The life of the spirit may be fairly
represented in diagram as a large acute-angled triangle divided horizontally into unequal parts with the narrowest segment uppermost. The lower the segment the greater it is in breadth, depth, and area.The whole triangle is moving slowly, almost invisibly forwards and upwards. Where the apex was today the second segment is tomorrow; what today can be understood only by the apex and to the rest of the triangle is an incomprehensible gibberish, forms tomorrow the true thought and feeling of the second segment. At the apex of the top segment stands often one man, and only one. His joyful vision cloaks a vast sorrow. Even those who are nearest to him in sympathy do not understand him. Angrily they abuse him as charlatan or madman. So in his lifetime stood Beethoven, solitary and insulted. Wassily Kandinsky (1866 –1944)


Showing posts with label Russia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Russia. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Nicholas Roerich: The Invincible (1874-1947)


        Serendipity



Dr. Cannon, a professor of physiology at Harvard University, recently gave a lecture in Peking about the meaning of success in scientific discoveries. After citing many examples of diversified scientific practice the professor came to the conclusion that “success follows only those who accept it.” An excellent formula, completely correct and applicable in all walks of life. Truly, in addition to conscientious, far-sighted work it is necessary to show the ability to perceive the symptoms of the germ of success. Many a time the occasion arose to write that success must be caught, realizing that it is an “easily frightened bird.” Many a time ancient proverbs have been quoted. “Risk not, gain not.” Different peoples, each in their own language, interpret them in their own way, yet in the same direction. An endless number of fairy tales and legends tell about unlucky simpletons who, because of their dullness, lost the Firebird. The fool was warned, “When you pluck the Fireblossom, do not look back.” But just at that moment something seemed to appear to him, the gaper naturally turned around, and all that had been found by him was lost. Verily, success must be seized—taken firmly, without retreat and in full striving. In this complete striving is expressed that faith which already borders upon great true knowledge.


In all these stories, which were warnings, there are always brought out many circumstances that aided the discovery of luck. Beginning with grey wolves or unknown benevolent beggars and passers-by many circumstances become helpers in success. One should also pay great attention to this inspired assistance. Not only should one discover such prepared assistants, but in the social structure it is also necessary to create conditions that act quickly. Precisely, such conditions should be created. The inception of success is not only a personal affair, it is a success of the state. Each private beneficient success is also the success of the government, which means the government itself must be consciously solicitous that such successes be attained. The attainment of all the best proceeds through all the highest. It means that the state, as such, should give to its citizens all of the best, all of the true culture.

As usual, we do not speak about quantity, but about quality. What of it if the newspapers come out containing many scores of pages, which because of their quality could be shortened successfully into half the amount! What of it, if all sorts of questionable restaurants and cabarets grow like mushrooms and choke up people’s thinking? Not without cause did some Easterner confuse the difference between a cafe chantant and a shaitan. Yesterday, in the middle of the desert, we listened to a radio. Listened for over two hours. We changed all possible radio waves, and visited the most diversified countries. And what did we hear? True, somewhere, it seems in America, a fragment from “Lohengrin” flashed out, but the rest was so much restaurant and fox trot music that once again we were horrified by what was filling space. After all, all of these sounds, manifested and not manifested, influence human consciousness.

It is sufficiently known that space is filled, but apparently it is not yet sufficiently assimilated that the filling of space is the greatest responsibility of humanity. The essence of quality is that very diversified building material, out of which is built the success of civilization and with it eventually that of culture. A man civilized by a fox trot will be lost on the paths leading to culture. For him these blessed pathways will already appear unattainable. “This is not for us.” “Aspirations are destined for us, but not their attainment.” This is the kind of pessimism into which not even a bad consciousness can fall, but the one weighed down by the baseness of daily life can. He who utters these negative, pessimistic words will thus renounce constructiveness. No matter how many times one may show to such a man the means of salutary successes, he will shrug them off as something unattainable, and will go to drown his sorrow in the nearest bar.

In this “drowning” of sorrow is evidenced a very cowardly pessimism. You see, the two-legged one has an urgent need to forcibly “drown” something. He thinks that he is drowning his sorrow, whereas he drowns his achievement or lets it go up in smoke. If at present space itself thunders with the horror of vulgarity, is it not the duty of every government to replace vulgarity with actions of high quality? Many a time we had occasion to say that the people are being slandered unjustly, in insisting that they demand vulgarity and meanness. Both of these are thrust upon them from an early age. But give beautiful harmony, beautiful singing, beautiful words, and the people will be drawn open-heartedly to them.

Dark forces are everywhere. Everywhere they conduct their destructive work, and they dream of depriving the nations of those achievements which are already destined. Of course, that which is destined can be considerably delayed, but nevertheless it will reveal itself. Each such delay is an abominable crime against mankind. Each one who wishes to drive someone into the darkness and deprive him of light is but a co-worker of darkness. But nations, as such, are by no means co-workers of darkness. No matter by what means the servants of darkness induce them to commit abominations and vulgarity, sooner or later they sober up. Whole masses arise and rebel against all kinds of “drownings, fumes, and poisonings.” Blessings to that government which understands that one cannot keep the people on a low level, giving them products of low quality. Then space itself will not roar and howl, but will merge into the Beautiful. Whether successes be in scientific discoveries, whether they be in ennobling creativeness, finally, whether they be in simple daily life, which also is in need of good fortune, is immaterial—success must be perceived everywhere and accepted. Sufficient is told in fairy tales about gapers and simpletons who let their luck slip. The age of building a new culture should be the age of successful people, who, each one in his way, will find his treasure-trove, his destined success. “Success follows those who accept it.”



                                                                                                                                                                                Tzagan Kure 
                                                                                                                                                                                May 30, 1935

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Emma Goldman: Essay (1869-1940)


 ANARCHISM: 
     What it really 
                        stands for



            THE history of human growth and development is at the same time the history of the terrible struggle of every new idea heralding the approach of a brighter dawn. In its tenacious hold on tradition, the Old has never hesitated to make use of the foulest and cruelest means to stay the advent of the New, in whatever form or period the latter may have asserted itself. Nor need we retrace our steps into the distant past to realize the enormity of opposition, difficulties, and hardships placed in the path of every progressive idea. The rack, the thumbscrew, and the knout are still with us; so are the convict's garb and the social wrath, all conspiring against the spirit that is serenely marching on. Anarchism could not hope to escape the fate of all other ideas of innovation. Indeed, as the most revolutionary and uncompromising innovator, Anarchism must needs meet with the combined ignorance and venom of the world it aims to reconstruct. To deal even remotely with all that is being said and done against Anarchism would necessitate the writing of a whole volume. I shall therefore meet only two of the principal objections. In so doing, I shall attempt to elucidate what Anarchism really stands for. The strange phenomenon of the opposition to Anarchism is that it brings to light the relation between so-called intelligence and ignorance. And yet this is not so very strange when we consider the relativity of all things. The ignorant mass has in its favor that it makes no pretense of knowledge or tolerance. Acting, as it always does, by mere impulse, its reasons are like those of a child. "Why?" "Because." Yet the opposition of the uneducated to Anarchism deserves the same consideration as that of the intelligent man. 


What, then, are the objections? First, Anarchism is impractical, though a beautiful ideal. Second, Anarchism stands for violence and destruction, hence it must be repudiated as vile and dangerous. Both the intelligent man and the ignorant mass judge not from a thorough knowledge of the subject, but either from hearsay or false interpretation. A practical scheme, says Oscar Wilde, is either one already in existence, or a scheme that could be carried out under the existing conditions; but it is exactly the existing conditions that one objects to, and any scheme that could accept these conditions is wrong and foolish. The true criterion of the practical, therefore, is not whether the latter can keep intact the wrong or foolish; rather is it whether the scheme has vitality enough to leave the stagnant waters of the old, and build, as well as sustain, new life. In the light of this conception, Anarchism is indeed practical. More than any other idea, it is helping to do away with the wrong and foolish; more than any other idea, it is building and sustaining new life.

      
         The emotions of the ignorant man are continuously kept at a pitch by the most blood-curdling stories about Anarchism. Not a thing too outrageous to be employed against this philosophy and its exponents. Therefore Anarchism represents to the unthinking what the proverbial bad man does to the child,--a black monster bent on swallowing everything; in short, destruction and violence. Destruction and violence! How is the ordinary man to know that the most violent element in society is ignorance; that its power of destruction is the very thing Anarchism is combating? Nor is he aware that Anarchism, whose roots, as it were, are part of nature's forces, destroys, not healthful tissue, but parasitic growths that feed on the life's essence of society. It is merely clearing the soil from weeds and sagebrush, that it may eventually bear healthy fruit.

      
          Someone has said that it requires less mental effort to condemn than to think. The widespread mental indolence, so prevalent in society, proves this to be only too true. Rather than to go to the bottom of any given idea, to examine into its origin and meaning, most people will either condemn it altogether, or rely on some superficial or prejudicial definition of non-essentials.

      Anarchism urges man to think, to investigate, to analyze every proposition; but that the brain capacity of the average reader be not taxed too much, I also shall begin with a definition, and then elaborate on the latter.

ANARCHISM:--The philosophy of a new social order based on liberty unrestricted by man-made law; the theory that all forms of government rest on violence, and are therefore wrong and harmful, as well as unnecessary.
      The new social order rests, of course, on the materialistic basis of life; but while all Anarchists agree that the main evil today is an economic one, they maintain that the solution of that evil can be brought about only through the consideration of every phase of life,--individual, as well as the collective; the internal, as well as the external phases.

      A thorough perusal of the history of human development will disclose two elements in bitter conflict with each other; elements that are only now beginning to be understood, not as foreign to each other, but as closely related and truly harmonious, if only placed in proper environment: the individual and social instincts. The individual and society have waged a relentless and bloody battle for ages, each striving for supremacy, because each was blind to the value and importance of the other. The individual and social instincts,--the one a most potent factor for individual endeavor, for growth, aspiration, self-realization; the other an equally potent factor for mutual helpfulness and social well-being.

      The explanation of the storm raging within the individual, and between him and his surroundings, is not far to seek. The primitive man, unable to understand his being, much less the unity of all life, felt himself absolutely dependent on blind, hidden forces ever ready to mock and taunt him. Out of that attitude grew the religious concepts of man as a mere speck of dust dependent on superior powers on high, who can only be appeased by complete surrender. All the early sagas rest on that idea, which continues to be the Leitmotiv of the biblical tales dealing with the relation of man to God, to the State, to society. Again and again the same motif, man is nothing, the powers are everything. Thus Jehovah would only endure man on condition of complete surrender. Man can have all the glories of the earth, but he must not become conscious of himself. The State, society, and moral laws all sing the same refrain: Man can have all the glories of the earth, but he must not become conscious of himself.

      Anarchism is the only philosophy which brings to man the consciousness of himself; which maintains that God, the State, and society are non-existent, that their promises are null and void, since they can be fulfilled only through man's subordination. Anarchism is therefore the teacher of the unity of life; not merely in nature, but in man. There is no conflict between the individual and the social instincts, any more than there is between the heart and the lungs: the one the receptacle of a precious life essence, the other the repository of the element that keeps the essence pure and strong. The individual is the heart of society, conserving the essence of social life; society is the lungs which are distributing the element to keep the life essence--that is, the individual--pure and strong.

      "The one thing of value in the world," says Emerson, "is the active soul; this every man contains within him. The soul active sees absolute truth and utters truth and creates." In other words, the individual instinct is the thing of value in the world. It is the true soul that sees and creates the truth alive, out of which is to come a still greater truth, the re-born social soul.

      Anarchism is the great liberator of man from the phantoms that have held him captive; it is the arbiter and pacifier of the two forces for individual and social harmony. To accomplish that unity, Anarchism has declared war on the pernicious influences which have so far prevented the harmonious blending of individual and social instincts, the individual and society.

      Religion, the dominion of the human mind; Property, the dominion of human needs; and Government, the dominion of human conduct, represent the stronghold of man's enslavement and all the horrors it entails. Religion! How it dominates man's mind, how it humiliates and degrades his soul. God is everything, man is nothing, says religion. But out of that nothing God has created a kingdom so despotic, so tyrannical, so cruel, so terribly exacting that naught but gloom and tears and blood have ruled the world since gods began. Anarchism rouses man to rebellion against this black monster. Break your mental fetters, says Anarchism to man, for not until you think and judge for yourself will you get rid of the dominion of darkness, the greatest obstacle to all progress.

      Property, the dominion of man's needs, the denial of the right to satisfy his needs. Time was when property claimed a divine right, when it came to man with the same refrain, even as religion, "Sacrifice! Abnegate! Submit!" The spirit of Anarchism has lifted man from his prostrate position. He now stands erect, with his face toward the light. He has learned to see the insatiable, devouring, devastating nature of property, and he is preparing to strike the monster dead.

      "Property is robbery," said the great French Anarchist Proudhon. Yes, but without risk and danger to the robber. Monopolizing the accumulated efforts of man, property has robbed him of his birthright, and has turned him loose a pauper and an outcast. Property has not even the time-worn excuse that man does not create enough to satisfy all needs. The A B C student of economics knows that the productivity of labor within the last few decades far exceeds normal demand. But what are normal demands to an abnormal institution? The only demand that property recognizes is its own gluttonous appetite for greater wealth, because wealth means power; the power to subdue, to crush, to exploit, the power to enslave, to outrage, to degrade. America is particularly boastful of her great power, her enormous national wealth. Poor America, of what avail is all her wealth, if the individuals comprising the nation are wretchedly poor? If they live in squalor, in filth, in crime, with hope and joy gone, a homeless, soilless army of human prey.

      It is generally conceded that unless the returns of any business venture exceed the cost, bankruptcy is inevitable. But those engaged in the business of producing wealth have not yet learned even this simple lesson. Every year the cost of production in human life is growing larger (50,000 killed, 100,000 wounded in America last year); the returns to the masses, who help to create wealth, are ever getting smaller. Yet America continues to be blind to the inevitable bankruptcy of our business of production. Nor is this the only crime of the latter. Still more fatal is the crime of turning the producer into a mere particle of a machine, with less will and decision than his master of steel and iron. Man is being robbed not merely of the products of his labor, but of the power of free initiative, of originality, and the interest in, or desire for, the things he is making.

      Real wealth consists in things of utility and beauty, in things that help to create strong, beautiful bodies and surroundings inspiring to live in. But if man is doomed to wind cotton around a spool, or dig coal, or build roads for thirty years of his life, there can be no talk of wealth. What he gives to the world is only gray and hideous things, reflecting a dull and hideous existence,--too weak to live, too cowardly to die. Strange to say, there are people who extol this deadening method of centralized production as the proudest achievement of our age. They fail utterly to realize that if we are to continue in machine subserviency, our slavery is more complete than was our bondage to the King. They do not want to know that centralization is not only the death-knell of liberty, but also of health and beauty, of art and science, all these being impossible in a clock-like, mechanical atmosphere.

      Anarchism cannot but repudiate such a method of production: its goal is the freest possible expression of all the latent powers of the individual. Oscar Wilde defines a perfect personality as "one who develops under perfect conditions, who is not wounded, maimed, or in danger." A perfect personality, then, is only possible in a state of society where man is free to choose the mode of work, the conditions of work, and the freedom to work. One to whom the making of a table, the building of a house, or the tilling of the soil, is what the painting is to the artist and the discovery to the scientist,--the result of inspiration, of intense longing, and deep interest in work as a creative force. That being the ideal of Anarchism, its economic arrangements must consist of voluntary productive and distributive associations, gradually developing into free communism, as the best means of producing with the least waste of human energy. Anarchism, however, also recognizes the right of the individual, or numbers of individuals, to arrange at all times for other forms of work, in harmony with their tastes and desires.

      Such free display of human energy being possible only under complete individual and social freedom, Anarchism directs its forces against the third and greatest foe of all social equality; namely, the State, organized authority, or statutory law,--the dominion of human conduct.

      Just as religion has fettered the human mind, and as property, or the monopoly of things, has subdued and stifled man's needs, so has the State enslaved his spirit, dictating every phase of conduct. "All government in essence," says Emerson, "is tyranny." It matters not whether it is government by divine right or majority rule. In every instance its aim is the absolute subordination of the individual.

      Referring to the American government, the greatest American Anarchist, David Thoreau, said: "Government, what is it but a tradition, though a recent one, endeavoring to transmit itself unimpaired to posterity, but each instance losing its integrity; it has not the vitality and force of a single living man. Law never made man a whit more just; and by means of their respect for it, even the well disposed are daily made agents of injustice."

      Indeed, the keynote of government is injustice. With the arrogance and self-sufficiency of the King who could do no wrong, governments ordain, judge, condemn, and punish the most insignificant offenses, while maintaining themselves by the greatest of all offenses, the annihilation of individual liberty. Thus Ouida is right when she maintains that "the State only aims at instilling those qualities in its public by which its demands are obeyed, and its exchequer is filled. Its highest attainment is the reduction of mankind to clockwork. In its atmosphere all those finer and more delicate liberties, which require treatment and spacious expansion, inevitably dry up and perish. The State requires a taxpaying machine in which there is no hitch, an exchequer in which there is never a deficit, and a public, monotonous, obedient, colorless, spiritless, moving humbly like a flock of sheep along a straight high road between two walls."

      Yet even a flock of sheep would resist the chicanery of the State, if it were not for the corruptive, tyrannical, and oppressive methods it employs to serve its purposes. Therefore Bakunin repudiates the State as synonymous with the surrender of the liberty of the individual or small minorities,--the destruction of social relationship, the curtailment, or complete denial even, of life itself, for its own aggrandizement. The State is the altar of political freedom and, like the religious altar, it is maintained for the purpose of human sacrifice.

      In fact, there is hardly a modern thinker who does not agree that government, organized authority, or the State, is necessary only to maintain or protect property and monopoly. It has proven efficient in that function only.

      Even George Bernard Shaw, who hopes for the miraculous from the State under Fabianism, nevertheless admits that "it is at present a huge machine for robbing and slave-driving of the poor by brute force." This being the case, it is hard to see why the clever prefacer wishes to uphold the State after poverty shall have ceased to exist.

      Unfortunately, there are still a number of people who continue in the fatal belief that government rests on natural laws, that it maintains social order and harmony, that it diminishes crime, and that it prevents the lazy man from fleecing his fellows. I shall therefore examine these contentions.

      A natural law is that factor in man which asserts itself freely and spontaneously without any external force, in harmony with the requirements of nature. For instance, the demand for nutrition, for sex gratification, for light, air, and exercise, is a natural law. But its expression needs not the machinery of government, needs not the club, the gun, the handcuff, or the prison. To obey such laws, if we may call it obedience, requires only spontaneity and free opportunity. That governments do not maintain themselves through such harmonious factors is proven by the terrible array of violence, force, and coercion all governments use in order to live. Thus Blackstone is right when he says, "Human laws are invalid, because they are contrary to the laws of nature."

      Unless it be the order of Warsaw after the slaughter of thousands of people, it is difficult to ascribe to governments any capacity for order or social harmony. Order derived through submission and maintained by terror is not much of a safe guaranty; yet that is the only "order" that governments have ever maintained. True social harmony grows naturally out of solidarity of interests. In a society where those who always work never have anything, while those who never work enjoy everything, solidarity of interests is non-existent; hence social harmony is but a myth. The only way organized authority meets this grave situation is by extending still greater privileges to those who have already monopolized the earth, and by still further enslaving the disinherited masses. Thus the entire arsenal of government--laws, police, soldiers, the courts, legislatures, prisons,--is strenuously engaged in "harmonizing" the most antagonistic elements in society.

      The most absurd apology for authority and law is that they serve to diminish crime. Aside from the fact that the State is itself the greatest criminal, breaking every written and natural law, stealing in the form of taxes, killing in the form of war and capital punishment, it has come to an absolute standstill in coping with crime. It has failed utterly to destroy or even minimize the horrible scourge of its own creation.

      Crime is naught but misdirected energy. So long as every institution of today, economic, political, social, and moral, conspires to misdirect human energy into wrong channels; so long as most people are out of place doing the things they hate to do, living a life they loathe to live, crime will be inevitable, and all the laws on the statutes can only increase, but never do away with, crime. What does society, as it exists today, know of the process of despair, the poverty, the horrors, the fearful struggle the human soul must pass on its way to crime and degradation. Who that knows this terrible process can fail to see the truth in these words of Peter Kropotkin:

      "Those who will hold the balance between the benefits thus attributed to law and punishment and the degrading effect of the latter on humanity; those who will estimate the torrent of depravity poured abroad in human society by the informer, favored by the Judge even, and paid for in clinking cash by governments, under the pretext of aiding to unmask crime; those who will go within prison walls and there see what human beings become when deprived of liberty, when subjected to the care of brutal keepers, to coarse, cruel words, to a thousand stinging, piercing humiliations, will agree with us that the entire apparatus of prison and punishment is an abomination which ought to be brought to an end."

      The deterrent influence of law on the lazy man is too absurd to merit consideration. If society were only relieved of the waste and expense of keeping a lazy class, and the equally great expense of the paraphernalia of protection this lazy class requires, the social tables would contain an abundance for all, including even the occasional lazy individual. Besides, it is well to consider that laziness results either from special privileges, or physical and mental abnormalities. Our present insane system of production fosters both, and the most astounding phenomenon is that people should want to work at all now. Anarchism aims to strip labor of its deadening, dulling aspect, of its gloom and compulsion. It aims to make work an instrument of joy, of strength, of color, of real harmony, so that the poorest sort of a man should find in work both recreation and hope.

     To achieve such an arrangement of life, government, with its unjust, arbitrary, repressive measures, must be done away with. At best it has but imposed one single mode of life upon all, without regard to individual and social variations and needs. In destroying government and statutory laws, Anarchism proposes to rescue the self-respect and independence of the individual from all restraint and invasion by authority. Only in freedom can man grow to his full stature. Only in freedom will he learn to think and move, and give the very best in him. Only in freedom will he realize the true force of the social bonds which knit men together, and which are the true foundation of a normal social life.

      But what about human nature? Can it be changed? And if not, will it endure under Anarchism?

      Poor human nature, what horrible crimes have been committed in thy name! Every fool, from king to policeman, from the flatheaded parson to the visionless dabbler in science, presumes to speak authoritatively of human nature. The greater the mental charlatan, the more definite his insistence on the wickedness and weaknesses of human nature. Yet, how can any one speak of it today, with every soul in a prison, with every heart fettered, wounded, and maimed?

      John Burroughs has stated that experimental study of animals in captivity is absolutely useless. Their character, their habits, their appetites undergo a complete transformation when torn from their soil in field and forest. With human nature caged in a narrow space, whipped daily into submission, how can we speak of its potentialities?

      Freedom, expansion, opportunity, and, above all, peace and repose, alone can teach us the real dominant factors of human nature and all its wonderful possibilities.

      Anarchism, then, really stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion; the liberation of the human body from the dominion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. Anarchism stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals for the purpose of producing real social wealth; an order that will guarantee to every human being free access to the earth and full enjoyment of the necessities of life, according to individual desires, tastes, and inclinations.

      This is not a wild fancy or an aberration of the mind. It is the conclusion arrived at by hosts of intellectual men and women the world over; a conclusion resulting from the close and studious observation of the tendencies of modern society: individual liberty and economic equality, the twin forces for the birth of what is fine and true in man.

      As to methods. Anarchism is not, as some may suppose, a theory of the future to be realized through divine inspiration. It is a living force in the affairs of our life, constantly creating new conditions. The methods of Anarchism therefore do not comprise an iron-clad program to be carried out under all circumstances. Methods must grow out of the economic needs of each place and clime, and of the intellectual and temperamental requirements of the individual. The serene, calm character of a Tolstoy will wish different methods for social reconstruction than the intense, overflowing personality of a Michael Bakunin or a Peter Kropotkin. Equally so it must be apparent that the economic and political needs of Russia will dictate more drastic measures than would England or America. Anarchism does not stand for military drill and uniformity; it does, however, stand for the spirit of revolt, in whatever form, against everything that hinders human growth. All Anarchists agree in that, as they also agree in their opposition to the political machinery as a means of bringing about the great social change.

      "All voting," says Thoreau, "is a sort of gaming, like checkers, or backgammon, a playing with right and wrong; its obligation never exceeds that of expediency. Even voting for the right thing is doing nothing for it. A wise man will not leave the right to the mercy of chance, nor wish it to prevail through the power of the majority." A close examination of the machinery of politics and its achievements will bear out the logic of Thoreau.

      What does the history of parliamentarism show? Nothing but failure and defeat, not even a single reform to ameliorate the economic and social stress of the people. Laws have been passed and enactments made for the improvement and protection of labor. Thus it was proven only last year that Illinois, with the most rigid laws for mine protection, had the greatest mine disasters. In States where child labor laws prevail, child exploitation is at its highest, and though with us the workers enjoy full political opportunities, capitalism has reached the most brazen zenith.

      Even were the workers able to have their own representatives, for which our good Socialist politicians are clamoring, what chances are there for their honesty and good faith? One has but to bear in mind the process of politics to realize that its path of good intentions is full of pitfalls: wire-pulling, intriguing, flattering, lying, cheating; in fact, chicanery of every description, whereby the political aspirant can achieve success. Added to that is a complete demoralization of character and conviction, until nothing is left that would make one hope for anything from such a human derelict. Time and time again the people were foolish enough to trust, believe, and support with their last farthing aspiring politicians, only to find themselves betrayed and cheated.

      It may be claimed that men of integrity would not become corrupt in the political grinding mill. Perhaps not; but such men would be absolutely helpless to exert the slightest influence in behalf of labor, as indeed has been shown in numerous instances. The State is the economic master of its servants. Good men, if such there be, would either remain true to their political faith and lose their economic support, or they would cling to their economic master and be utterly unable to do the slightest good. The political arena leaves one no alternative, one must either be a dunce or a rogue.

      The political superstition is still holding sway over the hearts and minds of the masses, but the true lovers of liberty will have no more to do with it. Instead, they believe with Stirner that man has as much liberty as he is willing to take. Anarchism therefore stands for direct action, the open defiance of, and resistance to, all laws and restrictions, economic, social, and moral. But defiance and resistance are illegal. Therein lies the salvation of man. Everything illegal necessitates integrity, self-reliance, and courage. In short, it calls for free, independent spirits, for "men who are men, and who have a bone in their backs which you cannot pass your hand through."

      Universal suffrage itself owes its existence to direct action. If not for the spirit of rebellion, of the defiance on the part of the American revolutionary fathers, their posterity would still wear the King's coat. If not for the direct action of a John Brown and his comrades, America would still trade in the flesh of the black man. True, the trade in white flesh is still going on; but that, too, will have to be abolished by direct action. Trade-unionism, the economic arena of the modern gladiator, owes its existence to direct action. It is but recently that law and government have attempted to crush the trade-union movement, and condemned the exponents of man's right to organize to prison as conspirators. Had they sought to assert their cause through begging, pleading, and compromise, trade-unionism would today be a negligible quantity. In France, in Spain, in Italy, in Russia, nay even in England (witness the growing rebellion of English labor unions), direct, revolutionary, economic action has become so strong a force in the battle for industrial liberty as to make the world realize the tremendous importance of labor's power. The General Strike, the supreme expression of the economic consciousness of the workers, was ridiculed in America but a short time ago. Today every great strike, in order to win, must realize the importance of the solidaric general protest.

      Direct action, having proven effective along economic lines, is equally potent in the environment of the individual. There a hundred forces encroach upon his being, and only persistent resistance to them will finally set him free. Direct action against the authority in the shop, direct action against the authority of the law, direct action against the invasive, meddlesome authority of our moral code, is the logical, consistent method of Anarchism.

      Will it not lead to a revolution? Indeed, it will. No real social change has ever come about without a revolution. People are either not familiar with their history, or they have not yet learned that revolution is but thought carried into action.

      Anarchism, the great leaven of thought, is today permeating every phase of human endeavor. Science, art, literature, the drama, the effort for economic betterment, in fact every individual and social opposition to the existing disorder of things, is illumined by the spiritual light of Anarchism. It is the philosophy of the sovereignty of the individual. It is the theory of social harmony. It is the great, surging, living truth that is reconstructing the world, and that will usher in the Dawn.







Thursday, September 6, 2012

Peter D. Ouspensky: Tertium Organum (1912)


           A Key to the 
      Enigmas of 
             the World:
                (Chapter 21)


Necessity of abandoning our phenomenal logic for a noumenal approach. Science must recognize that only through poetry and mysticism do we approach the world of causes. Preparation through faith and love are necessary to overcome the terror ofinfinity. The real meaning of 'Poor in spirit'. The Organon of Aristotle, the Novum Organum of Bacon and Tertium Organum which, though often forgotten, existed before the others and is a key to the hidden side of life. Necessity of discarding our two-dimensional 'idols' and attempting to enumerate the properties of the world of causes. Everything said about mathematical magnitudes refers also to logical concepts. Finite mathematical magnitudes and logical concepts are subject to the same laws. We have now made it clear that laws discovered by us in three-dimensional space and operating in this space are inapplicable, incorrect and untrue in a space of a greater number of dimensions. This is equally true in mathematics and in logic. As soon as, instead of finite and constant magnitudes, we begin to examine infinite and variable magnitudes, we see that the fundamental axioms of our mathematics cannot refer to them. And as soon as, instead of concepts, we being to think in other terms, we must be prepared to meet with an enormous number of absurdities from the point of view of existing logic.  They would seem absurdities  to us because we  approach the many­ dimensional world with the logic of the three-dimensional world. It was shown  earlier that for an animal, i.e. for a two-dimensional being thinking not by concepts but by representations, our logical propositions are bound to seem absurd. The logical relations in the world of many dimensions appear just as absurd to  us.  There is  no reason  whatever for hoping that  in  the  world of  causes relations can be logical from our point of view. On the contrary, we may saythat EVERYTHING LOGICAL is only phenomenal. On the other side there can be nothing logical from our point of view. Everything that exists there is bound  to appear to us a logical absurdity, nonsense. And we must remember that we cannot orientate ourselves there with our logic. The attitude of human thought in its main trends to the 'world beyond' was always entirely wrong.
               
                           The 'world beyond' of the spiritualists, in all the existing versions of it, is but a naive and primitive representation of the unknown. In 'positivism' people have denied the world beyond altogether, because, refusing to admit the possibility of logical relations other than those formulated by Aristotle and  Bacon, people denied  the  very existence of anything that appeared senseless  andimpossible from the point  of  view of these formulae. And in 'spiritualism'  they attempted to build a noumenal world on the pattern of  the phenomenal, i.e.  against reason, in defiance of the forces of nature, they wanted at  all  costs to  prove that the world beyond is logical from our point of view, that the same laws of causation operate there as in our world, and that the world beyond is nothing more than a continuation of ours.
                       Positivist philosophy saw the absurdity of dualistic theses, but, unable to widen the field of its activity limited  by logic  and the 'infinite  sphere', it  could  not think of anything better than DENIAL. Only mystical philosophy felt the  possibility of relations other  than these  of  the phenomenal world. But it dwelt on vague and nebulous sensations, unable to define or classify them. Science must come to mysticism, and then to the study of forms of consciousness ­ and  consequently of  perception - other than ours. Science  must throw off almost everything old and must start from a new theory of cognition, for mysticism offers a new approach.
                Science cannot deny the fact that mathematics grows, widens and passes beyond the boundaries of the visible  and  measurable world. Whole sections of mathematics examine quantitative relations which do not exist and never existed in the real world of positivism, i.e. relations to which there are no corresponding realities in the visible, i.e. the three-dimensional world. But there  cannot be  any  mathematical relations for which there  would be no corresponding realities at all. Consequently, mathematics transcends the boundaries of this world and peeps into  the world of the unknown. It is a  telescope by  means of which we begin to investigate  the  space  of many dimensions with its worlds.

                  Mathematics goes in the vanguard of  our thought, in the vanguard  of  our powers of imagination and representation. It already calculates relationships which we are totally incapable of imagining or even thinking about. All this  cannot  be denied even from  the strictly 'positivist', i.e.  positive point  of view. And,  having admitted the possibility  of widening the field of  mathematics beyond the limits of the world known through the senses, i.e. beyond the limits of the world  accessible (be it only theoretically) to the organs of sense and to apparatus, science must, by this very fact, admit the expansion of the real world far beyond the limits of the 'infinite sphere' and logic. In other words it must recognize the reality of the 'world of many dimensions'. The recognition of the reality of the world of many dimensions is an  already accomplished transition to the understanding and the recognition of the world of the miraculous'.  And  a  transition  to the  miraculous  is impossible without admitting the reality of new logical relations,  absurd and impossible from the point of view of our logic.

                  What are the laws of our logic? They  are the laws of our perception of the three-dimensional world or the laws of our three-dimensional perception of the world. If we  want to leave the three-dimensional world  behind and advance  further, we must first of all evolve some fundamental logical principles which would enable us to  observe the relationships of things in the world of many dimensions and see in them a certain orderly interdependence rather than complete absurdity. If we enter there with logical principles of the three-dimensional world, they will drag us back, will not allow us to rise above the ground. We must first of all, throw off the fetters of our logic. This is the first, the great and the principal liberation towards which humanity should strive. A man who has thrown off the fetters of 'three-dimensional logic', has already passed in thought into another world.  And this transition is  not only possible  but is being constantly accomplished. Unfortunately, we are not entirely aware of our rights to the 'other world'  and often lose these rights, considering ourselves locked into this terrestrial  world. And yet ways leading there  exist. Poetry, mysticism, idealistic philosophy of all ages and peoples preserve traces of such transition. Following these traces we also can find the way. Ancient and modern thinkers have left us many keys  with which we  can  unlock the mysterious doors, and many magical formulae before which these doors open by  themselves.  But  we failed to  understand the  purpose  of either the keys or the formulae;  and we  have lost the  understanding of  magical ceremonies and rituals of initiation in the Mysteries, which pursued only one aim - to  help this transition in man's soul.

                 And so the doors  have remained locked,  and we  even deny that there is anything behind  these doors.  Or, suspecting the existence of another world,  we  regard  it as similar to ours and separate from ours, and attempt to penetrate it without realizing that the chief obstacle on our path is our own  division  of the world  into  this world and the  world beyond.The world is one - but the means of perceiving it are different. And with imperfect means of perception it is impossible to penetrate into that which is accessible only to the perfect. Attempts with the logic of the phenomenal world to penetrate in thought into the world beyond, the world of noumena, the world of causes, if they did not prove  a complete failure or did  not lead a man to the world of waking dreams, gave one result only. - Conscious of the new order of things man lost the sense of the reality of the old order. The visible world began to appear to him  fantastic,  unreal; everything vanished around him, disappeared like smoke, leaving a  terrifying sensation  of  illusion. He felt  in  everything  the abyss of infinity, and everything pouring away into this abyss.

           The sensation  of  infinity is the first and most  terrifying  trial before initiation. There is nothing! The small insignificant soul feels itself suspended in an infinite void. Then even the soul itself ceases to exist. There is nothing ­there is only infinity, the constant and continuous breaking up and dissolution of everything. In the mystical literature of all peoples there are references to this sensation of void and darkness. The mysterious deity  of the  ancient Egyptians, mentioned in  the  Orphic myths* was:  'The thrice-unknown darkness in contemplation of which all knowledge is resolved into ignorance.' This means that, approaching  the world of causes with nothing  but  the knowledge of  the world of phenomena, with  his own  instrument of logic which proved futile because  all the new eluded him,  a man was bound  to experience a terror surpassing all limits. In the new he felt as yet nothing but chaos, the old was vanishing, receding, becoming unreal. Terror and regret at the loss of the  old was mingling with  the fear  of the new, the  unknown, terrifying in its infinity. At this stage a man goes through the same experience as that of an animalin becoming a  man.

               After a momentary  glimpse  of the  new world it is dragged back by life. The world it has glimpsed for a short moment seems a dream, a fantasy, a creation of its imagination. But the old world of the past is no longer the same either, it becomes narrow, there is no longer any room in it. The awakening consciousness can no longer lead the same wild and free life of a beast. It already Annie Besant,  The Ancient  Wisdom,  Theosophical Publishing House,  Adyar, 1939, Introduction. knows something, hears some voices. And at the same time the body holds it. And it does not know where and how it can escape it or escape from itself. A man on the threshold of the new world has exactly the same experience. He has heard the music of heaven,  and the dull songs of the earth no longer touch or move him; or, if they do touch and move him, it is because they speak to him of heavenly sounds, of the unattainable, of the  unknown. He has experienced  a feeling  of an extraordinary EXPANSION of consciousness, when for a moment everything was clear to him, and he cannot reconcile himself to the slow earthly working of the brain. Moments of 'sensation of infinity' are connected with quite special emotions.

                     In 'theosophical' literature  and in books on occultism it is often said that, passing into the 'astral' world man begins to see new colours, colours which are not in the solar spectrum.This symbolism of the new colours of the 'astral sphere' conveys precisely the thought about the new emotions which  a man begins to experience together with the sensations of an  expanded  consciousness - 'the ocean  being  absorbed by a drop'. This is the 'incredible bliss' of which mystics speak, the heavenly light which the saints 'see', the 'new sensations' which  poets experience.  Even  conversational psychology connects 'ecstasy' with completely unusual new sensations, inaccessible and unknown to man in ordinary life. This sensation of light and infinite joy is experienced in moments of expansion of consciousness (the unfolding of the mystic lotus of the Indian Yogi), at the moment of the sensation of infinity which produces,  at the same time, the sensation of darkness  and boundless terror.What does it mean?How to reconcile the sensation of light with the sensation of darkness, the sensation of joy with the sensation  of terror? Can it be simultaneous? Does it happen simultaneously?
            

  It does happen and it has got to be so. Mystical literature gives us examples of this. The simultaneous sensation of light and darkness, joy  and terror seems to symbolize the strange duality and contradiction of human life. It can happen to a man who is very sharply divided, with one side of his nature gone far into the 'spirit' and the other side deeply sunk in 'matter', i.e. in illusion, in unreality; with too profound a faith in the reality of the unreal. Although it must be remembered that we see only three of the seven colours of the solar spectrum. Speaking generally, the new world gives the sensation of light, of life, of all-pervading consciousness, of joy. . . . But to a mind which is not prepared the same world  will  give a sensation  of infinite darkness and  terror. Moreover, the sensation of terror must come from the loss of everything real, from the disappearance of this world. In order not to experience the terror of the new world, it is necessary to know  it  beforehand, either emotionally - through  faith  and  love, or intellectually - by reason. 

                   And in order not to experience terror at  the loss  of the old world,  one
should renounce it voluntarily beforehand, also either through faith or reason. It is necessary to renounce voluntarily all the beautiful bright world we live in, to admit that it is a mirage, a phantom, an unreality, deceit, illusion, may a.  One should become reconciled to this unreality,  not be afraid of it  but rejoice in it. One should be stripped of everything. One should become POOR IN SPIRIT, i.e. make oneself poor by an effort of one's spirit. The beautiful Gospel symbol expresses the deepest philosophical truth: Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. These words become clear only if taken in the sense of renunciation of the material world. 'Poor in spirit' does not mean poor in the material sense, in the everyday meaning of the word; and it certainly does not mean poverty of the spirit. Spiritual poverty is renunciation of matter, such 'poverty' when a man has no ground under his feet and no sky over his head.

                       Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, But the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. This is the kind of  poverty when a man  is  completely alone, because  he begins to see other people, even the most near to him, his father, his mother, not as he saw them before, but differently, and renounces them because he  sees  real entities towards which he  strives, just as in  renouncing the phenomenal phantasm of the world he approaches that which is truly real. The moment of transition, the terrible moment of the loss of the old and the unfolding of the new was depicted in ancient literature in an infinite number of allegories. The purpose of the Mysteries was to make this transition easier. In India,  in  Egypt, in Greece there existed  special  preparatory rituals, sometimes only symbolical, sometimes real,  actually leading the soul to the very doors of the new world, and opening these doors at the  moment  of  initiation.  But  external rites and  ceremonies  could not  by  themselves create initiation. The chief work had to go on within the soul and the mind of man.

            How then can logic help man to pass to the consciousness of this new higher world? We  have seen that mathematics has  already found a way into this higher order of things. Penetrating there, it first of all renounces its fundamental axioms of identity and difference. In the world of infinite and fluid magnitudes a magnitude can be not equal to itself; a part  may be  equal  to the  whole;  and of equal magnitudes  one may  be infinitely greater than another. All this sounds like an absurdity from the point of view of the mathematics of finite and  constant numbers. But the very mathematics of finite  and  constant  numbers is a calculation of relationships among non-existent  magnitudes, i.e.  an  absurdity. Therefore,  only that which seems  an  absurdity from the point of view of this mathematics can be the truth.

Logic goes through the same process. It has to renounce itself, arrive at the necessity of its own annihilation - and then a new and higher logic may arise from it. In his Critique of Pure Reason Kant proved the possibility of a transcendental logic. Before Bacon and before  Aristotle, in  ancient Indian scriptures there were  given formulae of that  higher logic  which unlocked  the doors of the  mysteries.  But the meaning of these formulae was soon lost. They were preserved in ancient books, but only as some strange mummies of extinct thought, words without real content. New  thinkers  again re-discovered these principles,  expressed them in new words. But  again they remained not understood, again they turned into some useless verbal ornament. But the idea continued. Belief was never lost in the possibility of finding and establishing the laws of the higher world.  Mystical philosophy never regarded Aristotelean logic as all embracing or omnipotent. It built its systems outside logic or above  logic, unconsciously, following  the lines of thought laid  down in the deepest antiquity.

      Higher logic  existed before  deductive and  inductive logic was  ever formulated. Higher logic may be called intuitive logic, the logic of infinity, the logic of ecstasy. This logic is not only possible, but it exists, and has existed from time immemorial; it was formulated many times; it entered as a key into philosophical systems - but in some strange way it was not recognized as LOGIC. The system of this logic can be deduced from a great many philosophical systems. I find the most exact and the fullest formulation of this logic in Plotinus, in his treatise  'On Intelligible Beauty'. I shall quote this passage in the following chapter. I have called the system of higher logic 'TERTIUM ORGANUM', because for us it is the third instrument or the third law of thought after Aristotle  and Bacon. The first was ORGANON, the second NOVUM ORGANUM. But the third existed before the first. A man possessing this key can open the doors of the world of causes without fear. The axioms which Tertium Organum contains cannot be formulated in our language. But if we still try to formulate them, they will produce the impression of absurdities. Taking the axioms of Aristotle as a model, we may express the principal axiom of the  new logic in our poor earthly language in the following way:

                                                   A is both A and not A, or
                                                  Every thing is both A and not A, or
                                                 Every thing is All.


           But in fact these formulae are  completely impossible. And they  are not  axioms of higher logic; they are merely attempts to express the axioms of this logic in concepts. In reality the ideas of higher logic are inexpressible in concepts. And when we come up against this in-expressibility, it means that we have come into contact with the world of causes. The logical formula A is both A and not A corresponds to the mathematical formula: a magnitude can be greater or lesser than itself. The absurdity of both these propositions shows that they cannot refer to our world. Naturally, absurdity does not, by itself, indicate that a thing belongs to noumena. But  the fact of belonging to noumena will necessarily be expressed for us in absurdity. To  hope to find anything in the world of causes that would be logical from our point of view is just as useless as to think that the world of things can exist in accordance withthe laws of  the  world of  shadows, or stereometry  in  accordance with  the laws of planimetry.

   To master the main principles of higher logic means to master the fundamentals  of  the understanding of higher-dimensional space or  the  world of the miraculous. In order to come to a clear understanding of the relations of the many-dimensional world, we must get rid of all the 'idols' of our world (to use Bacon's expression); in other words we must get rid of all the obstacles to a right perception and thinking. And above all we must have an inner kinship with the world of the miraculous. In  order to come to the understanding  of the  three-dimensional world, a two­ dimensional being must  already be three-dimensional,  and then  get free of its 'idols', i.e. of its accepted ways of feeling and thinking, which have become axiomatic and are creating for it the illusion of two-dimensionality. What exactly must a two-dimensional being get rid of? First of all - and this is most important - it must get rid of the conviction that what it sees and senses  actually  exists; and  as a result it must  become aware of the incorrectness of its representation of the world, and then of the idea that the real, new world must exist in some quite different forms, new, incomparable, incommensurable with the old. Further, the two-dimensional being must get rid of the assurance that its divisions are correct. It must understand that things which appear to it totally different and separated one from another, may be a part of some whole incomprehensible to it, or  that they may  have much in common,  although this may not be noticed; whereas  things which seem one and indivisible, are actually infinitely complex and manifold.

          The mental growth of the two-dimensional being must proceed along the line of the recognition of those common properties of objects, unknown to it before, which result from their similar origin or similar functions, incomprehensible on a plane. Once the two-dimensional  being has recognized the possible existence  of  common properties, formerly unknown  to it,  in objects which  appear different, it has already come near to our understanding of the world. It has come near to our logic, has begun  to understand the use of a collective noun, i.e. a word which is not a proper name but a common noun; in other words, a word expressing a concept. The 'idols'  of the two-dimensional being which obstruct the  development  of its consciousness are proper names which itself it gives to all surrounding objects.  For it every object has its own proper name, corresponding to its own representation of that object; it has no common nouns corresponding to concepts. It is only by getting rid of  these 'idols' and understanding that nouns may be both proper and common that it will be able to advance further, to develop mentally, to approach the human understanding of the world. Otherwise, the simplest sentence, such as:

                                           John and Peter are both men 

will be an absurdity for a two-dimensional being. In its own representation it will take approximately the following form: 

                                               John and Peter are both John and Peters. 

In other words, every logical proposition of ours will seem an  absurdity to it. It is
clear why this should be so. It has no concepts; proper names which make up its speech, have no plural. It is clear that the plural of our speech will seem to it an absurdity. But where are our 'idols'? What  must  we get rid of in order to pass on to  the understanding of relations in the many-dimensional world? First  of  all  we  must get  rid of the  conviction  that we see and sense  that which actually exists and that the real world is similar to the world we see. In other words, we must get rid of the illusion of the material world. We must understand with mind all the illusory nature of the world we perceive in time and space and understand that the real world can have nothing in common with it. We  must understand that  we  cannot represent to ourselves the real world in forms;  and  then  we  must understand the conditional nature of the axioms of our mathematics  and logic relating to the unreal, phenomenal world. In mathematics the  idea of infinity  will help us to do this. The unreality of finite magnitudes  as compared  with  the infinite is self-evident. In logic we  may  base our thought on the idea of monism, i.e. the fundamental unity of everything existing, and  consequently adopt as our starting point the impossibility of constructing any axioms consisting of contrapositions, theses and antitheses, on which our logic is based. 

 The logic of Aristotle and Bacon is fundamentally dualistic. If we are deeply imbued with the idea of monism, we shall conquer the 'idol' of this logic. The fundamental axioms of our logic may be reduced to identity and contradiction, in the same way as mathematical axioms. At the basis of them all lies the acceptance of one general axiom, namely, that every given something has something opposite to it. Consequently, every proposition has its contra-position, every thesis has its antithesis. To the being of every thing is opposed the non-being of that thing. To the being of the world is opposed the non-being of the world. Object is opposed to subject. Objective world - to the sub-jective world. Not  'I' is  opposed to  'I'. Immobility  - to  motion. Variability - to constancy.  Multiformity - to unity. Falsehood - to  truth. Evil  - to  good. And, in conclusion, to every A in general is opposed not A. The recognition of the reality of these divisions is necessary for the acceptance of the fundamental  axioms of  the  logic of Aristotle  and Bacon.  In other  words, this  logic requires an absolute and incontestable acceptance of the idea of the duality of the world- dualism. The recognition of the  unreality of these divisions and of the unity of all opposites is necessary for the beginning of understanding of higher logic.

In the very beginning of this book the existence of the WORLD and of INNER LIFE was 'admitted', in other words, the reality of a dual division of everything existing, because all other contrapositions are derived from this contraposition. Duality is the condition of our perception of the phenomenal (three-dimensional) world; it is the instrument of our perception of phenomena. But when we  come to the perception of the noumenal  world (or the world of many dimensions), this duality begins to stand in our way, to become an obstacle to knowledge. Dualism is the chief 'idol' we have to get rid of. In order to understand the relations of things in three dimensions and in our logic, a two-dimensional being must renounce the 'idol' of the absolute uniqueness of objects which requires it to call things only by their proper names. We, in order to understand the world of many dimensions, must renounce the idol of duality. But an application of  monism to practical thinking comes  up against the insurmountable obstacle of our language. Our language is incapable of expressing the unity of opposites, just as it is incapable of expressing spatially the relation of cause and  effect. Consequently,  we should be prepared to find that all  attempts to express super-logical relations in our language will appear absurd, and actually will only hint at what we wish to convey. Thus the formula:


                             A is both A and not A or
                         Everything is both A and not A


 representing the fundamental  axiom of higher logic,  as expressed in our languageof  concepts, sounds an  absurdity from the  point of view of our ordinary  logic,  and is essentially untrue. We  must be prepared for the fact  that  it is impossible to  express superlogical relations in our language. The formula 'A is both A and not A' is untrue because in the world of causes the very contraposition of 'A' and 'not A' does not exist But we cannot express their real relation. It would be more correct to say,
A is all But this also would be untrue, because A is not only all, but also any part of all, and at the same time a given part This is exactly what our language cannot express And it is exactly to this that we must tram and accustom our thought. We must become accustomed to the thought that separateness and combination are  not opposites in the real world, but exist together and at the same time, without contradicting each other. We must realize that in the real world the same thing can be both a part and the whole, i.e. that the whole, without changing, can be its own part.

          We must understand in general that there are no contrapositions and that each thing is a certain archetype of the all. Having begun to understand this we shall begin to grasp separate ideas concerning the essence of the 'noumenal world' or the world of many dimensions in which we actually live. In such a case the higher logic, even with the imperfect formulae -crude as they may appear in our language of concepts - represents a powerful instrument of cognition of the world, the only means of preserving us from illusions. The application of this instrument of thought gives the key to the mysteries of nature, to the world as it is. Let us try to enumerate the properties of the WORLD OF CAUSES which may be derived from everything said so far.

            It is first of all necessary to emphasize that it is impossible to express in words the properties of the world of causes. Every thought which is expressed about them will be untrue. It can be said about the real world that (in relation to it) 'a thought expressed in words, is a lie'. One can speak about it only conditionally, approximately, by hints, by  symbols. And,  if anything said  about it is understood  literally, it will  become an absurdity. Generally speaking,  everything expressed in  words about  the world  of causes may  seem absurd  and  is actually  already a  distortion. Truth cannot be expressed. The most one can do is to hint at it, to give an impetus to the thought. But everyone must find truth for himself, by himself. 'Someone else's' truth is worse than a lie, because it is - two lies. This also explains why truth can only be expressed in the form of a paradox, or even in the form of a lie. 

   To speak of truth without lies we must know some other language. Our language is not suitable. What then  can we say in our  language  about the world of many dimensions, the world of noumena or the world of causes?  

1 In this world 'TIME' must  exist spatially, i.e. time events must exist  and not take place. In other words, they must exist both before and after their accomplishment and lie, as it were, on the same plane. Effects must exist simultaneously with causes. What we call the law of causation cannot exist there, because the necessary condition for it is — time. There can be nothing there measurable by years, days and hours. There can be no  before, now and  after. Moments  of different  epochs, divided by long stretches of time, exist simultaneously and may be adjacent. At the same time all the possibilities of a given moment, even those opposed to one another, together with all their results ad infinitum, must become realized simultaneously with the given moment. But the length of the moment may be different on different planes.

 2There is nothing there measurable by our measures, nothing commensurable with
our solids, nothing that is more or less than our solids. There is nothing lying to the
right  or  the left,  above or below our solids. Nothing resembling our solids, lines or
figures. Yet, at the same time, all this may be. Different points of our space divided for us by long distances, must be  adjacent there. 'Proximity' or 'distance'  are determined there  by inner 'affinity' or  'divergence', by sympathy  or antipathy, i.e.  by properties which seem to us subjective.  There is no matter there, nor motion. There is nothing that may be weighed or photographed, or expressed in formulae of physical energy. There is nothing that has form, colour or smell. Nothing possessing the qualities of physical bodies. 
               
                  At the same time, with the understanding of certain laws, the properties of the world of causes may be studied in the categories which have been enumerated.
 There is nothing dead or unconscious there. Everything lives, everything breathes,
everything thinks, everything feels, everything is conscious and everything speaks.
 Axioms of our mathematics cannot be  applied in that world,  because  there  is
nothing finite there. Everything there is infinite and, from our point of view, variable. Laws of our logic cannot operate there. From the point of view of our logic that world is outside logic. It is the domain the laws of which  are  expressed in TERTIUM ORGANUM. 7 The multiplicity of our world cannot exist there. Everything is the whole. And every separate speck of dust, let alone every separate life and every conscious being, lives  one life  with  the  whole and  includes  all the
whole in itself. 8 In that world there can be none of the duality of our world. Being there is not opposed to non-being. Life is not opposed to death. On the contrary, the
one includes the other. Unity  and multiplicity, motion and immobility; oneness and divisibility, good and evil,  truth  and falsehood - all  these divisions are  impossible there.  Everything subjective is  objective, and everything  objective is subjective.  That world  is the  world of the  unity of opposites. 9 The sense of the reality of that world must be accompanied by a sense of the unreality of this world. At the same time no difference between the real and the unreal can exist there, just as there cannot be any difference between the subjective and the objective. 10 That world and our world are not two different worlds. The world is one. That which we call our world is only our incorrect representation of the world, the world seen through a narrow slit. We begin to sense that world as
the miraculous, i.e. as something opposed to the reality of this world. At the
same time this world, the earthly world, begins to appear unreal.
11 But everything said so far will not define our relation to that world, so
long as we do not realize that even in comprehending it we will not embrace
it in its entirety, i.e. in all the variety of relations existing within it, but will
think of it only in one or another aspect.
12 What has been said about the world of causes refers also to the All. But
between the world and the All there may be many transitional stages.



Translation: Nicholas Bessaraboff 
and Claude Bragdon
and  published by Bragdon's
Manas Press in 1920