n, then all is blurred, the windows
are darkened, the light is useless. This is as
literal a fact as that if a man, at the edge of a
precipice, loses his nerve through some sudden
emotion he will certainly fall. The poise of the
body, the balance, must be preserved, not only
in dangerous places, but even on the level
ground, and with all the assistance Nature
gives us by the law of gravitation. So it is with
the soul, it is the link between the outer body
and the starry spirit beyond; the divine spark
dwells in the still place where no convulsion of
Nature can shake the air; this is so always. But
the soul may lose its hold on that, its knowledge
of it, even though these two are part
of one whole; and it is by emotion, by
sensation, that this hold is loosed. To suffer
either pleasure or pain, causes a vivid vibration
which is, to the consciousness of man,
life. Now this sensibility does not lessen when
the disciple enters upon his training; it
increases. It is the first test of his strength;
he must suffer, must enjoy or endure, more
keenly than other men, while yet he has taken
on him a duty which does not exist for other
men, that of not allowing his suffering to shake
him from his fixed purpose. He has, in fact,
at the first step to take himself steadily in
hand and put the bit into his own mouth;
no one else can do it for him.

The first four aphorisms of "Light on the
Path," refer entirely to astral development.
This development must be accomplished to a
certain extent--that is to say it must be fully
entered upon--before the remainder of the
book is really intelligible except to the intellect;
in fact, before it can be read as a practical,
not a metaphysical treatise.

In one of the great mystic Brotherhoods,
there are four ceremonies, that take place early
in the year, which practically illustrate and
elucidate these aphorisms. They are ceremonies
in which only novices take part, for they
are simply services of the threshold. But it
will show how serious a thing it is to become
a disciple, when it is understood that these
are all ceremonies of sacrifice. The first one
is this of which I have been speaking. The
keenest enjoyment, the bitterest pain, the
anguish of loss and despair, are brought to
bear on the trembling soul, which has not yet
found light in the darkness, which is helpless
as a blind man is, and until these shocks can
be endured without loss of equilibrium the
astral senses must r