Full text of "Tertium Organum"

TERTIUM ORGANUM

(1920)

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P. D. Ouspensky

"And swear . . . THAT THERE SHOULD BE TIME NO LONGER."
REVELATIONS, x. 6

"That ye, being rooted and grounded in love may be able to COMPREHEND
with all saints what is the BREADTlI AND LENGTH AND DEPTH AND HEIGHT."
Paul the Apostle
THE EPISTLE TO THE EPHESIANS, III. 18

CONTENTS

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION xiii

INTRODUCTION TO THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION 1

CHAPTER I
What do we know and what do we not know? Our data, and the things for which
we seek. The unknown mistaken for the known. Matter and motion. Whet
does the positive philosophy come to? Identity of the unknown: x=y, y= .
What we really know. The existence of consciousness in us, and of the world
outside of us. Dualiem or monism? Subjective and objective knowledge.
Where do the canses of the sensations lie? Kant's system. Time and Space.
Kant and the "ether." Mach's observation. With what does the physicist
really deal? . 11

CHAPTER II

A new view of the Kantian problem. The books of Hinton. The "space-sense"
and its evolution. A system for the deveiopment of a sense of the fourth
dimension by exercises with colored cubes. The geometrical conception of
space. Three perpendiculars-why three? Can everything existing be measured
by three perpendiculars? The indices of existence. Reality of ideas. Insuf.
ficient evidence of the existence of matter and motion. Matter and motion
are only logical concepts, like "good" and "evil." . 23

CHAPTER III

What may we learn about the fourth dilMnsion by a study of the geometrical
relations within our space? What should be the relation between a three-
dimensional body and one of four dimensions? The four-dimensional body as
the tracing of the movement of a three-dimensional body in the direction which
is not confined within it. A four-dimensional body as containing an infinite
number of three-dimensional bodies. A three dimensional body 8S a section
of a four-dimeusional one. Parte of bodies and entire bodies in three and in
four dimensions. The incommensurability of a three-dimensional and a four-
dimensional body. A material atom as a section of a four-dimensionalline.. . M

CHAPTER IV

In what direction may the fourth dimension lie? What is motion? Two kinds
of motion-motion in space and motion in time-which are contained in every
movement. What is time? Two ideas contained in the conception of time.
The new dimension of space, and motion upon that dimension. Time as the
fourth dimension of space. Imr 'bility of understanding the fourth dimension
without the idea of motion. TI-- a of motion and tbe "time-sense." The time
sense as a limit (surface) of the space-sense." Hinton on the law of surfaces.
, vii

VUI

CONTENTS

The "ether" as a surface. Riemann's idea concerning the translation of time
into space in the fourth dimension. Present, past, and future. Why do we not
see the past and the future. Life a& a feeling 0/ one', way. Wundt on the
eubject of our sensuous knowledge. . . . . . . . 38

CHAPTER V

Four-dimensional space. "Temporal body"
Lin8a Sharira. The form of a human
body from birth to death. Incommensurability of three-dimensional and four-
dimensional bodies. Newton's fluents. The unreality of constant quantities in
our world. The right and left hands in three-dimensional and in four dimen.
sional space. Difference between three-dimensional and four-dimensional space.
Not two different spaces but different methods of receptivity of one and the
same world. . 52

CHAPTER VI

Methods of investigation of the problem of higher dimensions. The analogy be-
tween imaginary worlds of different dimensions. The one-dimensional world
on a line. "Space" and "time" of a one-dimensional being. The two-dimen-
sional world on a plane. "Space" and "time," "ether," "matter," and "motion"
of a two.dimensional being. Reality and illusion on a plane. The impossibility
of seeing an "angle." An angle as motion. The incomprehensibility to a two-
dimensional being of the functions of things in our world. Phenomena and
noumena of a two-dimensional being. How conld a plane being comprehend
the third dimension? 59

CHAPTER VII

Tbe impossibility of the mathematical definition of dimensions. Why does not
mathematics sense dimensions? The entire conditionality of the representation
of dimensions by powers. The possibility of representing aU powers on a line.
Kant and Lobachevsky. The difference between non-Euclidian geometry and
metageometry. Wbere shall we find the explanation of the three-dimensionality
of the world, if Kant's ideas are true? Are not the conditions of the three-
dimensionality of the world confined to our receptive apparatue, to OUr psyche? 73

CHAPTER VIII

Our receptive apparatus. Sensation. Perception. Conception. Intuition. Art as
the language of the future. To what exent does the tbree-dimensionality of the
world depend npon the properties of our receptive appa,ratus? What might
prove this interdependence? Where may we find the real affirmation of this
interdependence? The animal psyche. In what does it differ from the human?
Reflex action. The irritability of the cell. Instinct. Pleasure-pain. Emotional
thinking. The absence of concepts. Language of animals. Logic of animals.
Different degrees of psychic development in animals. The goose, the cat, the
dog and the monkey. . 80

CHAPTER IX

The receptivity of the world by a man and by an animal Illusions of the animal
and its lack of control of the receptive faculties. The world of moving planes.
Angles and curves considered as motion. The third dimension as motion. The
animal's two-dimensional view of our three-dimensional world. The animal as
a real two-dimensional being. Lower animals as one.dimensional beings. The
time and space of a snail. The time-sense as an imperfect space-sense. The
time and space of a dog. The change in the world coincident with a change in
the psychic apparatns. The :proof of Kant's problem. The three-dimensional
world-an illusionary perception. . 98

CONTENTS

CHAPTER X

The spai1a1 understanding of time. The ang1es and curves of the fourth dimension
in our life. DoeB motion exist in the world or not? Mechanical motion and
"life." Biological phenomena as the manifestation of motions going on in the
higher dimension. Evolution of the space-sense. The growth of the space-sense
and the diminution of the time-sense. The transformation of the time-sense into
the space-sense. The difficulties of our language and of our conceptB. The
necessity for seeking a method of spatial expression for temporal concepts.
Science in relation to the fourth dimension. The solid of four dimensions. The
four-dimensional sphere. . 112

CHAPTER XI

Science and the problem of the fourth dimension. The address of Prof. N. A. Oumoff
before the Mendeleevskian Convention in 1911-"The Characteristic Traits and
Problems of Contemporary Scientific Thought." The new physics. The electro-
magnetic theory. The principle of relativity. The works of Einstein and Min-
kowsky. Simultaneous existence of the past and the future. The Eternal Now.
Van Manen's boo1c about occult experiences. The drawing of a four-dimensional
figure.' . 124

CHAPTER XII

Analysis of phenomena. What defines different orders of phenomena for us? Methods
and forms of the tmnsition of one order of phenomena into another. Phenomena
of motion. Phenomena of life. Phenomena of consciousness. The central
question of our knowledge of the world: what mode of phenomena is generic
and produces the others? Can the origin of everything lie in motion? The
laws of transformation of energy. Simple transformation and liberation of
latent energy. Different liberating forces of different orders of phenomena. The
force of mechanical energy, the force of a living cell, the force of an idea.
Phenomena and noumena of our world.. . . . 136

CHAPTER XIII

Tbe apparent and hidden side of life. Positivism as the study of the phenomenal
side of life. Of what does the "two-dimensionality" of positive philosophy con.
sist? The regarding of everything upon a single plane, in one physical se-
quence. The streams which flow underneath the earth. What can the study of
life, as a phenomenon, yield? The artificial world which science erects for
itself. The unreality of finished and isolated phenomena. The new apprehen-
sion of the world.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143

CHAPTER XIV

The voices of stones. The wa1l of a church and the wall of a prison. The mast of 8
ship and a gallows. The shadow of a hangman and of an ascetic. The soul
of a hangman and of an ascetic. The different combinations of known phe-
nomena in higher space. The relationship of phenomena which appear unrelated,
and the difference between phenomena which appear similar. How sha1l we
approach the noumenal world? The understanding of things outside the cate-
gories of space and time. The reality of many "figures of .speech." The occult
understanding of energy. The letter of a Hindu occultist. Art as the knowl-
edge of the noumenal world. What we see and what we do not see. Plato's
dia10gue about the cavern. . . . 156

CONTENTS

CHAPTER XV

Occultism and Jove. Love and death. Our different relatioDB to the problem. of
death and to the problems of love. What Is lacking in our understanding of
Jove? Love as an every.day and merely psychological phenomena. The possi.
bility of a spiritual understanding of love. The creative force of love. The
Jlegation of love. Love and mysticism. The "wondrous" in love. Nietzsche,
Edward Carpenter and Schopenhauer on Jove. "The Ocean of Sex." . . 166

GHAPTER XVI

The phenomenal and noumenal side of man. "Man-In-himself." How do we know
the inner side of man? Can we know of the existence of consciouMless in con-
ditions of space not analogous to ours? Brain and conscionsness. Unity of the
world. Logical impossibility of the simultaneous existence of spirit and matter.
Either all spirit or aU matter. Rational and irrational actions in nature and in
the life of man. Can rational actions exist alongside irrational? The world
as an accidentally self.created mechanical toy. The impossibility of reason in
a mechanical universe. The irreconcilability of mechanicalness with the exist-
ence of reason. Kant concerning "hosts." Spinoza on the knowledge of the
invisible world. Necessity for the intellectual definition of that which can be,
and that which cannot be, in the world of hidden.. . . . .. . . . 176

CHAPTER XVII

A living and rational universe. Different forms and lines of rationality. Animated
nature. The souls of stones and the souls of trees. The soul of a forest. The
human "I" as a collective rationality. Man as a complex being. "Humanity"
as a being. The world's soul. The face of Mtzhadeva. Prof. James on the
consciousneSB of the universe. Fechner's ideas. Zendavesta. A living Earth. 198

CHAPTER XVIII

Rationality and life. Life as knowledge. Intellect and emotione. Emotion 8B aD
organ of knowledge. The evolution of emotion from the standpoint of knowl.
edge. Pure and impnre emotions. Personal and impersonal emotions. Personal
and super-personal emotions. The elimination of self-elements as 8 means of
approach to true knowledge. "Be as little children. . .." "Blessed are the
pure in heart. . .." The value of morals from the standpoint of knowledge.
The defects of intellectualism. Dreadnaughts as the crown of intellectnal cult-
ure. The dangers of morality. Moral esthetics. Religion and art as organized
fonns of emotional knowledge. The knowledge of God and the knowledge of
Beauty. . 213

CHAPTER XIX

The intellectual method, objective knowledge. The limits of objective knowledge.
The pOBSibility of the expansion of the application of the pBychological method.
New forms of knowledge. The ideas of Plotinus. Different forms of COnsciOll!l-
neBS. Sleep (the potential state of consciousness). Dreams (consciousness en-
closed in itself, reflected from itself). W aking
consciousness (dualistic sensa.
tion of the world, the division of the I and the Not-I). Ecstasy ( the liberation
of the Self). Turiya (the absolute consciousness of all, as of the self). "The
dewdrop slips into the shining sea." Nirvana.. . 232

CHAPTER XX

The sense of infinity. The neophyte's first ordeal. An intolerable sadness. The
lollS of everything real. What would an animal feel on becoming a man? The

CONTENTS

PAO)!
transition to the new logic. Our logic as founded on the observation of the
laws of the phenomenal world. Its invalidity for the study of the world of
noumena. The necessity for another logic. Analogy between the axioms of
logic and of mathematics. TWO MATHEMATICS. The mathematics of real
magnitudes (infinite and variable); and the mathematics of unreal, imaginary
magnitudes (finite and constant). Transfinite numbers-numbers lying beyond
INFINITY. The poseibility of different infinities. . . 243

CHAPTER XXI

Man's transition to a higher logic. The necessity for rejecting everything "real."
"Poverty of the spirit." The recognition of the infinite alone as real. Laws of
the infinite. Logic of the finite-the Organon of Aristotle and the Novum Or-
ganum of Bacon. Logic of the infinite-Tertium Organum. The higher logic
as an instrument of thought, as a key to the mysteries of nature, to the hidden
side of life, to the world of noumena. A definition of the world of noumena on
the basis of all the foregoing. The impression of the noumenal world on an
unprepared consciousness. "The thrice unknown darkness in the contemplation
of which all knowledge is resolved into ignorance." . . 254

CHAPTER XXII

Theosophy of Max MUller. Ancient India. Philosophy of the Vedanta. Tat twam
asi. Knowledge by means of the expansion of consciousness as a reality.
Mysticism of different ages and peoples. Unity of experiences. Tertium Or-
ganum as a key to mysticism. Signs of the noumenal world. Treatise of
Plotinus On Intelligible Beauty as a misunderstood system of higher logic
Illumination in Jacob Boehme. "A harp of many strings, of which each string
is a separate inetrurnent, while the whole is only one harp." Mystics of The
Love 0/ the Good. St. Ana Dorotheus and others. Clement of Alexandria.
Lao-TzU and Chuang-Tzu. Light on the Path. The Voice 0/ the Silence.
Mohammedan mystics. Poetry of the Sufis. Mystical states under narcotics.
The Anaestetic Revelation. Experiments of Prof. James. Dostoyevsky on
"time" (The Idior). Influence of nature on the soul of man.. . . . . . 270

CHAPTER XXIII

Co,mic Conscioumess of Dr. Bucke. The three forms of consciousness according
to Dr. Bucke. Simple consciousness, or the consciousness of animals. Self-
consdiousness. or the consciousness of men. Dr. Bucke's fundamental error.
Cosmic consciousness. In what is it expressed? Sensation, perception, concept,
higher MORAL concept-creative intuition. Men of cosmic consciousness.
Adam's fall into sin. The. knowledge of good and evil. Christ and the salvation
of man. Commentary on Dr. Bucke's book. Birth of the new humanity. Two
races. SUPERMAN. Table of the four forms of the manifestation of con-
sciousness. 306

CONCLUSION

. 333

TABLE OF THE FOUR FORMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION

I N revising Tertium Organum for the second edition in English
my chief concern has been to coordinate its terminology with
the more developed terminology of those of my books written
after the publication of the second Russian edition of Tertium Or-
ganum, from which the English translation was made.
Such a unity of terminology is the more necessary because I am
obliged to lead the reader into regions of thought and knowledge
where boundaries have not been clearly established, and where
different authors-and often one and the same author, in different
works and during different periods of his activity-have called the
same thing by different names, or different things by the same name.
It must be admitted that language is a weak and inadequate
vehicle even for the expression of our usual understanding of things,
to say nothing of those moments when the understanding unexpect-
edly expands and becomes deeper, and we see revealed an entire
series of facts and relations for the description of which we have
neither words nor expressions. But quite aside from this, in ordin-
ary conditions of thinking and feeling, we are frequently at a loss
for words, and we use one word at different times to describe different
things.
On the other hand, it is no merit in an author to invent new words,
or to use old words in new meanings which have nothing in common
with the accepted ones-t3 create, in other words, a special termin-
ology. I have always considered that it is necessary to write in the
language which men commonly speak, and I have endeavored to
do this, although in some cases it has been necessary to make some
additions to and corrections of that language for the sake of exact-
ness and lucidity.
In due time I" shall separately consider the subject of language
and the methods of its adaptation for the transmission of exact
thought. For the present I have reference only to the language of
Tertium Organum.

xiii

XIV

TERTIUM ORGANUM

The first word demanding a more careful use is "consciousness."
In conversational language and in every-day psychology, even
in psychology purporting to be scientific, the word consciousness is
often used as a term for the designation of a complex of all psychic
functions in general, or for their separate manifestations. At
present I have not access to the necessary books-I abandoned
them all in Petrograd, four years ago-but to the best of my
recollection Prof. Willillm James defined thought as "a moment of
. "
conscIOusness.
From my standpoint, which I shall elucidate in works now being
prepared for the press, it is necessary to regard consciousness as
distinct from the commonly understood psychic functions: thought,
feeling and sensation. Over and above all this, consciousness has
several exactly definable forms or phases, in each one of which
thoughts, feelings and sensations can function, giving in each different
results. Thus consciousness (be it this or something other) is a
background upon which thoughts, feelings and sensations reveal
themselves. This background can be more or less bright. But as
thoughts, feelings and sensations have their own separate life, and
oan be regarded independently of this background, so can it be
regarded and studied independently of them. For the pres-
ent I shall not insist too strongly upon the idea of this ground as
something separate in its substance from psychic functions. The
practical result is the same if we say that thoughts, feelings and
sensations may have a different character, and that thoughts, feelings
and sensations of this or that character create this or that state of
consciousness. It is important only to establish the fact that
thoughts, feelings and sensations, i. e., psychic functions, are not
consciousness, and that this or that state of consciousness is some-
thing pertaining to them, but separate from them, and in some
cases capable of being separately observed.
In the early editions of Tertium Organum I have used the word
consciousness in its generally accepted meaning, i. e., as a complex
of psychic functions, or in the sense of their indication and contents.
But as in my future works it will be necessary for me to use the word
consciousness in its real and true ,meaning, I have tried in this re-
vised text of Tertium Organum to substitute for We !word conscious-
ness (wherever it is used in the sense of a complex of psychic fune-

AUTHOR'S PREFACE

:xv

tions) such other words as psyche, or psychic life, which per-
fectly express my meaning in such cases.
Furthermore, in my work of revision, I have found numerous
instances of illustrations, examples, etc., having no direct connection
with the main theme. I have found also that SOUle of these intro-
duced themes vitiate the correctness of the main line of thought,
creating associations which lead too far away. Other themes also,
accidentally touched upon, demand a considerably more extended
treatment than can be given them within the limits of this book, but
being inadequately developed they leave a wrong impression.
In such cases I consider it necessary to eliminate this extraneous
matter in order to elucidate the principal thought more clearly and
directly, particularly as some of the questions touched upon demand-
ing more or different exposition are discussed at length in my forth-
coming books.
In conclusion, let me express to Mr. Nicholas Bessaraboff and
to Mr. Claude Bragdon my deep appreciation of their labors on
the translation of my book into English. This translation, made
without my knowledge and participation, at a time when I was cut
off by war and revolution from the civilized world, transmits my
thought so exactly that after a very attentive review of the book I
could find only one word to correct. Such a result could be achieved
only because Mr. Bessarahoff and Mr. Bragdon were not translat-
ing words merely, but were grasping directly the thoughts back of
them. Also, it is especially pleasant for me to remember that a
number of years ago Mr. Bragdon's Man the Square reached me in
Petrograd, and that I, not knowing Mr. Bragdon's other works at
all, selected this little book from a whole series received from
abroad, as one which carried the message of a common thought, a
common understanding.

P. OUSPENSKY

Constantinople,
June 1921

INTRODUCTION TO-THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION

I N naming his book Tertium Organum Ouspensky reveals at a
stroke that astounding audacity which characterizes his thought
throughout-an audacity which we are accustomed to associate
with the Russian mind in all its phases. Such a title says, in effect:
"Here is a book which will reorganize all knowledge. The Organon
of Aristotle formulated the laws under which the subject thinks; the
Novum Organum of Bacon, the laws under which the object may
be known; but The Third Canon of Thought existed before these
two, and ignorance of its laws does not justify their violation. Ter-
tium Organum shall guide and govern human thought henceforth."
How passing strange, in this era of negative thinking, of timid
philosophizing, does such a challenge sound! And yet it has the
echo in it of something heard before-what but the title of an-
other volume, Hinton's A New Era of Thought?
Ouspensky's Tertium Organum and Hinton's A New Era of
Thought present substantially the 'Same philosophy (though Hin-
ton's book only sketchily), arrived at by the same route-mathe-
matics.
Here is food for thought. In the words of Philip Henry Wynne,
"Mathematics possesses the most potent and perfect symbolism the
intellect knows; and this symbolism' has offered for generations cer-
tain concepts (of which hyper-dimens-ionality is only one) whose
naming and envisagement by the human intellect is perhaps its
loftiest achievement. Mathematics presents the highest certitudes
known to the intellect, and is becoming more and more the final
arbiter and interpreter in physics, chemistry and astronomy. Like
Aaron's rod it threatens to swallow all other knowledges as fast as
they assume organized form. Mathematics has already taken pos-
session of great provinces of logic and psychology-will it embrace
ethics, religion and philosophy?"
In T enium Organum mathematics enters and pervades the field
of philosophy; but so adroitly, so silently as it were, that one hardly
1

TERTIUM ORGANUM

knows that it is there. It dwells more in Ouspensky's method than
in his matter, because for the most part the mathematical ideas nec-
essary for an understanding of his thesis are such as any intelligent
high school student can comprehend. The author puts to himseH
and to the reader certain questions, propounds certain problems,
which have baffled the human mind for thousands of years-the
problems of space, time, motion, causality, of free will and determin-
ation-and he deals with them according to the mathematical
method: that is all. He has sensed the truth that the problem
of mathematics is the problem of the world order, and as such must
deal with every aspect of human life.
Mathematics is a terrible word to those whose taste and training
have led them into other fields, so lest the non-mathematical reader
should be turned back at the very threshold, deciding too hastily that
the book is not for him, let me dwell rather on its richly humanistic
aspect.
To such as ask no "key to the enigmas of the world," but only
some light to live by, some mitigation of the daily grind, some
glimpse of some more enlightened polity than that which rules the
world today, this book should have an appeal. The author has
thrown overboard all the jargon of all the schools; he uses the
language of common sense, and of every day; his illustrations and
figures of speech are homely, taken from the life of every day. He
simply says to the reader, "Come let us reason together," and leads
him away from the haunted jungle of philosophical systems and
metaphysical theories, out into the light of day, there to contemplate
and to endeavor to understand those primal mysteries which puzzle
the mind of a child or of a savage no less than that of the sophisti-
cated and super-subtle ponderer on the enigmas of the world. Not
that Ouspensky is a trafficker in the obvious-far from it: those
who know most, think most, feel most, will get most out of his book
-but a great sanity pervades his pages, and he never leads away
into labyrinths where guide and follower alike lose their way and
fail to come to any end.

Leaving the average reader out of account for the moment, there
are certain others whom the book should particularly interest-if
only in the way of repulsion.

TRANSLATORS' INTRODUCTION 3
First of all come the mathematicians and the theoretical physicists,
for they already, without knowing it, have invaded that "dark back-
ward and abysm of time" which the Ouspenskian philosophy lights
up--and are by way of losing themselves there.
That is to say, in certain of their calculations, they are employing
four mutually interchangeable coordinates, three of space and one
of time. In other words, they use time as though it were a dimen-
sion of space. Ouspensky tell
them the reason they are able to
do this. Time is the fourth dimension of space imperfectly sensed
-apprehended by consciousness successively, and thereby creating
the temporal illusion.
Moreover, mathematicians are perforce concerning themselves
with magnitudes to which the ordinary logic no longer applies.
Ouspensky presents a new logic, or rather, he presents anew an
ancient logic--the logic of intuition-removing at a stroke all of
the nightmare aspects, the preposterous paradoxes of the new mathe-
matics, which by reason of its extraordinary development has
shattered the old logic, as a growing oak shatters the containing
jar.
It is from the philosophic camp, no doubt, that the hook will
receive its sharpest criticism, on acount of the author's lese-majeste
toward so many of the crowned kings of philosophic thought, and
his devastating assault on positivism-that inevitable by-product of
our materialistic way of looking at the world. His attempt to
prove the Kantian problem-1he subjectivilty of space and time--
doubtless will he acutely challenged, and with some chance of suc-
cess, because the two chapters devoted to this are perhaps the least
convincing of the book. But no one heretofore has even attempted
to demonstrate absolutely or successfully to controvert the staggering
proposition advanced by Kant regarding space and time as forms of
consciousness.
Whatever the verdict of the philosophical pundits of the day and
hour, whether favorable or otherwise, Ouspensky is sure of a place
in the hierarchy of philosophers, for he has essayed to solve the
most profound problems of human existence by the aid of the
binocular vision of the mathematician and the mystic. Starting
from the irreducible minimum of knowledge, he has carried philos-
ophy into regions not hitherto explored.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

To persons of an artistic or devotional bent the book will be as
water in the desert. These, always at a disadvantage among the
purely practical-minded, by whom they are overwhelmingly out-
numbered, will find in Ouspensky a champion whose weapon is
mathematical certitude, the very thing by which the practical-minded
swear. These he puts to rout, holds up to ridicule, and applauds
every effort to escape into the "world of the wondrous."
But most of all Ouspensky will be loved by all true loverS, for
his chapter on the subject of love. We have had Schopenhauer on
love, and Freud on love, but what dusty answers do they give to
the soul of a lover! Edward Carpenter comes much nearer the
mark, but Ouspensky penetrates to its very center. It is because
our loves are so dampened by our egotisms, our cy
icisms and our
cowardices that we rot and smoulder instead of bursting into puri-
fying flame. Just as Goethe's Werther, with its sex-sentimentality,
is said to have provoked an epidemic of suicides, so may Tertium
Organum-which restores love to that high heaven from whence
descend every beauty and benison-inaugurate a renascence of love
and joy.
From one point of view this is a terrible book: there is a revolu-
tion in it-a revolution of the very poles of thought. Some it will
rob of their dearest illusions, it will cut the very grouna from be-
neath their feet, it will consign them to the Abyss. It is a great
destroyer of complacency. Yes, this is a dangerous book-but
then, life is like that.

It is beyond the province of this Introduction either to outline
the Ouspenskian philosophy at any length, or to discuss it critically;
but some slight indication of its drift may be of assistance to the
reader.
The book might have appropriately been called A Studr of Con-
sciousness, for Ouspensky comes early to the conclusion that all
other methods of approach to an understanding of the "enigmas
of the world" are vain. Chapters I to VII, inclusive, deal with the
problem of the world-order by the objective method. The author
erects an elaborate scaffolding for his future edifice, and after it
has served its purpose, throws it down. Aware of the deficiencies

'TRANSLATORS' INTRODUCTION 5
of the objective method and having made the reader conscious of
them too, he suddenly alters his system of attack. From chapter
VIII onward, he undertakes the study of the world-order from
the standpoint of subjectivity-of consciousness.
By a method both ingenious and new he correlates the different
grades of consciousness observable in nature-those of vegetable-
animal, animal and man-with the space sense, showing that as
consciousness changes and develops, the sense of space changes
and develops too. That is to say, the dimensionality of the world
depends on the development of consciousness. Man, having reached
the third stage in that development, has a sense of three. dimensional
space-and for no other reason.
Ouspensky concludes that nothing except consciousness unfolds,
develops, and as there appears to be no limit to this development,
he conceives of space as the multi-dimensional mirror of conscious-
ness and of time and motion as illusion-what appears to be time
and motion being in reality only the movement of consciousness
upon a higher space.
The problem of superior states of consciousness in which "there
shall be time no longer" is thus directly opened up, and in discussing
their nature and method of attainment, he quotes freely from the
rich literature of mysticism. Instead of attempting to rationalize
these higher states of consciousness, as some authors do, he applies to
them the logic of intuition-"Tertium Organum"-paradmcical from
the standpoint of ordinary reason, but true in relation to the nou-
menal world.
Joseph Conrad and Ford Madox Hueffer once wrote a novel
called The Inheritors and by this they meant the people of the
fourth dimension. Though there is small resemblance between
Ouspensky's "superman" and theirs, it is his idea also that those
of this world who succeed in developing higher-dimensional, or
"cosmic" consciousness will indeed inherit-will control and regu-
late human affairs by reason of their superior wisdom and power.
In this, and in this alone, dwells the "salvation" of the world. His
superman is the "just man made perfect" of the Evangelist. The
struggle for mastery between the blind and unconscious forces of
materialism on the one hand, and the spiritually illumined on the
other, is already upon us, and all conflicts between nations, peoples

TERTIUM ORGANUM

and classes must now be interpreted in terms of this greater warfare
between "two races" of men, in which the superior minority will
either conquer or disappear.
These people of the fourth dimension are in the world but not of
it: their range is far wider than this slum of space. In them dor-
mant faculties are alert. Like birds of the air, their fitting symbol,
they are at home in realms which others cannot enter, even though'
already "there." Nor are these heavenly eagles confined to the
narrow prison of the breast. Their bodies are as tools which they
may take up or lay aside at will. This phenomenal world, which
seems so real, is to them as insubstantial as the image of a land-
scape in a lake. Such is the Ouspenskian superman.
The entire book is founded upon a new generalization-new,
that is, in philosophy, but already fantiliar 'to mathemaljicians
and theoreticial physicists. This generalization involves startling
and revolutionary ideas in regard to space, time and motion far
removed from those of Euclidian geometry and classical physics.
Quspensky handles these new ideas in an absolutely original
way, making them the basis of an entire philosophy of life. To
the timid and purblind this philosophy will be nothing short of
terrifying, but to the clear-eyed and steadfast watcher, shipwreck-
ed on this shoal of time, these vistas, overflowing with beauty,
strangeness, doubt, terror and divinity, will be more welcome
than anything in life.
Fear not the new generalization.

Ouspensky's clearness of thought is mirrored in a corresponding
clarity of expression. He sometimes repeats the difficult and im-
portant passages in an altered fonn of words, he uses short sen-
tences and short paragraphs, and italicizes significant phr:ases and
significant words. He defines where definition is needed, and
suggests collateral trains of thought with a skill which makes the
reader who is intuitive a creator on his own acoount. Schopenhauer
has said that it is always a sign of genius to treat difficult matters
simply, as it is a sign of dullness to make simple matters appear re-
condite. Ouspensky exhibits this order of genius, and that other,

TRANSLATORS' INTRODUCTION 7
mentioned by Schopenhauer, which consists in choosing always the
apt illustration, the illuminating simile.
The translators have tried to be rigidly true to the Russian or-
iginal, and they have been at great pains to verify every English
quotation 50 far as has been possible. It is therefore a source of
great gratification to them that their efforts should have received the
unqualified endorsement of the author himself.

Rochester, N. Y.
lanuary 31,1922

CLAUDE BRAGDON

"I bave called this system of higher logic Tereium Organum because
for us it is the third canon-third instrument-of thought after those of
Aristotle and Bacon. The first was Organon, the second, Novum Organum.
But the third existed earlier than the first."
TERTIUM ORGANUM (page 262)

CHAPTER I

What do we know and what do we not know? Our data, and the things for
which we seek. The unknown mistaken for the known. Matter
and motion. What does the positive philosophy come to? Identity
of the unknown: x=y, y=x. What we really know. The existence
of consciousness in us, and of the world outside us. Dualism or
monism? Subjective and objective knowledge. Where do the
causes of the sensations lie? Kant's system. Time and Space.
Kant and the ."ether." Mach's observation. With what does the
physicist really deal?

CCLearn to discern the real from the false"
THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE
H. P. B.

T HE most difficult thing is to know what we do know, and
what we do not know.
Therefore, desiring to know anything, we shall before
all else determine WHAT we accept as given, and WHAT as demand-
ing definition and proof; that is, determine WHAT we know already,
and WHAT we wish to know.
In relation to the knowledge of the world and of ourselves, the
conditions would be ideal could we venture to accept nothing as
given, and count all as demanding definition and proof. In other
words, it would be best to assume that we know nothing, and make
this our point of departure.
But unfortunately such conditions are impossible to create.
Knowledge must start from some foundation, something must be
recognized as known; otherwise we shall be obliged always to de-
fine one unknown by means of another.
Looking at the matter from another point of view, we shall
hesitate to accept as the known things-as the given ones-those
in the main completely unknown, only presupposed, and there-
fore the things sought for. Should we do this, we are likely to fall
into such a dilemma as that in which positive philosophy now finds
itself-and by pO'sitive philosophy I mean a general trend of thought
11

TERTIUM ORGANUM

based on the data of those sciences which are now accepted as ex-
perimental and positive. This philosophy is founded on the ex.
istence of matter (materialism) or energy: that is, of a force, or
nwtion, (energeticism); though in reality matter and motion were
always the unknown x and y, and were defined by means of one
another.
It must be perfectly clear to everyone that it is impossible to ac-
cept the thing sought as the given; and impossible to define one un-
known by means of another. The result is nothing but the iden-
tity of the unknown: x- y, y x.
This identity of the unknown is the ultimate conclusion to which
positive philosophy comes.
Matter is that in which proceed the changes called motion: and
motions are those changes which proceed in matter.

But what do we know?
We know that with the very first awakening of knowledge, man is
confronted with two obvious facts:
The existence of the world in which he lives; and the existence of
psychic life in himself.
Neither of these can he prove or disprove, but they are facts:
they constitute reality for him.
It is possible to meditate upon the mutual correlation of these two
facts. It is possible to try to reduce them to one; that is, to regard
the psychic or inner world as a part, reflection, or function of the
world, or the world as a part, reflection, or function of that inner
world. But such a procedure constitutes a departure from facts,
and all such considerations of the world and of the self, to the
ordinary non-philosophical mind, will not have the character of
obviousness. On the contrary the sole obvious fact remains the an-
tithesis of I and Not-I-our inner psychic life and the outer world.
Further on we shall return to this fundamental thesis. But thus
far we have no basis on which to found a contradiction of the ob-
vious fact of the existence of ourselves-i. e., of our inner life-
and of the world in which we live. This we shall therefore accept
as the given.
This however is the only thing that w
have the right to accept as

SUB J E C T I V E AND 0 B J E C T I V E 13
given: all the rest demands proof and definition in terms of these
two given data.
Space, with its extension; time, with the idea of before, now,
after; quantity, mass, substantiality; number, equality and inequal-
ity; identity and difference; cause and effect; the ether, atoms, elec-
trons, energy, life, death-all things that form the foundation of our
so-called knowledge: these are the lU1,known things.
The existence in us of psychic life, i. e., of sensations, per-
ceptions, conceptions, reasoning, feeling, desires etc., and the ex-
istence of the world {lutside of us-from these two fundamental data
immediately proceed our common and clearly understood division of
everything that we know into subjective and objective.
Everything that we accept as a property of the world" we call
objective; and everything that we accept as a property of our psyohe,
we call subjective_
The subjective world we recognize directly: it is in ourselves
-we are one with it.
The objective world we picture to ourselves as existing some-
where outside of us-we and it are diffel"ent things.
It seems to us that if we should close our eyes, then the objective
world would continue to exist, such as we just saw it; and if our inner
life were to disappear, so would the subjective world disappear-
yet the objec"ive world would exist as before, as it existed at the
time when we were not; when our subjective world was not.
Our relation to the objective world is most exactly defined by
the fact that we perceive it as existing in time and space; other-
wise, out of these conditions, we can neither conceive nor imagine
it. In general, we say that the objective world consists of things
and phenomena, i.e., things and changes in states of things. The
PHENOMENA exist for us in time; the THINGS, in space.
But such a division of the subjective and the objective world does
not satisfy us.
By means of reasoning we can establish the fact that in reality
we know only our own sensations, perceptions and conceptions,
and we cognize the objective world by projecting outside of our-
selves the causes of our sensations, presupposing them to contain
these causes.
Then we find that our knowledge of the subjective world, and of

14 TERTIUM ORGANUM
the objective world also, can be true and false, correct and incorrect.
The criterion for the definition of correctness or incorrectness
of our knowledge of the subjective world is the form of the rela-
tions of one sensation to others, and the force and character of the
sensation itself. In other words, the correctness of one sensation
is verified by the comparison of it with another of which we are
more sure, or by the intensity and "ta.ste" of a given sensation.
The criterion for the definition of correctness or incorrectness
of our knowledge of the objective world is the very same. It seems
to us that we define the things and phenomena of the objective
world by means of comparing them among themselves; and we
think we find the laws of their existence outside of us, and inde-
pendent of our perception of them. But it is an illusion. We
know nothing about things separately from us; and we have no
other means of verifying the correctness of our knowledge of the
objective world than BY SENSATIONS.

Since the remotest antiquity the question of our relation to
the true causes of our sensations has constituted the main subject of
philosophical research. Men have always felt that they should
have some solution for this question, some answer for it.
And these answers have vacillated between two poles, from the full
negation of the causes themselves, and the assertion that the causes of
sensations are contained within ourselves and not in anything out-
side of us-up to the recognition that we know these causes, that they
are embodied in the phenomena of the outer world, that thtse
phenomena constitute the cause of sensations; and that the cause
of all observed phenomena lies in the movement of "atoms," and
the oscillations of the "ether." It is believed that if we cannot
observe these motions and oscillations it is only because we have
not sufficiently powerful instruments, and that when such instruments
are at our disposal we shall be able to see the movements of atoms
as well as we see, through powerful telescopes, stars the very exist.
ence of which were never gu,esse.d.

KANT'S SYSTEM

In modern philosophy Kant's system occupies a middle posi-
tion in relation to this problem of the causes of sensations, not
sharing either of these extreme views. Kant proved that the
causes of our sensations are in the outside world, but that we can-
not know these cau,ses through any sensuous approach-that is,
by such means as we know phenomena-and that we cannot
know these causes, and shall never know them.
Kant established the fact that everything that is kn01m
through the senses is known in tenns of time and space, and that
out of time and space we cannot know anything by way of the
senses; that time and space are necessary conditions of sensuous
receptivity (i. e., receptivity by means of the five organs of
sense). Moreover, what is most important, he established the
fact that extension in space and existence in time are not proper-
ties appertaining to things, but just the the properties of our sensuous
receptivity; that in reality, apart from our sensuous knowledge
of them, things exist independently of time and space; but we can
never perceive them out of time and space, and perceiving things
and phenomena thus sensuously, by virtue of it we impose upon
them the conditions of time and space, as belonging to our form
of perception.
Thus space and time, defining everything that we cognize by
sensuous means, are in themselves just fonns of our receptivity,
categories of our intellect, the prism through which we regard
the world-or in other words, space and time do not represent prop-
erties of the world, but just properties of our knowledge of
the world gained through our sensuous organism. From this it
follows that the world, apart from our knowledge of it, has neither
extension in space nor existence in time; these are properties which
we add to it.
Cognitions of space -and time arise in our intellect during its
touch with the external world by means of the organs of sense,
and do not exist in the external world apart from _our contact with
it.
Space and time are categories of intellect, i. e., properties which
are ascribed by us to the external world. They are signal posts,
signs put up by ourselves because we cannot picture the external
world without their help. They are graphics by which we repre-

TERTIUM ORGANUM

sent the world to ourselves. Projecting outside of ourselves the
causes of our sensations, we are designing those causes in space, and
we picture continuous reality to ourselves as a series of moments of
time following one another. This is necessary for us because a thing
having no definite extension in space, not occupying a certain part of
space and not lasting a certain length of time, does not exist for us
at all. That is, a thing not in space, divorced from the idea of space,
and not included in the category of space, will not differ from some
other thing in any particular; it will occupy the very same place,
will coincide with it. Also, all phenomena not in time, divorced
from the idea of time, not taken in this or that fashion from the
standpoint of before, now, after, would co-exist for us simulta-
neously, and all mixed up with one another, and our weak mind
would not be able to distinguish one moment i
th
infinite var-
iety.
Therefore our consciousness segregates, out of a chaos of
impressions, separate groups, and we construct in space and
time the perceptions of things according to these groups of impres-
SIons.
It is necessary for us to divide things somehow, and we divide
them into the categories of space and time.
But we should remember that these divisions exist only in us,
in our knowledge of things and not in the things themselves; that
we do not know the true relations of things among themselves,
and the real things we do not know, but only phantoms,
visions of things--we do not know the relation existing among
the things in reality. At the same time we quite definitely know
that our division of things into the categories of space and time does
not at all correspond to the division of things in themselves, inde-
pendently of our receptivity of them; and we quite definitely know
that if there exist any division at all among things in themselves,
it will in no case be a division in terms of space and time according to
our usual understanding of these words, because such a division is
not a property of things, but of our knowledge of things gained
through the senses. Moreover, we do not know if it is even
possible to distinguish those divisions which we see, i. e., in space
and time, if things are looked at not through human eyes, not from
the human standponL In point of fact we do not know but that

BERKELEY'S "DOGMATIC IDEALISM'" 17
our world would present an entirely different aspect for a differently
huilt organism.
We cannot perceive things as images outside of the categories of
space and time, but we constantly think of them outside of space
and time.
When we say that table, we picture the table to ourselves in space
and time; but when we sayan object made of wood, not meaning
any definite thing, but speaking generally, it will relate to all
things made of wood throughout the world, and in all ages. An
imaginative person could conceive that we are referring to some
great thing made of wood, composed of all objects whenever and
wherever wooden things existed, these forming its constituent
atoms, as it were.
We do not comprehend all these matters quite clearly, hut in
general it is plain that we think in space and time by perceptions
only; but by concepts we think independently of space and
time.

Kant named his views critical idealism, in contradiction to
dogmatic idealism, of whch Berkeley was a representative.
AcCording to dogmatic idealism, all the world, all things-i. e.,
the true causes of our sensations-do not exist except in our con-
sciousness: they exist only so far as we know them. The entire
world perceived hy us is just a reflection of ourselves.
Kantian idealism recognizes a world of causes outside of us, .but
asserts that we cannot know the world by means of sensuous per-
ception, and everything that we perceive, generally speaking, is
of our own creation-the product of a cognizing being.
So, according to Kant, everything that we find in things is put
in them by ourselves. Independently of ourselves we do not
know what the world is like. And our cognition of things has
nothing in common with the things as they are outside of us-that
is, in themselves. Furthermore, and most important, our ignor-
ance of things in themselves does not depend upon our insufficient
know.ledge, but is due to the fact that- by means of sensuous
perception we cannot know the world correctly at all. That is

18 TERTIUM ORGANUM
to say, we cannot truly declare that although now we perhaps
know little, presently we shall know more, and at length shall
come to a correct understanding of the world. It is not true be-
cause our experimental knowledge is not a confused perception
of a real world. It is a very acute perception of an entirely unreal
world appearing round about us at the moment of our contact
with the world of true causes, to which we cannot find the way
because we are lost in an unreal "material" world. For this
reason the extension of the objective sciences does not bring us
any nearer to the knowledge of things in themselves, or of tTU6
causes.

In A Critique of Pure Reason Kant affinns that:

Nothing which is intuited in space is a thing in itself, and space is not
a form which belongs as a property to things; but objects are quite un-
known to us in themselves, and what we call outward objects are nothing
else but mere representations of our sensibility, whose form is space, but
whose real correlated thing in itself is not known by means of these
representations, nor ever can be, but respecting which, in experience, no
inquiry is ever made.
The things which we intuit are not in themselves the same as our rep-
resentation of them in intuition, nor are their relations in themselves
so constituted as they appear to us; and if we take away the subject, or
even only the subjective constitution of our senses in genera), then not
only the nature and relations of objects in space and time disappear,
but even space and time themselves.
What may be the nature of objects considered as things in themselves
and without reference to the receptivity of our sensibility is quite un-
known to us. We know nothing more than our own mode of perceiving
them, which is peculiar to us and which though not of necessity pertain-
ing to every animated being, is so to the whole human race.
Supposing that we should carry our empirical intuition even to the
very highest degree of clearness we should not thereby advance one step
nearer to the constitution of objects as things in themselves.
To say then that our sensibility is nothing but the confused repre-
sentation of things containing exclusively that which belongs to them as
things in themselves, and this under an accumulation of characteristic
marks and 'partial representations which we cannot distinguish in con-
sciousness, is a falsification of the conception of sensibility and phe-
nomenization, which renders our whole doctrine thereof empty and

KANT'S PROPOSITIONS

useless. The difference between a oonfused and a clear representation IS
merely logical, and has nothing to do with content.

Up to the present time Kant's propositions have remained in
the very form that he left them. Despite the multiplicity of new
philosophical systems which appeared during the nineteenth cen-
tury, and despite the number of philosophers who have particu-
larly studied, commented upon, and interpreted Kant's writings,
Kant's principal propositions have remained quite undeveloped,
primarily because most people do not know how to read Kant at
all, and they therefore dwell upon the unimportant and non-
essential, ignoring the substance.
Yet really Kant simply put the question, threw to the world
the problem, demanding the solution but not pointing the way
toward it.
This fact is usually omitted when speaking of Kant. He pro-
pounded the riddle, but did not give the solution of it.
And to the present day we repeat Kant's propositions, we con-
sider them incontrovertible, but in the main we represent them
to our understanding very badly, and they are not correlated with
other departments of our knowledge. All our positive science-
physics (w.ith chemistry) and biology-is built upon hypotheses
CONTRADICTORY to Kant's propositions.
Moreover, we do not realize how we ourselves impose upon the
world the properties of space, i. e., extension; nor do we realize
how the world-earth, sea, trees, men-cannot possess such ex-
tension.
We do not understand how we can see and measure that exten-
sion if it does not exist-nor what the world represents in itself, if
it does not possess extension.
But does the world really exist? Or, as a logical conclusion
from Kant's ideas, shall we recognize the validity of Berkeley's
idea, and deny the existence of the world itself except in imagina-
tion?

Positive philosophy stands in a very ambiguous relation to
Kant's views. It accepts them and it does not accept them: it ae-

TERTIUM ORGANUM

cepts, and considers them correct in their relation to the direct
experience of the organs of sense-what we see, hear, touch. That
is, positive philosophy recognizes the subjectivity of our recep-
tivity, and recognizes everything that we perceive in objects as
imposed upon them by ourselves-but this in relation to the di-
rect experience of the senses only.
When it concerns itself with "scientific experience" however, in
which precise instruments and calculations are used, positive
philosophy evidently considers Kant's view in relation to that
invalid, assuming that "scientific experience" makes known to us
the very substance of things, the true causes of our sensations-or
if it does not do so now, it brings us closer to the truth of things,
and can inform us later.
Contrary to Kant, the positivists are sure that "more clear knowl-
edge of phenomena makes them acquainted with things in them-
selves." They think that in looking upon physical phenomena as
the motions of the ether, or as electrical or magnetic phenomena,
and calculating their motions, they begin to know the very sub-
stance of things, i. e., the causes of phenomena; in other words, they
believe exactly in the possibility of what Kant denied-the CfJm-
prehension of the true substance of things by means of the investiga-
tion of phenomena. Moreover many physicists do not consider
it necessary even to know Kant; and they could not themselves
exactly define in what relation they stand toward him. Of course
it is possible not to know Kant, but it is impossible to controvert
him. Every description of physical phenomena, by its every word,
is related to the problems set forth by Kant-remains in this or
that relation to them.
In general, the position of "science" in regard to this question
of "subjectively imposed" or "objectively cognized" is more than
tottering, and in order to form its conclusions "science" is forced
to accept many purely hypothetical suppositions as things known
-as indubitable data, not demanding proof.
Moreover, physicists forget one very significant fact: in his
book, Analysis of Sensations, Mach says:

In the investigation of purely physical processes we generally employ
concepts of so abstract a character that as a rule we think only cursorily,
or not at all, of the sensations ( elements) that lie at their base. . .

MACH'S ANALYSIS

The foundation of all purely physical operations is based upon an almost
unending series of sensations, particularly if we take into consideration
the adjustment of the apparatus which must precede the actual experi-
ment. Now it can easily happen to the physicist who does not study
the psychology of his operations, that he does not (to reverse a well-known
saying) see the trees for the wood, that he overlooks the sensory ele-
ment at the foundation of his work. _ . Psychological analysis has
taught us that this is not surprising, since the physicist is always oper-
ating with sensations. *

Mach here calls attention to a very important thing. Physi-
cists do not consider it necessary to know psychology and to deal
with it in their conclusions.
But when they are more or less acquainted with psychology, with
that part of it which treats of the forms of receptivity, and take it into
consideration, then they hold the most fantastic duality of opinion,
as in the case of the man of orthodox belief who tries to reconcile
the dogmas of faith with the arguments of reason, and who is obliged
to believe simultaneously in the creation of the world in seven days,
seven thousand years ago, and in geological periods hundreds of
thousands of years long, and in the evolutionary theory. He is thus
forced to resort to sophisms, and demonstrate that by seven dars
is meant seven periods. But why seven, exactly, he is unable to
explain. For physicists the rOle of the "creation of the world" is
played by the atomic theory and the ether, with its wave-like
vibrations, and further by the electrons, and the energetic, or electro-
magnetic theory of the world.
Or sometimes it is even worse, for the physicist in the depth of
his soul feels the falsity of all old and new scientific theories but
fears to hang in the air, as it were; to take refuge in mere negation.
He has no system in place of that whose falsity he already feels; he
is afraid to make a plunge into mere emptiness. Lacking sufficient
courage to declare that he believes in nothing at all, he accoutres
himself in all contradictory theories, as in an official uniform, only
because with this uniform are bound up certain rights and privileges,
outer as well as inner, consisting of a certain confidence in himself
and in his surroundings, to forego which he has no strength and
determination. The unbelieving positivist-this is the tragic fig-
ure of our times, analogous to the atheist or unbelieving priest of
the times of Voltaire.
· Open Court Publishing Co.'11 edition of Mach's work. 1914, pages 41, 42. and 43.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

Out of this abhorrence of a vacuum come all dualistic theories
which recognize "spirit" and "matter" existing simultaneously and
independently of one another.

In general, to a disinterested observer, the state of our con-
temporary science should be of great psychological interest. In
all branches of scientific knowledge we are absorbing an enormous
number of facts destructive of the harmony of existing systems.
And these systems can maintain themselves only by reason of the
heroic attempts of scientific men who are trying to close their eyes
to a long series of new facts which threatens to submerge every-
thing in an irresistible stream. If in reality we were to collect
these system-destroying facts they would be so numerous in every
department of knowledge as to exceed those upon which existing
systems are founded. The systematization of that which we do not
know may yield us more for tbe true understanding of the world
and the self than the systematization of that which in the opinion
of "exact science" we do know.

CHAPTER II

A new view of the Kantian problem. The books of Hinton. The "space-
sense" and its evolution. A system for the development of a sense
of the fourth dimension by exercises with colored cubes. The
geometrical conception of space. Three perpendiculars--why
three? Can everything existing be measured by three perpendicu-
lars? The indices of existence. Reality of ideas. Insufficient evi-
dence of the existence of matter and motion. Matter and motion
are only logical concepts, like "good" and "evil."

A s already stated, Kant propounded the problem, but gave
no solution of it, nor did he point the way to a solution.
And not one of the known commentators, interpreters,
followers or adversaries of Kant has found a solution, or the way
to it.
I find the first Hashes of a right understanding of the Kantian
problem, and the first suggestions in regard to a possible way
toward its solution, in the attempts at a new treatment of the problem
of space and time, involving the concept of the "fourth dimension"
and higher dimensions in general. An interesting synopsis of many
things developed in this direction is that of C. H. Hinton, author
of the books, A New Era of Thought, and The Fourth Dimension.
Hinton notes, among other things, that in commenting upon Kant-
ian ideas, only their negative side is usually insisted upon, namely,
the fact that we can cognize things in a sensuous way, in terms of
space and time only, is regarded as an obstacle, hindering us from
seeing what things in themselves really are, preventing the pos-
sibility of cognizing them as they are, imposing upon them that
which is not inherent in them, shutting them off from us.

But [says Hinton] if we take Kant's statement simply as it is-not
seeing in the spatial conception a hindrance to right receptivity-that
we apprehend things by means of space-then it is equally allowable to
consider our space sense not as a negative condition, hindering our percep-
tion of the world, but as a positive means by which the mind grasps its
experiences, i. e., by which we cognize the world.
23

TERTIUM ORGANUM

There is, in so many books in which the subject is treated, a certain
air of despondency-as if this space apprehension were a kind of veil
which shut us off from nature. But there is no need to adopt this feeling.
The first postulate of this book is a full recognition of the fact that it is by
means of space that we apprehend what is.
Space is the instrument of the mind.
Very often a statement which seems to be most deep and abstruse and
hard to grasp, is simply the form into which deep thinkers have thrown
a very simple and practical observation. And for the present let us look
on Kant's great doctrine of space from a practical point of view, and it
comes to this--it is important to develop the space sense, for it is the
means by which we think about real things.
Now according to Kant [Hinton goes on to say] the space sense, or
the intuition of space, is the most fundamental power of the mind. But
I do not find anywhere a systematic and thorough-going education of
the space sense. It is left to be organized by accident. Yet the special
development of the space sense makes us acquainted with a whole series
of new conceytions.
Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, have developed certain tendencies and have
written remarkable books, but the true successors of Kant are Gauss and
Lobachevsky.
For if our intuition of space is the means whereby we apprehend, then
it follows that there may be different kinds of intuitions of space. Who
can tell what the absolute space intuition is? This intuition of space
must be colored, so to speak, by the conditions (of psychical activity) of
the being which uses it.
By a remarkable analysis the great geometers above mentioned have
shown that space is not limited as ordinary experience would Seem to
inform us, but that we are quite capable of conceiving different kinds of
space. (A New Era of Thought.)

Hinton invented a complicated system for the education and
development of the space sense by means of exercises with groups
the cubes of different colors. The books above mentioned are
devoted to the exposition of this system. In my opinion Hinton's
exercises are interesting from a theoretical standpoint, but they
are practically valuable only for such as have the same turn of
mind as Hinton's own.
Exercises of the mind according to his system must first of all
lead to the development of the ability to imagine objects, not as
the eye sees them, i. e., in perspective, but as they are geometric-
ally-to learn to imagine the cube, for example, simultaneously
from all sides. Moreover such a development of the imagination

HINTON ON DIMENSIONALITY 25
as overcomes the illusions of perspective results in the expansion
of the limits of consciousness, thus creating new conceptions and
augmenting the faculty for pe.rceiving analogies.

Kant established the fact that the development of knowledge
under the existing conditions of receptivity will not bring us any
closer to things in themselves. But there are theories asserting that
it is possible, if desired, to change the very conditions of receptivity,
and thus to approach the true substance of things. In the .books
above referred to, Hinton tries to unite the scientific foundations of
such theories.

Our space as we ordinarily think of it is conceived as limited-not in
extent, but in a certain way which can only be realized when we think
of our ways of measuring space -objects. It is found that there are only
three independent directions in which a body can be measured-it must
have height, length and breadth, but it has no more than these dimen-
sions, if any other measurement be taken in it, this new measurement
will be found to be compounded of the old measurements.
It is impossible to find a point in the body which could not be arrived
at by travelling in combinations of the three directions already taken.
But why should space be limited to three independent directions?
Geometers have found that there is no reason why bodies which we
can measure should thus be limited. As a matter of fact all the bodies
which we can measure are thus limited. So we come to this conclusion,
that the space which we use for conceiving ordinary objects in the world
is limited to three dimensions. But it might be possible for there to be
beings living in a world such that they would conceive a space 0/ four'
dimensions. *
It is possible to say a great deal about space of higher dimensions than
-our -own, and to work out analytically many problems which suggest
themselves. But can we conceive four-dimensional space in the same
way in which we can conceive our own space? Can we think of a !body in
four dimensions as a unit having properties in the same way as we think
pf a body having a definite shape in the space with which we are familiar?
There is really no more difficulty in conceiving four-dimensional
shapes, when we go about it in the right way, than in conceiving the idea
-of solid shapes, nor is there any mystery at all about it.
When the faculty to apprehend in four dimensions is acquired-or
rather when it is brought into consciousness-for it exists in every
· Italics by P. D. Ouepensky. TraMl.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

one in imperfect form-a new horizon opens. The mind acquires a
development of power, and in this use of ampler space as a mode of
thought, a path is opened by using that very truth which, when first
stated by Kant, seemed to close the mind within such fast limits. Our
perception is subject to the condition of being in space. But space is not
limited as we at first think.
The next step after having formed this power of conception in ampler
space, is to investigate nature and see what phenomena are to be ex.
plained by four-dimensional relations.
The thought of past ages has used the conception of a three-dimensional
Bpace, and by that means has classified many phenomena and has ob.
tained rules for dealing with matters of great practical utility. The path
which opens immediately before us in the future is that of applying the
conception of four-dimensional space to the phenomena of nature, and of
investigating what can be found out by this new means of apprehension. . . .
For development of knowledge it is necessary to separate the self-
elements, i. e., the personal elements which we put in everything cognized
by us, from that which is cognized, in order that our attention may not be
distracted (upon ourselves) from the properties which we, in substance,
preceive.
Only by getting rid of the self-elements in our receptivity do we put
ourselves in a position in which we can propound sensible questions.
Only by getting rid of the notion of a circular motion of the sun around
the earth (i. e., around us-self-element) do we prepare our way to stud,.-
the sun as it really is.
But the worst about a self-element is that its presence is never dreamed
of till it is got rid of.
In order to understand what the self-element in our receptivity means,
imagine ourselves to be translated suddenly to another part of the uni.
verse, and to find there intelligent beings and to hold conversation with
them. If we told them that we came from this world, and were to
describe the sun to them, saying that it was a bright, hot body which
moved around us, they would reply: "Y ou have told us sometihing
about the sun, but you have also told us something about yourselves.". . .
Therefore, desiring to tell something about the sun, we shall first of
all get rid of the self-element which is introduced into our knowledge of
the sun by the movement of the earth, upon which we are, round it. . . .
One of our serious pieces of work will be to get rid of the self-elements
in the knowledge of the arrangement of objects.
The relations of our universe or our space with regard to the wider
universe of four-dimensional space are altogether undetermined. The
real relationship will require a great deal of study to apprehend, and
when apprehended will seem as natural to us as the position of the earth
among the other planets seems to us now. . . .
I would divide studies of arrangement into two classes: those which

WHAT IS SPACE?

create the faculty of arrangement, and those which use it and exercise
it. Mathematics exercises it, but I do not think it creates it; and un-
fortunately, in mathematics as it is now often taught, the pupil is
launched into a vast system of symbols: the whole use and meaning of
symbols (namely, as meaDS to acquire a clear grasp of facts) is lost to
him. . ..
Of the possible units which will serve for the study of arrangement, I
take the cube; and I have found that whenever I took any other unit I
got wrong, puzzled, and lost my way. With the cube one does not get
along very fast, but everything is perfectly obvious and simple, and
builds up into a whole of which every part is evident. . . .
Our work then will be this: a study, by means of cubes, of the facts of
arrangement; and the process of learning will be an active one of actually
putting up the cubes. Thus we will bring our minds into contact with
nature. (A New Era of Thought.)

Taking all these things into consideration, we should try to define
clearly our understanding of those sides of our receptivity dealt
with by Kant.
What is space?
Taken as object, that is, perceived by our consciousness, space
is for us the form of the universe or the form of the matter in the
universe.
Space possesses an infinite extension in all directions. But it
can be measured in only three directions independent of one
another-in length, breadth, and height; these directions we call
the dimensions of space, and we say that our space has three
dimensions: it is three-dimensional.
By independent direction we mean in this case a line at right
angles to another line.
Our geometry (or the science of measurement of the earth, or
matter in space) knows only three such lines, which are mutually
at right angles to one another and not parallel among them-
selves.
But why three only, and not ten or fifteen?
This we do not know.
And here is another very significant fact: either because of some
mysterious property of the universe, or because of some mental

TERTIUM ORGANUM

limitation, we cannot even imagine to ourselves more than three
independent directions.
But we speak of the universe as infinite, and because the first
condition of infinity is infinity in all directions and in all. possible
relations, so we must presuppose in space an infinite number of
dimensions: that is, we must presuppose an infinite number of
lines perpendicular and not parallel to each other; and yet out of
these lines we know, for some reason, only three.
It is usually in some such guise that the question of higher
dimensionality appears to normal human consciousness.
Since we cannot construct more than three mutually inde-
pendent perpendiculars, and if the three. dimensionality of our
space is conditional upon this, we are forced to admit the indubit-
able fact of the limitedness of our space in relation to geometrical
possibilities: though of course if the properties of space are created
by some limitation of consciousness, then the limitedness lies in
ourselves.
No matter what this limitedness depends on, it is a fact that it
exists.
A given point can be the vertex of only eight independent
tetrahedrons. Through a given point it is possible to draw only
three perpendicular and not parallel straight lines.
Upon this as a basis, we define the dimensionality of space by
the number of lines it is possible to draw in it which are mutually
at right angles one with another.
The line upon which there cannot be a perpendicular, that is,
another line, constitutes linear, or one.dimensional space.
Upon the surface two perpendiculars are possible. This is
superficial, or two-dimensional space.
In "space" three perpendiculars are possible. This is solid, or
three-dimensional space.
The idea of the fourth dimension arose from the assumption
that in addition to the three dimensions known to our geometry
there exists still a fourth, for some reason unknown and inaccessi-
ble to us, i. e., that in addition to the three known to us, a mys-
terious fourth perpendicular is possible.
This assumption is practically founded on the consideration

PHYSICAL AND METAPHYSICAL FACTS 29
that there are things and phenomena in the world undoubtedly
really existing, but quite incommensurable in terms of length,
breadth and thickness, and lying as it were outside of three-
dimensional space.

By really existing we understand that which produces definite
action, which possesses certain functions, which appears to be the
cause of something else.
That which does not exist cannot produce any action, has no
function, cannot be a cause.
But there are different modes of existence. There is physical
existence, recognized by certain sorts of actions and functions,
and there is metaphysical existence, recognized by its actions and
its functions.
A house exists, and the idea of good and evil exists. But they
do not exist in like manner. One and the same method of proof of
existence does not suffice for the proof of the existence of a house
and for the proof of the existence of an idea. A house is a physical
fact, an idea is a metaphysical fact. Physical and metaphysical
facts exist, but they exist differently.
In order to prove the idea of a division into good and evil, i. e.,
a metaphysical fact, I have only to prove its possibility. This
is already sufficiently established. But if I should prove that a
house, i. e., a physical fact, mar exist, it does not at all mean that
it exists really. If I prove that a man mar own the house it is no
proof that he owns it.
Our relation to an idea and to a house are quite different. It is
possible by a certain effort to destroy a house-to burn, to wreck
it. The house will cease to exist. But suppose you attempt to
destroy, by an effort, an idea. The more you try to contest, argue,
refute, ridicule, the more the idea is likely to spread, grow,
strengthen. And contrariwise, silence, oblivion, non-action, "non-
resistance" will exterminate, or in any case will weaken the idea.
Silence, oblivion, will not wreck a house, will not hurt a stone.

30 TER TIUM ORGANUM
It is clear that the existence of a house and that of an idea are
quite different existences.
Of such different existences we know very many. A hook exists,
and also the contents of a book. Notes exist, and so does the music
that the notes combine to make. A coin exists, and so does the pur-
chasing value of a coin. A word exists, and the energy which it
contains.
We discern on the one hand, a whole series of physical facts, and
on the other hand, a series of metaphysical facts.
As facts of the first kind exist, so also do facts of the second
kind exist, hut differently.
From the usual positivist point of view it will seem naive in the
highest degree to speak of the purchasing value of a coin separately
from the coin; of the energy of a u'Ord separately from the word;
of the contents of a book separately from the hook, and so on.
We all know that these are only "what people say," that in reality
purchasing value, energy of a ward, and contents of a book do not
exist, that hy these conceptions we only denote a series of phe-
nomena in some way linked with coin, word, hook, hut in substance
quite separate from them.
But is it so?
We decided to accept nothing as given, consequently we shall
not negate anything as given.
We see in things, in addition to what is external, something in-
ternal. We know that this internal element in things constitutes
a continuous part of things, usually their principal substance. And
quite naturally we ask ourselves, where is this internal element,
and what does it represent in and hy itself. We see that it is not
embraced within our space. We hegin to conceive of the idea of a
"higher space" possessing more dimensions than ours. Our space
then appears to he somehow a part of higher space, i. e., we hegin
to believe that we know, feel, and measure only part of space, that
part which is measurable in terms of length, width and height.

As was said hefore, we usually regard space as a form of the
universe, or as a form of the matter of the univers
. To make this

.. MAT T E R" 0 N L Y A LOG I C A L CON C E P T 31
clear it is possible to say that a "cube" is the form of the matter
in a cube; a "sphere" is the form of the matter in a sphere;
£'space"-an infinite sphere-is the form of the entire matter of
the universe.
H. P. Blavatsky, in The Secret Doctrine, has this to say about
space:

The superficial absurdity of assuming that Space itself is measurable
in any direction is of little- consequence. The familiar phrase (the
fourth dimension of space) can only be an abbrevimion of the fuller
form-the "Fourth dimension 0/ Matter in Space.". . . The progress
of evolution may be destined to introduce U8 to new characteristics 0,£
matter. . . ." *

But the formula defining "space" as "the form of matter in the
universe" suffers from this deficiency, that there is introduced in
it the concept of "matter," i. e., the unknown.
I have already spoken of that "dead-end siding," x y , y x , to
which all attempts at the physical definition of matter inevitably
lead.
Psychological definitions lead to the same thing.
In a well.known book, The Psychology of the Soul, A. I. Herzen
says:

We call matter everything which directly or indirectly offers resist-
ance to motion, directly or indirectly produced by us, manifesting a
remarkable analogy with our passive states.
And we call force (motion) that which directly or indirectly com-
municates movement to us or to other bodies, thus manifesting the
greatest similitude to our active states.

Consequently, "matter" and "motion" are something like pro-
jections of our active and passive states. It is clear that it is
possible to define the passive state only in terms of the active, and
the active in terms of the passive-again two unknowns, defining
one another.
E. Douglas Fawcett, in an article entitled Idealism and the
Problem of Nature in The QMst (April, 1910), discusses matter
from this point of view.
· "The Secret D.octrine," The Theosophical Publishing Society. Third Edition, p.
271, vol. I.

,TERTIUM ORGANUM

Matter (like force) does not give U8 any trouble. We know all about
it, for the very good reason that we invented it. By "matter" we think of
sensuous objects. It is mental change of concrete but tco complicated
facts, which are difficult to deal with.
Strictly speaking, matter exists only as a concept. Truth to tell, the
character of matter, even when treated only as a conception, is so un-
obvious that the majority of persons are unable to tell UB exactly what
they mean by it. .

An important fact is here brought to light: matter and force are
just logical concepts, i. e., only words accepted for the designation
of a lengthy series of complicated facts. It is difficult for us, edu-
cated almost exclusively along physical lines, to understand this
clearly, but in substance it may be stated as follows: Who has
seen nwlter and force, and when ? We see things, see phenomena.
Matter, independently of the substance from which a given thing
is made, or of which it consists, we have never seen and never
shall see; but the given substance is not quite matter, this is wood,
or iron or stone. Similarly, we shall never see force separately
from motion. What does this mean? It means that cCmatter"
and c'force" are just such abstract conceptions as "value" or
"labor," as "the purchasing value of a coin" or the "contents" of
a book; it means that matter is "such stuff as dreams are made
of." And because we can never touch this "stuff" and can see it
only in dreams, so we can never touch physical matter, nor see,
nor hear, nor photograph it, separately from the object. We cognize
things and phenomena which are bad or good, but we never
cognize C'matter" and ccforce" separately from things and phe-
nomena.
Matter is as much an abstract conception as are truth, good and
evil.
It is as impossible to put matter or any part of matter into a
chemical retort or crucible as it is impossible to sell CCEgyptian
darkness" in vials. However as it is said that "Egyptian darkness"
is sold as a black powder in Athos, or elsewhere, therefore perhaps
somewhere, by some one, even matter has been seen. *
· This is irony which the English speaking may easily fail to understand. Some un-
Bcrupulous monks of the monastery of Athos, famous throughout Greece and Russia.
made a practice, it is said, of selling "Egyptian darkness" in little vials, thus making
capital out of the credulity and piety of the illiterate Russian pilgrims who were wont
to visit this monastry in great numbers. Transl.

THE STUDY OF SPACE 33
In order to discuss questions of this order a certain preparation
is necessary, or a high degree of intuition; but unfortunately it is
customary to consider fundamental questions of cosmogony very
lightly.
A man easily admits his incompetency in music, dancing, or
higher mathematics, but he always maintains the privilege of
having an opinion and being a judge of questions relating to "first
principles."
It is difficult to discuss with such men.
For how will you answer a man who looks at you in perplexitv,
knocks on the table' with his fingers and says, "This is matter. I
know it; feel! How can it be an abstract conception?" To answer
this is as difficult as to answer the man who says: "I see that the
sun rises and sets!"

Returning to the consideration of space, we shall under no cir-
.cumstances introduce unknown quantities in the definition of it.
We shall define it only in terms of those two data which we decided
to accept at the very beginning.
The world and consciousness are the facts which we decided to
recognize as existing.
By the world we mean the combination of all the causes of our
sensations in general.
By the material world we mean the combination of causes of a
definite series of sensations: those of sight, hearing, touch, smell,
taste, sensations of weight, and so on.
Space is either a property of the world or a property of our
knowledge of the world.
Three-dimensional space is either a property of the material
world or a property of our receptivity of the material world. -
Our inquiry is confined to the problem: how shall we approach
the study of space?

CHAPTER III

What may we learn about the fourth dimension by a study of the geo.
metrical relations within our space? What should be the relation
between a three-dimensional body and one of four dimensions? The
four-dimensional body as the tracing of the movement of a three-
dimensional body in the direction which is not confined within it.
A four-dimensional body as containing an infinite number of three-
dimensional bodies. A three-dimensional body as a section of a
four-dimensional one. Parts of bodies and entire bodies in three
and in four dimensions. The incommensurability of a three-
dimensional and a four-dimensional body. A material atom as a
section of a four-dimensional line.

I F we consider the very great difference between the point and
the line, between the line and the surface--surface and solid,
i. e., the difference between the laws to which line and plane,
plane and surface, etc., are subjected, and the difference of phenom-
ena possible in point, in line, in surf ace, we shall indeed come to
understand how much of the new and inconceivable the fourth di-
mension holds for us.
Ai3 in the point it is impossible to imagine the line and the laws
of the line; as in the line it is impossible to imagine the surface and
the laws of the surface; as in the surface it is impossible to imagine
the solid and the laws of the solid; so in our space it is impossible
to imagine the body having more than three dimensions, and im-
possible to understand the laws of the existence of such a body.
But studying the mutual relations between the point, the line,
the surface, the solid, we begin to learn something about the fourth
dimension, i. e., of four-dimensional space. We begin to learn
what it can be in comparison with our three-dimensional space, and
what it cannot be.
This last we learn first of all. And it is especIally important,
because it saves us from many deeply inculcated illusions, which
are very detrimental to right knowledge.
34

SPACE RELATIONS

35
space, and this

We learn what cannot be in four-dimensional
permits us to set forth what can be there.
In his book, The F olUth Dimension, Hinton makes an interest.
ing statement concerning the method by which we may approach
the problem of higher dimensions. He says:

Our space itself bears within it relations through which we can establish
relations to other (higher) spaces.
For within space are given the conception of point and line, line and
plane, which really involve the relation of space to a higher space.

Let us consider these relations within our space, and see what
conclusions we can derive from their investigation.
We know that our geometry regards the line as a tracing of the
movement of a point; the surface as a tracing of the movement
of a line; and the solid as a tracing of the movement of a surface.
On these premises we .put to ourselves this question: Is it not possi-
ble to regard the "four-dimensional body" as a tracing of the move-
ment of a three-dimensional body?
But what is this movement, and in what direction?
The point, moving in space, and leaving the tracing of its move-
ment, a line, moves in a direction not contained in it, because in a
point there is no direction whatsoever.
The line, moving in space, and leaving the tracing of its move--
ment, the surface, moves in a direction not contained in it because,
moving in a direction contained in it, a line will continue to be a
line.
The surface, moving in space, and leaving a tracing of its move-
ment, the solid, moves also in a direction not contained in it. If
it should move otherwise, it would remain always the surface. In
order to leave a tracing of itself as a "solid," or three-dimensional
figure, it must set 00 from itself, move in a direction which in itself
it has not.
In analogy with all this, the solid, in order to leave as the tracing
of its movement, the four-dimensional figure (hypersolid) shall
move in a direction not confined in it; or in other words it shall
come out of itself, set 00 from itself, move in a direction which
is not present in it. Later on it will be shown in w1hat manner we
shall understand this.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

But for the present we can say that the .jirection of the move-
ment in the fourth dimension lies out of all those directions which
are possible in a three-dimensional figure.
We consider the line as an infinite number of points; the surface
as an infinite number of lines; tJhe solid as an infinite number of
surfaces.
In analogy with this it is possible to consider that it is necessary
to regard a four.dimensional body as an infinite munber of three.
dimensional bodies, and four-dimensional space as an infinite num-
ber of three-dimensional spaces.
Moreover, we know that the line is limited by points, that the
surface is limited by lines, that the solid is limited by surfaces.
It is possible If.hat a four-dimensional body is limited by three-
dirn.ensional bodies.
Or it is possible to say that the line is the distance between two
points; the surface rlte distance between two lines; the solid-be-
tween two surfaces.
Or again, that the line separates two points or several points from
one another ( for a straight line is the shortest distance between
two points); that the surface separates two or several lines from each
other; that the solid sepamtes several surfaces one from anotJher;
as the cube separates six flat surfaces one from another-its faces.
The line binds several separate points into a certain whole (the
straight, the curved, the broken line); the surface binds several
lines into a certain whole (the quadrilateral, the triangle); the
solid binds several surfaces into a certain whole (the cube, the
pyramid) .
It is possible that four.dimensional space is the distance between a
group of solids, separating these solids, yet at the same time binding
them into some to us inconceivable wlwle, even though they seem to
be separate from one another.
Moreover, we regard the point as a section of a line; the line as a
section of a surface; the surface as a section of a solid.
By analogy, it is possible to regard the solid (the cube, sphere,
pyramid) as a section of a four-dimensional body, and our entire
three-dimensional space as a section of a four-dimensional space.
If every three-dimensional body is the section of a four-dimen-
sional one, then every point of a three-dimensional body is the

P LAN E PRO J E C T ION S 0 F SOL IDS 37
section of a four-dimensional line. It is possible to regard an
"atom" of a physical body, not as something material, but as an
intersection of a four-dimensional line by the plane of our con-
sciousness.
The view of a three-dimensional body as the section of a four-
dimensional one leads to the thought that many (for us) separ-
ate bodies may be the sections of parts of one f,our-dimensional
body.
A simple example will clarify this thought. If we imagine a
horizontal plane, intersecting the top of a tree, and parallel to the
surface of the earth, then u.pon this plane the sections of branches
will seem separate, and not bound to one another. Yet in our
space, from our standpoint, these are sections of branches of one
tree, comprising together one top, nourished from one root, casting
one shadow.
Or here is another interesting example expressing the same idea,
given by Mr. Leadbeater, the theosophical writer, in one of his
books. If we touch the surface of a table wilJ:h our finger tips, then
upon the surface will be just five circles, and from this plane pre-
sentment it is impossible to construe any idea of the hand, and of
the man to whom this hand belongs. Upon 'lJhe table's surface will
be five separate circles. How from them is it possible to imagine
a man, with all the richness of his physical and spiritual life? It
is impossible. Our relation to the four-dimensional world will he
analogous to the relation of that consciousness whioh sees five circles
upon the table to a man. We see just "finger tips"-to us the fourth
dimension is inconceivable.
We know that it is possible to represent a three-dimensional body
upon a plane, that it is possible to draw a cube, a polyhedron or
a sphere. This will not be a real cube or a real sphere, but the
projection of a cube or of a sphere on a plane. We may conceive of
the three-dimensional bodies of our space somewhat in the nature of
images in our space of to us incomprehensible four-dimensional
bodies.

CHAPTER IV

In what direction may the fourth dimension lie? What is motion? Two
kinds of motion-motion in space and motion in time-whith are
contained in every movement. What is time? Two ideas con-
tained in the conception of time. The new dimension of space, and
motion upon that dimension. Time as the fourth dimension of
space. Impossibility of understanding the fourth dimension with-
out the idea of motion. The idea of motion and the "time-sense."
The time-sense as a limit (surface) of the "space-sense." Hinton
on the law of surfaces. The "ether" as a surface. Riemann's
idea concerning the translation of time into space in the fourth die
mension. Present, past, and future. Why we do not see the past
and the future. Life as a feeling of one's way. Wundt on the
subject of our sensuous knowledge.

W E have established by a comparison of the relation of
lower dimensional figures to higher dimensional ones
that it is possible to regard a four-dimensional body
as t!b.e tracing of the motion of a three-dimensional body upon the
dimension not contained in it; i. e., that the direction of the motion
upon the fourth dimension lies outside of all the directions which
are possible in three-dimensional space.
But in what direction .is it?
In order to answer this question it will be necessary to discover
whether we do not know some motion not confined in three.dimen-
sional space.
We know that every motion in space is accompanied by that
which we call motion in time. Moveover, we know that every-
thing existing, even if not moving in space, moves eternally in
time.
And equally in all cases, whether speaking of motion or absence
of motion, we have in mind an idea of what was before, what now
becomes, and what will follow after. In other words, we have in
mind the idea of time. The idea of motion of any kind, also the
idea of absence of motion, is indissolubly bound up with the idea of
time. Any motion or absence of motion proceeds in time and
38

W HAT 1ST I ME? 39
cannot proceed out of time. Consequently, before speaking of
'What motion is, we must answer the question, what is time?
Time is the most formidahle and difficult problem which con-
fronts humanity.
Kant regards time as he does space: as a subjective form of our
receptivity; i. e., he says that we create time ourselves, as a function
of our receptive apparatus, for convenience in perceiving the out-
side world. Reality is continuous and constant, but in order to
make possible the perception of it, we must dissever it into sepa-
rate moments; imagine it as an infinite series of separate moments
out of which there exists for us only one. In other words, we
perceive reality as if through a narrow slit, and what we are seeing
through this slit we call the present; what we did see and now do
not see-the past; and what we do not quite see !but are expecting-
the future.
Regarding each phenomenon as an effect of another, or others,
and this in its turn as a cause of a third; that is, regarding all
phenomena in functional interdependence one upon another, by this
very act we are contemplating them in time, because we picture to
ourselves quite clearly and precisely first a cause, then an effect;
first an action, then its function; and cannot contemplate them other-
wise. Thus we may say that the idea of time is bound up with
the idea of causation and funol!ional interdependence. Without
time, causation cannot exist, just as without time, motion or the ab-
sence of motion cannot exist.
But our perception concerning our £'being in time" is entangled
and misty up to improbability.
First of all let us analyze our relation toward the past, present
and future. U sUl1lly we think that the past already does not exist.
It has passed, disappeared, altered, transformed itself into some-
thing else. The future also does not exist-it does not exist as yet.
It has not arrived, has not formed. - By the present we mean the
moment of transition of the future into the past, i. e., the moment
of transition of a phenomenon from one non-existence into anothe

non-existence. For that moment only does the phenomenon exist for
us in redity; before, it existed in potentiality, afterward it will
exist in remembrance. But this short moment is after all only
a fiction: it has no measurement. We have a full right to say that

TERTIUM ORGANUM

the present does not exist. We can never catch it. That which we
did catch is always the past!
If we are to stop at that we must admit that the world does not
exist, or exists only in some phantasmagoria of illusions, flashing
and disappearing.
Usually we take no account of this, and do not reflect that our
customary view of time leads to utter absurdity.
Let us imagine a stupid traveller going from one city to another
and half way between these two cities. A stupid traveller thinks
that the city from which he has departed last week does not exist
now: only the memory of it is left; the walls are ruined, the towers
fallen, the inhabitants have either died or gone away. Also, that
city at which he is destined to arrive in several days does not exist
now either, but is being hurriedly huilt for his arrival, and on the
day of that arrival will be ready, populated, and set in order, and
on the day after his departure will he destroyed just as was the
first one.
We are thinking of things in time exactly in this way-every-
thing passes away, nothing returns! The spring has passed, it
does not exist still. The autumn has not come, it does not exist
as yet.
But what does exist?
The present.
But the present is not a seizable moment, it is continuously trans-
itory into the past.
So, strictly speaking, neither the past, nor the present, nor the
future exists for us. Nothing exists! And yet we are living, feel.
ing, thinking-and something surrounds us. Consequently, in our
usual attitude toward time there exists some mistake. This error
we shall endeavor to detect.
We accepted at the very beginning that something exists. W 6
called that something the world. How then can the world exist if
it is not existing in the past, in the present and in the future?
That conception of the world which we deduced from our usual
view of time makes the world appear like a continuously gushing
out igneous fountain of fireworks, each spark of which flashes for
a moment and disappears, never to appear any more. Flashes are
going on continuously, following one after another, there are an

LIFE A FEELING ONE'S WAY 41
infinite number of sparks, and everything together produces the
impression of a Harne, though it does not exist in reality.
The autumn has not yet come. It will be, but it does not exist
now. And we give no thought to how that can appear which is not.
We are moving upon a plane, and recognize as really existing
only the small circle lighted by our consciousness. Everything out
of this circle, which we do not see, we negate; we do not like to
admit that it exists. Weare moving upon the plane in one direc-
tion. This direction we consider as eternal and infinite. But the
direction at right angles to it, those lines which we are intersecting,
we do not like to recognize as eternal and infinite. We imagine
them as going into non-existence at once, as soon as we have
passed them, and that the lines before us have not as yet risen out
of non-existence. If, presupposing that we are moving upon a
sphere, upon its equator or one of its parallels, then it will appear
that we recognize as really existing only one meridian: those which
are behind us have disappeared and those ahead of us have not
appeared as yet.
We are going forward like a blind man, who feels paving stones
and lanterns and walls of houses with his stick and believes in the
real existence of only that which he touches now, which he feels
now. That which has passed has disappeared and will never re-
turn! That which has not as yet been does not exist. The blind
man remembers the route which he has traversed; he expects that
ahead the way will continue, but he sees neither forward nor back-
ward because he does not see anything; because his instrumenl of
knowledge-tile stick-has a definite, and not very great length,
and beyond the reach of his stick non-existence begins.
Wundt, in one of his books, called attention to the fact that
our vaunted five organs of sense are in reality just feelers by which
we feel the world around us. We live groping about. We never
see anything. We are always just feeling everything. With the
help of the microscope and the telescope, the telegraph and the
telephone, we are extending our feelers a little, so to speak, but we
are not beginning to see. To say that we are seeing would be
possible only in case we could know the past and the future. But
we do not see, and because of this we can never assure ourselves of
that which we cannot feel.

42 TERTIUM ORGANUM
This is the reason why we count as really existing only that
circ::le which our feelers grasp at a given moment. Beyond that-
darkness and non-existence.
But have we any right to think in this way?
Let us imagine a consciousness that is not bound by the condi-
tions of sensuous receptivity. Such a consciousness can rise above
the plane upon which we are moving; it can see far beyond the
limits of the circle enlightened by our usual consciousness; it can
see that not only does the line upon which we are moving exist,
but also all lines perpendicular to it which we are intersecting,
which we have ever intersected, and which we shall intersect.
After rising above the plane this consciousness can see the plane,
can convince itself that it is really a plane, and not a single line.
Then it can see the past and the future, lying together and existing
simultaneously.
That consciousness. which is !not bound by the conditions of
sensuous receptivity can outrun the stupid traveller, ascend the
mountain to see in the distance the town to which he is going, and
be convinced that this town is not being built anew for his arrival,
but exists quite independently of the stupid traveller. And that
consciousness can look off and see on the horizon the towers of
that city where that traveller had been, and be convinced that those
towers have not fallen, that the city continues to s
y and live just
as it stayed and lived before the traveller's advent.
It can rise a!bove the plane of time and see the spring behind
and the autumn ahead, see simultaneously the budding Bowers and
ripening fruits. It can make the blind man recover his sight and
see the road along which he passed and that which still lies before
him.
The past and the future cannot not exist, because if they do not
exist then neither does the present exist. Unquestionably they exist
somewhere together, but we do not see them.
The present, compared with the past and the future, is the most
unreal of all unrealities.
We are forced to admit that the past, the present and the future
do not differ in anything, one from another; there exists just one
present-the Eternal Now of Hindu philosophy. But we do not
perceive this, because in every given moment we experience just a

THEORIES OF THE FUTURE 43
little bit of that present, and this alone we count as existent, deny-
ing a real existence to everything else.
If we admit this, then our view of everything with which we
are surrounded will change very considerably.
Usually we regard time as an abstraction, made by us during the
observation of really existing motion. That is, we think that ob-
serving motion, or changes of relations between things and compar-
ing the relations which existed before, which exist now, and which
may exist in the future, that we are deducing the idea of time. We
shall see later on how far this view is correct.
Thus the idea of time is composed of the conception of the past,
of the present, and of the future.
Our conceptions of the past and present, though not very clear,
are yet very much alike. As to the future there exists a great variety
of views.
It is necessary for us to analyze the theories of the future as they
exist in the mind of contemporary man.
There are in existence two theories-that of the foreordained
future, and that of the free future.
Foreordination is established in this way: we say that every
future event is the result of those which happened before, and is
created such as it will be and not otherwise as a consequence of a
definite direction of forces which are contained in preceding events.
This means, in other words, that future events are 'wholly con-
tained in preceding ones, and if we could know the force and direc-
tion of all events which have happened up to the present moment,
i. e., if we knew all the past, by this we could know all the future.
And sometimes, knowing the present momenl thoroughly., in all its
details, we may really foretell the future. If the prophecy is not
fuffilled, we say that we did not know all that hod been, and we dis-
cover in the past some cause which had escaped our observation.
The idea of the free future is founded upon the possibility of
voluntary action and accidental new combinations of causes. The
future is regarded as quite indefinite, or defined only in part,
because in every given moment new forces, new events and new
phenomena are born which lie in a potential state, not causeless,
but so incommensurable with causes-as the firing of a city from
one spark-that it is impossible to detect or measure them.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

This theory affirms that one and .the same action can have dif-
ferent results; one and the same cause, different effects; and it in-
troduces the hypothesis of quite arbitrary volitional actions on the
part of a man, bringing about profound changes in the subsequent
events of his own life and the lives of others,.
Supporters of the foreordination theory contend on the contrary
that volitional, involuntary actions depend also upon causes, mak-
ing them necessary and unavoidable at a given moment; that there
is nothing accidental, and that there cannot be; that we call acci-
dental only those things the causes of which we do not see by reason
of our limitations; and that different effects of causes seemingly
the same occur because the causes are different in reality and only
seem similar for the reason that we do not understand them well
enough nor see them sufficiently clearly.
The dispute between the theory of the foreordained future and
that of the free future is an infinite dispute. Neither of these
theories can say anything decisive. This is so because both theories
are too literal, too inflexible, too material, and one repudiates the
other: both say, "either this or the other." In the one case there
results a complete cold predestination: that which will be, will be,
nothing can be changed--that which will befall tomorrow was pre-
destined tens of thousands of years ago. There results in the other
case a life upon some sort of needle-point called the present, which
is surrounded on all sides by an abyss of non-existence, a journey
in a country which does not as yet exist, a life in a world which is
born and dies every moment, in which nothing ever returns. And
both these opposite views are equally untrue, because the truth,
in the given case, as in so many others, is contained in a union of
two opposite understandings in one.
In every given moment all the future of the world is predestined
and is existing, but is predestined conditionally, i. e., it will be
such or another future according to the direction of events at a
given moment, unless there enters a new fact, and a new fact can
enter only from the side of consciousness and the will resulting from
it. It is necessary to understand this, and to master it.
Besides this we are hindered from a right conception of the
relation of the present toward the future by our misunderstanding
of the relation of the present to the past. The difference of opinion

TIME AS THE FOURTH DIMENSION 45
exists only concerning the future; concerning the past all agree
that it has passed, that it does not exist now--and that it was such
os it has been. In this last lies the key to the understanding of
the incorrectness of our views of the future. As a matter of fact,
in reality our relation hoth to the past and to the future is far more
complicated than it seems to us. In the past, Ihehind us, lies not
only that which really happened, but that which could have been.
In the same way, in the future lies not only that which will he, but
everything that mar be.
The past and the future are equally undetermined, equally exist
in all their possibilities, and equally exist simultaneously with the
present.
By time we mean the distance separating events in the order of
their succession and hinding them in different wholes. This dis-
tance lies in a direction not contained in three-dimensional space,
therefore it will he the new dimension of space.
This new dimension satisfies all possible requirements of the
fourth dimension on the ground of the preceding reasoning.
It is incommensurahle with the dimensions of three-dimensional
space, as a rear is incommensurahle with St. Petersburg. It is
perpendicular to all directions of three-dimensional space and is
not parallel to any of theine
As a deduction from all the preceding we may say that time (as
it is usually understood) includes in itself two ideas: that of a cer-
tain to us unknown space (the fourth dimension), and that of a mo-
tion upon this space. Our constant mistake consists in the fact that
in time we never see two ideas, hut see always only one. Usu-
ally we see in time the idea of motion, hut cannot say from whence,
where, whither, nor upon what space. Attempts have heen made
heretofore to unite the idea of the fourth dimension with the idea of
time. But in those theories which have attempted to comhine the
idea of time with the idea of the fourth dimension appeared always
the idea of some spatial element as existing in time, and along with
it was admitted motion upon that space. Those who were con-
structing these theories evidently did not understand that leaving
out the possihility of motion they were advancing the demand for
a new time, Ihecause motion cannot proceed out of time. And as
a result time goes ahead of us, like our shadow, receding according

TERTIUM ORGANUM

as we approach it. All our perceptions of motion have become
confused. If we imagine the new dimension of space and the
possibility of motion upon this new dimension, time will still elude
us, and declare that it is unexplained, exactly as it was unexplained
hef ore.
It is necessary to admit that by one term, time, we designate
really two ideas-"a certain space" and "motion upon that space."
This motion does not exist in reality, and it seems to us as existing
only because we do not see the spatiality of time. That is, the
sensation of motion in time (and motion out of time does not exist)
arises in us J;>ecause we are looking at the world as if through a
narrow slit, and are seeing the lines of intersection of the time-
plane with our three-dimensional epace only.
Therefore it is necessary to declare how profoundly incorrect
is our usual theory that the idea of time is deduced by us from
the observation of motion, and is really nothing more than the
idea of that succession which is observed by us in motion.
It is necessary to recognize quite the reverse: that the idea of
motion is deduced by us out of an incomplete sensation of time, or
of the time-sense, i. e., out of a sense or sensation of the fourth
dimension, but out of an incomplete sensation. This incomplete
sensation of time (of the fourth dimension )-the sensation through
the slit-gives us the sensation of motion, that is, creates an illusion
of motion which does not exist in reality, but instead of which there
exists in reality only the extension upon a direction inconceivable
to us.

One other aspect of the question has very great significance.
The fourth dimension is bound up with the ideas of "time" and
"motion." But up to this point we shall not be able to understand
the fourth dimension unless we shall understand the fifth dimen-
SIOn.
Attempting to look at time as at an object, Kant says that it
has one dimension: i.e., he imagines time as a line extending from
the infinite future into the infinite past. Of one point of this line
we are conscious-always only one point. And this point has no
dimension .because that which in the usual sense we call the present, is
the recent past, and sometimes also the near future.

THE IDEA OF ETERNITY

This would he true in relation to our illusory perception of time.
But in reality eternity is not the infinite dimension of time, hut the
one perpendicular to time; hecause, if eternity exists, then every
moment is eternal. The line of time extends in that order of suc-
cession of phenomena which are in causal interdependenoe-first
the cause, then the effect: hefore, now, after. The line of eternity
extends perpendicularly to that line.
It is impossible to understand the idea of time without conceiv-
ing in imaginati-on the idea of eternity; it is likewise impossihle to
understand space if we have no idea of time.
From the standpoint of eternity, time does not differ in anything
from the other lines and dimensions of space-length, hreadth, and
height. This means that just as in space exist the things that
we do not see, or speaking differently, not alone that which we
see, so in time "events" exist hefore our consciousness has touched
them, and they still exist after our consciousness has left them
hehind.
Consequently, extension in time is extension into unknown space,
and therefore time is the fourth dimension of sp(1£e.

It is necessary that we should regard time as a spatial conception
considered with relation to our two data-the world and conscious-
ness (psychic life).
The idea of time arises through the knowledge of the world hy
means of sensuous receptivity. It has heen previously explained
that hecause of the properties of our sensuous receptivity we see
the world as through a narrow slit.
Out of this the following questions arise:
1. What accounts for the existence in the world of illusionary
motion? That is, why do we not see, through this slit, the same
thing? Why, hehind the slit, do changes proceed creating the il-
lusion of motion: that is, how and in what manner does the focus of
our receptivity run over the world of phenomena? In addition to
all this it is necessary to rememher that through the same slit through
which we see the world we ohserve ourselves and see in ourselves
changes similar to the changes in the rest of things.
2. Why can we not extend that slit?

TERTIUM ORGANUM

It is necessary to answer these questions.
First of all it is important to note that within the limits of our
usual observation our receptivity is always conditioned in the same
way and cannot escape these conditions. In other words, it is
chained, as it were, to some plane above which it cannot rise. These
conditions, or that plane we call, in the inner world, consciousness or
level of consciousness; in the outer world we call them malter or the
density of matter. (The word density is used in this connection
not in the sense of a solid, liquid or gaseous state, but in the sense
of the physical, the astral and the mental plane-accepting tern.
porarily the terminology employed in contemporary theosophical
literature.) Our usual psychic life proceeds upon some definite
plane (of consciousness or matter) and never rises above iL If our
receptivity could rise above this plane it would undoubtedly per.
ceive simuhaneously, below itself, a far greater number of events
than it usually sees while on a plane. Just as a man, ascending a
mountain, or going up in a balloon, begins to see simuhaneously
and at once many things which it is impossible to see simultaneously
and at once from below-the movement of two trains toward
one another between which a collision will occur; the approach of
an enemy detachment to a sleeping camp; two cities divided by a
ridge, etc.--so consciousness rising a,bove the plane in which it
usually functions, must see simultaneously the events divided for
ordinary consciousness by periods 0/ time. These will be the
events which ordinary consciousness never sees together, as: cause
and effect; the work and the payment; the crime and the punish-
ment; the movement of trains toward one another and their colli.
sion; the approach of the enemy and the battle; the sunrise and the
sunset; the morning and the evening; the day and the night; spring,
autumn, summer and winter; the birth and the death of a man.
The angle of vision will enlarge during such an ascent, the
mom,
t will expand.
If we imagine a receptivity which is on a level higher than our
consciousness, possessing a broader angle of view, then this
receptivity will be able to grasp, as something simultaneous, i. e.,
as a moment, all that is happening for us during a certain length
of time--minutes, hours, a day, a month. Within the limits of its
moment such a receptivity will not be in a position to discriminate

THE "TIME.SENSE" AND MOTION 49
between before, now, after; all this will be for it now. Now will
expand.
But in order for this to happen it would be necessary for us to
liberate ourselves from matter, because matter is nothing more
than the conditions of space and time in which we dwell. Thence
arises the question: can consciousness leave the conditions of
a given material existence without itself undergoing fundamental
changes, or without disappearing altogether, as men of positivistic
views would affirm?
This is a debatable question, and later I shall give examples and
proofs, speaking on behalf of the idea that our consciousness
can leave the conditions of a given materiality. For the present
I wish to establish what must proceed during this leav-
ing.
There would ensue the expansion of the moment, i. e., all that we
are apprehending in time would become something like a single
moment, in which the past, the present, and the future would be
seen at once. This shows the relativity of motion, as depending
for us upon the limitation of the moment, which includes only a
very small part of the moments of life perceived by us.
We have a perfect right to say, not that "time" is deduced from
"motion," but that motion is 'sensed because of the time-sense.
We have that sense, therefore we sense motion. The time-sense
is the sensation of changing moments. If we did not have this
time-sense we could not feel motion. The "time-sense" is itself,
in substance, the limit or the surface of our "space-sense." Where
the "space-sense" ends, there the "time-sense" begins. It has been
made clear that "time" is identical in its properties with "space,"
i. e., it has all the signs of space extension. However, we do not
feel it as spatial extension, but we feel it as time, that is, as some-
thing specific, inexpressible-in other words, uninterruptedly
bound up with "motion." This inability to sense time spatially
has its origin in the fact that the time-sense is a misty space-sense;
by means of our time-sense we feel obscurely the new character-
istics of space, which extend out from the sphere of three dimen-
sions.
But what is the time-sense and why does there arise the illusion
of motion?

TERTIUM ORGANUM

To answer this question at all satisfactorily is possible only by
studying the forms and levels of psychic life.
"I" is a complicated quantity, and within it goes on a continu-
ous motion. About the nature of this motion we shall speak later,
but this very motion inside of us creates the illusion of motion
around us, motion in the material world.

The noted mathematician Riemann understood that when higher
dimensions of space are in question, time, by some means, translates
its.elf into space, and he regarded the MATERIAL ATOM as the en':
trance of the fourth dimension into three-dimensionw.l space.
In one of his books Hinton writes very interestingly about "sur-
face tensions."

The relationship of a surface to a solid or of a solid to a higher solid
is one which we often find in nature.
A surface is nothing more nor less than the relation between two things.
Two bodies touch each other. The surface is the relationship of one to
the other.
If our space is in the same co-relation with higher space as is the surface
to our space, then it may be that our space is really the surface, that is, the
place of contact, of two higher-dimensional spaces.
It is a fact worthy of notice that in the surface of a fluid different laws
obtain from those which hold throughout the mass. There is a whole
series of facts which are grouped together under the name of surface ten-
sions, which are of great importance in physics, and by which the behavior
of the surfaces of liquids is governed.
And it may well be that the laws of our universe are the surface ten-
sions of a higher universe.
If the surface be regarded as a medium lying between bodies, then indeed
it will have no weight, but be a powerful means of transmitting vibrations.
Moreover, it would be unlike any other substance, and it would be im-
possible to get rid of it. However perfect a vacuum be made, there would
be in this vacuum just as much of this unknown medium (i. e., of that sur-
face) as there was before.
Matter would pass freely through this medium. . . vibrations of this
medium would tear asunder portions of matter. And involuntarily the con-
clusion would be drawn that this medium was unlike any ordinary
matter. . . . These would be very different properties to reconcile in one
and the same substance.

THE E THE R A "H I G HER" SUR F ACE 51
Now is there anything in our experience which corresponds to this
medium? . . .
Db we suppose the existence of any medium through which matter freely
moves, which yet by its vibrations destroys the combinations of matter
-some medium 'Which is present in every vacuum however perfect, which
penetrates all bodies, is weightless, and yet can never be laid hold of.
The "substance" which possesses all these qualities is called the "ether."
The properties of the ether are a perpetual object of investigation in
science. . . . But taking into consideration the ideas expressed before it
would be interesting to look at the world supposing that we are not in it
but on the ether; where the "ether" is the surface of contact of two bodies
of higher dimensions. *

Hinton here expresses an unusually interesting thought, and brings
the idea of the "ether" nearer to the idea of time. The material-
istic, or even the energetic understanding of contemporary physics of
the ether is perfectly fruitless-a dead-end siding. For Hinton the
ether is not a substance but only a "surface," the "boundary" of
something. But of what? Again not that of a substance, but the
boundary, the surface, the limit of one form of receptivity and the
beginning of another. . . .
In one sentence the walls and fences of the materialistic dead-end
siding are broken down and before our thought open wide horizons
of regions unexplored.
· Hinton, "A New Era of Thought," pp. 52, 56, 57.

CHAPTER V

Four-dimensional space. ''Temporal body"-Linga Sharira. The form
of a human body from birth to death. Incommensurability of
three-dimensional and four-dimensional bodies. Newton's fluents.
The unreality of constant quantities in our world. The right and
the left hands in three-dimensional and in four-dimensional space.
Difference between three-dimensional and four-dimensional space.
Not two different spaces but different methods of receptitivity of one
and the same world.

F OUR-DIMENSIONAL space, if we try to imagine it to
ourselves, will be the infinite repetition of our space, of
our infinite three-dimensional sphere, as a line is the in-
finite repetition of a point.
Many things that have been said before will become much clearer
to us when we dwell on the fact that the fourth dimension must be
sought for in time.
It will become clear what is meant by the fact that it is possible
to regard a four-dimensional body as the tracing of the movement
in space of a three-dimensional body in a direction not confined
within that space. Now the direction not confined in three-dimen-
sional space in which any three-dimensional body moves- -this is
the direction of time. Any three-dimensional body, existing, is at
the same time moving in time and leaves as a tracing of its move-
ment the temporal, or four-dimensional body. We never see or
feel this body, because of the limitations of our receptive apparatus,
but we see the section of it only, which section we call the three-di-
mensional body. Therefore we are in error in thinking that the
three-dimensional body is in itself something real. It is the projec.
tion of the four.dimensional body-its picture-the image of it on
our plane.
The four-dimensional body is the infinite number of three-dimen-
sional bodies. That is, the four-dimensional body is the infinite
number of moments of existence of the three-dimensional one-its
states and positions. The three-dimensional body which we see
52

A
LINGA-SHARIRA

appears as a single figure-one of a series of pictures on a cinema-
tographic film as it were.
Four-dimensional space (time) is really the distance between the
forms, states, and positions of one and the same body (and different
bodies, i. e., those seeming different to us). It separates those
states, forms, and positions each from the other, and it binds them
also into some to us incomprehensible whole. This incomprehen-
sible whole can he formed in time out of one physical body-and
out of different hodies.
It is easier for us to imagine the temporal whole as related to
one physical body.
If we consider the physical hody of a man, we shall find in it
besides its "matter" something, it is true, changing, but undoubtedly
one and the same from birth until death.
This something is the Linga-Sharzri of Hindu philosophy, i. e.,
the form on which our physical body is moulded. (H. P. Blavatsky:
The Secret Doctrine.) Eastern philosophy regards the physical
body as something impermanent which is in a condition of perpet-
ual interchange with its surroundings. The particles come and go.
After one second the body is already not absolutely the same as it
was one second before. Today it is in a considerable degree not
that which it was yesterday. After seven years it is a quite different
body. But despite all this, something always persists from hirth to
death, changing its aspect a little, but remaining the same. This
is the Linga-Sharzra_
The Linga-Sharzra is the form, the image: it changes, but remains
the same. That image of a man which we are able to represent
to ourselves is not the Linga-Slutrzra_ But if we try to represent
to ourselves mentally the image of a man from birth to death, with
all the particularities and traits of childhood, manhood and senility,
as if exended in time, when it will be the Linga-Sharira.
Form pertains to all things. We say that everything consists of
matter and form. Under the category of "matter," as already stated,
- the cause of a lengthy series of mixed sensations is predi-
cated, but matter without form is not comprehensible to us; we can-
not even think of matter without form. But we can think and im-
agine form without matter.
The thing, i. e., the union of form and matter, is never constant;

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it always changes in the course of time. This idea afforded Newton
the possibility of building his theory of fluents and fluxions.
Newton came to the conclusion that constant quantities do not
exist in nature. Variables do exist-flowing, fluents only. The
velocities with which different fluents change were called by Newton
fluxions.
From the standpoint of this theory all things known to us-men,
plants, animals, planets-are fluents, and they differ by the magni-
tude of their fluxions. But the thing, changing continuously in time,
sometimes very much, and qUICkly, as in the case of a living body
for example, still remains one and the same. The body of a man in
youth, and the body of a man in senility-these are one and the same,
though we know that in the old body there is not one atom left that
was in the young one. The matter changes, but something remains
one under all changes, this something is the Linga--Sharzra. New-
ton's theory is valid for the three-dimensional world existing in
time. In this world there is nothing constant. All is variable be-
cause every consecutive moment the thing is already not that which
it was before. We never see the Linga-Sharzra, we see always its
parts, and they appear to us variable. But if we observe more
attentively we shall see that it is an illusion. Things of three dimen-
sions are unreal and variable. They cannot be real because
they do not exist in reality, just as the imaginary sections of a solid
do not exist. Four-dimensional bodies alone are real.
In one of the lectures contained in the book, A Pluralistic Uni-
verse, Prof. James calls attention to Prof. Bergson's remark that
science studies always only the t of the universe, i. e., not the uni- ,
verse in its entirety, hut the moment, the "temporal section" of the
universe.

The properties of four-dimensional space will become clearer to
us if we compare in detail three-dimensional space with the surface,
and discover the differences existing between them.
Hinton, in his book, A New Era of Thought, examines these differ-
ences very attentively. He represents to himself, on a plane, two
equal rectangular triangles, cut out of paper, the right angles of
which are placed in opposite directions. These triangles will be

ROTATION IN HIGHER SPACE 55
equal, but for some reason quite different. The right angle of one
is directed to the right, that of the other to the left. If anyone wants
to make them quite similar, it is possible to do so only with the help
of three-dimensional space. That is, it is necessary to take one
triangle, turn it over, and put it back on the plane. Then they will
be two equal, and exactly similar triangles. But in order to effect
this, it was necessary to take one triangle from the plane into three-
dimensional space, and turn it over in that space. If the triangle
is left on the plane, then it will never be possible to make it identical
with the other, keeping the same relation of angles of the one to
those of the other. If the triangle is merely rotated in the plane this
similarity will never be established. In our world there are figures
quite analogous to these two triangles.

We know certain shapes which are equal the one to the other, which are
exaotly similar, and yet which we cannot make fit into the same portion
of space, either practically or by imagination.
If we look at our two hands we see this clearly, though the two hands
represent a complex case of a symmetrical similarity. Now there is one
way in which the right hand and the left hand may practically be brought
into likeness. If we take the right hand glove and the left hand glove,
they will not fit any more than the right hand will coincide with the left
hand; but if we turn one glove inside out, then it will fit. Now suppose
the same thing done with the solid hand as is done with the glove when
it is turned inside out, we must suppose it, so to speak, pulled through it-
self. . . . If such an operation were possible, the right hand would be
turned into an exact model of the left hand. *

But such an operation would be possible in the higher dimen-
sional space only, just as the overturning of the triangle is possible
only in a space relatively higher than the plane. Even granting the
existence of four-dimensional space, it is possible that the turning of
the hand inside out and the pulling of it through itself is a practical
impossibility on account of causes independent of geometrical condi-
tions. But this does not diminish its value as an example. Things
like the turning of the hand inside out are possible theoreticaUy in
four-dimensional space because in this space different, and even
distant points of our space and time touch, or have the possibility
of contact. All points of a sheet of paper lying on a table are sep-
· C. H. Hinton, "A New Era of Thought," p.44.

56 TERTIUM ORGANUM
arated one from another, but by taking the sheet from the table
it is possible to fold it in such a way as to bring together any given
points. If on one corner is written St. Petersburg, and on another
Madras, nothing prevents the putting together of these corners. And
if on the third corner is written the year 1812, and on the fourth
1912, these corners can touch each other too. If on one corner the
year is written in red ink, and the ink has not yet dried, then the
figures may imprint themselves on the other corner. And if after-
wards the sheet is straightened out and laid on the table, it will be
perfectly incomprehensible, to a man who has not followed the
operation, how the figure from one corner could transfer itself to
another corner. For such a man the possibility of the contact of
remote points of the sheet will be incomprehensible, and it will re-
main incomp.rehensible so long as he thinks of the sheet in two.di-
mensional space only. The moment he imagines the sheet in three-
dimensional space this possibility will become real and obvious to
him.
In considering the relation of the fourth dimension to the three
known to us, we must conclude that our geometry is obviously in-
sufficient for the investigation of higher space.
As before stated, a four-dimensional body is as incommensurable
with a three-dimensional one as a year is incommensurable with St.
Petersburg.
It is quite clear why this is so. The four-dimensional body con-
sists of on infinitely great number of three-dimensional bodies; ac.
cordingly, there cannot be a common measure for them. The three-
dimensional body, in comparison with the four-dimensional one is
equivalent to the point in comparison with the line.
And just as the point is incommensurable with the line, so is the
line incommensurable with the surface; as the surface is incommen-
surable with the solid body, so is the three-dimensional body incom-
mensurable with the four-dimensional one.
It is clear also why the geometry of three dimensions is insuffi-
cient for the definition of the position of the region of the fourth
dimension in relation to three-dimensional space.
Just as in the geometry of one dimension, that is, upo
the line,
it is impossible to define the position of the surface, the side of which
constitutes the given line; just as in the geometry of two dimensions,

T HI N KIN GIN 0 THE R CAT EGO R I E S 57
i. e., upon the surface, it is impossible to define the position of the
solid, the side of which constitutes the given surface, so in the geom-
etry of three dimensions, in three-dimensional space, it is impossible
to define a four-dimensional space. Briefly speaking, as planimetry
is insufficient for the investigation of the problems of stereometry,
so is stereometry insufficient for four-dimensional space.
As a conclusion from all of the above we may repeat that every
point of our space is the section of a line in higher space, or as
B. Riemann expressed it: the material atom is the entrance of the
fourth dimension into thre
-dimensional space.

For a nearer approach to the problem of higher dimensions and
of higher space it is necessary first of all to understand the consti-
tution and properties of the higher dimensional region in comparison
with the region of three dimensions. Then only will appear the
possibility of a more exact investigation of this region, and a classi-
fication of the laws governing it.
What is it that it is necessary to understand?
It seems to me that first of all it is necessary to understand that
we are considering not two regions spatially different, and not two
regions of which one (again spatially, "geometrically") constitutes
a part of the other, but two methods of receptivity of one and the
same unique world of a space which is unique.
Furthermore it is necessary to understand that all objects known
to us exist not only in those categories in which they are perceived
by us, but in an infinite number of others in which we do not and
cannot sense them. And we must learn first to think things in other
categories, and then so far as we are able, to imagine them therein.
Only after doing this can we possibly develop the faculty to appre-
hend them in higher space-and to sense "higher" space itself.
Or perhaps the first necessity is the direct perception of every-
thing in the outside world which does not fit into the frame of three
dimensions, which exists independently of the categories of time
and space-everything that for this reason we are a<;customed to
consider as non-existent. If variability is an indication of the
three-dimensional world, then let us se
rch for the constant and

58 TERTIUM ORGANUM
thereby approach to an understanding of the four-dimensional world.
We have become accustomed to count as really existing only that
which is measurable in terms of length, breadth and height; but as
has been shown it is necessary to expand the limits of the really
existing. Mensurability is too rough an indication of existence,
because mensurability itself is too co.nditioned a conception. We
may say that for any approach to the exact investigation of the
higher dimensional region the certainty obtained by the immediate
sensation is probably indispensable; that much that is immeasurable
exists just as really as, and even more really than, much that is
measurable.

OHAPTER VI

Methods of investigation of the problem of higher dimensions. The anal-
ogy between imaginar.y worlds of different dimensions. The one-
dimensional world on a line. "Space" and "time" of a one-dimen-
sional being. The two-dimensional world on a plane. "Space" and
"time," "ether," "matter" and "motion" of a two-dimensional being.
Reality and illusion on a plane. The impossibility of seeing an
"angle." An angle as motion. The incomprehensibility to a two-
dimensional being of the functions of things in our world. Phe-
nomena and noumena of a, two-dimensional being. How could a
plane being comprehend the third dimension?

A SERIES of analogies and comparisons are used for the
definition of that which can be, and that which cannot be,
in the region of the higher dimension.
We imagine "worlds" of one, and of two dimensions, and out of
the relations of lower-dimensional worlds to higher ones we deduce
possible relations of our world to one of four dimensions; just as
out of the relations of points to lines, of lines to surfaces, and of
surfaces to solids we deduce the relations of our solids to four-di-
mensional ones.
Let us try to investigate everything that this method of analogy
can yield.
Let us imagine a world of one dimension.
It will ,be a line. Upon this line let us imagine living beings.
Upon this line, which represents the universe for them, they will
be able to move forward and backward only, and these beings will
be as the points, or segments of a line. Nothing will exist for them
outside their line-and they will not be aware of the line upon
which they are living and moving. For there will exist only two
points, ahead and behind, or may be just one point ahead. Notic-
ing the change in states of these points, the one-dimensional being
will call these changes phenomena. If we suppose the line upon
which the one-dimensional being lives to be passing through the
different objects of our world, then of all these objects the one-di-
59

TERTIUM ORGANUM

mensional being will perceive one point only; if different bodies
intersect his line, the one-dimensional being will sense them only as
the appearance, the more or less prolonged existence, and the disap-
pearance of a point. This appearance, existence, and disappearance
of a point will constitute a phenomenon. Phenomena, according to
the character and properties of passing objects and the velo
ity and
properties of their motions, for the one-dimensional being will be
constant or variable, long or short timed, periodical or unperiodical.
But the one-dimensional being will be absolutely unable to under-
stand or explain the constancy or variability, the duration or brevity,
the periodicity or unperiodicity of the phenomena of his world, and
will regard these simply as properties of such phenomena. The
solids intersecting his line may be different, but for the one-dimen-
sional being all phenomena will be absolutely identical-just the
appearance or the disappearance of a point-and phenomena will
differ only in duration and in greater or less periodicity. ,
Such strange monotony and similarity of the diverse and hetero-
· geneous phenomena of our world will be the chaacteristic peculiarity
of the one-dimensional world.
Moreover, if we assume that the one-dimensional being possesses
memory, it, is clear that recalling all the points seen by him as
phenomena, he will refer them to time. The point which was: this
is the phenomenon already non-existent, and the point which may.
appear tomoITOW: this is the phenomenon which does not exist as
yet. All of our space except one line will be in the category of
time, i. e., something wherefrom phenomena corne and into which
they disappear. And the one-dimensional being will declare that
the idea of time arises for him out of the observation of motion, that
is to say, o
t of the appearance and disappearance of points. These
will be considered as temporal phenomena, beginning at that moment
when they become visible, and ending-ceasing to exist-at that
moment when they become invisible. The one-dimensional being
will not be in a position to imagine that the phenomenon goes on
existing somewhere, though invisibly to him; or he will imagine it
as existing somewhere on his line, far ahead of him.
. . We can imagine this one-dimensional being mote vividly. Let
us take an atom hovering in space, or simply a particle of dust,
carried along by the air, and let us imagine that this atom or par-

THE WORLD OF ONE DIMENSION 61
ticle of dust possesses a consciousness, i. e., separates himself from
the outside world, and is conscious only of that which lies in the
line of his motion, and with which he himself comes in contact. He
will then be a one-dimensional being. in the full sense of the word.
He can fly and move in all directions, but it will always seem to him
that he is moving upon a single line; outside of this line will be for
him only a great N othingness-the whole universe will appear to
him as one line. He will feel none of the turns and angles of his
line, for to feel an angle it is necessary to be conscious of that which
lies to right or left, above or below. In all other respects such a
being will be absolutely identical with the before-described imagin-
ary .being living upon the imaginary line. Everything that he comes
in contact with, that is, everything that he is conscious of, will seem
to him to be emerging from time, i. e., from nothing, vanishing into
time, i. e., into nothing. Th,is nothing will be all our world. All
our world except one line will be called time and will be counted
as actually non-existent.

Let us next consider the two-dimensional worM, and the being
living on a plane. The universe of this being will be one great
plane. Let us imagine beings on this plane having the shape of
.points, lines, and flat geometrical figures. The objects and "solids"
of that world will have the shape of flat geometrical figures too.
In what manner will a being living on such a plane universe cog-
nize his world?
First of all we can affirm that he will not feel the plane upon
twhich he lives. He will not do so because he will feel the objects,
i. e., figures which are on this plane. He will feel the lines which
limit them, and for this reason he will not feel his plane, for in that
case he would not be in a position to. discern the lines. The lines
will differ from the plane in that they produce sensations; therefore
they exist. The plane does not produce sensations; therefore it
does not- exist. Moving on the plane, the two-dimensional being,
feeling no sensations, will declare that nothing now exists. After
having encountered some figure, having sensed its lines, he will say
that something appeared. But gradually, by a process of reasoning,
the two-dimensional being will come to the conclusion that the figures

TERTIUM ORGANUM

he encounters exist on something, o
in something. Thereupon he
may name such a plane (he will not know, indeed, that it is a plane)
the "ether." Accordingly he will declare that the "ether" fills all
space, but differs in its qualities from "matter." By "matter" he
will mean lines. Having come to this conclusion the two-dimen-
sional being will regard all processes as happening in his "ether,"
i. e., in his space. He will not be in a position to imagine anything
outside of this ether, that is, out of his plane. If anything, proceed-
ing out of his plane, comes in contact with his consciousness, then
he will either deny it, or regard it as something subjective, the crea-
tion of .his own imagination; or else he will believe that it is pro-
ceeding right on the plane, in the ether, as are all other phenomena.
Sensing lines only, the plane being will not sense them as we do.
First of aU, he will see no angle. It is extremely easy for us "to
verify this by experiment. If we will hold before our eyes two
matches, inclined one to the other in a horizontal plane, then we
shall see one line. To see the angle we shall have to look from
above. The two-dimensional being cannot look from above and
therefore cannot see the angle. But measuring the distance between
the lines of different "solids" of his world, the two-dimensional be-
ing will come continually in contact with the angle, and he will
regard it as a strange property of the line, which is sometimes man-
ifest and sometimes is not. That is, he will refer the angle to time;
he will regard it as a temporary, evanescent phenomenon, a change
in the state of a "solid," or as motion. It is difficult for us to under-
stand this. It is difficult to imagine how the angle can be regarded
as motion. But it must be absolutely so, and cannot be otherwise.
If we try to represent to ourselves how the plane being studies the
square, then certainly we shan find that for the plane being the
square will be a moving body. Let us imagine that the plane being
is opposite one of the angles of the square. He does not see the
angle-before him is a line, but a line possessing very curious prop-
erties. Approaching this line, the two-dimensional being observes
that a strange thing is happening to the line. One point reniains in
the same position, and other points are withdrawing back from both
sides. We repeat, that the two-dimensio
al being has no idea of
an angle. Apparently the line remains the same as it was, yet some-
thing is happening to it, without a doubt. The plane being 'will say

THE WORLD OF TWO DIMENSIONS 63
that the line is moving, but so rapidly as to be imperceptible to
sight. If the plane being goes away from the angle and follows
along a side of the square, then the side will become immobile.
When he comes to the angle, he will notice the motion again. After
going around the square several times, he will establish the fact of
regular, periodical motions of the line. Quite probably in the mind
of the plane being the square will assume the form of a body possess-
ing the property of periodical motions, invisible to the eye, but pro-
ducing definite physical effects (molecular motion)--or it will re-
main there as a perception of periodical nwments of rest and motion
in one complex line, and still more probably it will seem to be a
rotating body.
Quite possibly the plane being will regard the angle as his own
subjective perception, and will doubt whether any objective reality
corresponds to this subjective perception. Nevertheless he will re-
Hect that if there is action, yielding to measurement, so must there
be the cause of it, consisting in the change of the state of the line,
i. e., in motion.
The lines visible to the plane being he may call matter, and the
angles-nwtion. That is, he may call the broken line with an
angle, moving matter. And truly to him such a line by reason of
its properties will be quite analogous to matter in motion.
If a cube were to rest upon the plane upon which the plane being
lives, then this cube will not exist for the two-dimensional being,
but only the square face of the cube in contact with the plane will
exist for him-as a line, with periodical motions. Correspondingly,
all other solids lying outside of his plane, in contact with it, or
passing through it, will not exist for the plane being. The
planes of contact or cross-sections of these bodies will alone be
sensed. But if these planes or sections move or change, then the
two-dimensional being will think, indeed, that the cause of the change
or motion is in the bodies themselves, i. e., right there on his
plane.
As has been said, the two-dimensional being will regard the
straight lines only as immobile matter; irregular lines and curves
will seem to him as moving. So far as really moving lines are
concerned, that is, lines limiting the cross-sections or planes of con-
tact passing through or moving along the plane, these will be for

TERTIUM ORGANUM

the two.dimensional being something inconceivable and incommen-
surable. It will be as though there were in them the presence of
something independent, depending upon itslf only, animated. This
effect will proceed from two causes: He can measure the immo-
bile angles and curves, the properties of which the two-dimensional
being calls motion, for the reason that they are immobile; moving
figures, on the contrary, he cannot measure, because the changes in
them will be out of his control. These changes will depend upon
the properties of the whole body and its motion, and of that whole
body the two-dimensional being will know only one side or section.
Not perceiving the existence of this body, and contemplating the
motion pertaining to the sides and sections he probably will regard
them as living beings. He will affirm that there is something in
them which differentiates them from other bodies: vital energy, or
even soul. That something will be regarded as inconceivable, and
really will ,be inconceivable to the two-dimensional being, because
to him it is the result of an incomprehensible motion of inconceiv-
able solids.
If we imagine an immobile circle upon the plane, then for the
two-dimensional being it will appear as a moving line with
ome
very strange and to him inconceivable motions.
The two-dimensional being will never see that motion. Perhaps
he will call such motion molecular motion, i. e., the movement of
minutest invisible particles of "matter."
Moreover, a circle rotating around an axis passing through its
center, for the two-dimensional being will differ in some inconceiv-
able way from the immobile circle. Both will appear to be moving,
but moving differently.
For the two-dimensional .being a circle or a square, rotating
around its cehtre, on account of its double motion will be an inex-
plicable and incommensurable phenomenon, like a phenomenon of
life for a modern physicist.
Therefore, for a two-dimensional being, a straight line will be
immobile matter; a broken or a curved line--matter in motion; and
a moving line-living matter.
The centre of a circle or a square will be inaccessible to the
plane being, just as the centre of a sphere or of a cube made of solid
matter is inaccessible to us-and for the two-dimensional being even

PLANE PHENOMENA 65
the idea of a centre will be incomp
ehensible, since he possesses no
idea of a centre.
Having no idea of phenomena proceeding outside of the plane-
that is, out of his "space"-the plane being will think of all phe-
nomena as proceeding on his plane as has been stated. And all
phenomena which he regards as proceeding on his plane, he will
consider as being in causal interdependence one with arwther: that
is, he will think that one phenomenon is the effect of another which
has happened right there, and the cause of a third which will happen
right on the same plane.
If a multi-colored cube passes through the plane, the plane being
will perceive the entire cube and its motion as a change in color of
lines lying in the plane. Thus, if a blue line replaces a red one,
then the plane being will regard the red line as a past event. He
will not be in a position to realize the idea that the red line is still
existing somewhere. He will say that the line is single, but that it
becomes blue as a consequence of certain causes of a physical char-
acter. If the cube moves backward so that the red line appears again
after the blue one, then for the two-dimensional being this will consti-
tute a new phenomenon. He will say that the line became red again.
For the being living on a plane, everything above and below (if
the plane be horizontal), and on the right or left (if the plane be ver-
tical) will be existing in time, in the past and in the future: that
which in reality is located outside of the plane will be regarded as
non-existent, either as that which is already past, i. e., as something
which has disappeared, ceased to be, will never return; or as in the
future, i. e., as not existent, not manifested, as a thing in potentiality.

Let us imagine that a wheel with the spokes painted different
colors is rotating through the plane upon which the plane being
lives. To such a being all the motion of the wheel will appear as
a variation of the color of the line of intersection of the wheel and
the plane. The plane being will call this variation of the color
of the line a phenomenon, and observing these phenomena he will
notice in them a certain succession. He will know that the black
line is followed by the white one, the white by the blue, the blue
by the red, and so on. If simultaneQusly with the appearance of
the white line some other phenomenon occurs-say the ringing of a

66 TERTIUM ORGANUM
bell-the two-dimensional being will say tha.t the white line is the
cause of that ringing. The change of the color of the lines, in the
opinion of the two-dimensional being, will depend on causes lying
right in his plane. Any pre-.supposition of the possibility of the
existence of causes lying outside of the plane he will characterize as
fantastic and entirely unscientific. It will seem so to him because
he will never be in a position to represent the wheel to himself, i. e.,
the parts of the wheel on both sides of the plane. After a rough
study of the color of the lines, .and knowing the order of their se-
quence, the plane being, perceiving one of them, say the blue one,
wiIl think that the black and the white ones have already passed, i. e.,
disappeared, ceased to exist, gone into the past; and that those lines
which have not as yet appeared-the yellow, the green, and so on,
and the new white and black ones still to come-do not yet exist, but
lie in the future.
Therefore, though not conceiving the form of his universe, and
regarding it as infinite in all directions, the plane being will never-
theless involuntarily think of the past as situated somewhere at one
side of all, and of the future as somewhere at the other side of this
totality. In such manner will the plane being conceive of the idea
of time. We see that this idea arises because the two-dimensional
being senses only two out of three dimensions of space; the third
dimension he senses only after its effects become manifest upon the
plane, and therefore he regards it as something different from the
first two dimensions of space, calling it time.

· Now let us imagine that through the plane upon which tlIe two-
dimensional being lives, two wheels with multi-colored spokes are
rotating and are rotating in opposite directions. The spokes of one
wheel come from above and go below; the spokes of the other come
from below and go above.
The plane being will never notice it.
He will never notice that where for one line (which he sees) there
lies the past, for another line there lies the future. This thought
will never even come into his head, because he will conceive of the
past and the future very confusedly, regarding them as concepts,
not as actual facts. But at the same time he will be firmly convinced
that the past goes in one direction, and the future in another. There.

TIME TO A PLANE BEING 67
fore it will seem to him a wild absurdity that on one side something
past and something future can lie together, and on another
ide-
and also beside these two-something future and something past.
To the plane being the idea that some phenomena come whence others
go, and vice versa, will seem equally absurd. He will tenaciously
think that the future is that wherefrom everything comes, and the
past is that whereto everything goes and uherefrom nothing returns.
He will be totally unable to understand that events may arise from
the past just as they do from the future.
Thus we see that the plane being will regard the changes of color
of the lines lying on the plane very naively. The appearance of
different spokes he will regard as the change of color of one and
the smme line, and the repeated appearance of the same colored
spoke he will regard every time as a new appearance of a given
color.
But nevertheless, having noticed periodicity in the change of the
color of the lines upon the surface, having remembered the order
of their appearance, and having learned to define the "time" of the
appearance of certain spokes in relation to some other more con-
stant phenomenon, the plane being will be in a position to foretell
the change of the line from one color to another. Thereupon he
will say that he has studied this phenomenon, that he can apply to
it "the mathematical method"-can "calculate" it.

If we ourselves enter the world of plane beings, then its inhabit-
ants will sense the lines limiting the sections of our bodies. These
sections will be for them living beings; they will not know from
whence they appear, why they alter, or whither they disappear in
such a miraculous manner. So also, the sections of all our inan-
imate but moving objects will seem independent living beings.
If the consciousness of a plane being should suspect our exist-
ence, and should come into some sort of communion with our con-
sciousness, then to him we would appear as higher, omniscient,
possibly omnipotent, but above all incomprehensible beings of a
quite inconceivable category.
We could see his world just as it is, and not as it seems to him.
We could see the past and the future; could foretell, direct, and even
create events.

....

TERTIUM ORGANUM

We could know the very substance of things-could know what
"mat
er" (the straight line) is, what "motion" (the broken line,
the curve, the angle) is. We could see an angle, and we could see
a centre. All this would give us an enormous advantage over
the two-dimensional being.
In all the phenomena of the world of the two-dimensional being
we could see considerably more than he sees--or could see quite
other things than he.
And we could tell him very much that was new, amazing, and
unexpected about the phenomena of his world, provided indeed
that he could hear us and understand us.
First of all we could tell him that what he regards as phenomena
-angles and curves, for instance-are properties of higher figures;
that other "phenomena" of his world are not phenomena, but only
"parts" or "sections" _ of phenomena; that what he calls "solids"
are only sections of solids-and many things besides.
We would be able to tell him that on both sides of his plane
(i. e., of his space or ether) lies infinite space ('which the plane
being calls time); and that in this space lie the causes of all his
phenomena, and the phenomena themselves, the past as well as the
future ones; moreover, we might add that "phenomena" them-
selves are not something happening and then ceasing to be, but
combinations of properties of higher solids.
But we should experience considerable difficulty in explaining
anything to the plane being; and it would be very difficult for him
to understand us. First of all it would be difficult because he would
not have the concepts corresponding to our concepts. He would
lack "necessary words."
For instance, "section"-this would be for him a quite new
and inconceivable word; then "angle"-again an inconceivable
word; "centre"--still more inconceivable; the third perpendicular
-something incomprehensible, lying outside of his geometry.
The fallacy of his conception of time would be the most difficult
thing for the plane being to understand. He could never under-
stand that that which has passed and that which is to be are ex-
isting simultaneously on the lines perpendicular to his plane. And
he could never conceive the idea that the past is identical with the
future, because phenomena come from both sides and go in both
directions.

PARMENIDES ON THE ONE 69
But the most difficult thing for the plane being would be to
conceive the idea that "time" includes in itself two ideas: the idea
of space, and the idea of motion upon this space.
We have shown that what the two-dimensional being living on
the plane calls motion has for us a quite different aspect.
In his book The Fourth Dimension, under the heading "The
First Chapter in the History of Four-space," Hinton writes:

Parmenides, and the Asiatic thinkers with whom he is in close affinity,
propound a theory of existence which is in close accord with a conception
of a possible relation between a higher and lower dimensional space. . . .
It is one which in all ages has had a strong attraction for pure intellect,
and is the natural mode of thought for those who refrain from projecting
their own volition into nature under the guise of causality.
According to Parmenides of the school of Elea the all is one, unmoving
and unchanging. The permanent amid the transient-that foothold for
thought, that solid ground for feeling, on the discovery of which depends
all our life--is no phantom; it is the image amidst deception of true being,
the eternal, the unmoved, the one. Thus says Parmenides.
But how is it possible to explain the shifting scene, these mutations of
things?
"Illusion," answers Parmenides. Distinguishing between truth and error,
he tells of the true doctrine of the one--the false opinion of a changing
world. He is no less memorable for the manner of his advocacy than for
the caUse he advocates.
Can the mind conceive a more delightful intellectual picture than that
of Parmenides pointing to the one, the true, the unchanging, and yet on the
other hand ready to discuss all manner of false opinion! . . .
In support of the true opinion he proceeded by the negative way of show.
ing the self-contradictions in the ideas of change and motion. . . . To ex-
press his doctrine in the ponderous modem way we must make. the state-
ment that motion is phenomenal, not real.
Let us represent his doctrine.
Imagine a sheet of still water into which a slanting stick is being lowered
with a motion vertically downward. Let 1,2,3. (Fig. 1) be three consecu-
tive positions of the stick. A, B, C will be three connective positions of
the meeting of the stick with, the surface of the water. As the stick passes
down, the meeting will move from A on to Band C.
Suppose now all the water to be removed except a film. At the meet-
ing of the film and the stick there will be an interruption of the film. If
we suppose the film to have a property, like that of a soap bubble, of closing
up round any penetrating object, then as the stick goes vertically down-
ward the interruption in the film will move on. If we pass a spiral through
the film the intersection will give a point moving in a circle (shown by the
dotted lines in Fig. 2).

70 TERTIUM ORGANUM
For the plane being such a point, moving in a circle in its plane, would
probably constitute a cosmical phenomenon, something like the motion of
a planet in its orbit.
Suppose now the spiral to be still and the film to move vertically up.
ward, the whole spiral will be represented in the film in the consecutive
positions of the point of intersection.
,

FIG. I

FIG. II

If instead of one spiral we take a complicated construction consisting of
epirnls, inclined and straight lines, broken and curved lines, and if the
film move vertically upward we shall have an entire universe of moving.
points the movements of which will appear to the plane being as original.
The plane being will explain these movements as depending one upon
another, and indeed he will never happen to think that these movements
are fictitious and are dependent upon the spirals and other lines lying
outside his space. *
Returning to the plane being and his perception of the world,
and analyzing his relations to the three-dimensional world, we see
that for the two-dimensional or plane being it will be very diffi-
cult to understand all the complexity of the phenomena of our
world, as it appears to us. He (the plane being) is accustomed to
perceive the world as being too simple.
Taking into consideration the sections of figures instead of the
figures themselves, the plane being will compare them in relation
to their length and their greater or lesser curvature, i. e., their fOT
him more or less rapid motion.
The differences between the Objects of our world, as they exist
for us he would not understand. The functions of the objects of
our world would be completely mysterious to his mind-incom-
prehensible, "supernatural."
· C. H. Hinton, "The Fourth Dimeneion," pp. 23, 24 and 25.

THE GULF BETWEEN 71
Let us imagine that a coin, and a candle the diameter of which
is equal to that of the coin, are on the plane upon which the two-
dimensional being lives. To the plane being they will seem two
equal circles, i. e., two moving, and absolulelr identical lines; he
will never discover any difference between them. The functions of
the coin and of the candle in our world-these are for him abso-
lutely a terra incognita. If we try to imagine what an enormous
evolution the plane being must pass through in order to understand
the function of the coin and of the candle and the difference be-
tween these functions, we shall understand the nature of the division
between the plane world and the world of three dimensions, and the
complete impossibility of even imagining, on the plane, anything at
all like the three-dimensional world, with its manifoldness of func-
tion.
The properties of the phenomena of the plane world will be
extremely monotonous; they will differ by the order of their ap-
pearance, their duration, and their periodicity. Solids, and the
things of this world will be flat and uniform, like shadows, i. e., like
the shadows of quite different solids, which seem to us uniform.
Even if the plane .being could come in contact with our conscious-
ness, he would never be in a position to understand all the mani-
foldness and richness the phenomena of our world and the variety
of function of the things of that world.
Plane beings would not be in a position to master our most ordi-
nary concepts.
It would be extremely difficult for them to understand that phe-
nomena, identical for them, are in reality different; and on the
other hand, that phenomena quite separate for them are in reality
parts of one great phenomenon, and even of one object or one be-
ing.
This last will be one of the most difficult things for the plane
being to understand. If we imagine our plane being to be inhabit-
ing a horizontal plane, intersecting the top of a tree, and parallel
to the surface of the earth, then for such a being each of the vari-
ous sections of the branches will appear as a quite separate phe-
nomenon or obj'ect. The idea of the tree and its branches will
never occur to him.
Generally speaking, the understanding of the most fundamental
and simple things of our world will be infinitely long and difficult

72 TERTIUM ORGANUM
to the plane being. He would have to entirely reconstruct his
concepts of space and ifime. This would be the first step. Unless
it is taken, nothing is accomplished. Until the plane being shall
imagine all our universe as existing in time, i. e., until he refers to
time everything lying on both sides of his plane, he will never
understand anything. In order to begin to understand "the third
dimension" the inhabitant of the plane must conceive of his time
concepts spatially, that is, translate his time into space.
To achieve even the spark of a true understanding of our world
he will have to reconstruct completely all his ideas-to revaluate all
values, to revise all concepts, to dissever the uniting concepts, to
unite those which are dissevered; and, what is most important, to
create an infinite number of new ones.
If we put down the five fingers of one hand on the plane of the
two-dimensional being they will be for him five separate phe.
nomena.
Let us try to imagine what an enormous mental evolution he
would have to undergo in order to understand that these five sep.
arate phenomena on his plane are the finger-tips of the hand of a
large, active and intelligent being-man.
To make out, step by step, how the plane being would attain
to an understanding of our world, lying in the region of the to him
mysterious third dimension-i. e., partly in the past, partly in the
future-would be interesting in the highest degree. First of all,
in order to understand the world of three dimensions, he must
cease to be two-dimensional-he must become three-dimensional
himself, or in other words he must feel an interest in the life of
three-dimensional space. After having felt the interest of this
life, he will by so doing transcend his plane, and will never be in a
position thereafter to return to it. Entering more and more within
the circle of ideas and concepts which were entirely incomprehen.
sible to him before, he will have already become, not two-dimen.
sional, but three-dimensional. But all along the plane being will
have been essentially three-dimensional, that is, he will have had
the third dimension, without his being conscious of it himself. To
become three-dimensional he must be three-dimensional. Then as
the end of ends he can address himself to the self.liberation from the
illusion of the two-dimensionality of himself and the world, and to
the apprehension of the three-dimensional world.

CHAPTER VII

The impossibility of the mathematical definition of dimensions. Why does
not mathematics sense dimensions? The entire conditionality of
the representation of dimensions by powers. The possibility of
representing all powers on a line. Kant and Lobachevsky. The
difference between non-Euclidian geometry and metageometry.
Where shall we find the explanation of the three-dimensionality of
the world, if Kant's ideas are true? Are not the conditions of the
three-dimensionality of the world confined to our receptive appa-
ratus, to our psyche?

N ow that we have studied those "relations which our space
itself hears within it" we shall return to the questions:
But what in reality do the dimensions of space represenA
-and why are there three of them?
The fact that it is impossible to define three-dimensionality math-
ematically must appear most strange.
We are little conscious of this, and it seems to us a paradox,
because we speak of the dimensions of space, but it remains a fact
that mathematics does not sense the dimensions of space.
The question arises, .how can such a fine instrument of analysis
as mathematics not feel dimensions, if they represent some real
properties of space?
Speaking of mathematics, it is necessary to recognize first of all,
as a fundamental premise, that correspondent to each mathematical
expression is always the relation of some realities.
If there is no such a thing, if it be not true-then there is no
mathematics. This is its principal substance, its principal con-
tents. To express the correlations of magnitudes is the problem
of mathematics. But these correlations must be between something.
Instead of algebraical a, band c it must be possible to substitute
some reality. This is the ABC of all mathematics; a, band c
are credit biIIs; they can be good ones only if behind them there is a
real something, and they can be counterfeited if behind. them there
is no reality whatever.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

"Dimensions" play here a very strange role. If we designate
them by the algebraic symbols a, band c, they have the character
of counterfeit credit bills. For this a, band c it is impossible to
substitute any real magnitudes which are capable of expressing the
correlations of dimensions.
Usually dimensions are represented by powers: the first, the
second, the third; that is, if a line is called a, then a square, the
sides of which are equal to this line, is called a 2 , and a cube, the
face of which is equal to this square, is called a 8 .
This among other things gave Hinton the foundation on which
he constructed his theory of tesseracts, four-dimensional solids-a 4 .
But this is pure fantasy. First of all, because the representation
of "dimensions" by powers is entirely conditional. It is possible
to represent all powers on a line. For example, take the segment of
a line equal to five millimetres; then a segment equal to twenty-
five millimetres will be the square of it, i. e., a 2 and a segment of
one hundred and twenty-five millimetres will be the cube-a 8 .
How shall we understand that mathematics does not feel dimen-
sions-that it is impossible to express mathematically the difference
between dimensions?
It is possible to understand and explain it by one thing only-
namely, that this difference does not exist.
We really know that all three dimensions are in substance iden-
tical, that it is possible to regard each of the three dimensions
either as following the sequence, the first, the second, the third, or
the other way about. This alone proves that dimensions are not
mathematical magnitudes. All the real properties of a thing can
be expressed mathematically as quantities, i. e., numbers, showing
the relation of these properties to other properties.
But in the matter of dimensions it is as if mathematics sees
more than we do, or farther than we do, through some boundaries
which arrest us but not it-and sees that no realities whatever co,r-
respond to our concepts of dimensions.
If the three dimensions really corresponded to three powers, then
we should have the right to say thail: only these three powers refer
to geometry, and that all the other higher powers, beginning with
the fourth, lie beyond geometry.

NON -EUCLIDIAN GEOMETR Y 75
But even this is denied us. The representation of dimensions by
powers is perfectly arbitrary.
More accurately, geometry, from the standpoint of mathematics,
is an artificial system for the solving of problems based on con-
ditional data, deduced, probably, from the properties of our psy-
che.
The system of investigation of "higher space" Hinton calls meta-
geometry, and with metageometry he connects the names of to-
bachevsky, Gauss, and other investigators of non-Euclidian geometry.
We shall now consider in what relation the questions touched
upon by us stand to the theories of these scientists.
Hinton deduces his ideas from Kant and Lobachevsky.
Others, on the contrary, place Kant's ideas in opposition to those
of Lobachevsky. Thus Roberto Bonola, in Non-Euclidian Geome-
try, declares that Ldbachevsky's conception of space is contrary to
that of Kant. He says:

The Kantian doctrine considered space as a subjective intuition, a
necessary presupposition of every experience. Lobachevsky's doctrine was
rather allied to sensualism and the current empiricism, and compelled ge-
ometry to take its place again among the experienced sciences. *

Which of these views is true, and in whoat relation do Lobachev-
sky's ideas stand to our problem? The correct answer to this ques-
tion is: in no relation. Non-Euclidian geometry is not metageom-
etry, and non-Euclidian geometry stands in the same relation to
metageometry as Euclidian geometry itself.
The results of non-Euclidian geometry, which have submitted
the fundamental axioms of Euclid to a revaluation, and which
have found the most complete expression in the works of Bolyai,
Gauss, and Lobachevsky, are embraced in the formula:
IThe axioms of a given geometry express the properties of a given
space.
Thus geometry on the plane accepts all three Euclidian axioms,
i. e.:
I. A straight line is the shortest distance between two points.
· Roberto Bonola, "Non-Euclidian Geometry." The Open Court Publishing Co.,
Chicago, 1912, pp. 92, 93.

76 TERTIUM ORGANUM
2. Any figure may be transferred into another position without
changing its properties.
3. Parallel lines do not meet.
(This last axiom is fonnulated differently by Euclid.)
In geometry on a sphere, or on a concave surf ace the first two
axioms alone are true, because the meridians which are separated
at the equator meet at the poles.
In geometry on the surface of irregular curvatures only the first
axiom is true-the second, regarding the transference of figures, is
impossible because the figure taken in one part of an irregular sur-
face can change when transferred into another place. Also, the sum
of the angles of a triangle can be either more or less than two right
angles.
Therefore, axioms express the difference of properties of various
kinds of surfaces.
A geometrical axiom is a law of given surface.
But what is a surface?
Lobachevsky's merit consists in that he found it necessary to revise
the fundamental concepts of geometry. But he never went so far
as to revalue these concepts from Kant's standpoint. At the same
time he is in no sense contradictory to Kant. A surface in the
mind of Lobachevsky, as a geometrican, was only a means for the
generali7Jation of certain properties on which this or that geometrical
system was constructed, or the generalization of the properties of
certain given lines. About the reality or the unreality of a surface,
he probably never thought.
Thus on the one hand, Bonola, who ascribed to Lobachevsky views
opposite to Kant, and their nearness to "sensualism" and "current
empiricism," is quite wrong, while on the other hand, it is not im-
possible to conceive that Hinton entirely subjectively ascribes to
Gauss and Lobachevsky their inauguration of a new era in
philosophy.
Non-Euclidian geometry, including that of Lobachevsky, has no
relation to metageometry whatever.
Lobachevsky does not go outside of the three-dimensional sphere.
Metageometry regards the three-dimensional sphere ItS a section
of higher space. Among mathematicians, Riemann, who under-
stood the relation of time to space, was nearest of aU to this jdea.

METAGEOMETRY

The point, of three-dimensional space, is a section of a meta-
geometrical line. It is impossible to generalize on any surface
whatever 1he lines considered in metageometry. Perhaps this last
is the most important for the definition of the difference between
geometries (Euclidian and non-Euclidian and metageometry) .
It is impossible to rep;ard metap;eometricallines as distances between
points in our space, and it is impossible to represent them as form-
ing any figures in our space_
The consideration of the possible properties of lines lying out
of our space, the relation of these lines and their angles to the
lines, angles, surfaces and solids of our geometry, forms the sub-
ject of metageometry.
The investigators of non-Euolidian geometry could not bring
themselves to reject the consideration of surfaces. There is some-
thing almost tragic in this. See what surfaces Beltrami invented
in his investigations of non-Euclidian geometry-one of his surfaces
resembles the surface of a ventilator, another, the inner surface of
a funnel. But he could not decide to reject the surf ace, to cast
it aside once and for all, to imagine that the line elM be independent
of the surface, i. e., a series of lines which are parallel or nearly par-
allel cannot be generalized on any surface, or even in three-
dimensional space.
And because of this, both he and many other geometers, de-
veloping non-Euclidian geometry, could not transcend the three-
dimensional world.
Mechanics recognizes the line in time, i. e., such a line as it is im-
possible by any means to imagine upon the surface, or as the dis-
tance between two points of space. This line is taken into
consideration in the calculations pertaining to machines. But
geometry never touched this line, and dealt always with its sections
only.

Now it is possible to return to the question: what is space? and
to discover if the answer to this question has been found.
The answer would be the exact definition and explanation of the
three-dimensionality of space as a property of the world.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

But this is not the answer. The three-dill'Wnsionality of space as
an objective phenomenon remains just as enigmatical and incon-
ceivable as before. In relation to three-dimensionality it is neces-
sary:
Either to accept it as a thing given, and to add this to the two
data which we established in the beginning.
Or to recognize the fallacy of all objective methods of reason-
ing, and return to another method, outlined in the beginning of
the book.
Then, on the basis of the two fundamental data, the world and
consciousness, it is necessary to establish whether three-dimen-
sional space is a property of the world, or a property of our knowl-
edge of the world.
Beginning with Kant, who affirms that space is a property of
the receptivity of the world by our consciousness, I intentionally
deviated far from this idea and regarded space as a property of the
world.
Along with Hinton, I postulated that our space itself bears within
it the relations which permit us to establish its relations to higher
space, and on the foundation of this postulate I built a whole series
of analogies which somewhat clarified for us the problems of space
and time and their mutual co-relations, but which, as was said,
did not explain anything concerning the principal question of the
causes of the three-dimensionality of space.
The method of analogies is, generally speaking, a rather tor-
menting thing. With it, you walk in a vicious circle. It helps you
to elucidate certain things, and the relations of certain things, but
in substance it never gives a direct answer to anything. After
many and long attempts to analyze complex problems by the aid
of the method of analogies, you feel the uselessness of all your
efforts; you feel that you are walking alongside of a wall. There.
upon you begin to experience simply a hatred and aversion for
analogies, and you find it necessary to search in the direct way
which leads where you need to go.
The problem of higher dimensions has usually been analyzed
by the method of analogies, and only very lately has science begun
to elaborate that direct method which will be shown later on.
If we desire to go strait;ht, without deviating, we shall keep

THE DIRECT METHOD 79
strictly up to the fundamental propositions of Kant. But if we
fonnulate Hinton's above.mentioned thought from the point of
view of these propositions, it will be as follows: We bear within
ourselves the conditions of our space, and therefore within ourselves
we shall find the conditions which will pe1'mit us to establish cor..:
relations between OUT space and higher space.
In other words, we shall find the conditions of the three-dimen-
sionality of the world in our psyche, in our receptive apparatus-
and shall find exactly there the conditions of the possibility of th

higher dimensional world.
Propounding the problem in this way, we put ourselves upon
the direct path, and we shall receive an answer to our question,
what is space and its three-dimensionality?
How may we approach the solution of this problem?
Plainly, by studying our consciousness and its properties.
'VIe shall free ourselves from all analogies, and shall enter upon
the correct and direct path toward the solution of the fundamental
question about the objectivity or subjectivity of space, if we shall
decide to study the psychical fonns by which we perceive the world,
and to discover if there does not exist a correspondence between
them and the three-dimensionality of the world-that is, if the three-
dimensional extension of space, with its properties, does not result
from properties of the psyche which are known to us.

CHAPTER VIII

Our receptive apparatus. Sensation. Perception. Conception. Intuition.
Art as the language of the future. To what extent does the three-
dimensionality of the world depend upon the properties of our
receptive apparatus? What might prove this interdependence?
Where may we find the real affirmation of this interdependence?
The animal psyche. Jin what does it differ from the human? Re-
flex action. The irritability of the cell. Instinct. Pleasure-pain.
Emotional thinking. The absence of concepts. Language of an-
imals. Logic of animals. Different degrees of psychic development
in animals. The goose, the cat, the dog and the monkey.

I N order exactly to define the relation of our psyche to the
external world, and to determine what, in our receptivity of
the world, belongs to it, and what belongs to oUl"lSelves, let
us turn to elementary psychology and examine the mechanism of
our receptive apparatus.
The fundamental unit of our receptivity is a sensation. This
sensation is an elementary change in the state of our psyche, pro-
duced, as it se,ems to us, either by some change in the state of the
external world in relation to our consciousness, or by a change
in the state of our psyche in relation to the external world. Such
is the teaching of physics and psycho-physics. Into the consider-
ation of the correctness or incorrectness of the construction of these
sciences I shall not enter. Suffice it to define a sensation as an
elementary change in the state of the psyche-as the element, that
is, as the fundamental unit of this change. Feeling the sensation
we assume that it 'appears, so to speak, as the reflection of some
change in the external world.
The sensations felt by us leave a certain trace in our memory.
The accumulating memories of sensations begin to blend in con-
sciousness into groups, and according to their similitude tend to asso-
{:iate, to sum up, to be opposed; the sensations which are usually
felt in close connection with one another will arise in memory in the
same connection. Gradually, out of the memories of sensa.
so

S ENS A T ION S : PER C E P T ION S 81
tions, perceptions are compounded. Perceptions-these are so to
speak the group memories of sensations. During the compound.
ing of perceptions, sensations are polarizing in two clearly defined
directions. The first direction of this grouping will be according
to the character of sensations. (The sensations of a yellow color
will combine with the sensations of a yellow color; sensations of a
sour taste with those of a sour taste.) The second direction will
be according to the time of the reception of sensations. When
various sensations, constituting a single group, and compounding one
perception, enter eimultaneously, Ithen the memory of this definite
group of sensations is ascribed to a common cause. This "common
cause" is projected into the outside world as the object, and it is
assumed that the given perception itself reflects the real properties
of this object. Such group remembrance constitutes perception,
the perception, for example, of a tree--that tree. Into this group
enter the green color of the leaves, their smell, their shadows,
their rustle in the wind, etc. All these things taken together form
as it were a focus of rays coming out of the psyche, gradually
concentrated upon the outside object and coinciding with it either
well or ill.
In the further complication of the psychic life, the memories
of perception proceed as with the memories of sensations. Min-
gling together, the memories of perceptions, or the "images of
perceptions," combine in various ways: they sum up, they stand
opposed, they form groups, and in the end give rise to concepts.
Thus out of various sensations, experienced (in groups) at
different times, a child gets the perception of a tree (that tree),
and afterwards, out of the images of perceptions of different
trees there emerges the concept of a tree, i. e., not "that tree,"
but trees in general.

The formation of perceptions leads to the formation of words,
and the appearance of speech.
The beginning of speech may appear on the lowest level of
psychic life, during the period of living by sensations, and it
will become more complex during the period of living by per-

TERTIUM ORGANUM

ceptions; but unless there be concepts it will not be speech in
the true meaning of the word.
On the lower levels of psychic life certain sensations can be
expressed by certain sounds. Therefore it is possible to express
common impressions of horror, anger, pleasure. These sounds
may serve as signals of danger, as commands, demands, threats,
etc., but it is impossible to say much by means of them.
In the further development of speech, if words or sounds express
perceptions, as in the case of children, this means that the given
sound or the given word designates only that object to which it refers.
For each new similar object must exist another new sound, or a
new word. If the speaker designates different objects by one and
the same sound or word, it means that in his opinion the objects are
the same, or that knowingly he is calling different objects by the same
name. In either case it will be difficult to understand him, and such
speech cannot serve as an example of clear speech. For instance,
if a child call a tree by a certain sound or word, having in view
that tree only, and not knowing other trees at all, then any new tree
which he may see he will call by a new word, or else he will take it
for the same tree. The speech in which "words" correspond to per-
ceptions is as it were made up of proper nouns. There are no
appellative nouns; and not only substantives, but verbs, adjectives
and adverbs have the character of "proper nouns"-that is, they
apply to a given action, to a given quality, or to a given property.
The appearance of words of a common meaning in human speech
signifies the appearance of concepts in consciousness.
Speech consists of words, each word expressing a concept. Con-
cept and word are in substance one and the same thing; only the
first (the concept) represents, so to speak, the inner side, and the
second (the word) the outer side. Or, as says Dr. R. M. Bucke
(the author of the book Cosmic Consciousness, about which I
shall have much to say later on), "A word (i. e., concept) is the
algebraical sign of a thing."

It has been noticed thousands of times that the brain of a thinking man
does not exceed in size the brain of a non-thinking wild man in anything
like the proportion in which the mind of the thinker exceeds the mind
of the savage. The reason is that the brain of a Herbert Spencer has
very little more work to do than has the brain of a native Australian, for

CONCEPTS

this reason, that Spencer does all his characteristic mental work by signs
or counters which stand for concepts, while the savage does all or nearly
all his by means of cumbersome recepts. The savage is in a position
comparable to that of the astronomer who makes his calculations by
arithmetic, while Spencer is in the position of one who makes them by
algebra. The first will fill many great sheets of paper with figures and go
through immense labor; the other will make the same calculations on an
envelope and with comparatively little mental work.*

In our speech words express concepts or ideas. By ideas are
meant broader concepts, not representing the group sign of similar
perceptions, but embracing various groups of perceptions, or even
groups of concepts. Therefore an idea is a complex or an abstract
concept.
In addition to the simple sensations of these sense organs (color,
sound, touch, smell and taste), in addition to the simple emotions
of pleasure, pain, joy, anger, surprise, wonder, curiosity and many
others, there is passing through our consciousness a series of com-
plex sensations and higher (complex) emotions (moral, esthetic,
religious). The content of emotional feelings, even the simplest-
to say nothing of the complex-can never be wholly confined to
concepts or ideas, and therefore can never be correctly or exactly ex-
pressed in words. Words can only allude to it, point to it. The
interpretation of emotional feelings and emotional understanding
is the problem of art. In combinations of words, in their mean-
ing, their rhythm, their music--the combination of meaning, rhythm
and music; in sounds, colors, lines, forms-men are creating a new
world, and are attempting therein to express and transmit that which
they feel, but which they are unable to express and transmit
'Simply in words, i. e., in concepts. The emotional tones of life, i. e.,
of "feelings," are best transmitted by music, but it cannot express
concepts, i. e., thought. Poetry endeavors to express both music and
thought together. The combination of feeling and thought of high
tension leads to a higher form of psychic life. Thus in art we have
already the first experiments in a language of the future. Art antici-
pates a psychic evolution and divines its future forms.
At the present time an average man, taken as a norm, has attained
to three units of psychic life: sensation, perception, and conception.
Furthermore, observation reveals the fact that some people at certain
· R. M. Bucke. "Cosmic Consc\ousnese," p. ]2.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

times acquire a new, fourth unit of psychic life, which different
authors and different schools name differently, but in which an
element of knowledge or ideas is always united with an emotional
element.
If Kant's ideas are correct, if space with its characteristics is a
property of our consciousness, and not of the external world, then
the three-dimensionality of the world must in this or some other
manner depend upon the constitution of our psychic apparatus.
It is possible to put the question concretely in the following
manner: What bearing upon the three-dimensional extension of
the world has the fact that in our psychical apparatus we discover
the categories above described-sensations, perceptions and con-
cepts?
We possess such a psychical apparatus and the world is three-
dimensional. How is it possible to establish the fact that the
three-dimensionality of the world depends upon such a constitu-
tion of our psychical apparatus?
This could be proven or disproven undeniably only with the
aid of experiments.
IT we could change our psychic apparatus and should then dis.
cover that the world around us was changing, this would constitute
for us the proof of the dependence of the properties of space upon
the properties of our consciousness.
For example if we could make the above-mentioned higher form
of psychic life (which appears now accidentally as it were and
depends upon insufficiently studied conditions) just as definite,
exact, and subject to our will as is the concept; and if the number of
characteristics of space increased, i. e., if space became four-dimen-
sional instead of being three-.dimensional, this would affirm our
presupposition, and would prove Kant's contention that space with
its properties is a form of our sensuous receptivity.
Or if we could diminish the number of units of our psychic life,
and deprive ourselves or someone else of conceptions, leaving the
psyche to act by perceptions and sensations only; and if by so
doing the number of characteristics of the space surrounding us
diminished; i. e., if for the person subjected to the test the world
be
ame two-dimensional instead of three-dimensional, and indeed

SPACE AND THE PSYCHE 85
one-dimensional as a result of a still greater limitation of the
psychic apparatus, by depriving the person of perceptions-this
would affirm our presupposition, and Kant's idea could be consid-
ered proven.
That is to say, Kant's idea would be proven experimentally if we
could be convinced that for the being possessing sensations only,
the world is one-dimensional; for the being possessing sensations
and perceptions the world is two-dimensional; and for the being
possessing, in addition to concepts and ideas, the higher forms of
knowledge the world is four-dimensional.
Or, more exactly, Kant's thesis in regard to the subjectivity
of space-perception could be regarded as proven (a) if for the
being possessing sensations only, our entire world with all its
variety of forms should seem a single line; if the universe of this
being should possess but one dimension, i. e., should this being be
one-dimensional in the properties of its receptivity; and (b) if for
the being possessing, in addition to the faculity of feeling sensa-
tions, the faculty of forming perceptions, the world should have
a two-dimensional extension; if all our world with its blue sky,
clouds, green trees, mountains and precipices, should seem to him
one plane; if the universe of this being should have only two
dimensions, i. e., if this .being were two-dimensional in the
properties of its receptivity.
More briefly, Kant's thesis would be proven could we be made to
see that for the conscious being the number of characteristics of the
world changes in accordance with the changes of its psychic appa-
ratus.
To perform such an experiment, effecting the diminution of
psychic characteristics is not possible under ordinary conditions
-we cannot arbitrarily limit our own, or anyone else's psychic
apparatus.
Experiments with the augmentation of psychic chamcteristics
have been made and are recorded, but in consequence of many
diverse causes they are insufficiently convincing. The chief
reason for this is that the augmentation of psychic faculties
yields, first of all, so much of newness in the psychic realm that
this newness obscures the changes proceeding simultaneously in the

TERTIUM ORGANUM

previous perception of the world; one feels the new, but is not cap-
able of defining the difference exactly.
The entire body of teachings of religio-phHosophic movements
have as their avowed or hidden purpose, the expansion of con-
sciousness. This also is the aim of mysticism of every age and of
every faith, the aim of occultism, and of the Oriental yoga. But
the question of the expansion of consciousness demands special
study; the final chapters of this book will be dedicated to it.
For the present, in proof of the above stated propositions with
regard to the change of the world in relation to psychic changes,
it is sufficient to consider the assumption concerning the possibility
of a smaller number of psychic characteristics.
If experiments in this direction are impossible, perhaps observa-
tion may furnish what we seek.
Let us put the question: Are there not beings in the world
standing toward us in the necessary relation, whose psyche is of a
lower grade than ours?
Such psychically inferior beings undoubtedly exist. These
are animals.
Of the difference between the psychical nature of an animal
and of a man we know very little: the usual "conversational"
psychology deals with it not at all. Usually we deny altogether
that animals have minds, or else we ascribe to them our own psy-
chology, but "limited"-though how and in what we do not
know. Again, we say that animals do not possess reason, but
are governed by instinct. As to what exactly we mean by instinct
we 00 not ourselves know. I am speaking not alone of popular,
but so-called "scientific" psychology.
Let us try to discover what instinct is, and learn something
about animal psychology. First of all let us analyze the actions of
animals, and see wherein they differ from ours. If these actions
are instinctive, what inference is to be drawn from the fact?
What are those actions in general, and how do they differ?
In the actions of living beings within the limits of Qur usual ob-
servation we discriminate between those which are reflex, instinc.
tive, rational and automatic.
Reflex actions are simply responses by motion, reactions upon
external irritations, taking place always in the same way, regard-

IRRIT ABILITY OF CELLS 87
less of their utility or futility, expediency or inexpediency in any
given case. Their origin and laws are due to the simple irritability
of a cell.
What is the irritability of a cell, and what are these laws?
The irritability of a cell is defined as its faculty to respond Ito
external irritation by a motion. Experiments with the simplest
mono-cellular organisms. have shown that this irritability acts accord-
ing to definite laws. The cell responds by a motion to outside
irritation. The force of the responsive motion increases as the
force of the irritation is intensified, but in no definite proportion-
ality. fu order to provoke the responsive movement the irritation
must be of a sufficient intensity. Each experienced irritation leaves
a certain trace in the cell, making it more receptive to the new
irritations. In this we see that the cell responds to the repetitive
irritation of an equal force by a more forceful motion than the first
one. And if the irritations be repeated further the cell will respond
to them by more and more forceful motions, up to a certain limit.
Having reached this limit the cell experiences fatigue, and responds
to the same irritation by more and more feeble reactions. It is as
if the cell becomes accustomed to the irritation. It !becomes for the
cell part of a constant environment, and it ceases to react, because
it is reacting generally only to clutnges in conditions which are con-
stant. If from the very beginning the irritation is so weak that it
fails to provoke the responsive motion, it nevertheless leaves in the
cell a certain invisible trace. This can be inferred from the fact
that by repeating these weak irritations, the cell finally begins to
react to them.
Thus in the laws of irritability we observe, as it were, the begin-
nings of memory, fatigue, and habit. The cell produces the illu-
sion, if not of a conscious and reasoning heing, at any rate of a
remembering being, habit-forming, and susceptible to fatigue. H
we can be thus deceived by a cell, how much more liable are we to
be deceived by the greater complexity of animal life.
But let us return to the analysis of actions. By the reflex ac-
tions of an organism are meant actions in which either an entire
organism or its separate parts acts as a cell, i. e., within the limits
of the law of variability. We observe such actions both in men
and in animals. A man shudders all over from unexpected cold, or

TERTIUM ORGANUM

from a touch. His eyelids wink at the swift approach or touch of
some object. The freely-hanging foot of a person in a sitting posi-
tion moves forward if the leg be struck on the tendon below the
knee. These movements proceed independently of consciousness,
they may even proceed counter to consciousness. Usually conscious-
ness registers them as accomplished facts. Moreover these move-
ments are not at all governed by expediency. The foot moves for-
ward in answer to the blow on the tendon even though a knife or
a fire be in front of it.
By instinctive actions are meant actions governed by expediency,
hut made without conscious selection or without conscious aim.
They appear with the appearance of a sensuous tincture to sen-
sations, i. e., from that moment when the sensation begins to he
associated with a sense of pleasure or pain.
As a matter of fact, 'before the dawn of human intellect, through-
out the entire animal kingdom "actions" were governed by the ten.
dency to receive or to retain pleasure, or to escape pain.
We may declare with entire assurance that instinct is a pleasure-
pain which, like the positive and negative poles of an electro-magnet,
repels and attracts the animal in this or that direction, compelling
it to perform whole series of complex actions, sometimes expedient
to such a degree that they appear to be sensible, and not only sensi-
ble, but founded upon foresight of the future, almost upon some
clairvoyance, like the migration of birds, the building of nests for
the young which have not as yet appeared, the finding of the way
south in the autumn, and north in the spring, etc.
But all these actions are explained in reality by a single instinct,
i. e., by the subservience to pleasure-pain.
During periods in which milleniums may be regarded as days,
by selection among all animals the types have been perfected, living
along the lines of this subservience. This subservience is expedi-
ent, that is, the results of it lead to the desired goal. Why this is
so is clear. Had the sense of pleasure arisen from that which is
detrimental, the given species could not live, and would quickly die
out. Instinct is the guide of its life, but only as long as instinct is
expedient solely; just as soon as it ceases to be expedient it becomes
the guide of death, and the species soon dies out. Normally
"pleasure-pain" is pleasant or unpleasant not for the usefulness

RATIONAL AND AUTOMATIC ACTIONS 89
or the harm which may result, but because of it. Those influences
which proved to be beneficial for a given species during the vegeta.
tive life, with the transition to the more active and complex animal
life begin to be sensed as pleasant, the detrimental influences as
unpleasant. As regards two different species, one and the same in-
fluence-say a certain temperature-may be useful and pleasant
for one, and for another detrimental and unpleasant. It is clear,
therefore, that the subservience to "pleasure-pain" must be governed
by expediency. The pleasant is pleasant because it is beneficial,
the unpleasant is unpleasant because it is harmful.
Next after instinctive actions follow those actions which are ra-
tional and autQmatic.
By rational action is meant such an action as is known to the
acting subject before its execution; such an action as the acting
subject can name, define, explain, can show its cause and purpose
before its execution.
Automatic actions are actions which have been rational for a
given subject, but because of frequent repetitions they have become
habitual and are performed unconsciously. The acquired automatic
actions of trained animals were previously rational not in the animal,
but in the trainer. Such actions often appear as rational but this
is a complete illusion. The animal remembers the sequence of
actions, and therefore its actions appear to be considered and ex-
pedient. They really were considered, but not by it. Automatic
actions are often confounded with instinctive ones-in reality they
resemble instinctive ones, but there is an enormous difference be-
tween them. Automatic actions are developed by the subject during
its own life, and for a long time before they become automatic it
must be conscious of them. Instinctive actions, on the other hand,
are developed during the life-periods of the species, and the apti-
tude for them is transmitted in a definite manner by heredity. It
is possible to call automatic actions instinctive actions worked out
for itself by a given subject. It is impossible, however, to call
instinctive actions automatic actions worked out by a given species,
because they never were rational in different individuals of a given
species, ,but were compounded out of a series of complex reflexes.
REFLEXES, INSTINCTIVE AND "RATIONAL" ACTIONS, ALL MAY BE
REGARDED AS REFLECTED, i. e., AS NOT SELF-ORIGINATED. BOTH
THESE AND OTHERS, AND STILL A THIRD CLASS, COME NOT FROM MAN

TERTIUM ORGANUM

HIMSELF, BUT FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD. MAN IS THE TRANSMIT.
TING OR TRANSFORMING STATION FOR CERTAIN FORCES: ALL OF HIS
ACTIONS IN THESE THREE CATEGORIES ARE CREATED AND DETERMINED
BY HIS IMPRESSIONS OF THE OUTSIDE WORLD. MAN IN THESE THREE
SPECIES OF ACTIONS IS, IN SUBSTANCE, AN AUTOMATON, UNCONSCIOUS
OR CONSCIOUS OF HIS ACTIONS. NOTHING COMES FROM HIM HIMSELF.
With the exception of sensations of the outer world, only the
higher category of actions, i. e., conscious actions * appears to de-
pend on something else. But the aptitude for such actions is seldom
met with-only in some few persons whom it is possible to describe
as MEN OF A HIGHER TYPE.
Having established the differences between various kinds of ac.
tions, let us return to the question propounded before: In what man-
ner does the psyche of an animal differ from. that of a humltn being?
Out of the four categories of actions the two lower ones are acces-
sible to animals. The category of "conscious" actions is inacces-
sible to animals. This is proven first of all by the fact that animals
have not th
power of speech as we have it. .
As has been shown before, the possession of speech is indissolubly
bound up with the possession of concepts. Therefore we may say
that animals do not possess concepts.
Is this true, and is it possible to possess the instinctive mind with-
out possessing concepts?
All that we know about the instinctive mind teaches us that it
acts possessing sensations and perceptions only, and that in the lower
grades it possesses sensation only. The being which does its thinking
by means of perceptions possesses the instinctive mind which gives it
the possibility of exercising that choice between the perceptions pre-
sented to it which produces the impression of judging and reasoning.
In reality the animal does not reason its actions, but lives by its
emotions, subject to that emotion which 'happens to be strongest.
Although indeed, in the life of the animal, acute moments some-
times occur when it is confronted with the necessity of choosing
among a certain series of perceptions. At such moments its actions
may seem to be quite reasoned out. For example, the animal, be-
ing put in a situation of danger acts often very cautiously and wisely,
· Generally speaking, we do not observe these actions, because we confuse them with
"rational" actions; the principal cause of this confuSion is that we call "rational" actions
conecious-which they are not.

ANIMALS LACK CONCEPTS

but in reality its actions are directed not by thoughts but principally
by emotional memory and motor perceptions. It has been pre-
viously shown that emotions are expedient, and that the subjection
to them in a normal being must be expedient. Any perception of
an animal, any recollected image, is bound up with some emotional
sensation or emotional remembrance--there are no non-emotional,
cold thoughts in the animal soul, or even if there are, these are in-
active, and incapable of becoming the springs of action.
Thus all actions of animals, sometimes highly complex, expe-
dient, and apparently reasoned, we can explain without attributing
to them concepts, judgments, and the power of reasoning. Indeed,
we must recognize that animals have no concepts, and the proof of
this is that they have no speech.
If we take two men of different nationalities, different races, each
ignorant of the language of the other, and put them together, they
will find a way to communicate at once.
One perhaps draws a circle with his finger, the other draws an-
other circle beside it. By these means they have already estab-
lished that they can understand one another. If a thick wall were
put between them it would not hamper them in the least-one of
them knocks three times, and the other knocks three times in re-
sponse.
The communication is established. The idea of communicating
with the inhabitants of other planets is founded upon the idea of
light signals. It is proposed to make on the earth an enormous
lighted circle or a square to attract the attention of the inhabitants
of Mars and to be answered by them by means of the same signal.
We live side by side with animals and yet cannot establish such
communication. Evidently the distance between us and them is
greater, and the difference deeper, than between men divided by the
ignorance of language, stone walls, and enormous distances.
Another proof of the absence of concepts in the animal is its in-
ability to use a lever, i. e., its incapacity to come independently to
an understanding of the principle of the action of the lever. The
usual objection that an animal cannot operate a lever because its
organs (paws et cetera) are not adapted to su-ch actions does
not hold for the rea'son that almost any animal can be taught to
operate a lever. This shows that the difficulty is not in the organs.

TERTIUM ORGANUM

The animal simply cannot of itself come to a comprehension of the
idea of a lever_
The invention of the lever immediately divided primitive man
from the animal, and it was inextricably bound up with the appear-
ance of concepts. The psychic side of the understanding of the
action of a lever consists in the construction of a correct syllogism.
Without constructing the syllogism correctly it is impossible to
understand the action of a lever. Having no concepts it is impos-
sible to construct the syllogism. The syllogism in the psychic
sphere is literally the same thing as the lever in the physical sphere.
His mastery of the lever differentiates man as strongly from
the animal as does speech. If some learned Martians were looking
at the earth, and should study it objectively from afar by means of
a telescope, not hearing speech, nor entering into the subjective
world of the inhabitants of the earth, nor coming in contact with
them, they would divide the beings living on the earth into two
groups: those acquainted wi
the action of the lever, and those un-
acquainted with such action.
The psychology of animals is in general very misty to us. The
infinite number of observations made concerning all animals, from
elephants to spiders, and the infinite number of anecdotes about
the mind, spirit, and moral qualities of animals change nothing of
all that. We represent animals to ourselves either as living automa-
tons or as "Stupid men.
We too much confine ourselves within the circle of our own
psychology. We fail to imagine any other, and think involuntarily
that the only possible sort of soul is such as we ourselves possess.
But it is this illusion which prevents us from understanding life.
If we could participate in the psy!:hic life of an animal, understand
how it perceives, thinks and acts, we would find much of unusual in-
terest. For example, could we represent to ourselves, and re-create
mentally, the logic of an animal, it would greatly help us to under-
stand our own logic and the laws of our own thinking. Before all
else we would come to understand the conditionality and relativity
of our own logical construction and with it the conditionality of
our entire conception of the world.
An animal would have a peculiar logic. It indeed would not
be logic in the true meaning of the word, because logic presupposes
the existence of logos, i. e., of a word or concept.

ARISTOTLE AND BACON

Our usual logic, by which we live, without which "the shoemaker
will not sew the boot," is deduced from the simple scheme formu-
lated by Aristotle in those writings which were edited by his pupils
under the common name of Organon, i. e., the "Instrument" (of
thought). This scheme consists in the following:

A is A.
A is not Not-A.
Everything is either A or Not-A.

The logic embraced in this scheme-the logic of Aristotle-is
quite sufficient for observation. But for experiment it is insufficient,

ecause the experiment proceeds in time, and in the formulre of
Aristotle time is not taken into consideration. This was observed
at the very dawn of the establishment of our experimental science-
observed by Roger Bacon, and formulated several centuries later
by his famous namesake, Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, in the
treatise Novum Organum-the "New Instrument" (of thought).
Briefly, the formulation of Bacon may be reduced to the following:

That which was A, will be A.
That which was Not-A, will be Not-A.
Everything was and will be, either A or Not.A.

Upon these formulre, acknowledged or unacknowledged, all our
scientific experience is built, and upon them, too, is shoe-making
founded, because if a shoemaker could not be sure that the leather
bought yesterday would be leather tomorrow, in all probability he
would not venture to make a pair of shoes, but would find some
other more profitable employment.
The formulre of logic, such as those both of Aristotle and of
Bacon, are themselves deduced from the observation of facts, and
do not and cannot include anything except the contents of these
facts. They are not the laws of reasoning, but the laws of the outer
world as it is perceived by us, or the laws of our relation to the outer
world.
Could we represent to ourselves the "logic" of an animal we
should understand its relation to the outer world. Our cardinal
error concerning the psychology of animals consists in the fact that

TERTIUM ORGANUM

we ascribe to them our own logic. We assume that logic is one,
that our logic is something absolute, existing outside and independent
Qf us, while as a matter of fact, logic but fonnulates the laws of the
relations of our psyche to the outside world, or the laws which our
psyche discovers in the outside world. Another psyche will discover
other laws.

The logic of animals will differ from ours, first of all, from the
fact that it will not be general. It will exist separately for each
case, for each perception. Common properties, class properties,
and the generic and specific signs of categories will not exist for
animals. Each object will exist in and by itself, and all its proper-
ties will be the specific properties of it alone.
This house and that house are entirely different objects for an
animal, because one is its house and the other is a strange house.
Generally speaking, we recognize objects by the signs of their sim.
ilarity; the animal must recognize them by the signs of their differ.
ence. It remembers each object by that sign which had for it the
greatest emotional meaning. In such a manner, i. e., by their emo-
tional tones, perceptions are stored in the memory of an animal.
It is clear that such perceptions are much more difficult to store up
in the memory, and therefore the memory of an animal is more
burdened than ours, although in the amount of knowledge and in
the quantity of that which is preserved in the memory, it stands
far below us.
After seeing an object once, we refer it to a certain class, genus
and species, place it under this or that concept, and fix it in the
mind by means of some "word," i. e., algebraical symbol; then by
another, defining it, and so on.
The animal has no concepts: it has not that mental algebra by
the help of which we think. It must know always a given object,
and must remember it with all its signs and peculiarities. No for-
gotten sign will return. For us, on the other hand, the principal..
signs are contained in the concept with which we have correlated that
object, and we can find it in our memory by means of the sign for it.
From this it is clear that the memory of an animal is more bur-
dened than ours, and this is the principal hindering cause to the

THE LOGIC OF ANIMALS 95
mental evolutjon of an animal. Its mind is too busy. It has no time
to develop. The mental development of a child may be arrested
by making it memorize a series of words or a series of figures. The
animal is in just such a position. Herein lies the explanation of the
strange fact that an animal is wiser when it is young.
In man the Hower of intellectual force blooms at a mature age,
often even in senility; in the animal, quite the reverse is true. It is
receptive only while it is young. At maturity its development stops,
and in old age it undoubtedly degenerates.
The logic of animals, were we to attempt to express it by means
of formulre similar to those employed by Aristotle and Bacon would
be as follows:
The formula A is A, the animal will understand. It will say
(as it were) I am I, etc.; but the formula, A is not Not.A, it will be
incapable of understanding. Not Not-A is indeed the concept.
The animal will reason thus:

This is this.
That is that.
This is not that.

or,

This man is this man.
That map, is that man.
This man is not that ma:n..

I shall be obliged to return to the logic of animals later on; for
the present it is only necessary to establish the fact that the psy-
chology of animals is peculiar, and differs in a fundamental way
from our own. And not only is it peculiar, but it is decidedly
manifold.
Among the animals known to us, even among domestic animals,
the psychological differences are so great as to differentiate them
into entirely separate planes. We ignore this, and place them all
under a single rubric-ccanimals."
A gOose, having entangled its foot in a piece of watermelon rind,
drags it along by the web and tlms cannot get it out, but it never
thinks of raising its foot. This indicates that itB mind is so vague

TERTIUM ORGANUM

that it does not know its own body, scarcely distinguishing between
it and other objects. This would happen neither with .a dog nor
with a cat. They know their bodies very well. But in relation to
outside objects the dog and the cat differ widely. I have observed
a dog, a "very intelligent" setter. When the little rug on which he
slept got folded and was uncomfortable to sleep on, he understood
that the nuisance was oulside of him, that it was in the rug, and in
a certain definite position of the rug. Therefore he caught the rug
in his teeth, turned it and pushed it here and there, the while growl-
ing, sighing, and moaning until some one came to his aid, for he
was never able to rectify the difficulty.
With the cat such a question could not even appear. The cat
knows her body very well, but everything outside of herself she takes
as her due, as given. To correct the outside world, to accommodate
it to her own comfort, never comes into the eat's head. Perhaps
this is because she lives more in another world, in the world of
dreams and fantasies, than in this. Accordingly, if there were
something wrong with her bed the cat would turn herself about re-
peatedly until she could lie down comfortably, or she would go and
lie in another place.
The monkey would spread the rug very easily indeed.
Here we have four beings, all quite different; and this is only
one example: it would be possible to collect others by the hundred.
And meanwhile there is for us just one "animal." We mix together
many things that are entirely different; our "divisions" are often
incorrect, and this hinders us when it comes to the examination of
ourselves. To declare that manifest differences determine the "evo-
lutionary grade," that animals of one type are "higher" or "lower"
than those of another, would be entirely false. The dog and the
monkey by their intellect, their aptness to imitate, and by reason of
the dog's fidelity to man, are as it were higher than the cat, but the
cat is infinitely superior to them in intuition, esthetic sense, inde-
pendence, and force of wiU. The dog and the monkey manifest
themselves in toto: all that they have is seen. The cat, on the other
hand, is not without reason regarded as a magical and occult animal.
In her there is much hidden of which she herself does not know.
If one speaks in terms of evolution, it is more correct to say dlat the
cat and the dog are animals of different evolutions, just as in all

NOT ONE BUT SEVERAL EVOLUTIONS 97
probability, not one, but several evolutions are simultaneously going
forward in humanity.
The recognition of several independent and from one standpoint
equivalent evolutions, developing entirely different properties, would
lead us out of a labyrinth of endless contradictions in our under-
standing of man and would show us the path to the only real and
important evolution for us-the evolution into superman.

CHAPTER IX

The receptivity of the world by a man and by an animal. Illusions of the
animal and its lack of con,trol of the receptive faculties. The world
of moving planes. Angles and curves considered as motion. The
third dimension as motion. The animal's two-dimensional view of
our three-dimensional world. The animal as a real two-dimensional
being. Lower animals as one-dimensional beings. The time and
space of a snail. The time-sense as an imperfect space-sense. The
time and space of a dog. The change in the world coincident with a
change in the psychic apparatus. The proof of Kant's problem.
The three-dimensional world-an illusionary perception.

W E have established the enormous difference existing
between the psychology of a man and of an animal.
This difference undoubtedly profoundly affects the re-
ceptivity of the outer world by the animal. But how and in what?
This is exactly what we do not know, and what we shall try to dis.
cover.
To this end we shall return to our receptivity of the world, investi-
gate in detail the nature of that receptivity, and then imagine how
the animal, with its more limited psychic equipment, receives its
impression of the world.
Let us note first of all that we receive the most incorrect impres-
sions of the world as regards its outer form and aspect. We know
that the world consists of solids, but we see and touch onlr surfaces.
We never see and touch a solid. The solid-this is indeed a con.
cept, composed of a series of perceptions, the result of reasoning
and experience. For immediate sensation, surfaces alone exist.
Sensations of gravity, mass, volume, which we mentally associate
with the "solid," are in reality associated with the sensations of sur.
faces. We only know that the sensation comes from the solid, but
the solid itself we never sense. Perhaps it would be possible to call
the complex sensation of surfaces: weigh
, mass, density, resistance,
"the sensation of a solid," 'but rather do we combine mentallr all
these sensations into one, and call that composite sensation a solid.
We sense directly only surfaces; the weight and resistance of the
solid, as such, we never separatelr sense.
98

SIGHT A COMPLEX FACULTY 99
But we know that the world does not consist of surfaces: we know
that we see the world incorrectly, and that we never see it as it is,
not alone in the philosophical meaning of the expression, but in
the most simple geometrical meaning. We have nevh seen a cube,
a sphere, etc., but only their surfaces. Knowing this, we mentally
correct that which we see. Behind the surfaces we think the solid.
But we can never even represent the solid to ourselves. We cannot
imagine the cube or the sphere seen, not in perspective, but simul-
taneously from all sides.
It is clear that the world does not exist in perspective; nevertheless
we cannot see it otherwise. We see everything only in perspective;
that is, in the very act of receptivity the world is distorted in our
eye, and we know that it is distorted. We know that it is not such
as it appears, and mentally we are continuously correcting that which
the eye sees, substituting the real content for those symbols of things
which sight reveals.
Our sight is a complex faculty. It consists of visual sensations
plus the memory of 'Sensations of touch. The child tries to feel
with its finger-tips everything that it sees-the nose of its nurse,
the moon, the reflection of sun rays from the mirror on the wall.
Only gradually does it learn to discern the near and the distant by
means of sight alone. But we know that even in mature age we
are easily subject to optical illusions.
We see distant objects as flat, even more incorrectly, because
relief is after all a symbol revealing a certain property of objects.
A man at a long distance is pictured to us in silhouette. This hap-
pens because we never feel anything at a long distance, and the eye
has not been taught to discern the difference in surfaces whioh at
short distances are felt by the finger-tips.*
*In this connection, there have been eome interesting observations made upon the
blind who are just beginning to see.
In the magazine Slepetz (The Blind, 1912) there is a description from direct obser-
vation of how those born blind loom to liee alter the operation which restored their
sight.
This is how a seventeen-year-old youth, who recovered his sight after the removal of a
cataract, describes his impressions. On the third day after the operation he was asked
what he saw. He answered that he saw an enormous field of light and misty objects
moving upon it. These objects he did not discern. Only after four days did he begin
to discern them, and after an interval of two weeks, when his eyes were accustomed to
the light, he started to use rus sight practically, for the discernment of objects. He was
shown all the colors of the spectrum and he learned to distinguish them very soon, ex.
cept yellow and green, which he confused for a long time. The cube, sphere and pyr.

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We can never see, even in the minute, any part of the outer world
as it is, that is, as we know ll. We can never see the desk or the
wardrobe aU at once, from all sides and inside. Our eye distorts
the outside world in a certain way, in order that, looking about, we
may be able to define the position of objects relatively to ourselves.
But to look at the world from any other standpoint than our own is
impossible for us, nor can we ever see it correctly, without distortion
by our sight.
Relief and perspective-these constitute the distortions of the
object by our eye. They are optical illusions, delusions of sight.
The cube in perspective is but a conventional sign of the three-di-
mensional cube, and all that we see is the conditional image of that
conditionally real three-dimensional world with which our geometry
deals, and not that world itself. On the basis of what we see we
surmise that it exists in reality. We know that what we see is
incorrect, and we think of the world as other than it appears. If
we had no doubt about the correctness of our sight, if we knew that
the world were such as it appears, then obviously we should think
of the world in the manner in which we see it. In reality we are
constantly engaged in making corrections.
It is clear that the ability to make corrections in that which the
eye sees demands, undoubtedly, the possession of the concept, be-
cause the corrections are made by a process of reasoning, which is
impossible without concepts. Deprived of the faculty to make cor-
rections in that which the eye sees we should have a different out-
look on the world, i. e., much of that which is we should see incor-
rectly; we should not see much of that which is, but we should see
much of that which does not exist in reality at all. First of all,
we should see an enormous number of non-existent motions. Every
amid, when placed before him seemed to him like the !quare, the flat disc, and the hi-
angle. When the flat disc was put alongside the sphere he distinguished no difference
between them. When asked what impression both kinds of figures produced on him just
at first, he said that he noticed at once the difference between the cube and the sphere,
and understood that they were not drawings, but was unable to deduce from them their
relation to the square and to the circle, until he felt in his finger tips the desire to touch
these objects. When he was allowed to take the cube, sphere and pymmid in his hands
he at once identified these solids by the sense of touch, and wondered very much that he
was unable to recognize them by sight. He lacked the perception of Bpace, perspective.
All objects seemed flat to him: though he knew that the nose protrudes, and that the
eyes are located in cavities, the human face seemed flat to him. He was delighted with
his recovered vision, but in the beginning it fatigued him to exercise it: the impressions
oppressed and exhausted hm. For this reason. though .DoBsessing perfect sight, he some-
times turned to the sense of touch as to revos...

HOW AN ANIMAL SEES THE WORLD 101
motion of ours in our direct sensation of it, is bound up with the
motion of everything around us. We know that this motion is an
illusory one, but we see it as real. Objects turn in front of us, run
past us, overtake one another. If we are riding slowly past houses,
these turn slowly, if we are riding fast they turn quickly; also, trees
grow up before us unexpectedly, run away and disappear.
This seeming animation of objects, coupled with dreams, has
always inspired, and still inspires the fairy tale.
The "motions" of objects, to a person in motion, are very complex
indeed. Observe how strangely the field of wheat behaves just be-
yond the window of the car in which you arp. riding. It runs to the
very window, stops, turns slowly around itself and runs away. The
trees of the forest run apparently at different speeds, overtaking
one another. The entire landscape is one of illusory motion. Be-
hold also the sun, which even up to the present time "rises" and
"sets" in all languages-this "motion" having been in the past so
passionately defended!
This is all seeming, and though we know that these motions are
illusory, we see them nevertheless, and sometimes we are deluded.
To how many more illusions should we be subject had we not the
power of mentally analyzing their determining causes, but were
obliged to believe that everything exists as it appears!
I see it; there/ore this exists.
This affirmation is the principal source of all illusions. To he
true, it is necessary to say:
I see it; therefore this does not exist-or at least, I see it; there-
fore this is not so.
Although we can say the last, the animal cannot, for to its ap-
prehension things are as they appear. It must believe what it sees.
How does the world appear to the animal?
The world appears to it as a series of complicated moving sur-
faces. The animal lives in a world 0/ two dimensions. Its universe
has for it the properties and apearance of a sur/ace. And upon this
surface transpire an enormous number of different movements of a
most fantastic character.
Why should the world appear to the animal as a surface?
First of all, because it appears as a surface to us.
But we know that the world is not a surface, arid the animal can.
not know it. It accepts everything just as it appears. It is power-

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less to correct the testimony of its eyes-or it cannot do so to the
extent that we do.
We are able to measure in three mutually independent directions;
the nature of our mind permits us to do this. The animal can meas-
ure simultaneously in two directions only-it can never measure
in three directions at once. This is due to the fact that, not pos-
sessing concepts, it is unable to retain in the mind the idea of the
first two directions, for measuring the third.
Let me explain this more exactly.
Suppose we imagine that we are measuring the cube.
In order to measure the cube in three directions, it is necessary
while measuring in one direction, to keep in mind two others-to
remember. But it is possible to keep them in mind as concepts
only, that is, associating them with different concepts-pasting upon
them different labels. So, pasting upon the first two directions the
labels of length and breadth, it is possible to measure the height.
It is impossible otherwise. As perceptions, the first two measure-
ments of the cube are completely identical, and assuredly will mingle
into one in the mind. The animal, without the aid of concepts, can-
not paste upon the first two measurements the labels of length and
breadth. Therefore, at the moment when it begins to measure the
height of the cube, the first two measurements will be confused in
one. The animal, attempting to measure the cube by means of
perceptions only without the aid of concepts, will be like a cat I
once observed. Her kittens-five or six in number-she dragged
asunder into different rooms, and could not then collect them to-
gether. She seized one, put it beside another, ran for a third and
brought it to the first two, but then she seized the first and carried
it away to another room, putting it beside the fourth; after that she
ran back, seized the second and dragged it to the room contain-
ing the fifth, and so on. For a whole hour the cat had no rest with
her kittens, she suffered severely, and could accomplish nothing.
It is clear that she lacked the «oncepts which would enable her to
remember how many kittens she had altogether.
It is in the highest degree important to understand the relation of
the animal consciousness to the measuring of bodies.
The great point is that the animal sees surfaces only. (We may
say this with complete assurance, because we ourselves see surfaces
only.) Thus seeing only surfaces the animal can imagine but two

THE ME M 0 R Y 0 FAN I MAL S 103
dimensions. The third-dimension, in contradistinction to the other
two, can only be thought; that is, this dimension must be a concept;
but animals do not possess concepts. The third dimension like the
others appears as a perception. Therefore, at the moment of its
appearance, the first two will inevitably mingle into one. The an-
imal is capable of perceiving the difference between two dimensions:
the difference between three it cannot perceive. This difference
must be known beforehand, and to know it concepts are necessary.
Identical perceptions mix into one for the animal, just as we
ourselves confuse two simultaneous, similar phenomena proceeding
from the same point. For the animal it will be one phenomenon, just
as for us all similar, simultaneous phenomena proceeding from a
single point will be one phenomenon.
Therefore the animal will see the world as a surface, and will
measure this surface in two directions only.
But how is it possible to explain the fact that the animal, inhabit-
ing a two-dimensional world, or rather, perceiving itself as in a two-
dimensional world, is perfectly oriented in our three-dimensional
world? How explain the fact that the bird flies up and down, side-
ways and straight ahead-in all three directions; that the horse
jumps over ditches and barriers; that the dog and cat appear to
understand the properties of depth and height simultaneously with
those of length and breadth?
In order to explain these things it is necessary to return to the
fundamental principles of animal psychology. It has been pre-
viously shown that many properties of objects remembered by us
as general properties of genus, class, species, are remembered
by animals as individual properties of objects. To orientate in
this enormous reserve of individual properties preserved in the
memory, animals are assisted by the emotional tone which is
linked up in them with each perception and each remembered sen-
sation.
For example, an animal knows two roads as two entirely separate
phenomena having nothing in common; that is, one road consists of
a series of definite perceptions colored by definite emotional tones;
the other phenomenon-the other road-consists of another series
of definite perceptions colored with other tones. We say
that this, that, and the other are roads. One leads to one place, a
second to another. For an animal the two roads have nothing in

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common. But it remembers in their proper sequence all the emo-
tional tones which are linked with the first road and with the second
one, and it therefore remembers both roads with their turns, ditches,
fences, etc.
Thus the remembering of definite properties of observed objects
helps the animal to find itself in the world of phenomena. But
as a rule before new phenonema an animal is much more helpless
than a man.
An animal sees two dimensions; the third dimension it senses
constantly, but does not see. It senses the third dimension as some-
thing transient, just as we sense time.
The surfaces which an animal sees possess for it many strange
properties; first of all, numerous and various motions.
As has been said already, all those illusory motions which seem
to us real, but which we know to be illusory, are entirely real to
the animal: the turning about of the houses as we ride past, the
growth of a tree out of some corner, the passing of the moon be-
tween clouds, etc., etc.
But in addition to all this, many motions must exist for the ani-
mal of which we have no suspicion. The fact is that innumerable
objects quite immobile for us--properly all objects-must seem to
the animal to be in motion; AND THE THIRD DIMENSION OF
SOLIDS WILL APPEAR TO IT IN THESE MOTIONS; i. e., THE THIRD DI-
MENSION OF SOLIDS WILL APPEAR TO IT AS A MOTION.

Let us try to imagine how the animal perceives the objects of the
outer world.
Suppose it is confronted with a large disc, and simultaneously
with a large sphere of the same diameter.
Standing directly opposite them at a certain distance, the animal
will see two circles. Beginning to walk around them, it will observe
that the sphere remains a circle, while the disc gradually narrows,
transforming itself into a narrow strip. On moving farther around,
the strip begins to expand and gradually transforms itself into a
circle. The sphere will not change during this circumambulation.
But when the animal approaches toward it certain strange phenom-
ena ensue.

HOW THE ANIMAL SENSES SOLIDS 105
Let us try to understand how the animal will perceive the surface
of we sphere as contrasted with the surface of the disc.
One thing is sure: it will perceive the spherical surface differently
from us. We perceive convexity or sphericality as a common pro p-
eTty of many surfaces. The animal, on the contrary, because of
the very properties of its psychic apparatus, will perceive that spheri-
cality as an individual property of a given sphere. Now how will
this sphericality as an individual property of a given sphere appear
to it?
We may declare with complete assurance that the sphericality
will appear to the animal as a movement on the surface which it
sees.
During the approach of the animal toward the sphere something
like the following must happen: the surface which the animal sees
starts to move quickly; its center spreads out, and all of the other
points run away from the center with a velocity proportional to
their distance from the center (or the square of their distance from
the center).
It is in this way that the animal senses the spherical surface-
much as we sense sound.
At a certain distance from the sphere the animal perceives it as a
plane. Approaching or touching some point on the sphere it sees
that all other points have changed with relation to this particular
point, they have all altered their position on the plane-have moved
to one side, as it were. Touching another point, it sees that all the
rest have moved in similar fashion.
This property of the sphere will appear as its motion, its "vibra-
tion." The sphere will actually resemble a vibrating, oscillating
surface, in the same way that each angle of an immobile object will
appear to the animal as a motion.
The animal can see an angle of a three-dimensional object only
while moving past it, and during the time it takes, the object will
seem to the animal to have turned-a new side has appeared, and
the side first seen has disappeared or moved away. The angle
will be perceived as rotation, as the motion of the object, i. e., as
something transient, temporal, as a change of state in the object.
Remembering the angles which it has seen before-seen as the mo-
tion of bodies-the animal will consider that they have ceased, have
ended, have disappeared-that they are in the past.

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Of course the animal cannot reason in this way, hut it acts as
though it had thus reasoned.
Could the animal think ahout those phenomena which have not
yet entered into its life (i. e., angles and curved surfaces) it would
undouhtedly imagine them in time only: it could not prefigure for
them any real existence at the present moment when they have not
yet appeared. And were it ahle to express an opinion on this sub.
ject, it would say that angles exist in potentiality, that they will be,
but that for the present they do not exist.
The angle of a house past which a horse runs every day is a phe-
nomenon, repeating under certain circumstances, but nevertheless
a phenomenon proceeding in time, and not a spatial and constant
property of the house.
For the animal the angle will be a temporal phenomenon and not
a spatial one, as it is for us.
Thus we see that the animal will perceive the properties of our
third dimension as motions, and will refer these properties to
time, i. e., to the past or future, or to the present-the moment of
the transition of the future into the past.
This circumstance is in the highest degree important, for there-
in lies the key to our own receptivity of the world; we shall there-
fore examine into it more in detail.

Up to the present time we have taken into consideration only the
higher animals: the dog, the cat, the horse. Let us now try the
lower: let us take the snail. We know nothing aoout its inner life,
but undoubtedly its receptivity resembles ours scarcely at all. In
all probability the snail possesses some obscure sensations of its
environment. Probably it feels heat, cold, light, darkness, hunger
-and it instinctively (i. e., urged hy pleasure-pain guidance) strives
to reach the uneaten edge of the leaf on which it rests, and instinc-
tively avoids the dead leaf. Its movements are guided by pleasure-
pain: it constantly strives toward the one, and away from the other.
It always moves upon a single line, from the unpleasant to the pleas-
ant, and in all probability except for tJIis line it is not conscious of
anything and does not sense anything. This line is its entire world.
All sensations, entering from the outside, the snail senses upon this

A S N A I L ' S W 0 R L DON E . DIM ENS ION A L 101
line of its motion, and these come to it out of ti
from the po.
tential they become the present. For the snail our entire universe
exists in the future and in the past-i. e., in time. In space only
one line exists; all the rest is time. It is more than probable
that the snail is not conscious of its movements. Making efforts
with its entire body it moves forward to the fresh edge of the leaf,
but it seems as if the leaf were coming to it, appearing at that mo-
ment, coming out of time as the morning comes to us.
The snail is a one.dimensional being.
The higher animals-tbe dog, cat, the horse--are two-dimen-
sional beings. To the higher animal all space appears as a surface,
as a plane. Everything out of this plane lives for it in time.
Thus we see that the higher animal-the two-dimensional being
compared with the one-dimensional-extracts or captures from time
one more dimension.
The world of a snail has one dimension; our second and third
dimensions are for it in time.
The world of a dog is two-dimensional; our third dimension is for
it in time.
An animal can remember all "phenomena" which it has observed,
i. e., all properties of three-dimensional solids with which it has
come in contact, but it cannot know that the (for it) recurring phe.
nomenon is a constant property of the three-dimensional solid-an
angle, curvature, or convexity.
Such is the psychology of the receptivity of the world by a two-
dimensional being.
For such a being a new SlUt will rise every day. Yesterday's
sun is gone, and will not appear again; tomorrow's does not as yet
exist.
Rostand did not understand the psychology of "Chantecler." The
cock could not think that he woke up the sun by his crowing. To
him the sun does not go to sleep, it goes into the pa::;t, disappears,
suffers annihilation, ceases to be. IT it comes on the morrow it will
be a new sun, just as for us with every new year comes a new spring.
In order to be the sun shall not wake up, but arise, be born. The
cock (if it could think without losing its characteristic psychology)
could not believe in the appearance today of the same sun which
was yesterday. This is purely human reasoning.
For the animal a new sun rises every morning, just as for us a

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new morning comes with every day and a ,new sprzng with every
year.
The animal is not in a position to understand that the sun is the
same yesterday and today, EXACTLY IN THE SAME WAY THAT WE
PROBABLY CANNOT UNDERSTAND THAT THE MORNING IS THE SAME
AND THE SPRING IS THE SAME.
The motion of objects which is not illusory, even for us, but a real
motion, like that of a revolving wheel, a passing carriage, and so
on, will differ for the animal very much from that motion which it
sees in all objects which are for us immobile-i. e., from that mo-
tion in which the third dimension of solids is as it were revealed to it.
The first mentioned motion (real for us) will seem to the animal
arbitrary, alive.
And these two kinds of motion will be incommensurable for it.
The animal will be in a position to measure an angle or a convex
surface, though not understanding their true nature, and though
regarding them as motion. But true motion, i. e., that which is true
motion to us, it will never be in a position to measure, because for
this it is necessary to possess our concept of time, and to measure
all motions with reference to some one more constant motion, i. e.,
to compare all motions with some one. Without concepts the animal
is powerless to do this. Therefore the (for us) real motions of ob-
jects will be incommensurable for it, and being incommensurable,
will be incommensurable with other motions which 'are real and
measurable for it, but which are illusory for us-motions which in
reality represent the third dimension of solids.
This last conclusion is inevitable. If the animal apprehends
and measures as motion that which is not motion, clearly it cannot
measure by one and the same standard that which is motion and that
which is not motion.
But this does not mean that it cannot know the character of motions
going on in the world and cannot conform itself to them. On the
contrary, we see that the animal orientates itself perfectly among
the motions of the objects of our three-dimensional world. Here
comes into play the aid of instinct, i. e., the ability, developed by
millenniums of selection, to act expediently without consciousness
of purpose. Moreover, the animal discerns perfectly the motions
going on around it.
But discerning two kinds of phenomena, two kinds of motion, the

WHY ADO G BAR K SAT A CAR R I AGE 109
animal will explain one of them by means of some incomprehensible
inner property of objects, i. e., in all probability it will regard this
motion as the result of the animation of objects, and the moving
objects as animated beings.
The kitten plays with the ball or with its tail because ball and
tail are running away from it.
The bear will fight with the beam which threatens to throw him off
the tree, because in the swinging beam he senses something alive
and hostile.
The horse is frightened by the bush because the bush unexpectedly
turned and waved a branch. .
In the last case the bush need not even have moved at all, for
the horse was running, and it seemed therefore as though the bush
moved, and consequently that it was animated. In all probability
all movement is thus animated for the animal. Why does the dog
bark so desperately at the passing carriage? This is not entirely
clear to us for we do not realize that to the eyes of the dog the carriage
is turning, twisting, grimacing all over. It is alive in every part-
the wheels, the top, the mud-guards, seats, passengers-all these
are moving, turning.

Now let us draw certain conclusions from all of the foregoing.
We have established the fact that man possesses sensations, percep-
tions and concepts; that the higher animals possess sensations and
perceptions, and the lower animals sensations only. The conclusion
that animals have no concepts we deduced from the fact that they
have no speech. Next we have established that having no concepts,
animals cannot comprehend the third dimension, but see the world
as a surface; i. e., they have no means-no instrument-for the cor-
rection of their incorrect sensations of the world. Furthermore,
we have found that seeing the world as a surface, animals see upon
this 'Surface many motions which for us are non-existent. That is,
all those properties of solids which we regard as the properties of
three-dimensionality, animals represent to themselves as motions.
Thus the angle and the spherical surface appear to them as the move-
ments of a plane. After that we came to the conclusion that every-
thing which we regard as constant in the region of the third dimen-

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sion, animals regard as transient things which happen to objects-
temporal phenomena.
Thus in all its relations to the world the animal is quite analo-
gous to the imagined, unreal two-dimensional being living upon a
plane. All our world appears to the animal as the plane through
which phenomena are passing, moving upon time, or in time.
And so we may say that we have established the following: that
under certain limitations of the psychic apparatus for receiving the
outer world, for the subject possessing this apparatus, the entire
aspect and all properties of the world will suffer change. And two
subjects, living side by side, but possessing different psychic appa-
ratus, will inhabit different worlds-the properties of the extension
of the world will be different for them. And we observed the con-
ditions, not invented for the purpose, not concoct
d in imagination,
but really existing in nature; that is, the psychic conditions governing
the lives of animals, under which the world appears as a plane or as
a line.
That is to say, we have established that the three-dimensional ex-
tension of the 'World depends upon the properties of our psychic
apparatus.
Or, that the three-dimensionality of the world is not its property,
but a property of our receptivity of the world.
In other words, the three-dimensionality of the world is a property
of its reflection in our consciousness.
If all this is so, then it is obvious that we have really proved the
dependence of space upon the space. sense. And if we have proved
the existence of a space-sense lower in comparison with ours, by this
we have proved the possibility of a space-sense higher in comparison
with ours.
And we shall grant that if in us there develops the fourth unit of
reasoning as different from the concept as the concept is different
from perception, so simultaneously with it will appear for us in the
surrounding world a fourth characteristic which we may designate
geometrically as the fourth direction or the fourth perpendicular,
because in this characteristic will be included the properties of
objects perpendicular to all properties known to us, and not parallel
to any of them. In other words, we shall see, or we shall feel our-
selves in a space not of three, but of four dimensions; and in the
objects surrounding us, and in our own bodies, will appear common

A NIL L US 0 R Y W 0 R L D 111
properties of the fourth dimension which we did not notice before,
or which we regarded as individual properties of objects ! or their
motion), just as animals regard the extension of objects in the third
dimension as their motion.
And when we shall see or feel ourselves in the world of four di-
mensions we shall see that the world of three dimensions does not
really exist and has never existed: that it was the creation of our
own fantasy, a phantom hos
, an optical illusion, a delusion-any-
thing one pleases excepting only reality.
And all this is not an "hypothesis," not a supposition, but exact
fact, just such a fact as the existence of infinity. For positivism
to insure its existence it was necessary to annihilate infinity somehow,
or at least to call it an "hypothesis" which mayor may not be true.
Infinity however is not an hypothesis, but a fact, and such a fact is th

multi-dimensionality of space and all that it implies, namely, the un-
reality of everything three-dimensional.

CHAPTER X

The spatial understanding of time. The angles and curves of the fourth
dimension in our life. Does motion exist in the world or not?
Mechanical motion and "life." Biological phenomena as the mani.
festation of motions going on in the higher dimension. Evolution
of the space-sense. The growth of the space-sense and the diminu-
tion of the time-sense. The transformation of the time-sense into the
space-sense. The difficulties of our language and of our concepts.
The necessity for seeking a method of spatial expression for temporal
concepts. Science in relation to the fourth dimension. The solid
of four dimensions. The four-dimensional sphere.

N OW from the basis of those conclusions already made, let
us seek to define how we may discover the real four-dimen-
sional world obscured from us by the illusory three-di-
mensional world. "See" it we may by two methods: either by
sensing it directly, by developing the "space-sense" and other higher
faculties, which will be discussed later; or by understanding it men-
tally by a perception of its possible properties through the exercise
of the reason.
By abstract reasoning, we have already come to the conclusion
that the fourth dimension of space must lie in time, i. e., that time
is the fourth dimension of space. We have already discovered psy-
chological proofs of this thesis. Comparing the receptivity of the
world by living beings of different grades of consciousness-snail,
dog and man-we have seen how different for them are the proper-
ties of one and the same world; namely, those properties which are
expressed for us in the concepts of time and space. We have seen
that time and space are sensed by each in a different manner: that
what for the lower being (the snail) is time, for the being stand-
ing one degree higher (the dog) becomes space, and that the time
of this being becomes space to a being standing still higher-man.
This is a confirmation of the supposition previously expressed, that
our idea of time is complex in its nature, and that in it are prop-
erly included two ideas-that of a certain space and that of mo-
112

TIME-SENSE AND SPACE-SENSE 113
tion upon this space. Or to put the matter more exactly, the con-
tact with a certain space of which we are not clearly conscious calls
forth in us the sensation of motion upon that space; and all this
taken together, i. e., the unclear consciousness of a certain space
and the sensation of motion upon that space, we call time.
This last confirms the conception that the idea of time has not
arisen from the observation of motion existing in nature, but that
the very sensation and idea of motion has arisen from a "time-
sense" existing in ourselves, which is an imperfefJt sense of space:
the fringe, or limit of our space-sense.
The snail feels the line as space, i. e., as something constant. It
feels the rest of the world as time, i. e., as something eternally
moving. The horse feels the plane as space. It feels the rest of
the world as time.
We feel an infinite sphere as space; the rest of the world, that
which was yesterday and that which will be tomorrow, we feel as
time.
In other words, every being feels as space that which is grasped
by his space-sense: the rest he refers to time; i. e., the imperfectly
felt is referred to time. Or it is possible to formulate the matter
thus: every being feels as space that which, by the aid of his space.
sense he is able to represent to himself in form, outside of himself;
and that which he is not able thus to represent he feels as time, i. e.,
eternally moving, impermanent, so unstable that it is impossible to
imagine it in terms of form.
THE SENSE OF SPACE (SPACE-SENSE) IS THE POWER OF REPRE-
SENTATION BY MEANS OF FORM.

The "infinite sphere" by which we represent the universe to our-
selves is constantly and continuously changing: in every co
secutive
moment it is not that which it was before. A constant change of
pictures, images, relations, is going on therein. It is for us as it
were the screen of a cinematograph upon which the swiftly running
images of pictures appear and disappear.
But where are the pictures themselves? Where is the light throw-
ing the image upon the screen? Whence do the pictures come, and
whither do they go?

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

If the "infinite sphere" is the screen of the cinem!:.tograph so our
oonsciousness is the ligftt, penetrating through our psyche: i. e.,
through the stores of our impressions (pictures) it (the light) throws
upon the screen their images which we call life.
But where do the impressions come from to us?
From the same screen.
And herein dwells the most incomprehensible mystery of life as
we see it. We are creating it and we are receiving everything from
it.
Imagine a man sitting in the ordinary moving-picture theatre.
Imagine that he knows nothing of the construction of the cinemat-
ograph, nothing of the existence of the lantern behind his btrek, nor
of the small transparent picture on the moving film. Let us imagine
that he wants to study the cinematograph, and begins to study that
which proceeds. on the screen, to make notes, to take pictures, to
observe the order, to calculate, to construct hypotheses, and so forth.
At what will he arrive?
Evidently at nothing at all, unless he will turn his back to tbe
screen, and will begin to study the cause of the appearance of the
pictures upon the screen. The cause is confined in the lantern (i. e.,
in consciousness), and in the moving films of pictures (in the
psyche). These it is necessary to study, desiring to understand the
"cinematograph."
Positive philosophy studies only the screen and the pictures pass-
irIg upon it. For this reason the eternal enigma remains for it:
wherefrom are the pictures coming and where are they going, and
why are they coming and going instead of remaining eternally the
same?
But it is necessary to study the cinematograph beginning with the
source of light, i. e., with consciousness, then to pass on to the pic-
tures on the moving film, and only after that to study the projected
image.

We have established that the animal (the horse, the cat, the dog)
must perceive the immobile angles and curves of the third dimension
as motion, i. e., as temporal phenomena.
The question arises: do not we perceive as motion, i. e., as tem-

THE ILL U S ION 0 F MOT ION 115
poral phenomena, the immobile angles and curves of the fourth di-
mension ? We ordinarily say that our sensations are the moments
of the apprehension of certain changes proceeding outside of us;
such are sound, light, etc., all "vibrations of the ether." But what
are these "changes?" Perhaps in reality there are no changes at
all. Perhaps the immobile sides and angles of certain things which
exist outside of us--of certain things which we -know nothing
about--only appear to us as motions, i. e., as changes.
It may !be that our consciousness, not being able to embrace these
things with the aid 01 the organs 01 sense, and to represent them to
itself in their entirety, just as they are, and grasping only the separ-
ate moments of its contact with them, is constructing the illusion of
motion, and conceives that something is moving outside of it (of
consciousness), i. e., that the "things" are themselves moving.
If such is the case, then "motion" must be in reality something
only "derived," arising in our intellect during its contact with things
which it does not grasp in their totality. Let us imagine that we are
approaching an unknown city, and that it is slowly "growing up"
before us as we approach. It appears to us as if it is really grow-
ing up, i. e., as though it did not exist before. There disappeared
the river, which was visible for so long a time; there appeared the
bell-tower. which was invisible before.
Such" exactly, is our relation to time, which is a continual
coming-arising, as it were, from nothing and going into naught.
Every thing lies for us in time, and only the section 01 the thing
lies in space. Transferring our consciousness from the section of the
thing to those parts of it which lie in time, we receive the illusion of
motion on the part 01 the thing itself.
It is possible to formulate the matter thus: the sensation of motion
is the consciousness of the transition from space to time, i. e., from
a clear space-sense to one that is unclear. With this in mind it is
not difficult to realize that we .are receiving as sensations, and pro-
jecting into the outside world as phenomena, the immobile angles
and curves 01 the fourth dimension.
On this account is it not necessary and possible to recognize that
the world is immobile and constant, and that it seems to us to be
moving and evolving simply because we are looking at it through the
narrow slit of our sensuous receptivity?
We are returning again to the question: what is the world and what

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

is
onsciousness? But now the question concerning the relation of
our consciousness to the world is beginning to be formulated for us.
If the world is a Great Something, possessing the consciousness of
itself, so we are rays of that consciousness which are conscious of
themselves, but unconscious of the whole.

If there be no motion, if it be an illusion, then we must search
further-whence could this illusion have arisen?
The phenomena of life-biological phenomena-much resemble
the transition through our space of certain four-dimensional circles,
the circles being extremely complicated, every one consisting of a
great number of interlaced lines.
The life of a man or of any other living being suggests a compli-
cated circle. It begins always at one point (birth) and ends always
at one point (death) . We have complete justification for supposing
that it is one and the same point. The circles are large and small,
but they begin and end similarly, and they end at the same point
where they began, i. e., at the point of non-existence, from the
physico-biological standpoint, or of some existence other than the
psychologicial one.
What is the biological phenomenon, the phenomenon of life?
Our science does not answer this question. This is the enigma.
In the living organism, in the living cell, in the living protoplasm
there is something indefinable, differentiating, living matter from
dead matter. We recognize this something only by its functions.
The chief of these functions is the power of self-reproduction-
absent in the dead organism, the dead cell, dead matter.
The living organism multiplies infinitely, incorporating and
assimilating dead matter into itself. This ability to reproduce
itself and to absorb dead matters with its mechanical laws is the
inexplicable function of "life," showing that life is not simply a
complex of mechanical forces, as the positivist philosophy attempts
to prove.
This thesis, that life is not a complex of mechanical forces, is
corroborated also by the incommensurability of the phenomena
of mechanical motion with the phenomena of life. Life phenomena
cannot be expressed in terms of mechanical energy, calories of

THE PHENOMENA OF LIFE

117
of life be

heat or units of horse power; nor can the phenomena
artificially created by the physico-chemical method.
If we shall regard every separate life as a circle of the fourth
dimension, this will make clear to us why every circle is inevitably
escaping from our 'space. This happens because the circle in-
evitably ends in the same point at which it began, and the "life"
of the separate being, beginning with birth, must end in death,
which is the return to the point of departure. But during its
transit through our space, the circle puts forth from itself certain
lines, which, uniting with others, yield new circles.
In reality of course all this proceeds quite otherwise: nothing
is born and nothing dies; it only so represents itself to us, because
we see but the sections of things. In reality, the circle of life is
only the section of something, and that something undoubtedly exists
before birth, i. e., before the appearance of the circle in our space,
and continues to exist after death, i. e., after the disappearance
of the circle from the field of our vision.
To our observation the phenomena of life are similar to the phe-
nomena of rrwtion as these appear to the two-dimensional being;
and therefore it may be that this is "the motion in the fourth
dimension."
We have seen that the two-dimensional being is bound to re-
gard the properties of the three-dimensionality of solids as motions,
and the real motions of solids, going on in the higher space as
the phenomena of life.
In other words, that motion which remains a motion in the
higher space appears to the lower being as a phenomenon of life,
and that which disappears in the higher space, transforming it-
self into the property of an immobile solid, appears to the lower
being as mechanical motion.
The phenomena of "life" and the phenomena of "motion"
are just as incommensurable for us as are the two kinds of motion
in its world for the two-dimensional being; one of these motions
being real and the other illusory.
Hinton says of this incommensurability: "There is something
in life not included in our conception of mechanical movement.
Is this something a four-dimensional movement?
"If we look at it from the broadest point of view there is something
striking in the fact that where life comes in there arises an entirely

118

TERTIUM ORGANUM

different set of phenomena from those of the inorganic world."*
Upon this basis it is justifiable to assume that those phenomena
!which we call th
phenomena of life are movements in higher space.
Those phenomena which we call mechanical motion become in
turn the phenomena of life in a space lower relatively to ours, and
in one higher, simply the properties of immobile solids. This
means that if we consider three kinds of existence-the two

dimensional, ours, and the higher dimensional-then it will
a ppear that the "motion" which is observed by the two-dimension-
al being in two-dimensional space, is for us a property of immobile
solids; "life" as it is apprehended in two-dimensional space, is
"motion" as we observe it in our space. Moreover, motions in
three-dimensional space, i. e., all our mechanical motions and the
manifestations of physico-chemical forces-light, sound, heat, etc.,
-are only our sensations of some to us incomprehensible prop-
erties of four-dimensional solids; and our "phenomena of life"
are the motions of solids of higher space which appear to us as the
birth, growth, and life of living beings. But if we presuppose a
space not of four, but of five dimensions, then in it the "phenomena
of life" would probably appear as the properties of immobile
solids-genus, species, families, peoples, races, and so forth-
and motions would seem, perhaps, only the phenomena of thought.

We know that the phenomena of motion or the manifestations of
energy are involved with the expenditure of time, and we see how,
with the gradual transcendence of the lower space by the higher,
motion disappears, being converted into the properties of
immobile solids; i. e., the expenditure of time disappears-and
the necessity for time. To the two-dimensional being time is
necessary for the understanding of the most simple phenomena-
an angle, a hill, a ditch. For us time is not necessary for the
understanding of such phenomena, but is necessary for the
explanation of the phenomena of motion and physical phenomena.
In a space still higher, our phenomena of motion and physical
phenomena would probably be regarded independently of time,
as properties of immobile solids; and biological phenomena-
· "The Fourth Dimension," p. 77.

TIME AN IMPERFECT SENSE OF SPACE 119
birth, growth, reproduction, death-would be regarded as
phenomena of motion.
Thus we see how the idea of time recedes with the expansion of
consciousness.
We see its complete conditionality.
We see that by time are designated the characteristics of a
space relatively higher than a given space-i. e., the character-
istics of the perceptions of a consciousness relatively higher than
a given consciousness.
For the one-dimensional being all the indices of two-, three-,
four-dimensional space and beyond, lie in time-all this is time.
For the two-dimensional being time embraces within itself the
indices of three-dimensional space, four-dimensional space, and all
spaces beyond. For man, i. e., the three-dimensional being, time
contains the indices of four-dimensional space and all spaces beyond.
Therefore, according to the degree of expansion and elevation
of the consciousness and the forms of its receptivity the .indices
of space are augmented and the indices of time are diminished.
In other words, the growth of the space-sense is proceeding
at the expense of the time-sense. Or one may say that the time-
sense is an imperfect space-sense (i. e., an imperfect power of rep.
resentation which, being perfected, translates itself into the space-
sense, i. e., into the power of representation in forms.
1£, taking as a foundation the principles elucidated here, we
attempt to represent to ourselves the universe very abstractedly,
it is clear that this will be quite other than the universe which we
are accustomed to imagine to ourselves. Everything will exist in
it always.
This will be the universe of the Eternal Now of Hindu philos-
ophy-a universe in which will be neither before nor after, in
which will be just one present, known or unknown.
Hinton feels that with the expansion of the space-sense our vision
of the world will change completely, and he tells about this in
.his book, A New Era of Thought. (p. 66.)

The conception which we shall form of the universe will undoubtedly
Ee as different from our present one, as the Copernican view differs from
the more pleasant view of a wide, immovable earth beneath a vast vault.
Indeed, any conception of our place in the universe will be more agr.eeable

120

TERTIUM ORGANUM

than the thought of being on a spinning ball, kicked into space without
any means of communication with any other inhabitants of the universe.

But what does the world of many dimensions represent in it-
self-what are these solids of many dimensions the lines and
boundaries of which we perceive as motion?
A great power of imagination is necessary to transcend the
limits of our perceptions and to visualize mentally the world in
other categories even for a moment.
Let us imagine some object, say a book, outside of time and
space. What will this last mean? Were we to take the book out
of time and space it would mean that all books which have existed,
exist now, and will exist, exist together, i. e., occupy one and the
same place and exist simultaneously, fonning as it were one book
which includes within itself the properties, characteristics and
peculiarities of all books possible in the world. When we say simply,
a book, we have in mind something possessing the common char-
acteristic of all books-this is a concept. -But that book about
which we are talking now, possesses not only these common char-
acteristics but the individual_characteristics of all separate
books.
Let us take other things-a table, a house, a tree, a man. Let
us imagine them out of time and space. The mind will have to
open its doors to objects each possessing such an enormous, such
an infinite number of signs and characteristics that to comprehend
them by means of the reason is absolutely impossible. And if one
wants to comprehend them by his reason he will certainly be
forced to dismember these objects somehow, to take them at
first in some one sense, from one side, in one section of their
being. What is "man" out of space and time? He is all humanity,
h " ''' H S . b h .
man as t e speCIes - OTnQ apzens,. ut at t e same tIme
possessing the characteristics, peculiarities and individual ear-
marks of all separate men. This is you, and I, and Julius Caesar
and the conspirators who killed him, and the newsboy I pass
every day-all kings, all slaves, all saints, all sinners-<aIl taken
together, fused into one indivisihle being of a man, like a great
living tree in which are bark, wood, and dry twigs; green leaves

THE ETERN AL RETURN 121
flowers -and fruit. Is it possible to conceive of and understand
such a being by our reason?
The idea of such a "great being" inspired the artist or artists who
created the Sphinx.

But what is motion? Why do we feel it if it does not exist?
About this last, Mabel Collins, a theosophical writer of the first
period of modern theosophy, writes very beautifully in her poet-
ical Story of the Year.

. . . The entire true meaning of the earthly life consists only in the
mutual contact between personalities and in the efforts of growth. Those
things which are called events and circumstances and which are regarded
as the real contents of life-are in reality only the conditions which make
these contacts and this growth possible.

In these words there sounds already quite a new under-
standing of the real. And 'truly the illusion of motion cannot arise
out of nothing. When we are travelling by train, and the trees
are running, overtaking one another, we know that this motion is
an illusory one, that the trees are immobile, and that the illusion
of their motion is created by our own.
As in these particular cases, so also in general as regards all
motian in the material world, the foundation of which the
"positivists" consider to be motion in the finest particles of matter,
we, recognizing this motion as an illusory one, will ask: Is not an
illusion of this motion created by some motion inside our con-
sciousness?
So it will be.
And having established this, we shall endeavor to define what
kind of motion is going on inside our consciousness, i. e., what is
moving relatively to what?
H. P. Blavatsky, in her first book, Isis Unveiled, touched
upon the same question concerning the relation of life to time and
motion. She writes:

As our planet revolves every year around the sun and at the same time
turns once in every twenty-four hours upon its own axis, thus travers-

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

ing minor cycles within a larger one, so is the work of the smaller cyclic
periods aC{:omplished and recommenced.
The revolution of the physical world, according to the ancient
octrine, is
attended by a like revolution in the world of intellect-the spiritual evolu-
tion of the world proceeding in cycles, like the physical one.
Thus we see in history a regular alternation of ebb and flow in the tide
of human progress. The great kingdoms and empires of the world, after
reaching the culmination of their greatness, descend again in accordance
with the same law by which they ascended; till, having reached the lowest
point, humanity reasserts itself and mounts up once more, the height of its
attainment being, by this law of ascending progression by cycles, somewhat
higher than the point from which it had before descended.
The division of the history of mankind into Golden, Silver, Copper and
Iron Ages, is not a fiction. We see the same thing in the literature of
peoples. An age of great inspiration and unconscious productiveness is
invariably followed by an age of criticism and consciousness. The one
affords material for the analyzing and critical intellect of the other.
Thus all those great characters who tower like giants in the history of
mankind, like Buddha.Siddartha, and Jesus, in the realm of spiritual, and
Alexander the Macedonian and Napoleon the Great, in the realm of phyei-
cal conquests, were but reflexed images of human types which had existed
ten tbousand years before, in the preceeding decimiIlennium, reproduced
by tbe mysterious powers controlling the destinies of our world. There
is no prominent character in all the annal's of sacred or profane history
wbose prototype we cannot find in the half-fictitious and half. real tradi-
tions of bygone religions and mythologies. As the star, glimmering at
an immeasurable distance above our heads, in the boundless immensity of
the sky, reflects itself in the smooth waters of a lake, so does the imagery
of men of the antediluvian ages reflect itself in the periods we can embrace
in an historical retrospect.
As above, so below. That which has been will return again. As in
heaven, so on earth.

Anything that can be said about the understanding of tem-
poral relations is inevitably ex.tremely vague. This is because
our language is absolutely inadequate to the spatial expression
of temporal relations. We lack the necessary words for it, we have
no verbal forms, strictly speaking, for the expression of these
relations whch are new to us, and some other quite new forms-
not verbal-are indispensable. The language for the transmission
of the new temporal relations must be a language without verbs.
New parts of speech are necessary, an infinite number of new words.
At present, in our human language we can speak about "time"
by hints only. Its true essence is inexpre3sible for us.

THE INEXPRESSIBILITY OF TRUTH 123
We should never forget about this inexpressibility. This is the
sign of the truth, the sign of reality. That which can be expressed,
oannot be true.
All systems dealing with the relation of the human soul to
time--all ideas of post-mortem existence, the theory of re-
incarnation, that of the transmigration of souls, of karma-are
symbols, trying to transmit relations which cannot be expressed
directly because of the poverty and the weakness of our language.
They should not be understood literally any more than it -is possible
to understand the symbols and allegories of art literally. It is
necessary to search for their hidden meanings, that which cannot
be expressed in words.
The literal understanding of these symbolical fonns in certain
lines of contemporary literature, and the union with them of ideas
of "evolution" and "morals" taken in the most narrow, dualistic
meaning, completely disfigures the inner content of these fonns,
and deprives them of their value and meaning.

CHAPTER XI

Science and the problem of the fourth dimension. The address of Prof.
N. A. Oumoff before the Mendeleevskian Convention in 1911-
"The Characteristic Traits and Problems of Contemporary Scientific
Thought." The new physics. The electro-magnetic theory. The
principle of relativity. The works of Einstein and Minkowsky.
Simultaneous existence of the past and the future. The Eternal Now.
Van Manen's book about occult experiences. The drawing of a
four-dimensional figure.

S PEAKING generally with regard to the problems propounded
in the foregoing chapters-those of time, .space, and the
higher dimensions-it is impossible not to dwell once more
upon the relation of science to these problems. To many persons
the relation of "exact science" to these questions which undoubtedly
constitute the most important problem now engaging human thought
appears highly enigmatical.
If it is important why does not science deal with it? And why,
on the contrary, does science repeat the old, contradictory affirma-
tions, pretending not to know or not to notice an entire series of
theories and hypotheses advanced?
Science should be the investigation of the unknown. Why, there-
fore, is it not anxious to investigate this unknown, which has been
in process of revelation for a long time-which soon will cease to
be the unknown?
It is possible to answer this question only by acknowledging
that unfortunately official, academic science is doing hut a small
part of what it should be doing in regard to the investigation of
the new and unknown. For the most p,art, it is only teaching
that which has already become the commonplace of the independ-
ent thinker; or still worse, has already become antiquated and re-
jected as valueless.
So it is the more pleasant to remark that even in science may
sometimes be discerned an aspiration toward the search of new
horizons of thought; or, to put it differently, not always and not in
124

PRO F. 0 U M 0 F F ' SAD D RES S 125
all the academic routine, with its obligatory repetition of an endless
number of commonplaces, has the love of knowledge and the power
of independent thinking been crowded out.
Although timidly and tentatively, science, through its boldest
represenatives, in the last few decades has after all been touching
upon the problems of higher dimensions, and in such cases has
arrived .at results almost identical with those propounded in the
preceding chapters.
In December, 1911, the second Mendeleevskian Convention *
was opened by the address of Prof. N. A. Oumoff, dedicated to the
problems of time and higher dimensions under the title, The Charac-
teristic Traits and Problems of Contemporary Nmural-Scientific
Thought.
The address of Prof. Oumoff, though not altogether outJspoken,
was nevertheless an event of great importance in the history of the
development of exact science, and some time it will doubtless be
recognized as an unusually bold and brilliant attempt to come for-
ward and proclaim absolutely new ideas which practically renounce
all positivism: and in the very citadel of positivism which the Men-
deleevskian Convention represents.
But inertia and routine of course did their work. Prof.Oumoff's
address was heard along with the other addresses, was printed in the
Proceedings of the Convention, and there rested, without producing
at all the impression of an exploded bomb that it should have pro-
duced had the listeners been more in a position to appreciate its true
meaning and significance, and-more important-had they the
desire to do so.
In this diminution of its significance the reserves and limitations
which Prof. Oumoff himself made in his address assisted to a degree,
as did the title, in failing to express its substance and general ten-
dency, which was to show that science goes now in a new direction,
and one which is not in reality-i. e., that the new direction goes
against science.
Professor Oumoff died in 1916, and I am unwilling to impose
upon him thoughts which he did not share. I talked with him in
January,"1912, and from our conversation I saw that he was stopping
half way, as it were, between the ideas of the fourth dimension approx-
· A convention of Russian scientists, n.amed in honor of the famous Russian chemist,
Prof. Mendeleeyeff. Transl.

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

imating those expressed by me in the first edition of Tertium Organum
and those physical theories which still admit motion as an independ-
ent fact. What I wish to convey is that Prof. Oumoff, admitting time
as being the fourth dimension of space, did not regard motion as the
illusion of our consciousness, but recognized the reality of motion
in the world, as a fact independent of us and of our psyche.
I speak of this, because later I shall quote extracts from Prof.
Oumoff's paper, choosing generally those places containing the ideas
almost identical with the thoughts expressed in the preceding chapters.
That part of the address which pictures the evolution of modern
physics from the atom to the electron I shall omit, because this
seems to me somewhat artificially united to those ideas upon which
I wish to dwell, and is not inwardly connected with them at all.
From my standpoint it is immaterial whether we make the
foundation of matter the atom or the electron. I believe that at
the foundation of matter lies illusion, or, in other words, a form of
perception. And the consistent development of those ideas of higher
space which Prof. Oumoff made the basis of his address leads, in my
opinion, to the negation of nwtion; just as the consistent development
of the ideas of mathematical physics has led to the negation of matter
as substance.
Having mentioned electrons, I may add that there is a method
whereby modern scientific ideas and the data of the psychological
method may be reconciled; namely, by the aid of the very ancient
systems of the Kabal(1) Alchemy and so forth, which establish
the foundation of the material world in four principles or elements,
of which the first two-fire and water-correspond to the positive
and negative electrons of modern physics.
But in such case the electrons must be regarded, not simply as
electro-magnetic units, but as principles, i. e., as two opposite
aspects or phases constituting the world.
Prof. Oumoff's address is interesting and remarkable in that
he stands already on the very threshold of metaphysics, and he is per-
haps hindered from entering only by a lingering faith in the value
of the positivistic method, which dies when the new watch-words of
science are declared.

The introductory word to our forthcoming labors [says Prof. Oumoff]
it will be most proper to dedicate to the excursions of scientific thought

THE CREDO OF THE SCIENTIST 127
in its Beach for the image of the world. The necessity for scientific re-
search along this path will become clear if we will turn to the covenants
of our high priests of science. These covenants convey the deep motives
of active service to natural science and to men. It is useful to express
them in our time, wherein thought is preeminently directed to the ques-
tions of the organization of life. Let us remember the credo of the natural
scientist:
To establish the authority of man over energy, time and space:
To know the architecture of the universe, and in this knowledge to find
a basis of creative foresight. This foresight inspires confidence that
natural science continuing the great and responsible work of creation in
the fields of nature which it has already made its own, will not fail to enter
a new field adapted to the enlarged necessities of mankind.
This new nature has become a vital necessity of personal and public
activity. But its grandeur and power summon the mind as it were to
tranquillity.
The demand for stability in the household and the brevity of the per-
sonal experience in comparison with the evolution of the earth lead men
to faith, and create in them an image of the durability of the surrounding
order of things not for the present only, but for the future. The pioneers
of natural science do not enjoy such a serene point of view, and to this
circumstance the natural sciences are indebted for their continuous de-
velopment. I venture to lift the brilliant and familiar veil and throw open
the sanctuaries of scientific thought, now poised upon the summit of two
contrasted contemplations of the world.
The steersman of science shall be ceaselessly vigilant, despite the felic-
ity of his voyage; above him shall invariably shine the stars by which he
finds his way upon the ocean of the unknown.
At the time in which we are living now the constellations in the skies of
our science have changed, and a new star has flashed out, having no equal
to itself in brightness.
Persistent scientific investigation has expanded the volume of the know-
able to dimensions which could scarcely be imagined only a short time
-fifteen or twenty years-ago. Number remains, as before, the lawmaker
of nature, but, being capable of representation, it has escaped from that
mode of contemplating the world which regarded as possible its representa-
tion by mechanical models.
This augmentation of knowledge gives a sufficient number of images for
the construction of the world, but they destroy its architecture as that is
known to us, and create as it were a new order, extending far, in its free
lines, beyond the limits not onty of the old visible world, but even beyond
the fundamental forms of our thinking.
I have now to lead you to the summits from which open the per-
spectives that are re-forming the very basis of our understanding of the
world.
The ascent to them amid the ruins of classical physics is attended with

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no small difficulty, and I ask in advance your indulgence and shall ex-
ercise all my efforts to simplify and shorten our path as far as possible.
Prof. Oumoff proceeds to picture the evolution of form "'from the atom
to the electron," from materialistic and mechanistic ideas about the universe
to the electro-magnetic theory.
The axioms of mechanics are only fragments, and their application may
be compared to the judgment oonceming the contents of an entire chapter

y means of a single sentence.
Therefore it is not strange that the attempt of the mechanistic explana.
tion of the properties of the electro-magnetic ether by the aid of axioms in
which these properties were either denied or one-sidedly predetermined
was doomed to failure. . . .
The mechanistic contemplation of the world appeared as one-sided. . . .
In the image of the world, unity was not in evidence. The electro-magnetic
world could not remain as something quite alien, unrelated to matter.
The material mode of contemplating the world, with its fixed formube, had
no sufficient flexibility to bring about unification through it and its prin-
ciples. There remained only one way out-to sacrifice one of the worlds
-the material, the mechanisti
, or the electro.magnetic. It was necessary
to find sufficient foundations for decision on the one side or on the other.
These were not slow to appear.
The consequent development of physics is a process against matter, which
ended with its expulsion. But along with this negative activity has gone
the creative work of the reformation of electro-magnetic symbolics; it was
forced to become adequate to express the properties of the material world:
its atomic structure, inertia, radiation and absorption of energy, electro.
magnetic phenomena. . . .
. . . On the horizon of scientific thought was arising the electronic theory
of matter.
Through electrical corpuscles was opening the connection between matter
and vacuum. . . .
. . . The idea of a special substratum filling the vacuum-ether-became
superfluous.
. . . Light and heat are born by the motion of electrons. They are
the suns of microcosms.
. . . The universe consists of positive and negative corpuscles, bound by
electro-magnetic fields.
Matter disappeared; its variety was replaced by a system of mutually reo
lated electric corpuscles and instead of the accustomed material world
one deeply different-the electro-magnetic world-is envisaging itself to
us. . . .
But the recognition of the electro-magnetic world did not annihilate
many unsolved problems and difficulties, and the necessity for a general-
izing system was felt.
In our difficult ascent we have reached the point [according to Prof.
Oumoft'] at which the road divides. One stretches horizontally to that plane

THE THEOR Y OF RELA TIVITY 129
which has been pictured, another goes to the high summit which is already
visible, and the grade is not steep.
Let us look about us at the point which we have reached. It is very
dangerous; not one theory only has suffered wreck there. It is the more
dangerous that its subtlety is covered by the mask of simplicity. Its basis
is the experimental attempts which gave a negative answer to the researches
of careful and skilled experimenters.
Prof. Oumoff shows the contradictions which were the outcome of certain
experiments. The necessity to explain these contradictions served as the
incentive to the discovery of the unifying principle: this was the principle
oj relativity.
The deductions of Lorentz, which were made in 1909, and which in
general had in view electro-optical phenomena only, gave the impetus to
the promulgation by Albert Einstein of a new principle and to its remark-
able generalization by the recently deceased Hermann Minkowsky.
We are approaching the summit of modern physics. It is occupied by
the principle of relativity, the expression of which is so simple that it is
difficult to discern its all-important significance. It asserts that the laws
of phenomena in the system of bodies for the observer who is connected
with it, will be the same, whether this system is at rest, or is moving uni-
formly and rectilinearly.
Hence it follows that the observer cannot detect by the aid of the
phenomena which are proceeding in the system of bodies with which he
is connected, whether this system has a uniform translational motion or
not.
Thus we cannot detect from any phenomena proceeding on the earth,
its translational motion in space.
The principle of relativity includes the 'Observing intellect within itself,
which is a circumstance of extraordinary significance. The intellect is
connected with a complex physical instrument-the nervous system.
This principle therefore gives directions concerning things proceeding in
moving bodies, not only in relation to physical and chemical phenomena,
but also in relation to the phenomena of life and therefore to the quests
of man. It is remarkable as an example of a thesis, founded upon striol:ly
scientific experiment, in a purely physical region, which erects a bridge
between two worlds usually regarded as quite distinct.
Prof. Oumoff gives examples of the explanation of complex phenomena
by the aid of the principle of relativity.
He shows further how the most enigmatical problems of life are ex-
plained from the standpoint of the electro-magnetic theory and the prin-
ciple of relativity, and he comes at last to that which is the most interest-
ing to us.
Time is involved in all spatial measurements. * We cannot define the
geometricalJorm oj a solid moving in relation to us; we are alwmys de-
.-Italicized by me. P.Ouspensky.

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fining its kinematical form. Therefore our spatial measurements are in
reality proceeding not in a three-dimensional manifold, i. e., having three
dimensions, of height, length and width, like this hall; but in a lour.dimen-
sional manifold: the first three dimensions we can represent by the divi-
sions of a tape-measure upon which are marked feet, yards, or some other!
measure oj length; the fourth dimension we will represent by the film 0/
a cinematograph upon which each point corresponds to a new phase of the
world's phenomena.. The distances between the points of this film are
measured by a clock going indifferently with this or that velocity. One ob.
server will measure the distance bettveen two points by a year-another by
a hundred years. The transition from one point to another of this film
corresponds to our concept of the flow of time. This fourth dimension we
will call, therefore, time. The film of a cinematograph can replace the:
reel of any tape-measure, and contrariwise. The ingenious mathematician,
MinkC!wsky, who died too young, proved that all these four dimensions are
equivalent. How shall tve comprehend this? Persons who arrive in St.
Petersburg from MoscO<JV have passed through Tver. They are not at this
station (Tver) any longer, but nevertheless it continues to exist. In the
same manner, that moment of time corresponding to some event which has
already passed-the beginning oj life on earth, for example-has not dis-
appeared, it exists still. It is not outlived by the universe, but only by the
earth. The place of this event is defined by a certain point in the four-
dimensional universe and this point existed, is existing, and will exist:
now through it, through this station passed by the earth, passes another
wanderer. Time does not flow, any more than space flows. It is we who
are flowing, wanderers in a four-dimensional universe. Time is just the
same measurement of space as is length, breadth and height. Having
changed them in the expression of some law of nature we are returning
to the identical law.
These new concepts are embodied by Minkowshy in an elegant mathemat-
ical theory; we shall not enter the magnificent temple erected by his genius,
from which proceeds this voice:
"In nature all is given: for her the past and future do not exist: she is tire
eternal present: she has no limits, eithet of space or of time. Changes are
proceeding in individuals and correspond to their displacements upon
world-warys in a four-dimensional eternal and limitless manifold.
These concepts in the region of philosophical thought will produce a revolu-
tion considerably greater than that caused by the displacement of the earth.
from the centre oj the universe by Copernicus." From the times of Newton
to those of natural science, more brilliant perspectives have never opened
up. Is not the power of natural science proclaimed in the transition
from the undoubted experimental fact-the impossibility of the absolute
motion of the earth-to a problem of the soul! A contemporary
philosopher exclaimed in his confusion, "beyond truth and falsehood."
When the cult of a new God is born his word is not perfectly under-
stood; the true meaning only becomes clear after the lapse of time. I

THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC THEOR Y 131
think that this is true also as regards the principle of relativity. The
elimination of anthropomorphism from scientific conceptions was of
enormous service to science. On the same path stands the principle of
relativity showing the dependence of our observations on general condi-
tions of phenomena.
The electro-magnetic theory of the world (and the principle of rela-
tivity) explains only those phenomena the place of which is defined by
that part of the universe which is occupied by matter; the rest of it,
which presents itself to our senses as a vacuum remain
as yet beyond
the reach of science. But at the shores of the material world is change-
lessly dashing the surf of new energy from that deep ocean empty for
our senses, but not for our reason.
Is not this dualism of matter and vacuum the anthropomorphism of
science, and the last one? Let us put the fundamental question: What
part of the universe is filled by matter? Let us surround our planetary
system with a sphere the radius of which is equal to half of the distance
fom the sun to the nearest stars: the length of this radius is traversed
by a light-ray in one and a half years. The volume of this sphere let
us take as the volume of the world. Let us now describe, with the sun
as a centre, another, lesser sphere with a radius equal to the distance of
our sun to the outermost planet. I admit that the matter of our world,
collected in one place, will not take more than one-tenth of the volume of
the planetary sphere: Ii think that this figure is considerably exaggerated.
After calculations of volume it will appear that in our world the volume
occupied by the matter will be related to the volume of the vacuum as
the figure 1 to the number represented by the figure 3 with 13 zeros.
This relation is equivalent to the relation of one second to one million
years.
According to the calculations of Lord Kelvin, the density of matter cor-
responding to such a relation would be less than the density of water by
ten thousand million times, i. e., it would be in an extreme degree of rare-
faction. . . .
Prof. Oumoff gives the example of such a number of balls as corre-
spond to the number of seconds in one million years. Upon one of these
balls (corresponding to the matter in the universe) is written all that we
know, because all that we know is related to matter. And matter is only
one ball among millions and millions of ".balls of vacuum."
This is his conclusion; says he:
Matter represents a highly improbable fact in the universe. This event
came into existence because small probability does not mean impossibility.
But where, and in what manner, are realized more probable events? Is
it not in the domain of radiant energy?
The theory of probability includes the immense part of the universe-
the vacuum-in the world of becoming. We know that radiant energy
possesses the preponderating mass. Among the different phenomena in
the world of in,ter-crossing rays, out of elements attracting one another are
not the tiny fragments born which by their congregation compose our

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material world? Is not the vacuum the laboratory matter? The material
world corresponds to that limited horizon which is open to a man who
has come out into a field. To his senses life is teeming only within the
limits of this horizon; outside of it for the senses of man there is only a
vacuum.

I do not desire to start a polemic about those thoughts in Prof.
Oumoff's address with which I do not agree. Yet I shall mention
and enUnierate the questions which in my opinion are raised hy the
incompatibility of certain principles.
The contrast between the vacuum and the material world sounds
almost naive after the just quoted words of Minkowsky concerning
the necessity of a transfer of attention, on the part of science, from
purely physical problems to questions of consciousness. Moreover
I do not see any fundamental difference between the material, the
mechanical, and the electro-magnetic universe. All this is three-
dimensional. In the electro-magnetic universe there is as yet no
true transition to the fourth dimension. And Prof. Oumoff makes
only one clear attempt to hind the electro-magnetic world with the
higher dimensions. He says:

That sheet of paper, written in electro-magnetic symbols, with which
we covered the vacuum, it is possible to regard as billions of separate
superimposed sheets, but of which each one represents the field of one
small electric quantity or charge.

But this is all. The rest is just as three-dimensional as the theory
of atoms and the ether.
"We are present at the funeral of the old physics," says Prof.
Oumoff, and this is true. But the old physics is losing itself and
disappears not in the electro-magnetic theory, hut in the idea of a
new dimension of space which up to the present has been called
time and motion.
Truly, the new physics will be that in which there will he no
motion, i. e., there will be no dualism of rest and motion, and no
dualism of matter and vacuum.
Understanding the universe as thought and consciousness we com-
pletely divorce ourselves from the idea of a vacuum. And from
this standpoint is explained the small probability of matter to which

AN OCCULT EXPERIENCE 133
Prof. Oumoff referred. Matter, i. e., everything finite, is an illusion
in an infinite world.*
Among many attempts at the psychological investigation of the
fourth dimension I shall note one in the book by Johan Van Manen,
Some Occult Experiences.
In this book is a remarkable drawing of a four-dimensional fig-
ure which the author "saw" by means of his inner vision. This
interesting experience Van Manen describes in the following way:
When residing and touring in the North of England, several years ago,
I talked and lectured several times on the fourth dimension. One day
after having retired to bed, I lay fully awake, thinking out some problems
connected with this subjecL I tried to visualize or think out the shape
of a four-dimensional cube, which I imagined to be the simplest four-
dimensional shape. To my great astonishment I saw plainly before me
first a four-dimensional globe and afterwards a four-dimensional' cube,
and learned only then from this object-lesson that the globe is the sim-
plest body, and not the cube, as the third.dimensional anal'ogy ought to
have told me beforehand. The remarkable thing was that the definite en-
deavor to see the one thing made me see the other. I saw the form8 as be-
fore me in the air (though the room was dark), and behind the forms I
saw clearly a rift in the curtains through which a glimmer of light filtered
into the room. This was a case in which I can clearly fix the impression
that the objects seen were outside my head. In most of the other cases
I could not say so definitely, as they partake of a dual character, being
almost equally felt as outside and inside the brain.
I forego the attempt to describe the fourth-dimensional cube as to its
form. Mathematical description would be possible, but would at the
.ame time disintegrate the real impression in its totality. The fourth-
dimensional globe can be better described. It was an ordinary three-
dimensional globe, out of -which, on each. side, beginning at its vertical
circumference, bent, tapering horns proceeded,
which, with a circular bend, united their points
above the globe from which they started. The
effect is best indicated by circumscribing the
numeral 8 by a circle. So three circles are formed,
the lower one representing the initial globe, the
upper one representing empty space, and the greater
circle circumbscribing the whole. If it be now
understood that the upper circle does not exist and
the lower (small) circle is identical' with the outer
U'arge) circle, the impression will have been conveyed, at least to some
extent.
· The works on Relativity by Dr. A. Einstein make possible a more thorough acquaint-
ance with the scientific (physical) treatment of this subject.

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I have always been easily able to recall this globe; to recall the cube
is far more difficult, and I have to concentrate to get it back.
I have in a like manner had rare visions of the fifth and sixth-dimensional
figures. At least I have felt as if the figures I saw were fifth- and sixth-
dimensional. In these matters the greatest caution is necessary. I am
aware that I have come into contact with these things as far as the physical
brain allows it, without denying that beyond what the brain has caught
there was something further, felt at the time, which was not handed on.
the sixth.dimensional figure I cannot describe. All I remember of it is
that it gave me at the time an impression in form of what we might call
diversity in unity, or synthesis in differentiation. The fifth-dimensional
vision is best described, or rather hinted at, by saying that it looked like
an Alpine relief map, with the singularity that all mountain peaks and
the whole landscape represented in the map were one mountain, or again
in other words as if all the mountains had one single base. This was the
difference between the fifth and the sixth, that in the fifth the excres-
cences were in one sense exteriorized and yet rooted in the same unit;
but in the sixth they were differentiated but not exteriorized; they were
only in different wars identical with the same base, which was their
whole.

c. W. Leadbeater on a note to these remarkable pages says:

Striking as this drawing is, its value lies chiefly in its suggestiveness
to those who have once seen that which it represents. One can hardly
hope that it will convey a clear idea of the reality to those who have never
seen it. It is difficult to get an animal to understand a picture-ap-
parently because he is incapable of grasping the idea that perspective on
a flat surface is intended to represent objects which he knows only as
solid. The average man is in exactly the same position with regard to
any drawing or model which is intended to suggest to him the idea of
the fourth dimension; and so, clever and suggestive as this is,
doubt
whether it will be of much help to the average reader.
The man who has seen the reality might well be helped by this to bring
into his ordinary life a flash of that higher consciousness; and in that case
he might perhaps be able to supply, in his thought, what must necessarily
be lacking in the physical-plane drawing. .

For my part, I may say that the true meaning of Van Manen's
"vision" is difficult even to appreciate with the means at our disposal.
After seeing the drawing in his book I at once felt and understood
aIi that it means, but I disagree somewhat with the author in the
interpretation of hi'S drawing. He says:
"We may also
all the total impression that of a ring. I think

THE FOUR-DIMENSION AL SPHERE 135
it was then that I understood for the first time that so-called fourth-
dimensional sight is sight with reference to a space-conception aris-
ing from the visual perception of density."
This remark though very cautions seems to me dangerous, be.
cause it creates the possibility of the same mistake which stopped
Hinton in many things and which I partly repeated in the first edi-
tion of the book The Fourth Dimension.* This mistake consists
in the possibility of the construction of some pseudo fourth dimen-
sion, which lies in reality completely in three dimensions. In
my opinion there is very much of motion in the figure. The entire
figure appears to me as a moving one, continuously generating itself,
as though it were at the point of contact of the acute ends, coming
from there and involving back there. But I shall not analyze and
comment upon Van Manen's experience now, leaving it to readers
who have had similar experiences.
So far as Van Manen's descriptions of his observations of the
"fifth" and "sixth" dimensions are concerned, it seems to me that
nothing in them warrants the supposition that they are related to
any region higher or more complex than the four-dimensional world.
In my opinion all these are just observations of the region of the
fourth dimension. But the -similarity to the experience of certain
mystics is very remarkable in them, especially those of Jacob Boehme.
Moveover the method of object-lesson is very interesting-i. e., those
two images which Van Manen saw and from the comparison of which
he deduced his ccnclusions.
· One of P. D. Ouspensky's books. Transl.

CHAPTER XII

Analysis of phenomena. What defines different orders of phenomena for
us? Methods and forms of the transition of one order of phenom-
ena into another. Phenomena of motion. Phenomena of life,
Phenomena of consciousness. The central question of our knowl-
edge of the world: what mode of phenomena is generic and produces
the others? Can the origin of everything lie in motion? The laws
of transformation of energy. Simple transformation and liberation
of latent energy. Different liberating forces of different orders of
phenomena. The force of mechanical energy, the force of a living
cell, the force of an idea. Phenomena and noumena of our world.

T HE order of phenomena is defined for us, first, by the method
of apprehending them, and second, by the form of the
transition of one order of phenomena into another.
According to our method of apprehending them and by the fonn
of their transition into one another we discern three orders of
phenomena:
Physical phenomena (i. e., all phenomena studied by physics and
chemistry); phenomena of life (all phenomena studied by biology
and its subdivisions); psychic phenomena (thoughts, feelings, sen-
sations, etc.).
We know physical phenomena by means of our sense organs or
by the aid of apparatus. Many recognized physical phenomena are
not observed directly; they are merely projections of the assumed
causes of our sensations, or those of the causes of other phenomena.
Physics recognizes the existence of many phenomena which have
never been observed by the sense organs or by means of apparatus
(the temperature of absolute zero etc., for example).
The phenomena of life, as such, are not observed directly. We
cannot project them as the cause of definite sensations. But eeJ;"-
tain groups of sensations force us to assume in certain groups of
physical phenomena the presence of the phenomena of life. It may
be said that a certain grouping of physical phenomena forces us to
assume the presence of the phenomena of life. We define the
cause of the phenomena of life 8S a something not capable of being
136

p s Y CHI CAN D PH Y SIC ALP HEN 0 MEN A 137
grasped by the senses or by apparatus, and incommensurable with
the causes of physical sensations. A sign of the presence of the
phenomena of life consists in the power of organisms to reproduce
themselves, i. e., the multiplication of them in the same forms, the
indivisibility of separate units and their especial adaptability, which
is not observed outside of life.
Psychic phenomena are the feelings and the thoughts that we
know in ourselves by direct sensation. We assume their existence
in others (1) from analogy with ourselves; (2) from their mani-
festation in actions and (3) from that which we gather by the aid of
speech. But, as has been shown by certain philosophical theories,
it is impossible to establish strictly objectively, the presence of con-
sciousness other than our own. A man establishes this usually be.
cause of his inner assurance of its truth.
Physical phenomena transform themselves into one another com-
pletely. It is possible to transform heat into light, pressure into
motion, etc. It is possible to produce any physical phenomenon
from other physical phenomena; to produce any chemical combina-
tion by the synthetic method, combining the composite parts in
proper proportions and under proper physical conditions. Modern
physics assumes electro-magnetic phenomena as the basis of all
physical phenomena. But physical phenomena do not transform
themselves into the phenomena of life. By no combination of phys-
ical conditions can science create life, just as by chemical synthesis
it cannot create living matter-protoplasm. We can tell what
amount of coal is necessary to generate the certain amount of heat
necessary to transform a given quantity of ice into water; but we
cannot tell what amount of coal is necessary to create the vital energy
with which one living cell forms another living cell. In similar
manner physical, chemical and mechanical phenomena cannot them-
selves produce the phenomena of consciousness, i. e., of thought.
Were it otherwise, a rotating wheel, after the expenditure of a certain
amount of energy, or after the lapse of a certain time, could gener-
ate an idea. Y e
we know perfectly well that the wheel can go on
rotating for millions of years, and no single idea will be produced
by it at all. Thus we see that the phenomena of motion differ in
a fundamental way from the phenomena of life and of consciousness.
The phenomena of life change into other phenomena of life, mul-
tiply infinitely, and transform themselves into physical phenomena,

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generating whole series of mechanical and chemical combinations.
The phenomena of life manifest themselves to us in physical phe-
nomena, and in the existence of such phenomena.
Psychic phenomena are sensed dir
tly, and having enormous po-
tential force, transform themselves into physical phenomena and into
manifestations of life. We know that at the basis of our procrea-
tive force lies desire--that is, a psychical state, or a phenomenon of
consciousness. Desire is possessed of enormous potential force.
Out of the united desire of a man and of a woman, a whole nation
may come into being. At the root of the active, constructive, crea-
tive force of man, that can change the course of rivers, unite oceans,
cut through mountains, lies desire, i. e., again a psychical state, or a
phenomenon of consciousness. Thus psychic phenomena possess
even greater unifying force with relation to physical phenomena
than do the phenomena of life.
Positive philosophy affirms that all three orders of phenomena
proceed from one cause lying within the sphere of the study of
physics. This cause is called by different names at different times,
but it is assumed to be identical with physical energy in general.
Seriously analyzing such an affirmation, it is easily seen to be
absolutely arbitrary, and not founded upon anything. Physical
phenomena of themselves, inside the limits of our existence and
observation, never create the phenomena of life and the phenomena
of consciousness. Consequ
ntly we may with greater right assume
that in the phenomena of life and in the phenomena of conscious-
ness there is something which does not exist in physical phenomena.

Moreover, we cannot measure physical, biological, and psychic
phenomena by the same unit of measurement. Or more correctly,
we cannot measure the phenomena of life and the phenomena of
consciousness at all. It is only the phenomena first mentioned, i. e.,
the physical, that we fancy we can measure, though this is very
doubtful, too.
In any case we undoubtedly know that we can express neither the
phenomena of life nor psychic phenomena in the formulre of physi-
cal phenomena; and generally speaking we have for them no for-
mulre at all.

THE LIB ERA T ION 0 F FOR C E S 139
In order to clarify the relation between phenomena of different
kinds, let us examine in detail the laws of their transfonnation one
into another.
First of all it is necessary to consider physical phenomena, and
make a detailed study of the conditions and properties of their trans-
formation one into another.
In an essay on Wundt (TIu! Northern Messenger, 1888) A. L.
Volinsky, elucidating the principles of Wundt's physiological psy-
chology, says:

The actions of sensation are provoked by the actions of irritation. But
both these actions need not be at all equal. It is possible to burn a whole
city by a spark from a cigarette. It is necessary to understand why this
is possible. Place a board upon the edge of some object scalewise, SO
that it will balance. On both ends of the board put now an equal amount
of weight. The weights will not fall: although both of them will tend to
fall, they balance one another. If we lift the least weight from one end
of the board, then the other end will overbalance, and the board will fall
-i. e., the force of gravity which existed before as an invisible tendency,
will have become a visible motive force. If we put the board and weights
on the earth, the force of gravity will not produce any action, but it will
not be eliminated: it will only transform itself into other forces.
Those forces which are only striving to produce motion are called con-
strained, or dead, forces. The forces which are actually manifesting them-
selves in certain definite actions are called free, or live forces; but as
regards free forces it is necessary to differentiate those forces which are
liberating, setting free, from the forces which are liberated, or set free.
An enormous difference exists between the liberation of a force and its
,ransformation into another.
When one kind of motion transforms itself into another kind, the amount
of free force remains the same; and contrariwise, when one force liberates
another, the amount of free force changes. The free force of an irritation
liberates the tied-up forces of a nerve. And this liberation of tied-up forces
is proceeding at each point of the nerve. The first motion increases like
a fire, like a snow-slide carrying along with it new and ever new drifts.
It is for this reason that the action (phenomenon) of sensation need not be
exactly equal to the action of irritation.

Let us look more broadly at the relation between liberated and
liberating forces in the different kinds of phenomena.
We shall discover that sometimes an almost negligible amount
of physical force may liberate an enormous, a colossal amount of
physical energy. But all that we can ever assemble of physical

140

TERTIUM ORGANUM

force is powerless to liberole a single iota of that vital energy
necessary for the independent existence of a single mi
roscopic
living organism.
The force contained in living organisms, the vital force, is ca-
pable of liberating infinitely greater amounts of vital and also of
physical energy than the force of motion.
The microscopic living cell is capable of infinite dissemination,
to evolve new species, to cover continents with vegetation, to fill the
oceans with seaweed, to build islands out of coral, to deposit power-
ful layers of coal, etc., etc.
Concerning the latent energy contained in the phenomena of con.
sciousness, i. e., in thoughts, feelings, desires, we discover that its
potentiality is even more immeasurable, more boundless. From
personal experience, from observation, from history, we know that
ideas, feelings, desires, manifesting themselves, can liberate enor-
mous quantities of energy, and create infinite series of phenomena.
An idea can act for centuries and millenniums and only grow and
deepen, evoking ever new series of phenomena, liberating ever fresh
energy . We know that thoughts continue to live and act when even
the very name of the man who created them has been converted into
a myth, like the names of the founders of ancient religions, the
creators of the immortal poetical works of antiquity-heroes,
leaders, prophets. Their words are repeated by innumerable lips,
their ideas are studied and commented upon. Their preserved
works are translated, printed, read, studied, staged, illustrated.
And this is done not only with the masterpieces of men of genius,
but some single little verse may live millenniums, making hundreds
of men work for it, serve it, in order to transmit it further.
Observe how much of potential energy there is in some little
verse of Pushkin or Lermontoff. This energy acts not only upon the
feelings of men, but by reason of its very existence it acts upon their
will. See how vital and immortal are the words, thoughts and feel.
ings of half-mythical Homer-how much of "motion" each word
of his, during the time of its existence, has evoked.
Undoubtedly each thought of a poet contains enormous potential
force, like the power confined in a piece of coal or in a living cell,
but infinitely more subtle, imponderable and potent.
This remarkable correlation of phenomena may be expressed in
the following terms: the farther a given phenomenon is from the

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN PHENOMEN A 141
visible and sensed-from the physical, the farther it is from matter-
the more there is in it of hidden force, the greater the quantity of
phenomena it can produce, can leave in its wake, the greater amount
of energy it can liberate, and so the less it is dependent upon time.

If we would correlate all of the above with the principle of physics
that the amount of energy is constant, then we must state more ex-
actly that in the preceding discussion nothing has been said of the
creation of new energy, but of the liberation of latent force. And
we have found that the liberating force of life and thought is infin-
itely greater than the liberating force of mechanical motion and of
chemical reactions. The mkroscopic living cell is more powerful
than a volcano-the idea is more powerful thtm the geological cata.
clysm.
Having established these differences between phenomena, let us
endeavor to discover what phenomena themselves represent, taken
by themselves, independently of our receptivity and sensation of
them.
We at once discover that we know nothing about them.
We know a phenomenon just as much and just as far as it is
irritation, i. e., to the extent that it provokes sensation.
The positivistic philosophy sees mechanical motion or electro-
magnetic energy as the basis of all phenomena. But the hypothesis
of vibrating atoms or of units of energy-electrons and cycles of
motion, combinations of which create different "phenomena" -is
only an hypothesis, built upon a perfectly arbitrary and artificial
assumption concerning the existence of the world in time and space.
Just as soon as we discover that the conditions of time and space
are merely the properties of our sensuous receptivity, we absolutely
destroy the validity of the hypothesis of "energy" as the foundation
of everything; because time and space are necessary for energy,
i. e., it is necessary for time and space to be properties of the world
and not properties of consciousness.
Thus in reality we know nothing about the causes of phenomena.
We do know that .some combinations of causes, acting through
the organism upon our consciousness, produce the series of sensa-
tions which we recognize as a green tree. But we do not know if

142

TERTIUM ORGANUM

this perceptIon of a tree corresponds to the real substance of the
causes which evoked this sensation.
The question concerning the relation of the phenomenon to the
thing-in-itself, i. e., to the indwelling reality, has been from far back
t
e chief and most difficult concern of philosophy. Can we, study-
ing phenomena, get at the very cause of them, at the very substance
of things? Kant has said definitely: No!-by studying phenomena
we do not even approach to the understanding of things in themselves.
Recognizing the correctness of Kant's view, if we desire to approach
to an understanding of things in themselves, we must seek an en-
tirely different method, an utterly different path from that which
positive science, which studies phenomena, is treading.

CHAPTE.R XIII

The apparent and the hidden side of life. Positivism as the study of the
phenomenal side of life. Of what does the "two--dimensionality"
of positive philosophy consist? The regarding of everything upon
a single plane, in one physical sequence. The streams .which flow
underneath the eartb. What can the study of life, as a phenomenon,
yield? The artificial world which science erects for itself. The
unreality of finished and isolated phenomena. The new apprehen-
sion of the world.

T HERE exist visible and hidden causes of phenomena; there
exist also visible and hidden effects.
Let us consider some one example.
In all textbooks on the history of literature we are told that in its
time Goethe's Werther provoked an epidemic of suicides.
What did provoke these suicides?
Let us imagine that some "scientist" appears, who, being inter-
ested in the fact of the increase of suicides, begins to study the first
edition of Werther according to the method of exact,. positive science.
He weighs the book, measures it by the most precise instruments,
notes the number of its pages, makes a chemical analysis of the
paper and the ink, counts the number of lines on every page, the
number of letters, and even how many times the letter A is repeated,
how many times the letter B, and how many times the interrogation
mark is used, and so on. In other words he does everything that
the pious Mohammedan performs with relation to the Koran of
Mohammed, and on the basis of his investigations writes a treatise
on the relation of the letter A of the German alphabet to suicide.
Or let us imagine another scientist who studies the history of
painting, and deciding to put it on a scientific basis, starts a lengthy
series of analyses of the pigment used in the pictures of famous
painters in order to discover the causes of the different impressions
produced upon the beholder by different pictures.
Imagine a savage studying a watch. Let us admit that he is a
wise and crafty savage. He takes the watch apart and counts all
143

144

TERTIUM ORGANUM

its wheels and screW1S, counts the number of teeth in each gear,
finds out its size and thickness. The only thing that he does not
know is what all these things are for. He does not know that the
hand completes the circuit of the dial in half of twenty-four hours,
i. e., that it is possible to tell time by means of a watch.
All this is "positivism."
We are too familiar with "positivistic" methods, and so fail to
realize that they end in absurdities and that if we are seeking to
explain the meaning of anything, they do not lead to the goal at all.
The difficulty is that for the explanation of the meaning positivism
is of no use. For it nature is a closed book of which it studies the
appearance only.
In the matter of the study of the operations of nature, the positive
methods have achieved much, as is proven by the innumerable suc-
cesses of modern technics, including the conquest of the air. But
everything in the world has its own definite sphere of action. Pos-
itivism is very good when it seeks an answer to the question of how
something operates under given conditions; but when it makes the
attempt to get outside of its definite conditions (space, time, causa-
tion), or presumes to affirm that nothing exists outside of these given
conditions, then it is transcending its own proper sphere.
It is true that the more serious positive thinkers deny the possibil-
ity of including in "positive investigation" the question of why and
what for. But as a matter of fact the positive standpoint is not the
only possible one. The usual mistake of positivism consists in its
not seeing anything except itself-it either considers everything as
possible to it, or considers as generally impossible much that is en-
tirely possible, but not for positive inquiry.
Humanity will never cease to search, however, for answer to the
questions why, and wherefore.
The positivistic scientist finds himself in the presence of nature
almost in the position of a savage in a library of rare and valuable
books. For a savage a book is a thing of definite size and weight.
However long he may ask himself what purpose this strange thing
serves, he will never discover the truth from its appearance; and
the contents of the book will remain for him the incomprehensible
noumenon. In like manner the contents of nature are incomprehen-
sible to the positivistic scientist.
But if a man knows of the existence of the contents of the book....-

PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON 145
the noumenon of life-if he knows that a mysterious meaning is
hidden under visible phenomena, there is the possibility that in the
long run he will discover the contents.
For success in this it is necessary to grasp the idea of the inner
contents, i. e., the meaning of the thing in itself.
The scientist who discovers little tablets with hieroglyphics, or
wedge-shaped inscriptions in an unknown language, deciphers and
.reads them after great labor. And in order to accomplish this
he needs only one thing: it is necessary for him to know that these
little signs represent an inscription. As long as he regards the

simply as an ornament, as the outside embellishment of little tablets,
or as an accidental tracing without meaning-up to that time their
meaning and significance will be closed to him absolutely. But let
him only assume the existence of that meaning and the possibility
of its comprehension will be already within sight.
No secret cipher exists which cannot be solved without the aid
of any key. Bra it is necessary to know tlurt it is a cipher. This
is the first and necessary condition. Lacking this it is impossible
to accomplish anything.

The idea of the existence of the visible and the hidden sides of
life was known to philosophy long ago. Phenomena were regarded
as only one aspect of the world, and as being infinitely small com-
pared to the hidden aspect
seeming, not existing really, arising in
consciousness at the moment of its contact with the real world. An-
other side, noumena, was recognized as really existing in itself, but
inacceSiSible for our receptivity.
But there is no greater error than to regard the world as divided
into phenomena and noumena-to conceive of phenomena and nou-
mena apart from one another, and susceptible of being separately
known. This is philosophic illiteracy, which shows itself most
clearly in the dualistic spiritistic theories. The division into
phenomena and noumena exists only in our minds. The "phenom-
enal world" is simply our incorrect perception of the world.
As Carl DuPrel has said, "The world beyond is this world, only
perceived strangely." It would be more accurate to say, that this
world is the world beyond perceived strangely.

146

TERTIUM ORGANUM

Kant's idea is quite correct, that the study of the phenomenal
side of the world will not bring us any nearer to the understanding
of "things-in-themselves." The "thing-in-itself"-tbat is the thing
as it exists in itself, independently of us. The "phenomenon of the
tbing" -that is the thing in such semblance as we perceive it.
The example of a book in the hands of an illiterate savage shows
us quite clearly that it is sufficient not to know about the existence
of the noumenon of a thing (the contents of the book in this case)
in order that it shall not manifest itself in phenomena. On the
other hand, the knowledge of its existence is sufficient to make pos-
sible its discovery with the aid of the very phenomena which, with-
out the knowledge of the noumenon, would be perfectly useless.
Just as it is impossible for a savage to attain to an understanding
of the nature of a watch by a study of its phenomenal side-the num-
ber of wheels, and the number of teeth in each gear-so also for the
positivistic scientist, studying the external, manifesting side of life,
its secret raison d' etre and the aim of separate manifestations will be
forever hidden.
To the savage the watch will be an extremely interesting, com-
plicated, but entirely useless toy. Somewhat after this manner a
man appears to the scientist-materialist-a mechanism infinitely
more complex, but equally unknown as regards the purpose for
which it exists and the manner of its creation.
We pictured to ourselves how incomprehensible the functions of a
candle and of a coin would be for a plane-man, studying two similar
circles on his plane. In like manner the functions of a man are in
comprehensible to the scientist, studying him as a mechanism. The
reason for this is clear. It is because the coin and the candle are
not two similar circles, but two different objects, having an en-
tirely different use and meaning in that world which is relatively
higher than the plane-and man is not a mechanism, but something
having an aim and meaning in the world relatively higher than the
visible one.
The functions of a candle and of a coin in our world are for the
imaginary plane-man an inaccessible noumenon. It is evident that
the phenomenon of a circle cannot give any understanding of the
function of a candle, and its difference from the function of a coin.
But two-dimensional knowledge exists not alone on the plane.
Materialistic thought tries to apply it to real life. A curious result

"THE ECONOMIC MAN"

147

follows, the true meaning of which is, unhappily, incomprehensible
to many people. One of such applications is "the economic man"-
this is quite clearly the two-dimensional and flat being moving in
two directions-those of production and consumption-i. e., living
upon the plane of production-consumption. How is it possible to
imagine man in general as such an obviously artificial being? And
how is it possible to hope to understand the laws of the life of man,
with his complex spiritual aspirations and his great impulse to know,
to understand everything around about him and within himself-
by studying the imaginary laws of the imaginary being upon an im-
aginary plane? The inventors of this theory alone possess the
secret of the answer to this question. But the economic theory of
human life attracts men as do all simple theories giving a short an-
swer to a series of complicat
d questions. And we are ourselves
too entangled in materialistic theories to see anything beyond
them.

Positivistic science does not really deny the theory of phe1'J.omena
and noumena, it only affirms, in opposition to Kant, that in studying
phenomena we are gradually approaching to noumena. The nou-
mena of phenomena science considers to be the motion of atoms
and the ether, or the vibrations of electrons; it conceives of the
universe as a whirl of mechanical motion or the field of manifesta-
tion of electro-magnetic energy taking on the "phenomenal tint" for
us on their reception by the organs of sense.
"Positivism" affirms that the phenom
na of life and psychic phe-
nomena are simply the functions of physical phf;nomena, that with-
out physical phenomena the phenomena of life, thought and emo-
tion cannot exist and that they represent only certain complex com-
binations of the foregoing; and furthermore that all these three kinds
of phenomena are one and the same thing in substance-and the
higher, i. e., the phenomena of life and of consciousness, are only
different expressions of the lower, i. e., of one and the same physico-
mechanical or electro-magnetic energy.
But to all this it is possible to answer one thing. If it were true
it would have been proven long ago. Nothing is easier than to
prove the energeiic hypothesis of life and the psyche. Just create

148 TERTIUM ORGANUM
life and thought by the mechanical method. Materialism and ener-
getics are those "obvious" theories which cannot be true without
proofs, because they cannot not have proofs if they contain even a
little grain of truth.
But there are no proofs at the disposition of these theories; quite
the reverse: the infinitely greater potentiality of the phenomena
of life and the psyche compared with physical phenomena assures
us of the exact opposite.
The simple fact, above shown, of the enormous liberating, un-
binding force of psychic phenomena is sufficient to establish quite
really and firmly the problem of the world of the hidden.
And the world of the hidden cannot be the world of unconscious
mechanical motion, of unconscious development of electro-magnetic
forces. The positivistic theory admits the possibility of explain-
ing the higher through the lower, the invisible through the visible.
But it has been shown at the very beginning that this is the explan-
ation of one unknown by another unknown. There is still less justi-
fication for explaining the known through the unknown. Yet that
"lower" (matter and motion) through which the positivists strive to
explain the "higher" (life and thought) is itself unknown. Con-
sequently it is impossible to explain and define anything else in
terms of it, while the higher, i. e., the thought, this is our sole
known: it is this alone that we do know, that we are conscious of in
ourselves, that we can neither mistake nor doubt. And if thought
can evoke or unbind physical energy, and motion can never create
or unbind thought (out of a revolving wheel no thought ever arose)
so of course we sball strive to define, not the higher in terms of the
lower, but the lower in terms of the higher. If the invisible, like
the contents of a book or the purpose of a walch, defines by itself
the visible, so also we shall endeavor to understand not the visible,
but the invisible.
Starting from a false assumption concerning the mechanicality of
the noumenal side of nature, positive science, upon which the view
of the world of the intelligent majority of contemporary humanity
is founded, makes still another mistake in regard to cause and effect,
or the law of functions-that is, it mistakes what is cause, and what
is effect.

CHAINS OF PH EN OMEN A 149
Just as the two-dimensional plane-man thinks of all phenomena
touching his consciousness as lying o
one plane, so the positivistic
method strives to interpret upon one plane all phenomena of different
orders, i. e., to interpret all visible phenomena as the effects of ante-
cedent visible phenomena, and as the inevitable cause of subsequent
visible phenomena. In other words, it sees in causal and functional
interdependence merely phenomena proceeding upon the surface, and
studies the visible world, or the phenomena of the visible wodd,
not admitting that causes can enter into this world which are not
contained in it or that the phenomena of this world can possess
functions extending beyond it.
But this could be true only in case there were no phenomena of
life and of thought in the world, or if the phenomena of life and
thought were really derivatives from physical phenomena, and did
not possess infinitely greater latent force than they. Then only
should We have the right to consider the chains of phenomena in
their physical or visible sequence alone, as positivistic philosophy
does. But taking into consideration the phenomena of life and
thought we shall inevitably recognize that the chain of phenomena
often translates itself from a sequence purely physical to a biolog-
ical sequence, i. e., one in which there is much of the hidden and in-
visible to us-or to a psychical sequence where there is even more of
the hidden; but during reverse translations from biological and psy-
chical spheres into physical sequences actions proceed often, if not
always, from regions which are hidden from us; i. e., the cause of
the visible is the invisible. In consequence of this we must admit
that it is impossible to consider the chains of sequences in the world
of physical phenomena only. When such a sequence touches the life
of a man or that of a human society, we perceive clearly that it
escapes from the "physical sphere" and returns into it. Regarding
the matter from this standpoint we see that, just as in the life of one
man and in the life of a society there are many streams, at times
appearing on the surface and spouting up in boisterous torrents, and
at other times disappearing deep underground, hidden from view,
but only waiting for their moment to appear again on the surface,
so do we observe in the world continuous chains of phenomena and
we perceive how these chains shift from one order of phenomena
to another without a break. We observe how the phenomena of
consciousness-thoughts, feelings, desires-are accompanied by

150 T E R T I U M 0 R G A N U M
physiological phenomena-creating them perhaps-and inaugurate
a series of purely physical phenomena; and we see how physical
phenomena, becoming the object of sensations of sight, hearing,
touch, smell and the like, induce physiological phenomena, and
then psychological. But looking at life from that side, we see only
physical phenomena, and having assured ourselves that it is the
only reality we may not notice the others at all. Herein appears
the enormous power of suggestion in current ideas. To a sincere
positivist any metaphysical argument proving the unreality of matter
or energy seems sophistry. It strikes him as a thing unnecessary,
disagreeable, hindering a logical train of thought, an assault with-
out aim or meaning on that which in his opinion is firtnly established,
alone immutable, lying at the foundation of everything. He vexedly
fans away from himself all "idealistic" or "mystical" theories
as he would a buzzing mosquito.
But the fact is that thought and energy are different in substance
and cannot be one and the same thing, because they are different
sides of one and the same thing. For if we open the cranium of
a living man in order to observe all the vibrations of the cells of
the gray matter of the brain, and all the quivering white fibres,
in spite of everything there will be merely motion, i. e., the
manifestation of energy, and thought will remain somewhere beyond
the limits of investigation, retreating like a shadow at every ap-
proach. The "positivist," when he begins to realize this, feels that
the ground is quaking underneath his feet, feels that by his method
he will never approach to the thought. Then he sees clearly the
necessity for a new method. As soon as he begins to think about it
he begins quite unexpectedly to notice things around him which he
did not see before. His eyes begin to open to that which he did not
wish to see before. The walls which he had erected around him-
self begin to fall one after another, and behind the falling walls
infinite horizons of possible know,ledge, hitherto undreamed of,
unroll before him.
Thereupon he completely alters his view of everything surround-
ing him. He understands that the visible is produced by the in-
visible; and that without understanding the invisible it is impos-
sible to understand the visible. His "positivism" begins to totter
and, if he is a man with a bold thought, then in some splendid

KARMA

151

moment he will perceive those things which he was wont to regard
as real and true to be unreal and false, and those things regarded
as false to be real and true.
First of all he will see that manifested physical phenomena often
hide themselves, like a stream that has gone underground. Yet they
do not disappear altogether, but continue to exist in latent form
in some minds, in someone's memory, in the words or books of
someone, just as the future harvest is latent in the seeds. And
thereafter they again burst into light; out of this latent state they
come into an apparent one, making a roar, reverberation, motion.
We observe such transitions of the invisible into the visible in
the personal life of man, in the life of peoples, and in the history
of humanity. These chains of events go on continuously, inter-
weaving among themselves, entering one into another, sometimes hid-
den from our eyes, -and sometimes visible.
I find an admirable description of this idea in the chapter on
"Karma" in Light on the Path by Mabel CoIlins. *

Consider with me that the individual existence is a rope which stretches
from the infinite to the infinite, and has no end and no commencement,
neither is it capable of being broken. This rope is formed of innumer-
able fine threads, which, lying closely together, form its thickness. . . .
and remember that the threads are living-are like electric wires; more,
are like quivering nerves. . . .
But eventually the long strands, the living threads which in their un-
broken continuity form the individual, pass out of the shadow into the
shine. . . .
This illustration presents but a small portion-a single side of the
truth: it is l'ess than a fragment. Yet dwell on it; by its aid you may be
led to perceive more. What it is necessary first to understand is not that
the future is formed by any separate acts of the present, but that the
whole of the future is in unbroken continuity with the present, as the present
is with the past. In the plane, from one point of view, the illustration
of the rope is correcL

The passages quoted show us that the idea of karma, developed
in remote antiquity by Hindu philosophy, embodies the idea of the
unbroken consecutiveness of phenomena. Each phenomenon, no
matter how insignificant, is a link of an infinite and unbroken chain,
· Theoeophical Publishing Co., London, 1912, pp. 96-98.

152 TER TIUM ORGANUM
extending from the past into the future, passing from one sphere
into another, sometimes manifesting as physical phenomena, some-
times hiding in the phenomena of consciousness.
If we regard karma from the standpoint of our theory of time
and space of many dimensions, then the connection between distant
events will cease to be wonderful and incomprehensible. If events
most distant from one another in relation to time touch one another
in the fourth dimension, this means that they are proceeding sim-
ultaneously as cause and effect, and the walls dividing them are just
an illusion which our weak intellect cannot conquer. Things are
united, not by time, but by an inner connection, an inner correlation.
And time cannot separate those things which are inwardly near,
following one from another. Certain other properties of these
things force us to think of them as being separated by the ocean
of time. But we know that this ocean does not exist in reality and
we begin to Wlderstand how and why the events of one millennium
can directly influence the events of another millennium.
The hidden activity of events becomes comprehensible to us.
We understand that the events must become hidden in order to pre-
serve for us the illusion of time.
We know this-know that the events of today were the ideas
and feelings of yesterday-and that the events of tomorrow are lying
in someone's irritation, in someone's hunger, in someone's suffer-
ing, and possibly still more in someone's imagination, in someone's
fantasy, in someone's dreams.
We know all this, yet nevertheless our "positive" science ob-
stinately seeks to establish correlations between visible phenomena
only, i. e., to regard each visible or physical phenomenon as the
effect of some other physical phenomenon only, which is also visible.
This tendency to regard everything upon on
plane, the Wlwilling-
ness to recognize anything outside of that plane, horribly narrows
our view of life, prevents our grasping it in its entirety-and taken
in conjunction with the materialistic attempts to account for the
higher as a function of the lower, appears as the principal impedi-
ment to the development of our knowledge, the chief cause of the
dissatisfaction with science, the complaints about the bankruptcy
of science, and its actual bankruptcy in many of its relations.
The dissatisfaction with science is perfectly well grounded, and
the complaints about its insolvency are entirely just, because science

PHENOMEN AL WORLD A "SECTION" 153
has really entered a cuI de sac out of which there is no escape,
and the official recognition of the fact that the direction it has taken
is entirely the wrong one, is only a question of time.

We may say-not as an assumption, but as an affirmation-that
the world of physical phenomena in itself represents the section,
as it were, of another world, existing right here, and the events of
which are proceeding right here, but invisibly to us. There is
nothing more miraculous or supernatural than life. Consider the
street of a great city, in all its details. An enormous diversity of
facts will result. But how much is hidden underneath these
facts of that which it is impossible to see at all! What desires,
passions, thoughts, greed, covetousness; how much of suffering both
petty and great; how much of deceit, falsity; how much of lying;
how many invisible threads-sympathies, antipathies, interests-
bind this street with the entire world, with all the past and with all
the future. If we realize this imaginatively, then it will become
clear that it is impossible to study the street by that which is visible
alone. It is necessary to plunge into the depths. The complex and
enormous phenomena of the street will not reveal its infinite noum-
enon, which is bound up both with eternity and with time, with the
past and with the future, and with the entire world.
Therefore we have a full right to regard the visible phenomenal
world as a section of some other infinitely more complex world,
manifesting itself at a given moment in the first one.
And this world of noumena is infinite and incomprehensible for
us, just as the three-dimensional world, in all its manif oldness of
function, is incomprehensible to the two-dimensional being. The
nearest approach to "truth" which is possible for a man is con-
tained in the saying: everything has an infinite variety of meap,ings,
and to know them all is impossible. In other words, "truth," as we
understand it, i. e., the finite definition, is possible only in a finite
series of phenomena. In an infinite series it will certainly become
its own opposite.
Hegel has given utterance to this last thought: "Every idea,
extended into infinity, becomes its own opposite."
In this change of meaning is contained the cause of the incom-

154 TER TIUM ORGANUM
prehensibility to man of the noumenal world. The substance of
a thing, i. e., the thing-in-usel/, contains an infinite quantity of
meanings and functions of something which it is impossible to grasp
with our mind. And in addition to this it involves a change of
meaning of one and the same thing. In one meaning it represents
an enonnous whole, including within itself a great number of things;
in another meaning it is an insignificant part of a great whole.
Our mind cannot bind all this into one; therefore, the substance of
a thing recedes from us according to the measure of our knowledge,
just as a shadow flees before us. Light on the Path says:
C'Y ou will enter the light, but you will never touch the flame."
This means, that all knowledge is relative. We can never grasp
all the meanings of anyone thing, because in order to grasp them
all, it is necessary for us to grasp the whole world, with all the
variety of meanings contained in it.
The principal difference between the phenomenal and noumenal
aspects of the world is contained in the fact that the first one is
always limited, always finite; it includes those properties of a
given thing which we can generally know as phenomena: the second,
or noumenal aspect, is always unlimited, always infinite. And we
can never say where the hidden functions and the hidden meanings
of a given thing end. Properly speaking, they end nowhere. They
may vary infinitely, i. e., may seem various, ever new from some
new standpoint, but they cannot utterly vanish, any more than they
can cease, come to an end.
A II that is highest to which we shall come in the understanding
of the meaning, the significance, of the soul of any phenomenon,
will again have another meaning, from another, still higher stand-
point, in stilI broader generalization-and there is no end to it!
In this is the majesty and the horror of infinity.

Let us also remember that the world as we know it does not rep'
resent anything stable. It must change with the slightest change in
the fonns of our knowledge. Phenomena which appear to us as un.
related can be seen by some other more inclusive consciousness as
parts of a single whole. Phenomena which appear to us as similar
may reveal themselves as entirely different. Phenomena which ap-

PHENOMENA NOT ISOLA TED 155
pear to us as complete and indivisible, may be in reality exceedingly
complex, may include within themselves different elements, having
nothing in common. And all these together may be one whole in a
category quite incomprehensible to us. Therefore, beyond our view
of things another view is possihle-a view, as it were, from another
world, from cc over there," from "the other side."
Now "over there" does not mean some other place, but a new
method of knowledge, a new understanding. And should we regard
phenomena not as isolated, but bound together with inter-crossing
chains of things and events, we would begin to regard them not
from over here, but from over there.

CHAPTER XIV

The voices of stones. The wall of a church and the wall of a prison. The
mast of a ship and a gallows. The shadow of a hangman and of
an ascetic. The soul of a hangman and of an ascetic. The different
combinations of known phenomena in higher space. The relation-
ship of phenomena which appear unrelated, and the difference
betwe
n phenomena which appear similar. How shall we approach
the noumenal world? The understanding of things outside the
categories of space and time. The reality of many "figures of
speech." The occult understanding of energy. The letter of a
Hindu occultist. Art as the knowledge of the noumenal world.
What we see and what we do not see. Plato's dialogue about the
cavern.

I T seems to us that we see something and understand something.
But in reality all that proceeds around us we sense only very
confusedly, just as a snail senses confusedly the sunlight, the
darkness, and the rain.
Sometimes in things we sense confusedly their difference in func-
tion, i. e., their real difference.
, On one occasion I was crossing the Neva with one of my friends,
A, with whom I happened to have had many conversations upon the
themes touched on in this hook. We had been talking, but both
fell silent as we approached the fortress, gazing up at its walls and
making probably the same reflection. "Right there are also factory
chimneys!" said A. Behind the walls of the fortress indeed ap-
peared some brick chimneys blackened by smoke.
On his saying this, I too sensed the difference between the chim-
neys and the prison walls with unusual clearness and like an electric
shock. I realized the difference between the very bricks themselves,
and it seemed to me that A realized this difference also.
Later in conversation with A, I recalled this episode, and he
told me that not only then, but always, he sensed these differences
and was deeply convinced of their reality. "Positivism assures
itself that a stone is a stone and nothing more," he said, "but any
156

S UBST ANCE AND SHADOW 157
simple woman or child knows perfectly that a stone from the wall
of a church and one from a prison wall are different things."
It seems to me also, that in considering a given phenomenon in
connection with all the chains of sequences of which it is a link,
we shall see that the subjective sensation of the difference between
two physically similar objects-which we are accustomed to think
of only as poetic expression, metaphor, and the reality of which
we deny-is entirely real; we shall see that these objects are really
different, just as different as the candle and the coin which appear
as similar circles (moving lines) in the two-dimensional world of
the plane-man. We shall see that things of the same material
constitution but different in their functions are really different,
and that this difference goes so deep as to make different the very
material which is physically the same. There are differences in
stone, in wood, in iron, in paper, which no chemistry will ever
detect: but these differences exist, and there are men who feel and
understand them.
The mast of a ship, a gallows, a crucifix at a cross-roads on the
steppes-these may be made of the same kind of wood, but in
reality they are different objects made of different material. That
which we see, touch, investigate, is nothing more than "the circles
on the plane" made by the coin and the candle. They are only
the shadows of real things, the substance of which is contained in
their fURction. The shadow of a sailor, of a hangman, and of an
ascetic may be quite similar-it is impossible to distinguish them
by their shadows, just as it is impossible to find any difference be-
tween the wood of a mast, of a gallows and of a cross by chemical
analysis. But they are different men and different objects-their
shadows only are equal and similar.
And if we take men as we know them-the sailor, the hang-
man, the ascetic: men who seem to us similar and equal-and
consider them from the standpoint of their differences in function,
we shall see that in reality they are entirely different and that
there is nothing in common between them. They are quite different
beings, belonging to different categories, to different planes of the
world between which there are no bridges, no avenues at all. These
men seem to us equal and similar because in most cases we see
only the shadows of real facts. The "souls" of these men are
actually quite different, different not only in their quality, their

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

magnitude, their "age," as some people like now to put it, but as
diff c\"ent in the very nature, origin and purpose of their existence
as thmgs belonging to entirely different categories can be.
When we shall begin to understand this, the general concept
man will take on a different meaning.
And this relation holds in the observation of all phenomena.
The mast, the gallows, the cross-these are things belonging to
such different categories, the atoms of such different objects (known
only by their functions), that there cannot be a question of any
similarity at all. Our misfortune consists in the fact that we
regard the chemical constitution of a thing as its most real attribute,
while as a matter of fact its true attributes must be sought for
in its functions. Could we broaden and deepen our vision of the
chains of causation the links of which are forged by our action
and our conduct; could we learn to see them not only in their
narrow relation to the life of man-to our personal life-but in
their broad cosmical meaning; could we succeed in :finding and
establishing a connection between the simple phenomena of
our life and the life of the cosmos; then without doubt in these
"simplest" phenomena would be unveiled for us an infinity of the
new and the unexpected.
For example, in this way we may come to know something
entirely new about those simple physical phenomena which we are
accustomed to regard as natural and obvious and about which we
think we know something. Then, unexpectedly, we may find
that we know nothing, that -everything heretofore known about
them is only an incorrect deduction from incorrect premises.
There may be revealed to us something infinitely great and im-
measurably important in oSuch phenomena as the expansion and
contraction of solids, electrical phenomena, heat, light, sound,
the movements of the planets, the coming of day and of night, the
r.hange of seasons, a thunderstorm, heat-lightning, etc., etc.
Generally speaking, we may find explained in the most unexpected
manner the properties of phenomena which we used to accept as
given things, as not containing anything within themselves that
we could not see and understand.
The constancy, the time, the periodicity or unperiodicity of
phenomena may take on quite a new meaning and significance

THE NEWNESS IN FAMILIAR THINGS 159
for us. The new and the unexpected may reveal itself in the
transition of some phenomena into others. Birth, death, the life
of a man, his relations with other men; love, enmity, sympathies,
antipathies, desires, passions-these may unexpectedly receive
illumination by an entirely new light. It is impossible now to
imagine the nature of this newness which we shall sense in familiar
things, and once felt it will be difficult to understand.
But it is really only our inaptitude to feel and understand this
"newness" which divides us from it, because we are living in it
and amidst it. Our senses, however, are too primitive, our con-
cepts are too crude, for that :fine differentiation of phenomena
which must unfold itself to us in higher space. Our minds, our
powers of correlation and association are insufficiently elastic for
the grasping of new relations. Therefore, the :first emotion at the
rising of the curtain on "that world"-i. e., this our world, but
free of those limitations under which we usually regard it-must
be of wonderment, and this wonderment must grow greater and
greater according to our better acquaintance with it. And the
better we know a certain thing or a certain relation of things-the
nearer, the more familiar they are to us-the greater will be our
wonder at the new and the unexpected therein revealed.
Desiring to understand the noumenal world we must search for
the hidden meaning in everything. At present we are too heavily
enchained by the habit of the positivistic method of searching
always for the visible cause and the visible effect. Under this weight
of positivistic habit it is extremely difficult for us to comprehend
certain ideas. Among other things we have difficulty in under.
standing the reality of the difference in the noumenal world between
objects of our world which are similar, but different in function.
But if we desire to approach to an understanding of the nou.
menal world, we must try with all our might to notice all those
seeming, "subjective" differences between objects which astonish
us sometimes, of which we are often painfully aware-those
differences expressed in the symbols and metaphors of art which are
often revelations of the world of reality. Such differences are the
realities of the noumenal world, far more real than all 1TUJ'fa
(illusion) of our phenomena.
We should endeavor to notice these realities and to develop

160

TERTIUM ORGANUM

within ourselves the ability to feel them, because exactly in this
manner and only by such a method do we put ourselves in contact
with the noumenal world or the world of causes.

I find an interesting example of the understanding of the hidden
meaning of phenomena contained in The Occult Worlel in the
letter of a Hindu occultist to the author of the book, A. P. Sinnett.

We see a vast difference between the two qualities of two equal amounts
of energy expended by two men, of whom one, let us suppose, i! on hi!
way to his daily quiet work, and another on his !Way to denounce a fellow
creature at the police station, while the men of science see none; and we-
not they-see a specific difference between the energy in the motion of
the wind and that of a revolving wheel.
Every thought of man upon being evolved passes into the inner world,
and becomes an active entity by associating itself, coalescing we might
term it, with an elemental-that is to say, with one of the semi-intelligent
forces of the kingdom.

H we ignore the last part of this quotation for the moment, and
consider only the first part, we shall easily see that the "man of
science" does not recognize the difference in the quality of the
energy spent by two men going, one to his work, and another to
denounce someone. For the man of science this difference is
negligible: science does not sense it and does not recognize it.
But perhaps the difference is much deeper and consists not in the
difference between modes of energy but in the difference between
men, one of whom is able to develop energy of one sort and an-
other that of a different sort. Now we have a form of knowledge
which senses this difference perfectly, knows and understands
it. I am speaking of art. The musician, the painter, the sculptor
well understand that it is possible to walk differently-and even
impossible not to walk differently: a workman and a spy cannot
walk alike.
Better than all the actor understands this, or at least he should
understand it better.
The poet understands that the mast of a ship, the gallows, and
the cross are made of different wood. He understands the differ-

OCCULTISM AND ART

161

ence between the stone from a church wall and the stone from a
prison wall. He hears "the voices of stones," understands the
whisperings of ancient walls, of tumuli, of mountains, rivers,
woods and plains. He hears "
the voice of the silence," understands
the psychological difference between silences, knows that one silence
can differ from another. And this poetical understanding of the
world should be developed, strengthened and fortified, hecause only
by its aid do we come in contact with the true world of reality.
In the real world, behind phenomena which appear to us similar,
often stand noumena so different that only by our blindness is it
possible to account for our idea of the similarity of those phenomena.
Through such a false idea the current belief in the similarity
and equality of men must have arisen. In reality the difference
between a "hangman," a "sailor," and an "ascetic" is not an
accidental difference of position, state and heredity, as material.
ism tries to assure us; nor is it a difference between the stages of
one and the same evolution, as theosophy affinns; but it is a deep
and IMPASSABLE difference--such as exists between murder, work
and prayer-involving entirely different worlds. The represent-
atives of these worlds may seem to us to he similar MEN, only
because we see, not them" hut their shadows only.
It is necessary to accustom oneself to the thought that this
difference is not metaphysical but entirely real, more real than
many visible differences between things and between phenomena.
All art, in essence, consists of the understanding and repre-
sentation of these elusive differences. The phenomenal world is
merely a means for the artist-just as colors are for the painter,
and sounds for the musician-a means for the understanding
of the noumenal world and for the expression of that understanding.
At the present stage of our development we possess nothing so power-
ful, as an instrument of kilowledge of the world of causes, as art.
The mystery of life dwells in the fact that the noumenon, i. e.,
the hidden meaning and the hidden function of a thing, is reflected
in its phenomenon. A phenomenon is merely the reflection of a
noumenon in our sphere. THE PHENOMENON IS THE IMAGE OF THE
N
UMENON. It is possible to know the noumenon by the phenome-
non. But in this field the chemical reagents and spectroscopes can
accomplish nothing. Only that fine apparatus which is called the
soul of an artist can understand and feel the reflection of the

162

TERTIUM ORGANUM

noumenon III the phenomenon. In art it is necessary to study
"occultism"-the hidden side of life. The artist must be a clairvoy.
ant: he must see that which others do not see; he must be a magician:
must possess the power to make others see that which they do not
themselves see, but which he does see.
Art sees more and farther than we do. As was said before, we
usually see nothing, we merely feel OUT way; therefore we do not
notice those differences between things which cannot be expressed
in terms of chemistry or physics. But art is the beginning of vision;
it sees vastly more than the most perfect apparatus can discover;
and it senses the infinite invisible facets of that crystal, one facet
of which we
all man.

The truth is that this earth is the
cene of a drama of which we only
perceive scattered portions, and in which the greater number of the actors
are invisible to us.

Thus says the theosopmcal wrIter, Mabel Collins, the author of
Light on the Path, in a little book, Illusions. And this is very true:
we see only a little.
But art sees farther than merely human sight, and therefore con.
cerning certain sides of life art alone can speak, and has the right to
speak.

A remarkable attempt to portray our relation to the "noumenal
world"-to that "great life"-is found in Book VII of Plato's
Republic. *

Behold! human beings living in a sort of underground den; they have
been there from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained-
the chains are arranged in such a manner as to prevent them from turning
round their heads. At a distance above and behind them the light of a
fire is blazing, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised
way; and you will se
, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the
screen which marionette players have before them, over which they show
the puppets. J.magine men passing along the wall carrying vessels, which
appear over the wall; also figures of men and animals, made of wood
· "The Dialogues of Plato," Trans1. by B. Jowett, Vol. II, pp.341-345, Chae. Scribner'.
SODB, N. Y. 1911.

P L A TO' S S HAD 0 W . W A T C HER S 163
and stone and various materials; and some of the passengers, as you
would expect, are talking, and some of them are silent!
That is a strange image, he said, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or
the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of
the cave?
True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were
never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would
only see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to talk with one another, would they not suppo&e
that they were naming what was actually before them?
Very true.
And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the
other side, would they not be sure to fancy that the voice which they heard
was that of a passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
There can be no question, I said, that the truth would be to them just
nothing but the shadows of the images.
That is certain.
And now look again and see how they are released and cured of their
folly. At first, when anyone of them is liberated and compelled sud-
denly to go up and turn his neck around and walk and look at the light,
he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him and he will be un-
able to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows;
and then imagine someone saying to him, that what he saw before was
an illusion, but that now he is approaching real being and has a truer
sight and vision of more real things,-what will be his reply? And you
may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they
pass and requiring him to name them,-will he not be in a difficulty?
Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than
the objects which are now shown to him?
Far truer.
And if he is compelled to look at the light, will he not have a pain in
his eyes which will make him turn away to take refuge in the object of
vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be clearer than the
things which are now being shown to him?
True, he said.
And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and
rugged ascent, and held fast and forced into the presence of the sun him-
self, do you not think that he will be pained and irritated, and when he
approaches the light he will have his eyes dazzled, and will not be able to
see any of the realities which are now affirmed to be the truth?
Not all in a moment, he said.

164 TERTIUM ORGANUM
He will require to get accustomed to the sight of the upper world.
And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and
other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; next he will
gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars; and he wilI see the sky
and the stars by night, better than the sun, or the light of the sun, by day?
Certainly.
And at last he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him
in the water, but he will see him as he is in his own proper place, and not
in another, and he will contemplate his nature.
Certainly.
And after this he will reason that the sun is he who gives the seaS€ins
and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and
in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been
accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would come to the other first and to this afterwards.
And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the
den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate
himself on the change, and pity them?
Certainly, he would.
And if they were in the habit of conferring honors, on those who were
quickest to observe and remember and foretell which of the shadows went
before, and which followed after, and which were together, do you think
that he would care for such honors and glories, or envy the possessors
of them?
Would he not say with Homer,-
"Better to be a poor man, and have a poor master," and endure any.
thing, than to think and live after their manner?
Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than live after
their manner.
Imagine once more, I said, that such an one coming suddenly out of
the sun were to be replaced in his old situation, is he not certain to have
his eyes full of darkness?
Very true, he said.
And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the
shadows with the prisoners who have never moved out of the den, during
the time that his sight is weak, and before his eyes are steady (and the
time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be
very considerable), would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him
that up he went and down he comes without his eyes; and that there was no
use in even thinking of ascending: and if anyone tried to loose another
and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender in the act, and
they would put him to death.
No question, he said.
This allegory, I said, you may now append to the previous argument;
the prison is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, the ascent

THE ALL EGO RYE X P L A I NED 165
and vision of the things above you may truly regard as the upward progress
of the soul into the intellectual world.
And you will understand that those who attain to this beatific vision
are unwilling to descend to human affairs; but their souls are ever hasten-
ing into the upper world in which they desire to dwell. And is there any-
thing surprising in one who passes from divine contemplations to human
things, misbehaving himself in a ridiculous manner.
There is nothing surprising in that, he replied.
Anyone who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments
of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from com-
ing out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the
mind's eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye; and he who remembers
this when he sees the soul of anyone whose vision is perplexed and weak,
will not be too ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul has
come out of the brighter life, and is unable to see because unaccustomed
to the dark, or having turned from darkness to the day is dazzled by

xcess of lighL And then he will count one happy in his condition and
state of being.

CHAPTER XV

Occultism and love. Love and death. Our different relations to the
problems of death and to the problems of love. What is lacking
in our understanding of love? Love as an every-day and mersly
psychological phenomenon. The possibility of a spiritual under.
standing of love. The creative force of love. The negation of love.
Love and mysticism. The "wondrous" in love. Nietzsche, Edward
Carpenter and Schopenhauer on love. "The Ocean of Sex."

T HERE is not a single side of life which is not capable of
revealing to us an infinity of the new and the unexpected,
if we approach it with the knowledge that it is not exhausted
by its visibility, that beyond this visibility there is a whole "invisible
world"-a world of to us new and incomprehensible forces and
relations. The knowledge of the existence of this invisible world:
this is the first key to it.
A wealth of "newness" unfolds to us in the most mysterious
sides of our existence, in those sides through which we come into
direct contact with eternity-in love and in death. In Hindu
mythology love and death are the two faces of one deity. Siva,
god of the creative force of nature, is at the same time the god of
violent death, of murder and destruction. His wife is Parvati,
goddess of beauty, love and happiness, and she is also Kali or Durga
-goddess of evil, of misfortune, of sickness and of death. To-
gether Siva and Kali are the gods of wisdom, the gods of the knowl-
edge of good and evil.
In the beginning of his hook, The Drama of Love and Death, *
Edward Carpenter very well defines our relation to these deeply
incomprehensible and enigmatical sides of existence:

Love and death move through this world of ours like things apart-
underrunning it truly, and everywhere present, yet seeming to belong to
some other mode of existence.
· Mitchell Kennerly, 1912, New York and London.
166

LOVE A COSMIC PHENOMENON 167
And further:

These figures, Love and Death, move through the world like closest
friends indeed, never far separate, and together dominating it in a kind
of triumphant superiority; and yet like bitterest enemies, dogging each
other's footsteps, undoing each other's work, fighting for the bodies and
souls of mankind.

In these few words is shown the contents of the enigma which
confronts us, encompasses us, creates and annihilates us. But
man's relation to the two aspects of this enigma is not identical.
Strange as it may seem, the face of death has ever been more at-
tractive to the mystical imagination of men than the face of love.
There have always been many attempts to understand and define
the hidden meaning of death; all religions, all religious doctrines
begin with giving to man this or that idea about death. It is
impossible to construct any system of world-contemplation with-
out some definition of death; and there are numerouS! systems
such as contemporary spiritism which consist almost entirely of
"views upon death," of doctrines about death and post-mortem
existence. (In one of his articles, V. V. Rosanoff * observes that
all religions consist in substance of teachings about death.)
But the problem of love, in the contemporary way of looking at
the world, is regarded as something given, as something already
understood and known. Different systems contribute little that is
enlightening to an understanding of love. So although in reality
love is for us the same enigma as is death, yet for some strange
reason we think about it less. We seem to have developed cer-
tain cut and dried standards in regard to an understanding of love,
and men thoughtlessly accept this or that standard. Art.
which from its very nature should have much to say on this sub-
ject, gives a great deal of attention to love; love ever has been,
and perhaps still is, the principal theme of art. But even art
chiefly confines itself merely to descriptions and to the psycholog-
ical analysis of love, seldom touching those infinite and eternal
depths which love contains for man.
In reality love is a cosmic phenomenon, in which men, human-
ity, are merely accidents: a cosmic phenomenon which has nothing
to do with either the lives or the souls of men, any mor
than because
· A Russian journalist and author. Transl.

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

the sun is shining, by its light men may go about their little affairs,
and may utilize it for their own purposes. If men would only un-
derstand this, even with a part of their consciousness, a new world
would open, and to look on life from all our usual angles would
become very strange. .
For then they would understand that love is something else,
and of quite a different order from the petty phenomena of earthly
life.
Perhaps love is a world of strange spirits who at times take up
their abode in men, subduing them to themselves, making them
tools for the acc
mplishment of their inscrutable purposes. Per-
haps it is some particular region of the inner world wherein the
souls of men sometimes enter, and where they live according to
the laws of that world, while their bodies remain on earth, bound
by the laws of earth. Perhaps it is an alchemical work of some
Great Master wherein the souls and bodies of men play the rOle of
elements out of which is compounded a philosopher's stone, or an
elixir of life, or some mysterious magnetic force necessary to some-
one for some incomprehensible purpose.
Love in relation to our life is a deity, sometimes terrible, some-
times benevolent, but never subservient to us, never consenting to
serve our purposes. Men strive to subordinate love to themselves,
to warp it to the uses of their every-day mode of life, and to their
souls' uses; but it is impossible to subordinate love to anything, and
it mercilessly revenges itself upon those little mortals who would
subordinate God to themselves and make Him serve them. It con-
fuses all their calculations, and forces them to do things which con-
found themselves, forcing them to serve itself, to do what it wants.
Mistaken about the origin of love, men are mistaken about its
result. Positivistic and spiritistic morality equally recognize in
love only one possible result-children, the propagation of the
species. But this objective result, which mayor may not be, is in
any case an effect of the outer, objective side of love, of the ma-
terial fact of impregnation. If it is possible to see in love nothing
more than this material fact and the desire for it, so be it; but in
reality love consists not at all in a material fact, and the results
of it-except material ones-may manifest themselves on quite
another plane. This other plane, upon which love acts, and the

CORRECT UNDERST ANDING OF LOVE 169
ignored, hidden results of love, are not difficult to understand,
even from the strictly positivistic, scientific standpoint.
To science, which studies life from this side, the purpose of
love is the continuation of life. More exactly, love is a link in the
chain of facts supporting the continuation of life. The force
which attracts the two sexes to each other is acting in the interests
of the continuation of the species, and is accordingly created by
the forms of the 'Continuation of the species. But if we regard
love in this way, then it is impossible not to recognize that there
is much more of this force than is necessary. Herein lies the
key to the correct understanding of the true nature of love. There
is more of this force than is necessary, infinitely more. In reality
only an infinitesimal part of love's force incarnate in humanity is
utilized for the purpose of the continuation of the species. But
where does the major part of that force go?
We know that nothing can be lost. If energy exists, then it
must transform itself into something. Now if a merely negligible
percentage of energy goes into the creation of the future by be-
getting, then the remainder must go into the creation of the future
also, but in another way. We have in the physical world many
cases in which the direct function is effected by a very small per-
centage of the consumed energy, and the greater part is spent
without return, as it were. But of course this greater part of
energy does not disappear, is not wasted, but accomplishes other
results quite different from the direct function.
Take the example of a common candle. It gives light, but it
also gives considerably more heat than light. Light is the direct
function of a candle, heat the indirect, but we get more heat than
light. A candle is a furnace adapted to the purpose of lighting.
In order to give light a candle must bum. Combustion is a neces-
sary condition for the receiving of light from a candle; it is im-
possible to ignore this combustion; but the same combustion gives
heat. At first thought it appears that the heat from a candle is
spent unproductively; sometimes it is superfluous, unpleasant,
annoying; if a room is lighted by candles it will soon grow ex-
cessively hot. But the fact remains that light is received from a
candle only because of combustion-by the development of heat and
the incandescence of volatilized gases.

170

TERTIUM ORGANUM

The same thing is true in the case of love. We may say that a
merely neligible part of love's energy goes into posterity; the
greater part is spent by the fathers and mothers on their personal
emotions as it were. But this also is necessary. Without this ex-
penditure the principal thing could not be achieved. Only because
of these at first sighi collateral results of love, only hecause of all
this tempest of emotions, feelings, effervescences, desires, thoughts,
dreams, fantasies, inner creations; only because of the beauty which
it creates, can love fulfil its immediate function.
Moreover-and this perhaps is the most important-the super-
fluous energy is not wasted at all, but is transformed into other
forms of energy, possible to discover. Generally speaking, the
significance of the indirect results may very often he of more im-
portance than the significance of direct ones. And since we are
able to trace how the energy of love transforms iiself into instincts,
ideas, creative forces on different planes of life; into symbols of
ari, song, music, poetry; so can we easily imagine how the same
energy may transform itself into a higher order of intuition, into a
higher consciousness which will reveal to us a marvelous and
mysterious world.
In all living nature (and perhaps also in that which we consider
as dead) love is the motive force which drives the creative activity
in the most diverse directions.
In springtime with the first awakening of love's emotions the
hirds begin to sing, and build nests.
Of course a positivist would strive to explain all this very
simply: singing acts as an attraction hetween the females
and the males, and 80 forth. But even a positivist will not be in a
position to deny that there is a good deal more of this singing than
is necessary for "the continuation of the species." For a posi-
tivist, indeed, "singing" is merely "an accident," a "hy-product."
But in reality it may he that this singing is the principal function
of a given species, the realization of its existence, the purpose pur-
sued hy nature in creating this species; and that this singing is
necessary, not so much to attract the females, as for some gen-
eral harmony of nature which we only rarely and imperfectly
sense.
Thus in this case we ohserve that what appears to he a collateral

LOVE THE DELIVERER 171
function of love, from the standpoint of the individual, may serve
as a principal function of the species.
Furthermore, there are no fledglings as yet: there is even no inti-
mation of them, hut "homes" are prepared for them nevertheless.
Love inspires this orgy of activity, and instinct directs it, hecause
it is expedient from the standpoint of the species. At the first
awakening of love this work hegins. One and the same desire
creates a new generation and those conditions under which this
new generation will live. One and the same desire urges forward
creative activity in all directions, hrings the pairs together for the
birth of a new generation, and makes them build and create for this
same future generation.
We ohserve the same thing in the world of men: there too love
is the creative force. And the creative activity of love does not
manifest itself in one direction only, hut in many ways. It is indeed
prohahle that hy the spur of love, Eros, humanity is aroused to the
fulfilment of its principal function, of which we know nothing, hut
only at times hy glimpses hazily perceive.
But even without reference to the purpose of the existence of
humanity, within the limits of the knowahle we must recognize
that all the creative activity of humanity results from love. Our
entire world revolves around love as its centre.
Love unfolds in a human heing traits of his which he never
knew in himself. In love there is much both of the Stone Age and
of the Witches' Sabhath. By anything less than love many men
cannot he induced to commit a crime, to he guilty of a treason, to
reanimate in themselves such f
lings as they thought to have
killed out long ago. In love is hidden an infinity of egoism, van-
ity and selfishness. Love is the potent force that tears off all
masks, and men who run away from love do so in order that they
may preserve their masks.
If creation, the birth of ideas, is the light which comes from love,
then this light comes from a great fire. In this eternally hurning
fire in which humanity and all the world are heing incessantly
purified, all the forces of the human spirit and of genius are
heing evolved and refined; and perhap.s indeed, from this same
fire or hy its aid a new force will arise which shall deliver from
the chains of m
tter all who follow where it leads.

172 TERTIUM ORGANUM
Speaking not :figuratively, but literally, it may be said that
love, being the most powerful of all emotions, unveils in the soul of
man all its qualities patent and latent; and it may also unfold
those new potencies which even now constitute the object of
occultism and mysticism-the development of powers in the human
soul so deeply hidden that by the majority of men their very exist-
ence is denied. *
In the majority of cases love, as it exists in modern life, has
become a trifling away of feelings, of sensations. It is difficult,
in the conditions which govern life in the world, to imagine such a
love as will not interfere with mystical aspirations. Temples of
love and the mystical celebration of love's mysteries exist in
reality no longer: there is the "every-day manner of life," and
psychological labyrinths from which those who rise a little above
the ordinary level can only desire to run away.
For this reason certain :fine forms of asceticism are developing
quite naturally. This asceticism does not slander love, does not
blaspheme against it, does not try to convince itself that love is an
abomination from which it is necessary to run away. It is Platon-
ism rather than asceticism. It recognizes that love is the sun, but
often does not see its way to live in the sunlight, and so considers it
better not to see the sun at all, to divine it in the soul only, rather
than receive its light through darkened or smoked glasses.
In general, however, love represents for men too great an
enigma; and often the denial of love and asceticism take on strange
and unnatural forms, even with persons who are quite sincere, but
unable to understand the great mystical aspect of love. When
one encounters these perversions of love, one involuntarily calls to
mind the words of Zarathustra: t

Voluptuousness: unto all hair-shirted despisers of the body, a string
· In the first Russian edition of this book, in those eketches which took the place of
the present chapter, among other things I made the attempt to classify love, and to dif.
ferentiate between "Jove" (individualized feeling) and "sexual emotion" (not individual-
ized and undiscriminating in its longing for the satisfaction of the purely physical de.
sire). But it seems to me now 1hat this divieion, like all eimilar divisions, is uneatisfac.
tory. The difference i& not in facts but in men.
On earth there are living two entirely different race, of men; and the difficulty of
making psychological distinctions depends, in great measure, upon the fact that we en-
deavor to impose on all men common characteristics which they do not possess.
t F. Nietzsche: "Thus spake Zarathustra." (Boni and Liveright New York), pp.
195, 196.

"VOLUPTUOUSNESS"

173

and stake; and cursed as "the world" by all baclDworldsmen.: for it mocketh
and befooleth all erring, misinferring teachers.
Voluptuousness: to the rabble the slow fire at which it is burnt: to all
wormy wood, to all stinking rags, the prepared heat and stew furnace.
Voluptuousness: to free hearts, a thing innocent and free, the garden-
happiness of the earth, all the future's thanks-overflow to the present.
Voluptuousness: only to the withered a sweet poison: to the lion-willed,
however, the great cordial, and the reverently saved wine of wines.
Voluptuousness: the great symbolic happiness of a higher happiness and
highest hope. For to many is marriage promised and more than marriage
-to many that are more unknown to each other than man and woman-and
who hath fully understood how unknown to each other are man and woman.

I have dwelt so long on the subject of the understanding of love
because it has the most vital significance; because to the majority
of men, approaching the threshold of the great mystery, much
is closed or opened to them in this way, and because for many this
question represents the greatest obstacle.
In love the JIlOst important element is that which 'is not, which
absolutely does not exist from the usual worldly, materialistic point
of view.
In this sensing of that which is not, and in the contact through
it with the world of the wondrous, i. e., truly real, consists the prin-
cipal element of love in human Iif e.
It is a well-known psychological fact that in moments of power-
ful emotion, of great joy or great suffering, everything happening
round about a man seems to him unreal-a dream. This is the
beginning of the soul's awakening. When a man in a dream begins
to be conscious of the fact that he is asleep and that what he sees is
a dream, then he is waking up; so also the soul, beginning to be con-
scious of the fact that all visible life is a dream, approaches its
awakening. And the more powerful, the brighter the inner emo-
tions are, so much the more quickly will the moment of conscious-
ness of the unreality of life come.
It is very interesting to consider love and men's relation to love
in the light of that method and those analogies which we have al-
ready applied to the comparative study of different dimensions.
Again it is necessary to imagine a world of plane beings, observ-
ing phenomena entering their plane from another unknowable

174 TERTIUM ORGANUM
world (such as the change of the color of lines on a plane, in
reality depending upon the rotation through the plane of a wheel
with many-co loured spokes). The plane beings believe that the
phenomena arise within the limits of their plane, from causes also
belonging to the same plane, and that they are finished there. Also,
all similar phenomena are to them identical, such as two circles
which in reality belong to two entirely different objects.
On this foundation they erect their science and their morality.
Yet if they would decide to discard their "two-dimensional" psy-
chology and try to understand the true substance of these phenomena,
then with the aid and by means of these phenomena they could sever
their connection with their plane, arise, fly up above it, and disQover
a great unknown world.
The question of love holds exactly the same place in our life.
Only he who can see considerably beyond the facts discerns
love's real meaning; and it is possible to illumine these very facts
by the light of that which lies behind them.
And he who is able to see beyond the "facts" begins to discern
much of "newness" in love and through love.
I shall quote in this connection a poem in prose by Edward Car-
penter, from the book Towards Democracy.

THE OCEAN OF SEX
To hold in continence the great sea, the great ocean of Sex, within one,
With flux and reflux pressing on the bounds of the body, the beloved
genitals,
Vibrating, swaying emotional to the star-glint of the eyes of all human
beings,
Reflecting Heaven and all Creatures,
How wonderful!

Scarcely a figure, male or female, approaches, but a tremor travels
across iL
As when on the cUff which bounds the edge of a pond someone moves,
then in the bowels of the water also there is a mirrored movement,
So on the edge of this Ocean.
The glory of the human form, even faintly outlined under the trees or
by the shore, convulses it with far reminiscences;
(Yet strong and solid the sea.banks, not lightly overpassed);
Till maybe to the touch, to the approach, to the incantation of the eye.
of one,

"THE OCEAN OF SEX"
It bursts forth, uncontrollable.
o wonderful ocean of Sex,

175

Ocean of millions and millions of tiny seed-like human forms con-
tained (if they be truly contained) within each person,
Mirror of the very universe,
Sacred temple and innermost shrine of each body, Ocean-river flowing
ever on through the great trunk and branches of Humanity,
From which after all the individual only springs like a leaf-bud!
Ocean which we so wonderfully contain (if indeed we do not contain
thee), and yet who containest us!
Sometimes when I feel and know thee within, and identify myselC
with thee,
Do I understand that I also am of the dateless brood of Heaven and
Eternity.

Returning to that from which I started, the relation between the
fundamental laws of our existence, love and death, the true mutual
correlation of which remains enigmatical and incomprehensible
to us, I shall merely recall Schopenhauer's words with which he
ends his CounseM and Maxims.

I should point out how Beginning and End meet together, and how
closely and intimately Eros is connected with Death; how Orcus, or Amen-
thes, as the Egyptians called him, is not only the. receiver but the giver of
all things. . . Death is the great reservoir of Life. Everything comes
from Orcus--everything that is alive now and was once there. Could
we but understand the great trick by which that is done, all the world
would be clear. *
· Transl. by T. B. Saunders, M. A. Macmillan Co.. New York.

CHAPTER XVI

The phenomenal and the noumenal side of man. "Man-in.himself." How
do we know the inner side of man? Can we know of the existence
of consciousness in conditions of space not analogous to ours?
Brain and consciousness. Unity of the world. Logical impossibil-
ity of the simultaneous existence of spirit and matter. Either all
spirit or all matter. Rational and irrational actions in nature and
in the life of man. Can rational actions exist alongside irrational?
The world as an accidentally self-created mechanical toy. The im-
possibility of reason in a mechanical universe. The irreconcilability
of mechanicalness with the existence of reason. Kant concerning
"hosts." Spinoza on the knowledge of the invisible world. Neces-
sity for the intellectual definition of that which can be, and that
which cannot be, in the world of the hidden.

W E know what man is only imperfectly; our conceptions
regarding him are extremely fallacious and easily create
new illusions. First of all, we are inclined to regard
man as a certain unity, and to regard the different parts and func-
tions of man as being bound together, and dependent upon one
another. Moreover, in the physical apparatus, in man visible, we
see the cause of all his properties and actions. In reality, man is
a very complicated something, and complicated in various meanings
of the word. Many sides of the life of a man are not bound to-
gether among themselves at all, or are bound only by the fact that
they belong to one man; but the life of man goes on simultaneously
on different planes, as it were, while the phenomena of one plane
only at times and partially touch those of another, and may not them-
selves touch at all. And the relations of the same man to the
various sides of himself and to other men are entirely dissimilar.
Man includes within himself all three of the above-mentioned
orders of phenomena, i. e., he represents in himself the combina-
tion of physical phenomena with those of life and psychic phenomena.
And the mutual relations between these three orders of phenomena
are infinitely more complex than we are accustomed to think.. Psy-
chic phenomena we feel, sense and are conscious of in ourselves;
176

THE NOUMENON OF MAN HIS PSYCHE 177
physical phenomena and the phenomena of life we observe and
make conclusions about on the basis of e?Cperience. We do not
sense the psychic phenomena of others, i. e., the thoughts, feelings
and desires of another man; but the fact that they exist in him we
conclude from what he says, and by analogy with ourselves. We
know that in ourselves certain actions, certain thoughts, and feelings
proceed, and when we observe the same actions in another man, we
conclude that he has thought and felt like us. Analogy with our.
selves-this is our sole criterion and method of reasoning and draw-
ing conclusipns about the psychic life in other men if we cannot
communicate with them, or do not wish to believe in what they tell
us about themselves.
Suppose that I should live among men without the possibility
of communicating with them and having no way to make conclu-
sions based upon analogy; in that case I should be surrounded by
moving and acting automatons, the cause, purpose and meaning
of whose actions would be perfectly incomprehensible to me. Per-
haps I would explain their actions hy
'molecular motion," perhaps
hy the "influence of the planets," perhaps hy "spiritism," i. e., hy
the influence of "
pirits," possihly hy "chance" or hy a haphazard
combination of causes-but in any case I should not and could not
see the psychic life in the depth of these men's actions.
Concerning the existence of thought and feeling I can usually only
conclude by analogy with myself. I know that certain phenomena
are connected in me with my possession of thought and feeling.
When I see the same phenomena in another man I conclude that he
also possesses thought and feeling. But I <:annot convince myself di-
rectly of the existence of psychic life in another man. Studying
man from one side only I should stand in the same position in
relation to him as, according to Kant, we stand with relation to the
world surrounding us. We know merely the form of our knowl-
edge of it. The world-in-itself we do not know.
Thus the psyche, with all its functions and with all its contents--
I have two methods-analogy with myself, and intercourse with him
by the exchange of thoughts. Without this, man is for me a phe-
nomenon merely, a moving automaton.
The noumenon of a man is his psyche together with everything
this psyche includes within itself and that with which it unites him.
In "man" are opened to us both worlds, though the noumenal

178

TERTIUM ORGANUM

world is open only slightly, because it is cognized by u
through
the phenomenal.
N oumenal means apprehended by the-mind; and the character.
istic property of the things of the noumenal world is that they can-
not be comprehended by the same method by which the things of the
phenomenal world are comprehended. We may speculate about
the things of the noumenal world; we may discover them by a process
of reasoning, and by means of analogy; we may feel them, and enter
into some sort of communion with them; but we can neither see,
hear, touch, weigh, measure them; nor can we photograph them or
decompose them into chemical elements or number their vibrations.
Thus, the psyche, with all its functions and with all its contents-
thoughts, feelings, desires, will-does not relate itself to the world
of phenomena. We cannot know even a single element of the psyche
objectively. Emotion as such is a thing which it is impossible to
see, just as it is impossible to see the value of a coin. You can
see the stamp upon a coin, but you will never see its value. It is
just as impossible to photograph thought as it is to imagine "Egyp.
tian darkness" in a vial. To think otherwise, to experiment with the
photographing of thought, simply means to be unable to think
logically. On a phonographic record are the tracings of the needle,
elevations and depressions, but there is no sound. He who holds
a phonographic record to his ear, hoping to hear something, will
be sure to listen in vain.

Including within himself two worlds, the phenomenal and the
noumenal, man gives us the opportunity to understand in what re-
lation these worlds stand to one another everywhere throughout
nature. It is necessary however to remember, that defining a nou.
menon in terms of the psyche, we take but one of its infinity of
aspects.
We have already arrived at the conclusion that the noumenon
of a thing consists in its function in another sphere-in its meaning
which is incomprehensible in a given section of the world. * Next
..The expression "section of the world" is taken as an indicator of the unreality of the
forms of each section. The world is infinite, and aU forms are infinite, but to grasp them
with the finite brain-consciousness, i. e., by consciousness reflected in the brain, we must
imagine the infinite forms as being finite, and these are "sections of the world." The

THE PHYCHE OF MAN HIS FUNCTION 179
we came to the conclusion that the number of meanings of one and
the same thing in different sections of the world must be infinitely
great and infinitely various, that it must become its own opposite,
return again to the beginning (from our standpoint), etc., etc., in-
finitely expanding, contracting again, and so forth.
It is necessary to remember that the noumenon and the phenom-
enon are not different things, but merely different aspects of one and
and the s
thing. Thus, each phenomenon is the finite expres-
sion, in the sphere of our knowledge through the organs of sense,
of something infinite.
A phenomenon is the three-dimensional expression of a given
noumenon.
This three-dimensionality depends upon the three-dimensional
forms of our knowledge, i. e., speak.ing simply, upon our brains,
nerves, eyes, and finger-tips.

In
'man" we have found that one side of his noumenon is his
psychic life, and dlat therefore in the psyche lies the heginning of the
solution of the riddle of the functions and meanings of man which
are incomprehensible from an outside point of view. What is
the psyche of man if it is not his function-incomprehensible in the
three-dimensional section of the world? Truly, if we shall study
and ohserve man hy all accessihle means, ohjectively, from without,
we shall never discover his psyche and shall never define the func-
tion of his consciousness. We must first of all become aware of the
existence of our own psyche, and then either hegin a conversation
(hy signs, gestures, words) with another man, hegin to exchange
thoughts with him, and from his answers deduce the conclusion that
he possesses the same thing that we do-or come to the conclusion
ahout it from external indications (actions similar to ours in similar
circumstances) . By the direct method of objective investigation.
without the help of speech, or without the help of conclusions hased
upon analogr, we shall not discover the psyche in another man.
world is one, but the number of possible sections is infinite. Let us imagine an apple:
it is one, but we may imagine an infinite number of sections in an directions and these
sections will differ from one another. If instead of an apple we take a more complicated
body, for instance the body of BOme animal: then the sections taken in different direc.
tione will be even more unlike one another.

180

TERTIUM ORGANUM

That which is inaccessible to the direct method of investigation, but
exists, is NOUMENAL. Consequently we shall not be in a position
to define the functions and meanings of man in another section of
the world than that world of Euclidian geometry, solely accessible
to the "direct methods of investigation." Therefore we have a per-
fect right to regard "the psyche of man" as his function in some
section of the world different from that three-dimensional section
wherein "the body of man" functions.
Having established this much we may ask ourselves the question:
Have we not the right to make a reverse conclusion, and regard as
a psyche of its own kind the to us unknown function of the "world"
and of "things" outside of their three-dimensional section?

Our usual positivistic view regards psychic life as a function of
the brain. Without a brain we cannot imagine rationality.
Max Nordau, when he wanted to imagine the world's consciousness
(in Paradoxes), was obliged to say that we cannot be certain that
somewhere in the infinite space of the universe is not repeated on a
grandiose scale the same combination of physical and chemical
elements as constitutes our brains. This is very characteristic and
typical of "positive science." Desiring to imagine the "world's
consciousness" positivism is first of all forced to imagine a gigantic
brain. Does not this at once savor of the two-dimensional or plane
world? Surely the idea of a gigantic brain somewhere beyond the
stars reveals the appalling poverty and impotence of positivistic
thought. This thought cannot leave its usual grooves; it has no
wings for a soaring Hight.
Let us imagine that some curious inhabitant of Europe in the
seventeenth century should try to foresee the means of transportation
in the twentieth century, and should picture to himself an enormous
stage-coach, large as an hotel, harnessed to one thousand horses;
.he would be pretty near to the tru.th, :but also at the same time in-
finitely far from it. And yet even in his time some minds which
foresaw along correct lines already existed: already the idea of
the steam engine had been broached and models were appearing.
The thought expressed by Nordau reminds one of a favorite
concept of popular philosophy relating to an accidentally caught

P 0 SIT I V ISM A B L I N D ALL E Y 181
idea, that the planets and satellites of the solar system are merely
molecules of some tremendous organism, an insignificant part of
which that system represents.
"Perhaps the entire universe is located on the tip of the little fin-
ger of some great being," says such a philosophizer, "and perhaps
our molecules are also worlds." The deuce! Perhaps on my little
finger there are several universes too! And such a philosophizer
gets frightened. But all such reasonings are merely the gigantic
stage-coach over again. * This is the way a little girl thought,
about whom I was reading, if I mistake not, in The Theosophical Re-
view. The girl was sitting near the fireplace, and beside her slept
a cat. "Well, the cat is sleeping," the girl refleoted, "perhaps she
sees in a dream that she is not a cat, but a little girl. And
maybe 1 am not a little girll1l all, but a cat, and only see in a dream
thl1/, 1 am a little girl. . .." The next moment the house resounds
with a violent cry, and the parents of the liule girl have a hard time
to convince her that she is not a cat but really a little girl.
All this shows that it is necessary to philosophize with a certain
amount of skill. Our thought is encompassed by many blind alleys,
and positivism, always attempting to apply the rule of proportion, is
in itself such a blind alley.

Our analysis of phenomena, the relation which we have shown to
exist between physical phenomena and those of life and of the psyche,
permits us to assert quite definitely that psychic phenomena cannot
be a function of physical phenomena-or phenomena of a lower or-
der. We established that the higher cannot be a function of the
lower. And this division into higher and lower is also based upon
the clear fact of the different potentialities of various orders of
phenomena-of the different amount of latent force contained in
them (or liberated by them). And of course we have the right to
call those phenomena the higher which pOSsess immeasurably greater
potentiality, immeasurably more latent force; and to call those the
lower which possess less potentiality, less latent force.
· The incorrectness here is not in the idea itself, but in a literal analogy. The
thought itself, that molecules are worlds and worlds are but molecules, deserves atten-
tion and study.

182 TERTIUM ORGANUM
The phenomena of life are the higher in comparison with physical
phenomena.
Psychic phenomena are the higher, in comparison with the phe-
nomena of life and physical phenomena.
Which must be the function of which is clear.
Without making a palpable logical mistake we cannot declare
life and the psyche to be dependent functionally upon physical
phenomena, i. e., to be a result of physical phenomena. The truth
is quite the opposite of this: everything forces us to recognize physi-
cal phenomena as the result of life, and life (in a biological sense)
BiS the result of some form of psychic life, which is perhaps unknown
to us.
But of which life, and of which psyche? Here lies the question.
Of course it would be absurd to regard our planetary sphere as a
function of the vegetable and animal life proceeding upon it-and
the visible stellar universe as a function of the human psyche. But
nothing of this sort is meant. In the occult understanding of things
'we speak always of another life and another psyche, the particular
manifestation of which is our life and our psyche. It is important
to establish the general principle that physical phenomena, being
the lower, depend upon the phenomena of life and of the psyche,
which are higher.
If we admit this principle as established, then it is possible to
proceed further.
The first question which arises is this: In what relation does the
psychic life of man stand to his body and his brain?
This question has been answered differently in different times.
Psychic life has been regarded as a direct function of the brain
(C'Thought is the motion of brain 'substance"), thus of course deny-
ing any possibility of thought without the existence of a brain.
Then followed an attempt to establish a parallelism between psychic
activity and the activity of the brain. But the nature of this par-
allelism has always remained obscure. Yes, evidently, the brain
works parallel to thinking and feeling: an arrestment or a disorder
of the activity of the brain brings as a consequence a visible arrest-
ment or disorder of psychic activity. But after all the activity
of . the brain is merely motion, i. e., an objective phenomenon,
whereas the activity of the psyche is a phenomenon objectively un-

THE BRAIN AS A MIRROR 183
definable, and at the same time more powerful than anything object-
ive. How shall we reconcile all this?
Let us endeavor to consider the activity of the brain and the
activity of the psyche from the standpoint of the existence of those
two data, the "world" and "consciousness," accepted by us at the
very beginning.
If we consider the brain from the standpoint of consciousness,
then the brain will be part of the "world," i. e., part of the outer
world lying outside of consciousness. Therefore the psyche and the
brain are different things. But the psyche, as experience and ob.
servation shows, can act only through the brain. The brain is that
necessary prism, passing through which, part of the psyche manifests
itself to us as inleUect. Or to put it a little differently, the brain
is a mirror, reflecting psychic life in our three-dimensional section
of the world. This last means that in our three-dimensional section
of the world not all of the psyche (the true dimensions of which we
do not know) is acting, but only so much of it as can be reflected in a
brain. It is clear that if the mirror be broken, then the image will
he broken too, or if the mirror be injured or imperfect, then the re-
flection will be blurred or distorted. But there is absolutely no
reason to believe that when the mirror is broken the object which
it reflects is thereby destroyed, i. e., psychic life in the given case.
The psyche cannot suffer from any disorder of the bralin, but the
manifestations of it may suffer very much or may even disappear
from the field of our observation altogether. Therefore it is clear
that a disorder in the activity of the brain causes an enfeeblement
or a distortion, or even a complete disappearance of the psychic f ac-
uIties manifesting in our sphere.
The idea of the comparison between a three-dimensional body
and a four-dimensional one enables us to affirm that not all the
psychic activity goes through the brain, but a part of it only. *

Each of us is in reali:ty an abiding physical entity far more extensive
than he knows-an individuality which can never express itself completely
through any corporeal manifestation. The self manifests through the
organism; but there is always some part of the self unmanifested.t
· Frederick Myers, "Essay on the Subliminal Consciousness:' as quoted in William
James' "The Varieties of ReligioUB Experience," Longmans, Green & Co., New York,
p.512.
t In all the above it would be more correct to substitute for the word brain the word
fwdy-organism. The present trend of scientific psychology leads to an understanding of
the peychic importance of diverse physiological functions, previously unknown and even

184 T E R T I U M 0 R G A N U M
The CCpositivist" will remain unconvinced. He will say: prove
to me that thought can act without a brain, then I will believe it.
I shall answer him by the question: WHAT, in the given case, will
constitute a proof?
There are no proofs and there can not be any. The existence of
the psyche without a brain (without a body), if that be possible, is
for us a fact which cannot be proven like a physical fact.
And if my opponent will reason sincerely, then he will be con-
vinced there can be no proof, because he himself has no means 01
being convinced of the existence of a psyche acting independently of
a brain. Let us assume that the thought of a dead man (i. e., of a
man whose brain has ceased to act) continues to function. How can
we convince ourselves of this? By no possible means whatever.
We have means of communication (speech, writing) with beings
which are in conditions similar to our own-i. e., acting through
brains; concerning the existence of the psyche of those same beings
we can conclude by analogy with ourselves; but concerning the ex-
istence of the psychic life of other beings, whether they do or they
do not exist is imml1lerial, we can not by ordinary means convince
ourselves that they exist.
It is exactly this that gives us a key to the understanding of the
true relation of psychic life to the brain. Our psyche being a
reflection from the brain, we can observe only those reflections which
are -similar to itself. We have before established that we can
make conclusions concerning the psychic life of other beings from
the exchange of thoughts with them and from analogies with our-
selves. Now we may add to this, that for this very reason we can
know only about the existence of psychic lives similar to our own,
and we cannot know any other at all, whether they exist or not, un-
less we ourselves enter their plane.
Should we ever realize our psychic life, not only as it is reflected
from a brain, but in a condition more universal, simultaneously
with this the possibility would open up of discovering beings with
a psychic life independent of the brain analogical to ourselves, if
such exist in nature.
now but little investigated. The psychic life is connected not with the brain only, but
with the entire body, all its organs, all its tiesues. The study of the activity of glands,
and of many other things with which science is now concerning itself, shows that the
brain is by no means the only conductor of the psychio activity of man.

UNIFORMITY OF PHENOMEN A 185
But do such beings exist or not? How can we gain information
on this point with our thought such as it is now?
Observing the world from our standpoint, we perceive in it ac-
tions proceeding from rational conscious causes, such as the work of
a man seems to us; and other actions proceeding from the uncon-
scious blind forces of nature, such as the movement of waves, the
ebbing and flowing of the tide, the descent of great rivers, etc., etc.
In such a division of observed actions into rational and mechanical
there is something naive, even from the positivistic standpoint. For
if we have learned anything from the study of nature, if the positiv-
istic method has given us anything at all, then it is the assurance of
the necessity for the uniformity of phenomena. We know, and
with great certainty, that things basically similar cannot proceed
from dissimilar causes. Our scientific philosophy knows this too.
Therefore it also regards the foregoing division as naive, and con-
scious of the impossibility of such dualism-that one part of observed
phenomena proceeds from rational and conscious causes and an-
other part from unreasoned and unconscious ones-positivistic phil-
osophy finds it possible to explain e'{lerything as proceeding from
mechanical causes.
Scientific observation holds that the seeming rationality of human
actions is an illusion and a self-deception. Man is a toy in the
hands of elemental forces. He is merely a transforming station of
forces. All that which as it seems to him, he is doing, is in reality
done instead by external forces which enter him through air, food,
sunlight. Man does not perform a single action by himself. He is
merely a prism in which a line of action is refracted in a certain
manner. But just as the beam of light does not proceed from the
prism, so action does not proceed from the reason of man.
The "theoretical experiment" of certain German psycho-physi-
ologists is usually advanced in confirmation of this. They affirmed
that if it were possible, from the time of his birth, to deprive
a man of ALL EXTERNAL IMPRESSIONS: light, sound, touch, heat,
cold, etc., and at the same time preserve him alive, then such a man
would not be able to perform EVEN THE MOST INSIGNIFICANT ACTION.
From this it follows that man is an automaton, like that autom-
mon projected by the American inventor Tesla, which, obeying
electric currents find vi1'Tstious I'ominv. from It Icreat difltance without

186

TERTIUM ORGANUM

wires, was calculated to' execute a whole series of complicated move-
ments.
It follows from this that a.ll the actions of a man depend upon
outer impulses. For the smallest reflex, outer irritation is necessary.
For more complex action a whole series of preceding complex ir-
ritations is necessary. Sometimes between the irritation and the
action a considerable time elapses, and a man does not feel any
connection between the two. Therefore he regards his actions as
voluntary, though in reality there are no voluntary actions at all-
man cannot do anything by himself, just as a stone cannot jump
voluntarily: it is necessary that something should throw it up.
Man needs something to give him an impulse, and then he will
develop exactly as much force as such an impulse (and all pre.
ceding impulses) put into him and no trifle more. Such is the
teaching of positivism.
From the STANDPOINT OF LOGIC such a theory is more correct
than the theory of two classes of actionS-REASONED AND UN-
REASONED. It at least establishes the principle of NECESSARY
UNIFORMITY. It is really impossible to suppose that in an im-
mense machine certain parts move according to their own desire
and reasoning; there must be something uniform--either all parts
of the machine possess a consciousness of their function and act
according to this consciousness, or all are worked from one motor
and are driven by one transmission. The enormous service per-
formed by positivism is that it established this principle of uni-
formity. It is left to us to define in what this uniformity consists.
The positivistic hypothesis of the world considers that the basis
of everything is unconscious energy, which arose from unknown
causes at a time that is not known. This energy, after it has
passed through a whole series of invisible electro-magnetic and
physico-chemical processes, is expressed for us in visible and sensed
motion, then in growth, i. e., in the phenomena of life, and at
last in psychic phenomena.
This view has been already investigated and the conclusion
reached that it is impossible to regard physical phenomena as the
cause of PSYCHIC PHENOMENA, while on the other hand, psychic
phenomena serve as an undoubted cause for a great number of the
physical phenomena O'bserved by us. The observed process O'f

NOT H I N G "A eel DEN TAL" INN A T U R E 187
origination of psychic phenomena under the influence of outside
mechanical impulses does not at all mean that physical phenomena
create psychic phenomena. Such do not constitute the cause, but
are merely a shock, disturbing the balance. In order that outer
shocks may evoke psychic phenomena an organism is necessary,
i. e., a complex and animated life. The cause of psychic life
lies in the organism, its animatedness, which can be defined as a
potential of psychic life.
Then, from the very essence of the idea of motion-which is
the foundation of the physico-mechanical world-was deduced
the conclusion that motion is not an entirely obvious truth, that
the idea of motion arose in us because of the limitation and in.
completeness of our sense of space (a slit through which we ob.
serve the world). And it was established, not that the idea of
time is deduced from the observation of motion, but that the idea
of motion results from our "time-sense" -and that the idea
of motion is quite definitely the function of the "time-'sense," which
in itself is a limit or boundary of the space-sense belonging to a
being of a given psyche. It was also established that the idea of
motion could arise out of a comparison between two different fields
of consciousness. And in general, all analysis of the fundamental
categories of our knowledge of the world--space and time-
showed that we have absolutely no data whatever for accepting
motion as the fundamental principle of the world.
And if this is so-if it is impossible to assume behind the scenes
of the creation of the world the presence of an unconscious mechan-
ical motor-then it is necessary to consider the world as living
and rational. Because one or the other of two things must be
true: either it is mechanical and dead-"accidental"-or it is
living and animated. There can be nothing dead in living nature
and there can be nothing living in dead nature.

Nature exhibits a continual progress, starting from the mechanical and
chemical activity of the inorganic world, proceeding to the vegetable, with
its dull enjoyment of self, from that to the animal world, where intelli-
gence and consciousness began at first very weak, and only after many
intermediate stages attaining its last great development in man, whose
intellect is nature's crowning point, the goal of all her efforts, the most
perfect and difficult of all her works.

188 TERTIUM ORGANUM
So writes Schopenhauer in his Counsels and Maxims, and in-
deed it is very effectively expressed, but we have no foundation what-
soever for regarding man as the summit of that which nature has
created. This is only THE HIGHEST THAT WE KNOW.
Positivism would be absolutely correct in its picture of the world,
there would not be even one deficiency, if there were no reason in
the world, anywhere or at any time. Then it would be necessary,
nolens volens, to regard the universe as em accidentally self-crealed
mechanical toy in space. But the fact of the existence of psychic
life "spoils all the statistics." It is impossible to exclude it.
We are either forced to admit the existence of two principles-
"spirit" and "matter"-or to select one of them.
Then dualism annihilates itself, because if we admit the separate
existence of spirit and matter, and reason further on this basis, it
will be inevitably necessary to conclude, either that spirit is unreal
and matter real; or that matter is unreal and spirit real-i. e.,
either that spirit is material or that matter is spiritual. Conse-
quently it is necessary to select some one thing--spirit or matter.
But to think really MONISTICALLY is considerably more difljcult
than it seems. I have met many men who have called themselves
"monists," and sincerely considered themselves as such, but in
reality they never departed from the most naive dualism, and no
spark of undertanding of the world's unity ever Hashed upon
them.
Positivism, regarding "motion" or "energy" as the basis of
everything, can never .be "moni'stic." It is impossible to anni-
hilate the fact of psychic life. If it were possible not to take
this fact into consideration at all, then everything would be splendid,
and the universe could be something like an accidentally self-
created mechanical toy. But to its sorrow, positivism cannot deny
the existence of the psyche. It can only try to degrade it as low
as possible, calling it the reflection of reality, the substance of which
consists of motion.
But how deal with the fact that the "reHection" possesses in
this case an infinitely greater potentiality than the "reality"?
How can this be? From what does this reality reflect, or what
is it refracted in, that in its reflected state it possesses infinitely
greater potentiality than in its original state?

D U A LIS TIC T HI N KIN G 189
The consistent "materialist-monist" will be forced to say that
"reality" reflects from itself, i. e., "one motion" reflects from
another motion. But this is merely dialectics, and fails to make
clear the nature of psychic life, for it is something other than motion.

No matter how hard we may try to define thought in tenns of
motion, we nevertheless know that they are two different things,
different as regards our receptivity of them, belonging to different
worlds, incommensurable, capable of existing simultaneously.
Moreover, thought can exist without motion, but motion cannot exist
without thought, because out of the psyche comes the necessary
condition of motion-time: no psychic life-no time, as it exists
for us; no time--no motion. .
We cannot escape this fact, and thinking logically, we must inev-
itably recognize two principles. But if we begin to consider the
very recognition of two principles as illogical, then we must recog-
nize THOUGHT as a single principle, and motion as AN ILLUSION OF
THOUGHT.
But what does this mean? It means that there can be no
"monistic materialism." Materialism can be only dualistic, 1. e.,
it must recognize two principles: motion and thought.
Here a new difficulty arises.
Our concepts are limited by language. Our language is deeply
dualistic. This is indeed a terrible obstacle. I showed previously
how language retards our thought, making it impossible to express
the relations of a being universe. In our language only an eternally
bec(jming universe exists. The "Eternal Now" cannot be expressed
in language.
Thus our language pictures to us beforehand a false universe--
dual, when in reaIlty it is one; and eternally becoming when it is in
reality eternally being.
And if we come to realize the degree to which our language
falsifies the real view of the world, then the understanding of
this fact will enable us to see that it is not only difficult, but even
absolutely impossible to express in language the correct relation of
the things of the real world.

190 TERTIUM ORGANUM
This difficulty can be conquered only by the formation of new
concepts and by extended analogies.
Later on the principles and methods of this expansion of what
we already have, and what we can extract from our stores of
knowledge will be made clear. For the present it is only import-
ant to establish one thing-THE NECESSITY FOR UNIFORMITY: the
monism of the universe.
As a matter of principle it is not important which one we regard
as first cause, spirit or matter. It is essential to recognize their
unity.

-But what then is matter?
From one point of view, it is a logical concept, i. e., a form of
thinking. Nobody ever saw matter, nor will he ever-it is possible
only to think matter. From another point of view it is an illusion
accepted for reality. Even more truly, it is the incorrectly per-
ceived form of that which exists in reality. Matter is a section of
something; a non-existent, imaginary section. But that of which
matter is a section, exists. This is the real, low-dimensional
'World.
Wood, the substance from which this table (for example) is
made, exists; but the true natura of ite existence we do not know.
All that we know about it is just the form of our receptivity of it.
And if we should cease to exist, it would continue to exist, but
only for a receptivity acting similarly to ours. But in itself this
substance exists in some other way-How, we do not know: Cer-
tainly not in space and time, for we ourselves impose these forms
upon it. Probably all similatr wood, of different centuries, and
different parts of the world, constitutes one mass-one body-per-
haps one being. Certainly that substance (or that part of it) of
which this table is made, has no separate existence apart from our
receptivity. We fail to understand that a particular thing is merely
an artificial definition by our senses, of some indefinable cause
infinitely surpassing that thing.
'But a thing may acquire its own individual and unique soul;
and in that case the thing exists quite independently of our re-

THE AN ALOGICAL METHOD 191
ceptivity. Many things possess such souls, especially old things-
old houses, old books, works of art, etc.

But what ground have we for thinking that there is psychic life
in the world other than our human one, that of animals and of
plants?
First of all, of course, the thought that everything in the world
is alive and animated and that manifestations of life and ani-
matedness would naturally exist on all planes and in all forms.
But we can discern the psychic life only in forms analogous to
ours.
The question stands in this way: how could we know about the
existence of the psychic life of other sections of the world if they
exist?
By two methods: through COMMUNICATION, EXCHANGE OF
THOUGHTS, and through CONCLUSIONS BY ANALOGY.
For the first, it is necessary that our psyche should become simi-
lar to theirs, should transcend the limits of the three-dimensional
world, i. e., it is necessary to change the form of receptivity and
perception.
The second may result as a consequence of the gradual expan-
sion of the faculty of drawing inferences by analogy. By trying
to think out of the usual categories, by trying to look at things
and at ourselves from a new angle and simultaneously from many
sides, by trying to liberate our thinking from its accustomed cat-
egories of perception in space and time, little by little we begin
to notice analogies between things which we did not notice before.
Our mind grows, and with it grows the power to discover analogies.
This ability, with each new step attained, expands and enriches
the mind. Each minute we advance more rapidly, each new step
makes the next more easy. Our psyche becomes different. Then,
applying to ourselves this expanded ability to construct analogies,
and looking about we suddenly perceive all around ourselves a
psychic life the existence of which we were previously unaware.
And we understand the reason for this unawareness: this psychic
life belongs to another plane, and not to that to which our psychic
life is native. Thus in this case the ability to discover new analo-

192 TERTIUM ORGANUM
gies is the beginning of changes, which translate us into another
plane of existence.
The thought of a man begins to penetrate into the world of
noumena, which is in affinity with it. Then his point of view changes
likewise with regard to the things and events of the ph.enomenal
world. Phenomena may suddenly assume, to his eyes, quite
a different grouping. As already said, similar things may be dif-
ferent from one another in reality, different things may be similar;
quite separate, disconnected things may be part of one great whole,
of some entirely new category; and things which appear inextricably
united in one, constituting one whole, may in reality be manifesta-
tions of different beings having nothing in common among themselves,
even knowing nothing whatever about the existence of one another.
Such indeed may be any whole of our world-man, animal, planet,
planetary system-i. e., consisting of different psychic lives, a battle-
field as it were of warring entities.
In each whole of our world we perceive a multitude of opposing
tendencies, aspirations, efforts. Each aggregt1te is as it were an
arena of struggle for multitudes of opposing forcf!s, each of which
acts by ilself, is directed to its own goal, usually to the disruption
of the whole. But the interaction of these forces represents the
life of the whole; and in everything something is a1ways acting
which limits the activity of separate tendencies. This something
is the psychic life of the whole. We cannot establish the existence
of such a life by analogy with ourselves, or by intercourse with it,
or by exchange of thoughts, but a new path opens before us. We
perceive a certain separate and quite definite function (the preser-
. vation of the whole). Behind this function we infer a certain separ-
ate something. A separate something haying a definite function is
impossible without a separate psychic life. If the whole possesses its
own psychic life then the separate tendencies or forces must also
possess a psychic life of their own. A body or organism is the
point of intersection of such lines of forces, a place of meeting, per-
haps a battle-field. Our "I" is also that battle-field on which this or
that emotion, this or that habit or inclination gains an &.1vantage,
subjecting to itself all of the rest at every given moment, and indenti-
fying itself with the I. Our I is a being, having its own life,
imperfectly conscious of that of which it itself consists, and identify-

BEINGS OF THE HIGHER WORLD 193
ing itself with this or another portion of itself. Have we any warrant
for supposing that the organs and members of a body, thoughts
and emotions, are BEINGS also ? We have, because we know that
there exists nothing purely mechanical; and any something, having
a separate function, MUST BE animated and can be called a being.
All the beings assumed by us to exist in the world of many dimen-
sions, cannot know one another, i. e., cannot know that we are binding
them together in different wholes in our phenomenal world, just
as in general they cannot know our phenomenal world and its rela-
tions. But they must know themselves, although it is impossible for
us to define the degree of clearness of this consciousness. It may be
clearer than ours, and it may be more vague-dreamlike, as it were.
Between these beings there may be a continuous but imperfectly per-
ceived exchange of thoughts, analogous to the exchange of substance
in a living organism. They may experience certain feelings in
common, certain thoughts may arise in them spontaneously as it
were, under the influence of general causes. Upon the lines of this
inner communion they must divide themselves into different wholes
of some categories to us entirely incomprehensible, or only guessed
at. The essence of each such separate being must consist in its
knowledge of itself and its nearest fundtions and relations; it
must feel things analogous to itself, and must have the faculty of
telling about itself and them, i. e., this consciousness must always
behold a picture of itself and its conditioning relations. It is
eternally studying this picture and instantly communicating it to
another being coming into communion with it.
Whether these consciousnesses in sections of the world other
than ours exist or not, we, under the existing conditions of our re..
ceptivuy, cannot say. They can be sensed only by the changed
psyche. Our usual receptiyity and thinking are too absorbed
by the sensations of the phenomenal world, and by themselves, and
tllerefore do not reflect impressions coming to them from other be-
ings, or reflect them so weakly that they are not fixed there in any in-
telligible form. Moreover we do not recognize the fact that we are
in constant communion with the noumena of all surrounding things,
near and remote, with beings like ourselves and others entirely differ-
ent, with the life of everything in the world and of all the world.
But if the impressions coming from other beings are so forceful

194

TERTIUM ORGANUM

that the consciousness feels them, then our mind immediately pro-
jects them into the outer world of phenomena and seeks for their
cause in the phenomenal world, exactly in the same manner that a
two-dimensional being, inhabiting a plane, seeks in its plane for the
cause of the impressions which come from a higher world.

Our psyche is limited by its phenomenal receptivity, i. e., it is
surrounded by itself. The world of phenomena, i. e., the fonn of
its own perception, surrounds it as a ring, or as a wall, and it sees
nothing save this wall.
But if the psyche succeeds in escaping out of this limiting circle,
it will invariably see much that is new in the world.
If we will separate self-elements in our perception, writes Hinton [A
New Era of Thought, pp. 36, 37], then it will be found that the deadness
which we ascribe to the external world is not really there, but is put in
by us because of our own limitations. It is really the self-elements in our
knowledge which make us talk of mechanical necessity, dead matter. When
our limitations fall, we behold the spirit of the world as we behold the
spirit of a friend-something which is discerned in and through the
material presentation of a body to us.
Our thought means are sufficient at present to show us human souls; but
all except human beings is, as far as science is concerned, inanimate. Our
self-element must be got rid of from our perception, and this will be changed.
But is the unknowableness of the noumenal world as absolute
for us a'S it sometimes seems?
In The Critique of Pure Reason and in other writings, Kant denied
the possibility of "spiritual sight." But in Dreams of a Ghost-seer
he not only admitted this possibility, but gave to it one of the best
definitions which we have ever had up to now. He clearly affirms:
I confess that I am very much inclined to assert the existence of im-
material natures in the world, and to put my soul itself into that class
of beings. These immaterial beings. . . are immediately united with each
other, they might form, perhaps, a great whole which might be called
the immaterial world. Every man is a being of two worlds: of the incor-
poreal world and of the material world . . . and it will be proved I don't
know where or when, that the human soul also in this life forms an indis-
lIoluble communion with all immaterial natures of the spirit-world, that,
alternately, it acts upon and receives impressions from that world of which

KANT ON THE LIFE OF SPIRIT 195
nevertheless it is not conscious while it is still man and as long as every.
thing is in proper condition . . .
We should, therefore, have to regard the human soul as being conjoined
in its present life with two worlds at the same time, of which it clearly
perceives only the material world, in so far as it is conJoined with a body,
and thus forms a personal unit. . . .
It is therefore, indeed, one subject, which is thus at the same time a
member of the visible and of the invisible world, but not one and the
same person; for on account of their different quality, the conceptions of
the one world are not ideas associated with those of the other world;
thus, what I think as a spirit, is not remembered by me as a man, and,
conversely, my state as a man does not at all enter into the conception
of myself as a spirit.
Birth, life, death are the states of soul only. . . Consequently, our body
only is perishable, the essence of us is not perishable, and must have been
existent during that time when our body had no existence. The life
of the man is dual. It consists of two lives-one animal and one spiritual.
The first life is the life of man, and man needs a body to live this life.
The second life is the life of spirit; his soul lives in that life separately
from the body, and must live on in it after the separation from the body.

In an essay on Kant In The Northern Messenger (1888, Russian),
A. L. V olinsky says that both in V orlesungen, and also in Dreams
of a Ghost-seer, Kant denied the possibility of one thing only-
the possibility of the physical receptivity of spiritual phenomena.
Thus Kant admitted not only the possibility of the existence of
a spiritual conscious world, but also the possibility of communion
with it.
Hegel built all his philosophy upon the possibility of a direct
knowledge of truth, upon spiritual vision.
Approaching the question of two worlds from the psychological
standpoint, from the standpoint
f the theory of knowledge, let
us finnly establish the principle that before we can hope to com-
prehend anything in the region of noumena, we must define every-
thing that it is possible to define of the world of many dimensions
by a purely intellectual method, by a process of reasoning. It is
highly probable that by this method we cannot define very much.
Perhaps our definitions will be too crude, will not quite correspond
to the fine differentiation of relations in the noumenal world: all
this is possible and must be taken into consideration. Nevertheless
we shall define what we can, and at the outset make as clear as
possible what the noumenal world cannot be; then what it can be--

196

TERTIUM ORGANUM

ehow what relations are impossible in it;, and what are possible

This is necessary in order that we, coming in contact with the real
world, may discriminate between it and the phenomenal world, and
what is more important, that we may not mistake simple reflections
of the phenomenal world for the noumenal. We do not know the
world of causes; we are confined in the jail of the phenomenal world
simply because we do not know how to discern where one ends
and where the other begins.
We are in constant touch with the world of causes, we live in it,
because our psyche and our incomprehensible function in the world
are part of it or a reflection of it. But we do not see or know it be-
cause we either deny it-consider that everything existing is phenom-
enal, and that nothing exists except the phenomenal-or we recognize
it, but try to comprehend it in the forms of the three-dimensional
phenomenal world; or lastly, we search for it and find it not, because
we lose our way amid the deceits and illusions of the reflected
phenomenal world which we mistakenly accept for the noumenal
world.
In this dwells the tragedy of our spiritual questings: we do not
know what we are searching for. And the only method by which
we can escape this tragedy consists in a preliminary intellectual
definition of the properties of that of which we are in search. With-
out such definitions, going merely by indefinite feelings, we shall
not approach the world of causes or else we shall get lost on its bor-
derland.
Spinoza understood this, saying that he could not speak of God,
not knowing his attributes.

When I studied Euclid, I learned first of all that the sum of three angles
of a triangle was equal to two right angles, and this property of a triangle
was entirely comprehensible to me, although I did not know its many other
properties. But so far as spirits and ghosts are concerned, I do not know
even one of their attributes, but constantl'y hear different fantastic tales
about them in which it is impossible to discover any truth.

We have established certain criteria which permit us to deal with
the world of noumena or the "world of spirits." These we shall
make use of now_

THE WORLD OF CAUSES

197

First of all we may say that the world of noumena cannot be
three-dimensional and that there cannot be anything three-dimen-
sional in it, i. e., commensurable with physical objects, similar to
them in outside appearance, having form-there cannot be anything
having extension in space and changing in time. And most im-
portant, there cannot be anything dead or inanimate. In the world
of causes everything must be alive, because it is life itself: the soul
of the world.
Let us remember also that the world of causes is the world of the
marvelous; that what appears simple to us can never be real. The
real appears to us as the marvelous. We do not believe in it, we
do not recognize it; and therefore we do not feel the mysteries of
which life is so full.
The simple is only that which is unreal. The real must seem
marvelous.
The mystery of time penetrates all. It is felt in every stone,
which perhaps might have witnessed the glacial period, seen the
ichthyosaurus and the mammoth. It is felt in the approaching
day, which we do not see, but which possibly sees us, which per-
chance is our last day; or on the other hand is the day of some
transformation the nature of which we do not ourselves now know.
The mystery of thought creates all. As soon as we shall under-
stand that thought is not a

fW1ction of motion," but that motion
itself is only a function of thought-and shall begin to feel the
depth of THIS MYSTERY-We shall perceive that the entire phenom-
enal world is some gigantic hallucination, which fails to frighten us,
and does not drive us to think that we are mad simply because we
have become accustomed to it.
The mystery of infinity-the greatest of all mysteries-it tells us
that all the visible universe and its galaxies of stars have no dimen-
sion: that in relation to infinity they are equal to a point, a xnathe-
matical point which has no extension whatever, and that points which
are not measurable for us may have a different extension and differ-
ent dimensions. .
In "positive" thinking we make the effort TO FORGET ABOUT ALL
THIS: NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT.
At some future time positivism will be defined as a system by
the aid of which it was possible not to think of real things and to
limit oneself to the region of the unreal and illusory.

CHAPTER XVII

A living and rational universe. Different forms and lines of rationality.
Animated nature. The souls of stones and the souls of trees. The
soul of a forest. The human "I" as a collective rationnlity. Man
as a complex being. "Humanity" as a being. The world's soul.
The face of Mahadeva. Prof. James on the consciousness of the uni-
verse. Fechner's ideas. Zendavesta. A living Earth.

I F rationality exists in the world, then it must permeate every-
thing, although manifesti
g itself variously.
We have accus'tomed ourselves to ascribe animism and ra-
tionality in this or that form to those things only which we designate
as "beings," i. e., to those whom we find analogous to ourselves in the
functions which define ANIMISM in our eyes.
Inanimate objects and mechanical phenomena are to us lifeless
and irrational.
But this canoot be so.
It is only for our limited mind, for our limited power of com-
munion with other minds, for our limited skill in analogy that rl'tion-
ality and psychic life in general manifest only in certain classes
of living creatures, alongside of which a long series of dead things
and mechanical phenomena exist.
But if we could not converse among ourselves, if every one of
us could not infer the existence of rationality and of psychic life
in another by analogy with himself, then everyone would consider
himself alone to be alive and animated, and he would relegate all
the rest of humankind to mechanical, "dead" nature.
In other words, we recognize as animated only those beings which
have psychic life accessible to our observation in three-dimensional
sections of the world, i. e., beings whose psyche is analogous to
ours. About other consciousness we do not know and cannot know.
All "beings" whose psychic does not manifest itself in the three-
dimensional section of the world are inaccessible to us. If they
contact our life at all, then we necessarily regard their manifesta-
tions as those of dead and unconscious nature. Our power of an-
198

N A T U R E CON S C IOU SAN DAN I MAT E 199
alogy is limited to this section. We cannot think logically outside
of the conditions of the three-dimensional section. Therefore every-
thing that lives, thinks and feels in a manner not analogous to us
must appear dead and mechanical.
But sometimes we vaguely feel an intense life manifesting in the
phenomena of nature, and sense a vivid emotionality the manifes-
tations of which constitute the phenomena of (to us) inanimate na-
ture. What I wish to convey is that behind the phenomena of vis-
ible manifestations is felt the noumenon of emotion.
In electrical discharges, in thunder and lightning, in the rush and
howling of the wind, are seen flashes of the sensuous-nervous shud-
derings of some gigantic organism.
A strange individuality which is all their own is sensed in certain
days. There are days brimming with the marvelous and the mystic,
days having each its own individual and unique consciousness, its
own emotions, its own thoughts. One may almost commune with
these days. And they will tell you that they live a long, long time,
perhaps eternally, and that they have known and seen many, many
things.
In the processional of the year; in the iridescent leaves of autumn,
with their memory-laden smell; in the first snow, frosting the fields
and communicating a strange freshness and sensitiveness to the
air; in the spring freshets, in the warming sun, in the awakening
but still naked branches through which gleams the turquoise sky;
in the white nights of the north, and in the dark, humid, warm
tropical nights spangled with stars-in all these are the thoughts,
the emotions, the forms, peculiar to itself alone, of some great con-
sciousness; or better, all this is the expression of the emotions,
thoughts and forms of consciousness of a myterious being-Nature.
There can be nothing dead or mechanical in nature. If in general
life and feeling exist, they must exist in all. Life and rationality
make up the world.
If we consider nature from our side, from the side of phenomena,
then it is necessary to say that each thing, each phnomenon, possesses
a psyche of its own.
A MOUNTAIN, A TREE, A RIVER, THE FISH WITHIN THE RIVER,
DEW AND RAIN, PLANET, FIRE-each separately must possess a
psyche of its own.
If we consider nature from the other side, from the side of nou-

200 TERTIUM ORGANUM
mena, then it is necessary to say that each thing and each phenome-
non of our world is a manifestation in our section of a rationality
incomprehensible to us, belonging to another section, the same hav-
ing there functions incomprehensible to us. In that section of space,
one rationality is such and its function is such that it manifests it-
self here as a mountain, some other manifests as a tree, a third as
a IUtie fish, and so forth.
The phenomena of our world are very differ
nt from one another.
If they are nothing else but manifestations in our section of different
rational beings, then these beings must be very different too.
Between the psyche of a mountain and the psyche of d man there
must be the same difference as between a mountain and a man.
We have already admitted the possibility of different existences.
We said that a house exists, and that a man exists, and that an idea
exists also-but they all exist differently. If we pursue this thought,
then we shall discover many kinds of different existences.
The fantasy of fairy tales, making all the world animate, ascribes
to mountains, rivers, forests a psychic life similar to that of men.
But this is just as untrue as the complete denial of consciousness to
inanimate nature. Noumena are as distinct and various as phe-
nomena, which are their manifestation in our three-dimensional
sphere.
Each stone, each grain of sand, each planet has its noumenon,
consisting of life and of psyche, binding them into certain wholes
incomprehensible to us.
The activity of life of separate units may vary greatly. The
degree of the activity of life can be determined from the standpoint
of its power of reproducing itself. In inorganic, mineral nature,
this activity is so insignificant that units of this nature accessible to
our observoJion do not reproduce themselves, although it may only
seem so to us because of the narrowness of our view in time and
space. Perhaps if that view embraced hundreds of thousands of
years and our entire planet simultaneously, we might then see the
growth of minerals and metals.
Were we to observe, from the inside, one cubic centimeter of the
human body, knowing nothing of the existence of the entire body
and of the man himself, then the phenomena going on in this little
cube of flesh would seem like elemental phenomena in inanimate
nature.

DIFFERENT ORDERS OF PSYCHIC LIFE 201
But in any case, for us phenomena are divided into living and
mechanical, and visible objects are divided into organic and inor-
ganic. The latter are partitioned w;thout resistance, remaining
as they were before. It is possible to break a atone in halves, and
then there will be two stones. But if one were to cut a snail in two,
then there would not be two snails. This means that the psyche
of the stone is very simple, primitive--so simple that it may be
fractured without change of state. But a snail consists of living
cells. Each living cell is a complex being, considerably more in-
tricate than that of a stone. The body of the snail possesses the
power to move, to nourish itself, feel pleasure and pain, seek the
.first and avoid the last; and most important of all, it possesses the
faculty to multiply, to create new fonns sitnilar to itself, to involve
inorganic substance within these fonns, subduing physical laws to
its service. The snail is a complex centre of trans

tation of some
physical energies into others. This centre possesses a consciousness
of its own. It is for this reason that the snail is indivisible. Its
psyche is infinitely higher than that of the stone. The snail has the
consciousness of form, i. e., the form of a snail is conscious of itself,
as it were. The fonn of a stone is not conscious of itself.
In organic nature where we see life, it is easier to assume the
existence of a psyche. In the snail, a living creature, we already
admit without difficulty a certain kind of psyche. But life belongs
not alone to separate, individual organisms-anything indivisible
is a living being. Each cell in an organism is a living being and it
must have a certain psychic life.
Each combination of cells having a definite function is a living
being also. Another higher combination-the organ-is a living
being no less, and possesses a pychic life of its own.
Indivisibility in our sphere is the sign of a definite function. If
a given phenomenon in our plane is a manifestation of that which
exists on another plane, then on our side evidently, indivisibility
corresponds to individUlllity on that other side. Divisibility on our
side shows divisibility on that side. The rationality of the divisible
can express itself in a collective, non-individual reason only.
But even a complete organism is merely a section of a certain
magnitude, of what we may call the life of this organism from birth
to death. We may imagine this life as a body of four dimensions
extended in time. The three-dimensional physical body is merely

202

TERTIUM ORGANUM

a section of the four-dimensional body, Linga-Sharim. The image
of the man which we know, his "personality," is also merely a sec-
tion of his true personality, which undoubtedly has its separate
psychic life. Therefore we may assume in man three psychic lives:
first, the psychic life of the body, which m.anifests itself in instincts,
and in the constant work of the body; second, his personality, a com-
plex and constantly changing I, which we know, and in which we
are conscious of ourselves; third, the consciousness of all life-a
greater and higher I. In our state of development these three psy_
chic lives know one another only very imperfectly, communicating
under narcosis only, in trance, in ecstacy, in sleep, in hypnotic and
mediumistic states, i. e., in other states of consciousness.
In addition to our own psychic lives, with which we are ind'issolu-
bly bound, but which we do not know, we are surrounded by various
other psychic J
'lJes which we do not know either. These lives we
often feel, they are composed of our lives. We enter into these
lives as their component parts, just as into our life enter different
other lives. These lives are good or evil spirits, helping us or pre-
cipitating evil. Family, clan, nation, race-any aggregate to which
we belong (such an aggregate undoubtedly possesses a life of its
own), any group of men having its separate function and feeling
its inner connection and unity, such as a philosophical school, a
"church," a sect, a masonic order, a society, a party, etc., etc., is
undoubtedly a living being possessing a certain rationality. A
nation, a people, is a living being; humanity is a living being also.
This is the Grand Man, ADAM KADMON of the Kabalists. ADAM
KADMON is a being living in men, uniting in himself the lives of
all men. Upon this subject, H. P. Blavatsky, in her great work,
The Secret Doctrine (Vol. III, p. 146), has this to say:
. . . "It is not the Adam of dust (of Chapter II) who is thus made
in the divine image, but the Divine Androgyne (of Chapter I), or
Adam Kadmon."
ADAM KADMoN is HUMANITY, or humankind- Homo Sapiens-
the SPHYNX, i. e., "the being with the body of an animal and the face
of a supennan."
Entering as a component part into different great and little lives
man himself consists of an innumerable number of great and little
I's. Many of the I's living in him do not even know one another,
just as men who live in the sam.e house may not know one another.

BOD Y SOU LAN D S PI R I T

203

Expressed in terms of this analogy, it may be said that "man" has
much in common with a Muse filled with inhabitants the most di-
verse. Or better, he is like a great ocean liner on which are many
transient passengers, each going to his own place for his own pur-
pose, each uniting in himself elements the most diverse. And each
separate unit in the population of this steamer orientates himself,
involuntarily and unconsciously regards himself as the very centre
of the steamer. This is a fairly true presentment of a human being.
Perhaps it would be more correct to compare a man with some
little separate place on earth, living a life of its own; with a forest
lake, full of the most diverse life, r:efleoting the sun and stars, and
hiding in its depths some incomprehensible phantasm, perhaps an
undine, or a water-sprite.
If we abandon analogies and return to facts, so far as these are
accessible to our observation, it then becomes necessary to begin
with several somewhat artificial divisions of the human being. The
old division into body, soul and spirit, has in itself a certain au-
thenticity, hut leads often to confusion, because when such a divi-
sion is attempted disagreements immediately arise as to where the
body ends and where the soul begins, where the soul ends and the
spirit begins, and so forth. There are no strict limits at all, nor can
there be. In addition to this, confusion enters in by reason of the
opposition of body, soul and spirit, which are recognized in this
case as inimical principles. This is entirely erroneous also, because
the body is the expression of the soul, and the soul of the spirit.
The very tenns, body, soul and spirit need explanation. The
"body" is the physical body with its (to us)little understood mind;
the soul-the psyche studied by scientific psychology-is the reflected
activity which is guided by impressions received from the external
world and from the body. The "spirit" comprises those higher
principles which guide, or under certain conditions may guide, the
soul-life.
Thus a human being contains in itself the following three cate-
gories.
First: the body-the region of instincts, and the inner "instinctive"
consciousnesses of the different organs, parts of the body, and the en-
tire organism.
Second: the soul-consisting of sensations, perceptions, concep-
tions, thoughts, emotions and desires.

204 TERTIUM ORGANUM
Third: the region of the unknown-consciousness, will, and the
one I, i. e., those things which in ordinary man are in potentiality
only.

Under the usual conditions of the average man the extremely
misty focus of his consciousness is confined to the psyche perpet-
ually going from one object to anoth
r.
I wish to eat.
I read a newspaper.
I wait for a letter.
Only rarely does it touch the regions which give access to the re-
ligious, esthetic and moral emotions, and to the higher intellect,
which expresses itself in abstract thinking, united with the moral
and esthetic sense, i. e., the sense of the necessity of the co-ordination
of thought, feeling, word and action.
"In saying "I," a man means, of course, not the total complex
of all these regions, but that which in oR given moment is in the focus
of his consciousness. ccI wish" (or more correctly, simply "wish,"
because man very seldom says I wish): these words (or this word),
playing the most important role in the life of man, usually refer not
at all to every side of his being simultaneously, but merely to some
sm.all and insignificant facet, which at a given moment holds the
focus of consciousness and subjects to itself all the rest, until it in
turn is forced out by another equally insignificant facet.
In the psyche of man there occurs a continual shifting of view
from one subject to another. Through the focus of receptivity
runs a continuous cinematographical film of feelings and im-
pressions, and each separate impression defines the I of a given mo-
ment.
From this point of view the psyche of man has often been com-
pared to a dark, sleeping town in the midst of which night-guards
with lanterns slowly move about, each lighting up a little circle
around himself. This is a perfectly true analogy. In each given
moment there are several such unsteadily lighted circles in the focus,
and all the rest is enveloped in darkness.
Each such little lighted circle represents an I, living its own life,

AN IMMOB ILE UNIVERSE 205
sometimes very short. And there is continuous movement, either
fast or slow, moving out into the light more of new and still new ob-
jects, or else old ones from the region of memory, or tormentingly
revolving in a circle of the same fixed ideas.
This continuous motion going on in our psyche, this uninterrupted
running over of the light from one I to another, perhaps explains
the phenomenon of motion in the outer visible world.
We know already by our intellect, that there is no such motion.
We know that everything exists in infinite spaces of time, nothing
is made, nothing becomes, all is. But we do not see everything
at once, and therefore it seems to us that everything moves, grows,
is becoming. We do not see everything at once, either in the outer
world, or in the inner world; thence arises the illusion of motion.
For example, as we ride past a house the house turns behind us; but
if we could see it, not with our eyes, not in perspective, but by
some sort of vision, simultaneously from all sides, from below
and from above and from the inside, we should no longer see that il.
lusory motion, but would see the house entirely immobile, just
as it is in reality. Mentally, we know that the house did not
move.
It is just the same with everything else. The motion, growth,
"becoming," which is going on .all around us in the world is no
more real than the motion of a house which we are riding by, or
the motion of trees and fields relative to the windows of a rapidly
moving railway car.
Motion goes on inside of us, and it creates the illusion of motion
round about us. The lighted circle runs quickly from one I to an-
other-from one object, from one idea, from one perception 01
image to another: within the focus of consciousness rapidly changing
I's succeed one another, a little of the light of consciousness going
over from one I to another. This is the true motion which alone
exists in the world. Should this motion stop, should all I's simul-
taneously enter the focus of receptivity, should the light so expand
as to illumine all at once that which is usually lighted bit by bit and
gradually, and could a man grasp simultaneously by his reason all
that ever entered or will enter his receptivity and all that which is
never clearly illumined by thought (producing its action on the
psyche nevertheless)-then would a man behold himself in the midst
of an immobile universe, in which there would exist simultaneously

206 TERTIUM ORGANUM
everything that lies usually in the remote depths of memory, in the
past; all that lies at a remote distance from him; all that lies in
the future.
C. H. Hinton very well says, in regard to beings of other sections
of the world:

By the same process by which we know about the existence of other
men around us, we may kno,w of the high intelligences by whom we are
surrounded. We feel them but we do not realize them.
To realize them it will be necessary to develop our power of precep-
tio,n.
The power of seeing with our bodily eye is limited to the three-dimen-
sional section. But the inner eye is not thus limited; we can organize our
po,wer of seeing in higher space, and we can form conceptions of realities
in this higher space.
And this affo,rds the groundwork for the perception and study of these
other beings than man.
We are, with reference to, the higher things of life, like blind and
puzzled children. We kno,w that we are members of o,ne bo,dy, limbs of
one vine; but we cannot discern, except by instinct and feeling, what that
body is, what the vine is.
Our prdblem consists in the diminution of the limitations of our per-
ceptio,n.
Nature consists of many entities toward the apprehension of which we
strive.
For this purpose new conceptions have to be fo,rmed first, and vast fields
of observation shall be unified under one common law. The real history of
progress lies in the growth oj new conceptions.
When the new conception is formed it is fo,und to be quite simple and
natural. We ask ourselves what we have gained; and we answer: Nothing;
we have simply remo,ved an obvious limitatio,n.
The question may be put: In what way do, we come into co,ntact with these
higher beings at present? And evidently the answer is: In those ways in
which we tend to fonn organic unions-unions in which the activities of
individuals coalesce in a living way.
The coherence of a military empire o,r of a subjugated population, pre-
senting no natural nucleus of growth, is no,t o,ne thro,ugh which we should
ho,pe to grow into direct contact with our higher destinies. But in friend.
ship, in voluntary associatio,ns and above all in the family, we tend
towards our greater life.
Just as, to, explore the distant stars of the heavens, a particular material
arrangement is necessary which we call a telesco,pe, so, to, explore the
nature of the beings who, are higher than we, 8 mental arrangement is
necessary. We must prepare a more extended power of Io,o,king. We

THE ANIMISM OF NATURE 207
want a structure developed inside the skull for the one purpose which an
exterior telescope will do for the other.

This animism of nature takes the most diverse directions. This
tree is a living being. The birch tree in general-the species is a
living being. A birch tree forest is a living being also. A forest
in which there are trees of different kinds, grass, flowers, ants,
beetles, birds, beasts-this is a living being too, living by the life of
everything composing it, thinking and feeling for all of which it
consists.
This idea is very interestingly expressed in the essay of P. Floren-
sky, The Humanitarian Roots of Idealism. (The Theologictil Mes-
senger, 1909, II, p. 288. In Russian.)

Are there many people who regard a forest not merely as a collective
pr.oper noun and rhetorical embodiment, i. e., as a pure fiction, but as
something unique, living? . . . The real unity is a unity of self-conscious-
ness. . . . Are there many who recognize unity in a forest, i. e., the living
soul of a forest taken as a whole-voodoo, wood-demon, Old Nick? Do
you consent to recognize undines and water-sprites--those souls of the
aquatic element?

The activity of the life of such a composite being as a forest is
not the same as the activity of different species of plants and ani-
mals, and the activity of the life of a species is again different from
the life of separate individuals.
Moreover, the diversity of the functions expressed in different
life-activities reveals the differences existing between the psychic
lives of different "organisms." The life-activity of a single leaf
of a birch tree, is of course an infinitely lower form of activity than
the life of the tree. The activity of the life of the tree is not such
as the activity of the life of the species, and the life of the species
is not such as the life of the forest.
The functions of these four "lives" are entirely different, and
their rationality must be correspondingly different also.
The rationality of a single cell of the human body must be as
much lower in comparison with the rationality of the body-i. e.,
with the "physical consciousness of man"-as its life-activity is
lower in comparison with the life-activity of the entire organism.

208

TERTIUM ORGANUM

Therefore, from a certain standpoint, we may regard the nou-
menon of a phenomenon as the soul of that phenomenon, i.e., we may
Bay that the hidden soul of a phenomenon is its noumenon. The
concept of the soul of a phenomenon or the noumenon of a phe-
nomenon includes within itself both life and rationality together
with their functions in sections of the world. incomprehensible to us;
and the manifestation of those in our sphere constitutes a phenom-
enon.
The idea of an animistic universe leads inevitably to the idea
of a "World-Soul" -a "Being" whose manifestation is this visible
universe.
The idea of the "Wodd-Soul" was very picturesquely under-
stood in the ancient religions of India. The mystical poem, The
Bhagavad Gitii gives a remarkable presentment of Mahadeva, i. e.,
the great Deva whose life is this world.

Thus Krishna propounded his teaching to his disciples. . . . preparing
them for an apprehension of those high spiritual truths which unfold be-
fore his inner sight in a moment of illumination.
When he spoke of Mahadeva his voice became very deep, and his face
was illuminated by an inner light.
Once Arjuna, in an impulse of boldness, said to him:
Let us see Mahadeva in his divine form. May we behold him?
And then Krishna . . . began to speak of a being who breathes in
every creature, has an hundred-fold and a thousand.fold forms, many-
faced, many-eyed, facing everywhere, and who surpasses everything created
by infinity, who envelops in his body the whole world, things stilI and
animate. If the radiance of a thousand suns should burst forth suddenly
in the sky, it would not compare with the radiance of that Mighty Spirit.
When Krishna spoke thus of Mahadeva, a beam of light of such tremen-
dous force shone in his eyes, that his disciples could not endure the radiance
of that light, and fell at Krishna's feet. From very fear the hair rose on
Arjuna's head, and bowing low he said: Thy words are terrible, we can-
not look upon such a being as Thou evokest before our eyes. His form
makes us tremble.-

In an interesting book of lectures by Prof. William James,
A Pluralistic Universe, there is a lecture on Fechner, devoted to "a
. . "
conSCIOUS unIverse.

Ordinary monistic idealism leaves everything intermediary out. It rec.
ognizes only extremes, as if, after the first rude face of the phenomenal
· "The Great Initiates," by E. Schure.

FECHNER'S IDEAS

209

world in all its particularity, nothing but the supreme in all its perfection
could be found. First, you and I, just as we are in this room; and the
moment we get below that surface, the unutterable itself! Doesn't this
show a singularly indigent imagination? Isn't this brave universe made
on a richer pattern, with room in it for a long hierarchy of beings? Mater-
ialistic science makes it infinitely richer in terms, with its molecules, and
ether, and electrons and what not. Absolute idealism, thinking of reality
only under intellectual forms, knows not what to do with bodies of any
grade, and can make no use of any psycho-physical analogy or corres-
pondence.

Fechner, from whose writings Prof. James makes copious quo-
tations, upheld quite a different view-point. Fechner's ideas are
so near to those which have been presented in the previous chapters
that we shall dwell upon them more extensively.
I use the words of Prof. James: .

The original sin, according to Fechner, of both our popular and scien-
tific thinking, is our inveterate habit of regarding the spiritual not as the
rule but as an exception in the midst of nature. Instead of believing our
life to be fed at the breasts of the greater life, our individuality to be
sustained by the greater individuality, which must necessarily have more
consciousness and more independence than all that it brings forth, we
habitually treat whatever lies outside of our life as 80 much slag and ashes
of life only.
Or if we believe in Divine Spirit, we fancy it on the one side as bodiless,
and nature as soulless on the other.
What comfort, or peace, Fechner asks, can come from such a doctrine?
The flowers wither at its breath, the stars turn into stone; our own body
grows unworthy of our spirit and sinks to a tenement for carnal senses
only. The book of nature turns into a volume on mechanics, in which
whatever has life is treated as a sort of anomaly; a great chasm of sepa-
ration yawns between us and all that is higher than ourselves; and God
becomes a thinnest of abstractions.
Fechner's great instrument for verifying the daylight view is anal.
ogy. . . .
Bain defines genius as the puwer of seeing analogies.
The number that Fechner could perceive was prodigious; but he in-
sisted on the differences as well. Neglect to make allowance for these, he
said, is the common fallacy in analogical reasoning.
Most of us, for example, reasoning justly that, since all the minds we
know are connected with bodies, therefore God's mind should be con-
nected with a body, proceed to suppose that that body must be just an
animal body over again, and paint an altogether human picture of God.

210 TER TIUM ORGANUM
But all that the analogy comports is a body-the particular features of
our body are adaptations to a habitat so different from God's that if
God have a physical body at all, it must be utterly different from ours
in structure.
The vaster orders of mind go with the vaster orders of body. The
entire earth on which we live must have, according to Fechner, its own
collective consciousness. So must each sun, moon, planet; so must the
whole solar system have its own wider consciousness, on which the con-
sciousness of our earth plays one part. So has the entire starry system
as such its consciousness; and if that starry system be not the sum of
all that IS, materially considered, then that whole system, along with
whatever else may be, is the body of that absolutely totalized conscious.
ness of the universe to which men give the name of God. Specula.
tively Feclmer is thus a monist in his theology; but there is room in his
universe for every grade of spiritual being .between man and the final all.
inclusive God.
The earth-soul he passionately believes in; he treats the earth as our
special human guardian angel; we can pray to the earth as men pray to
their saints.
His most important conclusion is, that the constitution of the world
is identical throughout. In ourselves, visual consciousness goes with
our eyes, tactile consciousness with OUr skin. But although neither
skin nor eye knows aught of the sensations of the other, they come
together and figure in some sort of relation and combination in the more
inclusive consciousness which each of us names his self. Quite similarly,
then, says Fechner, we must suppose that my consciousness of myself
and yours of yourself, although in their immediacy they keep separate
and know nothing of each other, are yet known and used together in a
higher consciousness, that of the human race, say, into which they enter
as constituent parts.
Similarly, the whole human and animal kingdoms come together as
conditions of a consciousness of still wider scope. This combines in
the soul of the earth with the consciousness of the vegetable kingdom,
which in turn contributes its share of experience to that of the whole
solar system, etc. .
The supposition of an earth-consciousness meets a strong instinctive
prejudice. All the consciousness we directly know seems told to brains.
But our brain, which primarily serves to correlate our muscular reactions
with the external objects on which we depend, performs a function which
the earth performs in an entirely different way. She has no proper
muscles or limbs of her own, and the only objects external to her are the
other stars. To these her whole mass reacts by most exquisite alter-
ations in its total gait, and by still more exquisite vibratory responses in
its substance. Her ocean reflects the lights of heaven as on a mighty
mirror, her atmosphere refracts them like a monstrous lens, the clouds

RELA TION OF MAN TO HIS WORLD 211
and snow-fields combine them into white, the woods and flowers disperse
them into col'ors. Polarization, interference, absorption awaken sensi.
bilities in matter df which our senses are too coarse to take any note.
For these cosmic relations of hers, then, she no more needs a special
brain than she needs eyes or ears. Qu:r brains do indeed unify and cor.
relate innumerable functions. Our eyes know nothing of sound, our
ears nothing of light, but having brains, we can fee) sound and light
together, and compare them. . . . . . Must every higher means of uni-
fication ibetween things be a literal brain.fibre? Cannot the earth.mind
know otherwise the contents of our minds together?
In a striking page Fechner relates one of his moments of direct vision
of truth.
"On a certain morning I went out to walk. The fields were green,
the birds sang, the dew glistened, the smoke was rising, here and there
a man appeared, a light as of transfiguration lay on all things. It was
only a little bit of earth; it was only one moment of her existence; and
yet as my look embraced her more and more it seemed to me not only
so beautiful an idea, but so true and clear a fact, that she is an angel-an
angel carrying me along with her into Heaven. . . . I asked myself how
the opinions of men could ever have so spun themselves away from life so
far as to deem the earth only a dry clod. . . But such an experience as
this passes for fantasy. The earth is a globular body, and what more she
may be, one can find in mineralogical cabinets."
The special thought of Fechner's is his belief that the more in-
clusive forms of consciousness are in part constituted by the more limited
forms. Not that they are the mere sum of the more limited forms. As
our mind is not the bare sum of our sights plus our sounds, pluS' ou,r
pains, but in adding these terms together it also finds relations among
them and weaves them into schemes and forms and objects of which
no one sense in its separate estate knows anything, so the earth-soul
traces relations between the contents of my mind and the contents of
yours of which neither of our separate minds is conscious. It has
schemes, forms, and objects proportionate to its wider field, which our
mental fields are far too narrow to cognize. By ourselves we are simply
out of relation with each other, for we are both of us there, and different
from each other, which is a positive relation. What we are without
knowing, it knows that we are. It is as if the total universe of inner life
had a sort of grain or direction, a sort of valvular structure, permitting
knowledge to flow in one way only, so that the wider might always have
the narrower under observation, but never the narrower the wider.
Fechner likens our individual persons on the earth unto so many
sense-organs of the earth-soul. We add to its perceptive life. . . . It ab-
sorbs our perceptions into its larger sphere of knowledge, and com-
bines them with the other data there. The memories and conceptual
relations that have spun themselves round the perceptions of a certain

212

TERTIUM ORGANUM

person remain in the larger earth-life as distinct as ever, and form new
relations. . . ."
Fechner's ideas are expounded in his book, Zendavesta.

I have made such a lengthy quotation from Prof. James' book
in order to show that the ideas of the animism and of the rationality
of the world are neither new nor paradoxical. It is a natural and
logical necessity, resulting from a broader view of the world than
that which we usually permit ourselves to hold.
Logically we must either recognize life and rationality in every-
thing, in all "dead nature," or deny them completely, even IN OUR-
SELVES.

CHAPTER XVIII

Rationality and life. Life as knowledge. Intellect and emotions. Emo.
tion as an organ of knowledge. The evolution of emotion from the
standpoint of knowledge. Pure and impure emotions. Personal
and impersonal emotions. Personal and super-personal emotions.
The elimination of self-elements as a means of approach to true
knowledge. "Be as little children. . .." "Blessed are the pure in
heart. . .." The value of morals from the standpoint of knowl-
edge. The defects of intellectualism. Dreadnaughts as the crown
of intellectual culture. The dangers of morality. Moral esthetics.
Religion and art as organized forms of emotional knowledge. The
knowledge of God and the knowledge of Beauty.
T HE MEANING OF LIFE-this is the eternal theme of human
meditation. All philosophical systems, all religious teach-
ings strive to find and give to men the answer to this ques-
tion. Some say that the meaning of life is in service, in the surren-
der of self, in self-sacrifice, in the sacrifice of everything, even life
itself. Others declare that the meaning of life is in the delight of it,
relieved against "the expectation of the final horror of death."
Some say that the meaning of life is perfection, and the creation of
a better future beyond the grave, or in future lives for ourselves.
Others say that the meaning of life is in the approach to non-exis-
tence: still others, that the meaning of life is in the perfection of the
race, in the organization of life on earth; while there are those who
deny the possibility of even attempting to know its meaning.
The fault of all these explanations consists in the fact that they
all attempt to discover the meaning of life outside of itself, either
in the future of humanity, or in some problematical existence be-
yond the grave, or again in the evolution of the Ego throughout
many successive incarnations-always in something outside of the
present life of man. But if instead of thus speculating about it,
men would simply look within themselves, then they would see
that in reality the meaning of life is not after all so obscure. IT
CONSISTS IN KNOWLEDGE. All life, through all its facts, events and
incidents, excitements and attractions, inevitably leads us TO THE
213

214

TERTIUM ORGANUM

KNOWLEDGE OF SOMETHING. All life-experience is KNOWLEDGE.
The most powerful emotion in man is his yearning toward the un-
known. EVEN IN LOVE, the most powerful of all attractions, to
which everything is sacrificed, is this yearning toward the unknown,
toward the NEW-curiosity.
The Persian poet-philosopher, AI-Ghazzali, says: "The highest
function of man's soul is the perception of truth." *
In the very beginning of this book PSYCHIC LIFE and THE WORLD
were recognized as existing. The world is everything that exists.
The function of psychic life may be defined as the realization of
existence.
Man realizes his existence and the existence of the world, a
part of which he is. His relation to himself and to the world is
called knowledge. The expansion and deepening of his relation
to himself and to the world is the expansion of knowledge.
All the soul-properties of man, all the elements of his psyche
-sensations, perceptions, conceptions, ideas, judgments, reason-
ings, feelings, emotions, even creation-all these are the INSTRU-
MENTS OF KNOWLEDGE which the I possesses.
Feelings-from the simple emotions up to the most complex, such
as esthetic, religious and moral emotion-and creation, from the
creation of a savage making a stone hatchet for himself up to the
creation of a Beethoven, indeed are means of knowledge.
Only to our narrow HUMAN view do they appear to serve other
purposes-the preservation of life, the construction of something,
or merely pleasure. In reality all this conduces to knowledge..
Evolutionists, followers of Darwin, say that the struggle for ex-
istence and the selection of the fittest created the mind and feeling
of contemporary man-that mind and feeling SERVE LIFE, preserve
the life of separate individuals and of the species-and that beyond
this they have no meaning in themselves. But it is possible to
answer this with the same arguments before advanced against the
mechanicality of the universe; namely, that if rationality exists, then
nothing exists except rationality. The struggle for existence and
the survival of the .fittest, if they truly play such a role in the
!Creation of life, are also not merely accidents, but products of a
mind, CONCERNING WHICH WE DO NOT KNOW; and they also conduce,
like everything else, TO A KNOWLEDGE.
· AI-GhazzaJi, "The Alchemy of Happiness."

LIFE AND THE PSYCHE

215

But we do not realize, do not discern the presence of rationality
in the phenomena and laws of nature. This happens because we
study always not the whole but the part, and we do not divine that
whole which we wish to study-by studying the little finger of a
man we cannot discover his reason. It is the same way in our
relation to nature: we study always the little finger of nature.
When we come to realize this and shall understand that EVERY LIFE
IS THE MANIFESTATION OF A PART OF SOME WHOLE, then only the
possibility of knowledge of that whole opens to us.
In order to comprehend the rationality of a given whole, it is
necessary to understand the character of the whole and its func-
tions. Thus the function of man is knowledge; but without under-
standing "man" as a whole, it is impossible to understand his
function.
To understand our psyche, the function of which is knowledge,
it is necessary to clear up our relation to life.
In Chapter X an attempt was made-a very artificial one,
founded upon the analogy with a world of two-dimensional beings
-to define life as motion in a sphere higher in dimensionality in
comparsion with ours. From this standpoint every separate life
is as it were the manifestation in our sphere of a part of one of the
rational entities of another sphere. These rationalities look in
upon us, as it were, in these lives which we see. When a man dies,
one eye of the Universe closes, says Fechner. Every separate
human life is a moment of the life of some great being, which
lives in us. The life of every separate tree is a moment of the life
of a being, "species" or "family." The rationalities of these
higher beings do not exist independently of these lower lives.
They are two sides of one and the same thing. Every single
human psyche, in some other section of the world, may produce
the illusion of many lives.
This is difficult to illustrate by an example. But if we take
Hinton's spiral, passing through a plane, and the point mnning in
circles on the plane (see p. 70), and conceive of the spiral as the
psyche, then the moving point of intersection of the. spiral with the
plane will be life. This example illustrates a possible relation
between the psyche and life.
To us, life and the psyche are different and separate from each
other, because we are inept at seeing, inept at looking at things.

21,6 TER TIUM ORGANUM
And this in turn depends upon the fact that it is very difficult for
us to step outside the frames of our divisions. We see the life of
a tree, of this tree; and if we are told that the life of a tree is a
manifestation of some psychic life, then we understand it in such a
way that the life of this tree is the manifestation of the psychic life
of this tree. But this is of course an absurdity resulting from
"three.dimensional thinking" -the "Euclidian" mind. The life of
this tree is a manifestation of the psychic life of the species, or
family, or perhaps of the psychic life of the entire vegetable
kingdom.
In exactly the same way, our separate lives are manifestations of
some great rational entity. We find the proof of this in the fact
that our lives have no other meaning at all aside from that process
of acquiring knowledge performed by us. A thoughtful man ceases
to feel painfully the absence of meaning in life only when he real.
izes this, and begins to strive consciously for that for which he
strove unconsciously before.
This process of acquiring knowledge, representing our function
in the world, is performed not by the intellect only, but by our
entire organism, by all the body, by all the life, and by all the life
of human society, its organizations, its institutions, by all culture
and all civilization; by that which we know of humanity and, still
more, by that which we do not know. And we acquire the knowl-
edge of that which we deserve to know.

If we declare in regard to the intellectual side of man that its
purpose is knowledge this will evoke no doubts. All agree that
the human intellect together with everything subjected to its func-
tions is for the purpose of knowledge-although often the faculty
of knowledge is considered as serving only utilitarian ends. But
concerning the emotions: joy, sorrow, rage, fear, love, hatred,
pride, compassion, jealousy; concerning the sense of beauty, esthetic
pleasure and artistic creation; concerning the moral sense; con.
cerning all religious emotions: faith, hope, veneration, etc.; etc.,-
concerning all human activity-things are not so clear. We usually
do not see that all emotions, and all human activity serve knowl-
edge. How do fear, or love, or work serve knowledge? It seems

EMOTION THE MOTIVE FORCE 217
to us that by emotions we feel; by work-create. Feeling and
creation seem to us as something different from knowledge. Con-
cerning work, creative power, creation, we are rather inclined to
think that they demand knowledge, and if they serve it, do so only
indirectly. In the same way it is incomprehensible how religious
emotions serve knowledge.
Usually the emotional is opposed to the intellectual-"heart" to
"mind." Some place "cold reason" or intellecct over against
feelings, emotions, esthetic pleasure; and from these they separate
the moral sense, the religious sense, and "spirituality."
The misunderstanding here lies in the interpretation of the words
intellect and emotion.
Between intellect and emotion there is no sharp distinction.
Intellect, considered as a whole, is also emotion. But in every-day
language, and in " conversational psychology" reason is contrasted
with feeling; will is considered as a separate and independent
faculty; moralists consider moral feeling as entirely distinct from
all these; religionists consider spirituality separately from faith.
One often hears such expressions as: reason mastered feeling;
will mastered desire; the sense of duty mastered passion; spirit-
uality mastered intellectuality; faith conquered reason. But all
these are merely the incorrect expressions of conversational psychol-
ogy; just as incorrect as are the expressions "sunrise" and "sunset."
In reality in the soul of man nothing exists save emotions. And
the soul life of man is either a struggle or a harmonious adjust-
ment between different emotions. Spinoza saw this quite clearly
when he said that emotion can be mastered only by another more
powerful emotion, and by nothing else. Reason, will, feeling, duty,
faith, spirituality, mastering some other emotion, can conquer only
by force of the emotional element contained in them. The
ascetic who kills all desires and passions in himself, kills them by
the desire for salvation. A man renouncing all the pleasures of
the world, renounces them because of the delight of sacrifice, of
renunciation. A soldier dying at his post through his sense of duty
or habit of obedience, does so because the emotion of devotion,
or faithfulness, is more powerful in him than all other things.
A man whose moral sense prompts him to overcome passion in
himself, does so because the moral sense (i. e., emotion) is more
powerful than all his other feelings, other emotions. In substance

218 TERTIUM ORGANUM
all this is perfectly clear and simple, but it has become confused
and cOQfusing simply because men, calling different degrees of
one and the same thing by diverse names, began to see fundamental
differences where there were only differences in degree.
Will is the resultant of desires. We call that man strong-willed
in whom the wiU proceeds on definite lines, without turning aside;
and we call that man weak-willed in whom the line of the will
takes a zig-zag course, turning aside here or there under the influ-
ence of every new desire. But this does not mean that will and
desire are something opposite; quite the reverse, they are one and
the same, because the will is composed of desires.
Reason cannot conquer feeling, because feeling can be con-
quered only by feeling. Reason can only give thoughts and
pictures, evoking feelings which will conquer the feeling of a given
moment. Spirituality is not opposed to "intellectuality" or "emo-
tionality." It is only THEIR HIGHER FLIGHT. Reason has no
limits: only the human, "Euclidian" mind, the mind devoid of
emotions, is limited.
But what is "reason?"
It is the inner aspect of any given being. In the earth's animal
kingdom, in all animals lower than man, we see passive reason.
But with the appearance of concepts it becomes active, and part
of it begins to work as intellect. The animal is conscious through
his sensation and emotions. The intellect is present in the animal
only in an embryonic state, as an emotion of curiosily, a pleasure
of knowing.
In man the growth of consciousness consists in the growth of
the intellect and the accompanying growth of the higher emotions
-esthetic, religious, moral-which according to the measures of
their growth become more and more intellectualized, while sim-
ultaneously with this the intellect is assimilating emotionality,
ceasing to be "cold."
Thus "spirituality" is a fusion of the intellect with the higher
emotions. The intellect is spiritualized from the emotions; the
emotions are spiritualized from the intellect.
The functions of the rational faculty are not limited, but not often
does the human intellect rise to its highest form. At the same time
it is incorrect to say that the highest form of human knowledge will
not be Jntellectual, but of a different character; only this higher

EMOTIONS SER VE KNOWLEDGE 219
reason is entirely unrestricted by logical concepts and by Euclidian
modes of thought. We are likely to hear a great deal concerning
this from the standpoint of mathematics, which as a matter of fact
transcended the reasoning of logic long ago. But it achieved this
by the aid of the intellect. A new order of receptivity grows in
the soil of the intellect and of the higher emotions, but it is not
created by them. A tree grows in the earth, but it is not created
by the earth. A seed is necessary. This seed may be in the soul,
or absent from it. When it is there it can be cultivated or it can
be choked; when it is not there it is impossible to replace it with
anything else. The soul (if a soul it may be called) lacking that
seed, i. e., inept to feel and reflect the world of the wondrous, will
never put forth the living sprout, but will always reflect the phenom-
enal world, and that alone.
At the present stage of his development man comprehends many
things by means of his intellect, but at the same time he comprehends
many things by means of his emotions. In no case are emotions
merely organs of feeling fOT feeling's sake: they are all organs of
knowledge. In every emotion man knows something that he could
not know without its aid-something that he could know by no
other emotion, by no effort of the intellect. If we consider the emo-
tional nature of man as self-contained, as serving life and not serv-
ing knowledge we shall never understand its true content and signifi-
cance. Emotions serve knowledge. There are things and relations
which can be known only emotionally, and only through a given
emotion.
To understand the psychology of play, it is necessary to experi-
ence the emotions of the player; to understand the psychology of
the hunt, it is necessary to experience the emotions of the hunter;
the psychology of a man in love is incomprehensible to him who is
indifferent; the state of mind of Archimedes when he jumped out
of the bath tub is incomprehensible to the staid citizen, who would
look on such a performance as a sign of insantiy; the feelings of
the globe-trotter, delightedly breathing in the sea air and sweeping
with his eyes the wide horizon, is incomprehensible to the sedentary
stay-at-home. The feeling of a believer is incomprehensible to an
unbeliever, and to a believer the feeling of an unbeliever is quite as
strange. Men understand one another so imperfectly because they
live always by different emotions. And when they feel similar

220

TERTIUM ORGANUM

emotIons simultaneously, then and then only do they understand
one another. The proverbial philosophy ef the people knows this
very well: "A FULL MAN DOES NOT UNDERSTAND A HUNGRY ONE,"
it says. "A drunkard is no comrade for a sober man." "One
rogue recognizes another."
In this mutual understanding or in the illusion of mutual under-
standing-in this immersion in similar emotions-lies one of the
principal charms of love. The French novelist, de Maupassant,
has written very delightfully a'bout this in his little story Solitude.
The same illusion explains the secret power of alcohol over the
human soul, for alcohol creates the illusion of a communion of
souls, and induces similar fantasies simultaneously, in two or sev-
eral men.
Emotions are the stained-glass windows of the soul; colored
glasses through which the soul looks at the world. Each such
glass assists in finding in the contemplated object the same or
similar colors, but it also prevents the finding of opposite ones.
Therefore it has been correctly said that a one-sided emotional
illumination cannot give a correct perception of an object. Nothing
gives one such a clear idea of things as the emotions, yet nothing de-
ludes one so much.
Every emotion has a meaning for its existence, although its
value from the standpoint of knowledge varies. Certain emotions
are important and necessary for the life of knowledge and certain
emotions hinder rather than help one to understand.
Theoretically all emotions are an aid to knowledge; all emo-
tions arose because of the knowing of one or another thing. Let us
consider one of the mQst ele
entary emotions-say THE EMOTION
OF FEAR. Undoubtedly there are relations which can be known
only through fear. The man who never experienced the sensation
of fear will never understand many things in life and in nature; he
will never understand many of the controlling motives in the life
of man. (What else but the fear of hunger and cold forces the
majority of men to work?) He will never understand many things
in the animal world. For example, he will not understand the re-
lation of mammals to reptiles. A snake excites a feeling of re-
pulsion and fear in all mammals. By this repulsion and fear the
mammal knows the natme of the snake and the relation of that
nature to its own, and knows it correctly, but strictly personally,

PERSONAL EMOTIONS

221

and only from its own standpoint. But what the snake is in itself
the animal never knows by the emotion of fear. What the
make
is in itself-not in the philosophical meaning of the thing-in-itself
(nor from the standpoint of the man or animal whom it has bitten
or may bite) but simply from the standpoint of zoology-THIS
CAN BE KNOWN BY THE INTELLECT ONLY.
Emotions unite with the different I's of our psyche. Emotions
apparently the same may be united with the very small I's and
with the very great and lofty I's; and so the role and meaning of
such emotions in life may be very different. The continual shift-
ing of emotions, each 9f which calls itself I and strives to establish
power over man, is the chief obstacle to the establishment of a con.
stant I. And particularly does this interfere when the emotions
are manifesting in and passing through the regions of the psyche
connected with a certain kind of self-consciousness and self-asser-
tion. These are the so-called personal emotions.
The sign of the growth of the emotions is the liberation of them
from the personal element, and their sublimation on the higher
planes. The liberation from personal elements augments the cog-
nizing power of the emotions, because the more there are of pseudo-
personal elements in emotion the greater the possibility of delu-
sion. Personal emotion is always partial, always unjust, by reason
of the one fact that it opposes itself to all the rest.
Thus the cognitive power of the emotions is greater in propor-
tion as there is less of self-elements in a given emotion, i. e., more
consciousness that this emotion is not the I.
We have seen before in studying space and its laws, thai: the
evolution of knowledge consists in a gradual withdrawing from
oneself. Hinton expresses this very well. He says that only by
withdrawing from ourselves do we begin to comprehend the world
as it is. The entire system of mental exercises with colored cubes
invented by HintGn aims at the training of consciousness to look
at things from other than the pseudo-personal standpoint.

When we study a block of cu})es, writes Hinton, (say a cube consisting
of 27 lesser cubes) we first of all learn it by starting from a particular
cube and axis, and learning how 26 others come with regard to that
cube. . . . We learn the block with regard to this axis, so that we can
mentally conceive the disposition of every cube as it comes regarded
from one point of view. Next we suppose ourselves to be in another

222

TERTIUM ORGANUM

cube at the extremity of another axis; and looking from this axis, we
learn the aspect of all the cubes, and so on.
Thus we impress on the feelings what the block of cubes is like from
every axis. In this way we get a knowledge of the block of cubes.
Now, to get the knowledge of humanity, we must study it from the
standpoint of the individuals composing it.
The egotist may be compared with the man who knows a cube from one
standpoint only.
Those who feel superficially with a great many people, are like those
learners who have a slight acquaintance with a block of cubes from many
points of view.
Those who have a few deep attachments are like those who know
them well from only one or two points of view.
And after all, perhaps the difference between the good and the rest of
us, lies rather in the former being UlW'are. There is som
thing outside
them which draws them to it, which they see, while we do not. *

Just as it is incorrect in relation to oneself to evaluate every-
thing from the standpoint of one emotion, contrasting it with all
the rest, so is it correspondingly incorrect in relation to the world
and men to evaluate everything from the standpoint of one's own
accidental I, contrasting oneself of a given moment with the rest.
Thus the problem of correct emotional knowledge consists in
the fact that one shall feel in relation to the world and men from
some standpoint other than the personal. And the broader the
circle becomes for which a person feels, the deeper becomes the
knowledge which his emotions yield. But not all emotions are of
equal potency in liberating from self-elements. Certain emotions
from their very nature are disruptive, separative, alienating, forcing
man to feel himself as individualized and separate; such are hatred,
fear, jealousy, pride, envy. These are emotions of a materialistic
order, forcing a belief in matter. And there are emotions which are
unitive, hannonizing, making man feel himself to be a part of
some great whole; such are love, sympathy, friendship, compas-
sion, love of country, love of nature, love of humanity. These emo-
tions lead man out of the material world and show him the truth
of the world of the wondrous. Emotions of this character liberate
him more easily from self-elements than those of the former class.
Nevertheless there can be a quite impersonal pride-the pride in an
heroic deed accomplished by CNWther man. There can even be
· C. H. Hinton, "A New Era of Thought," pp. 77, 78.

PURE AND IMPURE EMOTIONS 223
impersonal envy, when we envy a man who has conquered himself,
conquered his personal desire to live, sac:.:ificed himself for that
which everyone considers to be right and just, hut which we cannot
bring ourselves to do, cannot even think of doing, because of weak-
ness, of love of life. There can he impersonal hatred-of injustice,
of brute force, anger against stupidity, dullness; aversion to nasti-
ness, to hypocrisy. These feelings undoubtedly elevate and purify
the soul of man and help him to see things which he would not
otherwise see.
Christ driving the money-changers out of the temple, or express.
ing his opinion about the Pharisees, was not entirely meek and
mild; and there are cases wherein meekness and mildness are not
virtues at all. Emotions of love, sympathy, pity transform them-
selves very readily into sentimentality, into weakness; and thus
transformed they contribute of course to nescience, i. e., matter.
The difficulty of dividing emotions into categories is increased by
the fact that all emotions of the higher order, without exception,
can also be personal and then their action partakes of the nature of
this class.

There is a division of emotions into pure and impure. We all
know this, we all use these words, but understand little of what
they mean. Truly, what does "pure" or "impure" mean with
reference to feeling?
Common morality divides, a priori, all emotions into pure and
impure according to certain outward signs, just as Noah divided
the animals in his ark. All "fleshly desires" fall into the category
of the "impure." In reality indeed, "fleshly desires" are just as
pure as is everything in nature. Nevertheless emotions are pure
and impure. We know very well that there is truth in this classifi-
cation. But where is it, and what does it mean?
Only an analysis of emotions from the standpoint of knowledge
can give the key to this.
Impure emotion-this is quite the same thing as impure glass,
impure water, or impure sound, i. e., emotion which is not pure,
but containing sediments, deposits, or echoes of other emotions:
IMPURE-MIXED. Impure emotion gives obs
re, not pure knowl-

224

TERTIUM ORGANUM

edge, just as impure glass gives a confused image. Pure emotion
gives a clear pure image of that for the knowledge of which it is
intended.
This is the only possible decision of the question. The arrival
at this conclusion saves us from the common mistake of moralists
who divide arbitrarily all emotion into "moral" and "immoral."
But if we try for a moment to separate emotions from their usual
moral frames, then we see that matters are considerably simpler,
that there are no in their nature pure emotions, nor impure in their
nature, but that each emotion will be pure or impure according to
whether or not there are admixtures of other emotions in it.
There can be a pure sensuality, the sensuality of the Song of
Songs, which initiates into the sensation of cosmic life and gives
the power to hear the beating pulse of nature. And there can be
an impure sensuality, mixed with other emotions good or bad from
a moral standpoint hut equally making muddy the fundamental
feeling.
There can be pure sympathy, and there can be sympathy mixed
with calculation to receive something for one's sympathy. There
can be pure love of knowledge, a thirst for knowledge for its owD
sake, and there can be an inclination to knowledge wherein con-
siderations of mility or profit assume the chief importance.
In their outer manifestation pure and impure emotions may
differ very little. Two men may be playing chess, acting out-
wardly very similarly, but in one will burn self-love, desire of
victory, and he will be full of different unpleasant feelings toward
his rival-fear, envy of a clever move, spite, jealousy, animosity,
or schemes to wit
, while the other will simply solve a complex
mathematical problem which lies before him, not thinking about
his rival at all.
The emotion of the first man will be impure, if only because it
contains much of the mixed. The emotion of the second will be
pure. The meaning of this is of course perfectly clear.
Examples of a similar division of outwardly similar emotions
may be constantly seen in the esthetic, literary, scientific, public
and even the spiritual and religious activities of men. In all
regions of this activity only complete victory over the pseudo.
personal elements leads a man to the correct understanding of the
world and of himself. All emotions colored by such SELF-

PURIFICATION OF THE EMOTIONS 225
ELEMENTS are like concave, convex, or otherwise curved glasses
which refract rays incorrectly and distort the image of the world.
Therefore the problem of emotional knowledge consists in a
corresponding preparation of the emotions which serve as organs of
knowledge.

Become as little children . . . and
Blessed, are the pure in heart. . . .

In these evangelical words is expressed first of all the idea of the
purification of the emotions. It is impossible to know through
impure emotions. Therefore in the interests of a correct under-
standing of the world and of the self, man should undertake the
purification and the elevation of his emotions.
This last leads to an entirely new view of morality. That
morality the aim of which is to establish a system of correct rela-
tions toward the emotions, and to assist in their purification and
elevation, ceases in our eyes to be some wearisome and self-limit-
ing exercise in virtue. Morality-this is a form of esthetics.
That which is not moral is first of all not beautiful, because not
concordant, not hannonious.
We see all the enormous meaning that morality may have in
our life; we see the meaning morality has for knowledge, for the
reason that there are emotions by which we know, and there are
emotions by which we delude ourselves. If morality can actually
help us to analyze these, then its value is indisputable from the
standpoint of knowledge.
Current popular psychology knows very well that malice, hatred,
anger, jealousy BLIND a man, DARKEN hjs reason; it knows that
fear DRIVES ONE INSANE, etc., etc.
But we also know that every emotion may serve either knowl-
edge or nescience.
Let us consider such an emotion-valuable and capable of high
development-as the pleasure of activity. This emotion is a power-
ful motive force in culture, and of service in the perfection of life
and in the evolutio,," of aU higher faculties of man. But it is also
the cause of an infinite number of his delusions and faux pas for
which he afterwards pays bitterly. In the passion of activity man
is easily inclined to forget the aim that started him to act; to accept

226

TERTIUM ORGANUM

the activity itself for the aim and even to sacrifice the aim in
order to preserve the activity. This is seen with especial clear-
ness in the activity of various spiritual movements. Man, starting
out in one direction, turns in the opposite one without himself
noticing it, and often descends into the abyss thinking that he is
scaling the heights.
There is nothing more contradictory, more paTadoxical than the
man who is enticed away by activity. We have become so accus-
tomed to "man" that the strange perversions to which he is some.
times subject fail to startle us as curiosities.
Violence in the name of freedom; violence in the name of love;
the Gospel of Christianity with sword in hand; the stakes of the
Inquisition for the glory of a God of Mercy; the oppression of
thought and speech on the part of the ministers of religiO'n-aIl
these are incarnated absurdities of which humanity only is capabh.
A correct understanding of morality can preserve us in some
degree from such perversions of thought. In our life in general
there is not much morality. European culture has gone along
the path of intellectual development. The intellect invented and
organized without considering the moral meaning of its own ac-
tivity. Out of this arose the paradox that the crown of European
culture is the "dreadnaught."
'Many people realize all this, and on account of it assume a
negative attitude to all culture. But this is unjust. European
culture created much other than dreadnaughts that is new and val-
uable, facilitating life. The elaboration of the principles of free-
dom and right; the abolition of slavery (though these are indeed
nominal); the victory of man in many regions where nature pre-
sented to him a hostile front; the methods for the distribution of
thought, the press; the miracles of contemporary medicine and
surgery-all these are indisputably real conquests, and it is im-
possible not to take them into consideration. But there is nO' mor-
ality in them, i. e., there is no truth but too much of falsehood. We
are satisfied with mere principles as such; we are content to
think that eventually they will be introduced into life, and we
neither marvel nor are disturbed at the thought that we ourselves
(i. e., cultured humanity), developing beautiful principles, con-
tinually deny and controvert them in our lives. The man of
European culture invents with equal readiness a machine gun and

M 0 R A LIT Y AS COO R DIN A T ION 227
a new surgical apparatus. European culture began from the life
of the savage, taking this life as an example as it were and starting
to develop all its sides to the uttermost without thinking of their
moral aspects. The savage crushed the head of his enemy with a
simple club. We invented for this purpose complicated devices,
making possible the crushing of hundreds and thousands of heads at
once. Therefore such a thing as this happened: aerial naviagtion,
toward which men had looked forward for millenniums, finally
achieved, is used first of all for purposes of war.
Morality should be the co-ordination and the necessity for the
co-ordination of all sides of life, i. e., of the actions of man and
humanity with the higher emotions and the higher comprehen-
sions of the intellect. From this point of view the statement pre-
viously made, that morality is a form of esthetics, becomes clear.
Esthetics-the sense of beauty-is the sensalion of the relation
of parts to a whole, and the perception of the necessity for a certain
harmonious relation. And morality is the same. Those actions,
thoughts and feelings are not moral which are not coordinated,
which are not harmonious with the higher understanding and the
higher sensations accessible to man. The introduction of morality
into our life would make it less paradoxical, less contradictory, more
logical and-most important-more civilized; because now our
vaunted civilization is much compromised by "dreadnaughts," i. e.,
war and everything that goes with it, as well as many things of
"peaceful" life such as the death penalty, prisons, etc.
Morality, or moral esthetics in such a sense as is here shown, is
necessary to us. Without it we too easily forget that the word has
after all a certain relation to the act. We are interested in many
things, we enter into many things, but for some strange reason we
fail to note the incongruity between our spiritual life and our life
on earth. Thus we create two lives. In one we are preternat-
urally strict with ourselves, analyze with great care every idea
before we discuss it; in the other we permit with extreme ease any
compromises, and easily keep from seeing that which we do not
care to see. Moreover, we reconcile ourselves to this division.
We do not find it necessary seriously to introduce into our lives
our higher ideals, and almost accept as a principle the division
of the "real" from the "spiritual." All of the indecencies or
our life have ari
n as a result of this; all of those infinite falsifi.-

228

TERTIUM ORGANUM

cations of our life-falsifications of the press, art, drama, science,
politics-falsifications in which we suffocate as in a fetid swamp,
but which we ourselves create, because we and none other are
servants and ministers of those falsifications. We have no sense of
the necessity to introduce our ideals into life, to introduce them
inlo our daily activity, and we even admit the possibility that this
activity may go counter to our spiritual quests, in accordance with
one of those established standards the harm of which we recognize,
but for which no one holds himself responsible because he did not
create them himself. We have no sense of personal responsibility,
no boldness, and we are even without the consciousness of their
necessity. All this would be very sad and hopeless if the concept
"we" were not so dubious. In reality, the correctness of the very
expression "we" is subject to grave doubt. The enormous ma-
jority of the population of this globe is engaged in effect in de-
stroying, disfiguring, and falsifying the ideas of the minority. The
majority is without ideas. It is incapable of understanding the
ideas of the minority, and left to itself it must inevitably disfigure
and destroy. Imagine a menagerie full of monkeys. In this
menagerie a man is working. The monkeys observe his move-
ments and try to imitate him but they can imitate only his visible
movements; the meaning and aim of these movements are closed
to them; therefore their actions will have quite another result.
And should the monkeys escape from their cages and get hold of
the man's tools, then perhaps they will destroy all his work, and
inflict great damage on themselves as well. But they will never
be able to create anything. Therefore a man would make a great
mistake if he referred to their "work," and spoke of them as
"we." Creation and destruction-or more correctly, the ability to
create or the ability only to destroy-are the principal signs of the
two types of men.
Morality is necessary to "man": only by regarding everything
from the standpoint of morality is it possible to differentiate un-
mistakably the work of man from the activity of apes. But at
th
same time delusions are nowhere more easily created than in
the region of morality. Allured by his own particular morality
and moral gospel, a man forgets the aim of moral perfection, forgets
that this aim consists in knowledge. He begins to see an aim in
morality itself. Then occurs the a priori division of the emotions

THE TYRANNY OF MORALITY 229
into good and bad, "moral" and "immoral." The correct under-
standing of the aim and meaning of the emotions is lost along
with this. Man is channed with his "niceness." He desires that
everyone else should be just as nice as he, or as that remote ideal
created by himself. Then appears delight in morality for moral-
ity's sake, a sort of moral sport-the exercise of morality for mor-
ality's sake. A man under these circumstances begins to be afraid
of everything. Everywhere, in all manifestations of life, some-
thing "immoral" begins to appear to him, threatening to dethrone
him or others from that height to which they have risen or may
rise. This develops a preternaturally suspicious attitude toward
the morality of others. In an ardor of proselytism, desiring to
popularize .his moral views, he begins quite definitely to regard
everything which is not in accord with his morality as hostile to it.
All this becomes " black" in his eyes. Starting with the idea of
utter freedom, by arguments, by compromises, he very easily con-
vinces himself that it is necessary to fight freedom. He already
begins to admit a censure of thought. The free expression of opin-
ions contrary to his own seems to him inadmissible. All this may
be done with the best intentions, but the results of it are very well
known.
There is no tyranny more ferocious than the tyranny of moral-
ity. Everything is sacrificed to it. And of course there is nothing
so blind as such tyranny, as such "morality."
Nevertheless humanity needs morality, but of a different kind-
such as is founded on the real data of superior knowledge. Hu-
manity is passionately seeking for this, and perhaps will find it.
Then on the basis of this new morality will occur a great division,
and those few who will be able to follow it will begin to rule others,
or they will disappear altogether. In any case, because of this new
morality and those forces which it will engender, the contradic-
tions of life will disappear, and those biped animals which consti-
tute the majority of humanity will have no opportunity to pose
as men any longer.

The organized forms of intellectual knowledge are: science,
founded upon observation, calculation and experience; and philo so-

230 TERTIUM ORGANUM
phy, founded upon the speculative method of reasoning and
drawing conclusions.
The organized forms of emotional knowledge are: religion and
art. Religious teachings, taking on the character of different
"cults" as they depart from the original "revelation," are founded
entirely upon the emotional nature of man. Magnificent temples,
the gorgeous vestments of priests and acolytes, the solemn ritual of
worship, processions, sacrifices, singing, music, dances--all these
have as their aim the attuning of man in a certain way, the evoking
in him of certain definite feelings. The same purpose is served by
religious myths, legends, stories of the lives of heroes and saints s
prophecies, apocalypses-they all act upon the imagination, upon
the feelings, although they fail to fulfil their original purpose,
which is to transmit ideas, i. e., to serve knowledge.
The aim of it is to give God to man, to give him morality, i. e., to
give him an accessible knowledge of the mysterious side of the world.
Religion may deviate from its true aim, may serve earthly inter-
ests and purposes, but its foundation is the search for truth, for
God.
Art serves beauty, i. e., emotional knowledge of its own kind.
Art discovers beauty in everything, and compels man to feel it and
therefore to know. Art is a powerful instrument of knowledge of
the noumenal world: mysterious depths, each one more amazing
l1han the last, open to the vision of man when he holds in his hands
this magical key. But let him only think that this mystery is not
for knowledge but for pleasure in it, and all the charm disappears
at once. Just as soon as art begins to take delight in that beauty
which is already found, instead of the search for new beauty an
arrestment occurs and art becomes a superfluous estheticism, en-
compassing man's vision like a wall. The aim of art is the search
for beauty, just as the aim of religion is the search for God and
truth. And exactly as art stops, so religion stops also as soon as
it ceases to search for God and truth, thinking it has found them.
This idea is expressed in the precept: Seek. . . the kingdom of
God and his righteousness. . . . It does not say, find; but merely,
seek!

FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 231
Science, philosophy, religion and art are forms of knowledge.
The method of science is experiment; the method of philosophy is
speculation; the method of religion and art is moral or esthetic emo-
tional inspiration. But both science and philosophy, religion and
art, begin to serve true knowledge only when in them commence to
manifest the sensing and finding of some inner property in things.
In general it is quite possible to say-and perhaps it will be most
true to fact-that the aim of even purely intellectual systems of
philosophy and science consists not at all in the 'giving to man
of certain data of knowledge, but in the raising of man to such a
height of thinking and feeling as to enable him to pass to those new
and higher forms of knowledge to which art and religion approach
more nearly. It is necessary however to remember that these very
divisions into science, philosophy, religion and art betray the pov-
erty and incompleteness of each. A complete religion unites in
itself religion, art, philosophy and science; a complete art equally
unites them, while a complete science or a complete philosophy
comprehends religion and art. A religion which contradicts
science, and a science which contradicts religion are both equally
false.

...

CHAPTER XIX

The intellectual method, objective knowledge. The limits of objective
knowledge. The possibiIty of the expansion of the application of the
psychological method. New forms of knowledge. The ideas of
Plotinus. Different forms of consciousness. Sleep (the potential
state of consciousness). Dreams (consciousness enclosed in itself,
reflected from itself) . Waking consdousness (dualistic sensation
of the world, the division of the I and the Not-I). Ecstasy (the lib-
eration of the self). Turiya (the absolute consciousness of all, as
of the self). '''The dewdrop slips into the shining sea." Nirvana.

H AVING established the principle of the possible unifi-
cation of the forms of our knowledge, let us discover if
this unification is not somewhere realized; how it may be
realized; and whether it will be realized in a form entirely new, !>r
in one of the existing forms which shall include all others in it-
self.
For this we shall return to the fundamental principles of our
knowledge, and compare the possible chances for the development
of different paths, i. e., we shall try to find out as best we may
that path which leads to the new knowledge, and in the shortest
time.
Up to a certain point we have already established this regard-
ing the emotional polh; the growth of the emotions, their purifica-
tion and their liberation from the materialistic elements of posses-
sion and fear of loss must lead to super-personal knowledge and
to intuition.
But how can the intellectual path lead to the new forms of knowl-
edge?
First of all, what is the new knowledge?
The new knowledge is direct knowledge, by an inner sense. I
feel my own pain directly; the new knowledge can give me the
power to sense, as mine, the pain of another man. Thus the new
knowledge is the expansion of a direct experience. The question
is, can the expansion of objective knowledge be founded upon this
232

THE GROWTH OF NESCIENCE 233
new experience? Let us analyze the nature of objective knowledge.
Our objective knowledge is contained in science and philosophy.
Inner experience science has always regarded as a thing given,
which cannot be changed, but as something "doubtful," standing
in need of verification and affirmation by the objective method.
Science has studied the world as an objective phenomenon, and it
has striven to study the psyche and its properties as such another
objective phenomenon.
In another quarter, the study of the psyche from the inside, so to
speak, wae proceeding simultaneously with this, but to this study
no great significance was ever attached. The limits of inner knowl-
edge, i. e., the limits of the psyche, were considered to be strictly
definite, established, and unchangeable. Only for objective knowl-
edge, founded upon identical inner experience, was the possibility
of expansion admitted.
Let us discover if there is not some mistake here: is the expansion
of objective knowledge, founded upon a limited experience, really
possible, and are the possibilities of experience really limited?

Developing science, i. e., objective knowledge, is encountering ob.
stacles everywhere. Science studies phenomena; just as soon as
it attempts to discover causes, it is confronted with the wall of the
unknown, and to it unknowable. The question narrows itself down
to this: is this unknowable absolutely unknowable, or is it so only
for the methods of our science?
At the present time the situation is just this: the number of
unknown facts in every region of scientific knowledge is rapidly
increasing; and the unknown threatens to swallow the known-or
the accepted as known. One might define the progress of science,
especially latterly, as a very rapid growth of the regions of nescience.
Nescience of course existed before, and not in less degree than
at present. But before, it was not so clearly recognized-at that
time science did not know what it does not know. Now it knows
this more and more, and more and more knows its conditionality.
A little more, and in every separate branch of science that which
it does. not know will become greater than that which it knows.
In every departme
:- science itself is beginning to repudiate its

234

TERTIUM ORGANUM

own foundations. A little more, and science in its entirety will
ask, "Where am I?"
Positive thinking-which conceived of its problem as the de-
ducing of general conclusions from the findings of each separate
science and all of them combined-will feel itself compelled to
deduce conclusions from that which science does not know. Then
all the world will see before it the colossus with feet of clay, or
rather without any feet at all, but with a formidable misty body,
hanging in the air.
For a long time philosophy has realized the lack of feet of this
colossus, but the majority of cultivated mankind is still hypnotized
by positivism, which sees something in place of those feet. How-
ever, it will be necessary to part company with this illusion very
soon. Mathematics, lying at the very foundation of positive knowl-
edge, and to which exact science always pointed with pride, as to
its subject and vassal, is in reality now denying all positivism.
Mathematics was included in the cycle of positive sciences only by
mistake, and soon indeed mathematics will become the principal
weapon AGAINST POSITIVISM.
By positivism I mean, in this connection, that system which affirms,
in contradiction to Kant, that the study of phenomena can bring us
nearer to things in themselves, i. e., which affirms that by going along
the path of the study of phenomena we can come to an understanding
of causes, and-this is important-which regards physico-mechani-
cal phenomena as the cause of biological and psychic phenomena.
The usual positivistic view denies the existence of the hidden side
of life, i. e., it finds that the hidden side consists of electro-magnetic
phenomena and opens to us only little by little-and that the progress
of science consists in the gradual unveiling of the hidden.
"This is not known as yet," says the positivist, when his attention
is called to something 'hidden,' "but it will be known. Science,
going by the same path that it has -gone up to now, will discover
this also. Five hundred years ago, Europe did not know of the
existence of America; seventy years ago we did not know of the
existence of bacteria; twenty-five years ago we did not know of the
existence of radium. But America, bacteria and radium are all
discovered now. Similarly and by the same methods, and by such
methods only, will be discovered everything that is to be discovered.

L I M ITS 0 F THE S C IE N T I FIe MET HOD 235
The apparatuses are being perfected, the methods, processes and ob-
servations are being refined. That which we did not even suspect
a hundred years ago, has now become a generally known and gen-
erally understood fact. Everything that is possible to be known
will become known after this manner."
Thus do the adherents of the positivistic viewpoints speak, but
at the foundation of these reasonings lies a deep delusion.
The affirmation of positivism would be quite true did positivism
move uniformly in all directions of the unknown; if sealed doors
did not exist for it; if in the multitude of questions the principal
questions did not remain just as obscure as in those times wilen
science did not exist at all. We see that enormous regions are
closed utterly to science, that it never penetrated into them, and
worst of all it made not a single step in the direction of these re-
gions.
There are multitudes of problems the solving of which science
has not even attempted; problems in the presence of which the con-
temporary scientist, armed with all his science, is as helpless as a
savage or a four-year-old child.
Such are the problems of life and death, the problems of space
and time, the mystery of eonsciousness, etc., etc.
We all know this, and the only thing we can do is to try not to
think about the existence of these problems, to forget about them.
We do so as a rule, but this does not annihilate them. They con-
tinue to exist, and at any given moment we may turn to them and
try on them the rigidity and force of our scientific method. AmI
every time, at such an attempt, we find that our scientific method is
not equal to these problems. By its aid we can discover the chem-
ical composition of remote stars; can photograph the skeleton within
the human body, invisible to the human eye; can invent a floating
mine which can be controlled from a distance by means of electrical
waves, and can in this way annihilate in a moment hundreds of lives;
but by the aid of this method we cannot tell what the man standing
beside us is thinking about. No matter how much we may weigh,
sound or photograph a man, we shall never know his thoughts unless
he himself tells them to us. BUT THIS IS TRULY QUITE A DIFFERENT
METHOD.
The sphere of action of the method of exact science is strictly

236 TERTIUM ORGANUM
limited. This sphere is the world of the immediate experience ac-
cessible for man. In the world lying beyond the domain of mmal
experience exact science with its methods has never penetrated and
will never penetrate.
The expansion of objective knowledge is possible only in case
direct experience is expanded. But in spite of all the growth of
objective knowledge science has made not one step in this direction
and the border-line of experience remains in the same place. Could
science take a single step in this direction, were we able to feel or
sense differently, then we might admit that science might move and
take two, three, ten, and ten thousand steps. But it has taken
not even one, and it is therefore reasonable to believe that it will
never take it. The world outside the experience of the five senses
is closed to objective investigation, and for this quite definite causes
exist.
By no means everything that exists can be detected by any of
five senses.
Objective existence is a very narrowly defined form of existence,
and does not by any means exhaust or comprehend existence as a
whole. The mistake of positivism consists in the fact that it has
recognized as really existing only that which exists objectively, and
it has even begun to deny the very existence of all the rest.
But what is objectivity?
We can define it in this way: because of the properties of our
receptivity, or because of the conditions under which our psyche
works, we segregate a small number of facts into a definite group.
This group of facts represents in itself the objective world, and is
accessible to the investigation of science. But in no case does this
group represent in itself EVERYTHING THAT IS EXISTING. Exten-
sion in space and existence in time constitute the first condition of
objective existence. And yet the forms of the extension of a thing
in space, and those of its existence in time are created by the cog-
nizing subject, and do not belong to the thing itself. Matter is
first of all three-dimensional. This three-dimensionality is the
form of our receptivity. Matter of four dimensions would imply
a change in the form of our receptivity.
Materiality is the condition of existence in space and time, i. e.,
a condition of existence under which "at one time, and in one place,
two similar phenomena cannot occur." This is an exhaustive defini-

" MAT T E R" A S 0 R T 0 F "B L I N D N E S S" 237
tion of materiality. It is clear that under the conditions known to
us, two similar phenomena, occurring simultaneously in one place,
will compose one phenomenon. But this is obligatory for those
conditions of existence which we know, i. e., for such matter as we
perceive. For the universe it is absolutely not obligatory. We
constantly observe the conditions of materiality in those cases in
which we must create in our life .a sequence of pSenomena or are
obliged to select, because our matter does not permit us to juxtapose
in a definite interval of time more than a certain number of phenom-
ena. The necessity for selection is perhaps the chief visible sign
of materiality. Outside of matter, the necessity for selection is
done away with, and if we imagine the life of a feeling being, in-
dependent of the conditions of materiality, such a being will he
capable of possessing simultaneously such faculties as from our
standpoint are incompatible, opposite, and eliminative of one an-
other: the power of being in several places at the same time; to
command different views; to perform opposite and mutually ex-
clusive actions simultaneously.
In speaking of matter it is necessary always to remember that
matter is not a substance, but a condition. Suppose for example,
that a man is blind. It is impossible to regard this blindness as a
substance; it is a condition of the existence of a given man. Matter
is 'some sort of blindness.
Objective knowledge can grow infinitely, its progress depending
on the perfection of its instruments and the refinement of its methods
of observation and experiment. One thing only it cannot transcend
-the limits of the three-dimensional 'sphere, i. e., the conditions of
space and time, for the reason that objective knowledge is created
under these conditions, and the conditions of the existence of the
three-dimensional world are the conditions of its existence. Ob-
jective knowledge will always be subject to these conditions, for
otherwise it would cease to exist. No apparatus, no instrument,
will ever conquer these conditions, for should they conquer they
would destroy themselves first of all. Perpetual motion, i.e., the
violation of the fundamental laws of the three-dimensional world
as we know it, would be the only victory over the three-dimensional
world in the three-dimensional world itself.
But it is necessary to remember that objective knowledge does
not study facts, but only the perception of facts.

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

IN ORDER THAT OBJECTIVE KNOWLEDGE SHALL TRANSCEND THE
LIMITS OF THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SPHERE, IT IS NECESSARY THAT
THE CONDITIONS OF PERCEPTION SHALL CHANGE.
As long as this does not happen, our objective knowledge is con-
fined within the limits of an infinite three-dimensional sphere. It
can proceed infinitely upon the radii of that sphere, but it will never
penetrate into that region a section of which constitutes our three-
dimensional world. Moreover we know, from the preceding, that
should our receptivity become more limited, then objective knowl.
edge would be correspondingly limited also. It is impossible to
convey to a dog the idea of the sphericality of the earth; to make it
remember the weight of the sun and the distances between the planets
is equally impossible. Its objective knowledge is vastly more per-
sonal than ours; and the cause of it lies in the dog's more limited
psyche.
Thus we see that objective knowledge depends upon the properties
of the psyche.
Indeed, between the objective knowledge of a savage and that of
Herbert Spencer there is an enormous difference; but that of neither
the one nor the other transcends the limit of the three-dimensional
sphere, i. e., the limits of the "conditional," the unreal. In order to
transcend the three-dimensional sphere it is necessary to expand
or change the forms of receptivity.
Is the expansion of the limits of receptivity possible?
The study of complex forms of consciousness a'ssures us that it
is possible.
Plotinus, the famous Alexandrian philosopher (third century)
affinned that for perfect knowledge the subject and object must
be united--'l:hat the rational agent and the thing being comprehended
must not be separate.
For that which sees is itself the thing, which IS SEEN. [Select Works of
Plotinus. Bohn's Library, p. 271.]
Here it is indeed necessary to understand, "to see" other than
in a literal sense. The "seeing" changes with the changes of the
state of consciousness in which it is proceeding.
But what forms of consciousness exist?

THE FOUR STATES

239

Hindu philosophy makes the division into four states of con-
sciousness: sleep, dream, waking, and the state of absolute cons<:ious-
ness-tUTira..* (The Ancient Wisdom, Annie Besant.)
G. R. S. Mead, in the preface to Taylor's translation of Plotinus
(Bohn: s Library) correlates the terminology of Shankaracharya-
the leader of the Advaita-Vedanta school of ancient India-with
that of Plotinus.

The first or spiritual state was ecstasy; from ecstasy it forgot itself into
deep sleep; from profound sleep it awoke out of unconsciousness, but
still lvithin itself, into the internal world of dreams; from dreaming it
passes finally into the thoroughly waking state, and the outer world of
sense.

Ecstasy is the term used by Plotinus; it is entirely identical with
the term turira of Hindu psychology.
The consciousness, which is in a waking condition, is surrounded
by what constitutes its sense-organs and receptive apparatus in the
phenomenal world; it differentiates the "subjective" from the "ob-
jective," and differentiates its forms of perception from "reality."
It recognizes the phenomenal objective world as reality, and dreams
as unreality, and includes along with it, as being unreal, the entire
subjective world. Its vague sensation of real things, lying beyond
that which is apprehended by the organs of sense, i. e., sensations
of noumena, consciousness identifies as it were with dreams-with
the unreal, imaginary, abstract, subjective-and regards phenom-
ena as the only reality.
Gradually convinced by reason of the unreality of phenomena,
or inwardly sensing this unreality and the reality which lies behind,
we free ourselves from the mirage of phenomena, we begin to under-
stand that all the phenomenal world is in substance subjective also,
that the great realities lie deeper down. Then a complete change
takes place in consciousness in all its concepts about reality. That
· According to the interpretation of the Southern Hindu school of occultism, the four
etates of consciousnees are understood in somewhat different order. The most remote
from the True, the most illusory, is the waking etate; the second-sleep-is already
nearer to the True; the third-deep sleep without dreams-contact with the True; and the
fourth, samadhi, or ecstasy-union with the True.

240 TERTIUM ORGANUM
which before was regarded as real becomes unreal, and that which
was regarded as unreal becomes real. *
This transition into the absolute state of consciousness is "UNION
WITH DIVINITY," "VISION OF GoD," EXPERIENCING THE "KINGDOM
OF HEAVEN," "ENTERING NIRVANA." All these expressions of
mystical religions represent the psychological fact of the expansion
of conscioU'sness, such an expansion that the consciousness absorbs
itelf in the all.
C. W. Leadbeater, in an essay, Some Notes on the Higher Planes.
Nirvana (The Theosophist. July, 1910.) writes:

Sir Edwin Arnold wrote of that beatific condition, that "the dewdrop
slips into the shining sea."
Those who have passed through that most marvelous of experiences
know that, paradoxical as it may seem, the sensation is exactly the reo
verse, and that a far closer description would be that THE OCEAN HAD SOME-
HOW BEEN POURED INTO THE DROP!
The consciousness, wide as the sea, with "its centre everywhere and
its circumference nowhere," is a great and glorious fact; but when a man
attains it, it seems to him that his consciousness has widened to take in
all that, not that he is merged into something else.

This pouring of the ocean into the drop occurs because the con-
sciousness never loses itself, i. e., does not disappear, does not be-
come extinguished. When it seems to us that consciousness is ex-
tinguished, in reality it is only changing its form, it ceases to be
analogical to ours, and we lose the means of convincing ourselves
of its existence.
We have no exact data at all to think that it is dissipated. In
order to escape from the field possible to our observation, it is suffi-
cient for consciousness TO CHANGE ONLY A LITTLE.
In the objective world, indeed, this "slipping of the dewdrop into
the sea" leads to 'the annihilation of the drop, to the absorption of
it by the sea. We have never observed another order of things in
the objective world and therefore cannot imagine it. But in the
real, i. e., the subjective world, of course another order must exist
and operate. The DROP OF CONSCIOUSNESS merging with the SEA
· The conceptions of the subjective and of the objective should undergo a change.
The usual terminology will be incorrect for an exact understanding. Everything phenom.
enal will become subjective; and the truly objective ",ill be that which under ordinary
conditions is rOJgarded as subjective or non-existent.

P LOT I NUS' THE 0 R Y 0 F K NOW LED G E 241
OF CONSCIOUSNESS knows it, but does not itself cease to exist because
of that. Therefore undoubtedly, the sea is absorbed by the drop.

In the Letters to Flaccus of Plotinus, we :find a wonderful descrip-
tio
of a psychology and theory of knowledge founded exactly upon
the idea of the expansion of receptivity.

External objects present us only with appearances. Concerning them,
therefore, we may be said to possess opinion rather than knowledge. The
distinctions in the actual world of appearance are of import only to ordi-
nary and practical men. Our question lies with the ideal reality that
exists behind appearance. How does the mind perceive these ideas? Are
they without us, and is the reason, like sensation, occupied with objects
external to itself? What certainty would we then have--what assurance that
our perception was infallible? The object perceived would be a some-
thing different from the mind perceiving it. We should have then an image
instead of reality. It would be monstrous to believe for a moment that
the mind was unable to perceive ideal truth as it is, and that we had not
certainty and real knowledge concerning the world of intelligence. It fol.
lows, therefore, that this region of truth is not to be investigated as a thing
external to us, and so only imperfectly known. It is within us. Here the
objects we contemplate and that whioh contemplates are identical-both are
thought. The subject cannot surely know an object different from itself.
The world of ideas lies within our intelligence. Truth, therefore, is not
the agreement of our apprehension of an external object with the object
itself. It is the agreement of the mind with itself. Consciousness,
therefore, is the sole basis of certainty. The mind is its own witness.
Reason sees in itself that which is above itself and its source; and again,
that which is below itself as still itself once more.
Knowledge has three degrees--opinion, science, illumination. The
means or instrument of the first is sense; of the second dialectic; of the
third intuition. To the last I subordinate reason. It is absolute knowl-
edge founded on the identity of the mind knowing with the object known.
There is a raying out of all orders of existence, an external emanation
from the ineffable One. There is again a returning impulse, drawing
all upward and inward toward the centre from whence all came. . . .
The w
se man recognizes the idea of the good within him. This he
develops by withdrawal into the holy place of his own soul. He who
does not understand how the soul contains the beautiful within itself,
seeks to realize beauty without by laborious production. His aim should
rather be to concentrate and simplify, and so to expand his being; instead
of going out into the manifold, to forsake it for the One, and to float up-

242

TERTIUM ORGANUM

wards toward the divine fount of being whose stream flows within him.
You ask, how can we know the Infinite?
answer, not by reason. It
is the office of reason to distinguish and define. The infinite, therefore.
cannot be ranked among its objects. You can only apprehend the
infinite by a faculty superior to reason, by entering into a state in which
you are your finite self no longer-in which the divine essence is com-
municated to you. This is ecstasy. It is the liberation of your mind
from its finite consciousness. Like can only apprehend like; when you
thus cease to be finite, you become one with the infinite. In the reduc-
tion of your soul to its simplest self, its divine essence, you realize this
union-this identity.
But this sublime condition is not of permanent duration. It is only
now and then that we can enjoy this elevation above the limits of the
body and the world. I myself have realized it but three times as yet,
and Porphyry hitherto not once.
All that tends to purify and elevate the mind: will assist you in this at-
tainment, and facilitate the approach and the recurrence of these happy
intervals. There are, then, different roads by which this end may be
reached. The love of beauty which exalts the poet; that devotion to
the One and that ascent of science which makes the ambition of the
philosopher, and that love and those prayers by which some devout and
ardent soul tends in its moral purity towards perfection-these are the
great highways conducting to the height above the actual and the par-
ticular, where we stand in the immediate presence of the Infinite,
ho
shines out as from the depths of the soul.

In another place in his works, Plotinus defines the ecstatic knowl-
edge more exactly, presenting such properties of it as to reveal to
us quite clearly that the infinite expansion of subjective knowledge
is there meant.

When we see God [says Plotinus] we see him not by reason, but by
something that is higher than reason. It is impossible however to say
about him who sees that he sees, because he does not behold and discern
two different things (the seer and the thing seen). He changes com-
pletely, ceases to be himself, preserves nothing of his I.
mmersed in
God, he constitutes one whole with Him; like the centre of a circle, which
coincides with the centre of another circle.

CHAPTER XX

The sense of infinity. The Neophyte's first ordeal'. An intolerable sad-
ness. The loss of everything real. What would an animal feel on
becoming a man? The transition to the new logic. Our logic 8S
founded on the observation of the laws of the phenomenal world.
Its invalidity for the study of the world of noumena. The necessity
for another logic. Analogy between the axioms of logic and of
mathematics. TWO MATHEMATICS. The mathematics of real mag-
nitudes (infinite and variable): and the mathematics of unreal, imag-
inary magnitudes (finite 8nd constant). Transfinite numbers-
numbers lying beyond INFINITY. The possibility of different infini.
ties.

T HERE is in existence an idea which a man should always
call to mind when too much subjugated hy the illusions of
the reality of the unreal, visible world in which every-
thing has a beginning and an end. It is the idea of infinity, the
fact of infinity.
In the book A New Era of Thought-concerning which I have
had already much to say-in the chapter "Space the Scientific
Basis of Altruism and Religion," Hinton says:
. . . When we come upon infinity in any mode of our thought, it
is a sign that that mode of thought is dealing with a higher reality than
it is adapted for, and in struggling to represent it, can only do so by an
infinite ncmber of terms (of realities of a higher order).
Truly what is infinity, as the ordinary mind represents it to itself?
It is the only reality and at the same time it is the abyss, the
bottomless pit into which the mind falls, after having risen to heights
to which it is not native.
Let us imagine for a moment that a man begins to feel infinity
in everything: every thought, every idea leads him to the realization
of infinity.
This will inevitably happen to a man approaching an understand-
ing of a higher order of reality.
But what will he feel under such circumstances?
243

244

TERTIUM ORGANUM

He will sense a precipice, an abyss everywhere, no matter where
he looks; and experience indeed an incredible horror, fear and
sadness, until this fear and sadness shall transform themselves into
the joy of the sensing of a new reality.
". . . An intolerable sadness is the very first experience of the
Neophyte in occultism. . . ." says the author of Light on the
Path.
We have already examined into the manner in which a two-dimen-
sional being might approach to a comprehension of the third dimen-
sion. But we have never asked ourselves the question: what would
it feel, beginning to sense the third dimension, beginning to be con-
scious of "a new world" environing it?
First of all, it would feel astonishment and fright-fright ap-
proaching horror; because in order to find the new world it must
lose the old one.

Let us imagine the predicament of an animal in which flashes of
human understanding have begun to appear.
What will it sense first of all? First of all, that its old world,
the world of the animal, its comfortable, habitual world, the one in
which it was born, to which it has become accustomed, and which
it imagines to be the only real one, is crumbling away and falling
all around it. Everything that before seemed real, becomes false,
delusive, fantastic, unreal. The impression of the unreality of all
its environment will be very strong.
Until such a being shall learn to comprehend the reality of
another, higher order, until it shall understand that behind the
crumbling old world one infinitely more beautiful and new is open-
ing up, considerable time will necessarily pass. And during all
this time, a -being in whom this new consciousness is in process of
unfoldment must pass from one abyss of despair to another, from
one negation to another. It must repudiate everything around it-
self. Only by the repudiation of everything will the possibility
of entering into a new life be realized.
With the beginning of the gradual loss of the old world, the
logic of the two-dimensional being-or that which stood for it for
logic-will suffer continual violation, and its strongest impression

THE LOGIC OF AN ANIMAL 245
will be that there is no logic at all, that no laws of any sort even
exist.

Formerly, when it was an animal, it reasoned:

This is this.
That is thaJ.
This is not that.

This house is my own.
That house is strange.
The. strange house is not my own.

The strange house and its own house the animal regards as differ-
ent objects, having nothing in common. But now it will surprisedly
understand that the strange house and its own house are EQUALLY
houses.
How will it express this in its language of perceptions? Strictly
speaking, it will not be able to express this at all, because it is im-
possihle to express concepts in the language of an animal. The
animal will simply mix up the sensations of the strange house and
its own house. Confusedly, it will hegin to feel some new proper-
ties in houses, and along with this it will feel less clearly those
properties which made the strange house strange. Simultaneously
with this, the animal will hegin to sense new properties which it
did not know before. As a result it will undoubtedly experience
the necessity for a system of generalization of these new proper-
ties-the necessity for a new logic expressing the relations of the
new order of things. But having no concepts it will not be in a
position to construe the axioms of Aristotelian logic, and will
express its impression of the new order in the form of the entirely
ahsurd hut more nearly true proposition:

This is that.

Or let us imagine that to the animal with the rudimentary logic
expressing its sensations,

This is this.
Tluit is that.
This is not that.

somebody tries to prove that two different objects, two houses-its
own and a strange one-are similar, that they represent one and

246

TERTIUM ORGANUM

the same thing, that they are both houses. The animal will never
credit this similarity. For it the two houses, its own, where it is
fed, and the strange one, where it is beaten if it enters, will remain
entirely different. There will be nothing in common in them for it,
and the effort to prove to it the similarity of these two houses will
lead to nothing until it senses this itself. Then, sensing confusedly
the idea of the likeness of two different ohjects, and heing without
concepts, the animal will express this as something illogical from
its own point of view. The idea, this and that are similar objects,
the articulate two.dimensional being will translate into the language
of its logic, in the shape of the formula: this is that; and of course
will pronounce it an absurdity, and that the sensation of the new
order of things leads to logical absurdities. But it will be unahle
to express that which it senses in any other way.
We are in exactly the same position-when we dead awaken-
i. e., when we men, come to the realization of that other life, to
the comprehension of higher things.
The same fright, the same loss of the real, the same impression
of utter and never-ending illogicality, the same fonnula: "this is
that," will amict us.
In order to realize the new world, we must understand the new
logical order of things.

Our usual logic assists us in the investigation of the relations of
the phenomenal world only. Many attempts have been made to
define what logic is. But logic is just as essentially undefinable
as is mathematics.
What is mathematics? The science of magnitudes.
What is logic? The science of concepts.
But these are not definitions, they are only the translation of the
name. Mathematics, or the science of magnitudes, is that system
which studies the quantitative relations between things; logic, or the
science of concepts, is that system which studies the qualitative
( categorical) relations hetween things.
Logic has heen built up quite in the same way as mathematics.
As with logic, so also with mathematics (at least the generally known
mathematics of "finite" and "constant" quantities), both were de-

THE AXIOMS OF LOGIC 247
duced by us from the observation of the phenomena of our world.
Generalizing our observations, we gradually discovered those rela-
tions which we called the fundamental laws of the world.
In logic, these fundamental laws are included in the axioms of
Aristotle and of Bacon.

A is A.
(That which was A will be A.)

A is not Not-A.
(That which was Not-A will be Not-A.)

Everything is either A or Not-A.
Everything will be either A or Not-A.

The logic of Aristotle and Bacon, developed and supplemented
by their many followers, deals with concepts only.
Logos, the word, is the object of logic. An idea, in order to be-
come the object of logical reasoning, in order to be subjected to the
laws of logic, must be expressed in a word. That which cannot
be expressed in a word cannot enter into a logical system. More-
over a word can enter into a logical system, can be subjected to
logical laws, only as a concept.
At the same time we know very well that not everything can be
expressed in words. In our life and in our feelings there is much
that cannot be expressed in concepts. Thus it is clear that even at
the present moment, at the present stage of our development, not
everything can be entirely logical for us. There are many things
which in their substan<:e are ozaside of logic altogether. This in-
cludes the entire region of feelings, emotions, religion. All art is
just one entire illogicality; and as we shall pr.esently see, mathe-
matics, the most exact of sciences, is entirely illogical.
If we compare the axioms of the logic of Aristotle and of Bacon
with the axioms of mathematics as it is commonly known, we find
between them complete similarity.
The axioms of logic,
A is A.
A is oot Not-A.

248 TERTIUM ORGANUM
Everything is either A or Not-A.

fully correspond to the fundamental axioms of mathematics, to the
axioms of identity and difference.

Every magnitude is equal to itself.
The part is less than the whole.
Two magnitudes, equal separately to a third, are equal to each
other, etc.

The similarity between the axioms of mathematics and those of
logic extends very far, and this permits us to draw a conclusion
about their similar origin.
The laws of mathematics and of logic are the laws of the reflec-
tion of the phenomenal world in our receptivity and in our reason-
ing faculty.
Just as the axioms of logic can deal with concepts only, and are
related solely to them, so the axioms of mathematics apply to finite
and constant magnitudes only, and are related solely to them.
THESE AXIOMS ARE UNTRUE IN RELATION TO INFINITE AND VARI-
ABLE MAGNITUDES, just as the axioms of logic are untrue even in
relation to emotions, to symbols, to the musicality and the hidden
meaning of words, to say nothing of those ideas which cannot be
expressed in words.
What does this mean?
It means that the axioms of logic and of mathematics are deduced
by us from the observation of phenomena, i. e., of the phenomenal
world, and represent in themselves a certain conditional incorrect-
ness, which is necessary for the knowledge of the unreal "subjective"
world-in the true meaning of that word.

As has been said before, we have in reality two mathematics.
One, the mathematics of finite and constant numbers, represents a
quite artificial construction for the solution of problems based on
conditional data. The chief of these conditional data consisfis in the
fact that in problems of this mathematics there is always taken the t
of the universe only, i. e., one section only of the universe is taken,

TWO MATHEMATICS

249

which section is never taken in conjunction with another one. This
mathematics of finite and constant magnitudes studies an artificial
universe, and is in itself something especially created on the basis
of our observation of phenomena, and serves for the simplification
of these observations. Beyond phenomena the mathematics of finite
and constant numbers cannot go. It is dealing with an imaginary
world, with imaginary magnitudes. The practical results of those
applied sciences which are built upon mathematical science should
not confuse the observer, because these are merely the solutions of
problems in definite artificial conditions.
The other, the mathematics of infinite and variable magnitudes,
represents something entirely real, built upon the reasonings in re-
gard to a real world.
The first is related to the world of phenomena, which represents
in itself nothing other than our incorrect apprehension and percep-
tion of the world.
The second is related to the world of noumena, which represents
in itself the world as it is.
The first is unreal, it exists in our consciousness, in our imagina-
tion.
The second is real, it expresses the relations of a real world.

The mathematics of transfinite numbers, so called, may serve as
an example of "real mathematics," violating the fundamental axioms
of our mathematics (and logic).
By transfinite numbers, as their name implies, is meant numbers
beyond infinity.
Infinity, as represented by the sign 00 is the mathematical expres-
sion with which, as such, it is possible to perform all operations:
divide, multiply, raise to powers. It is possible to raise infinity to
the power of infinity-it will be oo()). This magnitude is an in-
finite number of times greater than simple infinity. And at the same
time they are both equal: 00 = oo()). And this is the most remark-
able property of transfinite numbers. You may perform with them
any operations whatsoever, they wiU change in a corresponding man-
ner, remaining at the same time equal. This violates the funda-
mental laws of mathematics accepted for finite numbers. After a

250

TERTIUM ORGANUM

change, the finite number cannot be equal to itself. But here we
see how, changing, the transfinite number remains equal to itself.
After all, transfinite numbers are entirely real. We can find
examples corresponding to the expression 00 and even 00 00 and
oo(X)OO in our world.
Let us take a line-any segment of a line. We know that the
number of points on this line is equal to infinity, for a point has
no dimension. If our segment is equal to one inch, and beside it
we shall imagine a segment a mile long, then in the little segment
each point will corre5pond to a point in the large one. The number
of points in a segment one inch long is infinite. The number
of points in a segment one mile long is also infinite. We get
00 = 00.
Let us now imagine a square, one side of which is a given seg-
ment, fJ. The number of lines in a square is infinite. The number
of points in each line is infinite. Consequently, the number of
points in a square is equal to infinity multiplied by itself an infinite
number of times 00 00 . This magnitude is undoubtedly infinitely
greater than the first one: 00, and at the same time they are equal,
as all infinite magnitudes are equal, because, if there be an infinity,
then it is one, and cannot change.
Upon the square a 2 , let us construct a cube. This cube consists
of an infinite number of squares, just as a square consists of an
infinite number of lines, and a line of an infinite number of points.
Consequently, the number of points in the cube, a8 is equal to
oo(X)OJ, this expression is equal to the expression 00 00 and 00,
i. e., this means that an infinity continues to grow, remaining at the
sam.e time unchanged.

Thus in transfinite numbers, we see that two magnitudes equal
separately to a third, can be not equal to each other. Generally
speaking, we see that the fW1damental axioms of our mathematics
do not work there, are not there valid. We have therefore a full
right to establish the law, that the fundamental axioms of mathe-
matics enumerated above are not applicable to transfinite num-
bers, but are applicable and valid only for finite numbers.
We may also say that the fundamental axioms of our mathe-

THE NEW MATHEMATICS

251

matics are valid for constant magnitudes only. Or in other words
they demand unity of time and unity of place. That is, each mag-
nitude is equal to itself -at a given moment. But if we take
a magnitude which varies, and take it in different moments,
then it will not be equal to itself. Of course, we may say that
changing, it becomes another magnitude, that it is a given magni-
tude only so long as it does not change. But this is precisely the
thing that I am talking about.
The axioms of our usual mathematics are applicable to finite
and constant magnitudes only.
Thus quite in opposition to the usual view, we must admit that
the mathematics of finite and constant magnitudes is unreal, i. e.,
that it deals with the unreal relations of unreal magnitudes; while
the mathematics of infinite and Huent magnitudes is real, i. e., that
it deals with the real relations of real magnitudes.
Truly the greatest magnitudes of the first mathematics has no
dimension whatever, it is equal to zero, or a point, in comparison
with any magnitude of the second mathematics, ALL MAGNITUDES
OF WHICH, DESPITE THEm DIVERSITY, ARE EQUAL AMONG THEM-
SELVES.
Thus both here, as in logic, the axioms of the new mathematics ap-
pear as .absurdities:

".A magnitude can be not equal to itself.
A part oem be equal to the whole, or it can be greater than the
whole.
One of two equal magnitudes can be infinitely greater than another.
All DIFFERENT magnitudes are equal among themselves.

A complete analogy is observed between the axioms of mathe-
matics and those of logic. The logical unit-a concept-possesces
all the properties of a finite and constant magnitude. The funda-
mental axioms of mathematics and logic are essentially one and
the same. They are correct under the same conditions, and under
the same conditions they cease to be correct.
Without any exaggeration we may say that the fundamental
axioms of mathematics and of logic are correct only just as long as
mathematics and logic deal with magnitudes which are artificial,
conditional, and which do not exist in nature.

252 TERTIUM ORGANUM
The truth is that in nature there are no finite, constant magni-
tudes, just as also there are no concepts. The finite, constant mag-
nitude, and the concept are conditional abstractions, not reality,
but merely the sections of reality, so to speak.
How shall we reconcile the idea of the absence of constant mag-
nitudes with the idea of an immobile universe? At first sight one
appears to contradict the other. But in reality this contradiction
does not exist. Not this universe is immobile, but the greater uni-
verse, the world of many dimensions, of which we know that per-
petually moving section caned the three-dimensional infinite sphere.
Moreover, the very concepts of motion .and immobility need revision,
because, as we usually understand them with the aid of our reason,
they do not correspond to reality.
Already we have analyzed in detail how the idea of motion fol.
lows from our time-sense, i. e., from the imperfection of our space-
sense.
Were our space-sense more perfect in relation to any given ob-
ject, say to the body of a given man, we could embrace all his life
in time, from birth to death. Then within the limits of this em-
brace that life would be for us a constant magnitude. But now, at
every given moment of it, it is for us not a constant but a variable
magnitude. That which we call a body does not exist in reality. It
is only the section of that four-dimensional body that we never
see. We ought always to remember that our entire three-dimen-
sional world does not exist in reality. It is a creation of our im-
perfect senses, the result of their imperfection. This is not the
world but merely that which we see of the world. The three-dimen-
sional world-this is the four-dimensional world observed through
the narrow slit of OUr senses. Therefore all magnitudes which we
regard as such in the three-dimensional world are not real mag-
nitudes, but merely artificially assumed.
They do not exist really, in the same way as the present does
not exist really. This has been dwelt upon before. By the present
we designate the transition from the future into the past. But this
transition has no extension. Therefore the present does not exist.
Only the future and the past exist.
Thus constant magnitudes in the three-dimensional world are
only abstractions, just as motion in the three-dimensional world
is, in substance, an abstraction. In the three-dimensional world

INFINITE MAGNITUDES

253

there is no change, no motion. In order to think motion, we al-
ready need the four-dimensional world. The three-dimensional
world does not exist in reality, or it exists only during one ideal
moment. In the next ideal moment there already exists another
three-dimensional world. Therefore the magnitude A in the fol-
lowing moment is already not A, but B, in the next C, and so
forth to infinity. It is equal to itself in one ideal moment only.
In other words, within the limits of each ideal moment the axioms
of mathematics aTe true; for the comparison of two ideal moments
they are merely conditional, as the logic of Bacon is conditional in
comparison with the logic of Aristotle. In time, i. e., in relation to
variable magnitudes, from the standpoint of the ideal moment, they
are untrue.
The idea of constancy or variability emanates from the im-
potence of our limited reason to comprehend a thing otherwise
than hy its section. If we would comprehend a thing in four dimen-
sions, let us say a human body from birth to death, then it will
he the whole and constant body, the section of which we call a-chang-
ing-in-time human body. A moment of life, i. e., a body as we know
it in the three-dimensional world, is a point on an infinite line.
Could we comprehend this hody as a whole, then we should know it
as an absolutelr constant magnitude, with all its multifariousness of
fonns, states and positions; but then to this constant magnitude the
axioms of our mathematics and logic would be inapplicable, because
it w;ould he an infinite magnitude.
We cannot comprehend this infinite magnitude. We compre-
hend always its sections onlr. And our mathematics and logic are
related to this imaginary section of the universe.

CHAPTER XXI

Man's transition to a higher logic. The necessity for rejecting everything
"real." "Poverty of the spirit." The recognition of the infinite
alone as real. Laws of the infinite. Logic of the finite-the
Organon of Aristotle and the Novum Organum of Bacon. Logic
of the infinite-Tertium Organum. The higher logic as an instru-
ment of thought, as a key to the mysteries of nature, to the hidden
side of life, to the world of noumena. A definition of the world of
noumena on the basis of all the foregoing. The impression of the
noumenal world on an unprepared consciousness. "The thrice un-
known darkness in the contemplation of which all knowledge is re-
solved into ignorance."

E VERYTHING that has been said about mathematical mag-
nitudes is true also with regard to logical concepts.
Finite mathematical magnitudes and logical concepts are
subject to the same laws.
We have now established that the laws discovered by us in a
space of three dimensions, and operating in that space, are inap-
plicable, incorrect and untrue in a space of a greater number of
dimensions.
And as this is true of mathematics, so is it true of logic.
As soon as we begin to consider infinite and variable magnitudes
instead of those which are finite and constant, we perceive that
the fundamental axioms of our mathematics cannot be applied to
the former class.
And as soon as we begin to think in other terms than those of
concepts, we must be prepared to encounter an enormous number
of absurdities from the standpoint of existing logic.
These absurdities seem to us such, because we approach the world
of many dimensions with the logic of the three-dimensional world.
It has been proven already that to an animal, i. e., to a two-
dimensional being, thinking not by concepts, but by perceptions,
our logical ideas must seem absurd.
254

S C I E N C EMU S T COM E TOM Y S TIC ISM 255
The logical relations in the world of many dimensions seem
equally absurd to us. We have no reason whatsoever to hope that
the relations of the world of causes can be logical from our point
of view. On the contrary, it may be said that EVERYTHING LOGICAL
is phenomenal. Nothing can be logical, from our standpoint,
there. All that is there must seem to us a logical absurdity, non-
sense. We must remember that it is impossible to penetrate there
with our logic.
The relation of the general trend of the thought of humanity
toward the "other world" has always been highly incorrect.
In "positivism" men have denied that other world altogether.
This was because, not admitting the possibility of relations other
than those fonnulated by Aristotle and Bacon, men denied the
very existence of that which seemed absurd and impossible from
the standpoint of those formulre. Also, in spiritism they attempted
to construct the noumenal world on the model of the phenomenal,
that is, against reason, against nature, they wanted at all costs to
prove that the other world is logical from our standpoint, that
the same laws of causality operate just as in our world, and that
the other world is nothing more than the extension of ours. The
"other world" of spiritists or spiritualists in all existing descrip-
tions of it is a naive and barbaric concept of the unknown.
Positive philosophy perceived the absurdity of all dualistic
theses, but having no power to expand the field of its activity,
limited by logic and "the infinite sphere," it could think of nothing
better than to DENY.
Mystical philosophy alone felt the possibility of relations other
than those of the phenomenal world. But it was arrested by hazy
and unclear sensations, finding it impossible to define and classify
them.
Nevertheless, science must come to mysticism, because in mys-
ticism there is a new method-and then to the study of different
fonns of consciousness, i. e., of forms of receptivity different from
our own. Science should throw off almost everything old and
should start afresh with a new theory of knowledge.
Science cannot deny the fact that mathematics grows, expands,
and escapes from the limits of the visible and measurable world.
Entire departments of mathematics take into consideration quan-
titative relations which dio not and do not exist in the real world of

256

TERTIUM ORGANUM

pOSItIvism, i. e., relations which have no correspondence to any
realities in the visible, three-dimensional world.
But there cannot be any mathematical relations to which the
relation of some realities would not correspond. Therefore math-
ematics transcends the limits of our world, and penetrates into a
world unknown. This is the telescope, by the aid of which we
begin to investigate the space of many dimensions with its worlds.
Mathematics goes ahead of our thought, ahead of our power of
imagination and perception. Even now it is engaged in caculating
relations which we cannot imagine or comprehend.
It is impossible to deny all this, even from the strictly "posi-
tivistic," i. e., positive standpoint. Thus science, having admitted
the possibility of the expansion of mathematics beyond the limits
of the sensuously perceived world-that is beyond the limits of a
world accessible (though theoretically) to the organs of sense and
their mechanical aids-must thereby recognize the expansion of
the real world far beyond the limits of any "infinite sphere" or of
our logic, i. e., must recognize the reality of "the world of many di-
mensions."
The recognition of the reality of the world of many dimensions
is the already accomplished transition to, and understanding of,
the world of the wondrous. And this transition to the wondrous
is impossible without the recognition of the reality of new logical
relations which are absurd and impossible from the standpoint of
our logic.
What are the laws of our logic?
They are the laws of our receptivity of the three-dimensional
world, or the laws of our three-dimensional receptivity of the
world.
If we desire to escape from the three-dimensional world and go
farther, we must first of all work out the fundamental logical prin-
ciples which would permit us to observe the relations of things in
a world of many dimensions-seeing in them a certain reasonable-
ness, and not complete absurdity. If we enter there armed only
with the principles of the logic of the three-dimensional world,
these principles will drag us back, will not give us a chance to rise
from the earth.
First of all we must throw off the chains of our logic. This is
the first, the great, the chief liberation toward which humanity

THE WORLD IS ONE

257

must strive. Man, throwing off the chains of "three-dimensional"
logic, has already penetrated, in thought, into a
other world. And
not only is this transition possible, but it is accomplished con-
stantly. Although unhappily we are not entirely conscious of our
rights in "another world," and often sacrifice these rights, regard-
ing ourselves as limited to this earthly world, paths nevertheless
exist. Poetry, mysticism, the idealistic philosophy of all ages and
peoples, preserve the traces of such transitions. Following these
traces, we ourselves can find the path. Ancient and modem think-
ers have given us many keys with which we may open mysterious
doors; many magical formulre, before which these doors open of
themselves. But we have not understood either the purpose of
these keys or the meaning of the formulre. We have also lost the
understanding of magical ceremonies and rites of initiation into
mysteries which had a single purpose: to help this transformation in
the soul of man.
Therefore the doors remained closed, and we even denied that
there was anything whatever behind them; or, suspecting the ex-
istence of another world, we regarded it as similar to ours, and
separate from ours, and tried to penetrate there unconscious of
the fact that the chief obstacle in our path was our own division of
the world into this world and that.
The world is one, only the ways of knowing it are different;
and with imperfect methods of knowledge it is impossible to pene-
trate into that which is accessible to perfect methods only.
All attempts to penetrate mentally into that higher, noumenal
world, or world of causes, by means of the logic of the phenomenal
world, if they did not fail altogether, or did not lead to castles in the
air, gave only one result: in becoming conscious of a new order of
things, a man lost the sense of the reality of the old order. The
visible world began to seem to him fantastic and unreal, every-
thing all about him was disappearing, was vanishing like smoke,
leaving a dreadful feeling of illusion. In everything he felt the
abyss of infinity, and everything was plunging into the abyss.
This sense of the infinite is the first and most terrible trial before
initiation. Nothing exists! A little miserable soul feels itself sus-
pended in an infinite void. Then even this void disappears!
Nothing exists. There is only infinity, a constant and continuous
division and dissolution of everything. The mystical literature of

258

TERTIUM ORGANUM

all peoples abounds in references to this sensation of darkness and
emptiness.
Such was that mysterious deity of the ancient Egyptians, about
which there exists a story in the Orpheus myth, in which it is de.
scribed as a "Thrice-unknown darkness in contempldtion of which
all knoulledge is resolved into ignorance." *
This means that man must have felt horror transcending all
limits as he approached the world of causes with the knowledge of
the world of phenomena only, his instrument of logic having
proved useless, because all the new eluded him. In the new as yet
he sensed chaos only, the old had disappeared, gone away and
become unreal. Horror and regret for the loss of the old mingled
with horror of the new-unknown and terrible by its infinitude.
At this stage man experiences the same thing that an animal,
becoming a man, would feel. Having looked into a new world
for an instant, it is attracted by the life left behind. The world
which it saw only for an instant seems but a dream, a vision, the
creation of imagination, but the familiar old world, too, is never
thereafter the same, it is too narrow, in it there is not sufficient
room. The awakening consciousness can no longer live the free
life of the beast. Already it knows something different, it hears
some voices, even though the body holds it. And the animal does
not know where or how it can escape from the body or from itself.
A man on the threshold of a new world experiences literally the
same thing. He has heard celestial harmonies, and the weari-
some songs of earth touch him ,:10 longer, nor do they move him-
or if they touch and move him it is because they remind him of
celestial harmonies, of the inaccessible, of the unknown. He has
experienced the sensation of an unusual EXPANSION of conscious-
ness, when everything was clear to him for a moment, and he can.
not reconcile himself to the sluggish earthly work of the brain.
These moments of the "sensation of infinity" are accompanied
by unusual emotions.
In theosophical literature, and in books on occultism, it is often
asserted that on entering into the "astral" world, man begins to
see new colors, colors which are not in the solar spectrum. t In
· "The Ancient Wisdom," by Annie Beeant, Introd. p. 23, Theosophical Publishing
Society, London.
t Although it should be remembered that we eee only three out of Beven colors of the
s.olar spectrum.

THE SENSATION OF INFINITY 259
this symbolism of the new colors of the "astral sphere" is con-
veyed the idea of those new emotions which man begins to feel
along with the sensation of the expansion of consciousness-"of
the sea pouring into the drop." This is the "strange bliss" of
which mystics speak, the "heavenly light" which saints "see," the
"new" sensations experienced by poets. Even conversational
psychology indentifies "ecstasy" with entirely unusual sensations,
inaccessible and unknown to man in the life of every day.
This sensation of light and of unlimited joy is experienced at the
moment of the expansion of consciousness (the unfoldment of the
mystical lotus of the Hindu yogi), at the moment of the sensation of
infinity, and it yields also the sensation of darkness and of unlim-
ited horror.
What does this mean?
How shall we reconcile the sensation of light with the sensation
of darkness, the sensation of joy with that of horror? Can these
exist simultaneously? Do they occur simultaneously?
They do so occur, and must be exactly thus. Mysticalliterature
gives us examples of it. The simultaneous sensations of light and
darkness, joy and horror, symbolize as it were the strange duality
and contradiction of human life. It may happen to a man of
dual nature, who following one side of his nature has been led far
into "spirit," and on the other side is deeply immersed in "mat-
ter," i. e., in illusion, in unreality-to one who believes too much
in the reality of the unreal.
Generally speaking the sensation of light, of life, of conscious-
ness penetrating all, of happiness, gives a new world. But the
same world to the unprepared mind will give the sensation of in-
finite darkness and horror. In this case the sensation of horror
will arise from the loss of everything real, from the disappearance of
this world.
In order not to experience the horror of the new world, it is
necessary to know it beforehand, either emotionally-by faith or
love--or intellectually" by reason.
And in order not to experience horror from the loss of the old
world, it is necessary to have renounced it voluntarily either
through faith or reason.
One must renounce all the beautiful, bright world in which we
are living; one must admit that it is ghostly, phantasmal, unreaJ,

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

deceitful, illusory, mayavic. One must reconcile oneself to this un-
reality, not be afraid of it, but rejoice at it. One must give up
everything. One must become POOR IN SPIRIT, i. e., make oneself
poor by the effort of one's spirit.
This most profound philosophical truth is expressed in the
beautiful evangelical symbol:

Blessed are the poor in spiri
: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

These words become clear in the sense of a renouncement of the
material world only. "Poor in spirit" does not mean poor mate-
rially, in the worldly meaning of the word, and still less does it
signify poverty of spirit. Spiritual poverty is the renouncement
of matter; such "poverty" is his when a man has no earth under
his feet, no sky above his head.

Foxes have h/Oles, and birds oj the air have nests, but the Son oj man
hath not where to lay his head.
This is the poverty of the man who is entirely alone, because
father, mother, other men, even the nearest here on earth he begins
to regard differently, not as he regarded them before; and re-
nounces them because he discerns the true substances that he is
striving toward; just as, renouncing the phenomenal illusions of the
world, he approaches the truly real.
The moment of transition-that terrible moment of the loss 0/
the old and the unfoldment of the new-has been represented in
innumerable allegories in ancient literature. To make this transi-
tion easy was the purpose of the mysteries. In India, in Egypt,
in Greece, special preparatory rituals existed, sometimes merely
symbolical, sometimes real, which actually brought a soul to the
very portals of the new world, and opened these portals at the
moment of initiation. But no outward rituals and ceremonies
could take the place of self-initiation. The great work must have
been going on inside the soul and mind of man.

But how can logic help a man to pass to the consciousn
s of a
new and higher world?

T RAN S C END EN TAL LOG I C 261
We have seen that MATHEMATICS has already found the path into
that higher order of things. Penetrating there, it first of all re-
nounces its fundamental axioms of identity and difference.
In the world of infinite and fluent magnitudes, a magnitude may
be not equal to itself; a part may be equal to the whole; and of two
equal magnitudes on.e may be infinitely greater than the other.
All this sounds like an absurdity from the standpoint of the
mathematics of finite and constant numbers. But the mathematics
of finite and constant numbers is itself the calculation of relations
between non-existent magnitudes, i. e., an absurdity. And there-
fore only that which from the standpoint of this mathematics
seems an absurdity, can be the truth.
Logic now goes along the same path. It must renounce itself,
come to perceive the necessity for its own annihilation-then out
of it a new and higher logic can arise.
In his Critique of Pure Reason Kant proved the possibility
of transcendental logic.
Before Bacon and earlier than Aristotle, in the ancient Hindu
scriptures, the formulre of this higher logic were given, opening
the doors of mystery. But the meaning of these formulre was
rapidly lost. They were preserved in ancient books, but remained
there as some strange mummeries of extinguished thought, the words
without real content.
New thinkers again discovered these principles, and expressed
them in new words, but again they remained incomprehensible,
again they suffered transformation into some unnecessary orna-
mental form of words. But the idea persisted. A consciousness of
the possibility of finding and establishing the laws of the higher
world was never lost. Mystical philosophy never regarded the
logic of Aristotle as all-embracing and all-powerful. It built its
system outside 01 logic or above logic, unconsciously going along
those paths of thought paved in remote antiquity.
The higher logic existed before deductive and inductive logic was
formulated. This higher logic may be called intuitive logic-the
logic of infinity, the logic of ecstasy.
Not only is this logic possible, but it exists, and has existed from
time immemorial; it has heen formulated many times; it has en-
tered into philosophical systems as their key-but for some strange
reason haJ not been recognized as logic.

262 TERTIUM ORGANUM
It is possible to deduce the system of this logic from many
philosophical systems. The most precise and complete formulation
of the law of higher logic I find in the writing of Plotinus, in his
On Intelligible Beauty. I shall quote this passage in the succeed-
ing chapter.
I have called tMs system of higher logic Tertium Organum be-
cause for us it is the third canon-third instrument-of tlwught
after those of Aristotle and Bacon. The first was the Organon, the
second, N ovum Organum. But the third existed earlier than the
first.
Man, master of this instrument, of this key, may open the door
of the world of causes without fear.
The axioms which Tertium Organum embraces cannot be fonnu-
lated in our language. If we attempt to formulate them in spite
of this, they will produce the impression of absurdities. Taking
the axioms of Aristotle as a model, we may express the principal
axiom of the new logic in our poor earthly language in the follow-
ing manner:

A is both A and Not-A.

Everything is both A and Not!A.

or,

Everything is All.

But these axioms are in effect absolutely impossible. They are
not the axioms of higher logic, they are merely attempts to express
the axioms of this logic in concepts. In reality the ideas of higher
logic are inexpressible in concepts. When we encounter such an
inexpressibility it means that we have touched the world of causes.
The logical formula: A is both A and Not-A, corresponds to the
mathematical formula: A magnitude can be greater or less than
itself.
The absudity of both these propositions shows that they cannot
refer to our world. Of course absurdity, as such, is indeed not an
index of the attributes of noumena, but the attributes of noumena
will certainly be expressed in what are absurdities to us. To hope
to find in the world of causes anything logical from our standpoint
is just as useless as to think that the world of things can exist in

"IDOLS" OF OUR WORLD 263
accordance with the laws of a world of shadows or stereometry ac-
cording to the laws of planimetry.
To master the fundamental principles of higher logic means to
master the fundamentals of the understanding of a space of higher
dimensions, or of the world of the wondrous.
In order to approach to a clear understanding of the relations
of the multi-dimensional world, we must free ourselves from all
the "idols" of our world, as Bacon calls them, i. e., from all ob.
stacles to correct receptivity and reasoning. Then we shall have
taken the most important step toward an inner affinity with the
world of the wondrous.
A two-dimensional being, in order to approach to an understand-
ing of the three-dimensional world, already should have become
a three-dimensional being before it can rid itseH of its "idols," i. e.,
of its «onventional--converted into axiomatic-ways of feeling and
thinking, which create for it the illusion of two-dimensionality.
What is it exactly from which the two-dimensional being must
liberate itseH?
First of all-and most important-from the assurance that that
which it sees and senses really exists; from this will come the con-
sciousness of the incorrectnes of its perception of the world, and
then the idea that the real, new world must exist in quite other forms
-new, incomparable, incommensurable with relation to the old
ones. Then the two-dimensional being must overcome its sureness
of the correctness of its categories. It must understand that things
which seem to it different and separate from one another may be
parts of some to it incomprehensible whole, or that they have much
in common which it does not perceive; and that things which seem to
it one and indivisible are in reality infinitely complex and multi.
farious.
The mental growth of the two-dimensional being must proceed
along the path of the recognition of those common properties of
objects, unknmun to il before., which are the result of their similar
origin or similar functions, incomprehensible from the point of
view of a plane.
When once the two-dimensional being has admitted the possibility
of the existence of hitherto unknown common properties of objects,
which before seemed different, then it has already approached to
our own understanding of the world. It has approached to our

264

TERTIUM ORGANUM

logic, has begun to understand the collective name, i. e., a word
used not as a proper noun, but as an appellate noun-a word ex-
pressing a concept.
The "idols" of the two-dimensional being, hindering the develop-
ment of its consciousness, are those proper nouns, which it has it-
self given to all the objects surrounding it. For such a being each
object has its own proper noun, corresponding to its perception
of the object; common names, corresponding to concepts, it knows
not of. Only by getting rid of these idols, by understanding that
the names of things can be not only proper, but common ones as
well, will it be possible for it to advance farther, to develop mentally,
to approach the human understanding of the world. Take the most
simple sentence:

John and Peter are both men.

For the two-dimensional being this will be an absurdity, and it will
represent the idea to itself after this fashion:

John and Peter are both Johns and Peters.

In other words, every one of our logical propositions will be an
absurdity to it. Why this is so is clear. Such a being has no con-
cepts; the proper nouns which constitute the speech of such a being
have no plurals. It is easy to understand that any plural of ou.r
speech will seem to it an absurdity.

Where are our "idols?" From what shall we liberate ourselves
in order to pass to an understanding of the multi-dimensional world?
First of all we must get rid of our assurance that we see and sense
that which exists in reality, and that the real world is like the world
which we see--i. e., we must rid ourselves of the illusion of the
material world. We must understand mentally all the illusoriness
of the world perceived by us in space and time, and know that
the real world cannot have anything in common with it; to under.
stand that it is impossible to imagine the real world in terms of
fonn; and finally we must perceive the conditionality of the axioms

OUR LOGIC DUALISTIC

265

of our mathematics and logic, related as they are to the unreal
phenomenal world.
In mathematics the idea of infinity will help us to do this. The
unreality of finite magnitudes in comparison with infinite ones is
obvious. In logic let us dwell upon the idea of monism, i. e., the
fundamental unity of everything which exists, and consequently
recognize the impossibility of constructing any axioms, which in-
volve the idea of opposites-of theses and antitheses-upon which
our logic is built.
The logic of Aristotle and of Bacon is at bottom dualistic. If
we really deeply assimilate the idea of monism, we shall dethrone
the "idol" of this logic.
The fundamental axioms of our logic reduce themselves to identity
and contradiction, just as do the axioms of mathematics. At the
bottom of them all lies the admission of our general axiom, namely,
that every given something has something opposite to it; therefore
every proposition has its anti-proposition, every thesis has its anti-
thesis. To the existence of any thing is opposed the non-existence
of that thing. To the existence of the world is opposed the non-ex-
istence of the world. Object is opposed to subject; the objective
world to the subjective; the I is opposed to the Not-I; to motion-
immobility; to variability-constancy; to unity-heterogeneity; to
truth-falsehood; to good-evil. And in conclusion, to every A
in general is opposed Not-A.
The recognition of the reality of these divisions is necessary for
the acceptance of the- fundamental axioms of the logic of Aristotle
and Bacon, i. e., the absolute and incontestable recognition of the
duality of the world-of dualism. The recognition of the unreality
of these divisions and that of the unity of all opposites is necessary
for the comprehension of higher logic.

At the very beginning of this book the existence of THE WORLD
and of THE PSYCHE was admitted, i. e., the reality of the dual divi-
sion of everything existent, because all other opposites are derived
from this opposition.
Duality is the condition of our knowledge of the phenomenal
(three-dimensional) world; this is the instrument of our knowledge

266

TERTIUM ORGANUM

of phenomena. But when we come to the knowledge of the nou-
menal world (or the world of many dimensions), this duality begins
to hinder us, appears as an obstacle to knowledge.
Dualism is the chief "idol"; let us free ourselves from it.
The two-dimensional being, in order to comprehend the relations
of things in three dimensions and our logic, must renounce its "idol"
-the absolute singularity of objects which pennits it to call them
solely by their proper names.
We, in order to comprehend the world of many dimensions, must
renounce the idol of duality.
But the application of monism to practical thought meets the in-
sunnountable obstacle of our language. Our language is incapable
of expressing the unity of opposites, just as it cannot express spatially
the relation of cause to effect. Therefore we must reconcile our-
selves to the fact that all attempts to express super-logical relations
in our language will seem absurdities, and really can only give
hints at that which we wish to express.
Thus the formula,

A is both A and Not-A,

or,

Everything is both A and Not-A,

representing the principal axioms of higher logic, expressed in our
language of concepts, sounds absurd from the standpoint of our
usual logic, and is not essentially true.
Let us therefore reconcile ourselves to the fact that it is impossible
to express super-logical relations in our language as it is at present
constituted.
The fonnula., "A is both A and Not-A" is untrue because in the
world of causes there exists no opposition between "A" and "Not-A."
But we cannot express their real relation. It would be more correct
to say:

A is all.

But this also would be untrue, because "A" is not only all, but
also an arbitrary part of all, and at the same time a given part.
This is exactly the thing which our language cannot express. It

HIGHER LOGIC

267

is to this that we must accustom our thought, and train it along
these lines.

We must train our thought to the idea that separateness and in-
clusiveness are not opposed in the real world, but exist together
and simultaneously without contradicting one another. Let us un-
derstand that in the real world one and the same thing can be both
a part and the whole, i. e., that the whole, without changing, can
be its own part; understand that there are no opposites in general,
that everything is a certain image of all.
Md then, beginning to understand all this, we shall grasp the
separate ideas concerning the essentials of the "noumenal world,"
or the world of many dimensions in which we really live.
In such case the higher logic, even with its imperfect formulre,
as they appear in our rough language of concepts, represents in
spite of this a powerful instrument of knowledge of the world, our
only means of preservation from deceptions.
The application of this instrument of thought gives the key to the
mysteries of nature, to the world as it is.

Let us endeavor to enumerate those properties of THE WORLD OF
CAUSES which result from all the foregoing.
It is first of all necessary to reiterate that it is impossible to ex-
press in words the properties of the world of causes. Every thought
expressed about them in our ordinary language will be false. That
is, we may say in relation to the "real" world that "every spoken
thought is a lie." It is possible to speak about it only conditionally,
by hints, by symbols. And if one interprets literally anything said
about it, nothing but absurdity results. Generally speaking, every-
thing said in words regarding the world of causes is likely to seem
absurd, and is in reality its mutilation. The truth it is impossible
to express; it is possible only to give a hint at it, to give an impulse
to thought. But everyone must discover the truth for himself.
"Another's truth" is worse than a lie, because it is two lies. This
explains why truth very often can be expressed only by means of

268

TERTIUM ORGANUM

paradox, or even in the form of a lie. Because, in order to speak
of truth without a lie, we should know some other language--ours
is unsuitable.
What then are we able to say about the world of many dimen-
sions, about the world of noumena, or world of causes?
I. In that world "TIME" must exist spatially, i. e. temporal
events must exist and not happen-exist before and after their man-
ifestation, and be located in one section, as it were. Effects must
exist simultaneously with causes. That which we name the law of
causality cannot exist there, because time is a necessary condition
for it. There cannot be anything which is measured by years, days,
hours-there cannot be before, now, after. Moments of different
epochs, divided by great intervals of time, ,xist simultaneously, and
may touch one another. Along with this, all the possibilities of a
given moment, even those opposite to one another, and all their re-
sults up to infinity, must be actualized simultaneously with a given
moment, but the length of a moment can be different on different
planes.
2. There is nothing measurable by our measures, nothing com-
mensurable with our objects, nothing greater or less than ou.r objects.
There is nothing situated on the right or left side, above or below
one of our objects. There can be nothing similar to our objects,
lines or figures and at the same time exist. Different points in our
space, divided for ue by enormous distances, may meet there. "Dis.
tance" or "proximity" are there defined by inner "affinity" or "re-
moteness," by sympathy or antipathy, i. e., by properties which
seem to us to be subjective.
3. There is neither matter nor motion. There is nothing th
t
could possibly be weighed or photographed, or expressed in the
formulre of physical energy. There is nothing which has form,
color or odor-nothing possessing the properties of physical bodlies.
Nevertheless, the properties of the world of causes, granted an
understanding of certain laws, can be considered in enumerated cat-
egOrIes.
4. There is nothing dead or unconscious. Everything lives,
everything breathes, thinks, feels; everything is conscious, and
everything speaks.
5. In that world the axioms of our mathematics cannot be ap.

THE WORLD OF MANY DIMENSIONS 269
plied, because there is nothing finite. Everything there is infinite
and, from our standpoint, variable.
6. The laws of our logic cannot act there. From the stand-
point of our logic, that world is illogical. This is the realm the
laws of which are expressed in Tertium Organum.
7. The separateness of our world does not exist there. Every-
thing is the whole. And each particle of dust, without mentioning
of course every life and every conscious being, lives a life which is
one with the whole and includes the whole within itself.
8. In that world the duality of our world cannot exist. There
being is not opposed to non-being. Life is not opposed to death. On
the contrary, the one includes the other within itself. The unity and
multiplicity of the I; the.1 and the Not-I; motion and immobility;
union and separateness; good and evil; truth and falsehood-all
these divisions are impossible there. Everything subjective is ob.
jective, and everything objective is subjective. That world is the
world of the unity of opposites.
9. The sensation of the reality of that world must be accom-
panied by the sensation of the unreality of this one. At the same
time the difference between real and unreal cannot exist there, just
as the difference between subjeotive and objective cannot exist.
10. That world and our world are not two different worlds. The
world is one. That which we call our world is merely our incorrect
perception 0/ the world: the world seen by us through a narrow slit.
That world begins to be sensed by us as the wondrous, i. e., as some-
thing opposite to the reality of this world, and at the same time this,
our earthly world, begins to seem unreal. The sense of the won-
drous is the key to that world.
II. But everything that can be said about it will not define OUl"
relation to that world until we come to understand that even compre-
hending it we will not be able to grasp it as a whole, i. e., in all iLq
variety of relations, but can think of it only in this or that aspect.
12. Everything that is said about the world of causes refers also
to the All. But between our world and the All there may be many
transitions.

CHAPTER XXII

Theosophy of Max Miiller. Ancient India. Philosophy of the Vedanta.
Tal twam asi. Knowledge by means of the expansion of conscious.
ness as a reality. Mysticism of different ages and peoples. Unity
of experiences. Tertium Organum as a key to mysticism. Signs
of the noumenal world.. Treatise of Plotinus On Intelligible Beauty
as a misunderstood system of higher logic. Illumination in Jaco'b
Boehme. "A harp of many strings, of which each string is a sep.
arate instrument, while the whole is only one harp." Mysticism of
The Love of the Good. St. Avva Dorotheus and others. Clement of
Alexandria. Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu. Light on the Path. The
J7 oice of the Silence. Mohammedan mystics. Poetry of the Sufis.
Mystical states under narcotics. T1ie Anresthetic Revelation. Ex.
periments of Prof. James. Dostoyevsky on "time" (The Idiot>. In-
fluence of nature on the soul of man.

T o trace historically the process of the development of those
ideas and systems founded upon higher logic or proceeding
from it, would indeed be a matter of great interest and
importance. But this would be difficult and almost impossible of
accomplishment because we lack definite knowledge of the time and
origin, the means of transmitting, and the sequence of ideas in an-
cient philosophical systems and religious teachings. There are in-
numerable guesses and speculations concerning the manner of this
succession. Many of these guesses and speculations are accepted
as unquestioned until new ones appear which controvert them. The
opinions of different investiga'tors in regard to these questions are
very divergent, and the truth is often difficult to determine-it would
be more accurate to say "impossible" if conclusions had to be based
upon the material accessible to logical investigation.
I shall not dwell at all on the question of the succession of ideas,
either from the historical or any other point of view.
The proposed outline of systems which refer to the world of nou-
mena is not intended to be complete. This is not "tlle history of
270

MAX MULLER ON THEOSOPHY 271
thought," but merely examples of movements of thought which have
led to similar conclusions.

In the book Theosophy (or Psychological Religion) the noted
scholar Max Muller gives an interesting analysis of mystical religions
and mystical philosophical systems. He dwells much on India
and her teachings.

That which we can study nowhere but in India is the aU-absorbing in-
fluence which religion and philosophy may exercise on the human mind.
So far as we can judge a large class of people in India, not only the
priestly class, but the nobility also, not men only but women, never looked
upon their life on earth as something real. What was real to them was the
invisible, the life to come. What formed the theme of their conversations,
wh&t formed the subject of their meditations, was the real that alone lent
some kind of reality to this unreal phenomenal world. Whoever was
supposed to have caught a new ray of truth was visited by young and old,
was honored by princes and by kings, was looked upon indeed as holding
a position ifar above that of kings and princes. This is the side of life
of ancient India which deserves our study, because there has been nothing
like it in the whole world, not even in Greece or Palestine.
I know quite well, [says Miiller] that there never can be a whole nation
of philosophers or metaphysical dreamers. . . and we must never forget
that all through history, it is the few, not the many, who impress their char-
acter on a nation, and have a right to represent it as a whole. What do
we know of Greece at the time of the Ipnian and Eleatic philosophers, ex-
cept the utterances of Seven Sages? What do we know of the Jews at the
time of Moses, except the traditions preserved in the Laws and the Prophets?
It is the prophets, the poets, the lawgivers and teachers, however small
their number, who speak in the name of the people, and who alone stand
out to represent the nondescript multitude behind them, to speak their
thoughts and to express their sentiments.
Real Indian philosophy, even in that embryonic form in which we find
it in the Upanishads, stands completely by itself. And if we ask what was
the highest purpose of the teachings of the Upanishads we can state it in
three words, as it has been stated by the greatest J7 edanta * teachers them-
selves, namely Tat tWaIn asi. This means Thou art That. That stands for
that which is known to us under different names in different systems of an-
cient and modern philosophy. It is Zeus or the Eis Theos or To On in
Greece; it is what Plato meant by the Eternal Idea, what Agnostics call the
· Vedtinta is the end 0/ the Vedas. the abridgment and commentaries on the Vedas.
P. Ouspensky.

272 TERTIUM ORGANUM
Unknowable, what I call the Infinite in Nature. This is what in India is
called Brahman, the being behind all beings, the power that emits the
universe, sustains it and draws it back again to itself. The Thou is what I
called the Infinite in man, the Soul, the Self, the being behind every human
Ego, free from all bodily fetters, free from passions, free from all attach-
ments (Atman). The expression: Thou art That-means: thy soul is the
Brahman; or in other words, the subject and the object of all being and of
all knowing are one and the same.
This is the gist of what I call PsycHological Religion or Theosophy, the
highest summit of thought which the human mind has reached, which has
found different expressions in different religions and philosophies, but no.
where such a clear and powerful realization as in the ancient Upanishads of
India.

For as long as the individual soul does not free itself from Nescience,
or a belief in duality, it takes something else for itself. True knowlddge
of the Self or true self.knowledge, expresses itself in the words, "Thou art
That" or "I am Brahman," the nature of Brahman being unchangeable eternal
cognition. Until that stage has been reached, the individual soul is fettered
by the body, by the organs of sense, nay even by the mind and its various
functions.
The Soul (The Self) says the Vedanta philosopher, cannot be different
from the Brahman, because Brahman comprehends all reality and nothing
that really is can therefore be different from Brahman. Secondly, the indi.
vidual self cannot be conceived as a modification of Brahman, because Brah-
man by itself cannot be changed, whether by itself, because it is one and
perfect in itself, or by anything outside of it (because there exists nothing
outside of it). Here we see [says Miill er ], the Vedantist moving on exactly
the same stratum of thought in which Eleatic philosophers moved in Greece.
"If there is one Infinite," they said, "there cannot be another, for the other
would limit the one, and thus render it finite, so, as applied to God, the
Eleatics argued: "If God is to be the mightiest and the best, he must be one,
for if there were two or more, he would not be the mightiest and best." The
Eleaties continued their monistic argument by showing that this One Infinite
Being cannot be divided, so that anything could be called a portion of it,
because there is no power that could separate anything from it. Nay, it
cannot even have parts, for, as it has no beginning and no end, it can have
no parts, for a part has a beginning aDd an end.
These Eleatic ideas-namely that there is and there can be only One
Absolute Being, infinite, unchangeable, without a second, without parts and
passions-are the same ideas which underlie the Upanishads and have been
fully worked out in the Vedanta-Sutras.

ELEATIC MONISM

273

In most of the religions of the ancient world [says Miiller] the relation
between the soul and God has been represented as a return of the soul to
God. A yearning for God, a kind of divine home-sickness, finds expression
in most religions, but the road that is to lead us home, and the reception
which the soul may expect in the Father's house have been represented in
very different ways in different religions.
According to some religious teachers, a return of the soul to God is
possible after death only. . . .
According to other religious teachers, the final beatitude of the soul
can be achieved in this life. . . . That beatitude requires knowledge only,
knowl'edge of the necessary unity of what is divine in man with what is
divine in God. The Brahmins call it self-knowledge, that is to say, the
knowledge that our true self, if it is anything, can only be that Self which
is All in All, and beside which there is nothing else. Sometimes this con-
ception of the intimate relation between the human and the divine natures
comes suddenly, as the result of an unexplained intuition or self-recollec-
tion. Sometimes, however, it seems as if the force of logic had driven the
human mind to the same result. If God had once been recognized as the
Infinite in nature and the soul as the Infinite in man, it seemed to follow
that there could not be two Infinites. The Eleatics had clearly passed
through a similar phase of thought in their own philosophy. I.f there is
an Infinite, they said, it is one, for if there were two they could not be In-
finite, but would be finite one toward the other. But that which exists is
infinite, and there cannot be more such. Therefore that which exists is one.
Nothing can be more definite than this Eleatic Monism, and with it the
admission of a soul, the Infinite in man, as different from God, the Infinite
in nature, would have been inconceivable.
In India it was so expressed that Brahman and Atman (the spirit) were
in their nature one.
The early Christians also, at least those who had been brought up in the
schools of Neo-platonist philosophy, had a clqn perception that if the soul
is infinite and immortal in its nature, it cannot be anything beside God, but
that it must be of God and in God. St. Paul gave but his own bold expres-
sion to the same faith or knowledge, when he uttered the words which have
stnrtled so many theologians: In Him we live and move and have our being.
If anyone else had uttered these words they would at once have been con-
demned as pantheism. No doubt they are pantheism, and yet they express
the very key-note of Christianity. The divine sonship of man is only a
metaphorical expression but it was meant originally to embody the same
idea. . . . And when the question was asked how the consciousness of this
divine sonship could ever have been lost, the answer given by Christianity
was, by sin, the answer given by the Upanishads was, by avidra, nescience.
This marks the similarity, and at the same time the characteristic difference
between these two religions. The question how nescience laid hold on the
human soul, and made it imagine that it could live or move or have its true

274

TERTIUM ORGANUM

being anywhere but in Brahman, remains as unanswerable in Hindu phil-
osophy as in Christianity the question how sin first came into the world.
Both philosophies, that of the East and that of the West [says Muller]
start from a common point, namely from the conviction that our ordinary
knowledge is uncertain, if not altogether wrong. This revolt of the human
mind against itself is the first step in all philosophy.
In our own philosophical language we may put the question thus: how
did the real become phenomenal, and how can the phenomenal become real
again? Or, in other words, how was the infinite changed into the finite,
how was the eternal changed into the temporal, and how can the temporal
regain its eternal nature? Or, to put it into more familiar language, how
was this world created, and how can it be uncreated again?
Nescience or avidya is regarded as the cause of the phenomenal sem-
blance.
In the Upanishads the meaning of Brahman changes.
ometimes it
is almost an objective God, existing separately from the world. But then
we see Brahman as the essence of all things . . . and the soul, knowing that
it is no longer separated from that essence, learns the highest lesson of the
whole Vedanta doctrine: Tat twam asi; "Thou art That," that is to say, "Thou
who for a time didst seem to be something by thyself, art that, art really
nothing apart from the divine essence." To know Brahman is to be Brah-
man. . . .
Almost in the same words as the Eleatic philosophers and the German
mystics of the fourteenth century, the Vendantists argue that it would
be self-contradictory to admit that there could be anything besides the Infin-
ite or Brahman, which is All in All, and that therefore the soul also cannot
be anything different from it, can never claim a separate and independent
existence.
Brahman has to be conceived as perfect, and therefore unchangeable,
the soul cannot be conceived as a real modification or deterioration of
Brahman.
And as Brahman has neither beginning nor end, neither can it have any
parts; therefore the soul cannot be a part of Brahman, but the whole of
Brahman must be present in every individual soul. This is the same as the
teaching of Plotinus, who held with equal consistency, that the True Being
is totally present in every part of the Universe.
The Vedanta philosophy rests on the foundation thesis that the soul or the
Absolute Being or Brahman, are one in their essence. . . .
The fundamental principle of the Vedanta-philosophy is that in reality
there exists and there can exist nothing but Brahman, that Brahman is every-
thing. Idealistic philosophy has swept away this world-old prejudice
more thoroughly in India than anywhere else.
The nescience (which creates the separation between the individual soul
and Brahman) can be removed by science or knowledge only. And this
knowledge or vidya is imparted by the VedCinta, which shows that all our

VEDANTA PHILOSOPHY

275

ordinary knowledge is simply the result of ignorance or nescience, is un-
certain, deceitful, and perishable, or as we should say, is phenomenal, rela-
tive, and conditioned. The true knowledge or complete insight cannot be
gained by sensuous perception nor by inference. Accoroing to the ortho-
dox Vendantist, Sruti alone, or what is called "revelation, can impart that
knowledge and remove that nescience which is innate in human nature.
Of the Higher Brahman nothing can be predicated but that it is, and
that through our nescience, it appears to be this or that.
When a great Indian sage was asked to describe Brahman, he was simply
silent-that was his answer.
When it is said that Brahman is, that means at the same time that Brah-
man is not; that is to say, that Brahman is nothing of what is supposed to
exist in our sensuous perceptions.

Whatever we may think of this philosophy, we cannot deny its mda-
physical boldness and its logical consistency. If Brahman is all in all, the
One without a second, nothing can be said to exist that is not BrahTTWn.
there is no room for anything outside the infinite and the Universal. nor is
there room for two infinites, for the infinite in nature and the infinite in
man. There is and there can be one infinite, one Brahman only. This is
the beginning and the end of the Vedanta.
As the shortest summary of the ideas of the Vedanta two verses of
Sankara, the commentator and interpreter of J7 edanta are often quoted:

Bra1una is true, the world is false.
The soul is Brahma and is nothing else.

This is really a very perfect summary. What truly and really exists is
Brahman, the One Absolute Being; the world is false, or rather is not what
it seems to be; that is, everything which is present to us by means of sense
is phenomenal and relative, and can be nothing else. The soul again, or
rather every man's soul, though it may seem to be this or that, is in reality
nothing but Brahma.
In relation to the question of the origin of the world two famous com-
mentators of the Vendanta, Sankara and Ramanuga differ. Ramii,nuga holds
to the theory of evolution, Sankara-to the theory of illusion.
It is very important to observe that the Vedantist does not go so far as
certain Buddhist philosophers who look upon the phenomenal world as
simply nothing. No, their world is real, only it is not what it seems to be.
Sankara claims for the phenomenal world a reality sufficient for all practi-
cal purposes, sufficient to determine our practical life, our moral obligations.
There is a veil. But the Vedanta-philosophy teaches us that the eternal
ligbt behind it can always be perceived more or less clearly through. philos-

276

TERTIUM ORGANUM

ophical knowledge. It can be perceived, because in reality it is always
there.
It may seem strange to find the results of the philosophy of Kant and
his followers thus anticipated under varying expressions in the Upanishads
and in the Vedanta-philosophy of ancient India.

In the chapters about the Logos and about Christian Theosophy
Max Miiller says that religion is the bridge between the Visible and
the Invisible, between Finite and Infinite.

It may be truly said that the founders of the religions of the world have
all been bridge-builders. As soon as the existence of a Beyond, of a
Heaven above the earth, of Powers above us and beneath us has been recog-
nized, a great gulf seemed to be fixed.

Among contemporary thinkers the noted psychologist, Prof. Wil-
liam James, approached nearer than all others to the ideas of Max
Miiller's theosophy.
In the last chapter of his book, The Varieties of Religious Exper-
ience, Prof. James says:

The warring gods and formulas of the various religions do indeed cancel
each other, but there is a certain uniform deliverance in which religions all
appear to meet-this is the liberation oj the soul. . . . Man becomes con-
scious that if his higher part is conterminous and continuous with a MORE
of the same quality, which is operative in the universe outside of him, and
which he can keep in working touch with, and in a fashion get on board of,
he can save himself when all his lower being has gone to pieces in the wreck.
What is the objective "Truth" of content of religious experiences? Is
such a "more" merely our own notion, or does it really exist? If so, in what
shape does it exist? And in what form should we conceive of that "union"
with it of which religious geniuses are so convinced?
It is in answering these questions that the various theologies perform their
theoretic work, and that their divergencies most come to light. They all
agree that the "more" really exists; though some of them hold it to exist in
the shape of a personal God or gods while others are satisfied to conceive
it as a stream of ideal tendency. . . . It is when they treat of the experience
of "union" with it that their speculative differences appear most clearly.
Over this point pantheism and theism, nature and second birth, works and
grace and Karma, immortality and reincarnation, rationalism and mysticism,
carryon inveterate disputes.
At the end of my lecture on Philosophy I held out the notion that an

MYSTICAL ST A TES DESCRIBED 277
impartial science of religions might sift out from the midst of their discrep-
ancies a common body of doctrine which she might also formulate on terms
to which physical science need not object. This, I said, she might adopt
as her own reconciling hypothesis, and recommend it for general belief.
Let me then propose as an hypothesis that whatever it may be on its
farther side, the "more" with which in religious experience we feel ourselves
connected is on its hither side the subconscious continuation of our conscious
life.
The conscious person is continuous with a wider self. . . .
The further limits of our being plunge, it seems to me, into an altogether
other dimension of existence from the sensible and merely "understandable"
world.

ame it the mystical region, or the super-natural region. . . . We be.
long to it, in a more intimate sense than that in which we belong to th...
visible world, for we belong in the most intimate sense wherever our ideal

belong. . . . The communion with this invisible world is a real process with
real results. . . .
. . . Personal religious experience has its roots and centre in mystical
states of consciousness.

But what, after all, is mysticism?
Returning to the terminology established in the foregoing chapters,
we may say that "mystical states of consciousness" are closely
bound up with knowledge received under conditions of expanded
receptivity.
Until quite recently psychology did not recognize the reality of
the mystical experience and regarded all mystical states as patho-
logical ones-unhealthy conditions of the normal consciousness.
Even now, many positivist-psychologists hold to this opinion, embrac-
ing in one common classification real mystical states, pseudo-mysti-
cal perversions of the usual state, purely psychopathic states and
more or less conscious deceit. .
This of course can be of no assistance to a correct understanding
of the question. Before going further let us therefore establish
certain criteria. for the identification of real mystical states:
Prof. James enumerates the following: ineffability, noetic quality,
transiency, passivity. But some of these characteristics belong also
to simple emotional states, and he fails to define exactly how mysti-
cal states can be distinguished from emotional ones of analogous
character.

278 TERTIUM ORGANUM
Considering mystical states as "knowledge by expanded conscious.
ness," it is possible to give quite definite criteria for their discern-
ment and their differentiation from the generality of psychic exper-
iences.
1. Mystical states give knowledge WHICH NOTHING ELSE CAN
GIVE.
2. Mystical states give knowledge of the real world with all its
signs and characteristics.
3. The mystical states of men of different ages and different peo-
ples exhibit an astonishing similarity, sometimes amounting to com-
plete identity.
4. The results of the mystical experience are entirely illogical
from our ordinary point of view. They are super-logical, i. e., Ter-
tium Organum, WHICH IS THE KEY TO MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE, is
applicable to them in all its entirety.

The last-named criterion is especially important-the illogicality
of the data of mystical experience forced science to repudiate them.
Now we have established that illogicality (from our standpoint)
is the necessary condition of the knowledge of truth or of the real
world. This does not mean that everything that is illogical is true
and real, but it means absolutely, that everything true and real is
illogical from our standpoint.
We have established the fact that it is impossible to approach the
truth with our logic, and we have also established the possibility of
penetrating into these heretofore inaccessible regions by means of
the new canon of thouglu.
The consciousness of the necessity for such an instrument of
thought undoubtedly existed from far back. For what, in substance,
does the formula Tat twam asi represent if not THE FUNDAMENTAL
AXIOM OF HIGHER LOGIC?
Thou art That means: thou art both thou and not thou, and cor-
responds to the super-logical formula, A is both A and Not-A.
If we examine ancient writings from this standpoint, then we shall
understand that their authors were searching for a new logic, and
were not satisfied with the logic of the things of the phenomenal
world. The seeming illogicality of ancient philosophical systems,

PLOTINUS ON HEAVEN

279

wInch portrayed an ideal world, as it were, instead of an existing
one, will then become comprehensible, for in these portrayals of
an ideal world, systems of higher logic often lie concealed.

One of such misunderstood attempts to construe a system of higher
logic, to give a precise instrument of thought, penetrating beyond the
limits of the visible world, is the treatise by Plotinus On Intelligible
Beauty.
Describing HEAVEN and THE GODS, Plotinus says:

All the gods are venerable and beautiful, and their beauty is immense.
What else however is it but intellect through which they are such? And
because intellect energizes in them in so great a degree as to render them
visible (by its light)? For it is not because their bodies are beautiful.
For these gods that have bodies do not through this derive their subsistence
as gods; but these also are gods through intellect. For they are not at one
time wise, and at another destitute of wisdom; but they are always wise, in
an impassive, stable and pure intellect. They likewise know all things,
not human concerns (precedaneously) but their own, which are divine, and
such as intellect sees. . . . For all things there are heaven, and there the
earth is heaven, as also are the sea, animals, plants, and men. The gods
likewise that it contains do not think men undeserving of their regard, nor
anything else that is there (because everything there is divine). And they
occupy and pervade without ceasing the whole of that (blissful) region.
For the life which is there is unattended with labor, and truth (as Plato
says in the "Phredrus") is their generator, and nutriment, their essence and
nurse. They likewise see all things, not those with which generation, but
those with which essence is present. And they perceive themselves in others.
For all things there are diaphanous; and nothing is dark and resisting, but
everything is apparent to everyone internally and throughout. For light
everywhere meets with light; since everything contains all things in itself.
and again sees all things in another. So that all things are evenvhere, arul
all is all. Each thing likewise is everything. And the splendor there is
infinite. For everything there is great, since even that which is small is
great. The sun too which is there is all the stars; and again each star is
the sun and all the stars.. .In each however, a different property predomi-
nates, but at the same time all things are visible in each. Motion likewise
there is pure; for the motion is not confounded by a mover different
from it. Permanency also suffers no change of its nature, because it is not
mingled with the unstable. And the beautiful there is beautiful, because
it does not subsist in beauty (as in .a subject). Each thing too is there

280 TER TIUM ORGANUM
established, not as in a foreign land, but the seat of each thing is that which
each thing is. . . . Nor is the thing itself different from the place in which
it subsists. For the subject of it is intellect, and it is itself intellect . . .
There each part ahvays proceeds from the whole, and is at the same time
each part and the whole. For it appears indeed as a part; but by him
whose sight is acute, it will be seen as a whole. . . . There is likewise no
weariness of the vision which is there, nor any plenitude of perception
which can bring intuition to an end. For neither was there any vacuity,
which when filled might cause the visive energy to cease; nOr is this one
thing, but that another, so as to occasion a part of one thing is not to be
amicable with that of another.
And the knowledge which is possible there is insatiable. . . . For by
seeing itself more abundantly it perceives both itself and the obUects of
its perception to be infinite, it follows its own nature (in unceasing con.
templation). The life there ia wisdom; a wisdom not obtained by a
reasoning process, because the whole of it always was, and is not in any
respect deficient, so as to be in want of investigation. But it is the first
wisdom, and is not derived from another.*

Closely akin to Plotinus is Jacob Boehme, who was a common
shoemaker in the German town of Goerlitz (end of the XVI and the
beginning of the XVII century), and has left a whole series of re-
markable writings in which he describes revelations vouchsafed him
in moments of illumination.
His first "illumination" occurred in 1600 A.D., when he was
twenty-five years old. t

Sitting one day in his room, his eyes fell upon a burnished pewter dish.,
which reflected the sunshine with such 'marvelous splendor that he fell into
an inward ecstasy, and it seemed to him as if he could now look into the
principles and deepest foundations of things. He believed that it was
only a fancy, and in order to banish it from his mind he went out upon
the green. But here he remarked that he gazed into the very heart of
things, the very herbs and grass, and that actual nature harmonized with
what he had inwardly seen. He said nothing of this to anyone, but praised
and thanked God in silence.

Of the first illumination Boehme's biographer says: "He learned
to know the innermost foundation of nature, and acquire the capac-
· Abridged quotation from "Select Worke of Plotinus," transl. by Thomas Taylor.
Uohn's Library, pp. !xxiii and Ixxiiv.
t All the ensuing quotations are from the books of Prof. William James, and of Dr.
n. M. Hucke.

B 0 E H ME'S ILL U M I N A T ION 281
ity to see henceforth with the eyes of the soul into the heart of all
things, a faculty which remained with him even in his normal con-
dition."

About the year 1600, in the twenty-fifth year of his age, he was again
surrounded by the divine light and replenished with the heavenly knowl-
edge; insomuch as going abroad in the fields to a green before Neys Gate,
at Goerlitz, he there sat down and, viewing the herbs and grass of the
field in his inward light, he saw into their essences, use and properties,
which were discovered to him by their lineaments, figures and signatures.
In like manner he beheld the whole creation, and from that foundation
he afterwards wrote his book,
'De Signature Rerum." l.n the unfolding of
those mysteries before his understanding he had a great measure of joy,
yet returned home and took care of his family and lived in great peace and
silence, scarce intimating to any these wonderful things that had befal'len
him, and in the year 1610, being again taken into this light, lest the mys-
teries revealed to him should pass through him as a stream, and rather
for a memorial than intending any publication, he wrote his first book,
called "Aurora, or the Morning Redness."

The first illumination, in 1600, was not complete. Ten years
later (1610) he had another remarkable inward experience. What
he had previously seen only chaotically, fragmentarily, and in isola-
ted glimpses, he now beheld as a coherent whole and in more definite
outlines.

When his third illumination took place, that which in former visions
had appeared to him chaotic and multifarious was now recognized by him
as a unity, like a harp of many strings, of which each string is a separate
ins
rument, while the whole is only one harp. *
He now recognized the divine order of nature, and how from the trunk
of the tree of life spring different branches, bearing manifold leaves and
flowers and fruits, and he became impressed with the necessity of writing
down what he saw and preserved the record.

He himself speaks of this :final and complete illumination as
follows:

The gate was opened to me that in one quarter of an hour I saw and
knew more than if I had been many years at a university, at which I ex-
ceedingly admired and thereupon turned my praise to God for it. For I
saw and knew the being of all beings, the byss and abyss and the eternal
· See quotation from Van Manen's book, Chap. xi. p. 125.

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

generation of the Holy Trinity, the descent and original of the world and
of all creatures through divine wisdom. I knew and saw in myself all
the three worlds, namely, (1) the divine (angelical and paradisical) (2)
and the dark (the original of the nature to the fire) and (3) then the
external and visible world (being a procreation or external birth from
both the internal and spiritual worlds). And I saw and knew the whole
working essence in the evil and the good and the original and the exist.
ence of each of them; and likewise how the fruitful-bearing-womb of
eternity brought forth. So that I did not only greatly wonder at it but
did also exceedingly rejoice.

Describing "illuminations" Boehme writes, in one of his books:

Suddenly . . . my spirit did break through . .. even into the inner-
most birth of Geniture of the Diety, and there I was embraced with love,
as a bridegroom embraces his dearly beloved bride. But the greatness of
the triumphing that was in the spirit I cannot express either in speaking
or writing; neither can it be compared to anything, but that wherein the life
is generated in the midst of death, and it is like the resurrection from the
dead. In this light my spirit suddenly saw through all, and in and by all
creatures, even in herbs and grass, it knew God, who he is, and how he is,
and what his work is; and suddenly in that light my will was set on, by a
mighty impulse, to describe the being of God. But because I could not pres-
ently apprehend the deepest births of God in their being and comprehend
them in my reason, there passed almost twelve years before the exact under-
standing thereof was given me. And it was with me as with a young tree
which is planted on the ground, and at first is young and tender, and flourish.
ing to the eye, especially if it comes on lustily in its growing. But it does
not bear fmit presently; and, though it blossoms, they fall off; also many
a cold wind, frost .and snow, puff upon it, before it comes to any growt.h
and bearing of fruit.

Boehme's books are full of wonderment before these mysteries
with which he was confronted.

I was as simple concerning the hidden mysteries as the meanest of all;
but my vision of the wonders of Goo; taught me, so that I must write of
his wonders; though indeed my purpose is to write this for a memoran-
dum for myself. . . .
Not 1, the 1 that 1 am, know these things: but God knows them in me.
If you will behold your own self and the outer world, and what is
taking place thereon, you will find that you, with regard to your external
being, are that external world.

The Dialogues between Disciple and Master are remarkable (Dis-

DISCIPLE AND MASTER 283
ciple and Master should he understood to refer to the lo
er and the
higher consciousness of man).

The Disciple said to his Master:
How may I come to the supersensual life, that I may see God and hear
him speak?
His Master said:
When thou canst throw thyself but for a moment into that where no
creature dwelleth, then thou hearest what God speaketh.
Disciple-Is that near at hand or far off?
Master-It is in thee. And if thou canst for a while but cease from all
thy thinking and willing, then thou shalt hear the unspeakable words of
God.
Disciple-How can I hear him speak, when
stand still from thinking
and willing?
Master-When thou standest still from the thinking of self, and the
willing of self; "When both thy intellect and will are quiet, and passive
to the impressions of the Eternal Word and Spirit; And when thy soul is
winged up, and above that which is temporal, the outward senses, and
the imagination being locked up by holy abstraction," then the Eternal
hearing, seeing, and speaking, will be revealed in thee; and so God
"heareth and seeth through thee," being now the organ of his spirit; and
so God speaketh in thee, and whispereth to thy spirit, and thy spirit heareth
his voice. Blessed art thou therefore if that thou canst stand still from
self-thinking and self-willing, and canst stop the wheel of imagination and
senses; forasmuch as hereby thou mayest arrive at length to see the great
salvation of God, being made capable of all manner of Divine sensations and
heavenly communications. Since it is naught indeed but thine own hearing
and willing that do wonder thee, so that thou dost not see and hear God.
Disciple-Loving Master, I can no more endure anything should divert
me, how shall I find the nearest way to him?
Master-Where the way is hardest there walk thou, and take up what
the world rejecteth; and what the world doth, that do not thou. Walk
contrary to the world in all things. And then thou comest the nearest way
to him.

Disciple- . .. Oh how may I arrive at the unity of will, and how come
into the unity of vision?
Master- . .. Mark now what 1j say: The Right Eye looketh in thee
into Eternity. The Left Eye looketh backward in thee into time. If now
thou sufferest thyself to be always looking into nature, and the things of
time, it will be impossible for thee ever to arrive at the unity, which thou
wishest for. Remember this; and be upon thy watch. Give not thy mind

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

leave to enter in, nor to fill itself with, that which is without thee; neither
look thou backward upon thyself . . . Let not thy Left Eye deceive thee, by
making continually one representation after another, and stirring up thereby
an earnest longing in the self-propriety; but let thy Right Eye command
back this Left . . . And only bringing the Eye of Time into the Eye of
Eternity . . . and descending through the Light of God into the Light of
Nature . . . shalt thou arrive at the Unity of Vision or Uniformity of
Will.

In another dialogue the Disciple and the Master converse about
heaven and hell.

The Disciple asked his Master:
Whither go the souls when they leave these mortal bodies?
His Master answered:
The soul needeth no going forth anywhere.
Disciple-Does it not enter into heaven or hell?
Master-No, there is no such kind of entering. . . . The soul hath
heaven and hell in itself . . . and whether of the two states-either heaven
or hell-shall be manifested in the soul, in that it standeth.

The quotations given here are sufficient to indicate the character
of the writings of an unlearned shoemaker from a little provincial
town in Germany of the XVI-XVII centuries. Boehme is remark-
able for the bright intellectuality of his comprehensions, although
there is in them a strong moral element also.

In the book above mentioned (The Varieties of Religious Ex-
perience) Prof. James dwells with great attention on Christian
Mysticism, which afforded him much material for establishing the
fact of the cognitive aspect of mysticism.
I borrow from him the following description of the mystical ex-
periences of certain Christian saints.
St. Ignatius confessed one day to Father Laynez that a single hour of
meditation at Manfesa had taught him more truths about heavenly things
than all the teachings of all the doctors put together could have taught
him. . . . One day in orison, on the steps of the choir of the Dominican
Church, he saw in a distinct manner the plan of divine wisdom in the
creation of the world. On another occasion, during a procession. his spirit

CHRISTIAN MYSTICISM

285

was ravished on God, and it was given him to contemplate, in a form.
and images fitted to the weak understanding of a dweller on earth, the
deep mystery of the holy Trinity. This last vision flooded his heart with
such sweetness, that mere memory of it in after times made him shed
abundant tears.

C'One day, being in orison," Saint Teresa writes, "it was granted me to
perceive in one instant how all things are seen and contained in God.
I did not perceive them in their proper form, and nevertheless the view
I had of them was of a sovereign clearness and has remained vividly im-
pressed upon my soul. It is one of the most signal of all the graces
which the Lord has granted me. . . . The view was so subtle and deli-
cate that the understanding cannot grasp it."
She goes on to tell [Prof. James writes] how it was as if the Deity was
an enormous and sovereignly limpid diamond, in which all our actions
were contained in such a way that their full sinfulness appeared evident
8S never before.
c'O ur Lord made me comprehend," she writes, "in what way it is that
one God can be in three Persons. He made me see it 80 clearly that I
remained as extremely surprised as
was comforted. . . and now, when
I think of the holy Trinity, or hear it spoken of, I understand how the
three adorable Persons form only one God and I experienced an unspeak-
able happiness."

Christian mysticism, as Prof. James shows, is very near to the
Vedanta and the Upanishads. That fountain-heaa of Christian mys-
ticism, Dionysius the Areopagite, tells about the absolute truth in
negative formulre only.

C'The cause of all things is neither soul nor intellect; nor has it imagina-
tion, opinion, or reason, or intelligence; nor is it reason or intelligence;
nor is it spoken or thought. It is neither number, nor order, nor magni-
tude, nor littleness, nor equality, nor inequality, nor similarity, nor dis-
similarity. It neither stands, nor moves, nor rests. . . . It is neither
essence, nor eternity, nor time. Even intellctual contact does not belong
to it. :lit is neither science nor truth. It is not even royalty or wisdom;
not one; not unity; not divinity or goodness nor even spirit as we know it."

The writings of the mystics of the Greek Orthodox Church are
collected in the books The Love of the Good, comprising five
large and formidable volumes. I selected several examples of pro-

286

TERTIUM ORGANUM

found and fine mysticism from the book, SupercQnsciousness and
the Paths to its Attainment, by M. V. Lodizhensky (In Russian),
who studied these hooks and found therein remarkable examples of
philosophical thought.

Imagine a circle, says Avva Dorotheus (VII century), and in the middle
of it a centre; and from this centre forthgoing radii-rays. The farther
these radii go from the centre, the more divergent and remote from one
another they become; conversely, the nearer they approach to the centre,
the more they come together among themselves. Now sUppose that this
circle is the world: the very middle of it, God; and the straight lines (radii)
going from the centre to the circumference, or from the circumference to
the centre, are the paths of life of men. And in this case also, to the
extent that the saints approach the middle of the circle, desiring to ap-
proach God, do they, by so doing, come nearer to God and to one another.
. . . Reason simil'arly with regard to their withdrawing from God. . . they
withdraw also from one another, and by so much as they withdraw from
one another do they withdraw from God. Such is the attribute of love:
to the extent that we are distant from God and do not love Him, each of
us is far from his neighbor also. If we love God, then to the extent that
we approach to Him through love of Him, do we unite in love with our
neighbors; and the closer our union with them, the closer is our union with
God also. *

(Superoonsciousness, p. 266)

Hear now, says St. Isaac of Syria (VI century), how man becomes
refined, acquires spirituality, and becomes like the invisible forces. . . .
When the vision soars above things earthly, and above all troubles over
earthly doings, and begins to experience revelations concerning that which
is within, hidden from sight, and when it will turn its gaze upward, and
experiences faith in the guidance of future ages, and the ardent desire
for promised things, when it will search for hidden mysteries, then faith
itself consumes this knowledge and so transforms and regenerates it that
it becomes entirely spiritual. Then may the vision soar on pinions into
regions incorporeal, may touch the depths of an inaccessible sea, partici.
· The author of "SuperconsciOltsness," M. V. Lodizhensky, told me that in the Bummer
of 1910 he was in "Vasnaya PoIiana," the residence of L. Tolstoy, and he conversed with
him about the mystics and "The Love of the Good." Tolstoy was at first very ekeptical
about them, but when Mr. Lodizhensky read to him the quotation, given here, about the
circle, Tolstoy became very enthusiastic, and ran into another room and got a letter in
which a triangle was drawn. It appeared that he had independently almost grasped the
thought of Avva Dorotheus, and had written to some one that God was the apex of a trio
angle: men the points within the angles; approaching to one another they approach to
God, approaching God, they do the same toward one another. Several days afterward
Tolstoy rode over to Mr. Lodizhensky's, near Tula, and read d,ifferent parts of "The Love

TESTIMONY OF THE MYSTICS 287
pating in the mind Divine, and the miraculous acts of guidance in the hearts
of thinking and feeling beings, discovering spiritual mysteries which be-
come then comprehensible by the refined and simple mind. Then the
inner senses are awakened to spirituality after the manner that they will
be in the life immortal and incorruptible, for even here this redemption
of the mind is a true symbol of the general redemption.
(Superconsciousness, p. 370)
When the grace of the Holy Spirit, says Maxim Kapsokalivit, descends
on anyone, there is shown to him nOl:hing of the sensuous world, but
that which he never saw or never imagined. Then the understanding of
such a man receives from the Holy Spirit the highest and hidden mysteries
which according to the divine Paul, neither the human eye can under-
stand nor the human reason comprehend unaided. (I, Corinthians ii, 9).
And' that thou mayest understand how our reason sees them, try to appre-
hend that which I shall say to thee. Wax, when it is placed far from
fire, is solid, and it is possible to take it and hold it, but as soon as it
is thrown in fire it immediately melts, takes fire, burns, blazes and ends thus
in the midst of flames. So also is human reason when it is alone by itself,
un united with God; then it comprehends in the usual way and according
to its power all things surrounding it; but as it approaches the fire of
Divinity and of the Holy Ghost, then is it entirely enveloped by that
Divine fire, and immersed in Divine meditation, and then in that fire of
Divinity it is impossible for it to think about its own affairs and about
that which it desires.

(Superconsciousness. p. 370)
St. Basil the Great says about the revelation of God: Absolutely un-
utterable and indescribable are the lightning-like splendors of Divine
beauty; neither can speech express nor hearing apprehend. Shall we name
the brilliance of the morning star, the brightness of the moon, the radiance
of the sun-the glory of all these is unworthy of being compared with the
true light, standing farther from it than does the gloomiest night and the
most terrible darkness from midday brightness. This beauty, invisible to
bodily eyes, comprehensible to soul and mind only, if it illumines some of
the saints leaves in them an unbearable wound through their desire that
this vision of Divine beauty shobld extend over an eternity of life; disturbed
hy this earthly life, they loathe it as thought it were a prison.
(Superconsciousness, p. 372)

St. Theognis says: A strange word wilI I say to thee. There is some
hidden mystery which proceeds between God and the soul. This is ex-
perienced by those who achieve the highest heights of perfect purity of
of the Good," much regretting that he had not known the books before.-P. D. Ous-
pensky.

288

TERTIUM ORGANUM

love and faith, when man, changing completely unites with God, as His own,
through ceaseless prayer and contemplation.

(SuperconciOU6neS6, p. 381)

Certain parts of the writings of Clement of Alexandria (second
century) are remarkably interesting.

It appears to us that painting appears to take in the whole field of view
in the scenes represented. But it gives a false description of the view,
according to the rules of the art, employing the signs that result from the
incidents of the lines of vision. By this means, the higher and the lower
points in the view, and those between, are preserved; and some objects
seem to appear in the foreground, and others in the background, and others
to appear in some other way, on the smooth and level surface. So also
philosophers copy the truth, after the manner of painting. *

Clement of Alexandria here reveals one very important aspect
of truth, namely, its inexpressibility in words and the entire con-
ditionality of all philosophical systems and formulations. Dia-
lectically truth is represented only in perspective--i. e., in an in-
evitably deformed shape-such is his idea.
What time and labor would be saved, and from what enormous
and unnecessary suffering would humanity save itself, could it but
understand this one simple thing: that truth COJll,not be expressed in
our language. Then would men cease to think that they possessed
truth, would cease to force others to accept their truth at any cost,
would see that others may approach truth from another direction,
exactly as they themselves approach it, by a way of their own. How
many arguments, how many religious struggles, how much of vio-
lence toward the thoughts of others would b
rendered unnecessary
and impossible if men would only understand that nobody possesses
truth, but all are seeking for it, each in his own way.
The ideas of Clement of Alexandria about God are highly inter-
esting, and closely approximate to those of the Vedanta, and partic-
ularly to the ideas of the Chinese philosophers.

The discourse respecting God is the most difficult to handle. For since
the first principle of everything is difficult to find out, the absolutely first
and the oldest principle, which is the cause of all other things being and
· "The Ante-Nicene Fathers." Buffalo. The Christian Literature Pub. Co., 1885. Vol.
II, pp. 463, 464.

CHINESE MYSTICISM

289

having been, is difficult to exhibit. For how can that be expressed which
is neither genus, nor difference, nor species, nor individual, nor number;
nay more, is neither an event, nor that to which an event happens? No
one can rightly express this wholly. For on account of his greatness
he is ranked as the All and is the Father of the universe. Nor are any
parts to be predicated of them. For the one is indivisible, wherefore also
it is infinite, not considered with reference to its being without dimensions,
and not having a limit. And therefore it is without form and name. And
if we name it, we do not do so properly, terming it either the one, or the
good, or mind, or Absolute Being, or Father, or God, or Creator, or Lord.
We speak not as supplying His name; but for want, we use good names,
in order that the mind may have these as points of support, so as not to err
in other respects..

Among Chinese mystical philosophers our attention is arrested
by Lao-Tzu (VI cent. B. C.), and Chuang-Tzu (IV cent. B. C.) by
the cleanliness of thought and the unusual simplicity with which they
express the most profound doctrines of idealism.
The Sayings of Lao-TZU
The Tao, which can be expressed in words is not the eternal Tao; the
name which can be uttered is not its eternal name. t
Tao eludes the sense of sight, and is therefore called colorless. It
eludes the sense of hearing, and is therefore called soundless. It eludes
the sense of touch, and is therefore called incorporeal. These three qual-
ities cannot be apprehended, and hence they may be blended into unity.
Ceaseless in action, it cannot be named, but returns again to nothing-
ness. We may call it the form of the formless, the image of the image-
less, the fleeting and the indeterminable.
There is something chaotic, yet complete, which existed before heaven
and earth. Oh, how still it is, and formless, standing 1l10ne without chang-
ing, reaching everywhere, without suffering harm!
Its name I know not. To desi
ate it I call it Tao. Endeavoring to
describe it, I call it Great.
Being Great, it passes on; passing on, it becomes remote; having become
remote it returns.
The law of Tao is its own spontaneity.
Tao in its unchanging aspect has no name.
The mightiest manifestations of active force flow from Tao.
· Ibid. p. 493.
t Abridged quotation from "The saying of Lao Tzu." Wisdom of th-, East Series.

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

Tao as it exists in the world is like great rivers and seas which receive
the streams from the valleys.
All-pervading is the Great Tao. It can be at once on the right hand
and on the left.
Tao is a great square with no angles, a great sound which cannot be
heard, a great image with no form.
Tao produced Unity; Unity produced Duality; Duality produced Trinity;
and Trinity produced all existing objects.
He who acts in accordance with Tao, becomes one with Tao.
All the world says that my Tao is great, but unlike other teachings. It
is just because it is great that it appears unlike other teachings. If it had
this likeness, long ago would its smallness have been known.
The sage attends to the inner and not to the outer; he puts away the
objective and holds to the subjective.
The sage occupies himself with inaction, and conveys instructions with-
out words.
Who is there that can make muddy water clear? But if allowed to
remain still it will gradually become clear of itself. Who is there that
can secure a state of absolute repose? But let time go on, and the state
of repose will gradually arise.
Tao is eternally inactive, and yet it leaves nothing undone.
The pursuit of book-learning brings about daily increase (i. e., the
increase of knowledge). The practice of Tao brings about daily loss
(i. e., the loss of ignorance). Repeat the loss again and again, and you
arrive at inaction. Practice inaction, and' there is nothing which cannot
be done.
Practice inaction, occupy yourself with doing nothing.
Leave all things to take their natural course, and do not interfere.
All things in Nature work silently.
Among mankind, the recognition of beauty as such implies the idea of
ugliness, and the recognition of good implies the idea of evil.
Cast off your holiness, rid yourself of sagacity, and the people will
benefit a hundredfold.
Those who know do not speak; those who speak do not know.
He who acts, destroys; he who grasps, loses. Therefore the sage does
not act, and so he does not destroy; he does not grasp, and so he does
not lose.
The soft overcomes the hard; the weak overcomes the strong. There
is no one in the world but knows this truth, and no one who can put it
into practice.

A Meditation of Chuang-Tzu
You cannot speak of ocean to a well-frog-the creature of a narrower
sphere. You cannot speak of ice to a summer insect-the creature of a
season. You cannot speak of Tao to a pedagogue, his scope is too re-
.stricted.

" THE V 0 ICE 0 F THE S I LEN C E " 291
But now that you have emerged from your narrow sphere and have
seen the great ocean, you know your own significance, and I can speak to
you of great principles. . . .
Dimensions are limitless; time is endless. Conditions are not invariable;
terms are not final.
There is nothing which is not objective; there is nothing which is not
subjective. But it is impossible to start from the objective. Only from
subjective knowledge is it possible to proceed to objective knowledge.
When subjective and obJective are both without their correlates, that is the
very axis of Tao.
Tao has its laws and its evidences. It is devoid both of action and of form.
It may be obtained but cannot be seen.
Spiritual beings draw their spirituality from Tao.
To Tao no point in time is long ago.
Tao cannot be existent. If it were existent, it could not be non-existent.
The very name of Tao is only adapted for convenience' sake. Predesti-
nation and chance are limited to material existences. How can they bear
upon the infinite?
Tao is something beyond material existences. It cannot be conveyed
either by words or by silence. ht that state which is neither speech nor
silence, its transcendental nature may be apprehended. *

In contemporary Theosophical literature, two little books stand
out: The Voice of the Silence by H. P. Blavatsky, and Light on the
Path by Mabel Collins. In both of them there is much of real mys-
tical sentiment.

The Voice of the Silence
He who would hear the voice of the silence, the soundless sound, and com-
prehend it, he has to learn the nature of the perfect inward concentration
of the "mind, accompanied by complete abstraction from everything per-
taining to the external Universe, or the world of senses.
Having become indifferent to objects of perception, the pupil must seek
out the Rajah of the senses, the Thought-Producer, him who awakes illusions.
The mind is the great slayer of the real.
Let the Disciple slay the Slayer.
For-
When to himself his form appears unreal, as do on waking all the
forms he sees in dreams;
When he ceases to hear the many, he may discern the ONE-the inner
sound which kills the outer.
· Musings of a Chinese Mystic." Wiedom of the East Series.

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TERTIUM ORGANUM

Then only, not till then, shall he forsake the region of ASAT, the false,
to come into the realm of SAT, the true.
Before the soul can see, the harmony within must be attained, and fleshly
eyes be rendered blind to illusion.
Before the soul can hear, the image (man) has to become as deaf to
warnings as to whispers, to cries of bellowing elephants as to the silvery
buzzing of the golden firefly.

And then to the inner ear will speak-

THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE

And say:
-If thy Soul smiles while bathing in the sunlight of thy life; if thy
soul sings within her chrysalis of flesh and matter; if thy soul weeps inside
her castle of illusion; if thy soul struggles to break the silver thread that
binds her to the MASTER, know, 0 Disciple, .thy soul is of the earth.

Give up thy life, if thou wo1ildst live.
Learn to discern the real from the false, the ever-fleeting from the ever-
lasting. Learn above all to separate head-learning from soul-wisdom, the
"Eye" from the "Heart" doctrine.

Light on the Path, like The Voice of the Silence is full of symbols,
hints and hidden meanings. This is a little book which makes de-
mands upon the reader. Its meaning is elusive, and it requires to
be read in a fitting state of spirit. Light on the Path prepares the
"disciple" to meet the "Master," i. e., the ordinary consciousness for
communion with the higher consciousness. According to the author
of Light on the Path, the term "THE MASTERS" is a symbolical
expression for the "Divine Life." *

Light on the Path
Before the eyes can see they must be incapable of tears. Before the ear
can hear it must have lost its sensitiveness. Before the voice can speak
in the presence of the Masters it must have lost the power to wound.
Before the soul can stand in the presence of the Masters its feet must be
washed in the blood of the heart.

Kill out all sense of separateness.
Desire only that which is within you.
Desire only that which is beyond you.
Desire only that which is unattainable.
· "Light on the Path,.. p. 92. London, Theosophical Pub. Co.

"LIGHT ON THE PATH"

293

For within you is the light of the world. . . . If you are unable to
perceive it within you, it is useless to look for it elsewhere. . . . it is
unattainable, because it forever recedes. You will enter ..he light, but you
will never touch the Flame. . . .
Seek out the way.
Look for the flower to bloom in the silence that follows the storm: not
till then. . . .
And on the deep silence the mysterious event will occur which will prove
that the way has been found. Call it by what name you will, it speaks
in a voice that speaks where there is none to speak-it is a messenger that
comes, a messenger without form or substance; or it is the flower of the
soul that has opened. It cannot be described by any metaphor.

To hear the voice of the silence is to understand that from within
comes the only true guidance. . . . For when the disciple is ready, the
Master is ready also.
Hold fast to that which is neither substance nor existence.
Listen only to the voice which is soundless.
Look only on that which is invisible.

Prof. James calls attention in his book to the unusually vivid emo-
tionality of mystic experiences, and to the quite unusual sensations
felt by mystics.
The deliciousness of some of these states seems to be beyond any-
thing known in ordinary consciousness. It evidently involves organic
sensibilities, for it is spoken of as something too extreme to be borne,
and as verging on bodily pain. But it is too subtle and piercing a
delight for ordinary words to denote. God's touches, the wounds
of his spear, references to ebriety and to mystical union have to
figure in the phraseology by which it is shadowed forth.
The joy of communion with God, described by St Simeon the
New Theologian * (X century) may serve as an example of such an
experience.

I am wounded by the arrow of His love (writes St. Simeon). He is
Himself inside of me, in my heart; he embraces me, kisses me, fins me
with light. . . . A new flower grows in me, new because it is joyous. . . .
This flower is of an unutterable form, is seen when it grows merely, then
suddenly disappears. . . it is of indescribable appearance; attracts my
mind to itself, causes forgetfulness of everything to do with fear, and then
.Paul AnikielI. "Mysticism of St. Simeon the New Theologian." St. Petersburg, 1906.

294

TERTIUM ORGANUM

flies suddenly away. Then does the tree of fear remain again lacking
fruit; I moan in sorrow and pray to thee, my Christ; again I see the
flower amid the branches, " chain my attention to it alone, and see not
the tree alone, but the brilliant flower attracting me to itself irresistibly;
this flower grows in the end into the fruit of love. . . . Incomprehensible
is it how from fear grows love.

Mysticism penetrates into all religions.

In India, [Prof. James says] training in mystical insight has been
known from time immemorial under the name of yoga. Yoga means the
experimental union of the individual with the divine. It is based on per-
severing exercise; and the diet, posture, breathing, intellectual concen-
tration, and moral discipline vary slightly in the different systems which
teach it. The yogi, or disciple, who has by these means overcome the ob-
scurations of his lower nature sufficiently, enters into the condition termed
samadhi, "and he comes face to face with facts which no instinct or reason
can ever know."
. . . When a man comes out of samadhi Vedantists assure us that
he remains '''enlightened, a sage, a prophet, a saint, his whole character
changed, his life changed, illumined."
The Buddhists use the word samadhi as well as the Hindus; but dlvyana
is their special word for the higher states of contemplation.
Higher stages still of contemplation are mentioned-a region where
there exists nothing, and where the meditator says: "There exists absolutely
nothing," and stops. Then he reaches another region, he says: "There are
neither ideas nor absence of ideas," and stops again. Then another region
where, "having reached the end of both idea and perception, he stops
finally." This would seem to be, not yet Nirvana, but as close an approach
to it as this life affords. *

In Mohammedanism there is much of mysticism also. The most
characteristic expression of Moslem mysticism is Persian Sufism.
This is at the same time a religious sect and a philosophical school
of high idealistic charader, which struggled against materialism
and against the narrow fanaticism and the literal understanding
of the Koran. The Sufis interpreted the Koran mystically. Sufism
-this is the philosophical free-thinking of Mohammedanism, united
· Prof. W. James. "The Varieties of Religious Experience:' pp. 400,401.

PERSIAN MYSTICS 295
with an entirely original symbolical and brightly sensuous poetry
which has always a hidden mystical character. The blossoming
of Sufism occurred in the early centuries of the second millennium
of the Christian era.
Sufism remained for a long time incomprehensible to European
thought. From the point of view of Christian theology and Chris-
tian morality the mixing up of sensuousness and religious ecstacy
is incomprehensible, hut in the Orient the two coexisted with perfect
harmony. In the Christian world "the flesh" has always been re-
garded as inimical to "the spirit." In the Moslem world the fleshly
and sensuous was accepted as a symbol of spiritual things. The ex-
pression of philosophical and religious truths "in the language of
love" was a widely disseminated custom throughout the Orient.
These things are "Oriental flowers of eloquence." All allegories,
all metaphors were taken from "love." "Mohammed fell in love
with God," the Arabs say, desiring to convey the hrightness of the
religious ardor of Mohammed. C'Select for thyself a new wife
evety spring of the new year, because last year's calendar is no
good" -says the Persian poet and philosopher Sd die And in such
curious form Sd di expresses the thought that Ibsen puts in the mouth
of Dr. Stockman: "Trmhs are not as many believe like long-living
Methuselahs. Under normal conditions a trmh may exist about
seventeen or eighteen years, rarely longer."
The poetry of the Sufis will become clearer to us if we always
keep in mind this general sensuous character of the literary language
of the Orient, the heritage of profound antiquity. A classic ex-
ample of this ancient literature is the Song of Songs.
Many parts of the Bible and all ancient myths and stories are
distinguished by a sensuousness of form strange to us.
"The Persian mystical poetical Sufis wrote about the love of
God in expressions applicable to their beautiful women," says the
translator of /ami and other poets, Davis-"because, as they ex-
plained this, nobody can write in heavenly language and he under-
stood." (Persian Mystics.)
"The idea of Sufism," Max Miiller says, "is a loving union of
the soul with God." "The Sufi holds that there is nothing in human
language that can express the love between the soul and God so
well as the love between man and woman and that if he is to
speak of the union between the two at all, he can only do so in the

296 TERTIUM ORGANUM
symbolic language of earthly love." When we read some of the
Sufi enraptured poetry, we must remember that the Sufi poets use
a number of expressions which have a recognired meaning in
their language. Their sleep means meditation; perfume-hope
of divine favor; kisses and embraces-the raptures of piety; wine
means spirituaJ knowledge, etc.

The flowers which a lover of God had gathered in his rose-garden, and
which he wished to give to his friends, so overpowered his mind by their
fragrance that they fell out of his lap and withered, Sa'di says. A poet
desires to express by this, that the glory of ecstatic visions pales and fades
away when it has to be put into human language.-(Max Miiller-Theos.
ophy.)

Generally speaking, never and nowhere has poetry been so
blended with mysticism as in Sufism. The Sufi poets frequently
lived the strange lives of hermits, anchorites and wanderers, at
the same time singing of love, the beauty of women, the aroma
of roses and wine.
lelal eddin describes as follows the communion of the soul with
God:

A loved one said to her lover to try him early one morning: "0 such
a one, son of such a one, I marvel whether you hold me more dear, or
yourself; t811 me truly, 0 ardent lover!" He answered: "I am so en-
tirely absorbed in you, that " am full of you from head to foot. Of my
own existence nothing but the man remains, in my being is nothing beside
you, 0 object of my desire. Therefore 1 am thus lost in you. As a stone
which has been changed into a pure ruby, is filled with the bright light of
the sun."-(Max Miiller.)

In two well.known poems of I ami (XV century), Salaman and
Abasl and Yusuf and Zulaikha, the "ascending of the soul," its
purification and its union with God, is represented in the most
passionate forms.

Prof. James pays great attention in his book to mystical states
under narcosis.
"This is a realm that public opinion and ethical philosophy have

THE ANAESTHETIC REVELATION 297
long since branded as pathological, though private practice and
certain lyric strains of poetry seem still to bear witness of its
ideality.
"Nitrous oxide and ether, especially nitrous oxide, when suffi.
ciently c;J.iIuted with air, stimulates the mystical consciousness in
an extraordinary degree. Depth beyond depth of truth seems re-
vealed to the inhaler. This truth fades out, however, or escapes,
at the moment of coming to; and if any words remain over in which
it seemed to clothe itself, they prove to be the veriest nonsense.
Nevertheless, the sense of a profound meaning having been there
persists; and I know more than one person who is persuaded that
in the nitrous oxide trance we have a genuine metaphysical reve-
lation.
"Some years ago I myself made some observations on this
aspect of nitrous oxide intoxication, and reported them in print.
One conclusion was forced upon my mind at that time, and my
impression of its truth has ever since remained unshaken. It is
that our normal wnking consciousness, rational consciousness as
we call it, is but one special type of conciousness, whilst aU about
it, parted from it by the filmiest of screens, there are potential
forms of consciousness entirely different. We may go through
life without suspecting their existence, but apply the requisite
stimulus and at a touch they are there in all their completeness,
definite types of mentality which probably somewhere have their
field of application and adaptation. No account of the universe
in its totality can be final which leaves these other forms of con-
sciousness quite disregarded. At any rate, they forbid a pre-
mature closing of our accounts with reality.
"The whole drift of my education goes to persuade me that the
world of our present consciousness is only one out of many worlds
of consciousness that exist, and that those other worlds must con-
tain experiences which have a meaning for our life also.
"Looking back on my experiences, they all converge toward
a kind of insight to which I cannot help ascribing some meta-
physical significance. The keynote of it is invariably a recon-
ciliation. It is as if the opposites of the world, whose contradic-
tions and conflict make all our difficulties and troubles, were
melted into unity. Not only do they, as contrasted species, be-
long to one and the same genus, but one of the species-the nobler

298 TERTIUM ORGANUM
and the better one-is itself the genus, so soaks u.p and absorbs its
opposite into itself. This is a dark saying, I know, when thus ex-
pressed in terms of common logic, but I cannot wholly escape
from its authority. I feel as if it must mean something, something
like what the Hegelian philosophy means, if one could only lay
hold of it more clearly. Those who have ears to hear let them
hear; to me the loving sense of its reality only comes in the artificial
mystic state of mind.
"What reader of Hegel can doubt that sense of a perfected
being with all its otherness soaked up in itself, which dominates
his whole philosophy, must have come from the prominence in his
consciousness of mystical moods like this, in most persons kept
subliminal? The notion is thoroughly characteristic of the mys-
tical level, and the Aufgahe (the problem) of making it articulate
was surely set to Hegel's intellect by mystical feeling.
"I have friends who believe in the anresthetic revelation. For
them too it is a monistic insight, in which the other in its various
forms appears absorbed into the One.*

"Into this pervading genus," writes one of them, "'we pass, forgetting
and forgotten, and thenceforth each is all, in God. There is no higher,
no deeper, no other, than the life in which we are founded. The one
remains, the many change and pass; and each and everyone of us is the
One that remains. . . . This is the ultimatum. . . . As sure as being-
whence is all our care--so sure is content, beyond duplexity, antithesis, or
troubl'e, where I have triumphed in a solitude that God is not above."-
(B. P. Blood: The Anresthetic Revelation and the Gist of Philosophy,
Amsterdam, N. Y., 1874.)
Xenos Clark, a philosopher who died young (at Amherst in the '80's)
was also impressed by the revelation.
"In the first place," he once wrote to me, "Mr. Blood and I agree that
the revelation is, if anything, non.emotional. lit is, as Mr. Blood says,
the one sole and sufficient insight why or not why, but how, the present
is pushed on by the past, and sucked forward by the vacuity of the
future. . . . It is an initiation of the past. The real secret would be the
formulre by which the 'now' keeps exfoliating out of itself, yet never
escapes. We simply fill the hole with the dirt we dug out. Ordinary philos-
ophy is like a hound hunting its own tail. The more he hunts the farther
he has to go, and his nose never catches up with his neels, because it is for-
ever ahead of them. So the present is already a foregone conclusion,
· Prof. William Jame&, "The Varieties of Religous Experience." Lectures XVI and
XVII. Mysticism.

THE OPEN StCRET OF "BEING t , 299
and I am ever too late to understand it. But at the moment of reoovery
from anresthesis, then, before starting on life, I catch, so to speak, a
glimpse of my heels, a glimpse of the eternal process just in the act of start-
ing. The truth is that we travel on a journey that was accomplished before
we set out; and the real end of philosophy is accomplished, not when we
arrive at, but when we remain in, our destination lbeing already there)-
which may occur vicariously in this life when we cease our intellectual
questioning. That is why there is a smile upon the face of revelation, as we
view it. It tells us that we 'are forever half a second too late-that's all.
''Y ou could kiss your own lips, and have all the fun to yourself," it says,
4'if you only knew the trick. It would be perfectly easy if they would
just stay there till you got around to them. Why don't you manage it
somehow?':;
In his latest phamphlet Mr. Blood describes the value of the anresthetic
revelation for life as follows:
"The Anresthetic Revelation is the initiation of man into the mystery
of the open secret of Being, revealed as the inevitable vortex of con-
tinuity. Inevitable is the word. Its motive is inherent-it is what has
to be. It is not for any love or hate, nor for joy or sorrow, nor good
nor ill. End, beginning, or purpose, it knows not of.
"It affords no particular of the multiplicity and variety of things;
but it fills the appreciation of the historical and the sacred with a secular
and intimately personal illumination of the nature and motive of exist-
ence. . . .
"Although it is at first startling in its solemnity, it becomes directly
such a matter of course-so old-fashioned, and so akin to proverbs, that
it inspires exultation rather than fear, and the sense of safety, as identified
with the aboriginal and the universal. But no words may express the
surpassing certainty of the patient that he is realizing the primordial
Adamic surprise of life.
"Repetition of the experience finds it ever the same, and as if it could
not possibly be otherwise. The subject resumes his normal consciousness
only to partially and fitfully remember its occurrence, and to try to
formulate its bafHing import-with this consolatory after-thought: that
he has known the oldest truth, and that he has done with human theories
as to the origin, meaning, or destiny of the race. He is beyond instruction
in 'spiritual things.'
"The lesson is one of central safety; the kingdom is within. All days
are judgment days: but there can be no climacteric purpose of eternity,
nor any scheme of the whole. The astronomer abridges the row of be-
wildering figures by increasing his unit of measurement: so may we reduce
the distracting multiplicity of things to the unity for which each of us
stands.
"This has been my moral sustenance since I have known of it. l;n my
first printed mention of it I declared: The world is no more the alien

300

TERTIUM ORGANUM

terror that was taught me. Spurning the cloud-grimed and still sultry
battlements whence so lately Jehovan thunders boomed, my gray gull lifts
her wings against the nightfall, and takes the dim leagues with a fearless
eye. And now, after twenty-seven years of th.is experience, the wing is
grayer, but the eye is fearless still, while I renew and doubly emphasize
that declaration. I know-as having known-the meaning of existence:
the sane center of the universe--at once the wonder and the aSSUrance of
the soul-for which the speech of reason has as yet no name but the
Anresthetic Revelati ons."

1 subjoin, Prof. James says, another interesting anresthetic
revelation. This is what the subject, a gifted woman, writes about
her experience, when she was taking ether for a surgical operation.

"I wondered if I was in a prison being tortured, and why I remembered,
having heard it said that people 'learn through suffering,' and in view of
what I was seeing, the inadequacy of this saying struck me so much that
I said, aloud, 'to suffer is to learn.' With that I became unconscious again,
and my last dream immediately preceded my real coming to. It only
lasted a few seconds and was most vivid and real to me, though it may
not be clear in words.
"A great Being or Power was traveling through the sky, his foot was
on a kind of lightning as a wheel is on a rail, it was his pathway. The
lightning was made of innumerable spirits close to one another, and I
was one of them. He moved in a straight line, and each part of the streak
or flash came into its short conscious existence only that he might travel.
I seemed to be directly under the foot of God, and I thought he was grind.
ing his own life up out of my pain. Then I saw that .what he had been
trying with all his might to do was to change his course, to bend the lint!
of lightning to which he was tied, in the direction in which he wanted to
go. 1 felt my flexibility and helplessness, and I knew that he would
succeed. He bended me, turning his corner by means of my hurt, hl;1rting
me more than I had ever been hurt in my life, and at the acutest point of
this, as he passed, I, SAW.
"I understood for a moment things that I have now forgotten, things
that no one could remember while retaining sanity. The angle was an
obtuse angle, and 1 remember thinking as I woke that had he made it a
right or acute angle, I should have both suffered and 'seen' still more, and
should probably have died.
"He went on and I came to. 111 that moment the whole of my life
passed before me, including each little meaningless piece of distress, and
I understood them. This is what it had all meant, this was the piece of
work it had all been contributing to do. .
"I did not see God's purpose. I only saw his intentness and his entire
relentlessness toward his means. He thought no more of me than a man

EPILEPTIC STATES

301

thinks of hurting a cartridge when he is firing. And yet, on waking, my
first feeling was, and it came with tears, 'Domine non sum digna,' for I
had been lifted intI:) a position for which I was too small.
realized
that in that half hour under ether I had served God more distinctly and
purely than I had ever done in my life before, or than
am capable of
desiring to do. I was the means of his achieving and revealing something,
I know not what or to whom, and tbat to the exact extent of my capacity
for suffering.
"While regaining consciousness {I wondered why, since I had gone so
deep, I had seen nothing of what saints call the love of God, nothing but
his relentlessness. And then I heard an all3Wer, which I could only just
catch, saying, 'Knowledge and Love are One, and the measure is suffer-
ing'-I give the words as they came to me. With that I came finally to
into what seemed a dream world compared with the reality of what l was
leaving. . . ."

I. S. Symonds, whom Prof. James mentions, tells of an interesting
mystical experience with chloroform:

a'After the choking and stifling had passed away, I seemed at first in
a state of utter blankness, then came flashes of intense light, alternating
with blackness, and with a keen vision of what was going on in the room
around me, but no sensation of touch. I thought that I was near death;
when suddenly, my soul became aware of God, who was manifestly dealing
with me, handling me, so to speak, in an intense personal present reality.
I felt him streaming in like light upon me. I cannot describe the ecstacy
I felt. Then as I gradually awoke from the influence of the anresthetic,
the old sense of my relation to the world began to return, and the new
sense of my relation to God began to fade. I suddenly leapt to my
feet on the chair where I was sitting, and shrieked out, 'It is too horrible, it
is too horrible, it is too horrible,' meaning that I could not bear this dis-
illusionment. At last I awoke . . . calling to the two surgeons (who were
frightened) 'why did you not kill me? Why would you not let me die?"

Anresthetic states are very similar to those strange moments
experienced by epileptics during their 6.ts of illness. An artistic
description of epileptic states we find in Dostoyevsky's, The Idiot.

He remembered among other things that he always had one minute just
before the epileptic fit (if it came on while he was awake) when suddenly
in the midst of sadness, spiritual darkness and oppression, tbere seemed
at moments a flash of light on his brain and with extraordinary impl'!l:US
all his vital forces suddenly began working at their highest tension. The
sense of life, the consciousness of self, were multiplied ten times at these

302

TERTIUM ORGANUM

moments which passed like a flash of lightning. His mind and his heart
were flooded with extraordinary light; all hie uneasiness, all his doubts,
all his anxieties were relieved at once; they were all merged in a lofty
calm, full of serene, harmonious joy and hope.
Thinking of that moment later, when he was all right again, he often
said to himself that all these gleams and flashes of the highest sensation
of life and self-consciousness, and therefore also of the highest form of
existence, were nothing but disease, the interruption of the normal con.
dition. . . . And yet he came at last to an extremely paradoxical. con.
clusion. What if it is disease? he decided, if the result, if the minute of
sensation, remembered and analyzed afterwards in health, turns out to be
the acme of harmony and beauty, and gives a feeling, unknown and un-
divined till then, of completeness, of proportion, of reconciliation, and of
ecstatic devotional merging in the highest synthesis of life?
These vague expressions seemed to him very comprehensible, though too
weak. That it was "beauty and worship," that it really was the "highest
synthesis of life" he could not doubt, and could not admit the possibility
of doubt. . . . He was quite capable of judging of that when the attack
was over. These moments were only an extraordinary quickening of self.
consciousness-if the condition was to be expressed in one word-and
at the same time of the direct sensation of existence in the most intense
degree. Since at that second, that is at the very last conscious moment
before the fit, he had time to say to himself clearly and consciously, "Yet
for this moment one might give ones whole life!" then without doubt
that moment was really worth the whole of life. .. . For the very thing
had happened; he actually had said to himself at that second, that, for
the infinite happiness he had felt in it, that second really might well be
worth the whole of life.
.'At that moment," as he told Rogozhin one day in Moscow . . . "at
that moment I seemed somehow to understand the extraordinary saying
that there shall be time no longer. Probably," he added, smiling, "this
is the very second which was not long enough for the water to be spilt out
of Mohammed's pitcher, though the epileptic prophet had time to gaze at
all the habitations of Allah. *

Narcosis or epilepsy are not at all necessary conditions to induce
mystical states in ordinary men.
"Certain aspects of nature appear to have the peculiar power
of awakening such mystical moods," says James.
It would be more correct to say that in all conditions of encom-
passing nature this power lies concealed. The change of the
seasons-the first snow, the awakening of spring, the summer days,
· "The Idiot," by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, transI. of Constance Garnett. New York, the
Macmillan Co.

NATURE AROUSES MYSTICAL MOODS 303
rainy and warm, the aroma of autumn-awakes in us strange
"moods" which we ourselves do not understand. Sometimes these
moods intensify, and become the sensation of a complete oneness
with nature. In the life of every man there are moments which act
upon him more powerfully than others. Upon one a thunderstorm
acts mystically, upon another, sunrise, a third the sea, the forest,
rocks, fire. The voice of sex embraces much of that same mystical
sense of nature.
In the sex impulse man puts himself in the most personal rela-
tion with nature. The comparison of the sensation of woman ex-
perienced by man, or vice versa, with the feeling for nature is met
with very often. And it is really the same sensation as is given
by forest, prairie, sea, mountains, only in this case it is even more
intense, awakens more inner voices, forces the sounding of more
inner strings.
Animals often give the mystical sensation of nature to men.
Almost everyone has his favorite animal, with which he has some
inner affinity. In these animals, or through them, men sense
nature intimately and personally.
In Hindu occultism there is the belief that every man has his cor-
responding animal, through which it is possible to act upon him
magically, through which he himself can act upon others, and into
which he can transform himself or be by others transformed.
Each Hindu deity has his own particular animal.
Brahma has a goose; Vish1!-u an eagle; Shiva a bull; Indra an
elephant; Kali (Durga) a tiger; Rama a buffalo; Ganesha a rat;
Agni a ram; Kartikkeya (or SuhrltlUtnyia) a peacock, and Kama
(the god of love) a parrot.
The same thing is true of Greece: all the deities of Olympus had
their animals.
In the religion of Egypt sacred animals played an enormous
part, and in Egypt the cat, the most magical of all animals, was held
as sacred.
The sense of nature sometimes unfolds something infinitely new
and profound in things which seemed to have been known a long
time and in themselves contained nothing mystical.

The consciousness of God's nearness carne to me sometimes [quotes
Prof. James] . . . a presence, I might say.. . something in myself made

304

TERTIUM ORGANUM

me feel a part of something bigger than I, that was controlling. I felt
myself one with the grass, the trees, birds, insects, everything in ,Nature.
1 exulted in the mere fact of existence, of being a part of it all-the driz-
zling rain, the shadow of the cl'ouds, the tree-trunks, and so on.

In my own note book of 1908 I found a description of the same
experienced state of consciousness.

It was in the sea of Marmora, on a rainy day of winter, the far-off high
and rocky shores were of a pronounced violet color of every shade, in-
cluding the most tender, fading into gray and blending with the gray
sky. The sea was the color of lead mixed with silver. I remember all
these colors. The steamer was going north. I. remained at the rail, look.
ing at the waves. The white crests of waves were running toward us.
A wave would run at the ship, raised as if desiring to hurl its crest upon it,
rushing up with a howl. The steamer heeled, shuddered, and slowly
straightened back; then from afar a new wave came running. I watched
this play of the waves with the ship, and felt them draw me to themselves.
It was not at all that desire to jump down which one feels in mountains
but something infinitely more subtle. The waves were drawing my soul
to themselves. And suddenly I felt that it went to them. It lasted an
instant, perhaps less than an instant, but I entered into the waves and with
them rushed with a howl at the ship. And in that instant 1 became all. The
waves-they were myself: the far violet mountains, the wind, the clouds
hurrying from the north, the great steamship, heeling and rushing irresist-
ibly forward-all were myself.
sensed the enormous heavy body-my
body-all its motions, shudderings, waverings and vibrations, fire, pressure
of steam and weight of engines were inside oj me, the unmerciful and
unyielding propelling screw which pushed and pushed me forward, never
for a moment releasing me, the rudder which determined all my motion-
all this was myself: also two sailors. . . . and the black snake of smoke
coming in clouds out of the funnel . . . all.
It was an instant of unusual freedom, joy and expansion. A second-
and the spell of charm disappeared. It passed like a dream when one
tries to remember it. But the sensation was so powerful, so bright, and
so unusual that I was afraid to move and waited for it to recur. But it did
not return, and a moment later I could not say that it had been-could
not say whether it was a reality or merely the thought that, looking at
the waves, it might be so. -
Two years afterwards the yellowish waves of the Finnish gulf and a
green sky gave me a taste of the same sensation, but this time it was dissi-
pated almost .before it appeared.

The examples given in this chapter do not by any means exhaust
the mystical experience of humanity.

UNITY OF EXPERIENCE 305
But what do we infer from them?
First of all, unity of experience. In mystical sensations all men
feel definitely something in common, having a similar meaning and
connection one with another. The mystics of many ages and
many peoples speak the same language and use the same words.
This is the first and most important thing that speaks for the re-
ality of the mystical experience. Next is the complete harmony
of data regarding such experience with the theoretically deduced
conditions of the world causes; the sensation of the unity of aU,
so characteristic of mysticism; a new sensation of time, the sense
of infinity; joy or horror; knowledge of the whole in the part;
infinite life and infinite consciousness. All these are real sensed
faets in the mystical experience. And these facts are theoretically
correct. They are such as they should he according to the con-
clusions of THE MATHEMATICS OF THE INFINITE AND OF THE HIGHER
LOGIC. This is all that is possihle to say about them.

CHAPTER XXIII

I
Cosmic Consciousness of Dr. Bucke. The three forms of consciousnes
according to Dr. Bucke. Simple consciousness, or the consciousness
of animals. Self-consciousness, or the consciousness of men. Dr.
Bucke's fundamental error. Cosmic consciousness. In what is it
expressed? Sensation, perception, concept, higher MORAL concept-
creative intuition. Men of cosmic consciousness. Adam's fall
into sin. The knowledge of good and evil. Christ and the salvation
of man. Commentary on Dr. Bucke's book. Birth of the new
humanity. Two races. SUPERMAN. Table of the four forms of the
manifestation of consciousness.

V ERY many men believe that the fundamental problems of
life are absolutely unsolvable, that humanity will never
know why it is striving, or for what it is striving, for what
it suffers, or whither it is bound. It is regarded as almost indecent
even to raise these questions. It is decreed that we live "so"-
that we "simply live" thinking of nothing or thinking only on that
which yields a solution-on the surface at least. Men have des-
paired of finding answers to fundamental questions and so have left
them alone.
Yet at the same time men are not in the least aware of what
really created in them such a sense of insolubility and despair.
Whence comes this feeling that it is better not to think about loony
things?
In reality we feel this despair only when we begin to regard man
as something "finite," finished; when we see nothing beyond man,
and think that we already know everything about him. In such
fonn the problem is truly a desperate one. A cold wind blows on
us from all those social theories promising incalculable welfare
on earth, leaving a sense of dissatisfaction and chill even when we
believe their promises.
Why? What is all this for? Well, everybody will be well fed
and well taken care of-Splendid! But after that, what?
Let us suppose-although it is difficult, almost impossible to im-
306

THE MA TERIALIST'S FUTURE 307
agine-that materialistic culture, of itself, has led men to a fortun-
ate state of existence. On earth, then, there exists an unadulterated
civilization and culture. But after that, what?
After that, many resounding phrases of "incredible horizons"
opening hefore science. "Communication with the planet Mars,"
"The chemical synthesis of protoplasm," "The utilization of the
rotation of the earth around the sun," "Energy imprisoned in an
atom," "Vaccine for all diseases,"
'Life to the length of a hundred
years" -or even to one hundred and fifty! After that perhaps,
"The artificial creation of men" -hut beyond this imagination
fails.
It is possible to dig through the earth, but that would he_ en-
irely useless.
Here indeed we encounter that feeling of the insoluhility of the
main questions concerning the aims of existence, and that feeling of
despair on account of our lack of understanding.
Truly, suppose that we have dug completely through the earth-
what then? Shall we dig in another direction? But it is all
very wearisome after all. Nevertheless the various positivistic
social theories, "historical materialism," and so forth, promise
nothing hetter, and can promise nothing. To get any answer at
all to such tormenting questions we must turn in quite another
direction: to the psychological method of study of man and of
humanity. And here we see with amazement, that the psycholog-
ical method gives an entirely satisfactory answer to those funda-
mental questions which seem to us quite insoluhle, and around
ahout which we fruitlessly wander equipped with the defective
instrument of the positivistic method.
The psychological method gives a direct answer at least to the
question of the immediate purpose of our existence.. For some
strange reason men do not care to accept this answer; and they
desire at all costs to receive an answer in some form that they
like, refusing to recognize anything that is different from that
form. They require the solution of the destiny of man as they
fancy him, and 1jhey do not want to recognize that man can
and must hecome entirely different. In him there are not as yet
manifest those faculties which will create his future. Man must
not and cannot remain such as he is now. To think of the future of
this man is just as ahsurd as to think of the future of a child as
.

308 TER TIUM ORGANUM
if it were always going to remain a child. The analogy is not
quite complete, for the reason that probably only a small part of
humanity is capable of growth, but nevertheless this comparison
paints a true picture of our usual attitude toward this question.
And the fate of that greater part of humanity which will prove in-
capable of growth, depends not upon itself, but upon that minor-
ity which will progress. Only inner growth, the unfoldment of
new forces, will give to man a correct understanding of himself,
his ways, his future, and give him power to organize life on earth.
At the present time the general concept "man" is too undiff eren-
tiated and includes within himself entirely different categories, those
capable of development and those incapable. In men capable of
development, new faculties are stirring into life, though not as
yet manifest, because for their manifestation they require a special
culture, a special education. The new conception of humanity dis-
poses of the idea of equality, which after all does not exist, and it
tries to establish the signs and facts of the differences between
men, because humanity will need soon to divide the "progressing"
from the "incapable of progress"-the wheat from the tares, for the
tares are growing too fast, and choke the growth of the wheat.
This is the key to the understanding of our life, and this key
was found long ago!
The enigma was solved long ago. But different thinkers, living
in different epochs, finding the solution, expressed it differently,
and often, not knowing one another, trod the same path amid
enormous difficulties, unaware of their predecessors and contem-
poraries who had gone and were going along the selfsame path.
In the world's literature there exist books, usually little known,
which accidentally or by design may happen to be assembled on
one shelf in one library. These, taken together, will yield so clear
and complete a picture of human existence, its path and its goal,
that there will be no further doubts about the destiny of humanity
(though only its minor part), but a destiny of quite a different sort
from those hard la-bors of digging through the globe, which positive
philosophy, "historical materialism" and "socialism" have in store
for hunmankind.
And if it seems to us that we do not as yet know our destiny, if
we still doubt, and do not dare to part with the hopeless "posi-
tivistic" view of life, it is primarily because men of different catego-

TOO MUCH SPECIALIZA TION 309
ries, having quite different futures, are commingled into one in our
perception; and secondarily because the necessary ideas by means
of which we might understand the true relation of forces have not
won for themselves their rightful place in official science-do not
represent any recognized division or branch of science; it 'is rarely
possible to find them all in one book and it is even rarely possible
to find books expressing these ideas assembled together.
We do not understand many things because we too easily and
too arbitrarily specialize. Philosophy, religion, psychology, math-
ematics, the natural sciences, sociology, the history of culture, art-
each has its own separate literature. There is no complete whole at
all. Even the little bridges between these separate literatures are
built very badly and unsuccessfully, while they are often altogether
absent. And this formation of special literatures is the chief evil
and the chief obstacle to a correct understanding of things. Each
"literature" elaborates its own tenninology, its own language, which
is incomprehensible to the students of other literatures, and does
not coincide with other languages; by this it defines its own limits
the more sharply, divides itself from others, and makes these limits
impassable.
But there are movements of thought which strive not in words,
but in action, to fight this specialization.
Books are appearing which it is impossible to refer to any ac-
cepted library classification, which it is impossible to "enroll" in
any faculty. These books are the forerunners of a new literature
which will break down all fences built in the region of thought,
and will clearly show to those who desire to know, where they are
going and where they can go.
The names of the authors of these books yield the most unex.
pected combinations. I shall not now mention the names of these
authors, or the titles of these books, but shall dwell only upon the
writings of Edward Carpenter and Dr. R. M. Bucke.
Edward Carpenter, directly and without any allegories and sym-
bols, formulated the thought that the existing consciousness by
which contemporary man lives, is merely the transitory form of
another higher consciousness, which even now is manifesting in
certain men, after appropriate preparation and training.
This higher consciousness Edward Carpenter names cosmic con-
sciousness.

310 T E R T I U M 0 R G A N U M
Carpenter traveled in the Orient, visited India and Ceylon, and
there he found men, yogis and ascetics, striving to achieve cosmic
consciousness, and he holds the opinion that the path to cosmic
consciousness is already found in the Orient.
In the book, From Adam's Peak to Elephcmta, he says:

The West seeks the individual consciousness-the enriched mind,
ready perceptions and memories, individual hopes and fears, ambitions,
loves, conquests-the self, the local self, in all its phases and forms-and
sorely doubte whether such a thing as an universal consciousness exists.
The East seeks the universal consciousness, and in these cases where its
quest succeeds individual self and life thin away to a mere film, and are
only the shadows cast by the glory revealed beyond.
The individual consciousness takes the form of Thought, which is fluid
and mobile like quicksilver, perpetually in a state of change and unrest,
fraught with pain and effort; the other consciousness is not in the form of
thought. It touches, sees, hears, and is those things which it perceives,
without motion, without change, without effort, without distinction of sub.
ject and object, but with a vast and incredible joy.
The individual consciousness is specially related to the body. The
organs of the body are in some degree its organs. But the whole body is
only 8S one organ of the cosmic consciousness. To attain this latter one
must have the power of knowing one's self separate from the body-of
passing into a state of ecstasy, in fact. Without thie the cosmic conscious-
ness cannot be experienced.

All the subsequent writings of Carpenter, and especially his
book of free verse, Towards Democracy, deal with the psychol-
ogy of ecstatic experiences and portray the path whereby man
goes toward this principal aim of his existence, i. e., to a new con-
SCIOusness.
Only the attainment of this principal aim will illumine for
man the past and the future; it will be a seership, an awakening-
without this, with only the ordinary sleepy, "individual" conscious-
ness, man is blind, and cannot hope to know anything that he
cannot feel with his stick.
Dr. Bueke, in his book, Cosmic Consciousness, gives the psycho-
logical view of this awakening of the new consciousness.
I shall give, in abbreviated form, several quotations from his
hook.

What is Cosmic Consciousness?

COSMIC CONSCIOUSNESS

311

Cosmic Consciousness is a higher form of consciousness than that
possessed by the ordinary man. This last is cal'led Self Consciousness
and is that faculty upon which rests all of our life (both subjective and
objective) which is not common to us and the higher animals, except
that small part of it which is derived from the few individuals who have
had the higher consciousness above named. To make the matter clear
it must be understood that there are three forms or grades of conscious-
ness. (1) Simple Consciousness, which is possessed by, say, the upper
half of the animal kingdom. (2) Self Consciousness possessed by man
in addition to the simple consciousness, which is similar in man and in
animals. * (3) Cosmic Consciousness. By means of simple consciousness
a dog or a horse is just as conscious of the things about him as a man is;
he is also conscious of his own limbs and body and knows that these are
a part of himself. By virtue of self-consciousness man is not only con-
scious of trees, rocks, water, his own limbs and body, but he becomes
conscious of himself as a distinct entity apart from all the rest of the
universe.
It is as good as certain that no animal can realize himself in that
way. Further, by means of self-consciousness, man becomes capable of
treating his own mental states as objects of consciousness. The animal
is, as it were, immersed in his consciousness as a fish in the sea; he can-
not, even in imagination, get outside of it for one moment so as to realize
it. But man by virtue of self-consciousness can step aside, as it were,
from himself and think : "Yes, that thought that I had about that mat-
ter is true; I know it is true and I,
now that I know it is true." There
is no evidence that any animal can think, but if they could we should
soon know it. Between two creatures living together, as dogs or horses
and men, and each self-conscious, it would be the simplest matter in
the world to open up communication. We do, by watching the dog'e
acts, enter into his mind pretty freely. If he were self-conscious, we must
have learned it long ago. We have not learned it and it is as good as
certain that no dog, horse, elephant or ape ever was self-conscious.
Another thing: on man's self-consciousness is built everything in and
about us distinctly human. Language is the objective of which self-
consciousness is the subjective. Self-consciousness and language (two
in one for they are two halves of the same thing) are the sine qua non
of human social life, of manners, of institutions, of industries of all
kinds, of all arts useful and fine. If any animal possessed self-concious-
nese it would build a superstructure of language. . . But no animal
has done this, therefore, we infer that no animal has self.consciousness.
The possession of self-consciousness and language (its other self) by man
creates an enormous gap between him and the highest creature possess-
ing simple consciousness merely.
* This division constitutes Dr. Bucke's pllincipal en-or. Human conscioueness, 1. e.,
the consciousness of the enormous majonty of men, is "simple consciousness"; "self-
consciousness," like "cosmic consciousness," exists only in a flash.

312

TERTIUM ORGANUM

Cosmic Consciousness is a third form, which is as far above Self Con-
sciousness as is that above Simple Consciousness. The prime character-
istic Cosmic Consciousness is, as its name implies, a consciousness of
the cosmos, that is, of the life and order of the universe. Along with
the consciousness of the cosmos there occurs an intellectual enlighten-
ment or illumination which alone would place the individual on a new
plane of existence--would make him almost a member of a new species.
To this is added a state of moral exaltation, an indescribable feeling of
elevation, elation and joyousness, and a quickening of the moral sense,
which is fully as striking and more important both to the individual and
to the race than is the enhanced intellectual power. With these come
what may be called a sense of immortality, a consciousness of eternal
life, not a conviction that he shall have this, but the consciousness that
he has it already.
Only a personal experience of it, or a prolonged study of men who have
passed into the new life, will enable us to realize what this actually is.
The writer expects his work to be useful in two ways: first, in broaden-
Ing the general view of human life by comprehending in our mental
vision this important phase of it, then by enabling us to realize, in some
measure, the true status of certain men who, down to the present, are
either exalted to the ranks of gods or are adjudged insane. The writer
takes the view that our descendants will sooner or later reach, as a race,
the condition of cosmic consciousness, just as long ago, our ancestors
passed from simple to self.consciousness. He believes that this step in
evolution is even now being made, since it is clear to him both that men
with the faculty in question are becoming more and more common and also
that as a race we are approaching nearer and nearer to that stage
of the self-conscious mind from which the transition to the cosmic con-
scious is effected. He knows that intelligent contact with cosmic con-
scious minds assists self-conscious individuals in the ascent to the higher
plane.

The immediate future of our race [the writer thinks] is indescribably
hopeful. There are at the present moment impending over us three
revolutions, the least of which would dwarf the ordinary historic up-
heaval calIed by that name into absolute insignificance.* They are: (1)
the material, economic and social revolution which will depend upon and
result from the establishment of aerial navigation. (2) The economic
and social revolution which will abolish individual ownership and rid the
earth at once of two immense evils-riches and poverty. And (3) The
psychical revolution of which there is here
uestion.
Either of the first two would (and will) radicaU}r ch3nge the conditions
of, and greatly uplift, human life; but the third will do more for humanity
.See the comment 1, p.321.

r
I

-DR BUCKE'S PROPHECY

313

than both of the former, were their importance multiplied by hundreds
or even thousands.
The three operating (as they will) together will literally create a new
heaven and a new earth. Old things will be done away and all will become
new.
Before aerial navigation national boundaries, tariffs and perhaps distinc-
tions of language will fade out. Great cities will no longer have reason
for being and will melt away. The men who now dwell in cities will inhabit
in summer the mountains and the seashores; building often in -airy and
heautiful spots, now almost or quite inaccessible, commanding the most
extensive and magnificent views. In the winter they will probably dwell in
communities of moderate size. As herding together, as now, in great cities,
so the isolation of the worker of the soil will become a thing of the past.
Space will be practically annihilated, there will be no crowding together
and no enforced solitude.
Before socialism crushing toil, cruel anxiety, insulting and demoralizing
riches, poverty and its ills will become subjects for historical novels.*

In contact with the flux of cosmic consciousness all religions known and
named today will be melted down. The human soul will be revolutionized.
Religion will absolutely dominate the race. It will not depend on tradi-
tions. It will not be believed and dishelieved. It will be part of life, not
belonging to certain hours, times, occasioll;s. It will not be in sacred books,
nor in the mouths of priests. It will not dwell in churches and meetings
and forms and days. Its life will not be in prayers, hymns nor discourses.
It will not depend on special revelations, on the words of gods who came
down to teach, nor on any bible or bibles. It will have no mission to
save men from their sins or to secure their entrance to heaven. It will not
teach a future immortality nor future glories, for immortality and all glory
will exist in the here and now. The evidence of immortality will live in
every heart as sight in every eye. Doubt of God and of eternal life will
be as impossible as is now doubt of existence; the evidence of each will be
the same. Religion will govern every minute of every day of all life.
Churches, priests, forms, creeds, prayers, all agents, all intermediaries be.
tween the individual man and God will be permanently replaced by direct
unmistakable intercourse. Sin will no longer exist nor will salvation be
desired. Men will not worry about death or a future, about the kingdom
of heaven, about what may come with and after the cessation of the life of
the present body. Each soul will feel and know itself to be immortal,
will feel and know that the entire universe with all its good and with all
its heauty is for it and belongs to it forever. The world peopled by men
possessing cosmic consciousness will be ,as far removed from the world
· See the comment 2, p. 321.

314

TERTIUM ORGANUM

of today as this is from the world as it was before the advent of self.con.
sciousness.

III

There is a tradition, probably very old, to the effect that the first man was
innocent and happy until he ate of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge
of good and evil. That having eaten thereof he became aware that he was
naked and was ashamed. Further, that there sin was born into the world,
the miserable sense whereof replaced man's former feeling of innocency;
that then and not till then man began to labor and to cover his body.
Stranger than all, the story runs, that along with this change or immediat
ly
following upon it there came into man's mind the remarkable conviction
which has never since left it, but which has been kept alive by its own
inherent vitality and by the teaching of all true seers, prophets and poets
that man will be saved by the rising up within him of a Savior-the Christ.
Man's progenitor was a creature with simple consciousness merely. He
was (as are today the animals) incapable of sin and equally incapable of
shame (at least in the human sense). He had no feeling or knowledge of
good and evil. He as yet knew nothing of what we call work and had never
labored. From this state he fell (or rose) into self-consciousness, his eyes
were opened, he knew he was naked, he felt shame, acquired the sense of
sin (became in fact what is called a sinner) and learned to do certain things
in order to encompass certain ends-that is, he learned to labor.
For weary aeons this condition has lasted-the sense of sin still haunts
his pathway-by the sweat of his brow he still eats bread-he is still
ashamed. Where is the deliverer, the Savior? Who or what?
The Savior of man is Cosmic Consciousness-in Paul's language, the
Christ. The cosmic sense (in whatever mind it appears) crushes the ser-
pent's head-destroys sin, shame, the sense of good and evil, as contrasted
one with the other, and will annihilate labor, though not human activity.

A personal exposition of the writer's own experience of cosmic conscious-
ness may help the reader to understand the meaning of the following facts:
In childhood he was subject at times to a sort of ecstasy of curiosity and
hope. As on one special occasion when about ten years old he earnestly
longed to die that the secrets of the beyond, if there were any beyond, might
be revealed to him. . . .
At the age of thirty he fell in with "Leaves of Grass," and at once saw
that it contained, in greater measure than any book so far found, what he
had so long been looking for. He read the "Leaves" eagerly, even passion-
ately, but for several years derived little from them. At last light broke
and there was revealed to him (as far perhaps as such things can be re-

DR. B U eKE'S ILL U M I N A T ION 315
vealed) at least some of the meanings. Then occurred that to which the
foregoing is the preface.
It was in the early spring, at the beginning of his thirty-sixth year. He
and two friends had spent the evening reading Wordsworth, Shelley, Keats,
Browning, and especially Whitman. They parted at midnight and he had
a long drive in a hansom (it was in an English city). His mind, deeply
under the influence of the ideas, images and emotions called up by the read-
ing and talk of the evening, was calm and peaceful. He was in a state of
quiet, almost passive enjoyment. All at once, without warning of any
kind, he found himself wrapped around as it wero by a flame-colored
cloud. For an instant he thought of fire, some sudden conflagration in the
great city; the next he knew the light was within himself. Directly after-
wards came upon him a sense of exultation, of immense joyousness accom-
panied or immediately followed by an intellectual illumination quite im-
possible to describe. Into his hrain streamed one momentary lightning-
flash of the Brahmic splendor which has ever since lightened his tife; upon
his heart fell one drop of Brahmic Bliss, leaving thenceforward for always
an after taste of heaven_ Among other things he did not come to believe,
he saw and knew that the cosmos is not dead matter but a living Presence,
that the soul of man is immortal, that the universe is so built and ordered
that without peradventure all things work together for the good of each
and all, that the foundation principle of the world is what we call love
nnd that the happiness of everyone in the long run is absolutely certain.
He elaims he learned more within the few seconds during which the illum-
ination lasted than in previous months or even years of study and that he
learned much that no study could ever have taught.
The illumination itself continued not more than a few moments, but its
effects proved ineffaceable; it was impossible for him ever to forget what
he at that time saw and knew; neither did he, nor could he, ever doubt the
truth of what was then presented to his mind. There was no return that
night or at any other time of the experience.
The supreme occurrence of that night was his real and sole initiation to
the new and higher order of ideas. But it was only an initiation. He
saw the light but had no more idea whence it came and what it meant
than had the first creature that saw the light of the sun. Years afterwards
he met a man who had had a large experience in the higher life. His con-
versations with this man threw a flood of light upon the meaning of what
he had himself experienced. I
Looking round then upon the world of man, he saw the significance of
the subjective light in the case of Paul and in that of Mohammed. The
secret of Whitman's transcendent greatness was revealed to him. Personal
intercourse and conversations with men, * who had similar experiences
assisted greatly in the broadening and clearing up of his speculations.
After spending much time and labor in thinking he came to the conelu-
· Among whom was Edward Carpenter.

316

TERTIUM ORGANUM

sion that there exists a family sprung from, living among, but scarcely
forming a part of ordinary humanity, whose members are spread abroad
throughout the advanced races of mankind and throughout the last forty
centuries of the world's history.
The trait that distinguishes these people from other men is this: Their
spiritual eyes have been opened and they have seen. The better known
members of this group who, if they were collected together, could be ac-
commodated all at one time in a modern drawing-room, have created all
the great modern religions, beginning with Taoism and Buddhism, and speak-
ing generally, have created, through religion and literature, modern civili-
zation. Not that they have contributed any large numerical proportion of
the books which have been written, but that they have produced the few
books which have inspired the larger number of all that have been written
in modern times. These men dominate the last twenty-five, especially the
last five centuries as stars of the first magnitude dominate the midnight sky.

I;t remains to say a few words upon the psychological origin of what is
called in this bcjok Cosmic Consciousness.
Although in the birth of Cosmic Consciousness the moral nature plays
an important part, it will be better for many reasons to confine our atten-
tion at present to the evolution of the intellect. In this evolution there are
four distinct steps. The first of them was taken when upon the primary
quality of excitability sensation was established. At this point began the
acquisition and more or less perfect registration of sense impressions--
that is, of percepts. A percept is of course a sense impression. If we
could go back far enough we should find among our ancestors a creature
whose whole intellect was made up simply of these percepts. But this crea-
ture had in it what may be called an eligibility of growth, and what hap-
pened with it was something like this: Individually and from generation
to generation it accumulated these percepts, the constant repetition of which,
calling for further and further registration, led, in the struggle for exis-
tence and under the law of natural selection, to an accumulation of cells
in the central sense ganglia; at last a condition was reached in which it be-
came possible for our ancestor to combine groups of these percepts into
what we today call a recept. This process is very similar to that of com-
posite photography. Similar percepts (as of a tree) are registered one
over the other until they are generalized into the percept of a tree.
Now the work of accumulation begins again on a higher plane: the sen-
sory organs keep steadily at work manufacturing percepts; the receptual
centers keep steadily at work manufacturing more and yet more recepts
from the old and the new percepts; the capacity of the central ganglia is
constantly taxed to do necessary registration of percepts, the necessary elab-
oration of these into recepts; then 88 the ganglia by use and selection are

PERCEPTS RECEPTS CO N CEPTS 317
improved they constantly manufacture from percepts and from the initial
simple recepts, more and more complex, that is, higher and higher recepts.
At last, after many thousands of generations have lived and died, comes
a time when the mind has reached the highest possible point of purely re-
ceptual intelligence; the accumulation of percepts and of recepts has gone
on until no greater stores of impressions can be laid up and no further elab-
oration of these can be accomplished on the plane of receptual intelligence.
Then another break is made and the higher recepts are replaced by concepts.
The relation of a concept to a recept is somewhat similar to the relation of
algebra to arithmetic. A recept is a composite image of hundreds, perhaps
thousands of percepts; it is itself an image abstracted from many images;
but a concept is that same composite image--that same recept-named,
ticketed, and, as it were, dismissed. A concept is in fact neither more nor
less than a named recept-the name that is, the sign (as in algebra), stand-
ing henceforth for the thing itself, that is, for the recept.
Now it is clear as day to anyone who will give the least thought to the
subject, that the revolution by which concepts are substituted for recepts
increases the efficiency of the brain for thought as much as the introduction
of machinery increases the capacity of the race for work-as much as the
use of algebra increases the power of the mind in mathematical calculations.
To replace a great cumbersome recept by a simple sign was almost like re-
placing actual goods-as wheat, fabrics and hardware--by entries in the
ledger.
But, as hinted above, in order that a recept may be replaced by a con-
cept it must be named, or, in other words, marked with a sign which stands
for it-just as a check stands for a piece of goods; in other words, the race
that is in possession of concepts is also, and necessarily, in possession of
language. Further, it should be noted, as the possession of concepts implies
the possession of language, so the possession of concepts and language
(which are in reality two aspects of the same thing) implies the possession
of self-consciousness. All this means that there is a moment in the evolu-
tion of mind when the receptual intellect, capable of simple consciousness
only, becomes almost or quite instantaneously a conceptual intellect in pos-
session of language and self-consciousness.
Our intellect, then, today is made up of a very complex mixture of per-
cepts, recepts and concepts.
The next chapter in the story is the accumulation of concepts. This is
a double process, each individual accumulates a larger and larger number
while the individual concepts are becoming constantly more and more
complex.
Is there to he any limit to this growth of concepts in number and com-
plexity? Whoever will seriously consider that question will see that there
must be a limit. No such process could go on to infinity.
We have seen that the expansion of the perceptual mind had a necessary
limit: that its continued life led inevitably up to and into the receptual mind;

318

TERTIUM ORGANUM

that the receptual mind by its own growth was inevitably led up to and
intI.) the conceptual mind. A priori considerations make it certain that a
corresponding outlet will be found for the conceptual mind.
But we do not need to depend upon abstract reasoning to demonstrate
the necessary existence of the supra-conceptual mind, since it exists and
can be studied with no more difficulty than other natural phenomena. The
supra-conceptual intellect, the elements of which instead of being concepts
are intuitions, is already (in small numbere it is true) an established fact,
and the form of consciousness that belongs to that intellect may be called
and has been called-Cosmic Consciousness.
The basic fact in cosmic consciousness is implied in its name-that fact
is consciousness of the cosmos-this is what is called in the East the
"Brahmic Splendor," which is in Dante's phrase capable of trans-human-
izing a maD into a god. Whitman, who has an immense deal to say about
it, speaks of it in one place as "ineffable light-light rare, untellable,
lighting the very light-obeyond all signs, description, languages." This
consciousness shows the cosmos to consist not of dead matter governed
by unconscious, rigid, and unintending law; it shows it on the contrary
as entirely immaterial, entirely spiritual and entirely alive; it shows that
dfoo.th is an absurdity, that everyone and everything has eternal life; it
shows that the universe is God and that God is the Universe. . . . A great
deal of this is of course, from the point of view of self.consciousness, ab-
surd; it is nevertheless undoubtedly true. Now all this does not mean that
when a man has cosmic consciousness he knows everything about the
universe. We all know that when at three years of age we acquired
self-consciousness, we did not at once know all about ourselves. . . . So
neither does a man know all about the cosmos merely because he becomes
conscious of it. . . .
If it has taken the race several thousand years to learn a smattering of
the science of humanity since its acquisition of self-consciousness, so it
may take it millions of years to acquire cosmic consciousness.
As on self-consciousness is based the human world as we see it with all
its works and ways, so on cosmic consciousness is based the higher religions
and the higher philosophies and what comes from them, and on it will be
based, when it becomes more general, a new world of which it would be
idle to try to speak today.
The philosophy of the birth of cosmic consciousness in the individual is
very similar to that of the birth of self-consciousness. The mind becomes
overcrowded (as it were) with concepts and these are constantly becoming
larger, more numerous and more and more complex; some day (the condi-
tione being all favorable) the fusion, or what might be called the chemical
union, of several of them and of certain moral elements takes place; the
result is an intuition and the establishment of the intuitional mind, or, in
other words, cosmic consciousness. *
The scheme by which the mind is built up ie uniform from beginning to
· See the Comment 3, p. 322.

DEVELOPMENT OF INTUITION 319
end: a recept is made of many percepts; a concept of many or several re-
cepts and percepts, and an intuition is made of many concepts, recepts and
percepts together with other elements belonging to and drawn from the
moral nature. The cosmic vision or the cosmic intuition, from which what
may be called the new mind takes its name, is thus seen to be simply the
complex and union of all prior thought and experience--just as self-con-
sciousness is the complex and union of all thought and experience prior to it.

Cosmic consciousness, like other forms of consciousness, is capable of
growth, it may have different forms, different degrees.
It must not be supposed that because a man has cosmic consciousness he
is therefore omniscient or infallible. Men of cosmic consciousness have
reached a higher level; but on that level there can be different degrees of
consciousness. And it must be still more evident that, however godlike the
faculty may be, those who first acquire it, living in diverse ages and coun-
tries, passing their life in different surroundings, brought up to view life
from totally different points of view, must necessarily interpret somewhat
differently those things which they see in the new world which they enter.

Language corresponds to the intellect and is therefore capable of express-
ing it perfectly and directly; on the other hand, the functions of the moral
nature are not connected with language and are only capable of indirect
and imperfect expression by its agency. Perhaps music, which certainly
has its roots in the moral nature, is, as at present existing, the beginning of
a language which will tally and express emotions as words tally and express
ideas. . . .
Language is the exact tally of the intellect; for every concept there is a
word or words and for every word there is a concept. . . . No word can
come into being except as the expression of a concept, neither can a new con-
cept be formed without the formation (at the same time) of the new word
which is its expression. But as a matter of fact ninety-nine out of every
hundred of our sense impressions and emotions have never been represented
in the intellect by concepts and therefore remain unexpressed and inex-
pressible except by roundabout description and suggestion.
As the correspondence of words and concepts is not casual or temporary
but resides in the nature of these and continues during all time and under
all circumstances absolutely constant, so changes in one of the factors must
correspond with changes in the other. So evolution of intellect must be
accompanied by evolution of language. An evolution of language will be
evidence of evolution of intellecL

320

TERTIUM ORGANUM

It seems that in every, or nearly every man who enters into cosmic con-
sciousness apprehension is at first more or less excited, the person doubt-
ing whether the new sense may not be a symptom or form of insanity.
Mohammed was greatly alarmed. The Apostle Paul was alarmed in the
same manner.
The first thing each person asks himself upon experiencing the new sense
is: Does what I see and feel "represent reality or am I suffering from a
delusion? The fact that the new experience seems even more real than
the old teachings of consciousness does not at first fully reassure him, be-
cause he knows the force of delusions.
Simultaneously or instantly following the above sense and emotional eX.
periences there comes to the person an intellectual illumination quite im-
possible to describe. Like a flash there is presented to his consciousness a
clear conception (a vision) in outline of the meaning and drift of the unj.
verse. He does not come to believe merely; but he sees and knows that the
cosmos, which to the self-conscious mind seems made up of dead matter, is
in fact far otherwise-is in very truth a living presence. He sees that in.
stead of men being, as it were, patches of life scattered through an infinite
sea of non-living substance, they are in reality specks of relative death in
an infinite ocean of life. He sees that the life which is in man is eternal,
as all life is eternal, that the soul of man is as immortal as God is. . . .
A man learns infinitely much of the new. Especially does he obtain such
a conception of THE WHOLE-or at least of an immense WHOLE-as
dwarfs all conception, imagination or speculation, such a conception as makes
the old attempts to mentally grasp the universe and its meaning petty and
even ridiculous.
This expansion of the intellect enormously increases the capacity both
f or learning and initiating.

The history of the development and appearance of cosmic conscicusness
in humanity is the same as that of the development of all the various psychic
faculties. These faculties appear first in certain exceptional individuals,
then become more frequent, thereafter become susceptible of development in
all, and at last begin to belong to all men from their birth. Rare, excep-
tional, unique abilities appear in man in mature age, sometimes even in
senility. Becoming more common they manifest as "talents" in younger
men. And then they appear as "abilities" even in children. At last they
become the common property of all from their birth, and their absence is
regarded as a monstrosity.
Such is the faculty of speech (i. e., the faculty of making concepts).
Probably in a distant past, at the beginning of the appearance of self.con-
sciousness, this faculty was the gift of a few exceptional individuals and
it began then to appear perhaps in senility. Mter that it began to appear
more frequently and to manifest itself earlier. Probably there was a period

COMMENTS ON THE FOREGOING 321

when speeCfh was not a gift of all men just as are not now artistic talents,
the musical sense, the sense of color and form. Gradually it became pos-
sible for all and then inevitable and necessary, if some physical defect did
not prevent its manifestation.

COMMENTS ON THE QUOTATIONS FROM
DR. BUCKE'S BOOK

I. Though I am quoting Dr. Bucke's opinion regarding three
coming revolutions, let me note that I do not at all share his
optimism regarding social life, which, as follows from what he
says, can and must change by reason of material causes (the con-
quest of the air and social revolution). The only possible ground
for favorable changes in the outer life (provided such changes are
generally possible) can only be changes in the inner life-i. e., those
changes which Dr. Bucke calls the psychical revolution. This is
the only thing that can create a better future for men. All cultural
conquests in the realm of the material are double-edged, may
equally serve for good or for evil. A change of consciousness can
alone be a guarantee of the surcease of wilful misuses of the powers
given by culture, and only thus will culture cease to be a "growth
lof bar,barity." QemocmtJic organizati-on and the nomimd rule
of the majority guarantee nothing: on the contrary, even now, where
they are realized-though only in name-they create without de-
lay, and promise in future to create on a larger scale, violence
toward the minority, the limitation of the individual, and the cur-
tailment of freedom.
2. Dr. Bucke says that once human consciousness is attained,
then further evolution is inevitable. In this affirmation Dr. Bucke
makes a mistake common to all men who dogmatize about evolution.
Having painted a very true picture of the consecutive gradations
of the forms of consciousness observed by us-of animal-vegetable,
of animal,. and of man-Dr. Bucke considers this gradation ex-
clusively in the light of the evolution of one form from another,
not at all admitting the possibility of other points of view: for ex-
ample, the fact that each of the existing forms is a link of separole
evolutionary chains, i. e., that the evolutions of animal-vegetables,
of animals and -of men are different, go by different routes, and do
not impinge upon one another. And this standpoint is entirely

322

TERTIUM ORGANUM

justifiable when we take into consideration the fact that we never
know transitional forms. Moreover Dr. Bucke makes an entirely
arbitrary conclusion concerning the inevitabilit,y of the further evo-
lution of man, because unconscious evolution (i. e., unconscious for
the individual directed by the consciousness of the species) in the
vegetable and animal kingdoms is impossible with the appearance of
reasoning in man. It is necessary to recognize that the mind of a
man depends upon itself to a considerably greater degree than
the mind of an animal. The mind of a man has far more power
over itself; it can assist in its own evolution, and can also impede
it. We are confronted with the general question: can unconscious
evolution proceed with the appearance of reasoning? It is far
more correct to suppose that the appearance of reasoning annihilates
1!he possibility of unconscious evolution. Power over evolution
passes from the group-soul (or from nature) to the individual itself.
Further evolution, if it take place, cannot be an elemental and un.
conscious affair, but will result solely from conscious efforts to-
ward grow
h. * This is the most interesting point in the whole
process, but Dr. Bucke fails to bring it out. Man, not striving to-
ward evolution, not conscious of its possibility, not helping it, will
not evolve. And the individual who is not evolving does not re-
main in a static condition, but goes down, degenerates (i. e., some
of his elements begin their own evolution, inimical to the whole).
This is the general law. And if we take into consideration what an
infinitesimal percentage of men think and are capable of thinking
of their evolution (or their striving toward higher things) then
we shall see that to talk about the inevitability of this evolution is
at least naive.
3. Speaking of the formation of a higher faculty of knowledge
and reason, Dr. Bucke fails to take into consideration one very im-
portant circumstance. He himself previously remarks that the
blending of concepts with emotional elements proceeds in the mind,
and as a result of this a new understanding appears, and then
cosmic consciousness. Thus it follows from his own words that
cosmic consciousness is not simply a blending of concepts with
emotional elements, or ideas with feelings, but is the result of this
blending. Dr. Bucke however does not dwell on this with sufficient
attention. Moreover he further regards the fundamental element
· See p. 292. Quotation from Mable Collins' book.

DR. BUCKE'S ERROR

323

of cosmic consciousness as the blending of sensations, perceptions
and concepts with elements properly belonging to the emotional
nature. This is a mistake, because one element of cosmic conscious-
ness is not simply the blending of thought and feeling, but the result
of this blending, or in other words: thought and feeling plus some-
thing else, plus something else that is absent either in the intellect
or in the emotional nature.
But Dr. Bucke regards this new faculty of understanding and
reasoning as a product of the evolution of existing faculties and
this vitiates all his deductions. Let us imagine that some scientist
from another planet, not suspecting the existence of man, stJldies
the horse, and its "evolution" from colt to saddle-horse, and re-
gards as its highest evolution the horse with the horseman in the
saddle. From our standpoint it is clearly impossible to regard a
man sitting in the horse's saddle as a fact of horse evolution, but
from the point of view of the scientist who knows nothing about man,
this will be only logical. Dr. Bucke finds himself in exactly this
position when he regards that which transcends the region of hu-
manity altogether as a fact of human evolution. Man possessing
cosmic consciousness, or approaching cosmic consciousness is not
merely man, but man with something higher added. Dr. Bucke,
like Edward Carpenter in many cases also, is handicapped by the
desire not to go too strongly counter to accepted views (although
that is inevitable); by the desire to reconcile those views with the
"new thought," to flatten out contradictions, to reduce everything to
one thing, which is of course impossible-as is the reconciliation
of correct and incorrect, true and false views upon one and the
same thing.

The greater part of Dr. Bucke's book consists of examples and
quotations from the teachings and writings of men of "cosmic
consciousness" in the history of the world. He draws parallels
between these teachings, and establishes the unity of the forms of
transition into the new state of consciousness in men of different
centuries and of different peoples, and the unity of their sensations
of the world and of the self, testifying more than anything else to
the genuineness and reality of their experiences.

324 TER TIUM 0 RGANUM
The founders of world-religions, prophets, philosophers,
poe1Js-these are men of "cosmic consciousness" according to
Dr. Bucke's book. He does not pretend to present a full list
of them, and it is of course possible to add many names to his
list. *
But after all, various little imperfections of Dr. Bucke's book
are not important, nor additions which might possibly be made.
What is important is the general conclusion to which Dr. Bucka
comes-the possibility and the immanence of the NEW CONSCIOUS-
NESS.
All this announces to us the nearness of the NEW HUMANITY.
We are building without taking into consideration the fact that
a NEW MASTER must come who may not at all like everything that
we have built. Our "social sciences," sociology, and so forth, have
in view only man, while as I have several times shown before,
the concept "man" is a complex one, and includes in itself dif-
ferent categories of men going along different paths. The future
belongs not to man, but to superman, who is already born, and
lives among us.
A higher race is rapidly emerging among humanity, and it is
emerging by reason of its quite remarkable understanding of the
world and life.
It will be truly a HIGHER RACE-and there will be no possibility
of any falsification, any substitution, or any usurpation at all. It
will be impossible for anything to be boughtJ, or appropriated to
oneself by deceit or by might. Not only will this race be, but it
already is.
The men approaching the transition into a new race begin already
to know one another: already are established pass-words and counter-
signs. And perhaps those social and political questions so sharply
put forward in our time may be solved on quite another plane and
.Dr. Bucke makes a very important error concerning self-consciousness. In his opin-
ion "simple consciousness" characterizes an animal and "self-consciousness" charac-
terizes a man. But as a matter of fact a prolonged self-consciousness during sensation,
feeling or thinking is a very rare phenomenon in man, uBIlally that which is called
self-consciousness is simply thought and it goes post factum. True self-consciousness
exists in man only potentially, and, if it manifests itself, it does so only by moments.
These moments of self-conscionsness should not be identified with prolonged self-
consciousness. Prolonged self-consciousness is already "a new consciousness," and there
is the possibility of moments of cosmic consciousness, which in the course of further
development may, in turn, become prolonged.

THE CULTURE OF CONSCIOUSNESS 325
by quite a different method than we think-may be solved by the
entrance into the arena of a new race CONSCIOUS OF ITSELF which
will judge the old races.

In my remarks I called attention to certain imperfections in
Dr. Bucke's book arising chieHy from a strange indecisiveness of
his, from his timidity in asserting the dominant significance of the
new consciousness. This results from the desire of Dr. Bucke
to establish the future of humanity from a positivistic standpoint
upon social and political revolutions. But we may regard this
view as having lost all validity. The bankruptcy 'Of materialism,
i. e., "logical" systems, when it comes to organizing life on earth is
now evident in the bloody epoch which we are undergoing, even to
those men who but yesterday were prating of "culture" and "civiliza-
tion." It became clearer and clearer that the changes in the outer
life of the majority, when these changes come, wlFll do so as a result
of inner changes in a few.
We may say further with regard to Dr. Bucke's entire book,
that touching the idea of the natural growth of consciousness, he
does not notice that these faculties do not unfold themselves per-
force: conscious work on them is necessary. And he does not dwell
at all on conscious efforts in this direction, on the idea of the culture
of cosmic consciousness. Meanwhile there exists a whole series
of psychological teachings (occultism, yoga, etc.) and a large liter-
ature having in view a systematic culture of the higher conscious-
ness. Dr. Bucke does not remark this, and insists upon the idea of
natural growth, although he himself several times touches upon the
culture of consciousness. In one portion of his book he speaks very
contemptuously regarding the use of narcotics for the creation of ec-
static states, not taking into consideration the fact that narcotics can-
not give anything which man does not possess (this is the explan-
ation of the different action of narcotics on different men), but can
only in certain cases unfold that which is already in the soul of
man. This entirely alters the point of view upon narcotics, as
Prof. William James has shown in his book, The Varieties of Relig-
ious Experience.

326

TERTIUM ORGANUM

In general, allured by the evolutionary point of view, and look-
ing at the future, Dr. Bucke, like many others, does not pay suffi-
cient attention to the present. That new consciousness which men
may discover or unfold in themselves now is indeed far more im-
portant than that which mayor may not appear in other men
millenniums hence.

Regarding from different standpoints the complex forms of the
manifestation of spirit, and analyzing the views and opinions of
various authors, we are always confronted with what seen;\to be
consecutive phases or consecutive stages of this unfoldment. And
we find such phases or stages to be four in number. Further con-
sideration of the living world known to us, from the lower animal
organisms up to the highly developed body of man, reveals the sim-
ultaneous existence of all four fonns of consciousness to which all
other aspects of the inner life correspond: the sepse of space and
time, the form of activity, etc. Still further consideration of man
of the higher type reveals the presence of all the four fonns of
consciousness which are in living nature, with f onns corresponding
to them. (See table, p. 327.)
The simultaneous coexistence of all four forms of consciousness
at once, both in nature and in the higher type of man makes the
exclusively evolutionary standpoint seem forced and artificial.
The evolutionary standpoint is often made the means of escape from
difficult problems, and from hard thinking.
Some people apply the evolutionary theory where there is no
necessity for it whatever. In many cases this is a compromi'se of
thought. Not understanding the existing variety of fonns, and
not possessing the skill to think of all this as a unity, men have
recourse to the evolutionary idea, and regard this great variety of
forms as an ascending ladder-not because this confonns to facts,
but from a desire to systematize the observed facts at all costs,
though on entirely artificial foundations. It appears to men that
having built a system they already know something, whereas in
reality the absence of a system is often much nearer to real knowl-
edge than an artificial system.

T ABLE OF THE FOUR FORMS 327

FORMS OF
CONSCIOUSNESS
Latent
Consciousness,
siInilar to our
instincts and
subconscious feelings.

Simple
Consciousness
and
flas' }s of thought.

LIVING WORLD

Cells, groups of cells,
plants, lower ani-
mals, and organs
and parts of body
of higher animals
and of man.
Animals possessing
complex organisms.
Absence of con.
sciousness of death.

MAN OF HIGHER
TYPE

Cells, groups of cells,
tissues and organs
of the body.

Body, instincts, de-
sires, voices of the
body, emotions.

Reasoning. Moments
of self-consciousness
and flashes of
cosmic consciousness.

Self-consciousness
and beginning of
cosmic consciousness.

Man. Consciousness
of death or fantastic
theories of immor-
tality.
Man of higher type. I
Beginning of immor-
tality.

Simple emotions, log-
ical reason, mind.

H i g her emotions,
higher intellect, in-
tuition, mystical
wisdom.

"Evolutionists," being incapable of understanding the whole,
without representing it to themselves as a chain, one link of which
is connected with another, are like the blind men in the Oriental
fable, who feel of an elephant in different places, and one affirms
that the elephant is like pillars, another that it is like a thick rope,
and so forth. The evolutionists however, add to this that the trunk
of the elephant must evolve from the feet, the ears from the trunk,
and so on. But we after all know that this is an elephant, i. e., a
single being, unknown to men who are blind. Such a being is the
living world. And with regard to the forms of consciousness, it
is far more correct to consider them not as consecutive phases or
steps of evolution which are separate from one another, but as
different sides or parts of one whole which we do not know.
In "man" this unity is apparent. All forms of consciousness
in him can exist simultaneously; the life of cells and organs, with
their consciousness; the life of the entire body, taken as a whole;
the life of the emotions and of the logical reason, and the life of
the higher understanding and feeling.

328 TERTIUM ORGANUM
The higher form of consciousness is not necessary fOT life; It Is
possible to live without it. But without it the organization and
orderliness of life is impossible. Long under the domination of
materialism and positive thinking, forgetting and perverting relig-
ious ideas, men thought that it was possible to live by the merely
logical mind ,alone. But now, little by little, it is becoming quite
evident to those who have eyes, that merely by the exercise of
logical reason men will not be able to organize their life on earth,
and if they do not finally 'exterminate themselves, as some tribes
and peoples are doing, in any case they will create (and have al-
ready created) impossible conditions of life in which everything
gained will be lost-i. e., everything that was given them in the past
by men of self-consciousness and cosmic consciousness.

The living world of nature (including man) is analogous to
man; and it is more correct and more convenient to regard the
different fonns of consciousness in different divisions and strata
of living nature as belonging to one organism and perfonning
different, but related func
ions, than as separate, and evolving
from (me another. Then the necessity disappears for all this naive
theorizing on the subject of evolution. We do I).ot regard the organs
and members of the body of man as evolved one from another in a
given individual and we should not be guilty of the same error
with relation to the organs and members of the body of living
nature.
I do not deny the law of evolution, but the application of it to the
explanation of many phenomena of life is in great need of correc-
tion.
Firstly, if we accept the idea of one common evolution, after all
it is necessary to remember that the types which develop slower,
the remnants of evolution, may not continue to follow after, and
at a slow pace, the same evolution, but may begin an evolution of
their own, developing in many cases exactly those properties on
a
c()unt of which they were thrown out from basic evolution.
Secondly, though we accept the law of evolution, there is no
necessity to regard all existing forms as having been developed
one from another (like man from the ape, for example). In such

EVOLUTION WRONGLY UNDERSTOOD 329
cases it is more correct to regard them all as the highest types in
their own evolution. The absence of intermediate forms makes
this view much more probable than that which is usually accepted,
and which gives such rich material for discussions about the ob-
ligatory and inevitable perfection of all-''perfection'' from our
standpoint.
The views propounded here are indeed more difficult than the
usual evolutionary point of view, just as the conception of the
living world as an entire organism is more difficult; but this diffi-
culty must be surmounted. I have said already that the real world
must be illogical from the usual points of view, and by no means
can it be made simple and comprehensible to one and all. The
theory of evolution is in need of many corrections, additions, and
much development. If we consider the existing forms on any given
plane, it will be quite impossible to declare that all these forms
evolved from the simplest forms on this plane. Some undoubtedly
evolved from the lowest ones; others resulted from the process
of degeneration of the higher ones; a third class developed from
the remnants of some evolved form-while a fourth class resulted
as a consequence of the incursion into the given plane of the proper-
ties and characteristics of some higher plane. It is certainly impos-
sible to regard these complex forms as developed by an evolutionary
process upon the given plane.
The below classification will show more clearly this correlation
of forms of manifestation of consciousness, or of different states of
consciousness.
First form. A sense of one-dimensional space in relation to the
outer world. Everything transpires on a line, as it were. Sensa-
tions are not differentiated. Consciousness is immersed in itself, in
its work of nutrition, digestion and assimilation of food, etc. This
is the state of the cell, the group of cells, of tissues and organs of the
body 'Of an animal, of plants and lower organisms. In a man this
is the "instinctive mind."
Second form. A sense of two-dimensional space. This is the
state of the animal. That which is for us the third dimension, for
it is motion. It already senses, feels, but does not think. Every-
thing that it sees appears to it as genuinely real. Emotional life
and flashes of thought in a man.
Third form.. A sense of three-dimensional space. Logical

330 TERTIUM ORGANUM
thinking. Philosophical division into I and Not-I. Dogmatic reo
ligions or dualistic spiritism. Codified morality. Division into
spirit and matter. Positivistic science. The idea of evolution. A
mechanical universe. The understanding of cosmic ideas as meta-
phors. Imperia1ism, "historical materialism," sociausm, etc.
Subjection of the personality to society and law. Automatism.
Death as the extinction of the personality. Intellect and Hashes of
self-consciousness.
Fourth form. Beginning of the understanding of four-dimen-
sional space. A new concept of time. The possibility of more
prolonged self-consciousness. Flashes of cosmic consciousness.
The idea and sometimes the sensation of a living universe. A
striving toward the wondrous. Sensation of infinity. Beginning
of self-conscious will and moments of cosmic consciousness. Pos-
sibility of personal immortality.
Thus the third form includes that "man" whom science studies.
But the fourth form is characteristic of the man who is beginning to
pass out of the field of observation of positivism and logical under-
standing.
The table at the end of the book is a summing up of the con-
tents of the entire book, and shows more in detail the correlation of
the observed fonns of consciousness in the living world and in
"man."

EVOLUTION OR CULTURE?

The most interesting and important questions arising with regard
to cosmic consciousness may be summed up as follows: I.-Is the
manifestation of cosmic consciousness a problem of the distant
future, and of other generations-i. e., must cosmic consciousness
appear as the result of an evolutionary process, after centuries and
millenniums, and will it then become a common property or a
property of the majority? And 2.-Can cosmic consciousness make
its appearance now in contemporary man, i. e., at least as the result
of a certain education and self-development which will aid the
unfolding in him of dominant forces and capabilities, i. e., as the
result of a certain culture?
It seems to me that with regard to this, the following ideas are
tenable:

EVOLUTION OR CULTURE? 331
The possibility of the appearance or development of cosmIC
consciousness belongs to the few.
But even in the case of those men in whom cosmi.c conscious-
ness may appear, certain quite definite inner and outer condi-
tions are requisite for its manifestation-a certain culture, the
educa'IJiqn of those elements congeni:al to cosmic consciousness,
and the elimination of those hostile to it.
The distinguishing signs of those men in whom cosmic conscious-
ness is likely to manifest are not studied at all.
The first of these signs is the constant or frequent sensation that
the world is not at all as it appears; that what is most important
in it is not at all what is considered most important. The quest
of the wondrous, sensed as the only real and true, results from
this impression of the unreality of the world and everything re-
lated thereto.
High mental culture, high intellectual attainments, are not neces-
sary conditions at all. The example of many saints, who were not
intellectual, but who undoubtedly attained cosmic consciousness,
shows that cosmic consciousness may develop in purely emotional
soil, i. e., in the given case as a result of religious emotion. Cos-
mic consciousness is also possible of attainment through the emo-
tion attendant upon creation-in painters, musicians and poets.
Art in its highest manifestations is a path to cosmic conscious-
ness.
But equally in all cases the unfoldment of cosmic consciousness de-
mands a certain culture, a correspondent life. From all the exam-
ples cited 'by Dr. Bucke, and all others that one might add, it would
not be possible to select a single case in which cosmic consciousness
unfolded in conditions of inner life adverse to it, i. e., in moments
of absorption by the outer life, with its struggles, its emotions and
interests.
For the manifestation of cosmic consciousness it is necessary that
the center of gravity of everything shall lie for man in the inner
world, in self-consciousness, and not in the outer world at all.
If we assume that Dr. Bucke himself had been surrounded by
entirely different conditions than those in which he found himself
at the moment of experiencing cosmic consciousness, then in all
probability his illumination would not have come at all.
He spent the evening reading poetry in the company of men of

332 TERTIUM ORGANUM
high intellectual and emotional development, and was returning
home full of the thoughts and emotions of the evening.
But if instead of this he had spent the evening playing cards in the
society of men whose interests were common and whose conversation
was vulgar, or at a political meeting, or had he worked a night shift
in a factory at a turning-lathe or written a newspaper editorial in
which he himself did not believe and nobody else would believe-
then we may declare with certainty that no cosmic consciousness
would have appeared in him at all. For it undoubtedly demands
a great freedom, and concentration on the inner world.
This conclusion in regard to the necessity for special culture and
definitely favorable inner and outer conditions does not necessarily
mean that cosmic consciousness is likely to manifest in every man
who is put in these conditions. There are men, probably an enor.
mous majority of contemporary humanity, in whom exists no such
possibility at all. And in those who do not possess it in some sort
already, it cannot be created by any culture whatever, in the same
way that no kind or amount of culture will make an animal E\peak the
language of man. The possibility of the manifestation of cosmic
consciousness cannot be inoculated artificially. A man is either
born with or without it. This possibility can be throttled or devel-
oped, but it cannot be created.
Not all can learn to discern the real from the false; but he who
can will not receive this gift of discernment free. This is a thing
of great labor, a thing of great work, which demands boldness of
thought and boldness of feeling.

CONCLUSION

In conclusion I wish to speak of those wonderful words, full of
profound mystery from the Apoc(J)lypse and the apostle Paul'

Epistle to the Ephesians, which are placed as the epigraph of this
book.
The Apocalyptic angel swears that THERE SHALL BE TIME NO
LONGER.
We know not what the author of the Apocalypse wanted to con-
vey, but we do know those STATES OF SPIRIT when time disappears.
We know that in this very thing, in the change of the time-sense, the
beginning of the fourth form of consciousness is expressed, the begin-
ning of the transition to COSMIC CONSCIOUSNESS.
In this and in phrases similar to it, the profound philosophical
content of the evangelical teaching sometimes Hashes forth. And
the understanding of the fact that the MYSTERY OF TIME is the first
mystery to be revealed is the first step toward the development of
cosmic consciousness along the intellectual path.
But what did the Apocalyptic sentence mean? Did it mean pre-
cisely what we are now able to construe in it-or was it simply a
bit of verbal art, a rhetorical figure of speech, the accidental harp-
ing of a string which has continued to sound up to our own time,
through centuries and millenniums, with such a wonderfully power-
ful, true and beautiful tone of thought? We know not now, nor
shall we ever, but the words are full of splendor, and we may accept
them as a symbol of remote and inaccessible truth.
The apostle Paul's words are even more strange, even more start-
ling by reason of their mathematical exactness. (A friend showed
me these words in A. Dobroluboff's From the Book Invisible, who
saw in them a direct reference to "the fourth measure of space.")
Truly, what does this mean?

. . . That yet being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to com-
prehend with all saints what is the BREADTH and LENGTH and DEPTH and
HEIGHT.

333

334

TERTIUM ORGANUM

First of all, what does the comprehension of breadth and length
and depth and height mean? What is it but the comprehension of
space? And we now know that the comprehension of the mysteries
of 'space is the beginning of the higher comprehension.
The apostle says that "being rooted and grounded in love, with
all saints" they may comprehend what space is.
Here arises the question: why must love give comprehension?
That love leads to sanctity-this is easily understood. Love in
the sense that the apostle Paul understands it (Chapter XIII of the
First Epistle to the Corinthians) is the highest of all emotions, the
synthesis, the blending of all highest emotions. Incontestably, this
leads to sanctity. Sanctity: that is the state of the spirit liberated
from the duality of man, from his eternal disharmony of soul and
body. In the language of the apostle Paul sanctity meant even a
little less than in our contemporary language. He called all mem-
bers of his church saints; sanctity meant to him righteousness, mor-
ality, religiosity. We say that all this is merely the path to
sanctity. Sanctity is something more-something attained. But it
is after all immaterial how we shall understand his words-in his
meaning or in ourg--sanctity is a superhuman quality. In the
region of morality it corresponds to genius in the region of mind.
Love is the path to saint/wod.
But with sanctity the apostle Paul unites KNOWLEDGE. Saints
comprehend what is the breadth and length and depth and height;
and he says that all-through love-may comprehend this with them.
But may comprehend what, exactly? COMPREHEND SPACE. Be-
cause "breadth and length and depth and height" translated into
our language of shorter definitions actually means space.
This last is the most strange.
How could the apostle Paul possibly KNOW that sanctity gives
a new understanding of space? We know that it must give it, but
FROM WHAT could he know that?
None of his contemporaries ever united sanctity with the idea of
the comprehension of space; and in general there was no discus.sion
at all about "space" at that time, at least among the Greeks and
Romans. Only now, after Kant, and after we have had access to the
treasures of thought of the Orient, do we understand that the transi-
tion into a new phase of consciousness is impossible without the ex-
pansion of the space-sense.

PO SIT I V ISM A R RES T S PRO G RES S 335
But we wonder if this is what the apostle Paul wanted to say-
that strange man: Roman official, persecutor of the first Christianity
who became its preacher, philosopher, mystic; the man who "saw
God," the bold refonner and moralist of his time, who fought for
"the spirit" against "the letter" and was of course not responsible
for the fact that he himself was understood by others not in "the
spirit," but in "the letter." Is it this that he wanted to say? We
do not know.
But let us look at these words of the Apocalypse and the Epistles
from the standpoint of our usual "positivistic thinking," which some-
times condescendingly agrees to admit the "metaphorical meaning"
of mysticism. What shall we see?
WE SHALL SEE NOTHING!
The Hash of mystery, which appeared just for an instant, will
immediately disappear. The words will be without any content,
nothing in them will attract our wearied attention, which will merely
glide over them as it glides over everything. We will indifferently
turn the page and indifferently close the book.
An interesting metaphor, yes: But nothing else!
And we fail to observe that we rob ourselves, deprive life of all
beauty, all mystery, all content; and wonder afterwards why every-
thing is so uninteresting and detestable to us, why we do not desire
to live, and why we do not understand anything around us; we
wonder why brute force wins, or deceit and falsification, though to
these things we have nothing to oppose.
THE METHOD IS NO GOOD.
In its time ''positivism'' appeared as something refreshing, sobet",
healthful and progressive, which explored new avenues of thought.
After the sentimental speculations of naive dualism "positivism"
was indeed a great step forward. Positivism became a symbol of
the progress of thought.
But we see now that it inevitably leads to materialism. And in
this form it arrests thought. From revolutionary, persecuted, an.
archistic, free-thinking, positivism became the basis of official
science. It is decked-out in full dress. It is given medals. There
are academies and universities dedicated to its service. It is rec-
ognized; it teaches; it tyrannizes over thought.
But having attained to well-being and prosperity, positivism im-
mediately opposed obstacles to the forward march of thought.

336

TERTIUM ORGANUM

A Chinese wall of "positivistic" sciences and methods is built up
around free investigation. Everything rising above this wall is
condemned as unscientific.
And seen in this way positivism, which before was a symbol of
progress, now appears as conservative, reactionary.
The existing order is already established in the world of thought,
and to fight against it is declared to be a crime.
With astonishing rapidity those principles which only yesterday
expressed the -highest radicalism in the region of thought have be-
come the basis of opportunism in the region of ideas and serve as
blind alleys, stopping the progress of thought. In our eyes this
occurred with the idea of evolution, on which it is now possible to
build up anything, and with the help of which it is possible to tear
down anything.
But thought, which is free, cannot be bound by any limits.
The true motion which lies at the foundation of everything, is
the motion of tlwught. True energy is the energy of conscious-
ness. And trulh itself is motion, and can never lead to arrestment,
to the cessation of search.
ALL THAT ARRESTS THE MOTION OF THOUGHT-IS FALSE.
Therefore the true and real progress of thought is only in the
broadest striving toward knowledge, that does not recognize the
possibility of arrestment in any found forms of knowledge at all.
The meaning of life is in eternal search. And only in that search
can we find something truly new.

III

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