The Complete Works of Yogy Ramacharaka. William Walker AtkinsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
very thick, but each layer is thinner than the one next further away from the light—the layers nearest the light are quite thin, until they grow almost transparent. Try to fix this figure in your mind. Now, very little light reaches the outside layer of the cloth, but still that which does reach it is the best light it is capable of receiving or conceiving. We remove the first layer of cloth. The second layer is found to receive and show forth more light than the one just cast aside. We remove the second one, and we find the third one still brighter, and able to radiate considerably more light. And so on, and on, each layer when removed bringing to view more light and brighter light, until at the last all the layers are removed and the light of the Spirit is seen shining brightly through the glass bulb of the Spiritual Mind. If the layers of cloth had been able to think, they would have thought of the whole bundle of cloth (with the lamp in the center) as 'I.' And each layer would have seen that 'closer in' was something a little lighter than is ordinary self, which light would stand for the highest conception of light possible to the outer cloth—its 'conscience,' in fact. Each layer of cloth would be conscious of the next inner layer being brighter than itself. The second layer would appear very 'good' to the first one, but to the fourth or fifth the second would be darkness itself (by comparison), quite 'bad' in fact. And yet each would have been 'good' because it carried light to the layer still more in the dark. Conscience is the light of the Spirit, but we see it more or less dimly because of the layers surrounding it—we see only as much as filters through the cloth. And so we call the next inner layer 'conscience'—and so it is, relatively. Do you understand the matter any clearer now? Can you see why the 'consciences' of different people differ? Does the fact that the different layers of cloth manifest varying degrees of light, make you doubt the brightness and reliability of the light itself? Think over this clumsy illustration for a while, and see whether your mind does not open to a clearer idea of the value of Conscience.
Do not despise Conscience or its voice, just because you see that the Conscience of the lowly and undeveloped man allows him to do certain things that you consider 'bad.' That 'bad' is 'good' when compared to the next lowest stage of unfoldment. And do not feel self-righteous because your Conscience holds you to a very high code of ethics—there are beings today, in the flesh, that view your code of ethics as you do those of the Bushman. You doubt this! Let us give you an illustration. You call yourself 'honest' and 'truthful.' Can you truthfully say that you have ever lived a month without telling an untruth? Come now, honor bright—'white lies' and an evasion of 'the whole truth' count as well as the big lies—have you ever been absolutely truthful and honest for a whole month? Trade lies—professional 'necessities'—'business talk'—'politeness'—and all the rest count against you in this test. Oh no, we do not condemn you—in fact, we cannot see how you could be much better in the present stage of the unfoldment of the race—you are doing the best you know how—to be able to see that you are not strictly honest and truthful is a mighty advance. And this test is only a trifling one—the race is committing much greater crimes, when viewed from a few steps up the mountain side. Are any people suffering from want in the world? Are any of your brothers not receiving their share of the benefits that have come to the race? Are things fully as 'good' as they should be? Can you not suggest a single improvement in the state of affairs? Oh yes, we know that you alone are not able to remedy things—but you are part of the race and are enjoying the privileges that come to the race—you are one of the crowd in the car that is rolling over the victims of the present state of affairs. But as you say, you cannot help it—the race must grow into better things—must work itself out of the slough. And the pain of it all will cause it to work out—it is beginning to feel that pain now, and is getting very uneasy about it. All that you can do is to see the thing, and be willing for the change to come when it does. God has the loose end of the ball, and is unwinding and unwinding. You must have faith, and be willing for the unwinding, bring it to you what it will, for the seeing and the willingness will save you from much of the pain that must come to those who will not see and who are not willing—but even this pain will be good, for it is part of the unfoldment. Well, to get back to our subject, do you feel so very superior and 'good' now? Well, the lesson is: 'Condemn not'—'Let him that is without sin cast the first stone.' None of us is so very 'good.' And yet, all are on the upward path.
Let us live friends, one day at a time; doing the best we know how; sowing a word here and a deed there; let us not be self-righteous; let us not condemn; let us do our best, but give to every other man the same privilege; let us 'mind our own business;' let us cease to persecute; let us be filled with love, tolerance and compassion; let us see all as part of the All; let us see that each is doing the best he knows how, considering the stage of his unfoldment; let us see the Divine in the humblest, vilest and most ignorant person—it is there, it is there, hidden but pressing forward toward unfoldment; and, finally, 'let us be kind—let us be kind.'
This is the lesson of the electric light within the bulb, covered with layer after layer of the cloth. Take it with you—make it a part of yourself. And Peace will be yours!
A consideration of the above illustration will show you that Conscience is the voice of the Spirit as heard through the confining walls of the lower priciples of Man's nature. Or, to state in another way: Conscience is the result of man's past experience, growth and unfoldment, plus such light of the Spirit as is possible for him to perceive. Man in his unfoldment has profited by past experiences—has formed new ideals—has recognized certain needs of the growing soul—has felt new impulses arising within him, leading him to higher things—has recognized his relationship with other men and to the Whole. These things have accompanied the growth of the soul. And each stage of the soul's growth has given Man a higher conception of what is 'right'—has exacted a higher ideal on his part. And this highest ideal is what he feels to be 'right,' even though he does not always live up to it. The light of the Spirit illuminates this highest peak of ideality possible to him, and makes it stand out clearly to the soul as a point to be aimed at—to be climbed toward. This highest peak, thus illumined, is a goal for him to march toward. It is the highest thing that he is able to perceive. It is true that as he advances, the light mounts higher and shows him still higher peaks, the existence of which has not been suspected by him. When he attains to what now seems to be the highest possible point, he will see that he has merely gained the top of a foot-hill, while far above him, towering higher and higher, rise the peaks of real mountains, the topmost point being brightly illumined by the light of the sun of the Spirit. There are other intellingences whose task it is to surmount heights unseen by us—the goal of those far behind us (that is the highest peak seen by them) seems far beneath us, for we have left it behind long since. So we must understand these things—this state of affairs, if we would form a clear idea of the acts, ideals and 'conscience' of others. We must cease to condemn—our duty toward others is not to blame them for not having reached the heights that we have attained, but to send them a cheering message of hope and joy, and to help point out the way. This is what the Elder Brothers are doing for us—let us do the same for those behind us on the path.
In conclusion, we call to your attention the fact that Conscience is but one of the pillars supporting the edifice of Dharma. It is an important pillar, but not the only one. It is to be taken into most serious consideration, but it is not an infallible guide. It points out the highest we have grown to see, but the point seen by us is not necessarily the highest, nor must we rest content with what we see. That which is behind Conscience is Infallible and Absolute, but Conscience itself is Relative and Fallible, because of our lack of growth—because of the confining sheaths which prevent the light of the Spirit from shining upon our souls. But nevertheless, let us look toward that light, and follow it. Let us say in the words of the old familiar hymn of our childhood: "Lead kindly Light, amid the circling gloom Lead thou me on The night is dark, and I am far from home; Lead thou me on Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me. Lead thou me on."
The third pillar of Dharma is the theory of Utility, of which we have told you in our last lesson. Dharma acknowledges the value of Utility as a pillar, while seeing its weakness as a sole support for ethics. Human law, as set forth in statutes, laws, etc., rests almost entirely upon the basis of Utility, although some of the writers try to make it appear that it rests upon Divine command. The law is the result of man's endeavors to frame a code of conduct to fit the requirements of the race. Human law is a matter of evolution—it has grown, changed and unfolded from the