If thy soul smiles while bathing in the Sunlight of thy Life; if thy soul sings within her chrysalis of flesh and matter; if thy soul weeps inside her castle of illusion; if thy soul struggles to break the silver thread that binds her to the MASTER (4); know, O Disciple, thy Soul is of the earth.

When to the World's turmoil thy budding soul lends ear; when to the roaring voice of the great illusion thy Soul responds when frightened at the sight of the hot tears of pain, when deafened by the cries of distress, thy soul withdraws like the shy turtle within the carapace of SELFHOOD, learn, O Disciple, of her Silent "God," thy Soul is an unworthy shrine.

When waxing stronger, thy Soul glides forth from her secure retreat: and breaking loose from the protecting shrine, extends her silver thread and rushes onward; when beholding her image on the waves of Space she whispers, "This is I," -- declare, O Disciple, that thy soul is caught in the webs of delusion.

This Earth, Disciple, is the Hall of Sorrow, wherein are set along the Path of dire probations, traps to ensnare thy EGO by the delusion called "Great Heresy".

This earth, O ignorant Disciple, is but the dismal entrance leading to the twilight that precedes the valley of true light -- that light which no wind can extinguish, that light which burns without a wick or fuel.

Saith the Great Law: -- "In order to become the KNOWER of ALL SELF thou hast first of SELF to be the knower." To reach the knowledge of that SELF, thou hast to give up Self to Non-Self, Being to Non-Being, and then thou canst repose between the wings of the GREAT BIRD. Aye, sweet is rest between the wings of that which is not born, nor dies, but is the AUM throughout eternal ages.

Bestride the Bird of Life, if thou would'st know.

Give up thy life, if thou would'st live.

-The Voice of the Silence [1], by H.P. Blavatsky