XXII
QUANTITY
STEPHEN at our next meeting was
wholly determined to complete his discussion of the quantity of
consciousness. He led off thus:
"Quantity of consciousness is
developed, not simply through
the undergoing of mortal experience, but rather through its assimilation. The man who greatly
develops his quantity orders
his experience, which of itself is chaotic. He learns of life not only
knowledge, but wisdom.
"Now, to say that in its potentiality
such a servant attribute as reason is qualitative is a fairly accurate
way of stating the truth. Its earth-plane development, however, is
quantitative. And the individual who develops such an attribute thereby
gathers unto himself some measure of quantity, but not necessarily the greatest measure.
And why not, Darby?"
"The goal," I answered, "is complete
and perfect recognition by the individual of his
partness with the whole. Great is the
quantity of the man who uses his quality, be it high or not so high, in
service of the whole."
"Again," spelled Stephen, "there is
joy in heaven. A man of great mental attainment, if he would greatly
develop his quantity, must place his mental equipment at the disposal of
the whole's development. Truly service is the practical expression of
quantity."
And now must I set down fact that no
sooner had my scholarship for a second time caused "joy in heaven," than
I betrayed a grievous misunderstanding.
I said: "Except Stephen, as the
individual, wins quantity from sources outside himself, from where does
it come? And yet how preposterous, if the quantity of one man's consciousness is won by him at the
expense of another's!"
"Preposterous is right!" spelled the
ouija-board. "I have said
nothing to justify your inference. The whole of consciousness can
neither increase nor diminish; science has glimpsed this fact in its
theory of the conservation of matter and energy. But that whole is subject to
development, both of a quantitative and qualitative nature, and the
individual differs not from the whole. Man's development on earth is
quantitative. This does not mean that he actually amasses consciousness.
It means only that that consciousness
which he is develops
quantitatively. By development of quantity, therefore, I refer to that development which pertains to
consciousness as quantity."
I raised the white flag. Joan,
complaining of "fine-spun
theories," shifted the trend of the discussion.
"Stephen," she said, "can you take a
specific individual and tell us of his quantitative development?"
"But surely," answered the
ouija-board, inviting Joan and me to consider the instance of one I
shall call D. R., an old man afflicted with an incurable disease which,
though it permitted him to be about, had rendered him quite childish.
Joan and I had spent Christmas with D. R.
"D. R., as you have always
recognized, is of a high quality of consciousness," spelled Stephen. "He
has, however, developed the quantity of his consciousness out of all
proportion to his quality. Though never possessed of great reasoning
power, he had an unusually retentive memory. This he developed to its
utmost, thereby compensating for what he lacked in reason. Then, too, he had unusual insight into human nature, and this also he fostered.
His third great asset was his liking for people and the resulting
craving for good opinion. This cast
of mind he put to great advantage; it gave him sympathy for many men of
many sorts, and at the same time saved him from falling into the
pitfalls laid for the good mixer.
"Now, by using what gifts he had, D.
R. developed quantity such as is frequently unachieved by men of greater
quality. There was, it is
true, a selfishness in his quality, but because of his quantitative development he was
able to overcome this and give to the world a wonderful service.
"And here is a thought that will bear
being kept with you always. D. R., by the development of his own
quantity and by virtue of the service that necessarily resulted from
that development, was the direct cause of the development of quantity in hundreds of others, the
hundreds whom directly and
indirectly he served. The thought you will do well always to hold to is this, that the
individual's development of the quantity of consciousness leavens the whole of
consciousness. 'The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman
took and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened.'"
"Must D. R. soon die?" asked Joan.
"I am no fortune-teller," answered
Stephen. "But this I will say,
that D. R. is being prepared for graduation. His old friend, H. J."
(dead these many years) "is with him
constantly. The other day he recognized his friend."
And it was true. A letter we received
a few days later told us that
D. R. had asked, quite without thought of the thing being abnormal,
"What is H. doing here?"
Had D. R., a few months before,
mentioned his dead friend as
being present with him we would have set the affair down as the hallucination of a wavering mind.
Even now we cannot assert
that it was otherwise. Yet to be told one week by a ouijaboard
that D. R. recognized his dead friend's presence, and the next week to be informed in a letter
from D. R.'s home that he had inquired, "What is H. doing here?"—this
pulls one up to a stop. Can coincidence, the accidental agreement of the
words of an irresponsible toy and the actual fact as it was developing
miles distant, account for such a happening?
"D. R. will graduate happily,"
continued Stephen. "His usefulness on earth is impaired by his physical
disability, and he is eager
for conscious resuming of his work. You may have noticed his
restlessness. He is impatient to be away."
"When he has graduated what mind will
he have," I asked, "his former
active mentality or that which is now his?"
"He is sick now," said Stephen, "that
is all.
Upon graduation he will come into
possession of all that he ever was and far more than he knew himself to
be."
"Is, then," Joan asked, "the old-age
mind just a sick mind?"
"It results simply from the breaking
down of the material brain and nervous system," Stephen replied. "Often,
too, as in the case of D. R., old age is a period of preparation for
graduation."
"Do you mean that D. R., despite his
mental feebleness, is still developing?" I questioned, adding that he
seemed so "far away."
"Yes, for graduation," Stephen
answered. "That which you
note as uncanniness is but the result of new appreciations he is developing, new realization of the
whole of which he is a part."
"But," I said, "he seems to me
unhappy."
"He is not unhappy," spelled Stephen.
"He is but impatient to come back to the whole of his degree of quality,
as all who do not experience sudden death are glad to come back. He
would come back to the broader consciousness, to recognition of the great truth, to work, to
service, and the development of a new quality according to the quantity
he has achieved. Already he
knows what he always believed, that earth life is preparation of the
mortal for immortality."
"Why," I asked, "did he believe this?
He never made profession of religion."
"Because in the practice of his
calling," Stephen replied, "it was given him to be present at so many
graduations and hear the testimony of delight at the meeting of passing
souls with friends. It is the beautiful glimpse."
"Death-bed visions?" I asked.
"Yes," said Stephen, "but to the
passing soul these experiences
are not visions. They are reality."
And then, in seeming defiance of the
untheoretical Joan, the ouija-board spelled:
"A word more, of summary. Take
consciousness as the one and only whole. Suppose it to be divided into
halves. Now suppose the individual's consciousness to be divided into
halves. The halves of consciousness are quality and quantity. The halves of the individual's
consciousness are at least, for the purpose of psychology—soul and mind.
The soul of the individual is to be compared to quality; the mind, to
quantity. Now the quality of the consciousness of an individual may be,
in fact is, of a certain degree. Degrees of quality may be high or low and are easily recognized; so
also it is with quantity. An individual, then, at graduation, possesses his original degree endowment
of quality and the added degrees of quantity earth life developed. And
just as his development of quantity on
earth depended, in the final limit, on his degree of quality,
so his qualitative progress here
will be governed by his earthly quantitative advance, save, however, as each individual's
gift of quantity leavens the
whole." |