“The list of his works is endless, monumental; it shows us an untiring soul, an immense and indomitable will, a total ignoring of himself for the benefit of his fellow-members.  This is not the conduct of the charlatan, not of the self-seeker.  It is that of one of those brave and long-tried souls who have fought their way down through the vistas of time so that they might have strength to battle now for those who may be weaker.”

Others may have been more eloquent and learned, but who has been so wise?  Others may have written more beautifully, but who with such intimations of the Secret Spirit breathing within?  Others have explained intellectually tattvas, principles and what not, but who like him has touched the heart of a hidden nobility?  Has he not done it over and over again, as here?

“Do what you find to do.  Desire ardently to do it, and even when you shall not have succeeded in carrying out anything but some small duties, some words of warning, your strong desire will strike like Vulcan upon some other hearts in the world, and suddenly you will find that done which you had longed to be the doer of.  Then rejoice that another has been so fortunate as to make such a meritorious Karma.”

Or he speaks as a hero: 

“To fail would be nothing, but to stop working for Humanity and Brotherhood would be awful.”

Or as one who loves and justifies it to the end: 

“We are not Karma, we are not the law, and it is a species of that hypocrisy so deeply condemned by it for us to condemn any man.  That the law lets a man live is proof that he is not yet judged by that higher power.”

To know of these laws is to be them to some extent.  “What a man thinks, that he is, that is the old secret.”  The temple of Spirit is inviolate.  It is not grasped by speech or by action.  “Whom the Spirit chooses, by him it is gained.  The Self chooses his body as its own.”  When the personal tumult is silence, then arises the meditation of the Wise within.  Whoever speaks out of that life has earned the right to be there.  No cunning can stimulate its accents.  No hypocrisy can voice its wisdom.  Whose mind gives out light—­it is the haunt of the Gods.  Does this seem to slight a guarantee for sincerity, for trust reposed?  I know of none weightier.  Look back in memory; of the martyrdom of opposing passions, out of the last anguish came forth the light.  It was no cheap accomplishment.  If some one meets us and speaks knowing of that law, we say inwardly, “I know you have suffered, brother!” But here is one with a larger wisdom than ours.  Here is one whose words today have the same clear ring.  “The world knows him not.”  His own disciples hardly know him:  he has fallen like Lucifer.  But I would take such teaching as he gives from Lucifer himself, and say, “His old divinity remains with him still.”