disciple,
knowledge. That I am not writing even now,
so that all who run may read, is owing to the
fact that super-nature prevents this by its own
immutable laws.

The four rules which I have written down
for those in the West who wish to study them,
are as I have said, written in the ante-chamber
of every living Brotherhood; I may add more,
in the ante-chamber of every living or dead
Brotherhood, or Order yet to be formed. When
I speak of a Brotherhood or an Order, I do not
mean an arbitrary constitution made by scholiasts
and intellectualists; I mean an actual
fact in super-nature, a stage of development
towards the absolute God or Good. During
this development the disciple encounters harmony,
pure knowledge, pure truth, in different
degrees, and, as he enters these degrees, he
finds himself becoming part of what might be
roughly described as a layer of human consciousness.
He encounters his equals, men of
his own selfless character, and with them his
association becomes permanent and indissoluble,
because founded on a vital likeness of
nature. To them he becomes pledged by such
vows as need no utterance or framework in
ordinary words. This is one aspect of what I
mean by a Brotherhood.

If the first rules are conquered, the disciple
finds himself standing at the threshold. Then
if his will is sufficiently resolute his power of
speech comes; a two-fold power. For, as he
advances now, he finds himself entering into
a state of blossoming, where every bud that
opens throws out its several rays or petals. If
he is to exercise his new gift, he must use it
in its two-fold character. He finds in himself
the power to speak in the presence of the
masters; in other words, he has the right to
demand contact with the divinest element of
that state of consciousness into which he has
entered. But he finds himself compelled, by
the nature of his position, to act in two ways
at the same time. He cannot send his voice up
to the heights where sit the gods till he has
penetrated to the deep places where their light
shines not at all. He has come within the grip
of an iron law. If he demands to become a
neophyte, he at once becomes a servant. Yet
his service is sublime, if only from the character
of those who share it. For the masters
are also servants; they serve and claim their
reward afterwards. Part of their service is to
let their knowledge touch him; his first act of
service is to give some of that knowledge to