of the
higher vision, but under these circumstances it is apt to be elusive and
fragmentary. The condition of any permanent influx is that the
attunement should be habitually and continuously lofty. When this
condition is at length reached we are not so very far from that "prayer
without ceasing," which most truly means "the practice of the presence
of God."

The avenue of inspiration is the subconscious part of the mind, that
part of us which in fact constitutes the greater self. In ordinary life
this department of mind is more or less shielded by the consciousness.
It would retain the permanent impress of every idea it came across, were
it not that the consciousness off-hand and summarily rejects a number of
impressions which might otherwise prove detrimental. One man calls
another a fool, but this one knows very well that he is nothing of the
kind, and so the idea carries very little weight in its record on the
subconscious. On the other hand, if there were no protective mechanism
of this nature, the subconscious might very well accept the statement
and believe that its owner certainly was the fool he had been dubbed.
The effect, therefore, of consciousness is thus to limit and reduce
this sensitiveness and susceptibility of the subconscious part of mind.

As the consciousness passes out of action, as in dream states, brown
studies, and in the induced sleep of hypnosis, this sensitiveness and
activity of the subconscious gradually emerges. The normal sleep, or as
Iamblichus calls it--"The night-time of the body"--is, to continue his
remark, "the day-time of the soul." Thus it is so often in the Bible
stories that we find the phrase--"The Lord--or the Angel of the
Lord--appeared, in a dream." These waves of thought and Inspiration are
continually lapping the margin of our subconscious selves, both by day
and by night, leaving the dream-traces of their impress as the ripple
leaves its marks upon the sand. It is the connection between this
under-mind and the consciousness that is so frequently at fault, so that
we remain unaware of the tidings. Usually the consciousness is kept so
busily engaged that it never has a minute to itself, and so peace,
quiet, and receptivity are unknown. The subconscious tries hard to get
in its modest word occasionally and edgeways, but the consciousness
rarely stops talking: the whole business is one-sided. Plenty of
material goes from the consciousness to the subconscious, but
comparati