our astral life it is very much otherwise.
For long ages past, man has paid very
little attention to it--so little, that he has
practically lost the use of his senses. It is true,
that in every civilization the star arises, and
man confesses, with more or less of folly and
confusion, that he knows himself to be. But
most often he denies it, and in being a materialist
becomes that strange thing, a being
which cannot see its own light, a thing of life
which will not live, an astral animal which has
eyes, and ears, and speech, and power, yet
will use none of these gifts. This is the case,
and the habit of ignorance has become so confirmed,
that now none will see with the inner
vision till agony has made the physical eyes not
only unseeing, but without tears--the moisture
of life. To be incapable of tears is to have
faced and conquered the simple human nature,
and to have attained an equilibrium which cannot
be shaken by personal emotions. It does
not imply any hardness of heart, or any indifference.
It does not imply the exhaustion of
sorrow, when the suffering soul seems powerless
to suffer acutely any longer; it does not
mean the deadness of old age, when emotion is
becoming dull because the strings which vibrate
to it are wearing out. None of these conditions
are fit for a disciple, and if any one of
them exist in him it must be overcome before
the path can be entered upon. Hardness of
heart belongs to the selfish man, the egotist, to
whom the gate is forever closed. Indifference
belongs to the fool and the false philosopher;
those whose lukewarmness makes them mere
puppets, not strong enough to face the realities
of existence. When pain or sorrow has worn
out the keenness of suffering, the result is a
lethargy not unlike that which accompanies old
age, as it is usually experienced by men and
women. Such a condition makes the entrance
to the path impossible, because the first step is
one of difficulty and needs a strong man, full
of psychic and physical vigor, to attempt it.

It is a truth, that, as Edgar Allan Poe said,
the eyes are the windows for the soul, the windows
of that haunted palace in which it dwells.
This is the very nearest interpretation into ordinary
language of the meaning of the text. If
grief, dismay, disappointment or pleasure, can
shake the soul so that it loses its fixed hold on
the calm spirit which inspires it, and the moisture
of life breaks forth, drowning knowledge
in sensatio