EXISTENCE, as we know it, is full of sorrow. To mention only one minor point: every man is a condemned criminal, only he does not know the date of his execution.

This is unpleasant for every man. Consequently, every man does everything possible to postpone the date, and would sacrifice anything that he has if he could reverse the sentence.

Practically all religions and all philosophies have started thus crudely, by promising their adherents some such reward as immortality.

No religion has failed hitherto by not promising enough; the present breaking up of all religions is due to the fact that people have asked to see the securities.

Men have even renounced the important material advantages which a well-organized religion may confer upon a State, rather than acquiesce in fraud or falsehood, or even in any system which, if not proved guilty, is at least unable to demonstrate its innocence.

Being more or less bankrupt, the best thing that we can do is to attack the problem afresh without preconceived ideas.

Let us begin by doubting every statement. Let us find a way of subjecting every statement to the test of experiment.

Is there any truth at all in the claims of various religions? Let us examine the question. Our original difficulty will be due to the enormous wealth of our material.

To enter into a critical examination of all systems would be an unending task; the cloud of witnesses is too great.

Now, each religion is equally positive; and each demands faith. This we refuse in the absence of positive proof. But we may usefully inquire whether there is not any one thing upon which all religions have agreed: for, if so, it seems possible that it may be worthy of really thorough consideration.

It is certainly not to be found in dogma.

Even so simple an idea as that of a supreme and eternal being is denied by a third of the human race. Legends of miracle are perhaps universal, but these, in the absence of demonstrative proof, are repugnant to common sense.

But what of the origin of religions? How is it that unproved assertion has so frequently compelled the assent of all classes of mankind?

Is not this a miracle? There is, however, one form of miracle which certainly happens: the influence of the genius.

There is no known analogy in Nature. One cannot even think of a "super-dog" transforming the world of dogs, whereas in the history of mankind this happens with regularity and frequency.

Now here are three "super-men," all at loggerheads. What is there in common between Christ, Buddha, and Mohammed?

Is there any one point upon which all three are in accord? No point of doctrine, no point of ethics, no theory of a "hereafter" do they share, and yet in the history of their lives we find one identity amid many diversities.

Buddha was born a Prince and died a beggar.

Mohammed was born a beggar and died a Prince. Christ remained obscure until many years after his death. Elaborate lives of each have been written by devotees, and there is one thing common to all three: an omission.

We hear nothing of Christ between the ages of twelve and thirty. Mohammed disappeared into a cave.

Buddha left his palace and went for a long while into the desert. Each of them, perfectly silent up to the time of the disappearance, came back and immediately began to preach a new law.

This is so curious that it leads us to inquire whether the histories of other great teachers contradict or confirm.

Moses led a quiet life until his slaying of the Egyptian. He then flees into the land of Midian, and we hear nothing of what he did there, yet immediately on his return, he turns the whole place upside down.

Later on, too, he absents himself on Mount Sinai for a few days and comes back with the Tables of the Law in his hand.

St. Paul (again), after his adventure on the road to Damascus, goes into the desert of Arabia for many years, and on his return overturns the Roman Empire.

Even in the legends of savages we find the same thing universal; somebody who is nobody in particular goes away for a longer or shorter period, and comes back as the "great medicine man"; but nobody ever knows exactly what happened to him.

Making every possible deduction for fable and myth, we get this one coincidence. A nobody goes away, and comes back a somebody.

This is not to be explained in any of the ordinary ways. There is not the smallest ground for the contention that these were from the start exceptional men.

Mohammed would hardly have driven a camel until he was thirty-five years old if he had possessed any talent or ambition.

St. Paul had much original talent; but he is the least of the five. Nor do they seem to have possessed any of the usual materials of power, such as rank, fortune, or influence.

Moses was rather a big man in Egypt when he left; he came back as a mere stranger.

Christ had not been to China and married the Emperor's daughter. Mohammed had not been acquiring wealth and drilling soldiers.

Buddha had not been consolidating any religious organizations. St. Paul had not been intriguing with an ambitious general.

Each came back poor; each came back alone. What was the nature of their power? What happened to them in their absence?

History will not help us to solve the problem,
for history is silent. We have only the accounts given by the men
themselves.

It would be very remarkable should we find
that these accounts agree. Of the great teachers we have mentioned, Christ
is silent; the other four tell us something; some more, some less.

Buddha goes into details too elaborate to
enter upon in this place; but the gist of it is that in one way or another he got hold
of the secret force of the World and mastered it.

Of St. Paul's experiences, we have nothing
but a casual allusion to his having been "caught up into Heaven, and seen and heard things
of which it was not lawful to speak." Mohammed speaks crudely of his having been
"visited by the Angel Gabriel," who communicated things from "God." Moses says that he "beheld God." Diverse as these statements are at first sight,
all agree in announcing an experience of the class which fifty years ago would have been
called supernatural, today may be called spiritual, and fifty years hence will have
a proper name based on an understanding of the phenomenon which occurred.

Theorists have not been at a loss to explain;
but they differ. The Mohammedan insists that God is, and did
really send Gabriel with messages for Mohammed: but all others contradict him.

And from the nature of the case proof is impossible. The lack of proof has been so severely felt
by Christianity (and in a much less degree by Islam) that fresh miracles have been manufactured
almost daily to support the tottering structure.

Modern thought, rejecting these miracles,
has adopted theories involving epilepsy and madness.

As if organization could spring from disorganization! Even if epilepsy were the cause of these great
movements which have caused civilization after civilization to arise from barbarism, it would
merely form an argument for cultivating epilepsy.

Of course, great men will never conform with
the standards of little men, and he whose mission it is to overturn the world can hardly
escape the title of revolutionary.

The fads of a period always furnish terms
of abuse.

The fad of Caiaphas was Judaism, and the Pharisees
told him that Christ "blasphemed." Pilate was a loyal Roman; to him they accused
Christ of "sedition." When the Pope had all power, it was necessary
to prove an enemy a "heretic." Advancing today towards a medical oligarchy,
we try to prove that our opponents are "insane," and (in a Puritan country) to attack their
"morals." We should then avoid all rhetoric, and try
to investigate with perfect freedom from bias the phenomena which occurred to these great
leaders of mankind.

There is no difficulty in our assuming that
these men themselves did not understand clearly what happened to them. The only one who explains his system thoroughly
is Buddha, and Buddha is the only one that is not dogmatic.

We may also suppose that the others thought
it inadvisable to explain too clearly to their followers; St. Paul evidently took this line.

Our best document will therefore be the system
of Buddha; but it is so complex that no immediate summary will serve; and in the case of the
others, if we have not the accounts of the Masters, we have those of their immediate
followers.

footnote: We have the documents of Hinduism,
and of two Chinese systems. But Hinduism has no single founder.

Lao Tze is one of our best examples of a man
who went away and had a mysterious experience; perhaps the best of all examples, as his system
is the best of all systems.

We have full details of his method of training
in the Khang Kang King, and elsewhere. But it is so little known that we shall omit
consideration of it in this popular account.

The methods advised by all these people have a startling resemblance to one another. They recommend "virtue" (of various kinds), solitude, absence of excitement, moderation in diet, and finally a practice which some call prayer and some call meditation.

(The former four may turn out on examination to be merely conditions favorable to the last.

) On investigating what is meant by these two things, we find that they are only one. For what is the state of either prayer or meditation?

It is the restraining of the mind to a single act, state, or thought. If we sit down quietly and investigate the contents of our minds, we shall find that even at the best of times the principal characteristics are wandering and distraction.

Anyone who has had anything to do with children and untrained minds generally knows that fixity of attention is never present, even when there is a large amount of intelligence and goodwill.

If then we, with our well-trained minds, determine to control this wandering thought, we shall find that we are fairly well able to keep the thoughts running in a narrow channel, each thought linked to the last in a perfectly rational manner; but if we attempt to stop this current we shall find that, so far from succeeding, we shall merely break down the banks of the channel.

The mind will overflow, and instead of a chain of thought we shall have a chaos of confused images. This mental activity is so great, and seems so natural, that it is hard to understand how anyone first got the idea that it was a weakness and a nuisance.

Perhaps it was because in the more natural practice of "devotion," people found that their thoughts interfered.

In any case calm and self-control are to be preferred to restlessness. Darwin in his study presents a marked contrast with a monkey in a cage.

Generally speaking, the larger and stronger and more highly developed any animal is, the less does it move about, and such movements as it does make are slow and purposeful.

Compare the ceaseless activity of bacteria with the reasoned steadiness of the beaver; and except in the few animal communities which are organized, such as bees, the greatest intelligence is shown by those of solitary habits.

This is so true of man that psychologists have been obliged to treat of the mental state of crowds as if it were totally different in quality from any state possible to an individual.

It is by freeing the mind from external influences, whether casual or emotional, that it obtains power to see somewhat of the truth of things.

Let us, however, continue our practice. Let us determine to be masters of our minds.

We shall then soon find what conditions are favorable. There will be no need to persuade ourselves at great length that all external influences are likely to be unfavorable.

New faces, new scenes will disturb us; even the new habits of life which we undertake for this very purpose of controlling the mind will at first tend to upset it.

Still, we must give up our habit of eating too much, and follow the natural rule of only eating when we are hungry, listening to the interior voice which tells us that we have had enough.

We have determined to control our minds, and so our time for meditation must take precedence of other hours. We must fix times for practice, and make our feasts movable.

In order to test our progress, for we shall find that (as in all physiological matters) meditation cannot be gauged by the feelings, we shall have a notebook and pencil, and we shall also have a watch.

We shall then endeavor to count how often, during the first quarter of an hour, the mind breaks away from the idea upon which it is determined to concentrate.

We shall practice this twice daily; and, as we go, experience will teach us which conditions are favorable and which are not.

Before we have been doing this for very long
we are almost certain to get impatient, and we shall find that we have to practice many
other things in order to assist us in our work.

New problems will constantly arise which must
be faced and solved.

For instance, we shall most assuredly find
that we fidget. We shall discover that no position is comfortable,
though we never noticed it before in all our lives!

This difficulty has been solved by a practice
called "Asana," which will be described later on. Memories of the events of the day will bother
us; we must arrange our day so that it is absolutely uneventful.

Our minds will recall to us our hopes and
fears, our loves and hates, our ambitions, our envies, and many other emotions.

All these must be cut off. We must have absolutely no interest in life
but that of quieting our minds.

This is the object of the usual monastic vow
of poverty, chastity, and obedience. If you have no property, you have no care,
nothing to be anxious about; with chastity no other person to be anxious about, and to
distract your attention; while if you are vowed to obedience, the question of what you
are to do no longer frets: you simply obey.

There are a great many other obstacles which
you will discover as you go on, and it is proposed to deal with these in turn.

But let us pass by for the moment to the point
where you are nearing success. In your early struggles you may have found
it difficult to conquer sleep; and you may have wandered so far from the object of your
meditations without noticing it, that the meditation has really been broken; but much
later on, when you feel that you are "getting quite good," you will be shocked to find a
complete oblivion of yourself and your surroundings.

I must have been to sleep!" or else "What on earth was I meditating upon?"
or even "What was I doing?" "Where am I?

" "Who am I?" or a mere wordless bewilderment
may daze you. This may alarm you, and your alarm will not
be lessened when you come to full consciousness, and reflect that you have actually forgotten
who you are and what you are doing!

This is only one of many adventures that may
come to you; but it is one of the most typical.

By this time your hours of meditation will
fill most of the day, and you will probably be constantly having presentiments that something
is about to happen.

You may also be terrified with the idea that
your brain may be giving way; but you will have learned the real symptoms of mental fatigue,
and you will be careful to avoid them.

They must be very carefully distinguished
from idleness! At certain times you will feel as if there
were a contest between the will and the mind; at other times you may feel as if they were
in harmony; but there is a third state, to be distinguished from the latter feeling.

It is the certain sign of near success, the
view-halloo. This is when the mind runs naturally towards
the object chosen, not as if in obedience to the will of the owner of the mind, but
as if directed by nothing at all, or by something impersonal; as if it were falling by its own
weight, and not being pushed down.

Almost always, the moment that one becomes
conscious of this, it stops; and the dreary old struggle between the cowboy will and the
buckjumper mind begins again.

Like every other physiological process, consciousness
of it implies disorder or disease. In analyzing the nature of this work of controlling
the mind, the student will appreciate without trouble the fact that two things are involved
-- the person seeing and the thing seen -- the person knowing and the thing known; and he
will come to regard this as the necessary condition of all consciousness.

We are too accustomed to assume to be facts
things about which we have no real right even to guess.

We assume, for example, that the unconscious
is the torpid; and yet nothing is more certain than that bodily organs which are functioning
well do so in silence.

The best sleep is dreamless. Even in the case of games of skill our very
best strokes are followed by the thought, "I don't know how I did it;" and we cannot
repeat those strokes at will.

The moment we begin to think consciously about
a stroke we get "nervous," and are lost.

In fact, there are three main classes of stroke:
the bad stroke, which we associate, and rightly, with wandering attention; the good stroke
which we associate, and rightly, with fixed attention; and the perfect stroke, which we
do not understand, but which is really caused by the habit of fixity of attention having
become independent of the will, and thus enabled to act freely of its own accord.

This is the same phenomenon referred to above
as being a good sign. Finally something happens whose nature may
form the subject of a further discussion later on.

For the moment let it suffice to say that
this consciousness of the Ego and the non-Ego, the seer and the thing seen, the knower and
the thing known, is blotted out.

There is usually an intense light, an intense
sound, and a feeling of such overwhelming bliss that the resources of language have
been exhausted again and again in the attempt to describe it.

Aleister Crowley Reads 'Magick, Liber ABA, Book 4 - Part I - Introduction' (1929) [AI Voice]

The Great Beast Reads

Religions and philosophies have historically promised immortality, but their decline is due to a lack of demonstrable proof.

Great teachers throughout history, like Buddha, Mohammed, and Christ, share a common experience of disappearing and returning with a new law or profound wisdom, suggesting a hidden source of energy accessible through specific practices.

Controlling the mind through practices like meditation, solitude, and moderation can lead to a state where the distinction between the self and the external world dissolves, resulting in a powerful experience that has influenced the founding of major religions.

Human existence is fundamentally marked by sorrow, a primary example being that **every individual is a condemned criminal unaware of their execution date**. This inherent unpleasantness drives people to do everything possible to postpone death, willing to sacrifice anything to reverse this sentence.

Historically, religions and philosophies have capitalized on this fear by **promising adherents rewards like immortality**. However, the current decline of religions stems from people demanding verifiable proof for these promises, rather than accepting unsubstantiated claims.

Many have even forsaken the tangible benefits of organized religion for the state, **preferring to reject fraud or systems that cannot demonstrate their innocence**. Given this intellectual bankruptcy, the path forward is to approach the problem without preconceived notions, doubting every statement, and subjecting all claims to experimental verification.

Searching for Universal Truths in Religion

Investigating the truth claims of various religions presents a challenge due to the sheer volume of material. A critical examination of all systems would be an unending task. While **each religion is equally positive and demands faith, we refuse this in the absence of positive proof**.

Instead, it is productive to **inquire if there is any single point upon which all religions agree**, as such a consensus might warrant thorough consideration. Dogma, even the simple idea of a supreme being, is not universal, as a third of humanity denies it. Legends of miracles are widespread, yet they are repugnant to common sense without demonstrative proof.

The Phenomenon of Genius and Its Mysterious Origin

The origin of religions, where unproven assertions gain widespread assent, itself seems miraculous. However, one form of miracle that certainly occurs is **the influence of genius, or the "super-man"**. Unlike nature, where a "super-dog" doesn't transform the world of dogs, human history regularly shows individuals profoundly altering societies.

Examining figures like Christ, Buddha, and Mohammed, despite their differences in doctrine, ethics, or theories of the afterlife, a striking commonality emerges in their life histories: **a significant period of omission or disappearance**. Buddha left his palace for the desert, Mohammed retreated to a cave, and Christ's life between twelve and thirty remains undocumented. All returned from these periods of silence to immediately preach new laws.

This pattern extends to other great teachers, like Moses, who fled to Midian before returning to turn his world "upside down," or St. Paul, who spent years in the Arabian desert after his Damascus experience before overturning the Roman Empire. Even in savage legends, a nobody goes away and returns as a "great medicine man," with **the exact nature of their transformation remaining unknown**.

This transformation, where a "nobody goes away, and comes back a somebody," cannot be explained by ordinary means. There is no evidence these individuals were exceptional from the start; Mohammed, for instance, drove a camel until he was thirty-five. **They possessed none of the usual materials of power**—rank, fortune, or influence—and returned poor and alone. This raises the critical question: What was the nature of their power, and what happened to them during their absence?

History offers no solution to this mystery, as it remains silent. We are left only with the accounts of the individuals themselves. While Christ is silent on his experience, **Buddha, St. Paul, Mohammed, and Moses offer accounts of profound, often mystical, experiences**. Buddha described mastering the world's secret force, St. Paul spoke of being "caught up into Heaven," Mohammed of being "visited by the Angel Gabriel," and Moses of "beholding God." Though initially diverse, these accounts converge on an experience that would have been called supernatural, is now termed spiritual, and will someday have a proper name based on scientific understanding.

Theorists have attempted explanations, but they differ widely. The Mohammedan attributes it to a divine message, while others contradict this. **The absence of proof has plagued Christianity and Islam, leading to fabricated miracles to sustain their structures**. Modern thought, rejecting miracles, often defaults to theories of epilepsy or madness. However, it's illogical to assume organization and civilization could spring from disorganization. Great men, whose mission is to overturn the world, will always be viewed as revolutionaries by the standards of "little men," and their actions will be labeled using the fads and terms of abuse prevalent in their time, such as "blasphemy," "sedition," or "insanity."

It's plausible these individuals themselves did not fully comprehend their experiences. Buddha, being the only non-dogmatic one, offers the most thorough explanation of his system. The others may have deemed it inadvisable to explain too clearly to their followers. Thus, **Buddha's system remains our best document**, though its complexity prevents a simple summary. For others, we rely on the accounts of their immediate followers.

The methods advocated by these various figures, including Hinduism and Chinese systems, show a **startling resemblance: virtue, solitude, absence of excitement, moderation in diet, and finally, a practice variously called prayer or meditation**. The first four may simply be conditions conducive to the last two, which upon investigation are revealed to be the same: the restraining of the mind to a single act, state, or thought.

The Practice of Mind Control: Meditation and Its Obstacles

Examining the mind reveals that its principal characteristics are wandering and distraction, even in trained individuals. When attempting to control this, **the mind can be kept in a narrow, rational channel, but trying to stop the current altogether results in mental chaos**. This ceaseless mental activity seems natural, making it difficult to understand why it was ever considered a weakness. However, calm and self-control are preferable to restlessness, as exemplified by the contrast between a thoughtful Darwin and an agitated monkey.

The process of mind control, or meditation, requires freeing the mind from external influences to attain truth. To achieve this mastery, **we must establish favorable conditions**. New faces, scenes, or even new habits designed for mental control can be disturbing. It is essential to give up overeating, only eating when truly hungry, and similarly, to manage sleep, ensuring that meditation time takes precedence.

To gauge progress, as meditation's effects are not immediately felt, a notebook, pencil, and watch are necessary. The goal is to **count how often the mind breaks concentration within a fixed period**, practicing twice daily to learn favorable conditions. Impatience is inevitable, leading to the discovery of other necessary practices.

New problems constantly arise, such as fidgeting, which is addressed by practices like "Asana." Memories of daily events, hopes, fears, loves, hates, ambitions, and envies must be cut off. **The monastic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience are designed precisely for this purpose**: to eliminate external cares, distractions, and the anxieties of choice, allowing for complete focus on quieting the mind.

Signs of Progress and the Nature of Consciousness

As one nears success in meditation, initial struggles with sleep and unnoticed distraction may give way to **a shocking state of complete oblivion of self and surroundings**. This might feel like sleep or bewilderment, even forgetting one's identity. This experience, though alarming, is typical of the many adventures on this path.

During this phase, meditation may occupy most of the day, accompanied by presentiments and fears of mental breakdown, which must be distinguished from idleness. A crucial sign of nearing success is when **the mind runs naturally towards its chosen object, not as if coerced by will, but as if falling by its own weight**. This state, often interrupted by consciousness of it, marks a profound shift.

Analyzing mind control reveals two essential components of all consciousness: **the person seeing and the thing seen; the knower and the thing known**. We often mistakenly assume the unconscious is torpid, yet well-functioning bodily organs operate silently, and the best sleep is dreamless. In skills, the "perfect stroke" is achieved when fixed attention becomes independent of will, acting freely on its own accord—a phenomenon akin to the mind's natural flow in deep meditation.

The Critical Phenomenon: Union of Subject and Object

Finally, a critical phenomenon occurs where **the consciousness of the Ego and non-Ego, the seer and the seen, the knower and the known, is blotted out**. This is typically accompanied by intense light, sound, and overwhelming bliss, which has often been described in language that exhausts its resources.

This experience is profoundly vivid and tremendous, posing a grave danger of losing all sense of proportion, as it dwarfs all other life events. While accurate in stating that all human life pales in comparison, people often err by concluding that because it transcends the terrestrial, it must be celestial. Without evidence, they assume it aligns with their preconceived notions of heaven. For example, a similar vision was attributed to Vishnu in the Bhagavadgita, and Anna Kingsford, despite her limitations, experienced an almost identical vision, terming the divine figure "Adonai" or "Maria." **Such experiences were instrumental in making Theosophy possible, and consequently, in arousing global interest in similar matters**.

This phenomenon sheds light on Mohammed's experience, where, despite his ignorance, the power of his mental phenomenon led him to connect it with the story of "Annunciation," and declare that "Gabriel appeared to me." **This vision, in spite of his misconception, empowered him to persist through persecution and found a religion** to which a significant portion of humanity still belongs.

Christianity exhibits the same pattern. Jesus, raised on Old Testament fables, **attributed his experiences to "Jehovah," despite the stark contrast between his gentle spirit and the violent descriptions of that deity**. Similarly, Joan of Arc's visions were Christian, yet she, like the others, derived from them the force to achieve great deeds.

While it's true that not everyone who "sees God" does great things, as the majority remain silent, this silence might signify strength rather than weakness. Perhaps the "great" men are actually humanity's failures, and it's only an unbalanced mind that desires to alter anything. However, some find even heaven intolerable if any being doesn't share its joy, exemplified by **Gotama Buddha's attitude of returning to assist belated guests at the threshold of bliss**.

The "vision of God," "Union with God," or "Samadhi" encompasses many kinds and degrees, but there is an impassable gulf between the least of these and the greatest of normal consciousness. This suggests **a secret source of energy that explains the phenomenon of Genius**. We reject supernatural explanations, insisting this source can be reached by following definite rules, with success depending on the seeker's capacity, not divine favor.

The critical phenomenon of success is an occurrence in the brain characterized by **the essential uniting of subject and object**. Future discussions will aim to analyze this phenomenon, determine the physical, mental, and moral conditions favorable to it, ascertain its cause, and thus replicate it to study its effects adequately.

Aleister Crowley Reads 'Magick, Liber ABA, Book 4 - Part I - Introduction' (1929) [AI Voice]

Scripts