a mood to do so. So after a while people came to think of him as so disagreeable that they would not seek an interview unless they had great confidence in his power.

    One day a man came and said, 'My case is coming before the court, but I have no money, and so if I lose the case it will go hard with my children.' Thereupon the sage wrote on a piece of paper the words, 'I see nothing in this case; I will dismiss it', and he told the man to go home and not trouble himself further about the matter. In due time the man went to court, and he answered all the questions put to him. The judge also asked various questions of the barrister on the opposite side, and finally he wrote down his opinion, using the exact words which the sage had written down. What had the sage done? He had engraved on the mind of this judge the selfsame words that he had used.

    What a wealth of power is latent in man, and yet his lack of confidence bars him from it! Sometimes he is afraid to offend his religious belief, sometimes he is afraid of unknown dangers, sometimes he may think he is offending friends, enemies, people in high places. But we are in this world not just to roam about and eat and drink and sleep and amuse ourselves, without ever getting to know and understand this world around us, to understand ourselves, to understand life and the powers latent in us, the inspiration and unused power. We may have become wholly absorbed in some power in our daily life, but this does not mean that we are to go no further towards the realization of our real self. No, if on the road along which we pursue our real self we meet with some realities and powers not before suspected, surely it is worth our while to take notice of them, to understand them, and to use them for a good purpose.

    Mystics know that a certain moral evolution is necessary before a person can attain a certain power, so they do not teach it indiscriminately; this is not out of a desire to reserve a monopoly or to hold back something which they possess, but what will a child do if you give it a loaded rifle to play with? It does not understand what killing means. Yes, if we stop to examine our aims, our aspirations, the pursuits in life to which we attach such great importance, perhaps we shall discover that we are not very far removed from children. The world as a whole is not prepared or ready to use spiritual powers. The sages and mystics ask of someone, 'Will he do real justice to the power if he has it?' This explains why they select a few awakened souls and leave the children to go on playing. They think it is a sin to take little children from their play when they wish to continue to play; why make them grave, serious, anxious, sorrowful? Surely it is better for the present to give them more toys, more of the occupations they are so engrossed in, more of the sports they love so much.

    In the East it is regarded as a sin to awaken a person from his sleep. Let him rest; he is comfortable; it is not yet time for him to wake up. So if one went and woke him up one would make him unhappy and even resentful. Let him go on sleeping till the time comes when he will wake up naturally. A person is asleep when he says that there is no such thing as telepathy, no such thing as heaven, no such thing as God. Let such a one be; he is not ready.

    So mystics do not talk openly about mysticism but keep their knowledge for the few who have awakened. And when a person wakes up he will see for himself. The only purpose which the sage or the mystic fulfills is to take this person's hand when this happens, when he thinks 'It is now his time to awaken; I must give him help'. This is called initiation, and from that time a person is ready to enter into the mysteries of life.

    Should everyone learn mysticism? The only difficulty in learning mysticism is man-made; it is not of God's making. The higher life is so much simpler than life on the surface of the earth, but man does not know what he is. He does not know that he is a drop on the surface of the ocean, and yet an ocean himself in his innermost part; that there is nothing that is not within him. A person who says to himself, 'I do not possess this faculty', 'I cannot put up with this', 'I am sorry but I could not think of such a thing', and so forth, well, all these ideas are his imagination, part of the confusion of his thought and lack of understanding of what he is. If a person understood what he is he would never say, 'I cannot do this'. Instead he would become a real man, that which a man ought to be. The mystic only says, 'I cannot' or 'I have not' very seldom, and he believes these words still less often. When God is with you everything is with you; when God is in you everything is in you. Inspiration, knowledge, light, all are then within you. But if you find joy in confusion, if you confuse yourself and keep yourself in darkness, you may do so. However, you have inherited from the heavenly Father His inspiration, His light, His power. You have inherited might from the Almighty God; you have inherited light from the Light of the universe. Therefore you are blessed with all these things, if you can only open your eyes and see the blessing.

    What is the sign that one is ready to awaken from sleep? It is when a