Wheat is not a product of the Earth for it has never been found in the wild state. It was the first-born Lords of Wisdom, Regents over the seasons and cosmic cycles, who revealed to nascent mankind the arts of agriculture. Fruits and grain, unknown to Earth, were brought by divine men and women from other worlds, for the benefit of those they ruled. The humble wheat is pivotal to man’s Inner Principles and the Laws that govern the World of Being. Isis, the Virgin-Mother of Horus, was the first to reveal to mortals the mysteries of wheat and corn. And her priests placed the sacred wheat on the breast of their ven-erable defunct. The Wheat Fields of Egypt are the Elysian Fields of Greece and the Homeric Tartarus. Extra-terrestrial wheat is the link between the occult philosophy of the old Egyp-tians, and that now taught by the cis-Himalayan Adepts. Aaru is the subjective state of post-mortem existence, where the defunct’s soul receives wheat and corn, growing therein seven cubits high. What is meant by the three cubits of the ear and the four cubits of the stalk of the wheat that grows in the Fields of Aaru? The ear of three cubits is the immortal upper triad of man and aroma of Manas (Higher Ego), represented by the triangle. The four cubits is the mortal lower tetrad (stalk or straw), represented by the square. In Egyptian philosophy the Eyes of the Lord are interchangeable: the Sun is the eye of Osiris by day; and the Moon, the eye of Osiris by night. The Wheat Fields of Aaru are an allusion to Devachan. The wheat sown and reaped by the defunct during his life is his Karma.

Anger is one of three self-destructing states of mind; the other two are worldly love and delusion. Bhagavan Das posits Anger in the mid-point of the not-Self continuum: Hate towards Equals gives rise to Anger; towards Superiors, to Fear; towards Inferiors, to Scorn. Anger is the passion of fools; it becometh not a wise man. Socrates defines Anger as raging and seething of the soul. Aristotle, as boiling of the blood around the heart. Plato suggests that though pain, fear, anger, and other feelings are given to men by necessity, “if they conquered these they would live righteously, and if they were conquered by them, unrighteously.” In order to help men, the Gods protected the heart by surrounding it with the soft and cool thicket of lungs to chill out the heat of anger. “Dig not fire with a sword but by governing the tongue and being quiet, friendship is produced from strife, the fire of anger being extinguished, and you yourself will not appear to be destitute of intellect,” advises Pythagoras. If Love is the fever of the species, Anger is the self-consuming fire. Indeed it is life atoms that a man in a blind passion throws off, unconsciously, and he does it quite as effectively as a mesmeriser who transfers them from himself to any object consciously and under the guidance of his will. Anger is an insurmountable obstacle between reality and illusion. That is why abstinence from Anger is one of Duty’s ten virtues. “Act then, all ye who fail and suffer, act like him; and from the stronghold of your Soul, chase all your foes away — ambition, anger, hatred, e’en to the shadow of desire — when even you have failed” says the Voice of the Silence. To take the Kingdom of God by violence is Kabbalistic parlance for reaching Nirvana by artificially-induced conditions. To Dare, to Will, to Achieve, and to keep Silent, is the motto of the true Occultist. “The science of the gods is mastered by violence; it must be conquered, and does not give itself.” One key is the sacrifice of Prometheus who, by allowing men to proceed consciously on the path of spiritual evolution, transformed the most perfect of animals on earth into a potential god, making him free to “take the kingdom of heaven by violence.” We cannot attain Adeptship and Nirvana, Bliss and the “Kingdom of Heaven,” unless we link ourselves indissolubly with our Rex Lucis, the Lord of Splendour and of Light, our immortal God within us.

A satire on the boasted wisdom, fortitude, magnanimity, and temperance of man, in the form of a dialogue between Ulysses in the island of Circe, and Gryllus, whom she had changed into a swine, and who now prefers his swinish condition to a return to the human form; Ulysses asks Circe for permission to restore his companions to the human shape. Circe will grant the request if the men themselves desire it. Gryllus, one of them, is brought forward to answer in behalf of the entire company. He refuses, and gives his reasons. He says that by making him and his companions beasts, Circe has done them a great favour. Beasts have more fortitude than men; they fight in fair, open combat, without trick or artifice; they are no cowards, they never cry for mercy. Beasts are courageous and daring, even the females; while the courage of men is artificial, and women are timid. Beasts are more temperate and chaste then man; they indulge their appetites only in a natural way, and at the proper season. Beasts do not value silver or gold. They have no adventitious desire. Their senses are more accurate. Beasts are satisfied with one kind of food, and this procured without difficulty; they have nature for their teacher, and could teach men many useful lessons. Men are incontinent: they indulge unnatural and excessive appetites; and are never satisfied.

On the true individuality or the spiritual monad, a thread around which the efflorescence of a long series of transient personalities are strung together like pearls.

"When the truly worthy man is placed in difficult circumstances, yet not of such a magnitude as to prevent him from energizing intellectually, in this case it is not lawful for him to commit suicide; for the affliction is from Divinity, and is analogous to the castigation of a son by his father. For, according to the Platonic philosophy, everything afflictive in life either exercises, or corrects, or punishes. And the most worthy men sometimes require for the health of their souls, severe endurance, in the same manner as the most athletic require great exercise for the health of their bodies." — Thomas Taylor

The head is the most divine part of the body and ruler of all other parts. The gods endowed the front of the head with organs informing the forethought of the soul. First they constructed light-bearing eyes so that the pure fire within us, which is akin to that of day, flows through the eyes in a smooth and dense stream — from within without. In daylight, a fire-stream issuing from the eye meets a fire-stream coming from the object of vision, i.e., it flows out like unto like and, coalescing therewith, it forms one kindred substance along the path of the eyes’ vision. And this substance, having all become similar in its properties because of its similar nature, distributes the motions of every object it touches, or is touched, throughout the body and informs the soul thus bringing about that sensation which we now term “seeing.” The soul when looking outwardly see the shadows and images of other souls. But when she looks inwardly, she evolves her own essence and the reasons which she contains. At first, she sees herself. When she penetrates deeper into the knowledge of herself, she finds within herself both intellect, and the orders of beings. When she proceeds even deeper, she perceives with eyes closed the celestial hierarchies and the essential unity of being. Love is its own act and harvests the spectacle of celestial beauty. Love is the eye of the desirer. By its power, the lover can see the beloved. Sight sees out of time, in an instant. The other senses function in time. My eye and God’s eye is one eye, one sight, one knowledge, one love. If the soul shall see with the right eye into eternity, then the left eye must be as though it were dead. Brahma moves about, becoming manifold within the heart, where the arteries meet, like the spokes fastened in the nave of a chariot wheel. Iris is the chariot wheel. The aperture of the eye is the axle hole.