two, the
body-that perishes at death, and the "something that survives death."
She omits to notice that a good many Christians chop him into three, to
say nothing of others, like the Christadelphians, who leave him one and
indivisible. Mrs. Besant, for her part, as a true Theo-sophist, goes
farther than the sharpest Christian dissectors. She chops man into
_seven_. When she was a Materialist she never suspected that her nature
was so composite, and we are still in the same benighted condition. One
begins to feel that the injunction, "Man, know thyself," is a terrible
burden. It is hard enough to get a fair knowledge of our organism,
its physical constitution, its intellectual faculties, and its moral
tendencies; but the task is absolutely appalling when, we have to get a
satisfactory knowledge of our Atma, our Buddhi, our Manas, our Kama, our
Prana, our Linga Sharira, and our Sthula Sharira. Anyone who can master
all that may as well go on unto seventy times seven.

The immortal soul consists of the upper three, which are a trinity in
everlasting unity. The heavens may wax old as a garment, but they "go
on for ever," and flourish in immortal youth. Death is the first step in
the process of their separation from the lower and perishable four. One
after another of these is shed, as the serpent sloughs its skin, or
the butterfly its chrysalis; or, to use a more familiar and pungent
illustration, which we make a present of to Mrs. Besant, as you peel an
onion, fold after fold, until you get to the tender core. Sthula Sharira
goes first, and the organism becomes a corpse, which is buried, or
cremated, or eaten by cannibals. Linga Sharira, the Astral Double, had
been attached to it by a "delicate cord," which is our old friend
"the thread of life"--a convenient metaphor turned into a positive
proposition. This delicate cord is snapped, not immediately, "but some
hours" (as many as thirty-six occasionally) after "apparent death." It is
necessary, therefore, to be very quiet in the death-chamber, while the
Linga Sharira is eloping. One shudders to think of what might happen, of
the indecent haste to which Number Six might be compelled, if a corpse
were cremated a few hours after death; the corpse, for instance, of a
man who died from cholera or the plague.

This "delicate cord" which attaches Number Seven to Number Six is
perceptible if your eyes are constructed that way; that is, if you are
a clairvoyant, one who is able to s