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Full text of "A hermit in the Himalayas"

A   HERMIT   IN   THE   HIMALAYAS

to give every candid investigator some surprises and there is also
enough to delude him greatly once his faith has been caught. The
whole thing is incomplete, semi-scientiiic. For every accurate
prediction about which a fuss is made, there exist a couple of dozen
totally wrong ones. The Indian system is probably more complete
than that which is used in the West today, and differs from it in
important details. Yet both possess important lacunae, secrets that
were lost with the ancient world, and therefore both become
quite unreliable as guides, although hitting the 'mark now and again
between their numerous mistakes. But who is omniscient enough
to indicate beforehand where they are correct in prediction and
where they are wrong? There is no certitude in them. The wise
man will therefore walk warily when he uses them or, better, turn
completely aside and place his faith, not in faulty astrologers but
in the faultless Overself. There may be a myriad influences out in
interstellar space, but there is one that is supreme within himself.

He will then cease to worry whether Mars has entered into
malefic relation with the Sun in his horoscope, as it has in mine,
or whether Saturn will ever lift its millstone from his neck. Nor
will he become unduly jubilant because a trine to Jupiter has
promised him some money in five years' time, or an opposition to
Venus a divorce in three! He will understand that a wise indifference
is better than a slavish submission to all these fears and hopes, for
through it, as through a gate, he may pass to peace.

He knows that the predictions of the most famous astrologer
may be utterly wrong and if acted upon may lead to ruin, whereas
the guidance of the divine Overself will always be perfect and can
lead only to more serenity, more wisdom and more happiness.

Another time my eyes come to rest on Sirius, brightest of morning
stars, which pierces a velvet-blue sky on the very edge of the horizon.
For me and for the watcher in an observatory, the Dog-Star is the
grandest of all stars in the heavens. The astronomer, however,
registers only the physical expression of the superlative magnitude
of its steely blue brightness; I register its surprising brilliance too,
plus a purely psychic impression.

The Egyptians thought so highly of this beautiful star that they
called it "The Divine Sothis (Sinus), the Queen of Heslven".
Its midsummer rising marks the beginning of the annual inundation
of the river Nile, which irrigates the entire length of the land and
brings food to millions. They gave it in their scripts and carvings a
similar hieroglyph to that of their greatest monument—the figure
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