hin, full of
desires and hates, ambition, envy, longing, speculation, curiosity,
self-will, self-interest.

The teaching of the East is, that all these are true powers overlaid by
false desires; that though in manifestation psychical, they are in
essence spiritual; that the psychical man is the veil and prophecy of the
spiritual man.

The purpose of life, therefore, is the realizing of that prophecy; the
unveiling of the immortal man; the birth of the spiritual from the
psychical, whereby we enter our divine inheritance and come to
inhabit Eternity. This is, indeed, salvation, the purpose of all true
religion, in all times.

Patanjali has in mind the spiritual man, to be born from the psychical.
His purpose is, to set in order the practical means for the unveiling
and regeneration, and to indicate the fruit, the glory and the power, of
that new birth.

Through the Sutras of the first book, Patanjali is concerned with the
first great problem, the emergence of the spiritual man from the veils
and meshes of the psychic nature, the moods and vestures of the
mental and emotional man. Later will come the consideration of the
nature and powers of the spiritual man, once he stands clear of the
psychic veils and trammels, and a view of the realms in which these
new spiritual powers are to be revealed.

At this point may come a word of explanation. I have been asked why
I use the word Sutras, for these rules of Patanjali's system, when the
word Aphorism has been connected with them in our minds for a
generation. The reason is this: the name Aphorism suggests, to me at
least, a pithy sentence of very general application; a piece of
proverbial wisdom that may be quoted in a good many sets of
circumstance, and which will almost bear on its face the evidence of
its truth. But with a Sutra the case is different. It comes from the same
root as the word "sew," and means, indeed, a thread, suggesting,
therefore, a close knit, consecutive chain of argument. Not only has
each Sutra a definite place in the system, but further, taken out of this
place, it will be almost meaningless, and will by no means be
self-evident. So I have thought best to adhere to the original word.
The Sutras of Patanjali are as closely knit together, as dependent on
each other, as the propositions of Euclid, and can no more be taken
out of their proper setting.

In the second part of the first book, the problem of the emergence of
the spiritual man is furt