|
Student-Teacher
General notes
The few who have a broad experience of life, whose reason is sufficiently alive to judge both fruits and roots correctly and whose intuition is sufficiently active to recognize nobility when meeting it, who want the whole truth and nothing less, will find a friend (for he will not wish to be anything more) who will decline to permit others to hold a fanciful vision of an earthly perfection which is non-existent; who will be humble, sane, and balanced above all things, and yet prove with time--if they themselves prove loyal--to be also a sure and benevolent guide in this dark forest where so many wander bewildered, deceived, or self-deceived. Excessive unreflective saint-worship raises exaggerated and even false hopes. It has historically often ended with exploitation of the worshipper. But even where it does not, it is still incompatible with healthy self-development; an affectionate respect is wiser and safer. Let us not ask a teacher to be a god, because thereby we are liable to deceive and endanger ourselves, but let us ask him to be competent and illumined, truthful and helpful and compassionate. Not by our own exertions alone, and not by the gift or grace of an external being alone, can we be brought to final realization, but by both. Those who can let themselves be uplifted by some inspired or enlightened person should understand that he is capable of lifting them to the point of touching their best self, the divinity within them. Some may even gain a glimpse of it, a memorable unforgettable experience. But will they let it happen? We are not left to find out for ourselves what the truth is. Now and then messengers appear among us, each bearing his own personal communication about the existence of a higher power and the need of a higher life. We may help the Overself in drawing us to the goal by surrendering to the guidance of a competent spiritual adviser or we may obstruct it by clinging to the ego's. But an incompetent adviser will also obstruct it, and in fact become a channel for the ego's truth-obscuring tactics. The difficulty of the task of self-improvement is not to be underrated and it is because of this as well as for other reasons that seekers since ancient times have been advised to obtain the help of a guru. From him they can get inspiration, guidance, and a certain telepathically transferred strengthening power which is called Grace.It is not necessary to be living always near a guru in a monastery as so many seem to think. What is really necessary is to meet him on this physical plane once only, even if it be just for five minutes. After that his help can be received inwardly and mentally by telepathy without any further physical meeting. This is because the real guru is not the body, but his inner being, the Mind behind the body, and it is that inner being with which the seeker must try to come into relation. Such a relation he builds up himself by his own mental attitude, by his faith devotion and obedience to the way that is shown.
Wherever there is instruction to be got there is an ashram. And whenever you go there you will get instruction from the experiences of life. Therefore the whole world is an ashram to a discerning student. Much the same applies to the question of a teacher. Says a Bengali verse: "Wouldst thou make obeisance to thy master, my heart? He is there at every step, on each side of thy path. The welcome offered thee is thy master, the agony inflicted on thee is thy master. Every wrench at thy heartstrings that maketh the tears flow is thy master." Any book or person seen or art production which reminds a man of his diviner self, is to that extent his teacher. Any happening or event or experience which alienates him from such remembrance, whether it be regarded by the world as good or as evil, likewise is his teacher. Even his own unworthy actions will, because of the consequences to which they must infallibly lead, also be his teachers. Those whose inner development or outer circumstances or personal karma have prepared them for the truth will come to it anyway: they may need a little prodding or a lot of reflection, but in the end they will recognize it for what it is. But they confound this recognition with the relation of discipleship to some guru. The two things need to be separated if they are to be correctly understood. Teaching is always available in some way or some form, for Life, through varied situations, takes care of its own; but a Teacher in his physical form may not be available just at the necessary point in time. In that case, one may be met through his writings. If this does not happen, he may come into the mental life during a great anguish or an enforced inactivity or an unusual relaxation or, finally, through or during meditation. (Mira Bai) "On the way I found two guides: the spiritual preceptors and God. To the preceptors I make my bow. But God I keep in my heart."The need for a teacher
Happiness depends on our understanding of life, understanding depends upon the penetration of insight, insight depends upon right instructions received from a competent teacher. The inspirational and moral, the intellectual and meditational helps which a competent guide can give to a worthy disciple are valuable. If such a worthy, honourable, selfless, experienced, and expert guide can be found--and this may be counted exceptionally good fortune--the disciple should certainly submit to his tutelage and surrender to his influence. The need of a saviour arises from the fact that the ego cannot lift itself by its own bootstraps, cannot rise out of its own dimension into a higher one, and will not willingly encompass its own destruction. Yet its spiritual career arrives eventually at a point where it finds and sees that it has done what it could, that further efforts are futile, and that only some power outside itself can bring about the next forward move. However, it may not without self-deception declare this point to be reached when in fact it ought to continue with its strivings; it may not cease prematurely from its struggles. If it does so, then it would be equally futile to seek a master's grace. Those who refuse to admit that a Master is essential to the neophyte will at least grant that his aid is advisable. Only a man severely handicapped or a fool would undertake the study and practice of medicine, or building, or of any other art without a teacher, an expert who has himself mastered the subject. How then can anyone take up the art of soul-unfoldment, subtle and recondite as it is, without realizing the usefulness of a Master? Heaven lies within and without us, it is true. But in most cases, only by the intervention of some authentic spiritual genius do we seem able to translate this into actuality for ourselves. Life is teaching us all the time but its voice needs a human being as a more direct medium, its lessons need human speech or writing to gain clearer utterance. Nature herself is forever silently voicing these majestic truths and if we are unable to receive them from her lips, as we usually are, then we must receive them from a teacher's lips. We know that the mere reading of books and journals is not enough, and our essential conviction (as also the acknowledgment of the Orient since time immemorial) is that a personal guide who can instruct and inspire one to travel through the twilit jungle land which lies between ignorance and truth is indispensable. The missing element in many quests is the spiritual guide. One of the greatest helps to convert our timid thoughts and our trembling wishes into deeds is the inspiration received from a superior mind. Most men find they need a concrete symbol to receive their devotion and concentrate their aspiration. In short, they find they need a Spiritual Leader, be he historical and of the past, or contemporary and of the present. The purposes of human evolution require the presence at all times through human history of some spiritually fulfilled individuals to act as guides or teachers. At no period has the race been left entirely without them, no matter how bleak, how savage, or how materialistic the period has been. Every generation has to find its own way through these mysteries and to these truths anew, despite the heavy freight of recorded teachings and revelations which it receives from all the previous ones. This is why new prophets have always been needed to provide the old, old clues. Something or someone is needed to draw us from the ego to the Overself behind it. When he finds out that all his efforts at self-improvement are movements around a circle, that the ego does not really intend to give itself up in surrender to the Overself and therefore only pretends to do so, he realizes that left to himself he cannot succeed in really changing his inner centre of gravity. Help is needed from some outside source if he is to free himself from such a hopeless position. It is said that wisdom comes with experience. But the sages who offer to impart it, whether in person or in writing, may save us some of the effort and suffering which accompany experience. While the dream is still continuing, he cannot help taking its scenes and figures as being quite real. But if someone rings a bell until he awakens from the dreaming state, he will then see that both scenes and figures were mere figments of his own imagination. In a sense, the teacher of philosophy acts as this awakener did, except that he directs his efforts to the sense-deceived consciousness of everyday life. It is not enough to set up a spiritual ideal for him to attain. He needs also the psychological help, the emotional and mental re-education which can remove large obstructions to that attainment. No seeker is so wise, so informed, so perfect, or so balanced as not to need the constructive criticism and expert counsel of a true spiritual guide. If someone knows what I do not yet know, if he has trodden farther on this path, then it is well to learn from him if he will teach me. A man needs comfort and support in these times more than in ordinary times. Where can he best find them? By sitting humbly in intellectual discipleship under those who have been blessed by the higher power with the revelation of its own existence. He can absorb from them a certitude that the world is still ruled by higher laws and its history by higher purposes. Such is the world today, with its tensions and greeds, its confusions and wrongs, its ignorance and evil-doing, that if anyone has a store of virtue and an awareness of divinity, people have need of them and hence of him. There is too little of the one and hardly any of the other among us. The instruction and criticism of a qualified living guide are worth having. But owing to the rarity of such guides, many seekers are unable to find one. He should appreciate the value of finding a master worthy of being followed. The inner demand of the one will attract in time the outer meeting with the other. No maniac can cure himself. We dare not leave the treatment of humanity's mania entirely to the humanity themselves. The help of sane outsiders is needed. But it should be given indirectly and unobtrusively. If the more mature, older, and more experienced nightingales find it necessary to give lessons in singing to the younger ones, why not the same situation among human beings? It is the greatest irony of man's existence that in the end he will be saved from his meanness and misery not by those who shout the loudest but by the quietest, the most silent of his fellows. For the power and knowledge which he will gain from discipleship with them will be what he needs above all else--power over the baseness in himself and knowledge of the divine World-Idea. It is when one reaches the end of a particular phase and has first to find, then to begin a new one that help from outside is useful. The same is true when one reaches a difficult place on the Quest. This help may be found in a book, a lecture, a guru, a chance meeting, or in some other way. The beginner cannot take his lessons from the skies. He has to find a teacher, even if only to impart the right atmosphere and inculcate the right ideas. The use of a teacher is, firstly, suggestive. His influence is a definite aid to incline us to travel along the proper path. It is, secondly, protective, for under his constant guidance we learn to be wary of pitfalls. Not only is the teacher helpful in pointing out the proper path to be followed and also in exposing the errors of the disciple but furthermore in bestowing upon him an impetus to the practice of meditation and the strength to obtain the concentration required for it. The impetus is needed because through long habit engendered over many reincarnations of the past, most people are unbalanced. That is, they are either too extroverted and overactive with outward matters or live in a state of continual mental restlessness through being too busy with their own thoughts. The strength is needed because keeping the attention along a single track and sustaining it for a certain period is an extremely difficult task. Once the inner contact has been properly established, quite often the mere thought of the master will be enough to inspire the disciple and thus give him both the impetus and the strength required to make his attempts at meditation more effectual. Other results of associating with one who is more spiritually advanced are that it incites a student to excel himself, strengthens him in the resolve to pursue the quest, and fans the spark of longing for the Divine. It is said in the Yogic and Sufi schools that the company of enlightened men tends to arouse those who dwell in darkness to seek light, as it tends to hasten the development of those who are already engaged in this search. In the single matter of learning meditation alone one will encounter all sorts of obstacles within oneself and difficulties without. They will be much more easily and quickly overcome if one places oneself under the training of an expert preceptor whose long experience in this matter and natural gift for guiding others makes his advice mentally enlightening and practically useful. The help of a master shows itself principally, and is chiefly important in, the course taken by the mind during meditation. One of the chief benefits of meeting with an illumined book or an inspired man, is that such an encounter opens up the possibility of moving more swiftly from a lower to a higher standpoint. It opens up truths which would ordinarily be too far ahead to be noticed, thus acting like a spiritual telescope. It also brings us face to face with our own errors in thought and conduct. Such a movement might otherwise take several years or sometimes a whole lifetime. But it remains only a possibility. It is for us to recognize the true character of the opportunity and for us to grasp and take the fullest advantage of it. It may be that he keeps the spiritual quest in the background of his mind only. If so he needs a quickening impulse. Such an impulse can be given him but only by a master. He imparts the necessary impetus which helps the student towards the realization of his finest aspirations. Whoever seeks to raise his own consciousness to the Overself's, will get most help from seeking out an individual who has already accomplished that task. In the presence of someone whose own consciousness is in the Overself, he will receive the inward inspiration which can energize and lead his personal efforts in the same direction. The entrance of a book of truth, or of a man bearing truth, into the aspirant's life will, at certain periods when he is ready and prepared for further development, be like turning on the light in a room to shut out the darkness. The earnest seeker will get more from a single meeting with a truly inspired man than from attendance at a hundred sessions in an organized spiritual school or ashram. For the first will awaken his intuition whereas the second will merely add to his information. The first will really advance his progress whereas the second will only give the illusion of doing so. But such is the widespread ignorance and inexperience of these things, as well as the suggestive power of pomp and prestige, that the organized institution will always attract fifty followers where the lone illuminate will attract five. The master can see the disciple's character and motives, hidden complexes and unrevealed weaknesses better than he can himself. His own little experience may be too limited to comprehend mystical revelations aright. Consequently he may in parts or at times misinterpret them. A safeguard against this is first, to call in the experience of other seekers, which he may do through their books or speech, and second, to call on authority, which he may do through joining his inner life to a trustworthy teacher. The beginning aspirant lacks the experience to judge himself aright and even the intermediate lacks the impersonal view to judge himself correctly. Even a single meeting with a master is vastly important to the aspirant. He may never enter into any personal relation with the master but that meeting will alone suffice to do four fundamental things. It will vindicate the value of his aspirations and demonstrate their attainability; it will convince him that the Overself does exist and show him in what direction he is to seek it. When he himself forgets it, man is reminded of his divine linkage by prophets, teachers, and sages. One advantage of having a personal teacher is that, to some extent, you can watch his mind work. A human channel is needed for the superhuman inspiration, grace, teaching, or revelation because the recipient minds are not sufficiently sensitive, pure, or prepared to receive it directly for themselves. So long as experience and results have not established sufficient confidence in his intuitive guidance and sufficient trust in his philosophic knowledge, he needs to continue travelling with a teacher. The master is the wonderful catalyst who makes possible a quickened development, an inspired renewal of the aspirant's inner life. Teaching is necessary. How can those who do not know the true cause of their afflictions know the way out of them? Someone must warn them, someone must awaken them. What the earnest mind is struggling to formulate to itself vaguely and uncertainly and unclearly, the teacher states decisively, assuredly, and definitely. A phrase or two, coming from an inspired man, may set a subconscious process working in the mind of another and lead him in the end to acquire a new truth or a new view. Those who come forward as gurus driven by the ego, the ambitions, and ulterior motives are not gurus at all. They are trespassers on a fine vocation. We must remember that those who work to earn a livelihood and come home tired have not the time or strength to think for themselves or to search for themselves. For them the ready-made support of established religion is indeed helpful, while the guidance of sincere, competent, and available teachers is even more sought for. To follow one's own path, rejecting the idea of seeking the expert help, tested knowledge, and accumulated experience of a Master is to follow a haphazard course of trial and error. The determination to maintain such independence and to make one's way by one's own effort is not of much use. One will be far better off working under guidance than without it. An aspirant is most fortunate if he has been led safely upwards past the delusory sidetracks and bypaths which detain so many other seekers. Only in this way can his consciousness arrive at what really constitutes the Highest Truth. At a certain stage in the life of the aspirant it is of the utmost importance to him that he improve his character and karma. This, neither he nor anyone can hope to do so effectively alone as when studying under a genuine teacher. In the latter case, it is possible for him to accomplish within a relatively short time that which would ordinarily require many more years of floundering self-effort. Sri Ramakrishna once said: "A man who himself approaches God with deep longing for Him, and earnest prayer, will find Him even if he has no guru." When asked why a teacher was necessary at all, he replied, "Very few people have this deep yearning and therefore the guru is necessary for them." By this he meant that the teacher inspires and encourages seekers of God not to give up when the going is difficult, but to stick to the Quest, regardless of the many long years it inevitably takes. It is always pleasant to learn that a seeker has found a good teacher. It may be puzzling then to hear that the teacher can no longer continue with his pupil. However, in such a case, the individual should not be unnecessarily distressed, because he can most certainly continue to make progress on the Quest irrespective of whether or not he has an outward teacher. All he needs to do is to pray humbly to God, whose love and forgiveness will accompany him always where a human teacher's cannot. We do not go all the way with the Tibetan saying that "without the guru you cannot get liberation," but we do go part of the way. The need of a guide and mentor is obvious but this is no reason to exaggerate it to the extent that so many have done. Is there then no real need of a master? The answer is "No!" for some men but "Yes!" for most men. He is needed to wake up the sleeper by telling him the highest truth from the very first time, and then descend by degrees to the stages while still holding on to the truth. The master serves only by showing a seeking person his real self, his Overself: or holding a mirror up to him. This can be called, also, giving him a "glimpse," or, more truthfully, being used by the higher power as a vehicle to do so. He who is working under the guidance of a master is not exempt from making mistakes, but he will make fewer and expose them sooner and correct them quicker than he who is not. I write all this in no sneering or disparaging manner, but rather as one who understands sympathetically the need of most beginners and many intermediates to find guidance outside themselves for the all-sufficient reason that they cannot find it inside. Indeed it is because I have been a disciple that I myself know why others become one, and can approve of their action. But that experience is also why I know the limitations and disservices of a discipleship. To say that no teacher is necessary is to set oneself up as a teacher by that very statement. The original Shankara, Adi Shankara, made it an absolute necessity that whoever sought to realize the spiritual Truth must seek out a guru. This injunction has hypnotized the Indians who came after him as it hypnotized those before his time because it was laid down in the Mundaka Upanishad long, long before. Shankara even warned his readers and hearers that even an expert student of the Vedas should not engage in such a search by himself. Yet there are several cases in Indian history where men have experienced this realization without any guru whatever. Self-instruction cannot be as correct and efficacious as instruction by an expert, a specialist, or a fully experienced person who can also communicate adequately as a teacher. We need to build up an intimate inner relationship with a being whose compassion is wide enough to understand us and whose power is developed enough to help us. It does not matter that he is dead. Those who know only a single mode of living, that of the extrovert, or a single mode of thinking, that which is sense-based, need to expose themselves for sufficient time to the influence of a spiritual master before they can begin to become even dimly aware that they have a soul. But since a fully evolved master is hard to find, something else must act as his next best substitute. This must necessarily be an inspired writing produced by such a man. The truth is that nearly all aspirants need the help of expert human guides and printed books when they are actively seeking the Spirit, and of printed books at least when they are merely beginning to seek.(P)Books as teachers
It is not essential to find a teacher in the flesh--he may be in print. A book may become a quite effective teacher and guide. In the absence of a sage's personal society, one may have recourse to the best substitute--a sage's printed writings. Most students seeking inspiration have no other choice than recourse to the printed words. Books are most useful to those who, whether by necessity through lack of sincere competent instruction or by choice, to avoid narrow sectarianism, seek the goal by themselves. Inspired texts, portions of scriptures, great men's writings and sayings offer guidance on the course of action to be followed, the ethical considerations to be heeded, the decisions to be made under certain pressures, crises, or confrontations--decisions whose consequences are often quite grave. Who can price the value of such readings at such times? The personal contact with a master does not necessarily require a face-to-face meeting. It can also be effected through a letter written by him--nay, to some degree, even through a book written by him. For his mind incarnates itself in these productions. Thus, those who are prevented by circumstances from meeting him physically, may meet him mentally and gain the same results. The perspicacious student will cling steadfastly throughout his life to the writings of illumined masters, returning to them again and again. Their works are the truest of all, pure gold and not alloys. There are men whose thought went deeper and understood more clearly than that of their fellows. Their record exists, their sayings and writings also. Their study is worthwhile, their precepts can be put to the test in practical everyday living. In these books the voice of men who were spiritually illuminated long ago speaks to him. They are the only way in which it can speak to him today. Therefore he should respect and cherish them. Those who have towered above all other men as Masters, who have left records of their path and of its attainment, can be good guides. Why not make these great men your teachers through their preserved teachings? Why not be the disciple of Socrates, Buddha, Saint Paul, and dozens of others? However distant a teacher may be, whether in country or century, by means of this written record he is able to help whoever is willing to lend his time and eyes. If a book gives correct teaching about the quest and necessary warning about its pitfalls, it should be studied with proper care and respect. A man can take from the printed word what he is unable to hear from the spoken word. The truth-seeker will be wise to make use of such outward helps as appeal to him. They may be the written word, the printed book, the molded statuette, the pictorial representation, or the human photograph--always provided they are referable to a genuinely inspired source. He should study the words and works, the lives and examples of practising mystics, and follow in their footsteps. Good books are not to be disdained, despite contemptuous references by fanatical mystics or ill-balanced ascetics. Negatively, they will warn him against misleading elements likely to cause a deviation from his correct course. Positively, they will guide him where no personal guide is available. But he must beware of imagining that the pleasure he derives from spiritual reading is any sign that he is making progress in spiritual living. It is easier to read lofty thoughts than to think them out for oneself, and to live them is the most difficult of all. Books, too, serve as guides if they are properly used, that is, if their limitations are recognized and if their authors' limitations are acknowledged. In the first case it is the intellect's own inability to transcend thought that stops it from realizing truth. In the second case it is the evolutionary status of the man's ego, and the accuracy of his attitudes--themselves victims or controllers of his emotions, passions--which matter. For if his mind cannot register the impact of truth, because of the blockage set up partially or even all around him, the author's work will reflect his ignorance. He cannot teach what he does not know; his own mental obscurity can lead only to the reader's obscurity. Yet such is the deceptiveness of thought, that a wrong or false idea may be received and held in the mind under the belief that it is a right or true one. Book teaching is too general. It makes no allowance for individual differences, for the wide variation from one person to another. It is always necessary for the readers to adapt the teaching to their own sex, age, character, strength, and circumstances. The very fine writings of philosophers and mystics of all times may bring into one's life some emotional inspirational and intellectual guidance, even, possibly, stimulating his power of will. Through the long, unavoidable years of struggle on the Quest, they can, to that extent, act the part of a teacher or guide. However, it must be remembered that some are infinitely more worthwhile than others, and it is essential for one to be able to discriminate between what is true and helpful and what is false and worthless. These subjects are becoming more widely known and more studied than they were a half-century ago. There has been quite a flow of literature, original works, commentaries, and translations in our time making both mystical and philosophic ideas more available. With the universal spread of elementary education, and the issue of cheaper paper-covered texts and translations, it is now possible for most earnest seekers living in the free countries to come into possession of the teaching. If he cannot understand the more intellectual portions of these books he should not worry because they are written for different classes and those portions which he cannot follow are particularly addressed to highbrows and have to be expressed in a more complicated and scientific style. If the literature on these subjects is so much larger today, the problem of choosing correctly what is most reliable is so much more difficult. The writings of these Masters help both the moral nature and the intellectual mind of the responsive and sensitive, who are excited to the same endeavour, exhilarated to the same level, and urged to realize the same ideas. These stand out from all other writings because they contain vivid inspiration and true thought. From these great writings, he will receive impulses of spiritual renewal. From these strong paragraphs and lovely words he will receive incitement to make himself better than he is. Their every page will carry a message to him; indeed, they will seem to be written for him. One of the helps to kindle this spark into a flame is the reading of inspired literature, whether scripture or not--the mental association through books with men who have themselves been wholly possessed by this love. With such books he will feel for a while better than he is, wiser than he is. Every book which stimulates aspiration and widens reflection does spiritual service and acts as a guru. A chance phrase in such an inspired writing may give a man the guidance for which he has long been waiting. The words of inspired men are like a lighthouse to those seekers who are still groping in the dark. Perhaps one prime value of a book is its power to remind students of fundamental principles and its ability to recall them to the leading points of this teaching, for these are easily lost or overlooked amid the press of daily business. He will draw from such reading the incentive to keep on with his quest and the courage to set higher goals. It may not be in the power of any piece of writing to guide a man all the way along this quest but it certainly is in its power to give him general direction and specific warning. Let him study the literature of mystical and philosophic culture to become better informed about the Quest, about its nature and goal, and about himself. By comparing what is described in the books with what he has so far experienced for himself, an aspirant may check and correct his course. Those who were awakened by this reading could then look elsewhere for the personal guidance they seek. Through a book help is given without involving the helper in the personal lives of the readers, but through a letter or a meeting involvement begins.Issues in seeking a teacher
It is a man's own fault if, through his failure to seek spiritual guidance or understanding, none is vouchsafed to him. "Ask, and it shall be given unto you," said Jesus in this reference, which complements and is necessary to the assertion of the Chinese sage: "Those who know do not speak." It is said, "When a pupil is ready, the Master appears." This means that such is the wonderful sensitivity of the mind, such is the reality of telepathic power, that when a man's search for truth has reached a crisis, he will meet the man who or the book which can best resolve that crisis. But the crisis itself must be filled with uncertainty and doubt, with helplessness and despair before the mysterious forces of the Overself will begin to move towards his relief. It should seem to him the most momentous consequence that it shall be brought to a satisfactory end, if life in the future is to have any meaning for him at all. There must be a sense of inner loneliness so acute that outer loneliness compares as nothing with it. There must be no voice within his world which can speak to his condition. This critical period must fill his mind with exaggeration of its own self-importance to such an extent as to blot out every other value from life. It will be at such an opportune moment, when his search for truth will be most intense and the required preparation for meeting its bearer most complete, that the bearer himself will arise and bring into his night the joyful tidings of dawn. The influence of such a man or his book at such a period is incalculable. Emerson gives its innermost meaning in his lines, "If we recall the rare hours when we encountered the best persons, we there found ourselves. . . . God's greatest gift is a Teacher." The seeker knows at last that even if he has not found the truth he is at least on the way to finding it. He has begun to find harmony with himself. If the strong yearning for truth be absent, a man may meet a thousand masters of the quest but he will neither recognize them for what they are nor experience any exaltation in their presence. This yearning must indeed be as strong as the hunger of a starving man or the desperation of a traveller lost in the desert. There has arisen too much harm and exploitation from the teacher-seeking attitude of some. Firstly, the request for a teacher should arise from a deep, sustained, and urgent sense of needing such help--not merely for the sake of having one. In obedience to this inner urge he should take a path which will lead him to the friendship of the few sages living in his time and bring him to their feet. The man who begins to feel this need in himself should seek out spiritual direction. He should find an authoritative source to instruct him in spiritual truth and to clear up his questions. Contrary to common belief, the teacher is not found in the inner psychic life first and then the discovery reflected in the outer physical life later. He is met first in the flesh; but the discovery must eventually become a settled psychic fact before any real relationship can be established between the two. He must be found unshakeably established in the innermost depths of the heart as a presence and in the background of the mind as a picture. His desperate need drives him to go in search of help wherever he can find it. His Overself may lead him to seek and find another man who shall be its intermediary with him: its representative to him, its image for him. A knowledge worth understanding is not less important than a teacher worth seeking. If a seeker believes that he has achieved a certain extent of self-preparation and self-purification, if he is convinced of the desperate need of a master, and if he does not succeed in finding a worthy one, then let him pray for help in the matter. It is not enough to try to follow the counsel given by prophets, mystics, and sages, to look within. It is necessary also to look deep enough and long enough to get really worthwhile results. This applies just as much to the search for help as to the search for truth. The individual seeking a teacher must not be disappointed nor discouraged if he is not accepted as a pupil. Prayer and aspiration directed toward the Higher Self will bring the sought-for guidance from within. Moreover, he may have been given help of which he is as yet unaware and, eventually, this will come through into his conscious mind. He should not exaggerate the need for a teacher. Ultimately, his development will depend on principles rather than on personalities. The seeker should resolve to appeal directly by constant aspiration and prayer to his own higher self, in the knowledge that it alone can help him if he is to work without a teacher. On the other hand, if his karma has decreed that he is to have a guide, his higher self will bring before him the mental image or intuitive thought of the Master. If this happens, he will not need to seek out the Master's physical person; the inner picture will bring results. Although it is true that meeting with inspired men does arouse some persons for the first time to the need of a higher life, it is also true that deep probing would show to what a large extent previous events or reflections had already mentally led such persons to the verge of this need. The inspired teacher does not create it. He only indicates it. Fate brings him at the right moment into the other person's life to enable this to be done. And somewhere, sometime, for every man who sincerely seeks there must come a Guide, merely because this personal opening of the gate is part of Nature's program. At times it seems to him that the help promised him has not materialized. This is his opinion. But it may also be that his ego was so strong that the help could not reach him because the ego stood in the way too obstinately. In any case it should have been made clear to him in books and conversations that the advanced mystic is not a Master but only a fellow student. If he could not get the required help from such a one he must accept the fact that it simply was not meant to be. Even when a teacher is found he may be a master of one path only and unable to guide aspirants properly along those with which they have individual affinity and for which they have the requisite mental or emotional or volitional capacity. Another false idea is that the masters seek out disciples, make the advance towards them, whether "astrally" or physically. On the contrary, aspirants must take the first step themselves, must request acceptance. With all my Western education and intellectual outlook, I am still simple enough to believe, with Eastern people, that it is worthwhile making a journey to get the blessing of a superior person. But although philosophers do not engage in making proselytes or in starting crusades, the man who is attracted by any tenet of philosophy will sooner or later find someone who will be ready to explain or discuss it with him. When it is said that the readiness of the seeker determines the appearance of the master, this applies to the first fundamental initiation of his spiritual life. It does not mean that a master will come into his town and seek him out, but that he will come into his life. And this may be brought about in various ways--as by the seeker himself being led, either by worldly circumstances or by his own seeking, out of his own town to the town or country where the master is living. The location of his spiritual guide will in part be the accident of his own geographical situation, for he will obviously be limited in his selection to possibilities and reputations in his own country or nation or race. The sheer physical and financial difficulties of travelling throughout the world--not to mention the obstacles of personal circumstance, family obligations, and ignorance of where to search and whom to approach in foreign lands, combine to set this limitation upon his inquiry and hence upon his opportunity. It is foolish to seek holiness geographically or holy men in particular places. I have found that one man may live in a Himalayan abode and be a scoundrel and another man may live in a Bowery slum and be a saint. Wherever they live, men always carry their own thoughts and their own selves with them. The Soul, which is the object of our quest, is within us. The Master, who is to guide us upon our quest, will appear whenever we are ready for him and wherever we happen to live--or else we will be led to him. There are men in the West, in Europe and America, not less wise and noble than any men in Tibet and India. If we have not met them, "the fault, Dear Brutus is . . . in ourselves,," primarily in our unworthiness, and secondarily in our incapacity to recognize what is beneath the surface. It is not necessary in the modern West to follow the Oriental custom of living with or near the Teacher. However, it is advisable to try to arrange a meeting, even if only for a few minutes. When this is impossible, one substitute is to enter into a written correspondence with him--and to keep his photograph in a hallowed place where one's eyes fall frequently upon it and one is thus reminded many times a day of the need to work continuously at improving oneself and one's character. The effect of the first meeting with a master fades off with time, like the effect of a mystical glimpse. When that happens it needs to be renewed by another meeting, and that again in turn still later by a third. It is right and just that the ardent aspirations of a sincere candidate should eventually bring him a rewarding meeting in person with someone more advanced or in print with a qualified disciple. If he merits more, if he adds preparation to his aspirations, then a personal meeting with such a disciple may follow. But it is wrong and unjust for him to be too demanding. He should expect further meetings only as he works upon himself enough to be worthy of them, as well as only as the disciple has time to spare for them. And if he is so fortunate as to meet an adept, he should be satisfied with that single meeting. Such a meeting always brings certain tests with it and usually leads either to a powerful enhancement of the relation or to an abrupt cancellation of it altogether. This is because the tests arise from the power of opposition. The beginner who ventures out in quest of a teacher may have to stumble from charlatan to incompetent until he either finds the right one or abandons the effort as impossible. In most of the other affairs of life we find it necessary to use the services of specialists. Just so, here. We surrender our body to the surgeon. We must surrender our mind to the spiritual guide. Both, if incompetent or unscrupulous, may maim us for life. It is of the greatest importance therefore to exercise right judgement in the choice of one or the other. When Dillip Roy, a famous Bengali musician, first came to Sri Aurobindo for an interview, the latter said: "You must tell me clearly what it is exactly that you seek and why you want to do my yoga. Seekers approach yoga with diverse aims. Some want to get away from life. Others aspire after supreme bliss. Yet others want yoga power or knowledge or a poise impervious to the shocks of life. So you must first be definite as to what, precisely, you seek in yoga." If he falls into the wrong hands, or if he lets himself be guided by an incompetent amateur instead of a wise and expert man, his way will be hindered and even the good he thinks he does get will turn out to be evil. He should be determined to wait calmly for the assent of his whole being before he makes a decision which must necessarily and tremendously affect his whole future. Most people react strongly to these gurus--either emphatic rejection straightway or infatuated acceptance superficially. A clear perception which is unaccompanied by sitting in judgement or rushing into acquiescence, which justly notes what is, unidealized yet unbiased evaluation, is rare. The ordinary aspirant, whose intuition is not sufficiently developed, should test the man he proposes to accept as his master. This will require him to watch the other closely for a period of time. In some cases a week will give the answer, in others three months will be needed. In all cases, the aspirant ought not commit himself until he has had enough evidence that he is committing himself rightly. Discrimination is of utmost importance in the selection of a spiritual path and Teacher. One must apply all his intelligence and intuition, caution and common sense to a decision of such consequence. Those who lack the innate discernment or wide experience needed to detect the real character and true capacity of a master, should wait sufficiently long and seek outside advice before entrusting themselves to him. The faith that the Overself is working through a particular man can be tested for its validity by watching, for a sufficient length of time, what happens to those who reject him utterly or respond to him ardently. In their excessive eagerness to discover a master, they fail to practise discernment. But to wait for the true master requires a certain patience and strength. A true sage is hard to find. A false one, drooling his plagiarisms or his platitudes, is easy to find. Just because a man happens to feel he has attained happiness or truth, is no sufficient ground for accepting that he has done so. He could get the same feeling out of the self-betraying attainment of the illusion of happiness and the illusion of truth. Hence we have not only to overcome the difficulty of finding honest and disinterested spiritual guidance but also the difficulty of finding competent undeceived guidance. This problem of finding a master in what is almost a masterless world, is a difficult one. The only realistic suggestion which can be given is to select somebody in whom you have so far been able to place most confidence. But if such a person does not exist, then select the book which helps you most and make it your tutor. The next best thing to studying under a teacher, if the latter is not available, is to associate with his mental image, where the latter is available through a previous meeting. If, however, even this is not possible then the seeker should study the teacher's writings. In this way the teacher takes the disciple by the hand through the medium of the printed word. The seeker who is fumbling for the right direction to take should welcome the help of a competent guide. But where such a guide is not personally forthcoming, the best substitute is a personal disciple of his or, failing that, a book written by him. The disciples' case-histories of a spiritual guide, like the patients' case-histories of a medical physician, are always instructive and significant. As to the public teachers of the occult, there are none in the West really competent to lead people into truth, whatever their claims may be. The real teachers are so rare nowadays that it is almost impossible to find them. In these circumstances it is safer and wiser to confine oneself to the study of authoritative books rather than to associate with inferior sources of help. The seeker who has gone unsatisfied from cult to cult for several years should waste no further time seeking God through such organizations or through self-named Masters but should strive earnestly to purify his heart of all lower feelings, such as anger, envy, irritability, fear, and depression, and work constantly on his character to improve it. After vigorously doing this for at least six months he may begin to pray daily for further guidance. It is often said that when the pupil is ready the Master will appear. But I have not yet read anyone's additional statement--that he may be invisible and unhearable--that is, he may be entirely within you. I do not say that finding the master internally in this manner is the best way, but that for many seekers it is the only way. Their own limitations combine with destiny to make it so. If it is his destiny to find a master only in the mind and not in the body, if circumstances force him to search internally and not externally, then he will be wise to accept the leading and not rebel against it. For he will find that, faithfully followed, it will bring him to a vivid presence within, a voice that guides where there is seemingly none to guide. In many matters it is needful to submit to the will of destiny. He should know, however, that by the right mental attitude, the inner contact and the inner meeting can be obtained even if the outer cannot. That inner meeting, after all, is the real one--more real than the physical. It is enough to have had a single physical meeting to receive ever afterwards the possibility of this inner contact. The truth is that the Master may appear in three ways: first, inwardly alone for the whole lifetime; second, inwardly at first as "the Interior Word" and then later as the physically embodied human guide; third, as the embodied Master from the very beginning. The first two cases presuppose the practice of meditation and its development to a certain degree of intensity. The third case needs no prior meditation but it does require an attitude of search for truth, help, or guidance developed to as great an intensity as in the other cases. The difficulty which you mention about finding a teacher need not be overrated. You have within yourself a ray of God, which is your own soul. If you pray to and beseech it constantly for guidance, it will surely lead you to all that you really need to know. All seeking and finding of spiritual instruction through a spiritual teacher becomes real, in the end, on a mental plane only. Therefore he should direct his efforts in that direction with complete faith. Those whose quest of the Overself through a master has failed them should take this very failure as instruction on the quest itself. Let them remember that God is everywhere present, that there is no spot where God is not. Therefore, God is in them too. This indwelling presence is the Soul. Let them turn to it directly, no longer seeking someone else to act as an intermediary, no longer running here and there in search of him. Just where they are now is precisely where they may establish contact with God through their own Soul. Let them pray to it alone, meditate on it, obey its intuitive behests, and they will not need any human agent. From this moment they should look to no one else, should follow the Buddha's advice to depend on their own forces. But since these are lying latent within and need to be aroused, the aspirants need to exert themselves through physical regimes that will provide the energies needed for this great effort. If you can find someone whose person attracts you most, or whose teachings appeal to you more than those of others, or whose writings inspire you above all other men's writings, then make him your spiritual guide. You do not have to apply for his permission for it is to be done within the privacy of your own inner life. You are not dependent on his personal acceptance or rejection for the idea of him which you believe in and the image of him which you form to become alive and effectual. But, you will object, is not the whole process a self-deceptive one and does it not lead to worthless hallucination? We reply, it could become that if you misuse it and misinterpret its results, but it need not if you work it aright. For telepathy is a fact. Your faith in, and remembrance of, the other man lays a cable from your inner being to his own and there will flow back along it a response to your attitude. Those who seek a teacher may be reminded that they may take anyone who appeals to or inspires them, and by their own mental attitude of faith in and devotion towards him, together with obedience to his published teachings, draw inner help and inspiration telepathically from him. Thus they create for themselves a mental relationship which, to that extent, is not different from what would have come into being as part of the regular teacher-disciple relationship. They need also to be reminded that even after a physical meeting, in all cases a teacher can be found only when they are sufficiently sensitive to have the capacity to feel his mental presence within themselves and when they are sufficiently developed to be ready for him. The most practical course for most seekers is to engage in the work of self-improvement. What is the hope for those who are unable to enter the shrine of mysticism and have left the fold of religion? Are they to be abandoned to a bleak despair or a hard cynicism? Are they to become engulfed in the waters of moral wickedness? No, let them take the unseen hand of a personal saviour or spiritual guide, whether dead or alive--someone whom they believe to have attained adeptship in yoga, or sagehood in philosophy, and who has announced his intention to give his life to the enlightenment of mankind. Let him become their secret refuge. Let them ask and deserve his grace. The same help can be utilized by those who feel they cannot make the intellectual effort demanded by philosophy but wish to advance beyond the stage of ordinary mysticism in which they now rest. The wise and good dead men who have left their examples for imitation or their words for germination, and any living men whom we have heard met or read about--all these are our spiritual guides; all these can become our masters if we only make them so. Why then should we narrow ourselves down to a single man with a single point of view? If he cannot find entry into the society of a master, he can meditate upon the life stories of historic masters of the past. Let him take the significant situations and devotional attitudes of these great souls into his own thought and study, to analyse the one and imitate the other. Let him think often and long of their character and conduct. Let him also read and reread the written messages they have left us. In this way he will imbibe something of their quality. Such is the rarity of qualified teachers that today it is no longer a question of selecting one who particularly or personally appeals to the seeker, but of finding one at all! The search for a master is often fruitless and abortive. Why is this? The answer is first, that few such masters exist today and second, that few of the searchers are qualified to work with one. Those who have this knowledge are not easily accessible nor, even when found, do they easily divulge it. They are exceedingly rare. Not only are teachers more rare but the most sensitive seekers feel shyly inhibited from approaching them. It is a claim at once irrational and unjust that no man is to be saved who does not approach a master in the flesh. For few men can find such a master nor, finding him, can they always know him except from a distance. In ancient times there were few books to guide the aspirant and fewer still available to him. Consequently the need of a living guide was much greater than it is now. Even in ancient times such teachers were hard to find. "That Guru is rare who can bring riddance to his disciple from the sorrows which agitate his heart," says Skanda Puranam. Men of the highest spiritual calibre are not necessarily waiting around for disciples to come to them. They know quite well that each man is his own teacher in the end. If the aspirant is fortunate enough to meet a man or woman in person or writing who genuinely represents the true and real, no effort will be made to influence him; it will be left entirely to his own free choice whether he follow this light hidden behind a bushel or any will-o'-the-wisp masquerading as a light. It is hard to establish human contact with a master, hard to get him interested in one's personal activities. It is not the actual meeting with a master that constitutes its importance, but the recognition that he is a master. There are men who come as ambassadors from heaven, and the writings or arts of men, which come as revelators. But unless the reaction includes recognition, the contact is fruitless, the meeting useless. How shall he know who is really a master, and who is not? It is easy at a distance of a thousand years to put an estimate on those who have left the effect of their spiritual greatness on generation after generation, but it is hard to measure contemporaries who look like other ordinary mortals. Sometimes an aspirant, a candidate, a neophyte, or a disciple will refuse the opportunity of personal contact with a master when it occurs, because he feels unworthy, shamefaced, or even guilty. It is a grave mistake for him to reject what a favourable destiny thus offers him. However sinful he be, there is also the fact that he aspires to rise above his sins, else he would not feel sorry for them. However pure the master himself be, there is also the fact that he blames no one, shrinks from no one, extends goodwill to the virtuous and the sinful alike. Of the master it may truly be said that the utter absence of pride or conceit leads to the utter absence of the thought that he is holier than another. The chance to meet him should be taken despite all personal fears of him or personal feelings of one's own lack of virtue. Occasionally one feels he is not worthy enough to contact a spiritual teacher because he does not have a "clean heart." This is a wrong mental attitude. He needs assistance in getting this "clean heart" and there is nothing wrong in seeking such help. You will walk a long time or visit many cities before you find another illuminate. Greet him well, therefore, and think of him well, that you may make something of this fortunate meeting. It needs some humility and more discernment to approach such a man and ask him to give us the benefit of his knowledge, his insight, his experience, and his wisdom--all of which are unusual and rare. If such a man's presence, face, bearing, and teaching show something godlike in him, we should not hesitate to give him the benefit of recognition as being inspired, even if we are not willing to give more. Remember that the master is not likely to live as long as you are, since he is probably an older man. Take the best possible advantage therefore of his presence. If he lets the chance slip by unused, it may not occur again. He may secure valuable help from different sources that he meets on the way but he must above all find the teacher to whom he belongs by inner affinity and in whose school he feels most at home. Once found, he should stubbornly refuse to be drawn out of the teacher's orbit, for if he were to allow it to happen, he would lose precious years and encounter needless suffering, only to have to return in the end. Do what he may, he will not be able to change teachers permanently. The spiritual guide allotted to him by destiny, as well as by affinity, is the one he has to accept in the end if not in the beginning. This is his real master, the one whose image will rise again and again in his mind's eye, obscuring or blotting out the images of all other guides to whom the seeker turned for needed temporary direction. Among living mortals there is one with whom he may find this link, one whom he may never meet in the flesh but only through a photo, a work of art, a name uttered by someone, or perhaps through a piece of published writing. Among those who no longer live in the body, but with whom the link was made in former births, the echo will return and the idea itself will suffice. What we can hope to find today is no longer a teacher to instruct our minds nor a master to guide our steps but an inspirer to set us aflame, to show us the world as the Overself sees it. There is for each seeker only one man in the whole world who can do that. He and he alone can work this miracle. It is a strange mystery why destiny has decreed that these seekers after God should have to depend on this one man's lit mind and strong heart for the help they need more than on any other man's. Strange, because until they find him their search seems to have a great lack in it which almost brings them to anguish. The attraction which makes a man select someone as his master and makes the master willing to help him is analogous to chemical affinity. It is not that they deliberately and consciously choose one another but that they cannot help doing so. The master knows, automatically and immediately by his own intuition, whether a candidate for discipleship is in affinity with him or not, and hence whether to accept or reject the man or not. If he is sensitive and aspiring, and if there is any real spiritual power in the other man, he will feel involuntarily an internal excitement and an intuitive expectancy almost from the first minute of their meeting. But if he is also at a sufficient degree of readiness and longing to learn, and if there is personal or prenatal affinity with this other man, then he will feel shaken to the depths of his being, captured in mind and heart. For he will feel the beginnings of discipleship. With the meeting, the aspirant's supreme chance has come. When an aspirant comes into contact with an advanced soul, his own longing is like a magnet which itself spontaneously attracts spiritual force and thought from the other man. Thereupon he experiences an uplift and an enlightenment. If the meeting is a personal one this result is at its fullest. If through a book or letter written by the other man, it is still present but in a weaker degree. Seeking the Master: Great possibilities attach themselves to the first interview between the student earnestly seeking direction, needing guidance, or requesting counsel, and the illuminate who has established communion with his own Overself. These possibilities do not depend upon the length of time it takes nor upon what is said during the actual conversation itself. They depend upon the attitude which a student silently brings with him and upon the power which the illuminate silently expresses. In other words, they depend upon invisible and telepathic factors. Only when he is finally ready for a master will he find a true one. But to be ready the aspirant must bring his character to its highest possibility. When that is done then even at the first meeting the power of attraction will speak silently yet eloquently. Both will know, before that first meeting ends, that the other is the right one; there will be no doubts, no hesitations; they can exist only when judgement is wrong. He will know an affinity of soul that can and has previously been experienced with no one else. Affinity has its own clear language. It will put both men at perfect ease. When a sensitive heart, a receptive mind, and a strong yearning for spiritual perfection meet a man who embodies such perfection to a large degree, there is or should be some recognition, some brief purification, some intellectual clarification, some emotional exaltation, amounting in all to a miniature mystical experience. When the predestined disciple meets the master for the first time, he may feel either that he has known him before or else that he has known him always. Sometimes we have the feeling on meeting a stranger for the first time, that we have known him long and known him well. The feeling on first meeting the destined master is much the same but greatly expanded and deeply intensified. The feeling which is aroused on this contact--whether affinity or antipathy--must be his first guide to the choice of a master. He may feel the force of a real attraction when first meeting his master, in most cases, but it is just possible he may not. The man in whose presence your character rises to its best and your faith to its highest, is the man who can help you spiritually. Without this inward affinity it is of not much use to attach yourself to a guide, however reputed he may be. The seeker whose preconceived picture of what constitutes a master is correct--but this is uncommon--will be able to recognize one at their first meeting. He will feel with positive certainty the inner greatness of the master. Yet it does not follow that this is his particular master. There must also be a feeling of personal affinity as well as an intellectual appeal of the doctrines taught. Without this feeling of affinity, and the considerable satisfaction which derives from it, he would be prudent to look elsewhere and not accept this person as guru. Take that man as your teacher whose character and mentality approach the ideal you have formed, and with whose doctrine and personality you feel in sympathy. The meeting with a master is a rare opportunity which should not be missed but should be eagerly followed up. It may not recur again during one's own lifetime or during the master's lifetime. But it can be followed up only if the aspirant feels intuitively that there is a "ray of affinity" between them, through which the inner contact can be established. Sometimes disciples attach themselves to a master with whom they have no basic affinity. They have been drawn to him by a partial self-deception about his nature or by a partial misconception concerning his teaching. After a period has elapsed when the harmony with him or his teaching has come to an end, and the usefulness of both is not sufficient to justify the connection, they usually leave and seek elsewhere for inspiration or help. But in those cases where, for some improper reason, they fail to do so, he may deliberately provoke an incident or arrange a circumstance which will prompt them to go away. It often happens that seekers do not get the true master simply because they would not be attracted to him even when they met him. They naturally are drawn to one whose temperament, character, mentality, and actions are like their own. The unbalanced and the neurotic would be repelled by a sane and equable teacher, the hysterical by a disciplined one, the futile dreamers by an efficient and active one. There is really no choice in the matter--only the illusion of a choice. That which draws him to a particular master is predestination. He may try again and again with someone else. He may not wish to come to this man, but in the end he must come. His head may argue itself out of the attraction but his heart will push him back into it. It is said that a man will recognize in a moment the master with whom he has true affinity, when meeting his person or words. That is true, but the recognition may be so vague or partial or faint that a few years may pass before he will become aware of it, and hence before he takes any action about it. It would be foolish for anyone to continue to follow a teaching for which he has no liking, or a teacher with whom he has no affinity. But it would also be foolish to judge either by merely personal and emotional reactions alone. What is present in the surface consciousness as a mild interest may be present in the subconscious as a strong love. But, however long it may take, the disproportion will eventually be righted. When this happens, and as pertains to this particular matter, the man comes to know himself as he really is. This is why the meeting with an old Master or a new truth may not lead to immediate recognition, may indeed take some years to ripen. A guru who is supposed to be an enlightened man but who awakens no feeling of kinship, awe, peace, reverence, or goodness in the person who approaches him may not be enlightened at all--or may not be the proper affinity for the seeker, who may take this as a signal to look elsewhere. But it would also be a signal to be patient, wait a little, look deeper, and really get to know what is in this man. Something within seems to recognize the true teacher when he appears. This is not miraculous when one understands that the visible present has its root in the invisible past and that discipleship is a relation which reappears in birth after birth. However, the philosophic path does not depend only on faith or intuition but also on rational appeal and proved fact. Therefore, some time must elapse before one knows thoroughly that he has found the right path and the right teacher. Another sign that you have found the right master is when you find that he is the one who inspires you to go more deeply into yourself during meditation than any other. He will recognize his master not only by the feeling of affinity and the attraction of his teaching but also if, ever since the first physical meeting, the other man's face persistently keeps recurring to him. He who has found his destined Master will know it well after a few months at most. For he will find that it is as hard to leave the Master as for helpless steel filings to leave a powerful magnet. The blessing of peace or power which the seeker feels in such a man's presence, the fading away of all questions in his aura--these are indications of authenticity and spirituality. Another thing to look for as a sign of the right master is that his way of thinking should be congenial to the seeker. That person is best fitted to be a man's master with whom he is able to be his own best self. Humility is required to recognize that here is a man whose wisdom is greater than one's own. The kind of master he seeks will be a loving one--a master who is large-hearted enough to receive him, sins weaknesses foolishnesses and all. Other things being equal, choose your teacher from among those approaching the end of life, or at least well into middle life. For they have the mature experience which younger people lack; they can give the tranquil counsel which comes from the acceptance of life, the adjustment to its situations, and the waning of physical desires. The teacher is not to be measured only by his weaker disciples nor by his foolish ones. A juster measurement must take into reckoning the wiser and stronger ones also. What he has done for most of them has been done in spite of themselves, for the egos have thwarted or twisted his influence all too often. Nevertheless it is there and in twenty or thirty years it will still be there, inevitable and inescapable, awaiting the thinning down of the ego's resistance. It is a discriminating seeker who responds only to what is wise and true and fine in a teacher, but rejects what is frail or fallible in him. A student is often dismayed, anxious, or upset by the aura of apparent impersonality which surrounds the Teacher. Such reactions are natural but also must be checked--which can be done by learning to smile at oneself and be at peace. Do not look for truth among the unbalanced, the ego-obsessed, the brainless, the hysterical and the unsensitive. Look for it among the modest, the serene, the intuitive, the deep-divers and those who honour the Overself to its uttermost. Many take to an imperfect, half-competent or half-satisfactory teaching because no better one is available. Incompetent instruction is undesirable but it may be helpful in some cases if it is stopped at the proper point. The student may be certain that if there be competent guidance on this path there is no standing still. Either he must go forward and onward until he reaches the goal, or he must get rid of his guide. How useless it is to go to a teacher who has only an intellectual--that is, a talking--knowledge of it, for help is clearly shown by an old Hindu story. Once upon a time a certain king developed a desire to obtain divine consciousness. He obtained a Brahmi pundit as his guide. For two months he received teaching but found that he gained nothing in the actual experience of divinity. He thereupon threatened the Brahmin with his royal displeasure. The pundit returned home in a sorrowful state of mind. He had done his best and did not know how to satisfy the king. His daughter, who was a girl of high intelligence, saw her father's distress and made him tell her the cause. The next day she appeared at the court and informed the king that she could throw light on his problem. She then asked him to order his soldiers to bind both herself and himself to separate pillars. This was done. Then the girl said, "O King, release me out of this bondage." "What!" answered the king, "You speak of an impossibility. I myself am in bondage and how can I release you?" The girl laughed and said, "O King, this is the explanation of your problem. My father is a prisoner of this world-illusion. How can he set you free? How can you gain divinity from him?" If anyone who presents a world view really knows what he is talking about, there should be some noticeable vitality in his talk. If a teacher empties the purse or wallet of his pupils, be sure he is a false one. If he demands servility from them, he is most likely a false one. If he makes no response to someone's approach yet has the stamp of authenticity, he may not be the particular one with whom that person can find affinity. We have seen a number of spiritual teachers either arise in the West or come here from the East and each one seems to find a certain number of adherents. These teachers and their teachings are of varying quality and may be helpful to many of those who join them. But it is necessary to give a measure of warning against exaggerations made by the teachers about themselves or, if not, made by their followers. It is easy for untrained and inexperienced seekers to be taken in by confident claims to the highest enlightenment. It is better to look for the signs of humility and impersonality. A weakness among these cultists is that they persist in seeing their leader with a kind of character and a height of consciousness which are not sustained by the facts. He is turned into an unerring superman or even deified as a living god. His virtues are either exaggerated or invented, his most commonplace words are pondered over as if they were oracles of prophecy or epigrams of wisdom. And if they do not gift him with cosmic omniscience and total prescience, he is gifted with something like it. The consequence is that the expectations of votaries, having been lifted too high, must fall too low when his personality is deflated and his shortcomings are exposed. Their disappointment inevitably follows. However, since not many spiritual seekers of the kind who join organizations are possessed of the qualities of discrimination and intelligence, the bulk of his followers cling to their idol. An honest and sincere leader would be alarmed at such exaggerated worship, and do his utmost in self-deprecation to bring it to an end. He knows that making a cult of a particular person will divert attention from the proper object of devotion. The excessive importance given to the guru, the exaggerated devotion given to him, can only have value in the earlier stages of the quest. The point of view then present has so much ego in it that the aspirant would not be satisfied unless he had a guru. But it is still an attachment, this relationship, so it has to be let go later on. This over-idealization of the guru, so widespread in India and so much copied now by Western seekers, could indicate an elementary stage. We may extend great reverence to the person who is worthy of it--saint or sage--but we may bend the knee in worship only to the everlasting Spirit. No human being has the right to receive it, much less to demand it, and it is idolatry to give it. He is a human being, after all, a person not a demigod. Worship of the man is not only irrelevant but also, in a sense, irreverent. We may admire him for his fine qualities but that does not mean we have to agree with him in all his views. Many Orientals suffer from the bad consequences of an exaggerated respect for their spiritual guides whereas the Europeans and Americans suffer from the consequences of an insufficient respect for them. A superficial emotional approach to truth is less concerned with the message than with the messenger, with the ideas taught than with their human origin. "So many teachers come to us with their doctrines. Who of them is right and who is wrong?" Gautama was asked. "Not because you think, `Our teacher is one to whom great deference is due,' should you accept a doctrine," was the answer. It is not necessary for disciples to indulge in fulsome panegyrics about their master. This helps no one, for it raises extravagant hopes in their hearers; it lowers their own capacity to receive truth; and it embarrasses the master himself. They need to learn that his greatness can be far more sincerely appreciated by restrained description, that the grandeur of his inner being is better pictured, and more readily believed, by dignified statement of the truth as it is. If others can be impressed only by fanciful embellishment or foolish exaggeration, they are not ready for him and should seek elsewhere among the cults which cater to the naïve. In their overpraise of the guru, the disciples prevent the careful inquirer from learning the truth. In their refusal to see the plain facts of the guru's human weakness or imperfection because they are committed by their theory to see him only as God, they alienate such an inquirer and strengthen his involuntary feeling that to become anyone's disciple is to abandon that very search for truth which is supposed to be the motive for doing so. All this exaggerated praise tends to put off cooler and clearer minds, so that what is deservedly laudable tends to get minimized. Why do they arbitrarily try to make the illuminate into a perfect and superhuman creature and not let him remain the human being that he really is? Why do they remain quite unseeing to his shortcomings and find glib excuses for his failings? Is there not enough genius or greatness still left in him to be quite worthy of our deepest admiration? Why not give him his due without this unnecessary act of deification, which merely drags the sublime down to the absurd? It is because they inhabit a plane where emotion runs high and fanaticism runs deep, where discrimination is absent and imagination all too present. It is because they have not attained the attitudes of, nor felt the need for, philosophy. The practice is all too common in the Orient of presenting a guru to the literary public in a most fulsome and adulatory manner. Those followers who write as if their spiritual guide is a faultless person, never blundering in any way and ever angelic in all ways, do their guide a disservice. They deprive him of his humanity and others of the hope of attaining his condition. His reliability and competence, his trustworthiness and holiness, as a guide, are not diminished if his limitations and faults as a human being are acknowledged. Their followers put these men forward as being flawless demigods, not knowing that by doing so they render a disservice to the men themselves as much as to the cause of truth. What is worse, they throw confusion into the path of all aspirants, who form wrong ideas as to what lies ahead of them and what they ought to do or be. The traditional attitude of an Oriental towards a guru attains fantastic degrees of utter materialism. We have observed disciples drinking water in which the guru's feet were washed, and kissing the tail of the horse on which he rode. They are in part the result of the poor teaching they have received. They mistake servitude to a guru for service to mankind. I distrust the legends which are told about most gurus by the disciples. They all exaggerate. Why? Because they have stopped seeking truth. When a man turns belief in the superior knowledge of the guide into belief in the virtual omniscience of the guide, it is dangerous. After having charted all the merits and capacities of the enlightened man, his devotees and disciples easily fall into exaggerations and forget his limitations, or ignore the simple fact that he remains a man among men. The disciples exaggerate the master. They create a new deity. If later some among them inevitably discover that he has his minor faults and makes his little mistakes, there is almost an emotional collapse, a nervous shock. Why, with all his wonderful attainments, can they not accept him as a human being? It is inevitable that they will demand continuing individual attention and it is just as inevitable that he will be unable to give it. Disappointment will ensue and negative thoughts will start breeding. They associate him with omnipotence, if not omniscience, but when time shows up the extravagance and the exaggeration of their idealized expectations, their faith falls to the ground, deflated. Nearly every professional who helps people intimately or mentally has to undergo certain tests or temptations or ordeals. When he deals with a neurotic patient of the opposite sex, the psychoanalyst, the physician, or the schoolteacher may pass through the same experience as the spiritual guide. If she is too emotionally affectionate or too physically sensual, or if she is starved of affection or sensuality, she may naturally fall in love with him for a time. I say "for a time" advisedly because the succeeding phase--equally known to the spiritual guide--is to become antagonistic to him. Psychology has identified this first phase and calls it "transference." The same disciple whose exaggerated enthusiasm caused him to regard the master as an archangel, now, by a curious process of transformation, regards him as an archdevil! The guide is up against the fact that most aspirants expect too much from him. Even if he warns them at the start, his words are given little weight or else are soon forgotten. They expect him to use some trick, whose secret he alone knows, to turn them quickly into illumined mystics or even powerful adepts. Consequently they react emotionally against him in their later disappointment. When the discrepancy between the real man and the preconceived mental image of him becomes too obvious and too large, they blame him instead of themselves. It is because followers place him in such a unique and exalted position in their hearts that they do real psychic injury to themselves when they believe it necessary to throw him down from it. The first and last illusion to go is that any perfect men exist anywhere. Not only is there no absolute perfection to be found, but not even does a moderate perfection exist among the most spiritual of human beings. Hence, the atmosphere of personal idolatry is not a healthy one. It is right that the impact of an unusually outstanding personality should produce an unforgettable intellectual or emotional experience. But it is wrong to believe him a god rather than a man, or to lead others to believe it, for that is an excess which can only lead to the reaction of disappointment in the end, as sooner or later he will be reduced by further knowledge to human proportions. To ask that a spiritual master or a loved mate shall be perfect in every respect is to ask the impossible and the non-existent. In the case of a seeker, it is likely to result in missing the very opportunity he is seeking. In the case of one who is already associated with a master or mate, experimental straying away is likely to result in disappointment and a retracing of steps. Let us not turn them into what they are not. They are human, they make mistakes; they are not gods. This desire to deify their teachers, which is so common among Indian disciples, can have no place among philosophic ones. We look upon the teacher as a man, as one who incites us to seek the best and inspires us to self-improvement and guides us to the truth. But he is still a man to be respected, not a god to be worshipped. He has his imperfections. How honest was that reputedly wise man Socrates in saying what so few gurus have ever said. He had just answered Xenophon's request for advice on a certain matter and concluded: "But my opinion is only that of a man." It is not my business to make known matters that would only stir controversy about past history quite uselessly. But it would be a serious omission of duty not to utter a warning that human perfection does not exist; that famous figures in history, politics, warfare, government, literature, religion, mysticism, and art have committed grave errors of judgement, impression, or teaching; that these errors are known only to a few in each case, and will probably never be known to posterity at all. A man may be successful in leading his people through a war to final victory but, on the way, he may have made blunders that were heavily paid for by others. A teacher may be spiritually enlightened but personally inexperienced; his opinions on unfamiliar matters may not have much value. Where is such a master, such a faultless paragon of virtue wisdom strength and pity, to be found? Look where we will, every man falls short of the ideal, shows an imperfection or betrays a weakness. The ideal sage portrayed in philosophical (as distinct from mystical) books, has not come to life in our times however much he may have done so in ancient times. The Master had his shortcomings or frailties just as we all have, but he also had what few of us have--a direct contact with the Overself. Where is the man who is wise enough to give everyone else spiritual guidance, personal advice, marital counsel, and prediction of future? Who with a single look knows all about you as he already knows all about God and the universe? Let us not look for fantasies of wishful thinking but see humans as humans. Let him not expect to find perfection in any mortal. Let him be satisfied to find someone who has so developed his spirituality that he is worthy to lead those who are still much in the rear. There is no man without his defects: it is a dreamer's notion that the perfect human being exists on our planet. Hence the disciples who servilely copy their guru in all things may copy his defects too! So long as a man is turned into a god and is worshipped as such, so long as he is regarded Perfect and without defects, so long are those concerned--both the man and his followers--kept outside the philosophic goal by their own deficiencies. Behind the majestic phrases of most of these spiritual teachers, we usually find in the end of a searching investigation based on living with them or on the historic facts of their lives, that there stand poor frail mortals. Hence those few who emerge as being one with, and not inferior to, their teachings stand out all the more as truly great men. It is misleading to put such a man forward, as so many Indians put him forward, as being faultless. His consciousness of the Overself may be perfect, but his conduct as a human being may be not. Is there anywhere a faultless man? He may be wise but he may not be wise all the time. For history shows lapses of judgement, impulsive actions, and other regrettable happenings due to karmic pressures even where least expected. There are many ways to undermine the student-guru relationship: if the guru is put upon an unreachable pedestal, if he is turned into a god and his humanness is denied, or if the guru is believed to be perfection itself. The possibility for perfection in any man is a debatable point. There are no Buddhas in our age, only would-be Buddhas. Let us face the fact, acknowledging man's limitations, and cease bluffing ourselves or permitting ourselves to be bluffed by the self-styled Masters. Too many seekers create a supernatural halo around the master's personality. Too many wrap it in dramatic and romantic garb. Too many expect too much from the first meeting with him. The consequence of all this is often a tremendous emotional let-down, an unreasonable disappointment after the reality of an actual meeting, and they lose their balance altogether. It is inevitable that a close-up view of the master will not prove so striking as a long-range one seen through romantic glasses. From a distance it is easy to bestow admiration and feel awe for a man they have almost turned into a deity. But drawn into close contact with him it is just as easy to swing in the opposite direction and turn the master into a man. They do not notice how brief is their firsthand acquaintance with him, how few are the appearances that constitute the data for their conclusions, how conceited it is for spiritual pygmies to think they understand a spiritual titan. Because what they appear to have found does not correspond with the mental image they have previously conceived of him, he is judged to be no master at all. Nor are these the only reasons for such a failure. Equally important is the fact that such a meeting, or the period immediately following it, becomes the signal for opposition by adverse force. Evil spirits may find their opportunity just then to lead him astray, mischievous ones may try to bewilder his mind, or lying ones may give untrue suggestions to him. His own weaknesses of character and faultiness of judgement may become greatly magnified and foist an absurdly wrong estimate of the master upon him. He may even feel personal antagonism toward the master. All this is of course a test for him. If he thinks he is judging whether this man is fit to be his master, life in its turn is judging whether he is fit to have such as master. Here then are some of the answers to the question "Why, if we concede that the adepts have a right to hide from the multitude, do they also seem to hide from the earnest seeking few?" The adepts are confident that those individuals who are really ready for them will meet them when the right time comes. They know that this will happen not only under the direct working of karma, not only under the impulsions of the seeker's own higher self, but also under the wise laws which govern the quest itself. These are high and hard truths. But they are the realities of life, not dreams for those who like to be self-deluded. Whoever rejects them for such a reason does so at the risk of being harshly shocked into awakening one day. They approach such a man with a kind of awe, if not of reverence. It may or may not be justifiable: that depends first, on the man's quality and second, on his mood. It needs clear eyes to see the truth about these spiritual teachers, eyes such as both their ardent followers and intolerant critics do not possess. Most people are simply not competent to select a guru properly; they are too governed by outer appearances, physical impressions, and emotional reactions. The search for an ideal master may obstruct itself through an excessively critical attitude equally as through a sentimentally romantic one. For however divinely inspired he may be in his best moments, the master must still remain quite human in many ways most of the time. Those who form romantic grandiose exotic or miraculous pictures of what a master is like and of what they seek in a man before they can accept him as a master, doom themselves to frustration and assure themselves of disappointment. For they do not yet understand what masterhood really is, hence they are still unfit for personal instruction by a master. If he is not connected with any religious association or mystical tradition, any institution or monastery, he is looked upon askance. For who or what is there to validate the "correctness" of his teaching and the credentials of the man himself? They look for a doctrine that is "official" and a revelator certified by "authority." The man who seeks a master to whose cosmological vision, expressed thought, and behaviour he hopes to give perfect acceptance, seeks the impossible. He does not want a teaching which is liable to disproof by scientific knowledge, yet he does not want to limit himself merely to that knowledge. He may seem cold and unapproachable by the sentimental standards of those who mistakenly regard him as a glorified clergyman. If his preconception of a master is wrong, as is likely because of the ludicrous caricature in the pictures drawn by popular cults and books, he may not be able to recognize a real master even when he meets one. There will be an inner struggle instead. He will suffer the agony of mental or moral indecision. He sees an image which he has himself created, not the reality of the other man. Only by close association with him under one roof will it be possible to find out how different the image is from the person it is supposed to represent. The first is a perfect but impossible creature. The second is a human creature. It is understandable and even pardonable that the weak, the neurotic, the unhappy or the undeveloped, the innocent or the inexperienced should look for a father image who will carry all their burdens, material as well as spiritual. They are entitled to do so. But they should seek him within religious or mystical circles, not within the philosophic circle. The mistake so many seekers make in approaching such a man is to demand that he teach them on their terms, in their way, and not his own. If he has not got the appearance they think he ought to have or they expect him to have, that is another cause for offense. The reality is blamed--and not themselves--for disappointing the fantasy. You do not see the master when you see his body. You do not know him when you know what he looks like. You do not love him if you are attracted only by his handsome appearance. The real master is his mind. A man's spiritual status does not reveal itself immediately to anyone who looks at his physical body. Not only so, but if the latter is ugly, deformed, and senile, repulsion may misread his inner nature completely. Those who reject truth because of the external repulsiveness of the truth-bearer, do so for the right reasons, that is, they are not ready to receive it. Those who accept truth because of the external attractiveness of the truth bearer, do so for the wrong reasons, that is, they have not received it at all. For in both cases it is not the mind or the heart to which appeal has been made, but the senses. It is not reason or intuition, sufficient experience or sufficient authority which has judged the testimony for truth, but bodily sight hearing and touch. The personal traits of the spiritual guide may repel the seeker. Yet if no one else is available who has the same knowledge, it is the seeker's duty to repress his repulsions and enter into the relationship of a pupil. If he does not, then he pays a heavy price for his surrender to personal emotion and sensual superficiality. A master would not necessarily be recognized as such if he were walking in the street, not even by those who are looking for one and have read all the books about him. That a man wearing quite ordinary clothes whose face was clean shaven, whose hair was of quite average length, could be an adept is much less likely to be thought by most persons, than one who was theatrical-looking and conspicuously dressed. In the worldly life a successful man usually seeks to give others the impression of his success but in the spiritual life an unassuming man may be a great master. The aspirant is not ordinarily in a position to judge what illumination really is, and who is a fully illuminated man. He can only form theories about the one and use his imagination about the other. Many will speculate on the teacher's motives. That they could be pure and selfless, seeking only to bring men closer to awareness of the Overself and to knowledge of the higher laws, only a few will perceive. To the others he will be a man like themselves, actuated by selfish motives. Those who reject a noble message and sneer at its messenger, who pronounce him to be a false prophet, a deceiver of men, thereby pronounce their own selves to be falsely led and self-deceived. To many blasé and worldly people, the teacher will be classed with ambitious charlatans at worst or regarded as self-hypnotized at best. But even to those who do not question his sincerity, the goal he points to them mus