An Introduction to the Study of

ANALYTICAL PSYCHOLOGY

By LAURENCE J. BENDIT, M.D., D.P.M.

and PHOEBE D. BENDIT

May, 1947

Published by
THE THEOSOPHICAL RESEARCH CENTRE
50 Gloucester Place
London, W.1.

--

What follows is merely intended as an introductory essay for the student who wants
to compare what theosophy has to say with contemporary psychological views. It is
in no way intended to short-circuit the reading of books by those whose work is
discussed but simply to suggest a line of comparative thought which may serve as a
groundwork for serious study. And since we are concerned only with the bare
groundwork, everything has been simplified, and perhaps over-simplified, down to
what seems to the writer to be essentials. The reader of these pages will not find
that he has learned anything but the A.B.C. of the subject-if that: it would
require a full-size book to do it justice.

Modern psychology, however, has a great deal to teach the student of theosophy and
the occult tradition. For the latter is, or should be, the traditional basis of
knowledge about the human being, revealed by wise Seers who knew. Psychology, on
the other hand, is founded on the scientific work of the last century, and, as
such, it is the antithesis of the occult tradition. Yet things are now reaching
the point where the two meet. It is perhaps invidious to suggest that the true
occultist can learn a lot from the psychologist, although the reverse is certainly
true. Nevertheless, the student of the occult can find, not only a correction
against error, but also an explanation in plain language of some of the symbolic
and veiled writings which come to us from the remote past, and, as such, it is
worth serious study.

Psychology as a science started about the middle of the 19th century. Its origins
were in laboratory experiments on memory, the working of the senses and so on.
Parallel with this was the study of morbid psychology among lunatics, neurotics,
etc. Charcot, Janet, Lombroso, Richet, are outstanding names among workers at that
time. William James is another of the pioneers of psychology, his most famous book
being "Varieties of Religious Experience." Another parallel stream was that of
psychical research, where such names as Myer, Gurney, Podmore, Rayleigh and
Crookes, stand out. Flugel's "A Hundred Years of Psychology" is a very good
historical survey.

There is also a department of psychology concerned with the measurement of

intelligence. It deals with general capacities and special abilities by means of
elaborate and useful tests. We need not concern ourselves with it here. But an
interesting point emerges; that there is no difference in the average intelligence
of boys and girls, but there are both more geniuses and more idiots among boys.
Thus in the mental sphere as in the biological, the male shews a greater tendency
to variation from the normal and average.

Yet another aspect of the approach to the study of the human being is that of
Theosophy, where H. P. Blavatsky brought to the modern West the ancient
traditional teachings about him, both from the East and the Past.

Thus we have a series of schools of thought about man and his mind, taking him
from various angles. But though in some cases almost diametrically opposed, they
are actually converging streams, which can become merged and synthcsised into one.
There is no real contradiction between the Theosophical approach, and that of
others, provided we recognise that science limits itself to what it can prove,
yet, if it is truly science, does not deny a thing because it has not been able to
prove it as yet.

Freud, about 1910, was the first person who began to make psychology into a living
and essentially human subject. He took it out of the laboratory and applied it to
daily life, while he showed an approach to the sicknesses of the mind which was
not couched in terms of nerve cells and fibres, or of chemical changes. He brought
into prominence the theory of the unconscious, previously foreshadowed, by Janet
and others. But Freud it was who first saw in the unconscious a motivating factor
of great power in everyday life. This was probably his most important
contribution, in that it revolutionised one's ideas of behaviour. Hitherto, we had
considered that our behaviour and our views on life and its problems were
logically and rationally worked out. Freud showed us that, far from this, our
logical reasons for becoming Catholic or Protestant, Conservative or Communist,
and 80 on, are usually attempts to explain and rationalize views growing out of
the unconscious emotional bias. Life, he tells us, is governed not by reason, but
by desire; by the impersonal amoral force of instinct, the libido, arising from
the Id, or "It," and seeking only one thing, pleasure or satisfaction. But, to
achieve this pleasure, it has to express itself in some form acceptable to the
conscious mind or Ego. This Ego is the part of oneself which needs to feel itself
accepted in its environment, and it is therefore pulled between the morality of
society, which it accepts as what Freud calls the Super-Ego (i.e., conscience,
morality, imposed from outside, not a sense of rightness evolved from within). The
Ego thus finds itself, only too often, torn between the demands of the amoral,
pleasure-seeking Id and the highly respectable Super-Ego. The result is conflict,
which is the cause of neurosi8, and any form of mental breakdown and disease. Man,
according to Freud's view is thus a purely selfish, anti-social pleasure-seeking
creature, who accepts social codes and morality simply as a means to an end: that
of self-gratification. If he cannot gratify his instincts with impunity in their
strict primitive form he suppresses and represses them, not from any real sense of
right and wrong, but as a lesser evil than the pain ,inflicted on him by his
fellows for transgressing certain taboos.

This, very briefly, is the basis of Freudian doctrine, and on it modern psychology
is built up. Of secondary, though of very great importance, is the stress laid by
Freud on the irrational, the accidental, the fantastic. A slip of the tongue or
pen is an expression of an unconscious situation, a dream or a daydream, shows,
usually in symbolic terms, an emotional conflict seeking resolution in wishful
thinking. Further study of this is best made in Freud's own books, and notably in
"The Psychopathology of Everyday Life."

Freud, however, considers only the instinctive, primitive, animal aspects of the
unconscious. He reduces every human activity to desire, and to desire for physical
satisfaction -- i.e., to the level at which the greatest and fullest experience is
in sex. Consequently, he sees the source of all human unhappiness in conflict over
sex. But sex, for him, includes every activity from sucking at the breast and
excretion, up to the actual straightforward sexual act between man and woman.
Pleasure, to him, thus means something which, in some way, links up with
satisfaction of the sexual urge.

As a result of this, his school, that of _Psycho-Analysis_, has tended to

crystallise a materialistic dogma, in many ways comparable to the dogma of the
Roman Church, where those who do not agree are heretics. The technical term used
for these is 'unanalysed.' Consequently all art, religion, and any transcendental
experience has to be made to fit into the psychoanalytical framework, with the
result that one sometimes hears the disciples of Freud performing the most amazing
mental acrobatics in order to make things fit in with their scheme. This appears
to satisfy them. But others, the unconverted or 'unanalysed,' are apt to think
that the Freudians are falling into the very trap against which Freud himself
warned others, which is that of creating a fantastic rationalisation of things in
order to satisfy their unconscious wishes.

The first serious breakaway from Freud was that of Alfred Adler. While Freud
emphasised the sexual aspect of things Adler felt that what mattered was not so
much this, as the adjustment of the individual to his environment, in general
terms. To be happy, a man must feel adequate. If he is inferior, or feels
inferior, he seeks to compensate in other ways. The child who is a cripple makes
up for his lack of physical attainments by being a scholar; the youngest of a
family, unable to compete with his elder brothers and sisters by strength, gets
his place by charm, and so on. In other words, where weakness is felt, the attempt
is made to restore the balance by seeking power in some other way. Adler's
emphasis is thus on the needs of the conscious mind -- the Freudian Ego -- though
the means used to obtain conscious satisfaction are usually quite unconscious.
Adler carries us a step beyond Freud in terms of mental levels, although he
perhaps ignores the physical-sexual too much, and simplifies his psychology
unduly. But he has the virtue that he recognises the individuality as important,
whereas the Freudian tends to see man as based on a common and universal pattern,
all variations on this being superimposed accretions. Whence, Adler's school is
called that of Individual Psychology.

The second breakaway from Freud was that of C. G. Jung. And this, from our point
of view, is by far the most important, in that, as Jung tells us, Analytical
Psychology (the term he uses for the approach of which he is the originator),
though it may start in the consulting room, transcends itself and, properly
understood, leads straight on to the road of self-realisation. In fact, it becomes
a way of life, a form of Yoga by self-awareness and a progressive bringing of
oneself into line with the laws of spiritual growth.

In other words, while Freud deals with the body, the animal, the sub-human, the
"natural" man, Adler brings the mind of man, with its sense of I-ness, or ahamkara
into the foreground, while Jung sees the Spirit and its demands as the most
important factor in life. Freud deals with the past impinging on the present,
Adler with the present itself; but Jung is concerned with the impact of the
future, the unmanifest, spiritual goal, upon this present.

To Freud, dreams and other products of the unconscious refer to the past, to
incidents and repressions in early childhood. To Jung, they associate not only
with these, and with present difficulties, but they also foreshadow the needs of
the future, showing a present situation and, in cryptic form, a key to the way of
resolving that situation in a manner which is going to lead nearer to the
spiritual goal of the one concerned.

Jung also postulates that the human mind is only partly the property of the
individual: behind the personal field there lies the collective mind, the common
mentality, of a hierarchy of groups-family, tribe, clan, nation, race, and
ultimately of humanity as a whole, and perhaps of something even greater than
this. The student of theosophy will link this idea with that of the mental world,
and especially that of Higher Manas or the Causal level. But this is only
contacted when the man is properly and truly individualised. The collective also
comprises the pre-individual levels, where the individual man is still largely
embedded in the instinctive mass of primitive mentality. Thus, images, dreams,
"messages" from the collective, are felt by the savage to belong not to himself
alone, but to the tribe as a whole, so that if he has a "big" dream, it is
discussed in the assembly of those he lives with. As this stage is passed, however
(though this is not, I believe, stated by Jung) there is a tendency for the
collective to recede and to show itself less in consciousness. At a later stage
still, it returns once more. This time, however, the impact of it on the
individual, say, in dreams, has a per801lal meaning, but one of great and
transcendental importance to the one who receives it. The symbols are the same,
the language used is the same, but the meaning of the dream is for the individual
rather than for the community, and has to be seen as such. Only so can the
individual become integrated, i.e., whole and complete having regard both to who
he is and where he is going. That is, in theosophical terms, fulfill his _dharma_.

Jung, through many years of work, realised that his patients, when they reached a
certain stage of analysis, touched levels in their minds where the expression of
what was taking place was in symbolic language very much akin to what one finds in
myths, fairy-tales and other ancient products of folk-lore. Moreover, when he
contacted the sinologist Wilhelm, who had translated a Chinese religious classic,
"The Secret of the Golden Flower," Jung saw at once that here was evidence that
the deeper levels of the unconscious mind contained the same symbols and
expressions as the traditional scriptures, not only of a particular religion, but
of the universal foundation of Religion. Thus a whole new world of psychological
study was opened up, from which he learned a vast amount about the forces at work
within the human soul. His writings are full of matter about the legends and
symbols of the mysteries of East and West, of alchemy and the Cabbala, of Chinese,
Tibetan and Indian philosophy. He himself once announced that "We Europeans are on
a peninsular of Asia, and in that continent there are old civilizations where
people have trained their minds in introspective psychology for thousands of
years, whereas we began with our psychology, not even yesterday, but this
morning." From this point he went on to relate various levels of consciousness
with certain symbolic images, and moreover with nerve plexuses corresponding to
the chakras.

Thus he goes a very long way towards what we speak of as theosophy. In his books,
however, there are a number of passages condemning those who take up the study of
theosophy on the grounds that they are evading, rather than fulfilling, their
dharma as Western beings, and are therefore failing to integrate themselves. To
him, theosophy is a disease, or a symptom of disease. These passages are worthy of
serious consideration, because what he says is perfectly true. It is essential
that if one wants to study transcendental philosophy, one should not fall into a
trap and allow oneself to be led astray into a morass of delusion and pseudo-
occultism. This is not by any means a rare thing. In fact, it is distressingly
common, and it leads many into culs-de-sac, or into serious difficulties of
physical and mental health. In this, as in his general philosophy, Jung says to
the head what Krishnamurti says to the heart: "Get rid of illusion, acquire
understanding be self-aware and allow Life to flow through you." It is far more
important, whether you be a practising psychologist, or in any other walk of life,
that you should be something worth while than that you should do a great deal.

But while what Jung says on these matters is true, it represents only half of the
picture. Jung does not seem to see psychism as anything but a primitive function,
while his condemnation of Theosophy and occultism suggests that he under-values
their positive aspects. He does not, at least in his published works, seem to
bring forward the reality of the Mystery tradition, in the occult as distinct from
the subjective psychological sense, and emphasises only the all-too common
meretriciousness of its would-be exponents. Nevertheless, Jung stands up among his
contemporaries as a giant among dwarfs, and his books and lectures are worthy of
deep and serious study. His scheme of things is too wide and complex to be dealt
with here. But his recognition of man as a spiritual being, with a goal of
fulfillment and illumination essentially unique and individual for each, to be
reached only by study, discipline and hard work, puts him high in the ranks of the
mystical philosophers of our time.

There are other psychologists of lesser renown who have ideas much are
interesting. But in these notes only two more need to be mentioned. One is
Groddeck, a somewhat heretical Freudian (he describes himself as "a wild analyst")
who brings out the interesting theory that physical illness is always purposive.
It serves the ends of the unconscious, helping it to evade unpleasant situations
(the lady who could faint conveniently is an obvious example), to punish oneself
if one feels guilty, and otherwise satisfies one's self-respect as a decent member
of society-that is, the Freudian Ego and Super-Ego. He points out that we
intuitively know this, as we say, "X has caught cold," or "Y has stepped on a
banana-skin and broken his leg": we do not say that "X has had a cold thrust upon
him," or "Y had his leg broken" he need not have caught cold or stepped in the
wrong place, but he did it to satisfy some unconscious and primitive need. This
may seem far-fetched, and indeed much illness cannot be easily explained in these.
terms. But the same idea is implied in Jung's suggestion that all symptoms, mental
or physical, are attempts to restore a balance, to compensate something. Moreover,
if pain represents the working out of "negative" karma -- i.e., punishment for
past misdeeds -- then accident or illness is a thing for which nobody but oneself
is ultimately responsible.

Indeed, one is often, in practice, faced with people in whom the situation is
obvious. There are many Elizabeth Barretts, who can only gain enough limelight or
privacy or dominance by being invalids, and many others who literally enjoy ill-
health because it keeps them from facing real life. Groddeck's "The Unknown Self"
and "Book of the It" are provocative and well worth reading.

Another is Prinzhorn, who suggests that the patient under analysis really gets
well because the analyst loves him. This is a way of saying that mental rapport
and harmony are more important in psychotherapy than finding the proper
interpretation of things -- or rather, what the analyst believes to be the proper
interpretation. This contains at least a very large measure of truth, because if
it were not so, the various schools of psychology would not be able to claim
equally good (or bad) results, which is, in fact, the case.

Aveling also has a contribution of considerable interest, in his research into'

choice.' There is, it appears, three main types of' choice': emotional, when one
chooses between two objects the one which one likes best; mental when an object
(say half a crown) is more use than another (say a penny). Lastly is 'cold choice'
when one chooses not "because" of anything, but in a certain absolute manner. This
is probably as close to the action of Will or Atma, as we can reach in ordinary
ways.

It implies that the resolution of the conflict causing symptoms in a person

depends very much more upon the harmony between him and the analyst than upon any
absolute truth in the understanding of that conflict. A Freudian may relieve a
patient of a symptom in terms of sex and erotism, an Adlerian in terms of power
and adaptation. But the moment of healing in all cases seems to be when patient
and analyst are in some subtle way mentally and emotionally at one. Then something
like a chemical reaction takes place in the patient, the analyst's mind acting as
a catalytic agent, and the conflicting elements unite into a third and neutral
compound. This generalisation has more truth in it than may appear at first sight.
It opens up the whole question of exactly what is the healing process, especially
in psycho-therapy, and it must be admitted that very little is known about it,
though each school has its own theories. Actually it is probable that healing is a
process taking place entirely within the mind of the patient. But it cannot do so,
as a rule, without the help of an outside factor. The mind of the analyst acts as
the catalyst in chemistry or the fulcrum on which the lever of the will can be
used but which is not part of the lever itself -- the mirror in which one sees
ones face. Putting it very simply, what happens is the release of energies
hitherto held in check or prevented from expressing themselves in normal ways-
normality being what is right for the patient at his particular stage of
development. The brake on these energies is, naturally, some force acting in
opposition to them, and the release implies that conflicting elements in the
psyche or mind of the patient have now ceased to oppose and cancel one another,
and are henceforth working towards a common goal. In other words, two
disharmonious parts of the mind have united into a new and better whole: have
integrated, to the benefit of the patient-and his environment. The actual method
by which this is brought about is by analysis-literally, the setting free in
consciousness-of repressed material. In many cases this is enough to relieve a
localised symptom, such as fear of being in a room with doors closed, or of open
spaces, exaggerated anxiety about money, fear of traveling, or sexual impotence.
When the stage of catharsis is passed, many patients have had enough: they have
"got things off their chest " and have talked about themselves without being
criticised, they have shared their secret fears and guilt with another person. The
very fact of having what they had to say accepted, is a very great help to them,
and makes them feel that here is somebody who does not reject them, but gives them
impersonal support, without moralising or telling them exactly "where they get
off". The next step, which many need, is to understand what has happened: the
stage of explanation and discussion, in terms of psychic mechanisms. Then -- a
thing which is being gradually recognised even by the most passive psycho-analysts
-- there comes a phase where positive re-education is required to break old bad
habits, now outgrown. Finally -- and this is a stage which relatively few go on
to, those few who mean to some to real grips with life and with themselves --
there is a phase of transformation or rebirth, when the individual goes through a
major psychic crisis, an initiation from within, and starts out on a new phase of
the road towards fulfillments.

These four stages are as described by Jung. In practice, they often overlap and go
on together. But there is a great difference between the needs of different
people. And, to make another broad generalisation, one can see two main categories
in mankind, which William James, borrowing from the Brahmins, has termed the once-
born and the twice-born. The once-born are those who are aware of discomfort or
comfort, pleasure or pain, but who are not self-aware in the sense that they can
turn round and look at themselves. They may he self-centred, but they are not
introspective. They may be extremely intelligent and efficient workers in any
field, but they are not self-critical or aware of their own reactions to a
situation.

The others, the twice-horn, on the contrary, are those who are able to look at
themselves rather R.S they may look at any object outside themselves. They are, at
least incipiently, self-aware. As Jung puts it, they have objectivised their ego-
remembering that the Jungian "ego" is, like the Freudian, _ahamkara_, the egoism
of the personality. (The Ego of theosophical literature corresponds to J ling's
non-ego centre or self). In other words, the' twice-born is the one who has, as it
were two centres of "I-ness" : one in the personality, and another, perhaps
higher-mental, from which he can watch and observe the behaviour of the
personality. This suggests a more developed type than the first, and maybe, in
ultimate terms, this is so. But the twice-born may become so much interested in
watching himself, and be so dual in his reactions, that he drifts ineffectively
through life, fails to make relationships, and in a general way does not succeed
in adapting to his own environment, living as he does in a fantasy of his own
spiritual greatness; He may, on the other hand, use his self-awareness to carry
him to great depths of philosophy and understanding. The later and deeper stages
of analytical work appeal to this, rather than to the first type, and _if properly
used_, become a practical method of karma- or jnana-yoga.

At this point it is well to deal with the question which is often brought up, as
to whether analytical work is not a form of suggestion in which the patient is led
to all sorts of conclusions about things which exist only in the analyst's
imagination. There can be no denying the strong telepathic element which must
exist between patient and analyst. If in fact, the analyst has fixed views-as the
Freudians have, for instance-he more or less unconsciously sets a mental pattern
to which he wants the patient to conform. This pattern is valid in so far as it
has in it an element of truth, even though that truth may be twisted out of shape.
And when the patient gets to the point where, under subtle psychic pressure, he
accepts what the analyst tacitly suggests to him, an act of healing or release can
take place.

This then, suggests a highly dangerous practice. And indeed psychotherapy is at

least as dangerous as surgery. Like it, it is not a thing for the half-trained.
There is only one way of acquiring that training which is by being analysed
oneself. No amount of book-learning or second-hand experience can give it, and
though self-analysis can take one a long way, work with another competent person
is essential to carry the process far enough. There is, however, a saving grace in
psychotherapy which is that one cannot suggest to people anything which is totally
wrong and unacceptable to them. One cannot hypnotise a person and make him commit
an immoral act unless the immorality is already in the person -- i.e., the
tendency active or latent to perform that act. In the same way, no totally false
doctrine can be put over and accepted by the patient, with any beneficial effect
on his symptoms. For the symptoms are essentially an attempt by the Self to
correct, as well as to draw attention to, a distortion in the personality, and
relief can only come when, in some measure things become aligned with the will of
that self, Thus, superficial symptoms may be removed even where the analyst holds
views which represent only an incomplete, and hence twisted, vision of the truth.
But deeper and more basic troubles can only be dealt with where the analyst has
himself overcome the particular distortions which are the cause of the patient's
symptoms. He may, and being human, must, have other distortions himself and he
cannot help a patient to deal with those which are in himself, without causing
further difficulty for both.

In any case, the individual is ultimately safeguarded by the fact that he, and he
alone, is responsible for his own happiness. He, as spiritual Ego, has created his
Karma, for better or for worse, and brings into the orbit of his personal
experience the things which are his own, the opportunities or difficulties with
which he has to cope. This may be to some a new idea. Yet if one accepts, the
general principles of reincarnation and karma, it is pure logic. We each of us
create our present circumstances out of our own past; and according, to how we
handle the present, we create the future-bearing in mind always that the ultimate
goal for each of us is fixed from the beginning. For one may go from one place to
another by the shortest route,. or one can wander by devious ways or dally by the
roadside, but eventually one must reach journey's end. All that our freewill can
do is to let us take a longer or a shorter time on the voyage, and bring its
consummation nearer or put it further away in time. Our historical background is
thus part of ourselves, and is created by us. This culminates in the circumstances
in which we are boru, which are therefore also self-made. Thus the child is in a
sense the parent and creator of his own physical parents, the builder of the home
into which he is born.
If this is so, it is clearly a falsification of values for a psychological patient
to blame his early childhood or his parents failings for his present sufferings.
Yet it is a very important part of the technique of analysis to get the patient
to, say all that he wants to say about his early environment and relationships
without reserves or censorship. He thereby transfers outward his sense of guilt
about certain things such as sexuality and blames it on his mother or father for
not bringing him up sensibly; he sees his father's explosive temper or his
mother's anxious fussiness as the cause of his own fear of life. This method
undoubtedly works: when the patient has analysed out his childhood and brought to
light how he came to be developed into the stunted and distorted person he now is,
much of his trouble often vanishes, and at this point the average person stops
coming for treatment and goes back to work.

But the difference between the two kinds of people we have described as the once-
born and the twice-born emerges here. For the once-born, those on what has been
called " the path of outgoing," the practical point is all that is important; by
blaming their misfortunes on their early environment, they have got rid of their
symptoms. Nothing else matters. But there are the others, the twice-born, those
said to be on " the path of return," for whom a pragmatic philosophy is not
enough. They are uneasy because this stage of analysis gives only one angle of the
truth and expresses the reactions of a child, unjustly treated by mother or nurse.
It does not it, explain why the mother acted unjustly, and so appeared like an
ogre to the infant mind. But, further, it does not reach the basic truth of the
karmic law, which points out that the child could not have reaped injustice unless
itself had created the conditions which called it forth.

This introduces into analytical work the conception that the material looked at
is, in fact, symbolic rather than actual. And though it needs to be lived through
as if it were real, nevertheless the twice-born analysand must mentally preface
his analysis by the saving clause that." It is as if..."

In short, the fabric of our lives depends, not so much on the impact of fortuitous
external events upon us, as upon what we bring with them from the past to cope
with these events. We have to learn to accept that they are not fortuitous and
accidental, but part of a pattern which we ourse1ves have created at some time in
our evolution. Accident and coincidence are thus ruled out and everything which
happens is part of a plan, usually unseen and unknown but intuitively felt by the
wise to exist. The present, at any moment of time, is the point of impact upon the
future, and of the future, in terms of the fixed spiritual goal, upon the past.
And as we live now, so we alter the impact of past events upon us �- in that
sense, alter the past itself -- and we create the _then_, the future into which we
are constantly moving. Moreover, as we live _here_, in terms of space, so do we
affect the _there_ which is our environment: that is to say that the nature of our
relationship to the world in which we live is the determining factor of our
spiritual growth or stagnation.

This general principle, if it is true, is one to which there is no exception. If

it applies in one department of life, it applies in all, and therefore to the
physical body into which we are born as much as to the community nation or period
in history in which we begin that life.

At the beginning of each incarnation, a new personal field is gathered round that
part of the spiritual Ego which incarnates (remembering always that, as with
Krishna, the Ego "remains" even though it has, with one fragment of itself,
created and pervaded the microcosm of its personality). This personal field is
conditioned by the historical past of the Ego as a reincarnating entity. That is,
it contains at least a part of the history of that Ego as an individual, but it
has also, at the physical level, the history of the race and family into which
that individual for the time being is born.

In other words, the incarnating Ego brings into its etheric-physical field-that
field through which plays this waking consciousness and his awareness of the
physical world -- something of his own personal history, while the heredity
derived from his parents supplies the racial history. The two together form the
equipment with which he has to meet the world during the span of time of that
particular incarnation.

Heredity supplies physical characteristics, through the germ-plasm of the parents

out of which the physical body is developed. Thus the colour of hair and eyes, the
general configuration of the body, the tendency to certain diseases, are derived
from heredity. The mental characteristics are not hereditary, though the structure
of the nervous system is, and this plays into the mental-emotional field. But the
mental-emotional nature of the child is his own, and the vital or etheric field in
which his physical consciousness plays is gathered together and created by
himself, and merely rests upon and uses the denser physical organism provided by
the parents, as a house may be said to rest upon its foundations. This denser part
is what is called the _physical elemental_, and the life in it can truly be called
the sub-conscious as distinct from the _un_conscious, which is primarily mental
and emotional.

There is a close psychic-magnetic connection between the bodies of the father and
mother and the microscopic but very highly charged particles of those bodies
which, uniting, are the fertilized ovum from which the new body develops. This
link endures so long as those bodies exist. It is along this channel that psychic
parental influences flow, particularly from the mother, and focus chiefly at the
etheric level in the child. The child is thus conditioned from the moment of the
sexual act leading to his conception, and his outlook on the physical world can be
profoundly affected by what happened at that time, because the inner man can only
contact the physical world through the vital-etheric mechanism, part created by
himself, part provided by his parents. In this way, the parents may be taken as
highly indicative, perhaps not of the spiritual status of the child himself, but
of the particular kind of karma with which he has to deal during the time of
incarnation.

If the child is unwanted, if he is conceived in an atmosphere of shame,

embarrassment, guilt or fear; if the parents do not really love one another;
corresponding conflicts will be reflected into the child's own field, and
represents the results of conflicts within himself from the past. On the other
hand, the child who is the result of real love, has a good foundation to his
emotional and mental life.

Incidents, both physical and psychic, occurring during pregnancy similarly

influence the child through the vital etheric field. After birth the very close
connections between mother and child gradually wanes, but never vanishes entirely
as long as both are alive. Finally, round about the age of seven, the incarnating
Ego assumes full charge of the body through its own vital field, and the process
of incarnation is fully achieved. But, as both St. Ignatius Loyola and, centuries
later, Freud and others have told us, by that time the physical basis of that
particular life is established and can only be altered by positive action from
within the mind to which that body is attached. It can be stated in general terms
that, just as the physical embryo recapitulates, while in the womb, the main
features of the sub-human kingdom, so, in the first few years of life, the child
runs through the cultural levels and phases of consciousness of the earlier races
of humanity-and so of his past. He becomes fully incarnated in his body round
about seven years of age.
Then up to about 35, he is concerned with establishing and consolidating himself
in life, the main Egoic progress of the incarnation taking place from then on.

Thus the student of Theosophy can learn to see himself, in his own physique, his
mannerisms, his habits of thought and feeling, a practical example of the workings
of the law of karma. And if he is wise, he will realise that he has to accept
responsibility for that karma, and in so doing change himself through the power of
his own indwelling Self.

This essay is, as stated at the beginning, intended only as an introduction to

study. Consequently, any discussion of dream interpretation, methods, techniques,
and so on, have bee~ omitted. Besides, there are still many things' which are
still a mystery, and likely to remain so at present. But much can be learned by a
critical study of books, though no book can do the same thing as the actual
experience of being analysed. It is therefore suggested that the student read
carefully and study deeply the books of the principal people whose ideas have been
discussed, as well as any commentaries or e~ositions of them.

There is no need to make a list of the writings of Freud, Jung, or Adler. Others
which seem worth reading, either as relating to the general field or for the
particular and specialised aspect they touch (and they are only a few of many),
are, for instance: --

Yoga and Western Psychology . . . . . . . G. Coster.

The Inner World of Childhood . . . . . . Frances Wickes.
The Inner World of Man . . . . . . . . . Frances WickeS.
Instinct and the Unconscious . . . . . . W. H. Rivers.
Morality and Reality . . . . . . . . . . E. G. Howe.
The Open Way . . . . . . . . . . . . . . E. G. Howe & L. LeMesurier.
Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War . W. Trotter.
The House that Freud Built . . . . . . . Wolters.
The Psychology of Co G. Jung . . . . . . Jacobi.
The Psychic Sense . . . . . . . . . . . . Payne & Rendit.
Paranormal Cognition . . . . . . . . . . Bendit.
The Psychology of Childhood . . . . . . . M. Fordham.
The Organism of the Mind . . . . . . . . Heyer.
Telepathy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . W. Carington.

There are also older books such as those of William James, W. McDougall, and the
older psychical researchers, and of philosophers such as Leibnitz and Bergson. The
only warning which need be given about one's reading, is to beware of thinking
that a glib, superficial approach, or one which is too emotional or "goody-goody"
is of any real value in understanding the deep and far-reaching problems of the
human mind, and of how to live according to the spirit which informs it.

THE THEOSOPHICAL RESEARCH CENTRE

The Objects of the Centre are as follows:

1. To ensure that the Theosophical Society shall receive the full benefit of every
advance in science, medicine, art, education and other realms of knowledge.

2. To influence the world of thought by the application of theosophical

principles.

-
The Centre is at present composed of Groups engaged in study and Research in
Science, Medicine, Symbology, Education and Psychology. Each Group is led by a
Fellow of the Theosophical Society but individual students need not be Fellows.
There are several types of Groups for both Study and Research according to the
work that is being undertaken.

There is no subscription, but all members are expected to take part in the work
and to buy the Transactions as they are published.

PUBLICATIONS

These are nearly all out of print at the moment, but several are in course
of preparation or of revision.

"SOME UNRECOGNISED FACTORS IN MEDICINE"

can be obtained from

The Theosophical Publishing House,

68, Great Russell Street, London, W.C.1.
At 7/6

Full information from the Secretary: --

50, Gloucester Place, London, W.1.

# END #

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