ty in unity, and the expression in countless different
forms and shapes of the one fundamental reality, spirit. We ourselves
are comprehended in this definition, being part of this fundamental
spirit, and claiming thereby our divinity. Music also, as a part of
life, is subject to the same explanation: and thus the spirit of Music
is a real thing. The Muses of a Classical day typified this same idea of
the spirit behind the form. Indeed man, spiritual as at base he is, can
never rest finally satisfied with the outer semblance and form: just as
the body craves sustenance, so does the spiritual part of him. No amount
of physical satisfaction will ever allay the heart-hunger, and no flood
of Rationalist thinking will ever put an end to the instinctive search
after the Unknown God.

In spiritual law, as in natural law, nothing is ever lost. We study the
physical, and by analogy we may learn much of the spiritual: we have not
been left without guidance in the maze of life. But the first essential
is that we should study those things which are open to us, and through
them learn something of the wisdom that otherwise lies hidden. Nothing
is lost: we see, as the hymn puts it, "change and decay," but the decay
is only change of form, and death, in the form of extinction, simply
does not exist. Even thoughts, transient and gossamer as they may
appear, do their work in our brains and leave their permanent impress
with us. Occultists further assure us that they are recorded in the
eternal archives. It is said that there are the Akashic Records, in some
subtle way which we cannot pretend to understand, imprinted in the
ether. "This primary substance is of exquisite fineness and is so
sensitive that the slightest vibration... registers an indelible
impression upon it."[7] If this be so, then here is the story of all
that has ever been, and all that is. In our own subconscious minds we
know full well that there is such a perfect and complete record as to
constitute an individual Judgment Book within of unimpeachable accuracy,
and there seems to be nothing intrinsically unreasonable in the idea
that there should be something of the kind on a world scale. Monumental
histories of the traditional lost continent of Atlantis have been
compiled, professedly from this source, and we find an interesting
inkling of the same idea in the way in which objects will sometimes
impress sensitive folk with their own history. Things sometimes have a
"fee