(52) So clear is the analogy that one has but to have his attention directed toward it to realize its truth and its proper application to the case before us. It is so clear that one, on learning it, cannot see why the promulgators of the "dual-mind" theories, and their commentators, can have failed to perceive the secret underlying the phenomena discovered by them and embodied in their various theories. Thompson J. Hudson, in his book "The Law of Psychic Phenomena," in which in 1893 he announced his celebrated theory of "the dual mind," came near to perceiving the secret hidden in the teaching of the ancient occultists, but his prejudices caused him to pass it by. In his statement, at the beginning of his second chapter of said book, he says: "The mystic jargon of the Hermetic philosophers discloses the same general idea," i.e., the general idea of the duality of mind, but he failed to follow up the promising lead, and thus lost the opportunity to complete his discovery—or rediscovery, for the duality of the mind's activities has been known to occultists for ages.

(51) Passing on to the Plane of Mind, we find that many of the discoveries of modern psychology tend to verify the Rosicrucian theory also. Modern psychologists are devoting much time and space to their presentations of the various theories and discussions of that "other mind" which they variously call the "subjective mind," the "subconscious mind," the "subliminal mind," etc., etc. In all of their theories, however, one point stands out prominently, i.e., the point that this "other mind" is subject to stimulating influences from the "conscious" or "objective" mind, and after being so subjected to the influence of stimulus of the latter the "other mind" becomes fertile and produces a wealth of ideas, thoughts, and actions. But so far none of the psychologists have even attempted to explain the nature of the influence or stimulus of the one mind upon the other. And here is where the Rosicrucian teachings are much needed, for the Rosicrucian recognizes and realizes at once the fact that the "other mind" is feminine, and the stimulating mind is masculine, and that the process is clearly one of fertilization followed by mental conception and generation.

(31) But if each of the two phases of the soul, as we have said, possesses memory, and memory is vested in the imaging faculty, there must be two such faculties. Now that is all very well as long as the two souls stand apart; but, when they are at one in us, what becomes of the two faculties, and in which of them is the imaging faculty vested?

If each soul has its own imaging faculty the images must in all cases be duplicated, since we cannot think that one faculty deals only with intellectual objects, and the other with objects of sense, a distinction which inevitably implies the co-existence in man of two life-principles utterly unrelated.

And if both orders of image act upon both orders of soul, what difference is there in the souls; and how does the fact escape our knowledge?

The answer is that, when the two souls chime each with each, the two imaging faculties no longer stand apart; the union is dominated by the more powerful of the faculties of the soul, and thus the image perceived is as one: the less powerful is like a shadow attending upon the dominant, like a minor light merging into a greater: when they are in conflict, in discord, the minor is distinctly apart, a self-standing thing- though its isolation is not perceived, for the simple reason that the separate being of the two souls escapes observation.

The two have run into a unity in which, yet, one is the loftier: this loftier knows all; when it breaks from the union, it retains some of the experiences of its companion, but dismisses others; thus we accept the talk of our less valued associates, but, on a change of company, we remember little from the first set and more from those in whom we recognize a higher quality.

(14) "While at work your thought is to be actually concentrated in it, undistracted by anything whatever irrelevant to the matter in hand—pounding away like a great engine, with giant power and perfect economy—no wear and tear of friction, or dislocation of parts owing to the working of different forces at the same time. Then when the work is finished, if there is no more occasion for the use of the machine, it must stop equally, absolutely—stop entirely—no worrying (as if a parcel of boys were allowed to play their devilments with a locomotive as soon as it was in the shed)—and the man must retire into that region of his consciousness where his true self dwells. I say that the power of the thought-machine itself is enormously increased by this faculty of letting it alone on the one hand, and of using it singly and with concentration on the other. It becomes a true tool, which a master-workman lays down when done with, but which only a bungler carries about with him all the time to show that he is the possessor of it." If the student will master the idea expressed in the above several quoted paragraphs, he will indeed become a Master of Mind. And if he will extend the idea to the field of his Emotions, and will put into practice there the same idea and method, he will also become a Master of his Emotions—an accomplishment of inestimable value. But, before doing either of these things he will find it necessary to come to a full realization of the fact that his Self—his real "I"—is a Something superior to and transcending both his Thought and his Emotions. He must enter into a vivid realization of the "I AM," before he may hope to be able to say "I Do" regarding these accomplishments. As the old Rosicrucian masters were wont to say: "When the 'I' knows itself to be the Self and Master, then only is it able to take its throne and enforce its will upon its subjects in the world of its thoughts, desires, feelings, and emotions." Not only may the enlightened "I" manifest its power along the lines above indicated, but it may also work its will in that region which popular modern psychology has chosen to call "The Sub-Conscious Mind." The latter is merely that great region of mind outside of the limits of the concentrated field of attention. In that great region a great part of the thinking of the average man is performed, the results being flashed into the field of his attention in a more or less haphazard way. Without going deeply into the subject, we would say here that the man who has grasped the reality and power of the "I" is able to issue positive commands to this part of his mental machinery, and not only cause it to perform the work of thought classification, induction and deduction, for him, but also to present the report of such work to his conscious attention at any specified time and place. The Masters of Mind relieve themselves of much of the drudgery of ordinary intellectual processes in this way, and obtain results logically perfect and ready for use, according to the measure of training and direction which they have been able to impose upon the aforesaid regions of their mind.

(6) It is quite difficult to describe clearly in words the actual distinction between the highest forms of animal consciousness, and the lowest forms of the self-consciousness of the human being, although the difference between the highest animal and the highest man in this respect is quite marked. Admitting the difficulty of the explanation, it may be said that while even in the case of the highest animal the consciousness is always directed outward , in even the lowest type of man there is at least a faint degree of the inward direction of consciousness. The animal always thinks of outside things, while even the primitive man occasionally thinks of himself —makes himself the object of his own thoughts, in at least the sense of considering his own feelings, ideas, etc., and comparing them with others previously had by him. Or again, there is no "inside world," or "something within," to the animal; while man always (at least in some degree) is aware of the "inside world," or the "something within" as distinguished from the "something without." A favorite illustration of the psychologists, employed by them to point out the distinction between the "simple consciousness" of the higher animal, and the "self consciousness" of the human being is stated by a writer as follows: "A horse standing out in the cold sleet and rain undoubtedly feels the discomfort, and possibly the pain, for we know by observations that the animals feel both. But the horse is not able to analyze his mental states and to wonder when his piaster will come out to him; or to think how cruel it is to keep him out of the warm stable; or to wonder whether he will be taken out in the cold again tomorrow; or to feel envious of other horses who are indoors; or to wonder why he is compelled to be out on cold nights, etc., etc.—just as a man would do under the same circumstances. He is aware of the discomfort, just as is the man and he would run home if he could, just as would the man. But he is not able to pity himself, nor to think about his individuality or his personality, as would the man—nor does he wonder whether such a life is worth living, after all. He 'knows,' but does not 'know that he knows,' as does the man. The animal cannot 'know himself.'" But we must not fall into the error of supposing that the primitive man, or even the less-developed individuals of modern civilization, possess this faculty of self-conscious to a high degree. On the contrary, with both of these types this form of consciousness may be said to exist merely in a "dawn state"—and yet the "dawn" is a distinct advance upon the darkness of the mental night. A modern psychologist says of the comparatively higher forms of self-consciousness: "Many persons never have more than a misty idea of such a mental attitude. They always take themselves for granted, and never turn the gaze inward." The development of the higher forms of self-consciousness may be noted in the gradual unfoldment of the mind of the young child—for on the mental, as well as on the physical plane, the young of the human being rapidly passes through and reproduces the stages of the evolution of its ancestral forms. At a certain stage of the mental evolution or development of the young child there comes a particular period at which the child seems to awaken to a dawning realization that it is an individual, instead of being merely a bunch of feelings and desires. Up to a certain point the young child speaks of itself in the third person, i.e., as "Johnny," "Mary," etc. Then all of a sudden it begins to employ the terms "I" or "Me" in speaking of itself—though it may make grammatical errors in using these pronouns, nevertheless, there is never any doubt left that the child knows just what they stand for: it knows "I am I." Some psychologists call attention to the fact that many children experience a feeling of something akin to terror when they first reach this sense of "I," or individuality. Some writers have testified to having felt a strange sense of Aloneness, and detachment from all other things, when this sense of individuality first burst upon them in early childhood. In some cases the fuller dawn of self-consciousness is accompanied by a newly developed bashfulness, shyness, or that more or less morbid state known by the common name "self conscious." With the faculty of introspection, there often comes the tendency to employ the same too freely, and thus to become morbid on the one hand, or else foolishly egotistical and vain on the other hand.

(24) Still higher in the scale we find certain species of plants manifesting true Psychoses, or acts pertaining to thought processes , although the latter are of a comparatively low order as compared to those manifested by the higher forms of animal life. With this class of manifestation the average student is not so well informed, and, therefore, it has been thought well to direct your attention in the following pages to these fascinating phenomena of plant-life. We think that a careful consideration of the facts now about to be presented to the student will bring to him a clear realization of the presence of actual conscious activity in the kingdom of the plants, and will cause him to accept the statement of that eminent authority, Professor Bieser, who has said: "While we believe that the intelligence of man, animals and plants is essentially the same in kind, we know that it differs enormously in degree and form. Even among men this degree of intelligence varies, but this is because some individuals by nature see but a little more clearly their needs than others, and live under more favorable circumstances—that is all!" Dr. J. E. Taylor, an authority on the subject of plant-psychology says: "Perhaps one reason why plants are usually denied consciousness and intelligence is because in the structure of even the highest developed species we find no specialized nervous track along which sensations may travel, or where they can be registered as in the case of the ganglia and brains of the higher animals. But it should be remembered that none of the creatures sub-kingdom of the Protozoa (the lowest of the grand divisions of the animal kingdom) possess nervous structures, whilst many of the next more highly organized animal sub-kingdom, the Coelenterata, have no trace, and the rest but a feeble development. Yet we do not deny these lowly organized animals a dim and diffused consciousness, or even the possibility of their structures being so modified that they can profit by experience, and thus develop that accumulated experience of their kind that we call 'instinct.'" Darwin, speaking of the wonderful sensitiveness of the root-tip of plants says: "It is hardly an exaggeration to say that the tip of the radicle thus endowed, and having the power of directing the movements of the adjoining parts, acts like the brain of one of the lower animals ; the brain being seated within the anterior end of the body, receiving impressions from the sense organs, and directing the general movements." Professor Cope says: "We can understand how by parasitism, or other means of getting a livelihood without exertion, the adoption of new and skillful movements would become unnecessary, and consciousness itself would be seldom aroused. Continued repose would be followed by subconsciousness, and later by unconsciousness.

(12) "Yet this is an absurd notion—for man, the heir of all the ages: hag ridden by the flimsy creatures of his own brain. If a pebble in our boots torments us, we expel it. We take off the boot and shake it out. And once the matter is fairly understood it is just as easy to expel an intruding and obnoxious thought from the mind. About this there ought to be no mistake, no two opinions. The thing is obvious, clear and unmistakable. It should be as easy to expel an obnoxious thought from the mind as it is to shake a stone out of your shoe; and till a man can do that it is just nonsense to talk about his ascendancy over Nature, and all the rest of it. He is a mere slave, and prey to the bat-winged phantoms that flit through the corridors of his own brain. Yet the weary and careworn faces that we meet by thousands; even among the affluent classes of civilization, testify only too clearly how seldom this mastery is obtained. How rare indeed to meet a man . How common rather to discover a creature hounded on by tyrant thoughts (or cares or desires), cowering, wincing under the lash—or perchance priding himself to run merrily in obedience to a driver that rattles the reins and persuades him that he is free—whom we cannot converse with in a careless tete-a-tete because that alien presence is always there, on the watch.

(4) A modern writer has well said that "Mind is the Livingness of Life," and, of course, Mind is naught but a term employed to indicate "states of consciousness." Even the average person implicitly testifies to the fact of the necessary presence of Consciousness in Life by his distinctions between the various forms of living things. The higher the manifestation of Consciousness in a living thing, the higher the degree of "Life" he attributes to it; and when the indications of Consciousness are lacking, he pronounces the thing "lifeless." The proof of conscious activity among mineral forms at once leads to the thought that "then minerals must be alive." Consciousness, in its essence, manifests as "the attribute of receiving impressions from outside stimuli, and the power to respond thereto;" and the student will at once recognize this attribute as the fundamental test of living substance.

(11) A well known writer has said of Man in this advanced stage: "If we are willing to believe in this mastery over the body, we must be prepared to believe in the mastery over our own inner thoughts and feelings. That a man should be a prey to any thought that chances to take possession of his mind is commonly among us assumed as unavoidable. It may be a matter of regret that he should be kept awake all night from anxiety as to the issue of a lawsuit on the morrow, but that he should have the power of determining whether he should be kept awake or not seems an extravagant demand. The image of an impending calamity is no doubt odious, but its very odiousness (we say) makes it haunt the mind all the more pertinaciously and it is useless to expel it.

(53) The "other mind" of the human individual may be regarded as a mental womb-in fact the ancients so styled it—in which is generated a wealth of mental offspring. It is a mine of latent possibilities of generation—the generation of mental progeny of all sorts and kinds. Its powers of mental generative energy are enormous. But it does not generate except under the stimulus of the "conscious mind" of its owner, or some other individual. The phenomena of Suggestion and Hypnotism are explainable under the Rosicrucian Theory of Mental Sex. A writer on this subject has said: "Suggestion and Hypnotism operate in the same way, viz., by the Masculine Principle projecting its vibrations toward the Feminine Principle in the mind of the other person, the latter taking the seed-thought and allowing it to develop into maturity when it is born on the plane of consciousness. The Masculine Principle in the mind of the person giving the suggestion directs a vibratory current toward the Feminine Principle in the mind of the person who is the object of the suggestions, and the latter accepts it according to natural laws, unless the will interposes an objection. The seed-thought thus lodged in the mind of the other person grows and develops and in time is regarded as the rightful mental offspring of the person, whereas it is really like the cuckoo's egg placed in the nest of the sparrow; and like the offspring of the cuckoo, it destroys the rightful offspring of the owner of the nest. The proper method is for the Masculine and Feminine Principles in the mind of a person to co-ordinate and to act harmoniously in conjunction with each other. But unfortunately the Masculine Principle in the mind of the average person is too lazy to act—the activities of the Will too slight—the consequence being that such persons are ruled almost entirely by the minds and wills of other persons, whom they allow to do their thinking and willing for them. The majority of persons are but mere shadows and echoes of other persons having stronger wills and minds than themselves. The strong men and women of the world invariably manifest the Masculine Principle of Will, and their strength depends materially upon this fact. Instead of living by the impressions made upon their minds by others, they dominate their own minds by means of their own will, obtaining the kind of thoughts desired; and moreover they dominate the minds of others, likewise, in the same manner. Look at the strong people, see how they manage to implant their seed-thoughts in the minds of the masses of the people, thus causing the latter to think thoughts in accordance with the desires and wills of the strong individuals. This is why the masses of the people are such sheeplike creatures, never originating an idea of their own, nor using their own powers of mental activity. The manifestation of Mental Sex may be noticed all around us in our daily life. The magnetic persons are those who are able to use the Masculine Mental Principle in the direction of impressing their ideas upon others. The actor who makes people weep or cry as he wills is employing this principle, more or less unconsciously. So is the successful orator, statesman, preacher, writer, or other person who is before the public. The peculiar influence exerted by Mme persons over others is explainable in this way— the operation of Mental Sex activity in the form of vibratory mental currents. Here we may find the secret of personal magnetism, personal influence, fascination, etc." The Principle of Sex manifests and operates also on the Spiritual Plane of being, according to its characteristic principles, and its results are spiritual generation and regeneration. We regret that we are not permitted to go deeply into this phase of the subject in this book, but a detailed consideration of the operation of Sex on this high plane would be contrary to the interests of the best in occultism, and would invite a misuse of power on the part of unprincipled persons who fail to understand the evil consequences to themselves coming as a reaction following actions of this kind. The true student, however, by using his power of reasoning by analogy, doubtless will be able to work out some of the problems concerned with the phase of the question thus mentioned. Such will find the secret in the old axiom: "As above, so below; as below, so above." The further the student penetrates in his investigations along the lines of the physical, the mental, and the spiritual, the more will he become convinced of the truth of the ancient occult axiom that "Sex is omnipresent and all-pervasive in the universe. All creation is generation, and all generation proceeds from Sex." Finis

(7) A writer well says of this particular state of newly awakened consciousness: "Although this feeling of separateness and apartness grows less acute as the man grows older, yet it is always present to a greater or less degree until a still higher stage is reached, when it disappears. And this self-conscious stage is painful to many. Many find themselves entangled in a mass of mental states which one thinks is himself, or inextricably bound up with himself, and the struggle between the awakening Ego and its confining sheaths is very painful in some cases. And this becomes more painful as the individual advances in self-consciousness and nears the end at which he is to find deliverance. Man eats of the Tree of Knowledge and begins to suffer, and is driven out of the garden of Eden of the child consciousness in which the individual has lived like the birds, concerning not himself about the affairs of his higher nature. Man pays dearly for the gift of Self-Consciousness—yet it is worth it all, for finally he reaches heights of higher consciousness and is delivered from his burden." With the dawning awareness of one's own mental states, one comes to the realization that other human beings possess similar states, and one begins to speculate and reason about the working of these states in others. Then comes the desire to communicate one's ideas to the mind of the others, and to appeal to his feelings or reason. All this promotes the development of Intellect and logical thought, which is a marked characteristic of evolving human consciousness. Man begins to seek for an answer to the many "whys" which are presenting themselves to him, and he seeks to reason from the known to the unknown. He proceeds to invent appliances conducive to the accomplishment of things which lie desires. He harnesses his Intellect to the chariot of his Desires, and drives it along by command of Will, the chariot-driver.

(19) Are we to think of the indivisible phase of the soul and the divided as making one thing in a coalescence; or is the indivisible in a place of its own and under conditions of its own, the divisible being a sequent upon it, a separate part of it, as distinct as the reasoning phase is from the unreasoning?

The answer to this question will emerge when we make plain the nature and function to be attributed to each.

The indivisible phase is mentioned without further qualification; but not so the divisible; "that soul" we read "which becomes divisible in bodies"- and even this last is presented as becoming partible, not as being so once for all.

"In bodies": we must then, satisfy ourselves as to what form of soul is required to produce life in the corporeal, and what there must be of soul present throughout such a body, such a completed organism.

Now, every sensitive power- by the fact of being sensitive throughout- tends to become a thing of parts: present at every distinct point of sensitiveness, it may be thought of as divided. In the sense, however, that it is present as a whole at every such point, it cannot be said to be wholly divided; it "becomes divisible in body." We may be told that no such partition is implied in any sensations but those of touch; but this is not so; where the participant is body that divisibility in the sensitive agent will be a condition of all other sensations, though in less degree than in the case of touch. Similarly the vegetative function in the soul, with that of growth, indicates divisibility; and, admitting such locations as that of desire at the liver and emotional activity at the heart, we have the same result. It is to be noted, however, as regards these sensations, that the body may possibly not experience them as a fact of the conjoint thing but in another mode, as rising within some one of the elements of which it has been participant : reasoning and the act of the intellect, for instance, are not vested in the body; their task is not accomplished by means of the body which in fact is detrimental to any thinking on which it is allowed to intrude.

Thus the indivisible phase of the soul stands distinct from the divisible; they do not form a unity, but, on the contrary, a whole consisting of parts, each part a self-standing thing having its own peculiar virtue. None the less, if that phase which becomes divisible in body holds indivisibility by communication from the superior power, then this one same thing may be at once indivisible and divisible; it will be, as it were, a blend, a thing made up of its own divisible self with, in addition, the quality that it derives from above itself.