Further teachings of Gurdjief

iRtrp

' tf"gspISBN 0 7100 8938 4. Printed in Gieat Britain (TY). For copright

reasons, this book may not be sold or issued on loan or otherwise

disposed ofexcept in its original pqper cover.I

I

FURTHER TEACHINGSOF

GURDJIEFF

Journey through

this worldIncluding an account

of meetings with

G. I. Gurdjief, A. R. Orage and

P. D. Ouspensky

". ,.tlo,,

@ROUTLEDGE & KEGAN PAUL

LONDON AND HENLEY

ft_

First published t969by Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd

39 Store StreetLondon.WCtE ZDD and

Broadway House, Newtown RoadHenley-on-ThamesOxon. RG9 tEN

Reprinted tg74Reprinted and frst published

as a paperback tg76

hinted in Great Britainby Redwood Burn Limited

Trowbridge E Esher

O C.S.Nott 1969

No part of this book may be reproduced

in any form without permissionfromthe publishu, exceptfor the quotation

of brief passages in criticism

ISBN o Troo 6zz5 7 (c)

rsBN o Troo aslS + (p)

Line drawings by Rosemary Aldridge

CONTENTS

TO TIIB READER

PROI,OGTJB

BOOKI: ENGLAND

I. TIIE COMMERCIAL TRAVBLLBR

2. ORAGB

3. MEOPHAM

4. NOTBS ON SOMB POBTS

J. THB PASSING OF ORAGB

6. Hrnero oF coMING GooD

7, TI{B LAST VTSIT TO THB INSTITUTB FOR TIIB ITARMOMOUSDBWLOPMENT OF MAN

8. rar,xs wrru GuRDIIFF. 9. TArrs CoNTTNITBD

IO. T. S. UNDER

BOOK II: OUSPBNSI(Y

rI. OUSPENSTY tN I,ONDON12. ouspgNsry's cRoup. TALKS \nrlr ouspENsKy13. FORTUNB TttRNS IIBR \THEBL '14. A TASTB OF BUR3AUCRACY

I5. wAx

BOOX III: AMERICA

16. NEw RoCHELLB

17. TATIESIN AND THB FRANK LLOYD WRIGIITS18. NEw YoRK AND oUsPBNsKY19. THB PUTNBY SCHOOL, VBRMONT

20. MBNDHAM

2I. LOCUST VALLBY, LONG ISL.A,ND

page nxur

3

8

4043

JI59

68

747889

133

138

r57r@r89r97

95tozIT2r20r22

-${.

BOOKIV: ENGLAND

22. RTTURN TO BNGLAND: SOMB NOTES OF ORAGE ON TIIE.MAHABHARATA'

23. TrrB BND OF TIiE WAR. PARIS

24. DORSET. SPRAYING SASKBTS

25. SOME NOTES ON TIrE GNOSTICS

26. sulrorNc a Housr27. PARIS WTTrr GURDJTBFF. CROUPS

INDEXAclcnowledgements

toFrank Pinder and Rowland Kenney

and thanks toMarjorie Bradley and Rina Handsfor their mosr use{irl suggestions

and comments.

203214222227234

48253

vl

He who woulil yalliant be

'gainst all dhastukt hin in constancy

Follow the Master.There' s no iliscouragement

Shall make him once relentHis frst auoweil intent

To be a pilgrin.

John Bunyan

LIST OF PLAT3S

Gurdjieff with philos between pages 78 and 79

Gurdjieff 1946Gurdjieff 1948

Gurdjieff circa 1936 between Pdges 9t4 dnd 95

A. R. Orage, Frank pinder, Rowland Kenny, Fontainebleau rgzz

study House, prieurc between pages tz6 anil tz7

Putney School,'tpinterPutney School, Summer

Taliesien r94obetween pages t58 and ry9

Author and Frank LloydWright,.Wisconsin

_$.

lX

TO THE READER

rN THrs, my second journal, are related some events of my life from19z6 to rg4g, in rurope and America-the old world and'the new-my outer and my irurer life, particularly rhose connected with Gurd-iie4 Orage and Ouspensky. It is a relation of some of my

".rioor,feelings and thoughts.

-{s.John P,rly:" says, our life is a pilgrimage through the wildernessor uus world. It ts as

't we were sent, each on his own path, to be given

an opport'nirF to- exrra* certain experiences which, gii'en a real Tlach-ing, we can use for our own self-perfecting.

- Pilgrim' s Progress is a wonderful analogy

-of whar is somerimes called

,the 'work'. I myself, after years of seek'ing, found what I wanted andneeded in Gurdjieff's reaching; and, having found it, I realized that thepilgrimage h1d begun' There are a thousand obsracles-our own inerria,education, upbnngin-g and so on. Always there is the Slough oiO*f""aand the somerimes long periods of iepression; the crissing od-"riacmotional deserts; the climbing of the Aill Difficulry with ii slidingsdown and slow crawls up agul; p.elods of.leep .od forg.ttinf,;;;e,of remorse of conscieni.

"nd relGt.proach; ittack, Uj, ,l""iJ"iir-"f

res::::::::::::::::ntmenJ, jedousy and anger-th. oftpri"g of vaniry and self_love;pcriods of resr and relaxation. And th"t is-th. co-pensatioi, ,rror.rare moments of the beatific vision, of wrderstanding, of higher con-sciousness and power, which are worth everythingi the pr"esence ofGod to cheer us in our state. And alwa/s in tir. fiitr".. ,ir. C.r.rri"rCity-final selGperfection.

. Yet I can say that, with all the strivings and struggles and set_backs,

t. r*T of good-luck and bad luck, the iisillusionrieltr, ,h" "*prri"*.crng of almost all that ordinary life can offer, never foi orr" ,rio*.rthave I doubted that for me 1leTeaching, in whatever fb; ; i;;;;;;,I fi: :{f Way out of the labyrinth thit we call life; and ,h;d;;;,Gurdjieff's interpretation of th! Teaching is the 'V7ay.

C. S. NottSydney, N.S.W. 196zChesham, Bucks 1967

xi

fri

PROLOGUE

sooN aFrBR ouspENsKy's DBArrr Gurdjieff's health bcgan to fail and incighteen months he had.gone,- yet right up to the Ja ru made greatcfforts, t"lki"g to people, holding il"tseJ for new movements anddances, and interviewing pupils from England and America. He knewthat his work was finished and gave instr-uctions to his ordest pupil.

In early ocober, 1949, my wife wenr ro paris to see Gurdiieff. 'tvhenshe returned she said that he w1s verr ill and had been adiised to gointo hospital, or at least rest from his strenuous activities. rre hldrefused. He knew, better_ than the doctors, that his organism, hisplanetary-body, could not last much longer, and that he *rr"rt soon die,and that he must work as long as potribl"; and he conrinued ro seepeople and direct the sacred dances.-

I went to Dorset to try ro ger my house-building finished, and livedas usual in my lonely hut on the downs. On the z9-th of October 1949,in the morning'- therg was a knocking on my dolr. A neighbour hadcomc from half a mile away with

" to.rr.gi from my wi-fe that rvrr.

Gurdjieffhad died.The man to whom I owed almost cverfthing of value I possessed,

who had.been my,-so to say, centre of gravity-fo, *or" th"n rwentyycars, had go"9, Tq would never come igain.'I wept. yer not as I haiwhen.orage-died; his- death was prematire and aireat shocrc. Gur-djieff's-was foreseen, his work was done. I wept frJm tenderness andgratitude, from a realizarion of the transient oJtot of our bodily lifeon this planet, our mortality

I packed-up and took the train to London and the same evening wentto Francc. !f th" night boat and was in paris the next mornin"g, andwcnt straight-to

-th9 chapel -* fi" American hospital where hiiuody

was lying. Thc litde chapel was filled with peoplc standing ,o,rod,xlu

Prologue

everyone perfectly still. As some quietly went out others came in.Warchers had been there day and night since his death and each stoodfor one, two hours, three hours. Strong vibrations filled the place,arising from the quiet collected state of those who stood there. Andthere seemed also to be emanations or radiadons from the corpse itself,

There was an atmosphere of conscious love and reverenceiof wor-ship, and although some could nor prevenr tears fowing there was noegoniztng grief,, or weeping and wailing. It was utterlypeacefirl, as ifeveryone rcehzed that Gu-rdjieffhad finished his work and completedhis essential existence on this planet.

After three days, at a certain time, those who were stifl in the chapelwent quiedy out, each kissilg the cold forehead of the dead man. Onlythe bearers, some men pupils, were left. And now occurred an incidentwhich no doubt would have made Gurdjieffsmile, since he used to saythat even in his most serious momenrs he wouldjoke. The body wouldnot go into the cofiin-it was too big.

So, while everyone waited in the Russian Cathedral in the Rue Daru,another coffin was sent for. Then we got into the hearse and weredriven to the Cathedral. It was crowded with pupils-French, Englishand American. Gurdjieff once said that a funeial ceremony is-notimportant; what is necessary is to put rhe planetary body away decentlyand in order-it is no more the being who formerly

"*irt"j; and thesoul, if the being had a soul, is already gone.

Gurdjieff's funeral, though impressive on account of the number ofqupils who filled the. church, was really simple, yet accompanied bythe beautiful ritual and singing of the Russian church.

The following is taken from the liturgy:

:O- Holy God, Holy_ Mighry, Holy Immortal, have mercy upon us.

'_Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spi*, nowand ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

'In peace let us pray unto the Lord.'Lord have mercy.'For the peace that is from above and for the salvation of our souls

let us pray to the Lord.'For the remission ofsins ofhim who hath departed this life in blesed

memory, let us pray to the Lord.'For the ever memorable servant of God, George Gurdjieff for his

repose and tranquilliry and blessed.memory, ler us pray to the Lord,'That he will pardon him every transgression whether voluntary or

involuntary.

Prologue

'O-God of Spirits and ofall flesh, who hast trampled down death andoverthrown the devil and given life to the world, do thou, O Lord, give

ITt jo the soul of thy departed seryant George Gurdjieffin a placi ofbrighmess,_ a place of verdure, a place of refose, *f,"o".

"ll 'ri.k

r.r,sorrow and sighing have Iled away. pardon every transgression whichhe has committed, whether by thought, word o, de.d."po, thou art agood God and lovest mankind; because there is no man who liveth anddoes not sin, thou only art without sin, and thy righteousness is to allcternity *d rhy word is true.

'ofa truth all things are vaniry and life is but a shadow and a dream.For in vain doth cveryone who is born of earth disquiet himserf, Assaith the Scriptures, when we have acquired the worljthen do we takeup ourabode_in_the grave where kings and beggars lie down together.'wherefore, o christ our God, give rest to t[y servant d.p"rtid thi,life, forasmuch as thou lovest mankind.

'Give rest eternal in blessed faling alleep, O Lord, to the soul of thyservant George Gurdjieff, departed this life, and make his memoryeternal.

'Memory Eternal!'Memory Eternal!'

After a pause, the priest began:

. 'Among thepeople who are assembled here today to do homage toS. T."1"ry of George Gurdjieff are not only the ieople of oor"o*r,Ruslial Orthodox Church but French men and wori"o-"lro, and manylnglish_and Americans, who undeterred by long distanc., f.* orr",land and sea to look on the beloved fearures hor th". last time and to paytheir final tribute.

'This shows how large and widespread is the circle of those whovcncrated this quite exceptional -* *d ho* great \ /as his significancefor all who knew him.

. 'CJeorge-_Ivanitch- Gurdjieff was born in Alexandropol near theborders of Persia and cameof a very religious family. His?ather, a manofunusual perception and intellect, attrictcd around him perron, of"rimilar kind. Among them

-ya1 the pri-est ofthe local churlh, a highly

cducated man revered by all the people of the countryside. This iranrroused in the son ofhis friend hirfirst interest in the ancient sayings ofthe Easq sayings which were not only written but handed al.# Uvword of mouth. He also implanred in him cerrain truths which G. i.Gurdjieff retained for the whole of his life, a life of unending search.

xv

Prologue

For Religion is the spiritual mother ofa man and a man musr be faithfulto her unto death. At the samc time there are scattered in the worldpearls of wisdom and it is necessary to know how to find them.In hisyouth Mr. Gurdjieff went to Persia where he came in contact withsome ancient men who v/ere venerated bythe local inhabitants as sagesor wise men. Later he met with an elderly man, prince K. and withhim was able to penetrate the very remote parts of Asia. During theircommon searching, Mr. Gurdjieff discovered certain ancient esotericteachings, heard ancient religious music and saw sacred dances whichwere exercises for the all-round development of man. Having foundwhat he sought he went ro Europe and dedicated the remaindJr of hislife to the transmission of his knowledge, first to a few ciosen indivi-duals and later to larger and larger groups ofpeople.

. 'Books concerning Mr. Gurdjieffand his work have already appearedin America and England. The books coming from his own hand andwhich contain the essence of his teachings number many volumes andare his last gift to humanity

'Let us conclude with his own words: "O God Creator, and all youwfro qe his helpers, may we always and in everything 'remember our-selves', because orly by this can we be prevented from taking uncon-scious sreps, which alone lead to evil." '

There followed a long silence, then, one by one, people went pastthe bier, making a brief pause, some crossing themselves, ro*" g.i.o-fecting, passing out of the church to the waiting cars and coacheJ Thccoftege slowly moved. ofi passing by the apartment in the Rue desColonels Renard and so on to the main road to Fontainebleau-Avon.Here the hearse put on speed and on the rough sffetches the wreathsand bunches of fowers round the cofiin began dancing up and down.

- I was sitting_ next to Foma de Hartmann. He asked about the delayin getting to the Cathedral, and when I explained about the cofiin hesmiled, and pointed to the dancing wreaths. 'I think,' he said, 'that ifGeorgivanitch could know about this, he would laugh.'

Gurdjieffwas buried near his mother and his wife and brother. Asw'e left the cemetery I thought of what he had said after the funeral ofhis brother Dimitri: 'Ceremony not important. Now let's have apicnic.'

I did not return at once to Paris, but went with some friends to thePrieur6. On the stone gate-post was a notice that Katherine Mansfieldhad lived there; nothing about Gurdjieff. I rang the bell and said that Ihad stayed there many times and miglt we look round. We were asked

xvr

Prologue

in. It was sixteen years since I had becn there, and everything was thesame, but.changed. It was now a maison de santd. Where fie StudyHouse had been v/ere now rooms for patients, and paradou had bcenro,built. The forest and the gardens were still the same, and on the roadwc-re the heaps of stones that w9 lad put there nearly rwenry yearsbcfore,.and the pface w-here I had dug for the spring of, for m", lirrirrgwater, had not changed

We drove back to Gurdjiefft apartmenr in paris, where a big Gastof delicious food had be.ri prep"t"d, with armagnac and wine] androon all were dispersed: English, French, Americans, each to his owntown or country. Gurdjieffwas dead, his planetary body buried. yetwlat was real of Gurdjieff (that which *"r-ro much mor! real than hisplanetary body) still existed somewhere in the universe.

- gy-ryr conscious labours,and voluntary suffering he had perfectedhimself. Compared with all the men I have-known hJwas, as O^rage said,r walking god-a supennan in the real sense.

fu1 his teaching remains-his writings, his dances and his music,d these can be a source ofreal good for human beinss now and in thernd these can be a Jource ofreal good for beings now and in the

funrre.

Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wailOr knock the brest, no weakness, no contempt,Dispraise or blarne, nothing but well and fair,And what may quiet us in a death so noble.

tilu

BOOK I

ENGLAND

THE COMMERCIALTRAVELLER

As r sirrD in my frstr[oumal of a Pupil, one of the results of completingmy task in the forest at the Chateau du Prieur6 (or The Institute foithe Harmonious Development of Man) at Fontainebleau was that myrelations with Gurdjieff and others from that time began to be onanother level. But no one who is trying to work on himself can staylong in the samc place. As Gurdjieffsaid, srrength and understandingcome 'litde by litde', 'by patience arrd perseverance': 'Each &y a &op,a drop. It will talce you years, centuries, lives perhaps'. -

'We had spent the winter of nineteen twenty-seven and -eight inMontmorency and had seen a grear deal of Gurdjieff, but it had beena winter of stresses and strains.

In spring we drove with a friend to Sanary, a quiet little fishingvillage near Toulon. tn May I left my fu*ily in Sanary and rerurnedto the Prieur6, where I was severely censured by Gurdjieff for somestupid things I had unconsciously done, and for which I suffered re.morse of conscience. .

In the early summer of r9z8 I returned to London and took a fat inBelsize Square. Though still burning from the effects of Gurdjieff'sreproo{, I thought over the events ofthe past year and saw how usefulthe time had been, how much I had learnt, and how, becoming 'a youngman' as G. said, I had attained a measure of responsibility.

-

In London I forurd myselfin a strange economic situation. 'When, in1923, I sold my interest in the agency for the firm ofAustrian felt manu-facturers I said to myself, 'Thank God I've left the hat business forever.' However, God, it seems, had other plans. During my life threevocations had drawn me-the hat business, farming and books. Now,

3

The Commercial TrauelletThe Commercial Traueller

I was drewn to books, to publishing or prinring, bur, try as I might,not a door would op-en. _Both my fathei and Lrother had largc-hatfactories, and eventually, through rhem, I was offered thejob ofsirtingaq age1ry for another Austrian manufacturer. Parr of me fought againstit butthe pay and prospec-ts were very good and I reluctantl/ accelted.The Austrian was one of these clever, sharp, scheming men, with asmooth 'kind' exterior, of whom the Russians say: 'He will make voua soft bed but you'will find it hard ro lie upon,' and t had b..r, *"rnedby th_o1e in the uade that he had a reputation for 'nor delivering up rosample'--rvhen the order was delivered it was not of the qo.tiry of thesamples_he_had shown-and his business had suffered. Also, they said,he b+ -had

agents be-fore, and as soon as they got business going hewould find a pretext for getting rid ofthem ro save payrng thJm c6m-mission. This man had two large factories in Austriiwheri the famousvelours hoo&, or cones, were made from the finest fur of the hare andsold to the English manufacturers, who made hats for men and womenfrom them.

So, for the third time, I became both an agent and a commercialtJavellel, repeating in my life something that my essence loathed, butthat had been forced on me by circun:siances and f"*ily associations.Yet there are rypes who love this job of going 'cap in hand' to thebuyers and wheedling orders our ofthem. 'When I hal 'ravelled' beforethe r9r4 war in my father's business it had literally made me ilI. NowI was again faced with it and dl the added associarions. An asenr is alow,-though necessary, form of commercial life; he neither iroduceslike the manufacrurer nor rlsks capital in stock as the merchantioes. Hehas only to rent an ofEce and, like Charles Dickens's Boots and Brewer,'go about'. Like the professional match-maker he has to appear smartand.adopt a smirking personality; he.must be politc and irigratiating,ready to receive snubs and insults without winiing. Bcttcr, t Aougfi,to be a stall-holder in the Portobello Road marhet, who is at liasthimself and had not to pur on airs.

T!."gh th9 job was foreign to ffie, yet perhaps ir was according tomy_qt9, or destiny; anyway, it was in my p"fi and I rcalized that Icould do it either in a state of resentment and frustration or try to do itconsciously as a_task. I asked mpelf: 'What is the good of the worl I'vedone with Gurdjieffif I don't make use of it in lifcil Hcrc is a wonderfulopportunity t_o woyk out in practice what I havc becn taught. I musrnot perform the task as an amateur, but do it as well as thc piofcssionalsand even better; I must play the role of a commcrcial trivcller; in so

4

d9i"g t_ may work ou! this design in the pattem of my life which hasalways been so distasteful-to me.' so lplungid into business and managedto play the role not too badly.

I slipped once, when the Ausaian and I called on a rich manufacturerin the West End, who began to expound to us the mysteries of themillinery trade, with himself as a very clever fellow in'the matter ofwomen's hats, who had built up a wonderful business. Watching him,I was thinking, 'What g eTpry man; with all his money and lowerover his-employees, inside ofhim there is nothing but wind.' Sodd.rrly,he caught my eye and stopped. 'Look at old Nott there,'he said.

,He's

a philosopher.-He looks right through you and knows all abour you.''As a matter of fact,' I lied, 'I was so interested in what you tyere s"yrngthat I could not take my eyes 9ffyou. I was wishing that I were

", gooi

a business man as you.' Mollified, he talked ofsomithing else, andlavcus a large order.

. 'The important thing for a traveUer to remember,' said my brother,'is "never take no for an answer". Keep calling orr. .,rrto*"rr. In theend they'llget so sick-of seeing you they will give you an order to getrid of yo-u.' It worked. I called on one **o6rtorlr every week fo"r ayear, and at last he gave me a small order which caused mc a lot oftrouble. FIowever, in six months the orders for this one hood amountedto twenty thousand pounds. At the end of three years my agency, fromnothing, with the help of one assistanr, was doing over'sil<iry thousandpounds e year. Yet I seldom could go to a *"nrif"cturer and wait onthe back stairs, sometimes in a queue, without, as my grandmotherused to say, my stomach turning clean over.

My ofiice was a tiny place, in Barbican, where Milton had lived, in asixteenth-ccntury h-ouse, 1Gw steps from St. Gles Cripplegar€ wheremy grandfather and grandmother were married,

"nd nof fai from St.

Lukes Clerkenwell where my father and mother were wedded. Therevrcre two compensatio-ns fo1 th9 detested jbb: money and frequenttrips to Vienna, a ciry that I loved; and I was always able to stop off"tParis and see -Gurdjiefi In the years of the economic depression theegency brought in enough money to live comfortably;

"rid I *", *y

own-master. l"{^F periods of personal depression I was fortified byrecalling Gurdjieff's struggles to get money for his aim, and the variousjobs he did, as described in Remarkdble Men.

A man from America once came to see me, a traveller for a bigbusiness. After we had gone ,hto"gh the usual 'vacuous amiabilities'he said,'But Mr. Nott, I thoughiyou were'a business man, a big

5

The Commercial kau eller

busines man. Why! You look more like a professor!' I had lcft mydisguise at home apparendy.

-My Austrian Mr. chadband was-an example of unconscious change

of personaliry. In front ofa possible -cusronier

he was oiry, smirkin'g,unctuous, ingratiating, wheedling, humble-Chadband and UriJhHeap in one. 'With his work-people and staff he was an arroqantPrussian. x,ven his ofrce staffstood to attention when he spoke to tlicm.A cold slint would come into his eye as he stalked aborit the factory.Yet, in a few moments, if a customer appeared, the prussian personalitygave place to Chadband

The-agency phase lasted just three years. As they had said, hegompelled me to resign; but agreed to compensat.,o.. Then he wrotefrom Austria-saying that he 'had done all he could for me', meaningthat he would not pay. Fortunately I had a good friend, who was oneof the best company lawyers in the city of iondon. It is said that oneshould never go to law except in extreme cases and when the cause isgood, since law and justice often do not mean the same. This was ago-od cause. The Austrian tried in every way to wriggle out with the

l.h :f.hit lawyers, lut ln)r friend was ioo ci.rr., for-Fm, and thoughit took him six months the mater was finally settled o.rt of court

"ni I

got fy m-onel. tn the meantime, the Austrian got the banks to lendhim three hundred thousand pounds to buy a hrfe factory in England.hr les than three years the firm went bankiupt. II. r"to*Ld to iustriawith a hundred thousand pounq, which, on account of currencyrestrictions, could not b" g9t at. The banhs lost three quarters oftheirmoney' and he lived instyle in vienna until he &ed. duch is busines.

- -If you.have to go t9 l"yt it is best to get a good lawyer who is a

friend. The rest has to be left to providenle; *i, ",

my irandmotherused to say, 'There's them above who'll see as providenceion't go tootar.

while in the felt business I leamt in some measure to apply the teach-ing of tle law of the octave. Before, when I reached tii ioint whenextra effort was needed to get over the interval, I would iinc ,tp

"ndstart something else. Now, I \aras ab-le to stop myself fronigivinlg up,and compel myself to make more efforr to g.i onir rhe interial. 'iod",curses are our opportunities', and looking back I see how valuable theexperience in the agency w?s, enabling me to gain inner strength bytrying t9 -o"rlcope my weaknesses and compelling mpelf to Jndor"some of the displeasing manifestations of others withoot res€ntment.

At the Prieur6 we had Gurdjiefi and in New york, as begirurers, we6

The Commercial Traueller

had Orage to remind us to remember our aim; alone, one constandyforgets; and I frequendy found myself groaning and moaning at beingimprisoned in the loathed hat business, forgetting how it could be usedfor my aim. [t is a question of performing the daily round as well as

one can, remembering that each day is a phase, a succession of evenB,and will never return. As I have said, Gurdjieffoften spoke of the needfor patience and perseverance, in small things and large. 'If you cando small things well, you will do big things well,' he said to a pupil. Thepupil asked, ''Well, Mr. Gurdjiefl what do you suggesr for me? Whatcan I do?' Gurdjieffsaid, 'You, you know, wanr to be big man, havelarge car, large house, be president of company.' ''Well,' said the pupil,'I'm asking you, what small task can I begin on?' 'You really wish toknow? I tell you. When you go lavatory, always remember pull plug.'

2

Oage

St. Lazare in Paris, and something made a strong impression on me.When the first whistle blew Gurdjieffgot into the carriage with threeor four of the older pupils who were going with him. When he cameto the window, he radiated such quiet power and being and light thatwe who stood there seemed like pygmies; his strong calm was a con-trast to the nervous excitement of the other passengers and their frien&who were seeing them off As the train moved out his gaze was fixedon Mr. de Salzmann on the platform. He smiled at him, made a strangegesture with his hands, and withdrew.

A week or two later I heard from Orage.'M*y thanks for your letter!' he wrote. 'I need not write at lengthbecause my plan still holds to come to England in the Spring and staythere for at least six months. But we don't propose to live in London orto live a London li6. I shall not hold any groups wharever, though, ofcourse, I shall love to meet our old friends of the Institute from time totime. My idea is to live in the country, within reach, by car or train,ofboth London and the sea, and chiefy to write. That's the only meansI shall have of making any money, I'm afraid. We need a house that ischeap and furnished, and leasable for six to eight months. If you hearof such will you make enquiries? We've booked our passage on the /eGrasse, sailing May zz,

'Gurdjieffarrived in New York yesterday! He nee& money againfor the krstitute I gather, though I doubt whether this time he will getmuch. He sdll talks of finishing the book in a month. His coming, has,

of course, bust up my group meetings and leaves me desperately placedfor income, but I must be "clever", I suppose, and find a substitute.Anyhow it's no use talking.

'Our love to you both. t look forward to seeing you and other oldfrien& again. .

Yours everA. R. Orage.'

I began to look for a house for Orage and in berween times gottogether a few who had returned to England from the Institute. Therewere ten of us-the only 'Gurdjieff' group in England. 'We mer oncea week and my wife played the music of the dances, which we practisedfrom time to time. It was something.

In the early spring of r93o my wiG was put in touch with the Ber-trand Russells who had recendy started a 'modern' school at Harting

9

ORAGE

wrrEN' AFrER rrrE vnan-with GurdjieffI returned to England, Ieavingmy wife_and small son in France, and busiedmyself gettiig established]I realized that it was over seven years since I had left Loridon and, al-though I renewed associations with many old friends, I felt the needto be in touch with at least rwoor three whowereinrerestedinGurdjieff'sideas, but all of these were with Ouspensky and of them I kne#onlyone, a vroman. 'We met but, after a short talk, she said,.you know,I'm afraid t

".*-, see you again. Really, I ought not to be seeing you

now. The rule is that none of us in Ciusp"nrLy', groups "r.

tolp""kto any of Gurdjieff's or orage's pupils. If we shodJmeit them ro"i"[ywe are not to speak of anything or anyone corurected with the system;if the rule is broken we shall have to ieave.'

It was the same when my wife returned. Even Dr. Nicoll, whom sheknew well during the four months he was at the prieur6, could not seeher-. Eventually I wrote to ouspensky that we would like to meet himand Madame ouspenslcy again. A le*er came from one of his olderpupi\, Dr. H., hyr.i"g me to-meet him. Apparently *y replies to hisquestions as to why I wanted to see ouspensky were ,tttritirf"ctory,for I heard no more.

- !J**tf, _r93,o, I heard that Gurdjieffwas about ro go to AmericainjgbryV (the first time sinceJanuary ry24) and that O-rage who wasstill in New York, was planning to .om. to rnghnd after-G's visit. Iwrote.to Orage aslcing if t could be of use to him. In February, I wasin Paris and went to see G. at the cafiS de la paix. But he was so busyinterviewing people-prior to his departure a few days hence that I hadlittle opportuniry of speaking with him. one thini I remember-hisreply to something I said. tt was, 'If you acknowl--edge your sin andfeel remorse of conscience for having done wrong yo""t ritr is alreadyforglv.en. Ifyou continue to do wrong-, knowing it ioie so, yoo "o--i,a sin that is difficult ro forgive.'

I was among those who saw him and his parry off from the Gare8

Orage

in Sussex. Eventually they offered her the post of music teacher, so wepac.ked up eygry-thing in the car and drovi down for the spring term.At once we liked the atmosphere of the place-the feeling Lf friedomand goodwill.-We liked the Russells and the stafl especifuy BerrrandRussell, one ofthe kindest men I have met. During

" i"n *iitr'Berrie',

as he was generally cdled, we felt that his ideas on modern educarionwere so reasonable that the school could not fail to bc a success. ltwasrun on similar lines to Dartington, though Dartington had a millionpo""4-t -b.lhd it and this was run on a slioe-string. qoite simply, theRussells' idea was that children should have a good physical life]a'goodgrounding in necessary subjects and an emoiional life through riusicand painting and so on.

Russell himself told _y hoy he had always felr himself handicappedtbrough never being allowed ro use his hands as a child-he

"ooddo1o physic{ tasks at all, such as gardening and minor repairs to thehouse. Endowed with a magnificent mentdlenne, his rwo Jth"t..nt .,wer.e underdeveloped- Pardy because of this rhe Russells, like so manyintellectuals, werc lacking in common sense, not only in world affairs

lol q the practicd things of everyday life. For example, we werelodged at Battine House in East Marden, a mile or so fro?n the school,with somc of the staff 'We arrived a few days before the children. Thehouse was &rry, the foor and walls of the dining room covered udthfilth and grease.When we spoke about it he said,

t'We had an anack of

tr:kp pox last term, bur we've had the house thoroughly fumigatedincluding the dining room and it should be all right nJw.;

'Can't the di"i"g room be cleaned and washedl''I'm afraid our kitchen staffis already overworked.''Do you mind if we do it?''Not really. But is it necessary?'We and the teaching staff decided that it was and set to work and

washed the whole house cxcept the kitchen. But the kitchen staff offour, which included a neurotic young man cook and nvo not verybright village girls, threatened to resign; they considered that we hadinsulted -fu- b_y

-doing their work. However, by using flanery we

managed to mollify them and they even became friendly.The school should have been a successfirl modem school, and if the

Russells had been able to be more practical in the rururing of it, itcould have been a model for future education. Compared with th" twoschools I went to-thd Board Council School in Harpenden and thesmall private Dotheboy's Hall School in Yorkshire, it-was a paradise,

IO

Orage

with the open downs and the sea not far away. Real efforts had beenmadc to arrange life so that the chil&en's potentialities should devclopnaturally. There was a sense of growing life and freedom in theatmosphere. The children were happy, and learnt far more than I did atschool. They had plenry ofliberry. One morning, Battine House, wheresome of the children lived, was unnaturally quiet. Not a single child wasabout, and though we searched wc found not a trace. At the height ofour consternation a message came from the vicar that they were in hishouse. They had got up very quiedy before dawn and gone to thelitde churchyard and sat there to sec the sun rise over the downs, butgetting cold and h*gry had woken up the vicar, who had talcen themin and given them cocoa and biscuits.

We had brought a young Russian girl with us from London, whohad come from France to livc with us and learn English. Her father, ofan old Russian 6mily, was a fricnd of Tolstoy. When Stalin, the Czarof that time, began to reign, her father advised his sons and daughterto go to France and after many adventures they arrived in Paris. Hcreat the school, after the first meal in the long dining room with thc staffand tk Russells, she asked me in French, 'h that Lord Russell? But he's

Jewish.' I said, 'No, it isn't possible.' 'I'm sure,' she said. 'You see, dmostevery 6mily in the Russian aristocracy hasJewish blood. So many hadto marry richJewesses to keep their estates going. We know.' A litdelater I noticed a largc p"i"ting of a beautifirl woman, obviouslyJcwish,h-giog above the stairway at Telegraph House. I asked who it was andwas told, 'llhat is Mr. Russell's mother.'

As with the Russians so the English. Few of the aristocratic Englishfamilies are withoutJcwish blood; thc impoverished owners of esatessometimes married into rich Jewish families. It is said that there is

Jewish blood in thc Royal Family, from Albert the Consort. Orage,speaking of the Jews, said that they wele.a small tribc of the grcatSemitic tece, a conscious experiment on the part of Moses. Moses choscthem, not God. He received the'Teaching' from the Egyptian priestsand taught it to theJews so that they should be an influence for goodin the world of their time which was breaking up. But, according tothcir prophets, they were a stiflnecked, stubbom, aggressive people,dways &verging from the real teaching. And the Sufis say that theyeventually forsook the teaching and became a danger to the cosmicplan, and had to be dispersed. Yet such was the force of Moses' teachingthat the effects remained, and for two thousand years the Jews havehad a great infuence, good and bad, on succeeding cifizations. It is

II

Oruge

said that Oliver Cromwell, whose family name was 'Williams, was

more than half \trelsh Jew, hence his rolerance of them. The innerteaching of the Jewilh religion has been preserved unspoilt by theEssenes; and much of it can still be found in the Zohar of which th"kabbalah is the kernel. Professor Denis Saurat has pointed out that theinfuence of the kabbdah (and the teaching of the Sufis) can be foundin the occult tradition which rurs through English literature fromSpenser to Mikon and Blake. There is erren a p"rri"l description of theenneagram in The Faery Quean.

It is a mistake to speak of anti-Semitism-it should be anti-Jewism,for theJews were a very small part of the grear Semiric rac" which in-cluded the Asyrians, the Phoenicians and the Arabs.

! beg1n-to search for a house for Orage. After some weeks and manyrniles of dri"iog about Surrey and Sussex I found the very place, inRogate, not far from the Russell's School; an old stone farm-housecomfortably fumished.

Orage wrote: 'You seem to have defined exacdy what we wanted.'We had our farewell group meeting last evening and it would havedone your heart good to wifiress the scene. I love the group; and Icouldn't bear the thought of being long out of touch with them. Butmy ne\Ms must wait until we meet. Meanwhile I should be very gratefulif Rosemary would purchase a crib for a young man of two yeirs andget the house ready for us. As somcone was saying, you and Rosemaryare both so resourcefirl thatJessie and I are babes in comparison. I wouldapologize for all the trouble we are giving, if I felt youixpected it; butthank Gurdji"fi *. don't feel you do. And now I'm straining at thecollar to be in England with you all.

Ever yours.'

I &ove to Plymouth to welcome them. tt was two years since wehad met and when I went on b oardthe de Grasse from the tender, Orageput his arms round me and hugged me.

Two days later we drove over from Battine House to see them. Therest of us were getting lunch ready, while Orage and my wife talked inthe [ving room. She began to play some of Gurdjieff's music and,happening to pass the open door, I glanced in. Orage was wiping thetears from his cheeks. What was the matter? Was it because for

"1oogtime he had been working under pressure in New York-especiallyduring Gurdjieff's visit-and now, in this quiet spot of England, the

I2

Orage

tension was released? And the music had loosed the springs of his heartand caused the tears to {low? I thought ofProfessor Skridloff's weepingon the mountain with Gurdjieff.

Why are the English so afraid of showing emotion? Up to the endof the eighteenth century the English were not ashamed to weep whendeeply moved. The idea that it was bad form to show that one feltdeeply began in the dark ages of the nineteenth century, and only inEngland. Karl Marx wrote ponderously on the tragedy of capitalism;but no one has written about the English tregedy of suppressedemotions and sex energy in England in the nineteenth and earlytwentieth centuries. The idea that sex was the great sin, and that it wasbad form to show feeling, maimed the English emotionally. The terrftlesacrifices of the English to their great god 'respectability' was another6ctor in this maiming. The nineteenth century with its brutaliry,sentimentaliry and hypocrisy was a part of the Kali Yuga, rhe iron age,in which we are living and in which the life of man, his social life andinner life, degenerates at increasing speed, with wars and old civfiza-tions breaking up over all the earth.

Yet Orage was not sad but very cheerful. Wc dl were. My wcekdayswere spent in the ciry selling felts, and the long week-ends at BattineHouse, going about with my wife and the Orages. We &ove dong theSussex lanes, stopping for bread and cheese and pickled onions andbeer at country pubs. Our talks, in which hearts and minds were joined,were always stimulating and sometimes even intoxicating. 'When hewent to London he stayed with me in the fat in Hampstead, and wewould lunch in Soho with some of his old'New Age'fiends.

Orage and Bertrand Russell had mct only on paper, and I very muchwanted them to meet in thc flesh, but Russell was reluctanr and Oragehesitant. Russell had been annoyed by Orage's saying n the New Age:'the trouble with Mr. Rusell is he doesn't believe a word he writes'; itwas largely true. However, they f*"lly agreed, and I arranged for usall to meet on the beach at West Wittering where we usually bathed,and which at that dme, even in the height of summer, was more or lessdeserted. The Russells and ourselves arrived andhad a swim, and waitedfor Orage and his f"*ily. Time passed with no sign of them. At lastRussell became impatient and said that he must go; and, just as his cardisappeared Orage and his f.*ily came along the beach. A puncturedtyre had delayed them. So by a few minures we rnissed one ofthe mostbrilliant conversations thar never took place.

My relationship with Orage was now on another level. Instead of ther3

Orage

6ther-mentor-teacher I had left in New york, he was now an elderbrother and a beloved friend.

This was one of the happiest summers we have ever spent.

- orage and, his f"-ily relurne! ro New york in the autiumn, landingtherc a few days after Gurdjieffhimself had arrived on another visit. Itproved to be a difrcult winter for Orage.

On March rsr, r93r, he wrote: 'I've-led the life ofJack-in-the-boxsince my return here; and until G. leaves, I expect it to continue. [nother respects things have gonc fairly well, alsoihe 6*ily. But, in the

1bsa9e of a penny of income from the old groups I've had to conductfourliteraryclasses a week! And even then tf,e.orir always baying atthe door. 9.i g"i"g may or may nor change things for th. betier,"hisefGct here having been to kill the interesr of"t le"sitloee out offour ofthe old members. I don't know whether they will ever return, ercn ifI should be disposed t9 rry_ro reassemble them. G. talks as if he expectsme to-carry on as before; but in spite of my constant association-withhim, I'm not feeling even warm about group work. He has a miracletoperforq 1 tgn days. He has the intention, it ieally appears, ofpublishingpart of Beelzebub's Tcles here in New york. That will-be some-thing tangible if rt comes ofi But he is making such impossible condi-tions that ng.publisher,ll.l acg9p-r them; and,'ln fact, G'.

""r*o, """[ye{pect it. All the same, I do think we are near publishins somethins!tYer, w. did have a good summer in Sussex, fi'ddt;;i.;;i;t;ikfor a more congenid group in Paradise!

'Thcre are a thousand things t'd like to gossip to you, bur I haven,rthe time to write 'em. They will have to keep for

'the summer. I,m

still of a mind to rerurn to England for six rionths, though I've hadno news of the New Age. Now buck up-all of you-Eut you inparticular. Ileaven knows you haven't G. Ln your back as I have, andyou truly have no excuse.

Affectionately,A.R.O.',

On March r4th, he wrore:

- 'Gurdjieffsailed last mid-night, leaving behind him an almost hope-lessly scattered and hostile group. He has given the impressioo,

", o"i",

before, that he cares for money only *d thittkr of the N.y. people inthat light done. Of course it isnot io; but I despair of pointiiq ti *1,evidence in support, exceytt rhe evidence that hi has alienated"th" ti"tmembers as well as the poor. I can't say at the moment what will happen

r4

Orage

to the group here.-G. expects thcm to send money each month, but,fi:rth f am not willing to tax for him, and secondly, the group *ill rrotgive much voluntarily. It will take weeks to get th"it

"ooid*.e back-

cven in me. But time is a healer.

_ 'I'p sorry but not surprised that you cannot find a publisher for thePsychological Exercises; and the same fate, I presume] will lay in waitfor on Loue and other essays. I still think tL" htt""wouldieil; andyou are at liberty to risk publishing it. only remember I don't advise it,rny starsin publishing 1re very unfavourable. Gurdjieffcould not haveknown this or he would nor have left me to publish the selection of9lapten from Beelzebub, wlichhe has. There-are four chapters-TheWarning, C-hagter y Beelzebub in America and, Epilogue-i. all about7o,ooo words. I'm to find a_publisher-ifpossible-anJget the book outas soon as possible! What luck will be necessary!

. 'f9d1l is the firstday I've breathed frcely sinte I hnded. Ouspenskyis as bad as Gurdjieffabout writing and printing-worse, he has'ress tosay.'

April roth:'The paralysis lefr by G. has not been cured yct. So far, I haven't had

" F..tgup meeting at all. Something new is needld and I can't imagine it,

still less invent it.'

In April I let our fat for the summer and took a fumished viila atBovingdon in Hertfor&hire. Then business took me to New yorkwhere I arrived a few days after Gurdjieffhad sailed for France. I weirtat once to the Orage's fl1g in Gramercy park. Several people were there,agrong them orage's old friend'will Dyson the Aultrafran cartoonisr.That cvening, Td by degrees later, I heaid the story of Gurdjieff's visit.

W* lyy-g this visit to New york that he wrote the fint chaptersof the Third Series of his writings, in which he describes what iookplace at that time and why. He fuo gives some diffcult exercises forinryr 1or\ some-only for pupils who have worked for a long timeand seriously on themselves. As Orage said, 'My psychologicjexer-cises are the merest kindergarten compared witi thise, y"i C*dii"ffsays thlt the ones he gives are exercisei for beginners.'

. Gurdjieffhad seen that Orage's group had got stuck-as all groupsdo at times. He said that every g-op i"r

" f,ttd*"y to "oo"Lt "i"o-o gl" or other aspect-ofthe work, so that the work becomes lopsided.

And hc gave the pupils some big shocks. He told them, amoni otherr5

l

Orage

lhgr,.Ql ,lr:y had become 'candidates for a lunatic asylum'. Arthe end of his first wegk wit! them_they did not know whether theystood on head or heels. He had called-a meeting just before Oragearrived and said that they must sign a declaration t["t they would havenothing more to 4r *irf Mr. prag9, which of course caused a gooddeal of.heart-searching about what they ought to do. Some dry, i"t"r,when the excitement was ar its height, at a meeting with GurdjieffandtJre pupi!, Orage rurexpectedly *"ned in, read ihe declarati-on, andthere and then signed it. He began to speak, and told them that Mr.Gurdjieffwas right and that he himself was resolved to have no more todo_with t|r. -M" Orage that was; work must begin again, on new lines.

Orage had died to an old self. Anew,lighter yet wJighti., Orage wasto emerge. (It was this incident rhar caused T. S. Matthe*, *J;. C.Bennett many years later, to state that G. had 'fired' or driven Or"g"away. Not.knowing G. as Orage did, they could not be expected iounderstand.)

Something of the sort had happened in tgz3, with Ouspensky'sgroup I London. But, while Orage had profited by the shock,Ouspenslcy had not been able to, and had gooe hir own way.

lt was soon after Gurdjieffhad returned ro France after tks visit inr93 r that Orage wenr to see his old friend J. C. powys who lived inPatchin Place, New York, and whose sistJr had been in his group.Poqrs wrote to him:

'Dear Orage,Neither my friend P. nor I can get you out of our heads. We have

agregd that your visit to us was th" g.e"test event of our winter inPatchin Place. 'we

came to the conclusion that whatever ambiguousnessthere may be in rfre narure of your mythology there musr be simethinEprofoundly right in your own attitudl to*"idr it. There's to*.ui"n rl"fixed-up", so unctuous and conceited about these Indian Swamistdesoteric teachers, just as there is about christian scientists, somethingthat is unilluminating and does not vibrate to the shocks of real life,something that seems to face life through wads of cofton-\,sool. Wego ol puzzling ourselves as to exactly what it is that malces your phi-losophy so different from this; what ii is that makes yorrr philosophy,ofrcsh and natural and faltering and troubled as all genuirie attitrides to

Jifc gyeht to be, tenuous and almost brittle and wilh "

peculiar sorr ofhumility in-it-no! nor exacdy brittle; but shaky ani troubled andinsecure-like Nietzsche and [lnamuno and pascal and Heraclitus. The

r6

Orage

impression you left_was yhat Spgng-ler calls Magian-like somethingEarly Christian or like those early heretics. We got so strongly thefceling that lrowever unsatisfactory end even to be condemnel yourgods might !9, yoot anitude towards rhem was curiously right *i folof incidental illumination like that ofJesus toJehovah. whatever cultof consciousness yours may be, its effect on your hearers is startling topeople as clairvoyant in certain directions as my friend p. and I are. iouar-e undoubtefly nght in making so much of humiliry. That organonof research, that plummet into salt seas, that wise seipent-b.lllr tl"tTaoistic water seeking irs level, has not only been neglected by Greeksand Romans but completely neglected, or indeed noi known or heardof by the stupid thick-skinned bastard-idealish of our time. We sotthe impression of actually and really-don't be angry now!-havingentertained a real Saint that day. It was a very queei Geling. As if youhad been a person in armour but who was Gcredy bleeding fromwounds invisible. You didn't convert us one inch or one-hundredthpart of an inch to your particular gods or ritual or doctrines or master-But you compelled us qrd-still compel us ro accepr yourself in yourpresent mood as possessed ofsome extraordinarypsychic secret (one greatportion of which is this ffanscendental humility or whatever it may be).

'I think we both snatched at some drop of this virtue o, "rri"

o,emanation and have used it ever since as a test of spiritud values. It isextraordinary. You alone of all men of genius I have ever met seemtotally to have conquered pride. And when one thinks how silly suchpride has made people; and how it has spoilt their art-like VictorHugo, like D'Anmrnzio, like Tolstoy, it seems to me a triumph oftrue Machiavellianism of the spirit to have burrowed below this-greatblock of Pordand cement into wonderful interstices of moon-igateand moonstone below.

'But I do think the whole thing is in the Daimonic saindiness whichyou have somehow, by some extraordinary trick, appropriated toyourself. Those 'secrets" you speak of that you wouldie willing tofollow the pevil Himself in order to learn-we must "oof.rrj*yfriend P "ld l-ro regald as of slight imporrance compared wirh thismagical effect wtrich 'lhe humiliry of the hunr" afteithem has pro-duced in you and which is, in itself, so we allow ourselves to feel, a-kindof Absolute and something infinitely superior to any force that srarredyou on such a path or to any tangible "secre*" that such a path canlead to. It's no good your telling me thatJesus thoughtJehorr"-h *",

","good" as He was Himself. We know whatJehovah was better thanI7

Otage

Jesus! But ofcourse if forJehovah you put Lif", it rs true that any ,'un.of

elcef tio.nal genius like yourself comd much closer to LiG by keepinghis skin naked so to say

-(naked in humility) than by Mining it rJ.rni

with those fannel swaddling bands Augusior, "r"ordirrg

to Suetonius,used; or even by wearing the proud-armour of LuJfer. This is awoman's.letter, my good lord, as-well as a man's, so this particular tone(of handing out bouquets); almost "marcrnal"; which'would be in-tolerably impertinent from a lecturer to so formidabre a literarv andphilosophical critic-is narural and harmless (and not impertintt atdl or cool orcheeky)-ir two of us witngour wits. Indecd liues it willalwap take the double wit, of a m"n

"nd a wornan combiied, to deal

with so subde a Demonic saint as yoursclf! what wc secretly f.el our-selves is that you will eventually reach a point when yoo h"oe attainedthe extreme of humility

-such as no longlr to be in tire reast do'ger of

Luciferan pride-and at that point we hold the view . . . welLdt thatgo . . . We know nothing really about it. But somerimes out of the

Tg"thr ofclumsy onlookers-yo-u know!-even a sage can get some_thing. . . . At any rate you certainly made us both thinf a lot,td as forl$q.g- "fantasric" about it all-we arc completely with you therc.In the "6ntastic" lies the essence of things.

'We.ll-I mus.r stop. f T fi9 future you not only defy but separateyourself from all outward authority but that of the Daimoo io'yo*own being it will only be, I f.rry, when this planetary humiliw ofyours that has prorred so illuminairng has gone-the rufl bngth o'rittserpent's tail! And tfiis may not be far ofl-I-if. is more

-th* "rryauthority. They

-are- all stepp-ng-stones and jumping-off places.

- 'Wcll-good luck go with 6rage, yoo "Ltaiirly-*ooiot only our

hero-wonhip but our most anxious love on your behalf but rfr at must bea corlmon e4perience to you in your strangepassage through thc world.

Good luck to you,

John Cowper powys.'

_ This letter gives an authentic picture of the inner world of orase.

the results of the miracle that trairsformed the ol.l O."ge i"t; ,il;:;could not be expressed better. orage's chief fcature ciuld have been'he never can say "I don't know"'; in his mental alrogance hehad trad

9o give ln 1nswff ro every question. Gurdjiefftold him that he was a

'super idiot', in the :regative iense; he *"r io* being transformed intoa 'super ifigC rl the positive sense, and this visit

-of C*aii"ff', h"acompleted the dange. krstead of the old attitude 'I may r,oti" always

r8

Orage

right, but ['m nevcr wrong', Oragc now would often qualify a state-ment with '[ may be wrong, I often am'. Yet people still write aboutOrage breaking with Gurdjieff about his disillusionment with him;perhaps they seek relief from their own inncr suffering and cmptinessby slandering someone or something higher than themselves.

During my brief visit to New York, Orage told me that he hadenough money in the bank in a special fund subscribed by the pupilsto pay for the publication of Beelzebub. fnopf, the publisher, hearing ofthis had approached Gurdjiefl and rather unctuously announced thatas the publisher of Ouspensky's books and others of similar character hewould be glad to publish Beelzebub's Tales. Gwdjieff listened and

said, 'Yes, perhaps. But certain things are necessary.''And what are your conditions, Mr. Gurdjieff? I'm sure we can mect

your requirements. What would you wish us to do?''Not conditions. One condition. One small thing.''And that is?''First clean house, your house, then perhaps can have my book!'However, Gurdjieffleft without giving the book to a publisher; thc

time for publication was not yet come. Orage then made arrangementsfor a hundred copies of the boolc to be Roneoed from his copy of thetypescript (th. ooly one, apart from Gurdjieff's own) which were to besold for ten dollars a copy, only to people in groups and thc moneygiven to Gurdjieff Fifry copies were soon sold, but it took nearly tenyears to dispose of the rest, the last being sold in r94o for one hundreddollars. I was very glad to have my copy and as soon as I returned toEngland I started a group for readings.

During my stay in New York I went to group meetings and waspresent at the last one, in Muriel Draper's apartment. Orage said: 'Bya strange coincidence this is the last meeting of the session, and the lastoccasion in nearly seven years on which we shall meet in this almostsacred room. It will be diffcult to reproduce the atmospherc that has

been created herc. When I tlink of New York I shall think of thisroom.

'As you know, Gurdjieffhas said that he might refirn. If he does, Itrust that another opporttmity of first-hand contact with the author ofBeelzebub's Tales will not be neglected; the behaviour of the group thistime has been so passive as to be almost useless in increasing under-standing of the book.'

One of the group then said that he had never been satisfied with ther9

Orage

lli&*g ,".thority,.behind some of Gurdjieff,s staremenrs. Orage,sreply was that if we listened from essence, from our understandirre."w"would know when Gurdjieff was making exaggerated ,;";;;;';,shock us, and when he was spcakingtre"".roiii.r*r-ilrh*;prrsaid that he had had his -ot.-y', woith mmy times over in th"

"irtir-tainment Gurdjieff h_ad provided. Another, that he had continuallyexpected some new thing to happen during the meetings, h;pi""A,clear explanati ons wo uld- be gin-.ir, only to"b. dir"pp oiri-# rrirrrT ."i.orage said that Gurdjieffrarely gavedirect answers, except to certainpeople at certain times. Another pupil said that a Gw thiriss Gurdiieffhad said to him and the way he h"i s"id them, had gi"."ii* ;i.;understanding about himseli and about rhe work,

"rid thi, "rr* i"abeen worth ten rimes what he_had put them through. Another, somc_

what to our amusement, said that Gurdjiefft b"h"rrtrr.**ilil;;_hensible, and that, for him, Gurdjieff"himself was a grear stumblinsblock to the understanding ofhis ryrt.-. Another, ";";;:;i;;;i?the questions put to Gurdjieffhad not been sensible *j;;;rilrr*.ri.irhad not been able to formulate any question that had brought a reason-able answer.

OySe said that all questions, if they were essence questions, weresensible. and importang since they would show Gurdji"tr *t;" ;h"person had got stuck. Like the birds in Mantiq Ut_Tiir, .".h *oJdspeak according to his _ry^p:. A.:..ryin-psychologi.rl.ffort *";;;;;to get anything out of Gurdjieff. If, when h-e had ffeated oo.rrioo,seemingly brutally or had seemed to fail in his promir. ,o'"or*.,questions, the group had got up and left, Gurdjieh. would h",r. ,.*that there was a real intensity of wishing to know. As it was, pupils satin.front of him passively. Someone saiJthat ir was exrrem.ii dffi.;itwith one's small will to make an impact on Gurdiieff's terrihc beine.orage said that for himself one result of the visit-was that his ;J.i-standing had been deepened. He added, ,And you *iU ."."iu"Uvrealize that this has also happened ro most of you:. Orage continued, 'I now invite questions, perhaps those vou mishthave asked Gurdjieff. I may not give the

"rrr*i* h.'*o,rlJt;; ;:;,but I shall do mybest to *r*"t.Irhall also be glad to t.", for*;ft;;;ot rdeas and impressions receiv-ed 4ot-g this interval. Gurdjieffmakesstatements for effect, intended for shock and not necessarity ta alwaysfor their factual content. He startled you by saying A", y.i *.r;.ll;;the

way to becoming candidates for a l.ur"tic "ryl"o*;

th.o 1"t", h;.1;that on the whole the group was ail right and that he was not ar a[

20

Orage

displeased with ir. He liquidated the group, but he also wished it tocontinue until I leave in May, and it wai said that Dr. Sg'oernevalgiShglome-over if Gurdjieffor I were nor able to rerum. iurdjiefft"liquidation" is only of a phase.

'our discussions of the book and our intellectual exercises have notbeen wasted; they make the work harder for us only because we havebeen "educated" in the theory of the system beyond our station innature. 'We must leam to "do" practically. you have had the move-ments and dances, and many ofyou have been able to spend at least onesummer at the Prieur6. Gurdjieffhimself has said that it -"y be neces-s,ary fo1 some to studythe_theory for years, and that it is ali right if inthe end youwill proue the theories to yourself Hassein was as "#ll-less"as any 9f fou; he w_as, so to speak,'"reading the book and trying tograsp it". For you, this is a proiess of tryingio wrderstand. wilen"w""co.me of age" tlr9re will be an impulse io .do,';

then, regulated by anunderstandingof thetheory,we shill be able to ,,do',. Oui time on thebook has not been in vain-though we might have spent more time onit. You will remember thatGurdjieffgave you the fabre of the fy andthe elephant, and for a1 explanatiln hJ said, "ask Orage". The idea was

+T malry people set themselves difficult tasks and ti'en, in despair ofdoing them, do nothing at all. Before starting to make * .l"ph*teffort wc must learn to make that of a fly. Sonie of you ,."ro to'thioLthat be.cause you_have-worked on yourselves yoo ooght to be able tosolve all the problems rhar come up in your rel"tiottr #th other people.Cyldji9tryfs, "If you can learn to-b."ioo. manifestation of oo. i.rioo,yht:h. irritates you, you will have learnt to make the efforr oda fy,'.{nd.$i1is a great deal. As an example of a relatively elephantine task,

,Gurdjietr says, "Six years ago I came ro America *itn Arty pupils,

knowing only four people here: Jessmin Howafth, Rosemary iilLrd(Rosemary \9*),-y9o, Orage,

"nd Sqlo.*.yal. I had only a Lundred

dollarswhen t landed. How&d t kno'ithat youwourd not bestrandedand starving here? This dme I come and everyone wants to see me. I amtouch"d.that so many vrant to see me. But confess, Orage, that yourheart sinkswhen you hearthat I am coming!" on the ,1116"" curilieffseen$ to care very much, more than most, but irxide he is infifferentto how these chances of his will tum out. These exercises tn will arcre$iv.e-ff clephantine. Bur you must not undertake exercises in will,real will, that involve har"rds to yoursel{ when you cannot yet exercisethe will of a fy.

'In regard to the question ofdoing, it is not that this group is especially2T

Orage

will-less, but that it is conscious ofthis will-lessness. The more consciousit is of this state the more promising it is. The Behavio*irt 1.1i".,r",as we do, that organisms only te".t,itrd that Nature has not endowedhuman beings with will. The psychological difference between theyrfentlnding ofthe Behaviourists and thit ofus *ort rt g i' rh"r. ia.",is that, for us, will becomes an emotional6a. only ftori a t"air"iio",-not a theoretical knowledge-of will-lessness is it possible ro acquire

'9"l *ill. It is acquired by a succession of efforts *i.*.rar.r,it'i,

"phase gone tt"r"gh consciously, to make ,,men" i" q"or"ri;i *"rL,become men.'

. orage then told the 6ble of the potter's apprentice, who, because heF:* ".thing 9r rwo thought-he knew ii "tt-"ni,priiiii" p"".''What do you think it m."ni?'he asked.

'Don't do,-un1il you understand,' said a pupil.'Yes. Gurdjigff- says that it takes .,year^s,, to

'nderstand, ,.years,,

meaning I period necessary for reaching a correc crystallization, acrystallized conclusion. All around him

-he t"* p.ople t yin! t a",when they did not undentand.'

one ofus said, 'such as writing about the ideas and explainine themto others before they understand.-orage said, 'yes. rtr. ti-" *ifr"oLyha-!*pl9 who did not kngw Gy-djietror met him occasionally will19

talkqs about him, "explaining" hlm, "nd

so presenting a falsl an<ldistorted piaure.

Red will is developed by initiative and must be started on a smallscale. For example, if you are occupied with hard work all .t v, ."*_thing is a reaction to stimulus. But when you have a free hour what ioyglperrynaUy initiate? The utilizatiott of ft

" momenrs is the making

of fy_ efforts. Gurdjieffsaid that in *itiog the book h" ."ro" to hrrcpencil and paper and thc very idea of writing; he had to force himselfevery day to begin.'

4 pun_rl s4{''I should have thought that Gurdjieffwould have becomeso detached that he could work like a machinJ.'

'oh no, the status of being is constant selGinitiated effort. will is

1e19r agquired in what just.happens; it is always effort-effort againstinclination, inertia, routine.'

someone asked, 'why-&d-Gurdjieffrefuse to answer questions aboutselGremembering and self-observation?'

orage said, 'He leaves that for the pupil-teachers. He is at work on atext-booh for the school, which is m,tch-more important for the schoolthan his discussion ofthe work. He says

"orr.r-prioorty, ' art oi"l"i"

22

Oage

He is not repudiating or belitding the Method. A sentence in thc StudyHouse at the Institute says, "Remember younelves ev"rywhere anialways". The chapter on Belcultassi is about it; the booi concludcson this theme.'

Another asked, 'Why &d Gurdjieffsay thar he doesn't know whatthe book is about and that he is astonished at the ideas people get fromIti

. 'To shock you, of course. To make you ponder. The book has gonethrough three stages. You know the original tide of the cpilogue:"Ecstasy,of Reveladon". Afrer a long period of work on-hiiselfGurdjieff's "I" became fully developed; is he said: "When I say .I,

it is as if I hear something ratde inside." In such a satc he had a revela-tion of the book from beginning to end. hr rwo or three houn hedictated a sort of synopsis and sent it to me. I said that it was utterlyunintelligible and could not be shown to anyone. [r was, in faa, insucircryptic shorthand that he, lv1r. Gurdjiefi found it hard to formulatefor.Gurdjieffyhat- "I'l had ecstatically understood. He wrore it again"and now, in the third writing, he is putting it into a form in wirichonyofle,."even donkey'' as he says, can understand it-not literally, norso that it is-subjec to proof or disproof. From one aspect it can be com-pared to Rlake's prophetic works, though it is much-more comprehen-sive and plausible; and the kcp for understanding it arc in the 6ook.

''We are still far from that order of being thatian do without meet-ings and directors or leaders. very few of us have a sense of the threeresponsibilities even after six years. some have a sense of one. The firstsense of indivi.llal responsibiliry is that unless I spend my day advana-geously from the point of view of consciousneis and devclopment, Iam lapsing.or disloyal. The second is responsibiliry towards orir ncigh-bour-the "members of our tribe" striving to *ork on themsclves indovercome their faults and wedsresscs-thi striving for consciousness.When you can say that no wave of circumstance is so hieh that vouare submerged and lose sight of the Method, you have- attained ameasure of consciousness. 'We must learn, through the Method, tostrive to make use of everythi','g that comes out *"y; and yet I stillhe.y pgo.ple wh9 a5e going through a dificult phase compl"io th"t ,.totalk of the Method ar such a rime is trifling".

-

'The third responsibility necessary for a real group, what Gurdiieffcalls the begirurings of a mesoteric group, has tJ do-with the worl ingeneral. h this respect, I think, we are weakest.

'1lhe personality ofJesus was not very different from ours. He was23

I

/

Orage

not an occultisr, not a c-alifornian. He spoke of a livingJerusalem, thc

.City of cod,

3 gtg,r.p of people yotkina in lving ideai.-fheosophic"l

literature spealss of the masters, the red teachers, as "the elder brithersof the race"-an ideal of a being who could not act but as an elderbrother. If you dissociate patriaich and matriarch from their socialassociations and consider the quality of the words, you will have aconception of that which distinguishessomein"groop

"r "elders". This

is noticeable among children,-though, too often, those with the qualityeventually become corrupted. 'when it is really presenr it indiiates astatc of "being".

- 'When a pupil has reached the sage of being able to accept these

thlee kinds of responsibility and has aJquired th"it"t., of "onr.iousrr.r,which accompany them, he can be either a circumference or the centre

of a circle. some members of a circle have a communion which is notperceptible nor is it occult-it arises from their common understanding,their abfiry to_put themselves in the other's placa It e.r.n b..omr, ,ni-necess-ary for them ro meet often. Thinlc ovir this and you will realizehow far we have to go before we reach rhis state.

'I may be back in January for a few monrhs. But the conditions ofattendance at the group will be completely different from thc pastand present.'

So much for my inner world ofthose three weeks in New york. Asregards my outer world, the world of business, it was a 6ilure. I wasastonished at the chang-e since my departure less than four years before.Shops were empty

-of customers, streets unswept, shabbines every-

wlere; soup queues, bread lines. Twenty million p-eople without moneyto buy foodlined up each day ro receivea dole toieeptheirfamfiesfroistarving. It was as if a terrible war or 6mine or plague had passed overthe country.

. 9" trr. kmatic planet men periodically go mad. In this state theyb..gt" t9 destroy each other, oi p.rr."rrt eich other, or deprive eacirother of the right, in tom. .oootries, eyen to drink wh"t tlriy like. Invarious wap thel make life intolerable for themselves, usually fromsheer stupidiry-the results of the consequences of the orga' Kund"-buffer.

. The present state vras a blinding example ofhow life is organized bythe-power-possessing beings on this planet. In America

"loln. tw.ory

million peogle were going h*gry while food was being destroyed.Wheat was being used as fuel, fruit dumped into the sea bly thousands

24

Orage

of tons a week. Farmers were being paid not to produce wheat andpigs, and dl because there were not enough dollar bills, printed piecesof paper, being distributed with which to buy them. The big bankswere bursting *ith money, while the small banlcs failed right and left.

The monetary system first broke down in America; from America itspread to Canada, then to Europe, to Australasia and to every countrywhere the gold standard operated. It was an extraordinary example ofhow the minds of power-possessing beings become fixed along a cer-tain line, and rather than depart from this line they will let millionssuffer. Only the big banks and big business did not su{Gr. For mysel{, Ilost a valuable property in Corurecticut to the mortgage company, who,by a trick, foreclosed.

Only the Communists were jubilant. The downfall of the capitalistsystem as foretold by their prophet Marx was at hand. Yet the situationin Russia was still worse. In Communist Russia Stalin deliberatelystarved the peasants; much has been written about this, but no onehas written an epic of Europe and America starving in the midst ofplenty through sheer stupidity of the rulers. Communism and Capita-lism-two sides of the same coin.

\Vhen I returned to England, to Bovingdon, in May, I found myfamily uneasy. They were not happy in the house. A friend who livednear said, 'This house is haunted; haunted by a peevish, ill-natured,depressing ghost.' I said, 'You may be right.' There was somethingquecr about it, though it was a new house. The proportions were wrongfor one thing; and it seemed to have been just set down on the earthby a contracior-not built with loving care.

Our friend, who was pardy'Welsh, was sensitive to atmosphere. Shehappened once to come to our fat in London about half an hour afteran emotional turmoil in the true Russian mariner, raised by our youngRussian friend who lived with us. We had as usual made it up, andall was well; but our Celtic friend said at once, ''Whatever's been goingon here?' ''What do you mean?' I asked. 'Nothing's been going on.Olga's been staging one of her Tchekhovian scenes again. It's nothing.'We all love each other.' 'I knew something had happened,' she said.

She and her husband, some years before, had taken a derelict farmwith a seventeenth-century house and transformed it into a small estate.They began by planting rowan trees: 'to keep the ghost away.' fo *ycase, their house had such an aii of peace, beauty and well-being thatwe always felt better for being there. Their type ofEnglish arisrocracy,

25

Orcge

and.the yeomen from which my people came, are the salt ofthe Englishearth.

{1}r*"}', whether it was my-mother-in-law who had been visitingus from America, or a fiend who was stayng with us, whose emana-tions often produced a depressive atmospheie, or a combination ofinfluences, our gencral stare was ro opptorive I felt that we must getaway, and arranged to drive to St.Jean de Luz where Bertrand idDora Russell were staying. I wrote to Orage and told him ofour plans.He replied: 'Oh dear! Oh dear! ['d have gladly sharcd the expdse ofyour house in-Bovingdon for a,month. you say you are leaiing onJul-y sth. Well, I wonder apprehensively what you are going to"ao.'Where

are you going and what you propose foi us? WJ shJl arivea.s arranged and hope in you and God to meer us with some plan. Atthe worst, I suppose we can stay in London a few days, but ivorst itwould be. No. I can'r think that you-who have got yourself and usout of so many diffculries, won'r get us all out of this.t

I cancelled olr1 trip to France, met Orage and his f.-ily at the docksin London, and broughtthem to stay with us. With the ioming of theOrages we forgot the whimpering ghost.

- I-once took Orage to Luton, where most of my business was done. Ihad to see two or three manufacturers andtook Oragewith me. After-wards I asked him, 'How would y9y like to have t6 earn your livinglilce this?' 'It would be complete hell,'he said.

4, fi. end-ofJuly theOrages started on a motor tour in England. I,

lTfi -*y wife and small son drove to France, visiting Gurdleff andfriends in Paris, then to Chartres, Bordeaux and so to 5t.;ean-de Luz.

P*i"g our stay there, Dora Russell and a friend suggJsted dri"iosinto Spain; so we set off in my car, the three of us, nof knowing oneword of Sp,nish; but signs and money will always supply basic ieeds.After we had crossed the Pyrenees and left the mountains and forestsbehind, the rolling open country recalled scenes from my beloved DonQuixote. We stayed a night on the way, and then on to pamplona.About-thiry kilometrcs from there a vrornan hailed us, making signsfor a lift. Her face and head were bound up in a silk scarf She *.tlt"tid,'Pamplona, Pamplona,' pointing in that direction and to the car andherself, and going through thc motions of having a tooth our; so Irnotioned her to get in. She kept her 6ce covered all thc way, bur assoon as I" got into Pamplona shejumped out and disappeared.

Pamplona was still very much in the eighteenth century-. There wcrevery few cars about, for at that time only thrcc main motoring roads

z6

Otage

existed in the whole of Spain. On the ramparrs was a rope,walk wherea man and boy walked backwards and forwards making rope. ft was acharming town with its own life and character.

On the third day, early in the cvening, we were siuing at a caft in theenormous Plaza, listening to the band and watching the dancing. Moreand more people came to the already crowded caGs. Probably a fiesta,we thought. As it grew dark and the lights came on, we became awareofa growing tension. Arguments and rows seemed to be starting; then,at a calE in the 6r comer of the square, a rurn got up from the tible andhit another with a botde. Arms waved, bo&es rose and fell. A singlepoliceman, in a colourful and decorative uniform, went about trylngto calm excited groups. lfhe terxion increased, as though they wcrewaiting for a signal. The iron shutters of the cafils began to be drawndown, and a man came to us and said in English, 'Excuse. please gohome. Trouble will come.' I looked up as he disappeared and noticidthat the four entrances to the great square were blocked by cavalry.'Perhaps we had better be going,' I said, so we strolled over to theband-stand, where soldiers had quiedy taken the place of the band. ThePlaza was choked with cxcited people, and suddenly, as we wdked inthe direction of our hotel, the toUi"tt on the b"ndstand began firing.As ifpo-ssesse{, every91c ran screaming and shouting, my companionstoo, and I urderstood the meaning ofpanic fear, and myself felt a wildurge to join the crowdand run. Then I said, 'No. I must try not to give$'ay to this mass psyc;hosis.' And I wdlced slowly across rhe t"prdlyemptying square. [n a minute everyone except the soldiers had dis-appeared-people were crouching beside the caGs and shops, and all wasquiet.

Later, my companions said, 'You .r /ere pretty cool.' 'No,' I said,'redly I was hot with terror. That crowd was like a herd of mad cattle,I was trying tg keep myself from being carried away by the panic.' Itwaf pertly pride too, trying not to do as dl the others were doing; andreal pride can sometimes be a help in keeping oneself. 'What was soterrifying was not so much the shooting but thc blind force of thccrowd in panic.

Next monring it was bright and sunny, cveryone going about theirbusiness as ifnothing had happened; yet this was the first rumblings ofthe storrn of war, civil and world war-the beginning of the effeit ofSolioonensius, whose tensions were then affecting chieny Spain andGennany. I will spealc about Solioonensius latcr.

Wc remembered the woruur with 'toothache', who was probably a

27

Orage

delegate from the village we came through. Bertrand Russell, in one, of ldl sweeping statements in which there is sometimes some tmrh,

said that the more beautiful the place the worse the character of thepeople. For example, the people of nradford in yorkshire, one of theugliest' most brash, modern-otigf i" England without a single buildingof real beaury, have a basic kindly, ess.ntial qualiry almost-untoucheiby their surroundings. And in thi beautifirl ciries of Ma&id, paris andHanoverpeople have killed and mutilated each other as no herd ofwildbcasts ever do.

I returned to London, stayrng at the prieur6 on the way, and leavingmli 6mily with frie.ndl in Brittany. There was a lettei from Oragetclling me that he had taken a house in Bramber, Sussex, for the summerand asking me

1o slay with them. During my few days there Orage and

I walked over the Downs,'exchanging sobie"ti"e views. He said ihat hefelt that his work with groups in Ainerica had come to an end, and

-another phase was beginning; that to every pupil the time comes when

he must leave his teacher and go into lif" andworL out, digest, whathe has acquired. Thsr he can return to his teacher, ifneclrsarv. ooanother level. It was not thar he had left Gurdjieffor the Teaching, butbecause of both he had reached a certain stagi and ir was necess Jry forhim to stand on his own feet. In ordinary life no one stands on his twnfeet, but on those of another,. Part of Gurdjieff's reaching layjust in this:to show a man, indirectly, how to stand on his own t!.t.'-

orage was still uncertain whether to live in the country and write,or to live in London and start a pape_r on the lines of the old New Age,now owned by Arthur Brenton,

-*ho *tot. most of the eight or sopages-

.Orage-h1d ffied go buy the paper, but Brenton *"r rJt selling.

{ publishcr had offered Orage an advance of what today would ie{r,5oo for a book ofintimare memoirs; he had turned dovm the offer,Sq"g\

9he boo! wguld have been a best-seller. ,I am not a gosipwriter,' he said, 'and I don't intend to make money by e*porin'g tGweaknesses and futfities of my friends and acquaint*t.,

"*ooi th,intellectuals.' Benrard Shaw once said, 'Orage is incorruptible.' "

In the w"inter Orage and his, family moved to a fumiihed house inold Hampste-ad 19t {ar from us. We mer constantly. He began to pickup the threads of his life of seven years ago. 'But I fnd it dihcolt to seepeople,'le-said.'t do_nt see enough p.opl..' So I arranged a parry forlig wrth-the lelf of mf old friends Frlncis BrugiereLd li,oraiirrd"Fuller in their flat in the Adelphi. The parry was iro"".rr. A hundred

zB

Orcge

and fifty came, people well-known in literature, art and music andeconomics, friends and acquaintanccs of Orage, to whom he spokeabout his idea of starting another paper. There was that about Oragcwhich kept the atmosphere of the party on a relatively high level, so

that people actually listened to what others had to say. From this timethings began to move for him. A litde later I arranged a lunch party atAntoine's in Charlotte Street, Soho, with Professor Denis Saurat,JanlcoLavrin, professor of Slavonic languages, and Hugh McDiarmid, theScottish poet. The idea was to meet and discuss with Orage the possi-biliry of starting a joumal to formulate the causes of the breakdownof the financial system and to oudine a possible cure. After the lunchas Orage and I were walking down Charing Cross Road he said, '['vebeen liven a thousand pounds by American friends to bring out arnagazine.I'll start a monthly, The English Monthly.'

I got out a prospectus, but a week later Orage had decided to makeit a weekly. 'The need is urgent,' he said, 'and a month's lapse too long.''All right,' I said, 'but how about calling it The New English WeekIyT'

He agreed and I produced another prospectus.Orage had taken an ofrcc in the same building off Chancery Lane

and on the same foor, with the same printers that he had left sevenycars before. And his ofrce was the room next to his old one. 'fhisscerns to be a case of recurrence,' I said. 'Yes,' he agreed, 'but withmodifications. My off,ce is twice the size of the other and the magazinehas a new name.' I added, 'And you are twice the man, and the seven

year$ is an octave.'The journal saw the light of day on April 2rst rg32. From the fust

it was a success, not in circulation but in that it accomplished the taskOrage had set himself: to expound the ideas of Major C. H. Douglas,who had discovered the cause of the financial breakdown and had for-mulated it in language so turgid that few could understand it. Everyoneagreed that only Orage could make the muddy waters clear,

I saw Oragc every day, either at his office or at our homes in Hamp-stcad. A few weeks later, at lunch, I asked, 'What's the mattcr? Some-thing's on your rnind.'

'As a matter of fact, there is,' he said.'The paper's going all right, isn't it?''Oh yes, t get people in every day, every kind of person-and letters

by th" hunilred. The paper is the focal point for what is in everyone'smind.'

'Well then?'29

Orage

'It'sthese bloody notes of the week. I'm trapped. Every week I haveto rnake ffemendous efforts to get down to-ti"-. rhey have to beyfi-fr" p.t*r:t

_b1'_ trfonday mid-&y and it's often Sunjay night be-

fore I can begin. Week after week, month after month, t rh"[ fi".r. tosweat blood over rhem. No respite. Talking, fo, me, is easy ioi rowrite needs constant effort.'

'Yetthenotes read as if theywere putdownwithout anyeffortat all,,I said. 'Ev*yone looks forward to tli"*. T. s. Eliot and Herbert Read,to say nothing- of the rest, tell me that they read your notes first ofanything on Thursday morning.'

'I have no alternative but to f".p oo but they'I never become easierto do.'

9* d"y I said to him, 'you know, I think the ideas of sociar creditand monctary reform are not your real interest.'

'No,' he said, 'they are a psiudo-interest.''Not quite that. A secondary inreresr. your real interest is in Gurd-

jieff's ideas. Ir mry be that we toth have to work our ,orrr"thiog io ih"pattell of our life that seems no longer to serye a usefirl p*;or" fb,ourselves-the resulrs of former actioirs perhaps; I in the h'at 6usines,y_ou in journalism. You at least

"t. retuirrg airsefrrl purpose: you arethe only man.who could do this particulir *d ,."'.rrJry i;f ;;rhi,time. You are-b.ac|, apparendy, wli.te you were r"rr* y""rr-"go in thesame ofice, with the same printer, g-oirrg ro the same a.i.C. ani askingfor the same "large black ioffee *d

" Jirtt of prunes". t too,

"lro-"fter1ev9n y-ears in the book fiade, am in the hat brisiness again, in the samekind of ofrce, calli''g on the same people. But with "both of * tho.are snrall changes. Ifthis is t"",rrr"ti.",i"t us hope that it's o"

" qpira

and not a rourd.''There is a difference,'he said. 'Thanks to Gurdjieffand his teaching

something in us has changed. we are no longer gJing round in a circlebut ar9 relatively consci_o11 of what is hapieniig. Ferh"ps *fr* *"come into life again s76 5hrll havc different-oig"niJttr; othe'rs may havego take over ourjobl. I! *"y be that con&tiois will be, ifrrot."!i.r,

"tleast morc favourablc for inner development.'I said, 'I wonder what it means: "yo; shafl not come forth until vou

have paid the uftermost farthing". It may have to d" *ith ;;;J;,ounelves of "the undesirable eletents mixed in us", which J;;;;into,-orlush r1 into, circumstances not personally favourable for us.Gurdjiefl speakinq of recurrence, said th-at we must find .*.*pl* ioour own lives, in this life. well, our present conditions are exaiples.'

3o

Otage

Orage was something of a mystery to Fleet Street, where hardlyanyone believes what they write. A journalist on one of the big doiliescame to the o{fice. He said, 'Mr. Orage, ['ve been reading your articleson so and so in The New Englkh Weekly. They are very interesting ofcourse, but I would like to lcnow what you really think, what your ownhonest opinion is.'

'But you've read what I really think.''Do you mean to say you always write what you really feel and

think?''Of course.''Then you must be one of the very few editors who do.''Unfortunately, yes. Hence the small circulation of my paper.'

The frien&hip between myself and Orage had become very close.

We went to meetings together, to music halls and cinemas. This, andthe friendship bet'ween our wives and children, made for me what wasperhaps the happiest time of my inner life. All sorts ofmen and womenseemed to be &awn to us, especially to Orage. As our irurer lifedeepened so our outer life widened. Both Orage and myself,, too, werein the process of digesting what Gurdjieff had taught us. We spokeoften together of Gurdjieffand his teachings and many things becameclear to us that had been obscure. Never once did Orage complain ofGurdjiefft ruthlessness, though often he spoke of the dificulties thathe had made for him and confessed himself often bafred by his be-haviour. 'But' he said one d"y ir the A.B.C., 'we can never under-stand the being of a rrun who is on a higher level than our own.Gurdjieffis a kind of walking god-a planetary or even solar god. Hesaid once, "[ am the same as other men, but I know and understandmore". Another time he said, "I am small compared with those thatsef,rt me". Therc are always beings higher than anyone wc can know.I suppose I have met everyone of importance in England at least, andmany in America, and I havc never met anyone with even a smallportion of Guriljieff's being and understanding.'

He added, 'You know, you're the only person I can talk to about theideas in London. In any case I no longer discuss them with anyone whohas not worked with Gurdjieffl'

Orage's coming to London and my contact with the paper broughtme into a new and larger life. I also took up the threa& of the life I hadlived in London beforc 1923, md although often I could not inwardly

3r

angeagree with mv old qA& "T9rg the intellectuals my conract wirhthem was closer than b:t*. I bd"-;lve more in every way. Be-sides my. family anf

1ela1oru, *f".g""i*ances in the hat trade and.t5.1d g"up sffr-rns.curdii#t ideas, I mff men and;;;;{i.*the nunerous social levels of English tiG.

kr talking with men who werq studying the new economics I beganro nodce thar one topic constantly _lror"iw"r with NJ C.r**r. f,shocked me d".ply; ii was like " "fril;;;; *r"rlir_,JEi* ,f"i,

"1932, the idea of war was in the air, and it was from this time that Ibegan to feel the beginningof sotioo"."rio, i" Errop. g*.rii. ofSolioonensius BeelzJbub, fr hl, t /* *y, ,o rr"rr.irr, .The causes rhatproduce the action of this cosmi" t"*

"tl ar.rent for each pranet and3lwavs flow from and depo.rd opo" *r"rit.di.ffi;ffi;11.r*.-Harmonious-Mon"m.nti also

-often for your pt*.t f"rtf, *fr"i Lcalled the "cenrro.oFgraviry_of_caus.r,i ir'rh" pirirA" i*rl";fu"

srur of.its- system, whiih tension i, caoseJ i'ir, ,o* UyA. irrnir"*.upon their srur of a neighbouring rol"r ryrt * ""ll.d

.d;;;;;;,:"'In this laaer systemfsuch a g;""tt;;;*"f-causes

"rir;;l;;r.,among the number of its conceiuations is a great comer Sorni, which,according to cerrain known combination ir a. "o*-oiorii.-Harmonious-Movement, at times, on its falling, approaches very nearto its sun Baleaooto, which is compelred r" *"[. "-5*;;;;tJ"" t",*;:i'"rffi 'ffi *?'dg".i,T,"r"*jx**m:iile:system ors; and when the,onbrs t*rC-s iir.lfnot ro "hie.l;""A,rstog' it provokes h *ry tt'" '.*" t.*i; "ffi" ffi.:;ilriili "rits own system, among which is th. pl*.t E"rtrr. flr. t*rio" io "u;i"planets acts on the common pr.r"o."', of alr beings arising and breedingon them . . . en-gendering a desire and stri"i"g ;rip..did.F;;;;;"in the sense of Objective.Reason., e

He goes on ro say thaton the planet Earth, in place of this desire andtduTg there arise in .r, b.."or"'of ;; .b";r#t;;il;" fbr;d;dom', which maniGsts itself in rh" "."d

6;;.hd;; ,h.;;;d;;;,of ordinary existence-hence in "ri ri-" ,rr" first worrd war and therevolutions in Russia and China which follow.i. N.*,ir;;; ;;I.,t: i* |:g*iig of another ggriod of greatension, especially in:i;f-:iT-I and

lpain, and which was toipread.,r.rywh^.r" "i ,f,i,111r_o**:

pf":r. Ir was one of those periods when thl ,lo.rd-voic.jcnmourers- obtain power. An explosion occurs and men begin ;

32

Oage

destroy each other together with everything good that has been builtup by the patient work of centuries, and allwirh the 'best intenrions,

"11ioth" nlme of their gods-progi.rr, UU.rry and freedom. '

Beelzebub dso says that wars and revolutions occur at certain timesin certain parts ofour planet because nature needs certain intense vibra-tions from these parts. Because men have forgotten how, and havec3as9d to use, thesc periods oftension for the purpor" 6fself-perfection,the.force, not being used creatively, must be used-destructively. As withnatioru so with individuals.

- l,itde by-little the tension increased; it was particularly noticeable inthe big focalpoints-London, Paris, Berlin, Rohe. Each day we opencdour nev/spapers in trepidadon to see what Hider and Mussolini-weresayng or what they threatened to do. Life went on-it could do noother-but it bggan to be rather like living on the slopes of Vesuviuswhen the rumbles of an eruption are heard, with the

-weak hope that

it may not take place. Gradually the attenrion of everyone in iuropewas drawn towards those two tremendous puppets, Hider and Musso-lini, who, for some reason or other, had been impelled by events intothe centre of the world-stage. For a short period the tension becamefocused on the civil wars in Spain and china, where the inhabitantsof these countries began to"torture, murder and massacrc each other inenormous numbers. Even the crimes and horrors of Stalin were for-gotten.

- Gurdjieffnever discussed the possibilides of war; though I rememberhis saying that horrors, on an enormous scale were abou"t to begin, andthat this had happared many times before on the planet. He iso saidthat we must not allow ourselves to be carried iway by the mass-psychosis that would come like a flood.

During the r9r4-r8 war (apart from a few who enjoyed ki[ing)everyone who was in it or had near ones in it suffered, but ihesufferingwas ttrieny of theinstincts, as animals sufferJully; ;..*nl*";b;We accepted all that our masters-the politicians, the journalist, *dthe generals told us. Now, in the period preceding the Second WorldWar, the suffering- was much more in th- feelings, in the solar plexus.At times itwas as ifone could sense thelife ofEngland r'nning down thescale to the bottom'doh' of the inlerent stupidity and duGess of ourstrange race, inherent in those other puppets Neville Chamberlain,Stanley Baldwin, Ramsay MacDonald and Mot t"gue Norman.

Sometimes, when walking from my ofice in Barbican to the Ciry33

Orage

Lj"..? Club by St. paul's to.lunch wi_th m1 father I would go throughsFi"i"g Lane, a narrow g'gret alley. t woid *op *i tird*d;,h"silence it was as if I could he"r tho" old buirding,

"ruu*i-ii** ", ir

they kny glr fi:y would not lasr *".h loog?.. Th"?;il;f ,h"actrons thar led to tre eventuar desffuction of the city were already iumotion. t

'Ihere are legends and myths among ancient races and relieions inwhich can be discerned erements ofte"ciing d"rd;;;;i"i?.r*rr-ing

11ss psychosis; legends- of the anger #rt. gia, *l-*J;;;*propitiate them with sacrifices. TherJare hi"ts t the Bible. Ir, ;"r),rernote times, it is said, the priests, who were rear priests, "Ja i"ilwhen the solioonensiur *"r-"ppr*ching and ,rr"v ^."["J'rr"i"""r"together for special ceremoniiLd rinrils uy *rri"r ,rr.y *.i"

"[r.to make use ofsome ofthe tension for their o.*, b"iog. iiJy *"* "Uf"::ji:fj" f:1.*T* I's: jo destroy and rurn it inlo a positive urgetor selt-perfection. But the idea of sacrifce degenerated irto th" *i*

human sacrifices oftire Aztecs, the mass sexualorlies ofdecaying Rome,the mass murders of 'hererics'by the christiurlhur"l" r#;:r;r;fice.ofJews-by the Germanr,

"rrd *r" mass sacrifices.f th. R;;;;ly

Stalin for 'rhe good of the saft'.

When I first started going about with Orage to meetinqs where herp:k", andin my generJ coitact with i"t ll..ti"lrJ dt;;#;j;;;ot my weaknesses. In the presence ofthese people I became tongue_tied.b1

a.fceling of inferiority, because I couli ;; ,p;"k A;ffi;;;;:.'You've no need to feel inferior to any of th"r"iripld, ,;tJ6;;.'Your need is ro urderstand lour f..tl"g.f ;f#;.i;;;;;ilorganic self, to what you know in .rr"i." yo., oogk a [". Wfr*you've arrived at a ceftain stage you wil bJ able to meet people ontheir own grou'd and feel intirior to none. il;;i;i;H, ffii;r;there comes a realization of onc's inadequacy,

"ah;;f*;;;{t";what one knows one ought to be.' L r '

^ Yet orage himself remained blind to the faults of c. H. Douqras.

orage was the one man who.could clearly formulate t"A;;;il_plicated system ofideas. Douglas was a succlssfirl borio.r, *ri. n;";;;in regard to money; rndhenever forgave Orage's ,.ild,ilfi;?;:tl gorg to Gur_djieff. At a public dinner oftwo hun-itred p.opl.'iowbrte ries and tail coam with Orage sitting beside hi_,

"ni *irt, "tongue loosencd by.*"? ?olgb, ;J;;ri.."t, ;dd;;dt*tb;against certain people who had deserted 'thl

""*L'. .Ir;rl b.;;J;i

34

Orage

them,' he concluded, 'that we fought at Arcgues and you were not

there,' and sat down to loud applause but, so identified was he with the

surroundings that he also applauded.

Later I r.:id to Orage, 'AJ inverted criminals make the -best

police-

men so Douglas, an inverted financier, understands the financial

svstem.t' 'Do,.rgl", has a strealc oflewish blood,' he said. 'There ate two clans

ofDouglas among the Scots, the White and the Blac*. A long nTc-ago

**" ,i.h Jews emigrated to Scotland and married into one of these

clans. C. rf. Oo"gl"t Uelongs to it. There's a good deal ofJewish blood

in the Scots. This-new Scoitish Nationalist magenneis run and efited

by aJew.''B/ association I was reminded of a tdk with Gurdjieff and some

pupils "bout

the Tewish mixture. Some of those present werc men-

ho'".d. GurdjieffJaid to Orage, 'You, Orage, just escaped.' o1e-point-ing to me saii, 'He hasJewish blood.' Gurdjieffsaid, 'No, Arab.' Howdil he know? I had not told him that one of my grandmothers was at

least half Arab. He went on to say that to beJewish is to be brought up

in the ancient Jewish tradition-the Jewish way of life, with its good

and bad sides. Many people with semitic features have not a single

Jewish characteristic. fhe Arabs are Part of the great semitic:ace, of*t i"l the Jews are one of thc mibes.-Gurdiieff also said that there are

no real Jeivs now, only German Jews, Russian Jews, French Jews,AmericanJews, EnglishJews and so on.

He so*!ti*"t "tJd

rh. word'dirry' in speaking of pcople of mixed

blood and of races that were deteriorating. scotch, Irish and Spurish

werc 'dirty'. There was no real culturc left among them. Mixed blood

gives less opportuniry for individuality, and people of mixed blood are

subjea to specid inner weaknesses.

It said a great ded for the tolerance of the Englith, elen among.the

intelligentsia, that Orage was received by his old friends and 1cqlaint--*"., l, if he had nevei spent s.oen y."it with the 'Greek charlatan',

'the Armenian Magic Mastcr', 'the Caucasian Wonder-worker', as G'

was variously desciibed. Orage nevcr spoke to anyone about the ideas

except those, of us who had worked with hi*, not even to the man

clorelt to him of the old New Age days, 'V7ill Dyson, the Ausmalian' Iasked Dyson, 'Do you think Orage has changed since he metGurdjieff?'

'Yes,' he said, 'and for the worsc.''Do you mean he's not the man he was?'

3J

^ 'O.-.h r:: In a way he's much more so. But I think his seven years with

Gurdjieffhas been a bad thing for him.''How?''well, before, we rurderstood each other. He was one of us so to

speak. Now, there's something about him I can't get at.,

- Dyson, who was devoted to erage, could not forgirr. Gurdjieffforthis.

. HolbrookJackson was another who could not understand the changcin orage.Jackson, whom I used to meet ar The Fint E&tion club, wasa man whos" y"I- of life before I met Gurdjieff was my ideal. Likemysel4 from a child he had been devoted to books and book knowleds".like mysel{, he had been an agenr, a lace agent, in i;;;il#i.6;;.and.gon9

into publishing and-writing ab_oit books, but irad never goneback to lace as I had to hats. Even a=t school, ir seems, we had h"i th"same feeling ab_out books: the smell of the paper, the binding; and eventhe names of the publishers_on the title plg-" *.r" ,orrorriied by

"natmosphere of romance. Jackson asked melo lunch with him at'theEiffel Tower in charlotte streer as he was curious to know about thelife at Fonainebleau

"nd-y!rr the ideas had had such a strong i"n;;"

on orage. 'He's changed,' he said. 'He's lost that old intelleitual arro-gance. He never could say, "I don't know',. De Maetzu once said ofhim, he knows the shapes of ev-erything- and the weight of ,othiog.Now, I feel, he knows the weight

"r *.11.'

we talked for an hour about Gurdjieff and Fontainebleau, andat last he ,said, 'You know, I haven't

-th. ,.-ot.st idea whai you

!".._b.:1 talking abour or the work that you and Orage did #thGurdjiefl'

'It is more difficult to explain,' I said, 'than to convey a descriptionof the marurers and customs of an unknown tribe which I might^havelived with.'

'we went on to talk about his Anatomy of Bibliomania which hadj'st been published with great success and widely reviewed. 'what doesOrage say about it?' he asked, expectantly. I could not bring myself torepeat Orage's words, so I said, 'He thinks you must h"i" dtn"

"nenormous amount of work on it.' 'when I had showed orage the rwolarge volumes, all he said was, as he ficked the pages, ,fiis ball ofdung!' An allusion to Capek's Inlea pky *hi"h w"l ti* th" ,"g.among the intellectuals. The lunch and i"tt *ittt Holbrook;acksJncoincided with the last gasp 9f *y life-fisease of bibriophily, ih. lor"of books for themselv"r, *hi"h may have been inheited'iro* -y

36

Orage

ancestor, William Nott, a bookseller in St. Paul's churchyard in the

seventeenth century.I was saying to Or"g" that I wished it were posible for me to chuck

*.ty,ft;"[ "f*d go ind *otk with Gurdjieff again. Orage's rejoindcr

*"ri'Wtiy do yoo **t to return to your Father's womb?'

As regar& the ideas of the New Economics, expounded in The New

Enolish"Weeklv. the most hostile were the Old Conservatives who saw

th"'id.", as a'porential destroyer of faith in the out-moded frnancial

system; the Soi"lirtr *ho feared that they would destroy theposibilities

of th" n"tiooalization of the means of pioduction and fistribution; and

the communists who said they would destroy the faith of the people

in the coming revolution in England.

It was not long before Orage and Ouspensky ryad9 coltact; not

Dersonally but thiough Rosamund Sharpe, wife of Clifford Shaqpe,

hrrt.fito, of the Ne"ra Statesman, friends of Orage, who had intro-

duced them to Ouspensky when he came to London. Orage told me,.I've had

" *"tr"g"-frorn ouspensky that he would be willing to see

mc again; but I do-n't see the posibility y"t. He has another book coming

oot ir a few weeks, A Nei Model of the (Jnfuerse. He's sent mc the

typescript, which I've read. _If yol like to have it and give Te Wy.t**" iromise that you will not show it to anyone or speak +o"J.ti,yoo -"y have it for aweek. Here you are.' he added. A NewMuddle

oJ the Uniuerse- I found it intensely interesting and read it within the week.

Orage had heard hom Curd.lieffwho had asked lrim to go P faris

"nd ,"f him, and Orage had written, 'Time was when I would have

gone to the ends of thi earth at yout wish. Now I must know exacdy

i"hy yoo **t to see me.' 'The fact is,' he said, 'I need a rest and I have

to do'this task I've set myself. Later I may be able to work with him on

another level. When I am satisfied that i have expounded the ideas ofmonetary reform and the new economics to the best of-my "U$ Ishall start the paper on new lines. You know that Gurdj'fffhas said that

the time will iome when epics will be written by men who have under-

stood somethingtnBeelzebub. I don't ProPose to write an epic 9I *y-thing like it, bit my object would b" to itt.otporate certain ideas ofCuri.lieff's in literary criticism and of dre arts generally. I am convinced

th"t i right use of 'his

ideas, together with a sq{Y of the whole ofthe Vfatnbharata, could bring about a revival of literature in Europc

I

I

I

Orage

comparable to that of the Renaissance. But the dme has not come vet.F{e's st'll working-on the book and making changes in it and orrh"Second series. Perhaps he wants me to help I've already done a lot ofwork on the Second Series and I can't do any more at pres.nt.,'we were in'our'A.B.c. in chancery Lane and coniinued our talkamid the,ratde of cups and plates. we both felt that Gurdjieff mighthave explained more. And we both suffered very much ii*"rdl.,r""ttimes and felt bafled and frustrated, as if we had been left, like Gorna-hoor Harkharkh in the Arch preposterous, in the air, or 'stiuggring likea puppy in a deep pond'.

some weeks later I was in paris at the cafi! de la paix talkine toGurdjieffin a worked-up state and I began to speak rather heatedli, ofwhat.orage and I had said about his having brought us so far *d ti*seemingly left us in the air.

. 'You once spoke aboutpeople finding themselves between two stools,sitting on neither. Perhaps that's wheri we are.,

._ He listened giedy until I had finished, and with a sardonic grin said,

'I needed rats for my e4periments.'''What?'I asked.'I needed rats.for my experiments.'As always, on these occasions, I fell silent.Then he took me to.lunch at the,apartment and talked about many

t$q:.With a look of compassion hi said, .you are a good *an., '

'What is good?' I asked. 'Ir seems to me that goodiro, is often aname for weakness. Sometimes I see myself as whatl really am-merdede la merde, shit of shit.'

A slow smile spread over his face.

. A few-days after the publication of A New Model of the (Jniaerse, rhappened.to go-to Fontfiebleau, taking with me

" "o'py of the boo'k,

which I showed to Gurdjieffand sqioernval. Gurdjicff?erely made ascornful remark and runred away,-and Stjoernvi began to'say thattherg we-r9 many things that Ouspensky-fid ,rot ,rrid.rrr*d.',Mr.$urdjieffhas a very big plan, ousp&sky does not understand this. Hedoes not know what Mr. Gurdjieff's aim is. we who arc worlcins wirhMr- Gurdjieffhave got beyond such books as The New Model.II onlvad& to the sum of ordinary knowledge, of which there is alre"dy #my1h.-Ousgensky ought to have got-beyond it.' ' -

.ferhapl he_had to-get_it out of-his syirem,, I suggested.'It may be. I hear that he is working on another 6Jok,

"n account of

l8

Orage

what Mr. Gurdjieffsaid in our groups in Russia. lhis should be in a

different category.'

Orage said one day, 'A man named Rom Landau has telephoned me.

Hc's writing a book about certain "philosophers" and wants informa-tion from me about Gurdjieff I can't be bothered. He's a light-weight,a fluent writer but not a serious thinker. Go and see ifyou can do something for him.'

Landau was 'a representative of contemporary art', an artist with a

ide range of knowledge but with no wrderstanding of inner teach-teach-wide range of knowledge but with noing'. I gave him some superficial information about Gurdjieff, whichhe used n God is my A&tenture, but being only a writer abouthe used tn God is my Adveflture, b1ot bemg oily a wrrterphilosophy he never could understand Gurdjieffor his teaching.

Later, he wrote to me asking me to tell him what I understood about

thc Law of the Octave from my work with Gurdjiefl I said that I had

sweated for years to understand something of the law and had no in-tention of passing on what I had learnt, especially if the object was topublish it and make money out of it. In

"ny case, unless and until a

man has experienced the working of the law in himsel{, he cannot un-derstand it-it remains just information for the curious.

MEOPHAM

*HEN THE FELr AGENcy gave me up I let our fat and rented a fumished6rm house a few mileshom Meopham in Kent. It had been a manorltg*", part_ of it dating from the ihi.teenth cenrury. It was old, ram_

lhg *{ desolate, "nJ

*.t said to be haunted. k [y; "

h"U;;, A.barns and outbuildings had been burnt down some'long ,it* u"ror"and the ruins were covered with tall netdes. The land laliuncultivatedand, because ofthe economic depression, much of the at- u"J

"rooiaus was derelict. A good 6rm with buildings courd have u.* looni,t-ol ten porrnds an acre. The men had gone to the towns or were oo ih"dole. In this beautifirl:gTqyri+

"rL th. ord buildings in stainingLane, I could sense and feel the slow erosion of economi"c life.

Ill fares the land to gathering woes a prey,Where wealth accumulates and men deciy.

It was a lonely place, though nor so bad at weekends when peoolecame down and we sat before a roaring log fire burning i" ,:r"'."ir_mous open fireplace; and_in the daytirne "itr*g" p.""Jl"y over theplace-the_peace of the vibrations of people *h"o h"d ti""i ,t.r" 6,seven hun&e{ }."t-r without a break, r,ihere nothing violent orh.rriii"had, happened;. o{f the endless process of birth,

-liG, work, death_

brrth, Ilte, work, death. . . . It was not the ghosts, the sffange noises, themysterious footsteps (a rat probably), doors that opened"and ,hot bvthemselves, that noubled us, bur the cold Decemb^er wind that blerialong the dark passages and through empty rooms, and the efforts wenad to make in order to cope with daily living.

when I went to Londof I drove the thr.""*iI., to the station and

I.ft, fi: ca.r in_a.glage: Returning late one night I fbr"d ,il;;ragl

locked and, as I did not know wheie the owrrer'iived, I set o"r oi fo,Jr,

lt\hg a short cut through a_ wood. I don,t like woods ", "iglrr_.";is hemmed in, and I disliked this wood particularly, thougfi did;;

know why. There was nothing for it, tirJd as I was, but to"follow the40

Meopham

path. The moon shone bright, hidden now and then by a passing cloud.Halfwaythroughthewood, slowlygoing up the hill I sawwhat seemed

to be a dim figure in the distance. laough my heart beat 6st I went on.fire moon was suddenly obscured, than, just as the cloud passed, aboutsixty yards twy a black figure stood right io *y path, its arnx up-lifted and outstrctched. I could hardly breattre and my heart seemed

ready to burst. Irutinctive panic fear ofcenturies, the fear ofdark forests,

surged up in me, and I was about to turn and run. But another part ofme would not give way and impelled me to walk on-into danger,according to my feelings. The figure stood stock still. Thcn, as I came

to it, I saw with enormous relief that it was a small tree, the top of thetrunk cut oG with only two branches like arms stretched out. My heartstopped pumping, I went on and reached the farm in another half-hour,but the agitation caused by this incident lasted all night and left astrong impression, like a nightmare. It is dificult sometimes to dis-tinguish between hysterical unrcasoning fear, the ancestral fears ofghosts and goblins in a wood at midnight, and a real instinctive appre-hension of danger.

A week before Christmas, as a last straw, the well went &y, so wedecided to leave. 'We packed necessaries in the car and went to myparents' home where n^r.ttry of us, children and grandchildren, fore-gathered for Christmas Day. At this time I was having an attack of thewriting itch so I said, 'We will take everything including the dog andthe radio and drive as far West as we can and escape from the fogs andcold of London; and I will write a book.' It was an open car and wedrove with the top down all the way to Falmouth. Eventually we foundrooms in St. Mawes-a bedroom and living room with a piano andfour good meals a day for four pounds a week, for ourselves and thetwo children, fifty yards from the tiny harbour. The weather was mildand balmy. It was perfect. Every week I sent a batch of manuscript toOrage who returned it with emendations and an encouraging letter.

ByJune the book was finished. We could have stayed and lived wellon a small income. It was a satisfying life in many ways. 'We wereaccepted by the Cornish people and local society, and the boys playedwith the village children. There was always something to do in thisbeautiful country, and the ships coming and going in Falmouth Har-bour kept us in touch with the outside world. If it had not been for thcirurer unrest we could have slept there peacefully for the rest of ourlives, as most of our acquaintances seemed to be doing. But we returned

4r

Meopham

to London. The book was never published. t showed it to my oldfiend Arthuly""gh ofChapman rnd H"[, who said tharnot.nooghpeople

-*o"14 buy it, but that I could write, and if I would produ"cesomething of-more general interest he would consider it. Aileast, Ihad begun to learn the craft ofwriting, th",tgh the art was still beyondme.

At the end of the surnmer of ry32 we left the Russell's Beacon HillSchool, and went to France, where we lived in a pension in st cloud.11 Sep-tember I rerurned to London, leaving -y f"*ily in France untilI had found somewhere for us to live. I found

" il"t oo Rossryn Hill, ten

minutes walk from the Orage's in Hampstcad village, and the nextffiq-y"t to find a way to get money io buy the iecessities whichwould keep our carcases going.

4

NOTES ON SOMEPOETS

roR soMB rrug the idea of starting a publishing business had been in mymind; urd vcry soon I started with a hundred pounds capital, though

after the first book was published two other menjoincd the firm. It *asthc worst possible time to start, for the first thing the Blblic gives up

b"y-g in iimes of depression is books. Yet a smallpublishing busines,

in which the publisher has to do dmost everything himseffi, is an

interesting way of making a living, since he must have at least a small

amount o?[t"""ry discrimination, and must know about lay-out, type

faccs, paper, binding, reproduction of illustrations and so on. He meets

**y-dih"t*t typei ofpeople who want to see their thoughts P"lJ.iin a book. He must also do Jome of the packing and posting himself. Abookscller on the other hand only sells the publisher's products. I found

it very satisfring; and, as long as Orage was literary adviser we did fairlywell.

In the hat business I was out of my element, in publishing I was at

home. An agent or commercial traveller in busincss is likc a one or twocentred being, but a small publisher has to use all three centres. Yetpublishers and booksellers are rarely interestiiilin serioul ideas. MynewLf" *a contact with Tfie New English Weekly brought me in touch

with old and new friends and acquainances in the world of the arts:

Ezra Pound, T. S. X,liot, Herbert Read, Will Dyson, Eric Gill, EdwinMuir, A. E., Hugh McDiarmid and Dylan Ttornas.

I publishcd Denis Saurat's Three Conttentions, which brought about a

closi friendship. He had met Gurdjieffat the Prieur6 at Orage's sugg-est-

ion and had bien profoundly impressed. Saurat, a son of peasanls, h1d

a deep understanding of the rich current oflife that, fowing under the

glittering cxterior, has almost nothing in common with this exerior-I*""n tlri liG of simple people, Peasants and the middle classes who

43

Notes on some Poets

{elselye-s are almost unconscious ofit. Hc wrore about i ttn Goirs of thePe2ple, The-Eyd of Fear, The Christ at Chartres;"lro, h;i;,r"..irfr"infuer'ce of the occult tradition in E-ngrish lit.."tui. ar* sf."r.r'r,Milton and Blake. Rcbecca west said ilat he was the *ir.ri'**-rt"I(new.

He had written fot -The New Age and Revue ires Deux Mondes. Atthe time I met him h.- y": profEro, of French Lit.r";;;i";i;r,

college and-washead ofthe Frinch Instirute in London. r,prt, ,. rri*about Gurdjieff's book, Beerzebub's Tares, and t"t , t.li ii-

-*,typescript copy. He wrore:

. 'Th"t+ 1ou foJ alloqng me to see it. It is, in my opinion, a grear

book and ir is a thousand lities thar it cannor'u. p"trirt.J.A;; "very grear amowlt of wisdom and knowledge in- it and,

", I t;;;"

more fimfiar with it I rcarized that practic;uy .""ty p"*" i, rru .rsensc and information. Beyond ro*Jo*rnbl; *;#r;;;;;"peculiarities which give charm to every author, I see nothins in thebook that could be objected to. But no doubtits allegorical oi philo-sophical.meaning yt'iih is easv enough ;" ;;;;;"*i"i*'rirff"arnc Eactruons, would be completely beyond the public. I am glad tosay that lfo'nd no difficulties in the'booi<. It is a wtrk of

"n orti" nr*

magnitude in its own peculiar wav.'Please remember rkr tf

.1n. ofportuniry should arise of meeting

Gurdjieffagain I wo'ld.bc ddighted to do ,o. Ify";;;;;"*y; il;my appregration of his book-and you wiil oot" I *L"

"" ro'J.J*,

-you will give me pleasure.'If.ooly it were-possible, which I do not think it is, it wourd eive

T". fi: greatert pleasure to give a regular course "f

j.;;;J;.";;_plam rhe book according to. F/ ligb". Of coursc, you will rcaljzethat each corunentatot *oda h"rrJhi, own way ;f

"-pi;,"t'i ,h"book.

Sincerely,D. Saurat.'

Years larer, whm Beelzebub was published, I sent him a copy. Hewrote:

...'Thankyou for sending Beelzebub, and in which I am immersed. Ifile l immeryely-but fwonder *L"t th" French

""ortriorrJi-f"l1_": lll "?r

o.*.:. you can play with French in the way English hasueen playcd with there. I cannot give any answers as to a revi*ew, andGmnot think of any journal that would'accept, at present, an article

+4

Notes on some Poets

even. Also, I'm deep down with an attack of fu, and you seem to bethe same.

'Later, I'll send you some comments on The Tales.

A{fectionately,

The commentary arrived in due course, in French, which I Eanslateas follows: 'I have again read with the greatest interest naturally thisastonishing book by G. Gurdjieff I believe that the most importantthing, objectively, is that in this book there are a number of observa-tions which indicate e superterrestrial source.

'The point of view about devils.'The afiirmation that there are, at present, four centres of initiates on

the earth, and the situation of these centres.'The forbidding to impart true information direcdy to ordinary

minds.'The difference between mental knowledge, which is an obstacle to

real understanding; and the knowledge of "being"-th" only realknowledge. This, perhaps, is the most important point.

'The fact that it is Buddhism (in its distorted forms) that has producedoccultism, theosophy, psychoanalysis and so on.

'The fact that only revelation can teach us something.'The suffering of God.''We arc thus in the presence of one who, in a certain measure, speaks

with authority.'In the second place, very many of the ideas, thoogh common-

sensical, are based on intuitions well above the normal:'Every criticism of modern life and of human history is perfccdy

just, and this is perhaps one of the most important things in the book,since it is abolutely necessary to understandthx all our ideas have beenfalsified-before we have been able to correct at least some of them. -

'The Greeks and the Romans have been responsible for putting intrain fundamental errors-and then the Getmans.

'God forgives all.'The importance of the lawful inexactitudes in the transmission of

real teaching in Art.'The criticisms of the doctrine of reincarnation.'In the third place it is necessary to state that a great part ofthc book

is uot clear, and one has the right to suspect that G.G. has done thisintentionally. Leaving his sense of humour on one side one can follow

45

Notes on some Poets

his idea that it is forbidden to teach directly, and that one can tefl riesif these lies are useful ro humaniry; Sr:loyr that he fr", pr"U"iiy p*e*ors or intentional inexactitudes in his book ,o ", ,i ".ioi rri,

followers to exercise their own judgment *d a"; ,il;;l.,*;:;l"pf*.::lr. higher level, to *hi-"hj"""ora"g * the theories of G.G.,these followers would not-arrive at if he, G.d., taught th.m the iothjirecdyr In the lamer.casg they wourd be inihe

"^rr{ory*iii.r, t "ar"a^pf:1H::1.1F:1,

whe,e"s c.c. *i,h., th.m-tJ;i ffi;;;;q,ot.:-.rgow-Ie.dge of being", and the first hinders the second. e

'It is on this that each reader must take his own stand.'I am quite ready to tell you mine.'I placc among the myfrs which are to be rejected, completed or

explained:

(") 1t"_ p€rson- of Beelzebab, who is evidently a ftansformation ofG.G. himsclf-leaving on one side the question of who ir'C.e.(b) All the story of the cirtral sun, of the pllets, of thc earth and themoon; and of etemal retribudon for^" ,m"ll number of U"irrgr,which contradicts the idea of a universal;;rJ.;. --'

(c) The idea of christ as onry o"" oirtr. *sengers; in this case it isnccessary to identify the Logos, which is perdct$ r"d;J; ,h.chaptcr on purgarory.

. 'In conclusion, it seems to me that the teachings of G.G. should be

**rt:3|1r^?-1??-1-p'ry*t role in our ti*. if fr"y *; ";i;;;;yrunds trrst of alr endowed wittr a cerrain preriminary t "o*r.dg"

;J "developed critical sense.

'I tbink further that it is a compliment to G.G. to berieve that this isg*""dy -wh1 he intended himself. you know as wefl as I, and evenbefter, that he had a criticar sense and

" r.or" orhr-o* *rrl-"r" *"udeveloped; and fi*ther, a v:ry. poor oprluon .lrh" ;A;ffi;;;*;

"tryp!: to whon he spoke'ii g*.r1. -- -

, .'I shall,be,"Ty h"ppi to Lnoi what you think of these points ofvreur, and I shake you very cordially by the hand.'

once, in our talks I said, 'But so few peopre know about Beerzehub, s

*1Y,1"r,:g::l.r to happcn to;t, ,oppo'Js i, a"", j.ip"i'urlJl,rayt sard, -Nothilg

yruch may happen in our time. -W. are in toomuch ot a nyrf..Vf9 have no sense of real time in the West. perhaos

m ffty, or a hundred vears a group of key men will read it. fhey #[san "This is what w.!*,. b."i ro"'ki";-d"'i-to oo an understanding+6

Notes on some Poets

of it may staft a movement which could raise the level of civiliza-tion.

'Gurdjieffis a Lohan. In China there is the cave of a hurdred Lohans,presumably all that have appeared in China in over four thousandyears. A Lohan is a man who has gone ro schools and by incredibleexertions and study has perfected himself He then comes back intoordinary life, sits in cafEs, drinks, haswomen, and lives the life of a man,but more intensely. It was accepted that the rules of ordinary man didnot apply to him. He teaches, and people come to him to leam objectivetruths. In the East a Lohan was understood. The'West does not under=stand. A teacher in the'lVest must appear to behave like an Englishgendeman.'

'As Ouspensky and his pupils do not understand Gurdjieff' I added.'Tell me, why, in your view, did Ouspenshy scparatc himself fromGurdjicff?'

'The explanation is simple. Ouspensky is a professiond philosopher'who studied with Gurdjieffand has now set up a sort ofrival school-avery good school for cJrtain people, perh"ps,'but on a lower level thanGurdjieff's school. Really, he is interested only in the theoretical sideof the teaching. He hoped that the knowledge he got from Gurdjieffwould clasify and index his ideas, which it has, of course. Bur-Ouspensky could not submit to the pressure Gurdjieffbrought to bcaron him to break down his particular kind of vanity.'

A.E. (George Russell) and Orage used to meer once a week at theKardomah in Chancery Lane. Usually there were ten or twelve of usalso, writers and would-be writers, who merely sat and listencd to thetwo sages, whose talk often became a rnonologue by A.E. Literaturewas their chief topic; they had studied both Hindu and Europeanliterature and both afirmed that European literarure could only bevitalized and vivified by going back to a. source-rhe Mahabharata.Greek literature as a source has almost dried up; but the father andmother of Greek literature was the Mahabharata, which contains everyform of literature known to us, and every experience that man has ex-perienced. A.E. very interestingly linked up Irish myths with storiesand legends rn the Mahabharata; and Orage, time and again, threw inideas based on Gurdjieff's teaching, bur none found an echo in A.E.He seemed to be living in a Celtic twilight, Orage in the light of thesun.

Yet A.E. lilce many real poers, like T. S. Elior and Herbert Read,was also a practical man of afhirs. He had organized the Irish farmers'

47

Notes on somc pods

co-operarive. I first met him at his house in Dubrinjust after the .ririog,or rebellion of 1916. He was kind to *"

", . .rr.ry young man. He spokeabout his fiends-George Moore, w. B. v."rJ pi'i! v*i, rr" ,lu"ahim), Bernard Shaw. I-wanted r, *rii, ,ho"Sh at that time I couldb*.ly wrire a literare legeg. He said rh"i iir tEary *irrr.Jr" *.ir" ,would wrire, but I would have to *ork

"t it, d, ;;;;;;a"r.'""tolf ry 1.r9w

lgorgelvroore worked, ,h"6;arrd;lli;t"s,H,ii",:lflrht. Moore had co*" ro r.".hi*ioJevening ab.o"li.1*U""tto drscuss a paragraph of a boolc he was writing. H;"id,;\t;*Ji."aup and down the road from ten till two in the morning, discussing backand forth how a cerain idea shouil L" ."pr.".a, bur of couri". *.covered also agood deal ofthe craft and r* o^f*iriig. a;. ;;i;. ,,sce Srskine childers and his wife who ri.,J

" few minutes away. butchilders was just going o-ut so we had not d-;;; ;"ffi;h. tffii*,after, he was arrested

"n-a *9t byhis own p.opl" i" rh;;;;;;;*

followed the rebellion. A.E. showed me ,om'e p"inengs of his fairv fork:g*Iq down the 'iVictrlow Hills in the dusi, AlF;;# rfril,faindy luaninsus. He claimed, in th. mort na*r' *"y, ,"-"Uy;il""ycltlem. Larer, I was staying in th" Aurtri"n ry-t #Ail;; ilr"Hoclrberg, who showed *" iorrr. of fi, p"i"ti"gr,

"tro oili* foU.

":T*q down at-night from th. mount"ii, ,;;?'bi,l";;t ;"clai.m:d.re.ally to have seen them. A.E. was a cert, urJ ur e"i i.laand dark blue eyes, Hochlgrq a.fair_haired, light bd*;JN;;;,almost Prussian in manner. HJad never h;;?fi ., ;, i; ;.#,touch and a correspondence began b";;;th"_. - ' -- - 1'*" uevur I

How was it that two- sudr dissimilar men in such different countrieshad similar and unusudvisions, and p.f"iJ.fmf", p;;;Jfr;;christopher Grieve, who wrote unjer the name ofHugh McDiarmid,

was oneof the younger and more vital poets ofhi, d;;. \i;;;a;;"reviewed $ po.*t n Tl,e New Engtisi wnbiyh""Jil,.il;t;i"1a rnan singrng.'

^ lylfie mecting McDiamid several times a week. He had askedc. H. Douglas and T. S. {liot to meer hinr "r,rr" "rJH"ril"-riiJrlr_rant for lunch and invited me to join ril*d I#;;;;L:#"

was to tolk about the new."ooodi"r, the bunung question of the dav.

,1iltff:#:,':#:i*,,3in1*ex."d1;;;#i,Neither McDiarmid nor I took part in th" *or"n"don, nor can Iremember the talk.McDiarmid was the only one arrong what Oragc callcd .the

shell-+8

Notes on some Poets

shocked communists' who saw clearly the cause ofthe breakdown of the

financid-economic system. I had met him when I was in the hat busi-

ness. With twoJews, he was trying to run a small publishing business

in Holborn and I, often carrying my csse of sample velour felts, wouldcall on him and together we would go to Henneky's and drink gi" *iginger ale and talk. Uis talk was always stimulating; ideas poured forthIna-totft the ideas and the gin would go to our heads and everything

would seem possible. He had been given some money t9 h"lP take the

Stone of Scone from'Westminster Abbey to Scodand. The money

went in expenses and the Stone stayed.

He suffeied from that strange disease, communism; as a youth he

was bi*en by the bug and had never really got the poison out of his

system. Like'the Red Dean of Canterbury, he was blind to the effects

of communism.He became interested in the nationalist magazine for Scodand,

started by a Jew. He and this editor came to ask Oragc for an aqttclc

on the futuri of culture in Scodand. Orage refused. 'There is no fore-

seeable future,' hc said, 'when your talented rnen, like Edwin Muirand Hugh here, have to come to London. What can you expect fromthe leavings of a nation?'

We weie fond of Christopher and his wife. They o{ien came to see

us or we would meet at Edwin and willa Muir's, who lived around

the corner in Downshire Hill. At times they were in dreadful Poverty.Once his wife came to mypublishing off,ce looking tired and worn out.

'Chris says can you help us? 'We're almost starving. I've walkcd all

the way hom Sioke NJwington because I hadn't the money for the

fare.'I fid what I could, but being a small publisher and not a hat manu-

facturer, I could hardly make ends meet. This happened more than

once. At last he took his family towhdsay in the Shedandi and tho"ghI heard from him often I never saw him again.

He was one of those rare beings in whom burns a kind of celestial

fire:some solar matter has got into their make-up. They live verymuch according to essence, and the world squints at them, while they

suffer and struggle to Put into words what they feel and think. YetHugh McDiarmid, although he had to wait-over thirty years, is nowaclcnowledged, and in his lifetime, as Scodand's greatest- poet since

Burns. It was Orage who gave him a start, n The New Engli! Weekly-

Arnold Haskell, who wrote books and articles about the ballet, was

holding forth on his pet subject to Orage and myself in thc oIFce.

49

Notes on some Poets

.o-r1g" Iistened and then said, 'yes, 1or know the literature of thebdlet-we know thc scripture,'refer.iog to Gurdjieff,s d;;. -- 'Of,Ezre Pound, OragJ said that he #as a majo-r poet; also, that he

was t\ boy scout of lireiaturc, who fid a- good died ;";t e;;; **"struggling wrirer or artist. For years he h"ad written ro;rhi Nei-,tgeTd.frt Margaret Anderson's andJane Heap's Littre Reuiewio e*.;"".He became v-ery inreresred in $cial creiit and saw *"r ,tr.r" iJ"",conained a fo*nulation of thc causes of the breakd.;

"a;;; ;*civilization and the means for r4.oi"g a new and;rr;";;";iif.;,cver.yone in the west. I pu-blished r*jefuson andlir rulssorla, i"aacreilit-an Impact; also Alfred venisJnis poems-crevet p"t"a.r'.rwell-known vcrse. In our tallcs I sometimes fo'nd it ditr"uii ro folto*him, his voice would sink to a 6int whisper; *d t *a, b.gi"oion'rohavc slight ncrve deafircss, a resulr or-y

"'ap"ti."..t rr, ,rr. ?ii;f;..

A friendship grew and a long pcriod ofirtt i-*ritiog U.g*. ;"r"*,a warm-hearted, vital **, il*"y, stimulating. ASoot"lit.o; h"was brilliandy-sane; but he became identiGef,*i iril-clrair-.crusader, and this eventually led him into difficulties.

Eric Gill had visited him in Rapaflo. Gill tord me, ,I wanrcd to dis-cuss art and literature.t"irh hi*: bg,.do you know, th" ;;;;; I;;my fo_9t in his housc hc started-talking

"borrt *orr"tary reform_no,

lo, ?ftiog, lecturing mc. I couldn'r g".t "

word in. Alr.; ,r*t_;;,ror u''cc quarters of an hour I got up and left. on riterature and"arthe's sound; but on monetary ,"6r* i b.li.o" h"', l rit" *;l

*- *

.. I, *3r true- He had got it into a crazy cornrr ofhiJbrain that Musso-,'ru' who understood a go-9d deal about thc financial system, could save

* f:'1,{::?_i:fically-if\ fad th.po*.' to ;;;; ii;;;'#.,#;;on tne rarrs in the war and the disastrous consequences for him thatfollowed.

__.I had, and still have, a warm feeling for him. He was a qood man.

Tt:y counrr'rynen martyred hi*; t time they *U i"f.l-U* "*of thcir saints.

THE PASSING OF ORAGE

ouR SMALL FrRM was regarded as one of the most progressive of the

younger publishers. e[ kinds of people came to the tiny ofrce-Dylanthoti.t,ht.ece and Gascoigne with their Poems, many young writers'

But, said Orage, 'You cannot, at this early stage, afford to be a patron

of literature.'lven well-known writers sent their work to us' Every-

thing seemed to be going smoodrly. oragc was our literary adviser and

* id friend, O[vJr Simon of the Curwen Press, gave free advice on

woosraphv and lay-out.'i"A;, .rre. sinc" the end of the first Great war in r9r8 everything

had eone well with me. For sixteen years I had had a very firll life;

*d Joly ill-health, a result of the war, and my inhe{ted and acquired

weaknesses had prevented my extracting 1ery-nuch more f"om my

opport'nitier. .lithoogh outer life wars.full and interesting there.was

i*"vt the inner ttt"gfih accompanied by suffering. Yet, outwardly Ihad not only had whail needed b-ut what I wanted. And now the wheel

of fornure b"g* to turn its dark sidc. In october 1934 I had a strong

feeling that sJmething serious was about to hap-pen-to O;agc'"VllpI did iot know. SevJral times he complained of feeling ill and of the

difficulry he had in working. I begged him to see a doctor' 'I have,'

he said."He's fiagnosed it es functional, not organic.J shall take morc

rest.' Some ttt*[" things happened at this timc. With Orage an{ rwo

men I was sitting dowr.-stain in the A.B.C. in Chanccry Lane' Orage

*", ,p."kit g toirr" of them about his writing, talking rather severelY

and he said,il speak to you as a man under scntence of death' ' ' .' Atfirst I thought iri, *., meant in general-since we are all under sen-

tence of deith. But his tone of voice gavc me to think'A few days later I was again in the A.n.C. with him-the two of us

wer" t"lkinj ov", coffee wf,en thrce men camc in, nodded to oragc and

sat down. fte said, 'I must have a word with those people' Keep my

place,' and went and sat with them. In a minute or two I glanced at

5rto

The Passing of Orage

*:f:-4 fd1f.tt"-lghtissued frorn Orage, a nimbus, not only roundrus head but around his whole form. A growing astonishment cameover me. For ten or fifteen seconds I watchid, theriturned **uy. Wi.nI looked again it was g-one, but the efFect on me remained; *a i*ro.rlntof what Gurdjieffhad said about a halo beirqg;il;dil;i"*tu"1e.1- T-o,*d

.if^y. n9opt9 and in certain chuiches. wh*"Or"g. ."*"back ro my table his 6ce had a sort of radiance of youth. I did"not seethe light aga1n. A week later we were sarurtering up Chancerv Laneor.o.ll way_ home, as we ofren did, and *.r. ,iLiig

"f ,", hi."a,and lif" at the prieur6 and work with Gurdiieq; g;;. il;."ryhe stolped, turned to me and said in

" tooJ of coriplete "o;;;;;o,'You know, I thank God every day ofmy life ,h;J#;;;j'*ilr,

reply was, '[ also.'A week later, November-5th, Orage spoke over the radio on Social

Credit. He had spent a lot oftime pr.p'"ri"g the speech *d ir *;;;;;ll.But now t{ -lgli" hepaused,

", if i"-p"i"i.we iere to h"*.;"iorJth.o.jp.:

"l YiU Dyson's apartment aft-erwards U"r."."r, p..ir*i.i ,rr.

, . T", rught, or early morning, I had a dream and in thJdream I sawh$ tace, smiling in a mass of glowing cods. I woke up and a feerins ofprofound sorrow and sadness pervaded me. Then I sLpt. a

_.T!. following-mor.mng his wife telephoned. Si. -r.;id, ,Come

up.Ics orage. He's dead!' I put down the ieceiver and, for the first aridonly time in my life, almist fainted.

one can picture the fact of a petson's death but, while they are alive,one cannot reakze it. And now, the realization of the fact tr or"n"t;uddl death almost paralysed u-s with grief, Not onlyii.r" *rt. i"a1.*,.T*r.qroups-but men and women who were not interested inGurdJleft's rdeas felt ttre tremendous shock caused by the sudden lossof Oraget presence, ttir .Ur-S.^l friend, a poet, who wrote to me,Never have I known such grief,, expressed my feelings. An ruknown

men wrote, 'I never $ey Or_age .nd t "* oot * ed"ucated ** U*Fgu*tt B p1.t I felt that h.i" w"s ,o**" who understood me.And now that he is gone I am londy.' Both simpre p;"pl.;;; iti.:G. K. Chesterton, A.E., Bernard SLaw and f. S. Etioip"ia tribri., t".9ttgl in letters to The New English Weehty. Only Eric bilt r;;;;;$If f-tcurfji;f He said] .r do notLo* *h"t stf, ;i;;;;; ;;recerved at Fontainebleau. It is certain that his deep appeite for-r"ligionwas there, in some manner, satisfied.'

J. s. collis wrore' 'The universariry, depth, and creamess ofthe mindstood alone. yet his outstanding q""liry *", good""r;. H"*]r;;;

52

The Passing of Onge

in silence bccause he did no evil. When he died, those who knew him

lost . . . their living secret standard for being good men.'

Will Dyson *d-I "tr"ng"d

everything for the frrneral. The Dean ofCanterbury, at his own suggestion, tookthe service in old r!ryste1dChurch, a'simple service,-and the church was crowded with frien&and acquaintarices. We buried his planetary Uf4y p 4: "h.g"lyq*t"

rtoo"lrl"b covers the grave, and on it is carved, by his friend Eric Gill,

the erureagram and Krishna's wor& to Arjuna:

You grieve for those for whom you should not grieve'

The wise grieve neither for the living nor the dead'

Never at any time was I not, nor thou,Nor these princes of men, nor shdl we ever cease to be'

The unreal has no being,The real never ceases to be.

I had sent a cable to Gurdjieffwho was in New York and to ftiends

there, and one to Muriel Diaper, who was in Moscow, she in whosc

house in New York the groups had met for seven years. She wto-t9:

'lVhen I returned to the hotel and saw your cable in my room I felt

I knew what was inside. I could not look at it. A quarter of an hour

went by before I could bring myself to oPen it. . . . What a disaster

for so many of us . . . 'What a strong ghost he has left!'Orage, for many younger people, wal an ideal. One must have an

ided. For Orage, britaii.F*"s the ideal, and no doubt Gurdjieffhadan iCeal-and so on.

Gurdjieff, in America, a few days after Orage's deat{-legal .fheouter and the Inner world of Man' for the third series ofhis writings.

He says that at the news of the death of Orage many people who \a{,r"o"r'koo* Orage came to him with long faces, commiserating-with

him. This o.or""tid him. He writes about pseudo-grief and the harm

it can do to people who give way to it mechanicalll because it is the

'thing to dot nc"l griefis another thing, although one-must guard

againit the manifat"iions of this, as harm can be do19 bl allgwing one-

,Jf to become identified with the grief occasioned by the loss.

Gurdjieffsaid, 'I loved Orage as a brother.'Opg-e was what G. calls

" t"*"ik"bl" or extraordinary ma": Onc who by his own efforts had

got beyond the ordinary run of men: 'He is just and indulgent to-the

i"""t".rto of others: and he depends on the resources ofhis own mind,

which he has acquired by his own efforts.'

In the weeks tiat followed I tlought a great deal about death. The

only man I could talk to seriously was Denis Saurat. He said, 'Dyrng is

53

The Passing of Orcge

much more complicated than we think. what does it mean-afterthree days Jesus_ rose from the dead? It may be that three days aftercertain people die a kind of consciousness comes to them. TLev se"their past, t\e things they ought to have done and the things they oughtnot to have done, and the things left half-done--a man becimes lir oi^judge.'

:Ihen th:y drink the waters of Lethe and forget everything,, I said.

_ 'Y::, with most people. But, if we are sufiiciently developld, if, as

Gurdjieffwou! say, we have worked on ourselves, th.n *i may're:member next time and have the possibiliry ofnot making the same'mis-takes.' He added, 'Poor Orage, why did he have to ,p.ol.o much timeand energy on monetary reform?'

. 'Perhaps it was something he had left undone,' I said. ,something

that he has now worked o.tt of the pattern ofhis life. Next time h. *iilbe higher on the spiral of his evolurion.'

'That is possible.'He began to talk about the Mortalists, a sect that Milton took a sreat

interest in, whose descendants are the christadelphians. Accordin"s tothe Mortalists when a man dies he is dead indeedl He sleeps

"s it riere

until the wr.iverse comes to an end; then the 'niverse

is-reborn andeverything repeats. When a man's time comes he is reborn. ,But,'said saurat, 'in the state of death our idea oftime does not exist becausetime is the measure of motion (what Gurdjieff call. "the lawfirl frag-mentation of some great whole") and in death there is no motioi.Therefore the intervd between death and resurrection, however lonsit may Tem to the living, does not exist for the dead; ot,

"t t..rr, oJi

as a night's sleep.'This is similar to Ouspensky's idea of recurrence-a man is bom,

lives and dies; the moment of death is the moment of birth. [t is similarto the Hindu idea of nights and days of Brahm; at the end of thc kalpaBrahm withdraws the whole of the universe into himself. He sleeis.When he wakes the universe is reborn and everfthing repears.

..Jhere is something else. Mechanical life *ori t.pJ"t, -though

withslight variations. But a relatively conscious **, i'ho becories self-consciorrs through work on himsel{, need not repeat mechanically, he

:* !" born again at the point where he left off That something whichhas been transmuted in him into higher subsrances, in whilh solarmatter has been also crystallized, is immortal in this solar system. Theto.{,:l beginning ofa soul has been formed; and this r".r"iro*.rhirrtwhich is the real'I' musr become coated again and again with a plani

54

The Passing of Qrage

tary body until it has become perfected, Then it passes. perhaps to a

phLt, "

,t"t", nearer to the Sun Absolute, where conditions arc more

favourable.*;;;ilg to Gurdjieff-and to Milton and his Mortalists-not all

,;1;;;;."rls, but th"ere are rhose who, consciously, or-unconsciously,

ir""r ".qti*il th" g"r* of a soul; and this mrt'ct be perfected'.

-r-,The Mortalist, riid, 'That which is finite and mortal ceases from the

d;';i;i;-g';;";;il the time of the resurrection" And Milton' 'Ifit l" troe thi't there is no time without motion, which Aristode illus-

;;;r"-by ;i;.*"*pl. of those who were fabled to have slept in the

temole of the heries, and who, on awakening' imagined dt"l *'-oir.", in which they awoke had succeeded without an interval the

;;;;t in which tttej'r"u asleep, how much more must intervening

,it"" i" *"iftifrt.d to th" d"p",tid, so that to them to die and be with

Ai;;;illt.em to take pl"ri "t

the same moment' ' ' ' were there no

;;;.;ir", the righteoris would be of all men the most miserable; and

ii. *i.t.a, who h"lve a better portion in this life, the most hapryi Ylith*""ii U"

"irog"th., inconsisteirt with the-jlstice of God' ' ' ' All things

are of God. Ivi"tt", proceeded incorruptible from God; and it remains

irrconuotible ", f"ri, concerns its csience' If all things ar9 lot:.nly

;;;'ail;;, oicoa, no created thing can fio"lty be annihilated.'

This is similar to some of the Sufi teaching and the Kabbalah. But

created things can be changed into different.substances'--

cor_."r"i with this is tfie idea of,transmigration which i: foui+ in

ancient religions, and which, like- everything else' has bcen the subjcct

of "11

sortsif fantasies. Gurdjieff' rn Beelzebub, sp91ks of being.born

again in the body of a one-brained or two'brained being'-tholgh.ffit

"Iold "pplv to a person who is a mainly instinctive type and instinctive-

.*otio"i'ryp". a"a a man can rccur and recur in these circumstances.

i; th; j#li religion the Pharisees believed in some sort of life *ftcr

;;"h'iht had"the idea of the 'souf :nigPgq.ftoy one body to

*oth", in its efforts to purge itself of undesirable elements and so

o.rf..t itself. In the fabbalah-is to be found the idea of transmigration';";;-a;r;d

", ho** bodied animals, vegetables, metals and.stones.

ii;J;, ,h; ia." ,h* sins in one life would have to be paid fo-r in

another life. Some said that a soul migrates through no more than *uee

b;e; " ".ty

wickeJ soul, after thiee "h*tts, or migrations' woirld

il; ; eJil spirit. tn the zohar are interpretations of passages rela-

iirn" ,o transmiglation. 'Till thou return iit tt. Biould' (G.enesis)

*.*, A", the 6'ody reruflrs to the ground; the spiriiis reborn. 'Naked

J5

The Passitrg of Orage

shall I retum thither'.(Job)-means 'to the womb'-being reborn.'.onegenerarion goeth and *odTl generarion cometh' (EccLsiasticur). ft"f.: 4": the passing away of thi generarion is mentioned nrr, i,

" pr*f

that this must have extsted before; otherwise it ought to ,."d.or,."generation cometh and another goeth'. Though muc-h of this mav bcthe wiseacreing of the- Scribes

"od ph"rir."s, yit, all through ,h; ilr;,

Hebrew teaching is the idea of metempsychosis as a reiard for thegood and punishment for the wicked, and the working out of one', o*,redemption.

In Scandinavian stories there are references to being bom aeain andthe advantages of not being re-born in this life. e a -- --

The idea oftransmigration exis* among every kind ofrace from themost primitive to those whose civilization is still regarded as high-from the Australian aborigines to the Hindus.

It is to be found in Hindu literarure in great detail, and in thc Greck.where the idea came from originally is Iost in the mists of

"ntiquirv.T id:," of such d$ry, one thai h"_s ixercised the feelings *a ,hoi,ghl,ot endless generations, even with all the distortions and-fantasies, riusthave some foundation.

The Buddhists taught a theory of eternal recurrence. The celticDluids aught that the soul does not perish at death, and after

" r,r*1.,

gf yearl passes into another body and lives again. Tuan Mac c"irill i"{re sixth cenrury remembered how he had f,ved roo years

", u **,

8o as a stag, 20 as a boar, roo as a vulture and zo as a fsh. As a fish hewas caughr, and eaten by the wife of King Cairi[ from whom he wasbonr as a child. Stories of this kind are alio found among th" w"lrh.

Appollonius of Tyana says, 'There is no death of "

th?ns .*l.oi-ioappearance; as also there is no birth of a thing,' which briig, * L".kto Gurdjieff's idea that evcrything exists and-whar see*s ,o"rr,

", ,h"

qass{rg gf ti1e. is only.'the lawful fragmentatiori of some great wholethat has its arising on the Sun Absolute'.

rnthe Mahabhardta it is related that life on this planet is in the lastand the worst of the four yugas, the Kali yuga-the ag" of fro". W.are in the last part of it and conditions *ill gi *orr" *.rtil ir comes toan end. After terrible sufferings liG once riore will become ,rr"*ui.and civilization will emerge into a Golden Aee.

Sluti says in rhe Mahabharata:'Atthe end oith" yug., all that existsin the Universe, all creared things, will be confoun?ed. A"d ;;;beginning of another Yuga all things wil be renewed and will succeedeach other like the fruits-of the

".rth io their seasons. Thus continues

S6

The Passing of Oruge

perpetually to revolve in the universe the wheel which causes the de.

struction of all things.'---C*a3i.f raid thaithe life of man is rapidly running down the scale,

but imilies that given certain efforts-by lertain people, or happenings

oo " .&*i" t"di the final catastrophe may be averted'

The idea of not being compl.t.ly "rutihilated

and the wish to con-

tinue to exist in som" i""y appeals to something very deep in many

people. During the war the thought that really terrified me leas not

ii"t'r *ight di" b.t, that if I *"r. fill.d I would cease to exist-wouldperish lik"e a dog. After the war I began to read a gre t deal about_trans-^*igr.tion

"ndi.cottence, the 'beyo1{', t studied theosophy *d Tl'

to ioiritualist meetings-and even Leld the medium's hand, yet nothing

,"tiifi.d *.; least ofJl the orthodox religious ideas and the rationalistic-

"th.irtic ideas. Only Gurdjieffin our tinie, so far as I am conccrned, has

anything reasonable to sry about what happens after death'

at*"""gtt everyone from childhood to old age thinks q f:\ almost

all the tiire coniciously or unconsciously about death (c.hildren are

fascinated yet not t.rrifi.d by the idea),'few seem to be concerned

about a fuiure existence. Then there are those comparatively few in

whom the germ of a soul has been conceived and who thereby suffer.

This Teaching, like all real Teaching, is for them'

at I h"rr" i"id, the shock of Or-age's sudden and 'ntimely

death

affected me deeply and for a long time. 'N9 man' says Donne, 'is an

Iland entire of d.lf; every man is-" p""." of the Continent,_a part of the

tut"ir,.t if a clod be washeil "way

bf the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well

as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Maruror of thy friends were' or

thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am in-

volved in Mankinde. . .'No man is an islurd, yet, in a way, we or somcthing in our essence,

is always alone and *ori b" alone, which fo not the same as loneliness.

yet when someone neaf to us goes it is truly as if a part of oneself had

gone. But time, with certain work, can heal and even increase that

which was diminished.Silesius understood that the death of the planetary body is not the

important thing that we imagine; but that:

The death whence no new lifedoth flower nor come to be

Of all deaths is the death

ftom which my soul doth flee.

I say, there is no death.

57

Tln Passing of Onge

Ifevery hour I die,Each time a better lifehas come to me thereby.

orage poured out love, and at the end of his rife he was full oflight,yet his words were weightier and fuller ofi"*iog. His knowredscan{ his beinggggthel hid brorght "ur"r""a"**"aiogl

Nrvwruss'

^ # t":"1Gurdjieffretumed iom America I went toiee him at th":T".f:_i lT,T{ Tqk. esreet deat about orage. curdjietrtistenedand there appeared h S "y:r-"

look of deep comlassion ti"t oo" ,"*at certain times. He said, and later repeated?o othor, .Or"e";li;o,have diedjusrlgy. only an F**ffi;;il;;;; JJ."il;;;1tn";.p,

an -bnglishman. Now I must work hard for thre. *or" vi"rs todo-what only Qrage could have done for me had he lived.' r - --

r . r'h$ was to shock us, though it is possible that if Orage had eone to*T *d- spoken about his state Gurdjieff would have- been

""b1" ,oprolong his liG.

HERALD OF COMING GOOD

oN oNB oF My vlsrrs to Gurdiieff he gave me a copy of his booklet

Herald of Coming Gooil to tJad, .nJ asked me if I could frnd a

publishci for it t England. I said that I doubted yry To:h il*yLookseller or publishei would take it as there would be litde, if any

profit in it, brit that I could handle it for him in Eng1and' Those who

i"lt ,o*"thing would pay for it. 'Send ir to anyone who is intercsted inmy ideas,'hJsaid. I

"sl.a, 'To Ouspensky's prlil: too?' He thought

for a moment and then said, 'Yes, to them as well.'In London, with Elizabeth Gordon, who spent most of her time at

the prieur6 and helped Gurdjieff, I scnt out thC co_pies. llhe silence of its

reception *", "1*3rt

d""fbiiog. Later, we hearJ that Ouspensky haii*t^*t.d all his pupils to h"ni'in their copies, which were_destroyed.

'Why did he l*it" itt Some say toshockbuspensky' But things al Feprieuiwere at a low ebb. Gurdjiefl, like us, andperhaps like everything

io ,h" *io"rse, had periods rnih.n th" force eipended on-a.phase ofwork had co*" to *lnt"rval, a'mi' or a'si'. At these periods he would

make an effort to do something and in a comparativ"h big y-"y'Perhaps he had made the effottt write and have printed I!*:l( tConiis Gooil. to set over an interval; and he had spent a good deal of*oo"i or, it.

i11. tike, then take'. 'when I do anything I always do a lotof it'.'Like Nature, Le sometimes produced an cnormous amount ofsec& so that onc might grow, t"yitig that efort in pursuit of a real aim

is never wasted.I suspect that one of the reasons why Gurdjieff lad-wa3gd to see

Orage'the year before was to have him read over the English o*l"-tion"of Hiratd of Conrng Good befote it w1s printed, t: .Y"ll-"tthe manuscript of Beelztrbub's Tales and Tales of Remarkable Men

on which he was still working.Heralil of Coning Good isl booklct of ninety pages, small qo".tto'

with a topit.-*tiry title, 'First Appeal to Contemporary Humanity''

59

Htalil of Coming Good

At the end are seven registration blanks. It begins with an introductionof three sentences, the first sentence running to some two hundred andsevenry wor$. He anaounces the booklet-as the ntrt oru, p"utirt"awritings, and leaves the purchaser to pay from g to rog Frenlh francs.It is written in the form of an epistle, headed:

Tuesday r3th September rg32CafE de la Paix

Paris.

. The long, -almost

interminable, sentences make it dilficult to read,let alone understand. orage's editing would h""" ir6;;;;J ;;;;r_l9uslr; bur even in its rough, uo.ulfor- truth glowl rh;;ilJii"following is a summary.

" H. :yr that he proposes to begin on this day an e4position of tJre

y$:t.seyen.appgals to_hrtmaniry. Among rhe reasons for doins so isthat rr ts the last day of the period he assigned to himself tw.ri_orr"years.betore, Irl"g which, by a special oath,-.I bound myself in myconscience to lead in some ways an-artificial life modelled;; ;;;;-gramme which had been previously planned in accordan." ;;rh ;i;definitc prin{pl9sr'He c6ruiders ii iris dury to ser down th" *oJ*,wbrch compelled him to lead such an aftificiar rife, pranned accordins.- {fdl"-pri"ciples for the non-narur"l or non_habfi J;;;;;il;:ot himself. {y- rhir means he would prevent ro a certain degree theformation of that something called by King Solom;-T;;i;;;.This Tzvarharno is rhe som.thiog *hi"h ror*"r itr.ruy

" ";rJ;;,in the common life ofpeople "J* o.rt"o*" of th"lrir *dr?;ht,co,rnmon life, and which liads to the debtruction of him *rro oi* aachieve.lgmgthing for general human welfue and of Al A"t i" fr",accomplished.

He-says that he wished to co'nteract in the manifestations of peoplean inherent trait embedded in their psyche which was ;;t;r;.[?the fulfillment of his aim and which

"ro*"r in them .*h;.;;fi;;;

lnth morg or less prominent people, tle function of th" fr.li"n oi*-slavement', or, as .we might say, a feeling of inferiority and"fear ofdoinq an{ r"ytngthe *o-"g thing-and ihis p"r"lyses ib, ;;a;;:Tiijl Jbr

llmfestinS that persJnal initiativi which t" p"J"J..ry

needed ur people.

99 red{mretled to give a briefoutline ofrhe causes ofthis i*esistibleld"i"S ofhis, which was 'to understand 4:lrh the precise ,tgffi;;;in gencral of the life processes on earth of dl off*ar? ar*, irrr""rt-

6o

Herald of Coning Gooil

ing creatures; and in particular the aim of human liG in the light ofthis inteqpretation'.

'lhe -ajority of people,' he says, 'have never . . . in thc period oftheir resporsible frfe . . . laid themselves open to e4perience but have

contented themselves with other people's fantasies, forming thcm fromillusory conceptions, and, at thc same time, limiting thenselves tointercourse with those like them;' also they have automatized them-selves to a point of engaging in authoritative discussions of all kinds ofseemingly scientific, but for the most part abstract, themes.

Although he too was a product of an abnormal environment likeothers yet, thanks to his father and his first tutor he possessed data whichpermitted the developmcnt in him of 'certain original and inherenttraits', and of this peculiar trait: 'of striving to understand the veryessence ofany object out ofthe ordinary that attracted his attention',which gradually formed a 'something' which engendered in him thisirrepressible striving. Always he tried to meet thosc who would eitherexplain, or help him to discover, the questions that left him no peace.

Eventually, in 1892, he came to the conclusion that it was impossiblefor him to find an answer among his contemporaries, so he decided

to retire for a definite period into complete isolation and to endeavourby means of active refection to attain this himself, or to drink out some

new ways for his researches.

He became in his inner life, a slave of his aim, which had beeninstilled in him by the will of fate. Stimulated by this and later by his

own consciousness he continued his search.

Thii sclf-stimulation was caused as a result of his experiencing in allhis being a feeling of 'self-satisfaction' and 'pride' every time hc verifiedmore and more new facts about the lives ofpeoplc in general: of whichfacts never had hc found a single hint either in ordinary life or in all thcliterature, past and present, that he had reld.

Although he himself was endowed with unusual powers of com-prehension, and was able to get people to tell him about their irunostsacred airns, and. also was able to investigate all kinds of religious,mysticd, philosophical and occult societies, inaccessible to ordinarypeople, he did not succeed in elucidating the answers to his questions.Nevertheless he never lost hope that somewhere and at some time hewould meet people who would show hirqthe way, at least to the keyof the door. All this time he supported himself by working at variouscrafts and professions, often changing them in order to rcehzehis inneraim.

6't

Heralil of Coming Good

In centrd Asia he became friendly with a street barber throughwhom he was able to enter a Mahommedan monastery. Following atalk with some of the brothers about'the nature and qualiry of hunian

$th, and thc- consequences of the action of its imprilses on man' hebecame convinced that he must abide by his deciiion and profit bythis-opportunity in the monasrery.

The same evening he put himself in the necessary state and begansgrengly ro medirate on his situation and futtrre

"ot do"t; after th"ree

days he became convinced that the answers could be found in 'man'ssubconscious menrarion'. It followed from this, that he must perfecthis.knowledge of man's psyche in every way. He left the ,ooi"rr"ryand a-gain took to wandeiing, and a plan'forrned in his mind. He beganto colled all the written and oral information he could among ."rr""ioAsiatic peoples about that 'branch ofscience, highly developed ii ancienttimes, called MElrr(ENESS-the "taking-"*.-y-oGorporisibility", andofwhi:.tr contemporary civilization knoris only an insigoifi"*t poidoocalled "hnnotism".'

He then setded in a Dervish monastery in Central Asia, and fortwo years sydipd ,h: $:"ry. Then, for practical study he gave himselfout to be a healer of all kinds of vices; this he continued for about fiveyearc'in accorilance with the essential oath imposed by *y tash, whichconsisteil in giving conscieilious aiil to x.tferers, in tuver usin| my knowleilgeand praaical powers in that domain of iience except for thi ,oi, of nv fn_vestigations, and neuer for.personal inil egoistkal'eids'; and h. iot'oolygrived at unprecedented practical results without equal in our davbut elucidated

"l*ost "rr.rythiog necessary fb, hi;;li. - -- --- --i,

- He discovered, among-other thiogs, thai the complete elucidation ofthe study of man's psyche must bi sought for not only in the sub-conscious but also in the manifesations of hi, w"ki"g ,t"t... After agr:at ded of travelling in Asia, and in meetiigs with remark_

able men (which he has recoided in the Second Se?es), and afternumerous e4periments, and working with various societies, he decidedthat, since in such societies there-are usually only three or four types,and that for thc observation of the manifestarions of man's pry"lri i"his waking state it rvas necessary for him to have ,"pr.r.rrt"tijrres of allthe.r'wenry-eight types existing on earth as they #ere established inancient times, he would form an organization of itis own on quite newprinciples. out of rhis, after * erior*oos amo'nr of hard'work inMoscow, Tifis and Constantinople, there emerged the Institute forthe llarmonious Development oi Man in the cfrateau du prieur6 at

6z

Hualil of Coming Good

Fontainebleau. He quotes from the original programme of the Insti-tute; and then goes on to describe how he was preparing four scenarios,

one ofwhich was The Three Brothus based on the working of the three

centres. Later he speaks about his decision to write Beelzebub's Tahs

and his idea of publishing this. The Second Series, at first, was to be

read only in groups, and the Third Series to be read only by those

pupils who had worked on themselves and arrived at a certain degree

of underrt"nding and attained a certain definite degree of Being.

He says, very seriously, that Beelzebub's Tabs to his Grandsott must

be read hom the beginning through; otherwise people who are in the

habit of running through a book, skipping and picking out bits here

and there, will come a real psychologhal hmn-libe the'brilliant' intelbc'tuals who'can tun through o toig boo? in an hour anl epen repeat patts ofitand write' informatiue' aiticles about it, but who, as far ds UMERS T/ND-ING goes, are'illiterate'.

Thire were .rwo di.fferent categories of people who had worked withhim-those who had begun to work and then had left him and'startedup on their own', and those who had remained with him even when*tey n"a been compelled to live in other countries. From those near tohim he decided to choose a number who would be leaders of groups

and to whom the second and third series would be given.

Amongst other things they must satisfy him that they had in them

the following five data:

r. If he, (Gurdjieff) had established after an all-round observation thatthey had in iheir individuality, since preparetory tge, certain definitestarting points for a more or less meritorious life in responsible age.

z. If n their being there were not completely atrophied a generally

inherited predisposition for the developing in their individualiryof factors Uti"ging forth the impulses oJ organic shame, religious-ness, patriarchaliry, the awareness of one's rnortality, and so on.

3. If the=re was an hereditary predisposition which would bring about

. thc conscious eradication of previously rooted weaknesses in theirindividuality; weaknesses such as are caused by abnormal surrorurd-

irgr.a. If they already gave evidence of having had suitable established

conditions of oidinary life and had acquired the possibility ofattaining, according to certain principles, some definite perspcctives

for the future.5. If there were present in them a &stinct degree of awareness of their

63

Haald of Coming Good

:5_::Pf:rs',,and the possibiliry of attaining the necessaryquaury ot a real wish to transform themserves frorrisuch 'nothing-ness'inro the definitc .somerhing' *fri"f, ,h"y;;;h;;; ;;.;""accotding to their own tranquillf-*"dit"t J ria"t;"*Jigl* "'

-He -spealss about his autometic infuence over peopre, and his con-

sciously cre-ared aim of always, without exception, manifesdng himselfbenevolendy rowards ".,"ryoo"

r., tr"ii !.JJ,;til;il:il; o*"waging an unceasing struggle against th-" we"lrrresre, ir,rr.r*, irlii,orierl nature. But, whire maniGstingtimselfwith this inne. u"o"*t*".,*r**::.1 y,"r to decryrtlfize *. ar."ay 6;;"il#;;ryand conceit in oeoole; and this made enemies for him. people f"rg",what hc had done^fo, th.* *d ;;;'.; .+, ;:,; il",J#-ryH::"yri The fundamental cause

"i A-rri "ff

,h;;;;;r;;;g,arising in the inner world of man, as well as in the prr.""li?":o--T{ life of people, is chiefy that psychic flc ;hdl,6""arn mans berng during the period of preparatory ege exclusivelv onacc:uqr o{a

.wrong e.ducation, and in ^the'period'oi;;r;il;l;;r";

eacn strmurahon ot which gives birth in him to the impulses of viriryand SelFConceir. 'I ""t"giri."tty afirm' fr"

"a4r, A;*il ilp;l;,

and self-consciousness wf,ich rtt"ua be in a real man, as weil as in ape_acefirl communal existence between peopl" (.sid, from th;;;;other causes which existin-our li".r'*r;;gL oo a,rti J"*

"*r.ldepends in mosr cases exclusively on the "br.i." io o, ortr. a"rirrf ,rVaniry!'

--He sincerely wishes that every-one who strives tojusti$ bef6rc Great

lviT* his destiny-as a nmn and not merely as an animal, should seern ms w'Fngs and in the groups formed by him, means ofhelpins manto eradicate from his com*6n presence'tha, ,;;.rbh;;;*fii.fiffi,Jn*

gives rise to everyiariery of the r""fr"g,3r"*ry *aB f,"tnor", amo_ng othet things, was to make his readers ,understand

Tlrc dearly thg red significance of the presence in man,s inner world:t ta:lors .g"Tl"l5 to a conscious, or even automaric, cultivation ofg-":1t*.pqes idealized and professed by all religious docrines, ;ht;nave exrsted and still exist on Earth, as well as by the real moralirywhich the ages have formed in man's liG.;

-From the time he srarted on the book until he finished it he put into

ti?i::_lTi"l9y:andwithaconstanr'setf-derisiodi;i;;i.1fi ;,pnuosophicd principle known ro men for centuries.'e""otdirig io64

Herald of Coning Gooa

which principle our ancestors, and even some contemPorary people

thanks io their good life, attained a certain degree of selGconsciousness

and dedicatea a thira of each year of their life to the aim of self-

perfection, or, as they say, for 'saving their souls'-- This religious philosophical principle could be formulated thus: 'To-

be-patient-tiwarils-every-being-and'n9t-to'attenpt-by'the'possibilities'in-ow'poiu-to-aher-the-conseguences-of'the-evil'ileeds-of'our-neig-hb-oun'..

-' At the same time, to fat

"s his depleted energy would allow him, he

rcmembered his task of manifesting irurer benevolence to those whocame in contact with him, and under a mask of irritation 'To-quanel-

ruthlessly-with-dll-manifestations'decldred-in-people'by-the'euil-faaors-of'wnity-present-irtheir-being'.

-He refers to us as unfortunate creatures who because of our lack of

will power and of objective reason have become' on account of our

abnoimal environment, almost simple and automatically vegetating

animals; whereas we should be real God-like crearules capable ofentering into and understanding the position of others.

He riade a discovery, astonishing in that it completely contradicts thc

usual idea-this discovery was'Tltat the force anil degree of a man's iwurbeneuolence evokes in others a ptoportionate ilegree ofill-will'.

He speaks about the events that led to the establishing of thc Institurc

at Fonlainebleau and describes the three categories ofpupils:

r. Those who sincerely wished to work on an all round develoPment

of themselves according to the Method, and also, to stuily the

theory;z. Those who wished to study the theory of the system and to be cured

of some complaint or other, by the methods of the Institute, and

3. Those yho iame to attend the lectures and study a special sub-

ject.

He proposed to divide the pupils olthe fglt- categgq into thre.e

gtoopr-, Eioteric, Mesoteric, Esoteric. All woYli begin 1n

the Exoteric

froui "nd "ccording to their personal merit and-degree ofunderstandir-tS

iriehi p"s into thJ Mesoteric grouP. And of these, according to the

*Jrk *d efforts they made and the degree of being and understanding

which they arrived at, might pass into the Esoteric group-which is

verv hish indeed.

ift.r"ootlirrir,g the general work of the Institute he says that par-

dcular attention will be paid to those Persons who show certain patho-

logical symptoms, such as weakness ofwill, wilfirlness, apathy, lazines,65

I:Ieralil of Coning Gooil

unreasonable fears, continual fatigue, irritabiriry, irregular cxchange ofsubstances, abuse of alcohol or nlrcotics, *d - orr.'-

He mentions his accidcnt in J"ly 1924, whose effects caused him tolevfw 3U

his p1s3 activities *i to fiquiJate tn", pi"r" "i*. *"ril "ftne rnstrtute- qd 9"ry:t-new lines. Later, when he was well enoughto_go to Paris, he 'hobbled'with two or three others, ,o r..

" n o."tt.a

The Two Brothcrs. Revolted by the senseless 6shionablc aiJ-oirt"screen' acceptable only because of the herd-instinct *a ,rr. l*.r"rhypnotic process, he wlnt to the cafE de ra paix and u"g* r" *3* ;*a scenario which he would call The Three Brotheri, b"r.d oo th"functions of the three centres. After working on this'for s;;;-l;.,.nd 1 a result of it, there came ro him, fronithc *"-rry,il"g**heard in childhood about the first human b.r"gt or

""rth, **li*

"rwriting a b_ook with Beelzebub, who was a wiiess of all ,jror. ,.roor.cvcnts, as the principal hero.

. Rrgrdi"-g the third series of his writings, he says that acquainranceis qermittej onlylo those who have a thoiough d.;i.dg" il;;;,and second, and have begun to manifest themselves

"nJreact to thcmanifestarions of others in accordance vrirh his t"""hir,!r. H" ;;;,froy whg

T"y..b" interested in his ideas never to read hii Uookr.*".ptm rne order rndicatc4 never to read his later works until they

"r" *i[

acquaintcd with the earlier oncs. If the books are not read io tir" "oo.",sequence, undesirable phenomena

-may arise in people which ev.n'ryght paralyse for ever the posibility of normal i"np.rf."i.".,-'-IIe mentions an-experimeni he was making, so that, ii rh" **i.Aono1*. -Ty.people who have met hirn on the ground ofhis ideas, but

y-1. pT.rl" m,vegelating on earrh, and on whom he had spent muchume wrrhout benefit to them or to himself--chiefy on iccount oftheir criminal laziness-there might ,n r ro,., ,t orU il irt-it*iit *y:!- y_:y!t_the fornation ly *ril (even automatiurltyi ,i,"", irriritTIIINI(ING AjllID FEELING proja tu man.

,fte.concludgs by appealing toihorc who have worhed with him andwho havc in thcir individualiry that fceling of 'self-revaluadon'whichhas given-them something thai ordinary oi* do", ";r6;;il;;have in themselves the riecesary a"t", *i* rh. h;b?h;;e;.tI.;e4planations, for entering onjr. path ieading to Re"i B"id. il;ilthem to devote themselies for a'definit. plrioa_Uv ;fi;--il;ideas-to h9lnins the sons of our Commo" i"rt * *i; Itfll*;i;to"y*: *1!q as they do in their inner world, .ll p";;;;*;;;;regard to obiective truth.

6

Herald of C,oning Good

To those who are offended with him hc says: Believe me, during thewhole period of my relation with you, my inner world never-har-boured either egotistical or altruistic impulses; there existed always andin everything, only the simple wish to prepare in all perfection forfuture generations the science of objeafue truth of reality.

67

7

THE LAST VISITTO THE INSTITUTE

FOR THE HARMONIOUSDEVELOPMENT OF MAN

wE HAD HEARD from the Hartmanns. They had lelt the prieurd andwere living in Courbevoie, ourside paris. ihey rrrgg.rr.d ;;;;;;gto France,so that my wife could study music;d;irlr. de Hartmann,Td TJuly,we went to Fr-ance,_a1d lodged in a smdl pension in St.cloud. 'we had many meals with the Haitm.rurs and toolc rons warkstogether.in the country l#i"g about many ,h*r, A"-rA["Al,,1y,loming back to Grt$i.{ Haitmlnn had reachejrt. ,"*. rr"g.

",9t"q:' and Gurdjieff had made things exrremely difficurt fb;'hi-.Gurdjieffhad seen thatit was time for frartmann,J*"k;";*g. Lato stand on his own feet; but Hartmann, afier so many years iod ,oSany experiences, having gor so much from Gurdjiee r"rira it almostimposible to make the bieak.-curdjieffthen pot io ,""t pr.rror" ilr"tY"tT.t*- was compelled to choosel it had been r,r.h

" p"irrfirl oro..r,that tor aJong time he

-could nor speak calmly about it,-and .oild ,ro,

even speak of Gurdjieffby name.'You-see,'he said, 'apart fr-om the teaching, he saved my life when I

got typhus in the Causiasus.''Whol'I asked.

. F" 1.il:4, 'He whom we all know.' He continued, ,you see how

difficult it has been to make a break. Now I rh"ll .orr.*t ;;;;;yown music; and I have begun to work on an opera among o*.,,lri"tr.'Later in the summer he went to northern FrLce to wirk with sJme

. monks harmonizing Gregorian chant.

- As soon as I could, after we arrived in St. Cloud, I went to the CafEde la Paix to see Gurdjietr

{{g w3s sitting outside, no longer writing,but observing the people whire &in-king".otr.. ;fr.r;il;';iffi.

68

The Last uisit to the Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man

I asked if I might go to the Prieur6. Hc said, 'You come tomorrow,'and I accordingly found myself there the next day. As always onarriving there the first thing I did was to walk round. The gardens wereneglected, the orangery in ruins, the Study House deserted-some ofthe precious carpets had been damaged by rats and mice. The piles ofstone that we had made years before still lay alongside the traclc throughthe forest. The Stjoernvals and the Salzmanns were still therc and

Gurdjieff's own people, and there were three young American menand a German or two. Miss Gordon was the only English Person.Gurdjieff's mother and wife had died and were buried in Avon church-yard. The Prieur6 fclt as if it were running down, or rather as if thisphase of its long and varied experiences was coming to an end; yet inthe Chiteau itself,, which was three quarters empt!, preparations wcrebeing made for work the following year. In spite of thc depression andlack of money a number of Americans were planning to come over.Sdzmann was painting the doors in the Monk's Corridor and on thelintel of each the words 'in memento mori'. ''What is this for?'I asked.

He said, 'Georgivanitch is planning work on a big scalc next year; and

this is to remind people of their mortaliry a reminder of the fact ofdeath; you know that tn Beelzebub he says that only the constantawareness and the realization that some day they must die can destroythe vanity *4 r.lf-pride that prevents their irurer development.'

Iwent upstairs to Cow Alley, where I usually had a room, knockingat doors to find someone to talk to, but the rooms which once vrere

full of people were unoccupied. At last a voice in Russian replied tomy knock, 'Mohzna'--<ome in; it was Rachmalevitch-an unusual

character even for the Prieuri. AJew, he was said to have been one ofthe cleverest lawyers in Rrissia. He had met Gurdjieffin Moscow and

had lent him his apartment, and at the revolution had followed himto France. He gave up his law practice and, when not living at thePrieurd made a living by peddling things from door to door or worlcingin a road gang-as some Hindus give up their profession or businosand set out with a begging bowl and attach themselves to a temple.After some talk in halting French-he spoke no English-I said, 'Tellme, what have you got from these ideas in the years you've been work-ing with Georgivanitch?' He replied, 'Before I met him I never even

knew what sort of soup I wanted, but now I do know what 'soup' Iwish; but as for Heptaparaparshinokh and Triamazikatnno' I knownothing.'

69

The Last uisit to the Institute for the Harmonious Development of Mdn

I suggested to Gurdjieff that_ we do sorne work in the neglectedgalten, so he bought some implements and seeds at the'quincillerie'in Fontainebleau and put mg.rnlharge of the five youngimar. Theyworked hard while I was with them but when I had to io into paristhey stopped work-just sar about and discussed

,high idJas'.

Gurdjieffinvit:4 p. to bring my family "nd

sta! for the summer,and nothing-would have pleased toi *or"'bot *y wife was getting somuch benefit from Hartmann's teaching that we .o*proriir"d LdI spent half the time ar Fontaineblea.t *d hnlf

"t St. Cloud.

Gurdjieffwas in a srare of suffering. He has described it and the causein the Third series. while g"\i"g effotts to srarr work on a large scalethe following year he was all the time beset by dificulties-and"mon"ywas needed to save the Prieur6, as the mortgagors were now pressingfor payment.

He took me about in his car, often to paris, together with a Russianworran. He was now dressed in a shoddy ready-made brown suit andcloth-cap. When we stopped at a caf6,instead of talking *.lioki"g, h"sat silent or answered with a word or two. 'We, th"-*ori* "ii t,could feel his state of inner suffering. Like us he had his 'good' davsand 'bad' days, runs of good luck anl runs of bad luck: [kI.rn.*ori"he had to bear his share of thc weight of world ,ont rirrg; *i ,h"bigger fr: **! thc bigger the burden; the stronger thJ'man thestronger the suffering.

some Russians from Paris made frequent visits to the prieur6; hewould often shout and- storm at them. They asked me why he didso, and I said, 'Why don't you ask him?' But even whd he wasshouting at them I could sense that inside he was quite cdm. He wastrying to get them to see something; and I, whatever mood he hap-p_ened to be in, as always was stimulated, more conscious, moiealive.

He asked me if the English would be offended because of what hehad written about them in Beelzebub, and I said, 'rhey wifl eitheragree or just ignore it. The English are more tolerant of criticism and ,

ofnew ideas than Europeans. orage says that the English are thc bestand most intelligent peJple on the planet. I agree witlihim, but this isa grave reflection on the rest of thJhuman ri'ce.'

_'Tlg English have irurer swagger,' said Gurdjiefl ,pity about the

T"glirtt. They have the best buiter and best mi"t in the world, butthgl export it and live on margarine and Australian frozen *urroo.The English are sheep, Russians irows, Americans burros.'

7o

The l.ast viit to the Institute for the Harmonious Developmettt of Man

He told me that he needed money and that a man was coming fromParis who might give another mortgage on the Prieur6. Thc financicr

came to lunclr, where conversation was general. Afterwards, Gurdjiefftook him with Stjoernval and myself to a raised banlc behind the

orangery; Persian carpets and cushions were spread, and we sat in brighthot r-onihiri" drinking coffee, while Gurdjieff spoke of the value and

possibilities of the Prieur6. Then we walked rolrnd the gr9y"it,--jis we walked the face of the financier became blanlcer; fi""lly he left,

promising to write after he hadconsulted his partrers. But as I went toih. g"t" with him he muttered, 'Impossible, pas possible!' With thc

resuli that the Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man at

Fontainebleau-Avon was sold the following spring and all its contents

auctioned; and a large suitcase full of Gurdjieff's precious music inmanuscript, written and harmonized by Hartmann, was rescued at the

last minute by one of the women.Although I received little direct teaching from Gurdjieffthis summer,

as usual I leamt a good deal; to be with him was always a vital experi-

ence-one le"mt without being taught-just by being with him and

remembering oneself and observing oneself,, Again it was impressed on

me that ifyou start on a course of action you must Persevere and pursue

it and extract everything you can from it even when it seems useless. Butwhen events are too strong or when its usc as a means of effort has

passed, then cut loose at once. It is the effort, the corucious labour that

looo$; it can help essence to grow and increase consciousness, will and

individualiry.Tho"gh ".'*tt

*.t" against Guriljieff and his exterior life seemed

be riruring down thi scale, on- a descending octave' his inner

was on an ascending octave; for he made use of every circum-tolifestance and event to inciease his being and thereby his undentand-

ing.Exploring the house one day, poking my nose into corners, I came

""rori " ca6io.t, and opening the drawers found some sheets of paper

with forgotten sayings ofJesus translated in r889.

'ThosC who would see me and reach my Kingdom must attain me

with pain and [conscious] suffering.''gimindfulbf Conscious Faith and Conscious Hope through which

is born the Conscious Love of God and man that gives eternal life.'When Jesus was asked when his Kingdom would come, he said:

'When two shall be as one, and the without as the within, and the male

with the female neither male nor female.'

The Last uisit to the Institute for the Harmonious Deueropment of Man'Keep that which you have and it shall be increased.,'I am come to end rhe sacrifice and ifyou do not cease from sacrificing

the wrath shall not cease from you.'

. Fyor do not make the berow into rhe above, and the above into the!dg*, the rightinto the left and the reft into *. ,igti, ,h"-b"f";""i".the behind and the behind into the before yoo shalinor;;;;;.;"Kingdom of God!'

Just lefore leaving at the end of the summer I warked ro'nd thegrounds impresing everything on my memory_th" g"rd*r, th"forest where I had fourd what For *. *", " sprini,fU"i"!*""r, *"study House, rhe barns, the ch6teau. I fert that trir, *", *ir*ir,iliir"

the Institute for the Harmonious Develop*;;a'* ;;il;;ilr.of Gurdjiefftprieuri, and I made * i"t r.rtirrjil;.d;;.fr;l:",",1-J:"{.

Gurdjieffonce said, .you "re

id.oifi"ed *r* pf"..i iir"J. *rdentrtued with people.' F9IT"4y, on an occasioo lik. *i, r *oJaT*"suffered at the.thou.ght-of ,the

last time,; emotions would t "rr.

*r*afp in me, as they did in Harpenden rwenty y."r, b"d",-*ir."ii.nlom: ro go to'-fasmania and said goodbye to the old house. Now. I6;,1d yr"{ going rowrd with imost'.o*plo" ;;#;;;, ;;whrre refrecring rhar, in a-few months this prace where r h"d hJ,"many vital experiences Td *S,o **yp"Jpb with wi"rn;;;,a bond sronger-even than family, *o,ia i"r" gorr" *d

".royorr"connected with the place.How futile it is to be attached to, identified with houses and landand all the things pertaining to the planetary b.&-;h;tlf,"Gf,

necessary, are ephemerdThe lrutitute as an organization was coming to an end, but the re-

sults ofthe worlc that the pupils had done oo th".*r.Lr", ;ffi;;.,So

with everything we do,-all our pasr acts. The p*, i, joJ, *?"nave.topry tor every unconscious evil action; also, we can re*n meritacqrured tlrough cvery conscious action.

Every incident of that suulmer with Gurdjieff and Hartmann is:t:"T,:l^:"

my memory though some of ,r.i,.r"r"-.ff".rJl"ryyears later.

^ It,yl not long until, of the four men who were alwaw with

Gurd;reft when I was at the prieurd_sqjoernval, Orage, Sd"*lr_ *jl{ytmann only Hartmann was left; *i h. never saw Gurdiieffasain.Jarzmann had died, Stioernval died about this time. Gurdjiefr,s _Jth.,and brother had died.-The prieurd *"r;;;;;;, ,h" g-;p;;;;;;

72

Tlu Last uisit to thc In*itute for tlrc Harmonious Deuelopmefi of Man

was scattered, my tiny group in London was only a smdl spark.Gurdjieff's work seemed already to have come to an end. Yet he con-tinued, no longer at the Prieur6 but at the CalE de la Paix and hisapartment in Paris-symbolically, on the planet Mars. 'The highestmeaning contained in the sign of Mars-one which extends beyondAlchemy itsel{, is dre measure of the Divine 'Word, the struggle be-rween the positive and negative forces'.

Prieuri

73

TALKS WITH GURDJIEFF

Talles with Gwdjief

After lunch I again asked him ifl could read it and he still said nothing,and went to his room. I waited and then said to Solita Solano, whowas his secretary at that time, 'Will you go and ask Mr. Gurdjieffif Imay rcad "Skridloff"?' She went to his room, came back and reported,'He says you're drunk.' 'I may have had a good ded of armagnac butI'm not drunlq' I rqrlied, ' t feel a special need to read "Skridloff",please ask him again if I may read it; I'm returning to London in a dayor two and may not be back for some weeks.' She went out again and

in a few minutes came back with the typescript.Stimulated by the talk at lunch, warmed by the armagnac, the

story made a deep impression on me, especially when Father Giovannitells Gurdjieffand Skridloffabout the two very old men, Brother Ahland Brother Seze, who visit them from time to time and preach to thcBrothers of the Monastery. He tells thcm that when Brother Seze

spcaks it is as if one were listening to the songs of birds of Paradise.

When Brother Ahl speaks his words havc a contrary action. He speaks

badly, his words are hard to follow, no doubt because of his great age.

But, though the sermons of Brother Seze at the time produce such a

strong impression, this impression gradudly fades, until nothing re-mains. As for Brother Ahl, his words at first make almost no imprcssion;but in timc the esscnce of his discourse pcnetrates to the depths of theheart where it remains for ever.

Ouspensky and GurdjieffThere is some very moving music, composed by Gurdjiefffor the

reading of 'Skridloff'.The following day at lunch I remembered some questions I wished

to ask Gurdjieffand made attempts to do so but each time he put meoff At last I said" 'Do you think I've changed in the last few years?',

hoping of course, that he would say I had changed for the better.All he said was, 'Cha'ged by age.' .'Is that all?''You are still egotist.''I'm not sure of myself any longer.'He began to speak about something, nodding at me, but I could not

follow him. Then hc said, 'He is happy man bccause he does not undcr-stand what I say, so does not suffer.' At that I burst out with deep

feeling: 'I know that I am nothing and that I understand nothing.'Dejeaed I sat back with a realization of my own emptiness. He started

to talk to Miss Gordon, then looked at me, smiled and said, 'Youknow, necessary sometimcs to stic.k peacocks' feathen in certain place,'

75

8

ar cunDJlBFF s ApARTnrlNr oNE DAy, while waiting for lunch I noticedseveral women whom I had not met before, o-bviously American.After a time we went in and sat at the table waiting for'Gurdjiefftocome in; I was the only man. No one spoke, everyo-r" *", ill it eas",and a tension began to grow. At last_Gurdjieffcame in and, noticingthe tension, loolced round and said, 'whai! No one spe"ki Is this amausoleum? It's like when you sit on special seat and oo-thiog happen!'Everyonc burst out laughing and thc t-ension disappeared. " r I

The wornen were thelcind who at that time proiiucedinmeafeelingof hostility-the intcllectual and businetr ryp"l They were unmarrieland

ryere working with Gurdjieffin a smaltgtoop. ri.rt t found that he*,"t fgyg.r-o3. ::ry interesting teaching *ith-ttt.* and one day tasked him if I could work with this group. He said, .No.,

'Why?'I asked.'Not for you, not-for men. These special rype.'There was no other regular groui itt pa;s at this time. and he

worked with them for several y*r *d performed one ofhis miracles.Hc.changed- their inner life, so that from rather arrogant intelleaualsand successful business.types, as some of them ,""*.jto me, they be-came warm understanding human beings. Katharine Hulme, MargarctAnderson and Solia Solano were in this group.

I wanted to read the chapter called 'professor skridlof in the Secondscries which Gurdjieffhad just finished and s'hich I had sot scraps of,When I went ro the apartment one day he left me by iryself in thestore room' then he brought in-a pile of detective stories, and put themo_n the table and said, 'You wish iead something perhaps?' I iooked atthem and said, 'Yes, but not detective stories, I catle to sie ifyou wouldlet me read the Second Series, "professor Skridloff,'., He said nothingand went out.

Tallu with Gurdjief

fuointing to his tail), 'and' (getting up) 'walk, nor so' (stepping in anapologetic manner) 'but so,'-*d he strutted round wagging hir latg"behind. Everyone, including mysel{ laughed.

He sat down and began to talk to me. Again I could not follow, andhe said to the others, 'I tell him something, but he not understand.Next week h9 bcgin to think. Next month or next year, two years,firre years, he begin to understand somerhing.' All I could get then wasthat having realized one's nothingness one must not givJway to de-spondency, but suffer real remorse of conscience. Regrets and self-reproach waste energy, remorse ofconscience helps, in some mysteriousway, t9 repair the past. Also that onc must learn to ose one's vanityan{ leal p!de. He repeated what he had said to me before about angeisand devils having most vaniry and added, 'But ifyou have real cunning,"canning'1.you can make them your slavcs. Angel can do one thing,ilabbel cen do all. Man must have real ct'nning, nor in present Englishscnse but old English sense.'

Another time, at dinn6s, while toasting the ifiots he again asked me,''What kind idiot you now?' 'I don't know', I said, 'You must tell me.'You should knov/,'hc said, very forcefully. 'Man must know himself.'

lfhel t think I'm hopeless, with some hope.' 'Yes, you are rcally hop+lcss idiot.' So the toast was given: 'To the health of dl hopeless idiots,both objective urd subjective. It is necessary to add that only those whowork on thenrselves in liG vrill dic honourably; those who do not willperish like dogs.' The toast was drunk in armagnac.

He asked me, 'Which you wish to be, objective or subjective?''Subjective, of course,' I said. 'I don't wish to perish like a dog.'

, He added, 'Every man thinks hc is God but a subjective hopeless

idiot sometimes knows that he is not God. Objective hopeless idiot isshit. Never can be anything, never can do anything. Subjeaivc hopelessi&ot has posibility not to be shit. He has come to the place where heknows he is hopeless. He has realized his nothingness, that he is non-entity.'-

He then handed me a red pepper and said, 'Eat, then will remember.'I put it in my mouth, and like the Kurd inBeelzebub's Tales,conrinuedto eat though it was as if my whole body was burning. He said" 'Canbe reminding factor.'

Which reminded me thar, at the Prieur6, one of the small boys wasmisbehaving and would not obey. Gurdjieffwas watching. He thenwent to him, took hold of him and said, 'You musr learn to obey yourparents,' turned him round and smacked hinil hard, and said, 'lhis will

76

Talks with Gwdjief

!e_ reTrndiry factor.' The little boy ran off crying and holding hisbehind, calling out, 'Rdminding factor, reminding facror!'

After eating the red pepper, while I was geting my breath, Gurdjieffsaid to someone, 'Everyone speak about "hope, and'Taith" and "loie".Forget about your hope, faith and love as you have understood them.Now must have new understanding. t write all about this in Beelze-bub.'

I said, 'What about people who have never met you, or will nevermeet you? How will they be able to understand Beelzebub's Tales?'He said, 'Perhaps will understand bemer than many always around me.You, by the way, you see much of me and become identified with me.[_not wish people identified with me, I wish them identified with myideas. Many who never will meet me, simple people, will understandmy book. Time come perhaps when they read Beelzebub's Tales inchurches.'

Among my notes I found the following:He who walks in the way of God is distinguished by five things:He is free from anxiety about his daily needs.Evcrything he does is done for the glory of God.He struggles constandy with his weaknesses and negative feelingr.He strives to remember himself always and in everything.He rememben that he is mortal and may die at any moment.

l

77

9

TALKS CONTINUED

JANE HBAI, who had been in Orage's group in New york, had the moststimulating and penetrating mind of any American woman I have evermet, and lilce all people with strong positive vibrations her negativeones were _equally strong. She could be quite rurhless and regardless ofnear friend or old foe when she wanted somethi'g. She had a strongmasculine side; as she said to me, 'I'm not really a woman.' In theabnormal life of our planet there are many who are either very mascu-line or very feminine or neither one nor the other, who are attractedby the,r own sex and certain types of the opposite sex: rhe masculine

rype of womT *d the feminine type of man, a result of the wrongdistribution of sex cells. Gurdjieffnwer refirsed any of these rypes, infact he turned many of them into usefirl human beings.

Jane asked me if I would speak to Ousperuky about her going to oneof his groups. I did so, but he refused, on the ground thai thJ'work'was not for such rypes, that it was not possible to do anything with suchpeople. 'Not possible for him,' I thought, 'but possible for Gurdjieff'

- Qurdjietrliked her. And she was able to raise a good deal of moneyfor him. She was a woman with real being and real understanding. I hadknown her intimately ftom tgz4 to t93fin New york, Fontaiiebleauand London, and at Gurdjieff's apartment. I once arranged a lunch forher with T. S. Eliot; although she had published hiskrst poems inThe Liltle Reuiew she had never met him, so I invited th"m tol Spanishrestaurant. 'We sat down at rz.3o and left at 3.3o. I wish I had madenotes of the conversation. Whether it was the wine or the talk or both,I was intoxicated and in the seventh heaven of literary conversation,which, besides being brilliant and stimulating had inner content. Bothknew almost all there was to know about the arts and affairs ofthe time,and those who yqere producing them, and it needed only Orage to makea perfect third.

OnceJane_said to Gurdjiefi 'You know, Mr. Gurdjiefi in Englandsometimes I forget when they play the National Anthem and dontt ger

78

Gurdjieffr-ith Philos

1946

:-;m#-e;lK*L

!t&d'

Talks Continued

up-forget there is a king.' He said, 'You must always remember thereis king and always stand up. This is organization, like when a man takesoffhat in church. Outwardly respect organization, and do as others do.Man has two worlds, inner and outer. Irurer world is yours, it is in-dependent place. Lr irurer world you can say king is merde, in outerworld, not.'

Someone asked, wasn't this hypocrisy?' 'What is hypocrite?' heasked. 'In old Greek means actor, one who plays part. In life one mustplay part, but remember you are playing parr. Only with those withcommon aim can you be sincere about your inner world. To be sincerewith everyone is pathological.'

Jane or someone brought up the subject ofjournalism, and aboutnewspaper articles and the people who write them. He said, 'Thesepeople are nothing, non-entities, and they use words only to hide theirnothingness. A normal man carurot take nothing from nothing, but thepsychopath can. These writers are psychopathic, they see somethingwhere there is nothing-in imagination. European languages have noroots. Greek has roots, and even Russian, some of whose words comefrom Greek, and have more meaning than the European languageswhich are based on dirty Latin-these European languages have nomeaning, articles written with these words have no content. This isone of the reasons why life nowadays is so empty.'

Jane said, 'They only confuse people's minds.' Gurdjieffsaid,'Mindnot important. Can be useful, like policeman. Feeling and sensing nearerto Nature. Man must feel, feeling with sensing. From this begins self-remembering, consciousness of self.'

He toldJane that she was now priest, real priest, and that her tail wasbeginaing to grow. She said to me, ''When I got home I sat down verygingerly.'

Another time, when the ifiots werc being toasted andJane was askedwhat her's was, she said, 'I'm no longer an ifiot. I've worked throughthem.' Gurdjieffsaid, 'What! Not idiot? Everyone idiot. I am idiot.Even God is i&ot.'

One of the women was speaking in surprised wonderment, evensatisfaction, about quintuplets that had recently been born. Gurdjieff'sreaction was that with five from one birth there could not be individu-ality. People would weep if they knew the meaning of it. People nowwere breeding like mice. br ancient times even twins were rare. Nobodysees that quantity destroys qualiry. I said that if a farmer had poorhorses he had to have eight to do the work of four; Gurdjieffsaid that

79

,l-rw

Talk Contitueil

Naturc needed qualiry not quantiry, but if men will not live normallyshc must produce quantity to give what she needs.

Gurdjieffwas very 6t at this time. A most unfattering phoro wastaken of him and he had copies made the size of a postage stamp andstucl. them on packets ofsweets that he gave away. Why, I don't know.He would hand out sweets to everyone. At the Caf6 de la Paix oneday he gave some sweets to a couple of pretry women at the nextablc. One said, 'Who is he?' 'I don't know,' replied thc other, 'but Ithink he's a chocolate manufacturer.'

Gabo, an old Rusian pupil, one day told him that he was eating toomuc.h fat, it was not good for him. With a qaizzical look Gurdjieffasked, 'Since when has egg told something to chicken?'

tn r944Jane had a fairly large group of her own, which had grownout of the group I started in rg33; this she kept to herself she seemedto want to protect her group. Even in Paris at the apartment her pupilswho had gone there with her kept to themselves; they were a groupapart. Gurdjieffad&essed her as Miss Keep. We called her group 'TheKeeps'. Jane hclped many people anil all her life she fought againstill-health.

Before I went to America in the war I gave her almost all of Orage'snotes that I bad, hrmdreds of pages, some of which were publishedunder the heading of 'Commentaries on Beelzebub', im Teachings ofGurdjief. Thesc she used for numy years in her later group.

Jure Heap practically brought up Tom and Fritz Peters. I lived withthe three of them for a time in New York. Fritz Peters, in spite of allthat Jane and Gurdjieff did for him, never understood Gurdjiefl Herelates that Gurdjieff among a group of French pupils, appointed himhis successor. But I saw Gurdjieffstage a similar scene in front of Orageand some of the men years before, and the 'successor' was a y.oung girl.These were meant as shocks to those present. So with the list of badwords he asked Fritz to write down-he did the same with myselfand others. With regard to the trip to Chicago, Fritz does nor relatethat another tnarL an older pupil, was with them, who told me thatwhcn they left Fritz and the group in Chicago for the Frank Lloyd'Wrights' place at Taliesin, Gurdjieff said, 'Now must change, we aregoing to special place;' he behaved seriously and made a great impres-sion on the pupils there.

It is as if Fritz Peters's books were written by two people-one, theintellectual, the brilliurt writer; the other the small boy Fritz who wasdevoted to Gurdjieff. The intellectual doubts the Teaching and the

8o

Talks Cowinaed

Teacher; the boy feels gratitude, yet does not know what to makeofit.

O- n my vislts go Gurdjieffin Paris I made notes and compared themwith notes of others who werc at the lunches and dinners; and thoughmany of thc things he said were repetitions of his sayings through thcyean, they struck one's esseirce with such force and freshnes thatlt wasas ifone had not heard them before, and a food ofnew light was tfuownon them.

lle was reproaching a man for asking a merely mentd question andtold him that his trouble was curiosiry, always wanting to kno* moreand more, never pondering, and never trying to undJntand what he,Gurdjieff, was pointing our to him. He said that curiosiry stinks. Buttherc is also real curiosity, which is to know what will help us to under-stand ourselvcs and the world around us. There

"te sttiking passages

in Prince Lubovedski about this. Lubovedski means lovi of niwthings.

Someone asked if it was true that man evolved from alfinals,Gurdjieff said no, nuur was from a diferent order of Naturq a&fferent formula.

In speaking about associations he said we must lct them flow, withoutthem we would die; associations are a stic"k with trn'o ends, a good endand a bad end. Some psychologists have called the fow of associations'the stream of consciousness', really, it is the stream of unconsciousness.'We must be aware dl the time and not let our attention be caught upin them or we shdl begin to dayJrcam and fantary, which is a sin.

-

We have thousands of associations which are usclcss for our ownbeing. kr giving a certain exercise he said, 'Treat your associations asanother person.

-S"y !o them, 'Let me do my work now and you shallhave your play later.' .

Something was said about appealing ro a man's feclings. I said, 'InEnglandtley say the way ro a man's heart is through Lis stomach.'Gurdjieffsaid, -'You sec,.even English somerimes say interesti"g thiog!'Someone asked, 'And where is a woman's hean?' He replied" 'Womai'shcart? Just below navel.'

Gur- djieffquoted an old salng about the rose saying to the nightin-g"l:, 'yoo can understand and love me only when you love my tfionrs;only then am I your slave.' The nightingale says, '!ven though I hateyour dirtiness I must love you and sing to you.'

La the Conferencc of the Birds Attar speaks of the nightingale's love8r

Talks Continued

for the rose as an excuse for his not going on the pilgrimage to theSimurgh.

G-urdjieffsaid that the only flower worth growing was the rose; Iunderstood why years later, when I began to gro*

"oses. He added

that all other flowers were 'merde'.Spgaking about interest in and work on oneself according to the

Teaching, he said that if people have a common aim, a real aim-noran ordinary liG aim-a feeling of brothcrly love will arise in them. tf$ey livg and work-together they will always feel this, whether theylove or hate each other. Not even family love can equd this feeling.'

I was in the CafE de la Pail one morning with Gurdjieff and twowomen of his 'special' group when the chasseur c"*e *i said that hewas wanted on the telephone. He went upstairs, and in a few minutescame back, obviously upset. He sat dowriand said, 'Ah! Life ! Life!'

''What is the matter?' I asked.'Svctdrfioff, Died suddenly this morning.'We had known the Svetchnikoft for some years and had visited them

and stayed ryar $ep in Les Andelp. Gurdjieff was very fond of'Papasha' as he calledfrim. At the Prieur6, papasha for a long periodproposed thc toasts of the 'idiots'. He and his-wife *.re gooih'""rt.dsimple bourgeois Russians 'of the old school'.

Gurdjieff was very moved. One could feel the forcc of his innerturmoil. After a while he said, 'Now I make change of habit, alwayswhen something like this happen I change habit and do somethingdifferent. From-now I drink ti6 *ot" ar*ign"c.' - o

^FI" g"rh9t 4 up his things and went back to his apartment. fAe same

afternoon he drove to Les Andelys, taking small giits from some of usto Ma&me svetcbnikofr He made all thearrang"*ents for the fimeralthere and did all that could be done for the f"*ily.

_His_saying that he would never drink armagnac again was not to be

-1l<* li*"lly, since he continued to drink it. He was saying somcthing'Podobnisirnian' as Beelzebub says-speaking in similiruIes, or a[Jgorically, as he.so oftq-di{; always, when som-ething unusual happenedto him, 'good' or'bad', he would use the shock tJ break soniJsmallhabit or to do something different. He told us often that when some-thing not to our likin_g happened to us, or ev€n something very un-fortunate, we should always strive to turn it to our own advantage andnot just submit passively and be carried away by our feelings.

-

Talks Coninued

The death of Svetchnihoff again reminded me of Gurdjieff's con-standy telling us that only by keeping the fact of our mortality beforeus, and the inevitable death of others, could we be delivered from thcegoism, vanity and self-love that spoils things for ourselves and ourrelations with others. By.keeping this in mind we bring about the deaththat is important-the death of the ryrant personaliry, the death of theold man; for without this death there can be no resurrection in the uuesense. Silesius often speaks about it:

Die before thou die,That so thou shalt not dieWhen thou dost come to die,Else thou diest utterly.

Were Christ a thousand timesReborn in Bethlehem's stallAnd not in thecThou art lost beyond recall.

This kind of dying is also painfirl, for it means loolcing into oneselfand seeing what one really is; and if we look sincerely and impartially,the false and 'lovely' picture we have had is destroyed. 'The way up isalso the way down', The more one can learn to look into onesef intothe depths, and see and realize the horrible potentialities that'come outin oneself and others, in the bickerings with friends and family, inpublic lift and war-if one can see them without becoming identified,the more will one see the higher potentialities. We have in ourselvesthe terrifying gargoyles of Notre Dame as well as the ascending engels,

and we must know and face them all: not look at them direcdy or, likethe Medusa's head, they will curn us to stone-but infirectly, throughthe Teaching of correct selfiobservation with selGremembering;and the more that one understands about oneself the less will be thetendency to hate and judge others. .

At Easter I had been to the service in the Russian Cathedral and wastelling Gurdjieff that my wife and I were married in the RussianCathedral in New York and that I had been to the Easter and Christmasservices in c.hurches in Russia. He said that it was good to go to thescservices, it is a'feeling experience'. All Christian ceremonies come fromthe old Greek Church. You don't understand the form of the serviceor why it is so, but it opens your feelings, because the men who com-posed the ceremonies and liturgies of the early church had great under-standing ofthe psychology ofpeople, but thesc ancient ceremonies have

83

Talk Continued

been spoilt. Real, objective knowledge has always existed with initiatedpeople, a stream, which still fows, even today, and. he mentioned thetwo strearns, the two riven, which he wrote about, one for initiates,one for ordinary people; there are two streatns of knowledge in theBible<nc for those with understanding, the other for those who takethings literally, which is the Bible known today. People have spoilt theteachings in the Bible as they spoil everything good; someone alwayswants to change and'improve'real teaching.

He said that 'Amen' means 'God help us'. It is far older than the

Jews. Evertfiing is in this word, all the scale, from merde to God. tn theBuddhist religion there is a similar word-OM. If wc open our mouthas though to say AR and pronounce Amen or OM (Aum), slowlyclosing to 'm' or 'n', the whole scale of sound is there.

Someone spoke about studying the ideas in other religions. Hc saidthat it is far better to study one's own machine than to read about ideas.For real study, serious study, concentration is necessary; but concentra-tion is &fficult becausc of the interference of the emotional cenrre,which is scattered over the organism; so that when wc wish to dosomething instinctively, or mentate with the mind, the emorionalcentre steps in and prcvents concentration. Real concentration isdirected attention in which all three centres take part. Then man canmove a moturtain.

Ordinary language has no vocabulary for 'high' ideas; but onlywords for simple ideas, or how to produce things, find our way abour,and so on. We must learn a new languagc.

You cannot understand essence with the mind, mind can only oh-serve the manifestations of persondity. Our so-called will comes'frompersonality, but essence has no will, just desires. As we observe ourpersondity it becomes more passive, then our essence can become activeand begin to grow, and eventually, with suuggle against our weak-nesses, individudity begins to take the place of persondity.

Only a corucious man can tcll which are the manifestations of essence

and which arc personaliry. The ordinary role we play in life is per-sonality, and with some people it becomes a fixed habit and is no longereven a role. Yet personality caJr rcact differendy with dilferent sur-roundings and people. Essence, when it does react, will always reictin the same way.

Essence in Greck ouoro, means being, intrinsic nature, the thing initselfi, inborn character, something that rs. The opposite is personaliry,persona, a mask, that which is not ours. But essence can be spoiled and

84

Talks Continued

warped: 'Man, most ignorant when he's most assured. His glassy

essence plays such fantastic tricts. . . .'

When Gurdjieff spoke to some of Orage's pupils about forming a

mesoteric group, he said that those who wished to be candidates had tobe able to think- not 'iC thinking in them by association but '[' think-ing actively and purposively. He said that the emotional and movingcerrffes must be 'educated'. Ordinary education is one-centred, con-cerned only with the formatory apparatus; only those schools which dosomething for the emotions as well as mind and body approximate toreal education.

Our two higher centres are like shangers in our home. This work is

to help people to become more conscious, first conscious of sel( thenobjectively conscious. A really conscious man can produce any im-pression he wishes on others, and play any role he pleases.

With ordinary man life is the neuualiingforce, but when we have areal aim, the aim becomes the neutralizing or reconciling force. Wethen have a real and constant cenae of graviT, not a centre ofgravitythat can change, as it can change in life. tn ordinary people the centreof gravity passes from one centre to another. Now it is in the movingcentre, now in feelings, then again in the mentd centre and often inthe sex centre. When the Teaching becomes our centre of graviry,all centres participate, and their activity is directed towards our realaim.

We must study the positive and negative parts of each centre. Astrong positive implies a strong negative-in this work as wdl as inUG. This work is a very strong positive and it must provoke a sfiongnegative among certain people who do not understand it.

3very time we stop or even observe negative feelings coming in wecan at the same time, create an opportunigy which we can use to remem-ber ourselves.

In the complex organization of the white ants in their hills, if thecenffe and sun, which is the queen, is killed, then all life and activityin the ant-hill stops and dies. [t is the same with our sun which is ourcentre; ifit stopped and die4 all liG in our solar system would die. Ourindividual liG is a tiny wheel in the great wheel of earthly life, whichagain, is a wheel in the life of the sun, which again is a small wheel inthe life of the great wheel of the megalocosmos.

The process of man may be compared with the process of a butterfly.The egg dies and becomes a caterpillar; the catelpillar dies and becomes

85

Talks Cotxinued

,a.chysa$;.the chrysalis dies and becomes a butterfly. If man dies totus old selt he becomes something quite different.

, Sglf-lemgmbering is,a lamp thai must be kept alight by energy fromthe instinctive and feeling centres.

. Man is a sort of symbol of the laws of creation. In him is the raw ofthree and the law of seven, there is evolution and involudon, progressand regress, struggle between active and passive, positive and neqativeye1 and no. Without this struggle there c^annot ti ,..1pr;;;.rr:;;;will be no real result for man.

Our thinking- is mechanical because we think with the formatoryapparatus' which is not a centre but a machine which has got out oforder and fi'rctions wrongly. The formatory apparatus c"rib. orefirrwhen.righdy-u1ed for tr*$"ri"g "nd

cl"rsifying o""t f..li"gr-*lthoughts. Real thinking is when rientating is conibined with 6eune.I fhrlosopner said 'I think, therefore I am.t Much better to say, ,Wh;I can feel and sense, then I can have the possibiliry to be,_toh;;" ,i;;ness'.

As we get older we find it more and more difiicult ro set newim^pressions. Real new impressions can be got only by .ffori, gr."teffort.

The sub-conscious contains the results of all our experiences.

'fi/ill

krdividuality

are the three forces in the Absolute. As, according to the law of theoctave' the forces that flow down the ray ofcreation] th"t

"r" irrrroi.,rioo

become more and more mechanical, so forces becom".i;;;J. wf,ibecomes inertia;'resistance, obstinacy; consciousness is regardJd

", p.r-*l9"tp; individualiry

"t " p..tot iiry, a thing.

. Having realized this, our mechanicariry, *.ih* can have what theclergymen call a 'conviction of sin'. Then we have the porribiliw. *ith:h. lr.lp o-f a teacher, of beginning the long clirnb ;p_;;#r'rh;involving force, against the blind fories of Natlure that mike u"s. oror-

86

Talles Contkued

against God, as it were. yet, here is the paradox, in order to evolve upagainst the down-flowing current, we rirust *ort *i f, N"*r.l'roir,,to become corucious, and-so, become worthy to u"

""u.al i"o orcoa.

_ord.1ary man cannot understand this. Evoluti"" *J i*"f;;""_Jacob's Ladder.

{[ fug: are on a scde. Begin where,we will, there is ascenr,evolution; descenr, involution iI {ri"g, il* ; ,il;;;;;;",what we see as results are also beginningi. Th. body is an insrrument for-*"n#.sting feelings, thoughts, andinstincts. 'I'is nor body. '['am the'way, 'I'bJlong rJrigr,,"?lir. r"attain red freedom, inner and oot r, I h"rr" to b!,ol3ro.;;;;

"*shut up and cannot c-ome forrh'; ,He hath h.dg"d *.lf""r"rfr" rcannot-g€t out; He hath made my chain heavy,. .6"a fr"rf,,"r"frl"L

T. *i hath compassg{ me- witl his net'. (psalms). God t ",

i*iJr.ao'sracles on man's real development; and at the same time he h"s tv*[-.m:.way_ro it. In facq'h" g"rr.

", il;dy-;;;;ieliil":'rh"Method, by which we can free orinelve, fro* th" *orid,il;;;;",l,ying,'"ssacre, ryranny. First the i""., fr..Jo* il;;;ilffi:*com' l nere are manv enemies, but 'a man's (worst) enemies are thoseof his own house'. (lfi""h.)

chief Feature in each one of us is a key to our actions and mani-festations. I.r tipr the .scales. _Always ,lr.

'r"-" morive moves ChiefFearure. It is like the bias in bowling, which prevenr, ,h; b.li g-";g:ltigh::4*ays,Chief Fearor. *"L.io, go oo at a tangenr. Ir is some-uung mecharucal and imaginxry and is found in the eriotional part ofessence. It gives the tone-pitch to the three csntres *d fb;; ,i;;;;.;of our wishes. It arises fr-om one o, *o".;rilr;;;;i;:fl:,fi,chielly from self-love and vanity. one candircover it bv becomins moreconscious; and its discovery brings an increase,f ;;;;;.:*"^

on types: trr9" observe yourserf and nore the things that anracryou, what you like to see,. tohear, ,o ,"*., ,ou.i, yr""*"y ifr.J*,lirfi';.Ti:b'""f; i:"HlFf, nTffi ;;*$n# jfimines the twelve basic rype{then the divisio" i".;#t;;, ;asubdivision into sevenry-two types.

Law of fusion of similarities: Experiences having the same rate ofvibration will fuse; and in thi, *orL^"llia.". *fri"fr-fr;;ffi;;87

Consciousress

Talks Continueil

tlre work help the magnetic centre in ourselves to grow and becomestronger.

llhere is a kind of immortality through chil&en and children'schildren. And there is an immortality which comes from a man havingto be ro.born in a succession of bodies until he has perfected himself-

IO

#

$

iI

ri

F. S. PINDER

rHB oNB uaN in England, apart from Orage, with whom I could talkopenly and freely was F. S. Pinder. Our early relationship hadgrown into a close and lasting friendship. Whenever we met I left himrefreshed and renewed, mentally and cmotionally. He had a deep un-derstanding of the inner meaning of Beelzebub's Tales. After onc ofour talks he gave me a copy of a talk of Gurdjieff's on learning to worklike a man. Briefy, it is to the effect that all creatures work, from insectsto man. One man works with his mind done, another with only hisbody, and nothing can be e4pected from them; they are onebrainedso to spealc. Only when all three brains work together can it be saidthat a man, real man, works, otherwise he works like an animal. Whenall three centres work togcther then it can be conscious work, but ouehas to learn how to work like this.

The least difficult is the moving centre, the next the thinking cenrrc;the most difrcult is the fceling centre.

At the Prieur6 Gurdjieff repeatedly told us to leam ro work, norlike a horse or evcn a libourei but fike a man.

Regarding the feeling centre being the most difficult, this may haveto do with what he says rn Beelzebub about the feeling cenre nor beingconcentrated in one place like the rnoving and thinking, but dis-persed.

In doing a physical job, like digg"g or sawing, one has to be con-standy on the watch not to get caught up in the fow of associations.Thc feelings easily become involved and an argument with someoneis started in one's mind. One begins to $'ork not even like a hone.In doing physical work like gardening or house-work one can, byscnsing or counting and remembering onese$ save 'n enormousamount of energy.

Pinder also gave me his notes on the breathing exercises, and ex-periments that Gurdjieffmadc at the Prieur6.

8988

F. S. Piruler

. He stated emphatically that it is 6r befter to do no breathing exer-cises at all than to do them ythoug a genuinc reachbr. m. ,yrr?*, ofbreathing,.yogr a1d orherwise, widelyidvertised, are b"rrd 6o only

"lar,tral

unferstanding and thereby dangerous. ffr. "". ,"g*, *i.understand them, would never for money give out their rei know_

ledge of breathing to all and sundry. r '

.- Gurdjieffsaid that in the breathing exercises as with everything elseif the movements are done without ile participation of the irrrlJp"",of the organism they can be harmfirl.

. He- divided the pupils into three groups, according to rype. He travetjre qrT groups a difrcult exercise with detaileJ"*pl"ir"tion;-"nd

ll:tgh the groups were doing the same exercise eacli group did itdtterently, according to type. He e4plained the three diffeient wavs cf:*p*di"g the chest: by breathing in air, by in_fLation, by tight;ingthe muscles.

In connection with,the breathing exercises he later gave very com_plicated exercises for the corucious ise of air and i*p..JJoor-#*rrr"la real breathing exercise is combined with anotier exercise. Theseexercises demanded one's whole aftention and concentr"tioo *d *.r"to be done gdy by older pupils under the insrruction of a teacher; andthey never became easy.

Dyrinq the breathing exercises in groups with Gurdjieffrwo of thepupils collapsed. whenth.y r""orr..i he said th"t th"y *"" fbr;rrlyhave been doing ordinary treathing exercises. rtr.y .'a*itiJ;:-o;.had been a profes'onal boxer; the other, a wofiran, a professional singer.

In.the ;tor-y of- ffiT. 8.y,. Gur _dji9tr relates

-thit, .orr..*iolii.

pseudo schools of breathing, physicaidevelopment *a *drgJ? JaSheikh says, 'Let God kill hi*-*ho does not tirdersrand, y;, ";;;-pr;put others on the path.'

. I o{en stayed with the pinders in christchurch. They owned theirlungalow but were living on an income of five pot*j,

" *..ti"o

thcrewassuch a psychological richness in the atmJsph.*;.;;, ;.t;wealth of understanding tf the meaning and aim or

""irr*t" ,i",whenever I went there.ifelt lifted up. rlie talk always ,;;;;J;Gurdjieff and the Tcaching

-sneakins about ouspensky, pinder said, 'All that ouspenskv had of

value, he got from Gurdjieff and that only with his mind. Fie had a

ryfy.g.ry fing at the movements; and even confessed to b.i"g ilt,Gurdjletrt

main.quarrel with_hig was that he, Ouspensky, ,ilGi;i.knew better, and was apt to kick over the ffaces. I-met oorpority io

9o

F. S. Piniler

Ekaterinodar when I was in the army serving under Holman forDenikin. Orage had written to me and I took duspensky on mv staff1t Qrage's request; incidentally, the War Office m^ade me responsible

l".r.hr r.Ilry, ryhich I paid out of my own pockct. I got to k iw hi-trtll *_.1. At that time he was seemingly working t i*ooio*h JthGurdjiefl ro whom he menrioned me, and curdjiJffafrerwards lookedme up in Tiflis. Larer, there seemed to be a rift Lemeen Gurdiieffandouspensky, but I did not know why. when the Institute w"", ,t"rtedat the Prieuri I went there with myfamily and when Gurdjietrwentto America, managed the prieurd for a time. on one o"""ri]oo beforethis, when ouspensky came ro the prieuri, Gurdjieffrefused to let himinterpret for him ro a crowded study House of rnglish and Russiansand visitors. Ouspensky, an educatei Russian, *", "of

course "

*or"yilab.le persol-thg mp#

-al Englishman, but Gurdjieffsaid that as Ihad done it all dong I had bettei conrinuc. ouspeisky interruptedr.:yq"t times, objecting to my translation, and

^Curd.jltr ,etoited,

'Pinder is interpreting for me-not you.,

. 'Of course Gurdjieff was di#iculi for an Englishman to inteqprer,since even the Russians followed his Russian oftin with d;ftculry; hepur-posely

-made nothing easy. Ouspensky apparently thoughr ,:r", t.

gdej:to_o-d Gurdjieff and his innef teachinil*hi"h he di? nor, andGurdjieffhad to make him choose whether-to stay with him andsub-mit to. the discipline, or break- away. lAe episode was pain{irl butaccording-to-lay. Ousperyky lcnew he theiry, beme, tj"n anyonepossibly-he had the knowledge, but he &dnot unilerstanil.

r

'When men like Oyfe1st f., and his followers, impelled by self-importance, give out what they have not fully &gested, tirey are bound,according to Gurdjigfi either to vomir or to *r.i p.t*"i"li"dig"rtioi.

-.Quspenlky could never forget Gurdjieff,s atiacking him ii no",

ofhis pupils. ouspensky had sei out, in]the Theosophical tr"diao" i"old st. Petersburg, in a role in which he saw himself as a successfulreligious teacher-though he may not havc been conscious of this. He*11

"r I have_said, a professioni philosopher.

'I've looked over o-uspensky's-Tertiui organun end New Moilel,but have se€n none of Nicollt books. Botlimen were professionaly"r:I Td philosophers, plagiarists of ,mysrical'

writings. borp.n ky,for dI his grear brain, w-as, {or what was real, turintellig*t; *i it *",T""T:b! _that

Ouspensky should cut himself and his"pupils offfromCu.rfjletr tl is strange that there can be

'nlk of ,Ousp**y'r t"".hiot',

and'GurdjieGOuspensky Slnrem': the Teaching ii Curiiien;'s., o

9r

{

il

ri

BOOK II

OUSPENSKY

Gurdjieff rircn

II

O USPEN S KY IN LONDON

A. R. Orage, Frank Pinder, Rowland Kcnney, Fontaincblcau, rgzz

rN THE EARLY spRrNG follo-wing Orage's death, there was a ring at ourdoor. When I opened it there stood, to my joy and surprise, tf,. g.rt-manns. They had-

_come over for a visit io the Ousfenskys and toarrange for the publication ofsome of Mr. de Hartmani's music. Theyspent lh: day with us and as usual we talked with hardly a stop. It wasone of those occasions when, as Gurdjieff said, two people ri..t andare sympathedc, something fows between them; thJ qualiry of theiratmospheres ghanges. After spending the day with us th-ey went on toGadsden,-to the Ouspenskys. A few days later they came again, with amessage from Mr. Ouspensky, to the effect that now thaiOrage wasdead things had changed and he would like to see us.

I drove the Hartmanns to the house in Gadsden, Kent, a fairly largeplace standing in its own grounds. We had not seen Madame Ouspensfyfor several years and I had seen Ouspensky only once before.

The large drawing-room might have teen in Old Russia; full ofbeautifirl Russian prints, ornasrents and ikons. In a few minutes theouspenskys came in. ouspensky was not the cold, severe intellectual Iexpected to find, though this was one aspect ofhim; he was warm andfriendly and easy to talk to. Tea was brought in by some of the pupils,eyerry.hing very elegant. During tea Madame Ouspensky did most ofthe talking, asking me many questioru about how Iirnderstood this andthat..Then, after llong paus{ she said, 'Ah! I see gaps in your under-

:,Tdi.rg; many things you do nor understand!' t ripiied, t know thatI don't understand many things .In fact,I'm beginiing to realize thatI wrderstand very little, in spite o{ or perhaps bei-"rrr. of*y *ork withOrage arrd Gurdjieff,' and I went on to r"y so*ething about the groupin New York, but she interrupted me wiih, 'There *"r" **y ihirrgl,that Mr. prage did not understand or rurdersrood wrongly. fvlr. Or"i.was too formatory for one thing.'

'I'm sure Orage would have agreed with you but you had not seen

95

Ouspensfu in London

him for ten years, and he had changed very much in that time. Andyou know, Gurdjieffhimself once said that Mr. Ouspensky himselfwastoo formatory.'

This was when three ofus wcre sitting with orage at one ofthe littletables outside the dinirig room_ar the Prieur6. orage was holding forthabout something or other and Gurdjieff, who w"s sitting at aiothertabJe with Sqjoerneval, was evidently listening to the toies of voice,and observing our gestures and postures and facial expressions. For hegtt ufr came over to us and said, 'Orage, I not like that scarf you wear.Y-ou know why?'Orage shook his head. 'It remind me of Ouspensky.He wore such thing sometimes. Never did I likc such scarf ofhis-.' Thenhe went indoors.

'We asked each other what he meant. Orage said, 'I suspect hemeant that I was being too formatory. I sometimes am. Ousptsky istoo.t

J {i{ no1 repeat this srory ro the Ouspenskys; and as it crossed mymind Madame (as she was usually called) fired a regular barage of_gflltigns at me. We got a litde heated and I said, 'Madame Ouspensky,I didn't come here to bc put through a carechism bur to have

" friendiy

talk.'Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ouspansky malcing a signalto her as iflo pipe do_wn. someone began to Lugh'and

"llioio.ii".After a while Ouspensky talked about Gurdjiefi and he askej me howI understood'considering','self-remembering','selGobservation','neg-ative emotion'. I said that after his accident I never heard Gurdjieffusethese terms. For self-remembering he used the expression 'red iepper';and for negative emotions, the denying part, he used 'dabbel'jevil.He said that groups tended to concentrate on one or other aspect of theteaching,,to become identified with expressions. He was constantlytrying to destroy this identification; and this was something painful. yethe

.was-corrstandy reminding us of the method of self-iememberingand self-observation; and the need to use and transmute the force o?

legative emotions. 'It has to do with what hc calls Being-parktdolg-dury,' I said; 'The book, Beelzebub's Tales, is full of this.'-

'Beelzebub's Tales?'asked Madame. ''We do not have this.''It's the Bible of the 'Work,' I said, 'I have a typescript copy.'Later, as we were leaving, Ouspensky asked me if I would lend

him my copy of Beelzebub's Tales.''Do you object to my making a copy of it?' he asked.'Of course not.''Well then, what can I do for you in returnl'

96

Ouspe*W fu Lonilon

'I don't know. Nothing, I think. But t would e4ioy visiting you andtalking to you at times.'

''Would you like to come to my groupsl''That might be interesting.''Which group would you like ro come to?'I thought for a moment, then said, 'Your newest and youngest

group.''That will fit in, for I have a new group of thirry people which

will have its first meeting in two weelcs. Only there will be con&-tions.'

'What conditions?'

_ 'That you agree not to ask questions in the group and not to speak

aboat Beelzebub's Tales or Mr. Gurdjieffto any of my pupils.''I agree. Bur [, on my part, must be free to see Mr. Curd3ieffand his

pupils whenever I wish.'tOf course,' said Ouspenrky. A"d so began a contact, and a fairly

close contact, which was to last ten years.

Not long after our visit to Gadsden, Ouspensky moved his school toLyne Place in Surrey, an eighteenth-century mansion with beautifulgrounds, a park and an ornamental lake, and he invited me to visit him.When I arrived I was taken up to his study; we shook hands and satdown, and he poured out glasses ofred wine. We began by talking aboutRussia and t told him about my experiences there. Then he spolc- aboutLyne Place and said that as he now had nearly a thousand pupils, theywere taldng a large place in Colet Gardens in Barons Courrwlth a hiland lecrure rooms. After our third glass of wine, he began to speakabout Gurdjiefr

Hc said, 'You know, when Gurdjieff started his Institute in paris Idid everything I could for him. I raisedlnoney for him and sent himpupils, many of them infuential people. When he bought the prieurd Iwent therc myself and Madame stayed for some time. but I found thathe had changed from when I knew him in Russia. He was difiicult inEssentuki and Constantinople but more so in Fonainebleau. His be-haviour had changed. He did many things that I did not like, but itwasn't what he did that upser me, it was the stupid way he did them.He came to London to my group and made things very unpleasant forme. After this I saw that I must brealc with him, and t told my pupilsthat they would have to choose between going to Fontainebleau orworking with me.'

97

Aspensky itt Lonilon

'But Madame Ouspenslcy wcnt to the prieur6, and I knew herdaughter and young grandson Lonia who were there.'

'Not after r9a5. you see, Gurdjieff's mind never recovered from hisaccident.

, 'I."angg accept that,' I said. 'We cannot judge Gurdjiefffrom ourlcvel. He livcs from essence *{, T a grear i."r"or.,

"cJording to ob_

jective reason, and a person who lives thus can sometimes "ip"", toour minds, T9illby wrong educarion and conditioning, as noinirmal.

for me_Grgdjieffreptesents objective saniry; orage wi'o suffered much!.t Gyajieff's behaviour and was often baff'ed agreed with me.Gurdjieffgives qhocks, makes difficuldes, plays roles bith fb, [i, ;;development pd &t those around him. rte is perfecting himself as wear: lrrmg t9_do and all.his actions are practicJ. He /iueithe Teaching,while we tdk about it.'

'No,' said ouspensky. He lost contaa with the source after Essentuki.His behaviour goes conrrary to his teaching. Then the accident. Hedrives a car as if he were riding a horsc.'

'f can't agree that he's lost contact with the source,'I said. .Formeheis the source.'

ouspensky was not even armoyed with me; he vras sure that he wasright. I began to see traces of the infexible mental attitude that besetsRussians, as individuds and in government; once they have adopted amental attitude to a given situation they will stick to it, whateJer thecost. Everyone knows, for example, that Russia produced more food.before the revolution when peasants worked on irt"t , and had theirown holdings than under the system of socialized collective farminsYet the.o*-uttirt goo.*ro.r.it, still persist io "oll."iJ";;;ii;having to buy wheat from capitalist countries.

. ouspensky had adopted a certain attitude to Gurdjieffand persisted init; and it grew stronger with time.

_ Rggardingthe incident of Gurdjiefft-*{r to Ouspensky's group inLondon, Pinder told me that Gurdjieffhad been.oir""*id

"Lorrr^th"appr-oagh to the work of some of Ouspensky's pupils and about Ous_pgrkyi own lack of'nderstanding of the real porpor" ofthe work andof GurdjieffhimseE, and in thc winter of rgzzfie took pind", *ith hi*to London and went to a meering of ouspensky and his pupils. Gurd-jiqt"ry. Ouspensky thag h9 was workinf on the *rorrg^liio; h" *",roo intellectual. Ifhe wished to undustanirne musr ttop

"id bejin again

to-worlc with Gurdjiefr But ouspensky could not take it and e6t -i*.Also, he obiected to Pinder i"r"qpt"rntg for Gurdjieff *hor-. n"giiJr,98

Ouspenshy in London

t|9n w.as not good. But Glrdjieff said that pinder rurderstood manyglings !e1q than Ouspensky, thag his Russian was good enough anihis English better than-Ouspenskyi.

Gurdjieff tried to explain that all of ouspersky's vasr knowredgewould be useless unless he worked on himseif in order to uoderrt"ridsome basic principles and that without this his pupils would ger no-ytr.: He thengot up and he and pinder left. On the way back-Gurd-jieffsaid to Pinder, 'now they will haue to choose a teacher.'

orage's untimely death constandy brought to my mind the idea ofrecurrence and reincarnation, the wish io know'something definiteabout it, and one of the first things I asked Ouspensky iras, .DidGurdjieffsay anything more to you about t"",rrr.rri" tU"n i, in yourwritings?'

'No. trn fact he said very litde, but he did accept my ideas as a theory.And I'm sure he rmderstood much more than he toid o, in Russia."

I:9"fuy"{,.'O1age- once said that he himself had read everything hec.oul.d set hold of and had studied every oriental theory o" rr"

"i,.,death, yet he knew absolutely nothing-was nor sure of anything.'

. 'N!f qh.ory,' said Ouspensly, 'is .,-*rt m"n is born again on th""s"-.d"y io the same house of the i"me p"rentr-and cverlthing in his lifewill repeat. He will meet the ,"*" ir.o, love the ,"*" *oir"r and soon.t

. -'Gur-djieffimplies,' I said, 'that this may be so, yer ifa man works onhjmself a1d changgs, then circurnstances will .fr*g" with him. Hischaracteristics will be similar but his essence may b"-diffe".nt. He maybe freer and so avoid many stupid mistakes. For example, in my ownlife there are incidents I do not wish to repeat-some ofinyschooi d"yr,and my life in the army ar thetimeofthJrirstWorldWai.theho,,o*of these are always-with me; and I feel rnd know that my only hope isty work ol *y:.14 ro remember mysel4 to practise neing-farktdolg-duty. As-thc aphorism in the Study House iys, ,One

of"the chief ii-centives for work on yourselfis the realization that at any moment youmay die.'The remembrance of these two periods of my lifc and'theaphorism help me ro remember ro work. And I see how easily, if Iwere a litde more conscious, these events could be avoided in th" fo*r"-Also Isee ho.*:T{y, b"ki"g consciousness, I could repeat and repeat.'

At the end of this talk ouspensky spolce to me of solmething he hadyritten in Rusia Ti g"n" me

" typescript translation of it ininglish.

Hc was thinking of having it pubiished 6,rt *"r uncerain whethir to99

Ouspensby in Innilon

call it A cinema Drama or The stange Life of ban ossokin.I foundtl r.ry interesting-the most interesting ireatm"nt of recurrence infiction that I had read. c. H. ginton in scientifu Romances has a,

story based on the same idea.I find it fifficult ro accept Ouspensky's theory that, for example,

fI lther has been born again in the same farm irouse in Haqpenden,that he is nowl,b9y.g9i"g to th" r'ill"g. school, that he will go 6 Lorooand marry and I shall be born in the same tiny villa there ani so on andso on. There may be something in the theory of Milton's Mortalists:that the dead are dead until the end of the world and that the world willbegg again and everything will repeat.

. Th"r.." is also a fr:ory that, after a number of years we are born again

h {*$g su*oundings and meet the same people in different bodi"twith different essences, since planetary iofluJncei may be different.

. . q +" chapter 9o 'MJ Farher' in ttre Second Series, Gurdjiefftells of

his father sayingthat after death, something persisrs fot " tii. and may

even be "Ff.{ by surroundings; then ihis fies. This may refer tothe second death mentioned in Reveladons, and the second sacredRascooarno of Beelzebub's Tales.

Every retgion, from the mosr primitive to the most highlv organ-ized, has some theory or other about life after death, but m"osiof fiesetheories arejustfantasy and lead to endless and useless speculation.

-.I oo.j asked Ouspensky, 'Where have all these peopli Socrates and

PJatg, lor example, gone to? Where are they, *h"i.ver is left of them?And what happens eventually if we work'and perfect ourselves to acertain degree?'

'I don't know,'he said. 'But there is a possibiliry that we may go roanother planet, where conditions are moie favourable.

. 'You. remember perhapl that in one of my group meetings I spoke

about the various ideas oflife after death: the'so--callid scientfrc idia ofdeath as complete disappearance; the spiritualists and their idea oft-"*t"4 and the posibfiry of getting irirorrt""t with what survives;the christian and Mahommedan ideas with rewards of heaven andpunishments of hell; the theosophists and their idea of reincarnation;Buddhist ideas of reincarnarion and the rest. All of these taken simply,and not frgrn tle point of view of their wiseacrings and distortiins,heve something that is right.'

. Gurdjiefi as I have said, has a good deal to say in Beelzebub, s Talesabout death and after. Much is hidden and each must find it for him-

IOO

Ouspensky in Lonilon

self. The more I study the book the more am I convinced that he hassaid the last word on the subject for our time and that his formulationsare according to sane logic. In the book one is constantly reminded ofthe idea that if a **, !y conscious efforr or by accideni, has acquiredthe conception-of a soul henust, willy nilly, become coated

"g"in "ndagain yith a planetary- body until the soui becomes perGcte?, or itwill suffer and languish eternally. This Teaching is to help these un-fortunates, people like us.

If we review our life sincerely and impartially we carrnot but beappalled and shocked at our stupidities and mistakes, which, if we hadmade an effort at the moment, could have been at least mitigated. somany. thin-gs that, according to subjective moraliry ,..*.i ro havebeen 'good' turn out to have been'bad'*'sin'. we missed the marh.

what is the soul? Gurdjieffsays thar a soul is a luxury; irisnorneces-r"y to the average man, who can firnction perfectly well without it.The Muslims saytharwomen do nothave so.th bot thit theycan achieveone through a Tan.A soul_is something rare-that 'something'whichis immortal and which can be achieved by those who have a dlep wishin their essence for continuation. This work is for those who h'ave inthemselves the conception or beginning of a soul, of the immortalspark, and it provides a practical method. The question of the soul iscorurected with that of essence, which is said to bi a sort of compoundofrealities both simple and complex-it is capaciry and facrrldes,

"ll rh"t

we have inherited from our aniestors, inteimixed with praneiarv in-fluences, warmed by solar fire. Essence has its defects, birt it has richpossibilities and real eternal wishes.

IOI

OUSPENSKY'S GRO('P.

TALKS WITH OUSPENSKY

Ouspmsky's Group

Then followed other questions from the audience; their whole attcn-tion being on Ouspensky. As the evening went on I became more andmore impressed with the breadth and clariry of his massive and powcr-ful mind-so far * knowledge was concerned.

Soon after the questions began I glanced at my wift and we bothsmiled broadly; the questions were almost identical with those askcd inOrage's early groups in New Yorlc; though, while those were spokenwith a broad American accent 'as if mouth were lirll of cold potato'according to Gurdjiefi and answered by an Englishman, here they wereasked in what Ameticans call 'a clipped English accent', 'as if mouthwere full of hot potato', and answered by a Russian. And the answers,if not exacdy the same, were strikingly similar.

tondering this I saw why questions, ar least in young groups every-where, must follow a pattern; each will ask questions according to histype. If you understand rfpes you will know whar quesrions they willask even before they open their moutts. Gurdjieff understood rypes,hence his extraordinary, almost magical, power of seeing into thehuman psyche. The science of rypes has been known to r."l initiatesfrom the earliest times. Attar's Conference of the Birds wriaen in thetwelfth century, is pardy based on this. Since all men everywherehave the same basic emotions all men have the same soft of feelings-including vanity and self-love; bur, as the reason of ordinary m"n itabnormal and belongs to the reason of knowledge, all men thinkdifferendy. Only those who possess the reason of r:nderstanding canthink in common.

Ouspensky's replies to questions, the general atmosphere, stimulatedme. My lary inefrcient mind needcd this kind ofwork at this time. I cansay_ n9w that the important thing I got from Ouspensky's meeting;sand tdks with him was the further training of my mind io formulatemy thoughts and feelings. .

The meeting ended about ren-thirry. The audience, mosdy young andyoung middle-aged men and women, were asked not to loitir ouiside.There was litde talking and everyone went his way.

Though we still had a small group of our own of people I had gortogether tn ry32 and which Jane Heap .was now diricting, I Glt iheneed of Ouspansky's groups and the conrac with the Ouspenskys. Butfrom the first I noticed a difference between Gurdjieff's and Orage'spupils on theone hand and Ouspensky's on the other. In the Ouspensky

-rogp lt was as if one were associated with a Russian secret soiiety-the hush-hush and the precautions; pupils were constantly on thc watch

r03

T2

ouspsxsry's cRorr? MEETTNc to which we had been invited at the housein'Warwick Gardens was timed for 8 p.m. We arrivcd, my wifeandl,about 7.45. kr the hall a woman sat ar a table with a list of names, shetook ours and we wenr inro a room filled with rows of chairs whichsoon began to fill up. The atmosphere was rather tense; there was afeeling of expectancy and I had to remember myselfwith all my mightto keep my emanations to mysdf and not let them run to waite.Curd.liitrsaid th"t

"*"tions wirich mechanically fow out from peoplestink, but that if one keeps them to oneself they will accumul"i". notpass from one, and will crystallize. The energy that passes frompeople-the emotions of a crowd at a football match or a icvivalist oi" p-olitical meeting, goes to the moon. But a man can collect energy from acrowd, as a dynamo collects eleariciry from the atmosphere. I foundthat I was able to, so to say, collect some of the energy from the groupand keep my own from running to wefte.

Soon every seat was occupied and people began to glance roundevery time the door opened. It was with a feeling of relief when, halfan hour later, one of Ouspensky's older pupils, a rnarL came in and satat,the right of Ouspcnsky's chair and asked for questions, which weretaken down by a woman secretary. Sometimes this man would ansrtrerthe questions himse(, others he let pass, which were later answered byOuspenslcy. In about fifteen minutes Ouspenslcy came in, followed byfour prosperous-looking professional-looking well-dressed men, olderpupils, who sat round him facing us. Ouspensky took up the list ofnames of those present and scanned it, then sat back and, with rather asevere e{pression glanced round the room and said, ''Well, anyquestions?'

The questions were read out, he answering, clearly and concisely.toz

Arpensky's Group

as to whom they spoke and what they said; as if the police might,beexpected et eny time. I missed the emotional freedom and mutual ex-change of Gurdjieff's and Orage's pupils.

The secretiveness had very litde to do with what they called the'work'. It was Russian. Anyone who has lived in Russia, or read thememoirs of those who visited Russia, will understand. Even in theeighteenth century, travellers from France and England who wishedto talk privately would go to the centre of a large square in Petersburgor Moscow to walk up and down, so as not to be overheard and bereported to the police. One could understand this with regard to theOuspenskys. They were Russian; and one of Ouspensky's sisters, a

brilliant young woman, had been exiled to Siberia by the Tzsar'sgovcrnment for 'revolutionary activities' and had died there. Anothercause was the real difficulties that Gurdjieffhad created for Ouspenskyin tgzz, specidly created, according to F. S. Pinder, for Ouspensky'spossible inner development. Gurdjieffwished Ouspensky to apply theteaching practically but Ouspensky either would not or could notsubmit to the severe discipline that would have been necessary. Headmitted to Pinder that he was physically and emotionally lazy. So hecontinued with his philosophical school; and became a sort of Plato toGurdjiefr's Socrates, teaching the theory, the philosophy.

Shordy after they moved to Lyne Place, Ouspensky showed meround the grounds, pointing out the work the pupils were doing. Later,in his study, he asked me to come down and work with them. I said Iwould have to think about it. I did think about it, and was greatlytempted. It would be pleasant to work with these people, whom Iliked; yet I saw that I could be in a false position. My contact with themwould be only personality contact, since I would not be able to speak

to them from essence about the ideas, essence for me being Gurdjieffand his writings. So, although he several times brought up the questionit came to nothing.

As far as I could see no real tasks were given in physical work as atthe Prieurd and no exercises apart from one or two very simple ones.

There were no 'shocks' as Gurdjieffused to give; and it could not havebeen otherwise. It was a well-run philosophical school, unique in ourtime perhaps, with nearly a thousand pupils; and no breath of scandal

ever touched it. Sometimes I wished that Gurdjieff could come andthrow an essence bomb and wake these nice people into life; yet howmuch poorer their existence would have been without the life at LynePlace

Ouspensley's Group

Meanwhile conversations with the Ousparskys continued-theylasted, in fact, until the war. Ouspensky would invite me to his studyand open a botde of wine, and after three glasses, as Gurdjieff hadrecommended, I was able to open up and talk freely. Gradudly theliking for hifn warmed into a real affection, for here I saw quite anotherside of him; not the somewhat forbidding philosopher, but a warm andsympathetic man.

I made no notes, as our talks were really an exchange of subjectiveopinions. He spoke about his life in Russia and the result of somestrange experiments he had made. We compared notes about ourtravels and, ofcourse, talked a great deal about Gurdjieff

Ouspensky said, 'I tried many times to come to ur understandingwith Gurdjiefl but it was not possible, and when he came to Londonand tried to break up my group I had to sever my connection withhim.'

It was notpossible to come to an'understanding'with Gurdjieff Youeither accepted him as a teacher or you did not. And when you hadabsorbed as much as you could carry you went away and digested it.

'As for liquidating your group,' I said, 'he did just that to Orage inNew York in Orage's last year there.' And I related the incident.'Gurdjieff's methods were &astic,' I said. 'but as we are so sunlc inapathy, so mechanical, he had to give us violent shocks.'

As always, Ouspensky listened to me patiendy and even with in-terest, but I felt that nothing I could say would change his attitude inthe least.

A year later, during a conversation, Ouspensky said, '[t is necessarythat we get in touch with an esoteric school.'

'Do you know of an esoteric school?' I asked.'No, but there must be schools, either in Europe or the Near East.''But why is it necessary? We have 1 school.'''Where?''The Prieur6 was an esoteric school. Gurdjieffhimself is, so to speak,

an esoteric school.''No, I carurot accept that. It is necessary, as I say, to get in touchwith

an esoteric school.'He went on to say something about there being a missing link, which

I then could not follow.'For me,' I said, 'the esoteric school is in Paris. I feel no need to

look for another, nor have I any wish to do so while Gurdjieff isalive.'

r05

Ouspenshy's Group

Ouspensky said nothing. 'We sar quietly smoking, then he said,.Whywon't you come and work at Lyne?'

For one thing,' I said,-'[ find ir almost imposible to make any realcontact,with-your pupils. They are friendly, but there is always abarrier. You know, they seem to be more English than the fnglish innot wishing to give themselves away; there is a feeling of rJstraintabout them. In other wo-rds, t lilce their penondities bit I can't getat their essence. All that I have got in the system is based on GwdjieF'spersonal teaching and Beelzebub's Tales, and these I have agreed ,iot tospeak about.'

He smiled and said, 'Bur you will get to know rhem in rime.,I thought for a bit and said, 'Why don't you let me read Beelzebub,s

Tales to a small group of your older pupils, either here or in London?qir_ir something I .r"l{ do. No discussion, just reading.'

'No, it is not possible.''Why?'

. 'For one rhng Beelzebub's Tales nee& a great deal of mental prepara-

tion.'

- 'Not mental preparation,' I said, 'but an ability to read between the

F"r, 1nd patience and perseverance. M"ny simple people can take iqthough intellectuals are frequendy bafled, they c"n't

-fit it into anycategory or school of psychology or philosophy.'

'No,' he said, '[ can't agree to your reading it to them nor to theirreading it.'

'But you read it. You have a copy!''No, ['ve glanced at it, but not read it.''You haven't read it? Why?''[t sticks in my throat.'From sheer astonishment I could say nothing, and he began to talk of

something else.

S-9me gme laggr -he

gave mea rypescript to read, saying that he was*ituS do1vn 4l that he could rcmemblr of what Cur{ieffhad saidto him. When he asked my opinion of it I said that it wL wonder lstuff; it yas in a different vein from Tertium Organum, and A NewMoilel of the (Jniuerse, much higher in the scale oiid."s; it was a ver-batim report of Gurdjieff's ralks.

'But you -will surely publish thisl' t asked. 'Apart from Beelzebub,s

Tales and the seconil series, ir's the most interesting collection ofGurdjiefft sl)lqrgs and doings that could possibly be g-ot rogether.,

'I may publish it-but not if Gurdjieff publisires ieelzebib's Tales.ro6

Ouspenshy's Group

. .T9 -y-q"estion '!V,hy?' he did not answer. ft was eventudly pub-[1h:{, gftel Gurdjieff's death-Fragments of an unknown fiini"g,yhich the American publishers stupidly dubbed In Search of the Miracu-lous.

I cnjoyed r*Tg to Madame Ouspensky-she was always stimula-ting, but l_never felt close to her as t did to Ouspensky. She was alwaysthe Grand Duchess, keeping you at a &stance, ani I n".,er felt thewarmth that Ouspansky, in his mellow moods, radiated. But then, I'vealways found it more srimulating to discuss ideas with men than withwomen.

Some time after meeting Ouspensky I was in paris with Gurdjieffandat lunch told him about my conracr with him and about ori goingto his gloup. He listened, and made an unflattering rcmark iboutOuspensky. 'Mr. Gurdjieff,' I said, 'I like Ouspensky and t enjoy talkingto him.'

'Oh yes, Ouspensky very nice man to talk to and drink vodka with,but he is weak man.'

A day or so later, he called me into his store-room. This store-room,which later became 6mous, was overfowing with every kind ofdelicious food from every part of Europe and-the Near last-fruits,dried meat, cold sausages and salami, sw..tt, pr.served and carured food,and herbs. flhe room was permeated with the smell of lovage, one ofmy-favourite herbs; and even now, when I go into my garden andsmell the lovage, by association I am back in thi store-roo*]Th.r" *",alarge refrigerator, a small table, and a chair for Gurdjieffand one for avisiror. Gurdjieff produced three large boxes whiih he filled with

different dclicious things to eat-sweets, sausage, preserves andso on. 'Now,'he said, 'tie them up and talce them witi you. One is foryour family, one for Mrs. Howarth arfd her daughter, one for MadameOuspensky.'They weighed about ten poun& each.

_ On the way back to London I pondered what Gurdjieffhad meantby Ouspensky's being a weak man. Every one of us on ttris planct hashis weakqesses, his vaniry and self-love, his dark side and his light side,his

-posibilities and impossibilities, and evcry man has his suffering.

Blalce knew it:

I wander thro' each charter'd street,Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,Aud mark in every face I meetMarks of weakness, marls of woc.

t(y7

Ouspensky's Group

In cvery cty of evcry Man,In every Infant's cry of fear,In evcry voice, in every ban,The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.

'What was Ouspensky's weakness? Where was it? As I refected Igradudly ceme to see that it was, as with most of us, in his emotionalcentre. All of us (including, perhaps especially, intellectuals,like Shawand Bertrand Russcll) are rurdeveloped emotionally. One norices irparticularly with intellectuals, since one expects them to be adultemotionally-which they are not.

Both Orage and Ouspensky had extraordinary and unusual in-tellectud integrity, and one could rely on this. But I had come to see

that emotionally, I could trust no one and nothing, least of dl myselfOur feelings can c,hange from wcek to wee"k, day to day, and evenhour to hour.

Ouspensky's attitude to Gurdjieff was chiefy emotional, hencep"tti"l and subjective; but his approach to Gurdjieff's system was in-tellectud and impartial-it had itrt"griry. Orage also had intellbctualintegrity; yet he alwap accepted Gurdjieffas the Teacher.

On the mental plane, as regards Ouspensky, I sometimes felt likethc mouse when the elephant looked at him and said, 'Bur you'rc sosmall.' And the mouse replied, ''Well, I've been sick!' But emotionallyI never felt inferior to Ouspensky. I was discussing rhe cenrres with himone day and said, 'My horse is too strong for me; it so often takes thebit between its teeth and gallops oS landing me in di{ficuk situarions.I lose control ofiq and often have to pay heavily for this. My feelings-you know-the carriage, the horse and the drivcr. My feeling centreis too strong.'

He said, 'A strong feeling centre is a gift of Goil.'I said, 'One can have a strong f..li"g centre yet be conscious of a

wealsness in the solar plexus.'One was always aware of the great strength of Gurdjieffin the region

of his solar plexus-the region of essence, of 'I-am-negs', of will, ofbeing.

In my own way, because ofthe efforts I had made I had become awareof a growing strength in the solar plexus, an 'I-am-ness', so that I wasbetter able to cope with myself and other people.

When I arrived from Paris with the parcels from GurdjieffI wroreto Madame Ouspensky and received an invitation to Lyne. She gave

ro8

Ouspensky's Group

me tea in her own beautifully furnished room. In vain she tried toconceal her delight when I opened the parcel for her. Then slowly sheunpacked it, savouring each item, sorting them into three heaps. 'This,'she said, is for Mr. Ouspensky, this for my helpers, and this for my-self,'

After tea she asked me about Gurdjieff; how was he? What was hedoing? What did he say? I gave her the picture in detail as far as Icould.

On my next visit to Gurdjieff I told him what had happened,and on each of my visits to Paris I took back three boxes. Each timeI took one to Lyne and with Madame went through the ritual of un-packing; afterwards I related in detail what Gurdjieff had said anddone.

When they moved to Lyne Place I had suggested to Ouspensky thathe should let Mrs. Howarth and my wife teach his pupils some of thedances that Gurdjieffhad shown in the demonstrations. He agreed toconsider it. Some of the pupils came to our fat in Hampstead and wereshown the obligatories, and eventually classes were formed at LynePlace. Much later, there was a big 'do' at Lyne at which some of themovements were shown. I very much wanted to go and was somewhatchagrined to be told that it was not possible. Madame had decided topunish me, I gathered, because I would not tahe an ecdve part in theirwork.

Ouspensky again asked me to join in the work at Lyne Place. Therewere various activities and he suggested that t should run a smallprinting press they had, which, being a publisher, was in my line. Apartfrom my not feeling 'at home' therc, it was physically dilficult as

it was a long way from our cottage on the farm near Redbourne, towhich we had recendy moved from London. Most of my free timewas spent with my young f"*ily and our smdl Gurdjieff group inLondon.

In addition to Ouspensky's groups Maurice Nicoll had a group ofovcr a hundred at Amwcll in Hertfordshire. In 1935 our own group inLondon consisted of some twelve people. tn Paris with Gurdjieffwerca few Americans, English and Russians and in New York the scatteredremains of Orage's old group, about twenty.

Outwardly the life at Lyne Place had a resemblance to that at thePrieur6. Inwardly it ryas di:ferent. There \rras no individual work onpupils as there had been with Gurdjieff--nor could there have bccn.

r09

Ouspnsby's Group

ffere-yas no famrly life there, no children. One missed the patriarchallife of thc Prieur6.

Quspenslcy gave only one cxercise in his groups, as far as I couldgather-ttopping ttroughts', which was itself a part of several exercisesgiven by Gurdjieff, For mc to have worked there would have been likegoing back to school after having been at university.

Once, after the usual talk with Madame on my retum from parisshe.said, 't.&t'r quite understand what you ger from Mr. GurdjieffTell me, what is it you get from him?'

It was difficult to formulate blrefy what I did get but, after thinking alitde I said, 'Mr. Gurdjieffsays things to me about myselfwhich hit *elg!tt-- my feelings, in my essence, so that I never can forget them; andlitde by litde the_effectif to changc something in me and live me moreunderstanding of mpelf and other people; ar drc same tinie it is accom-panied by a realization of how little I actually do undentand. Mr. Ous-q*\y "pp"+

to my mind and I'mnever tired oflistening to him. Butthis doesn't change things in m)'self, I think I can say thit I get morefor inner work from one lunch with Mr. Gurdjieffthan from-a year ofMr. Ouspcnsky's groups.' She thought for a moment, then said, ,yes, Ithink I know what you mean.'

I continued with Ouspensky's group, once a weelc, while my wifewent to Lyne Place oncc a week with Mrs. Howarth to teach the move-ments. Although I enjoyed meeting and talhing to the Ouspenskys atLlme Place, I began to find the group meetings

"i the house in-Warwick

Gardens more and more unsatis$'ing. The work was too theoreticd, tooone-centred, intellectual-cenued; and often I would leave with a feelingof emptines, of cmorional hunger. Even our own smdl GurdjieFgroup of tcn people was more satisfying.

Maurice Nicoll invited us to his place at Amwell in Hertfor&hire.we went once or trn'ice and were impressed with the quality of hispupils. Mn.-Howarth and r-nl wife showed them sorne of the'obliga-tories. Nicoll was an unusual man and it was a great pity that he had luthimself off from Gurdjieffafter only a four months stay at the prieur6in r9zz. But Nicoll was able to atrract people, good material, forwhom perhaps Gurdjiefftideas, and even Ourpensfy's, were then toostrong.

-Gurdjieffwas the centre ofa school of objective teaching, an esorericschool. Outside this central point was the circle of the ofier pupils ofGurdjieff then, sotrrc of their pupils. Outside this again werJth-ose in

IIO

OuEensky's Group

Ouspensky's gr-olps; then Nicoll'! pupils; and so on. flhe ripples in apool widen and become weaker the farther they gct fto* th. centrc.With p-owcrfirl ideas, the more diluted, the- more people areattracted.

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III

ar r'rs rrMB, in ordinary life the effect of the Solioonensius wasbringing about increasing'tension io io** b.i"d;-";h^l'"" ir, ifr.newspape,rs there waslitde bur news of Hitler's #M;;rA;i ;;;r,in{t}*derings and themassacres of stalin. rh" $;;h;';;;",in full blast with tens of thousands of peopre of the same countrvin-{ulgingin'massreciprocddertoctioo'1"fiird;;;;;r;il'J;r,that were to follow in Europ-e and Asia. t',.borr. was affected bv thetension but chielly the peoile in Germany. trtr"" J.r"".i"l e;*were at work on the olanet: Nazism, Communism

"od W"rt * C.oitdism. I saw somethiirg of N-""ir**hJr,lJ*, *o fiends, _u #feand I motored to Aus*a. When *";;"J;;ffi;.J,,,;:l*;

11to GermSy it was like going into a vast open prison. The intensiw of

'oe generar negatlve emotion stirred up was oppresive in the e*treine;the hotels, cafds and restaurants *.r. p.-"iia *irtrillil;

chief features of German behaviour, ioog"o." and serviliry, wereblatant-arrogance of,those in rurifoim, ,.iltif ;i,h.^;di. il.friendly 'Griiss Gotr'I had known ua u"* r"pr aiedbyrh..;;'.;;*;gupraised arm of 'Heil Hitler'. I talked ro *riy ,ri-li";f*pfr.'ffi,knew war was coming and were afraid.

. Gurdjieff said that $Sliyh are sheep, French don-keys, Americans

lft:l Germans jackals.-The wolf is ii fr."o*"Ub #"*I, i;-r"L.,what he wanrs, and you know he is coming. With the jackJ;;;;;;,Fo*.. Ifyou are

"ft"id, he will

""""ily""i'Uut if you beat him with abig sticlc he will fawn on you.Munich was crowdedr-Th9 only rooms we could find were in alarge hotel, Jewish, and the whole

"tmosphere was one of disturbinsnegative emotion, of fear arrd ro.ntmerlr. O" g"i"g ;;, ,hil;:

ro-aing we noticed that dl the cars of the residirr.'rrr* rrlr.ilr*iahai^t'* tyres {efatgd; ours,.forrun"r.b.;;; io "

g"r"g". i;r;;;;as ifan hpterical e4plosion might break l,r,

"i *y moment. Germanv

was a lunatic asylum, its people govenred by madmen. S"*" k"Jr,lr2

r3

FCRTUNE TURNS HER WHEEL

Fortute Turns Her Wheel

their sanity but they were helpless against the power of the strongnegative forces caused by the pl*.t".! tensions.

In Austria there was still something of the old Austria I had known,and when we returned through Gerirany it was like goi"q U"raioroa prison; and to cross into Belgium*even Belgium-;ar rft..r*i"gout of a:$i"g room into the fresh air. It walas if th. Coar,i*iogdestroyed Russia, had resolved to destroy Germany *d *.r.'-Jiogthe Germans mad.

. Gurdjieffsays thal men are only partly to blame. Cosmic laws arethe cause, bur man, because of the ab-normal life he h", ;;il{b;'h;-sel4 is also g'eady to blame , and is responsible fo, tt

" t oirorr;i;oJ";

y3. LiF is becoming more- complilated, more srupid, *"r; ;;;_tylrg ptysically, emorionally and mentally, and the only remefiesolfered by our elperts are more money, more psychot"gy;o;;J;;_tion, more science, more government, more ittlrti.rr'rJrtiri"*r, ;;;"poison sprays, more injections, more drugs_everyrhi"e Urt ii"i"common sense. 'we are threatened with another food, a iood o?'th"false values of pseudo-civilization which may drown "ll;h;;;;;,an ark.

- W9 haye an ark, in which we can take refuge from the {lood. The'teaching', based

-on ancient objective knowledie, i, ;d.;;Jl ,hi,

alk-.lepreserved the seeds of th"t from whici'";;;;;;civilization could grow.

The life of a man is similar to the life of the earth on which he lives,wigh its heat and cold, storms and earthquakes, oases and deserts. Deaceand plenry,.struggle_and qrga$rs 4owra h. h", hir"pr;il;#;ht,strivings, his runs of good luck and bad luck.

My 9wr life, after thg Frlst )vorld'war, as regards ourer conditions,up.to the.time of Orage's death, had been, as f hL" ,"iJ, "r;;;;i"as it possibly could have beeryn-w1ls -rt rirt

"nd spirito"l.; ffi;;;

endless opporrunities, some of which I had aken, thrigh rkr. h"Ju;;filT-fr", F:"g_h sheer lack of understandt"g fi ;tJi;;;;ralrrd to protrt by. h *y case, outer liG had been full ofinterest, withreal friends, a wide circle of acquaintances, and the **rt.l;;;_tion of family life . But alwap, inside me , from the tim. ;lA; W;;;;"ldlrf suffedng..Not just-mechanical suffering, b.rt t[r. pr;J;;;;rhe teelings which.is part of the suffering that has to be borne bv a[,'vmg beings. In this last, since meeting Gurdjieff the sufferins wasnow not completely wasted, I could use ,6me ofit fo, *y "; t*'d;_ment. And this made all the difference : I had a cenrre Jrgr""iry *i"

I13

Fottufle Tuns Her Wheel

real aim' * can happ-ar that when a man is losing at that in outer ri*is regarded as. good-mouey, comfort, prop"iy_hi, ir_., liL i,growing, developing.In outer fife existence became more and morc dilfcult. Three milrion

people in England alone werc living half-starved "; A; ;[,'ifrif.

L:l:: :il being destro-ycd and fiimers were b.i"gp;l;;;;;._,buslnesses were going bankrupt_everywhere-_broLil by th" b*ki"g,rI*.*. ours began to.get inio difficuities; deprived

"f 6..*"ilrtaIrterary advice we madc mistakes. Trouble also began *itt%* U"a_

9:*Iy'j?1, * ftAianJcw, who li""i U*."Olrr, *i ""*pr"""aotthe norsc of the piano and the children. One Boxing Day he irrt th"

bailifts in, our rent in advance being onc &y overdui fr.ii"e'rt * ,otum us out. The banks wcre shut anl I trad no ""rrr;

l*lir'o ii""ii.athat the bailiffcame from my village; *" h.J L"-*;, ,h" ,;*"tir""rand of course knew

"rr"ryoo". So, ivhile wewaited;dl d*;;;y

for yy 6ther to sendthi c"sh, w" "h"tt.Jfb.r*rfv, *a f";;;"

much useful information on how to deal ;rh h"fi"r;; *a.i"ilin ,*li"!, up tg noy, fortunateln I have rroi n".d"d. N"it"*lnIuri,episode thc landlord paid mi to move, *i;;;;;;;ffi;;h"country.

. we enjoyed the life in our co*age on the 6rm near Redbournc. Thebotl "q"

fi1 and eight, went ""h a"y i" a school in nrrf.fr"**a

run by JJen Greene and his wifc, seven miles away; Ben was a brotherof Graham Greene. My parents rivcd ten "tir.t

J*"y *i *" i.iiaf*r in the.neighbourh-ood; so for nearly three years we were able touve a-gooct smple country life.

In business wc suuggJed on. publishing firms were closing, anddire*ors from three air."*t publishingGuses came to us for iobs.But we were on the way o,rt ioo, "nd

ioon h"d;; .1";;;;.thi,was a blow-fust because it was the most intcresting l*io"r, f l"abeen in, and second because I had to ;i*" ,h" d"'lfi;;;f ;examination at a credirors'meeting; in thc procesr.fa"d";;;g;*yself-lovc and vaniry received,om"?rw i"rl.

I did not know then that if wc *di i""" held on we would havebLn yved by the demald for books o"."rl*a bt th; ;;;. Ni;;,with the economic life of the.co.-r.y gr*i"jworse every week, I wasyylle.to get work of any kind. atiait -y"a**.ffbrk;;;;_.lll|t * 6:r:O in the ciry, which t h"dil"l..pt. So here I was backrvnere I had begun at the age of sevenreen in condition, .li* ;. ;uessential nature. Again the-siruation h.d ro*.tlri"g ;il;;"ri;i

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Fortune Tuns Hu Whcel

'recurrence'in it. The frctory was five minutes wdk from the originalone in'\[/ood Street, where my 6ther had started the busincss in i8go.I-was right back in conditions and early associarions of my branch ofthe Nott f"*ily. I wasn'r resendul against my fimily-I i"lt closc tothem; I was resentful of my having to go back into the hat business. Itwas as if I were going down and down and for somc days I was in astate of anguish and dcpression. But the organism, if one dbes not giveway t9 despafu, can surprisingly adapt itself to srrange conditions; andafter the first few weeks in the business, (which on three occasions Ithought I had left for ever) I pulled myself up and began ro try ro ex-tract as much as possible out of an unpleasant situation. I cven becameuseful to the business, and when, a few months later, on the recom-men&don of a fiend I was offered a good job in a big publishinghouse, I refused it. I had becomc interested in the factory i Ul"a Aimen and women who worked there and I was free. And again I feltthat I-was working out something of the pattern of my life, repairingsomething ir *y past. I was reminded again of what was said aboutmy horoscope: 'You come under the infuence of Satunr. Saturn is acold hard planet-but a teacher. Every time you think you have got a

lnoye on you will be pulled up with a jerk. All through life youwillfind yourself coming rurder the infuences of Nott, of your family,negativc infuences, but you will work yourself out and in doing ioyill learn. 11 Alchemy Saturn represents lead, and from lead is pro-duced gold.'

I kept in mind Gurdjieff's saying that one musr pay for one's exist-ence, fulfil one's dcstined lot, repair the past. One cannot escape thepattern except by working it out-but consciously, which I tried to do.I4 like Brother Lawrence, we accepr a situation which is displeasing,and remain collected inside, we not only save a lot of nervouJen.rgy,but we can use it for our own being. Srother Lawrence calls it 'thepractice of the presencc of God'.

Not long after I began anew io *y father's hat 6ctory, I had anc_xperience of 'the timeles moment'. I had got on my usual bus to theGctory, The Times wtder my arm; and as isat down a strangc fcelingcame over me, as if I were being fillcd with power and light and under-sganding, but mechanically I opened The Times and began to read, andthe power or whatever it was, disappeared, leaving me feeling sophysically sick that I thought I was going to be ill. I pui the paper downand tried to recapture the feeling, but it had vanishcd. A[ dayl thought

IIJ

about it. Th* I ,""^,?#,T,Ii:'#::,K"experiences r had hadbefore and I redized that I must arways srrive ro '*"Lr ,u"l*;k; ;;rernember myself at these momenti, b" "*.r. of them *d l;; th;power flow in, and experience a few moments of real .oor.iouri.o

-

"^-n:ld":tt the way that life-the sequence of evenrs_was going

tor me, I came across some more sayings of my grandfather, ,"lvi"g",that come from life experience which, iione;,;;.*b;;;ffi;;be useful. But one forgets. Among them were the following:

The mill cannor grind with warer that has passed.One sound blow will serve to undo us all.

-

Would you know what money is? Try ro borrow some.In time, he comes whom God sends.He who deceives once is ever after susDect.A man of understandi"g *ill not fret ibo,rt wh"t he cannot have.No sooner is a temple built for God, than the Devil builds a chapel

hard by.Many havg regretted their spoken words more than their silences.A wise and understanding father is better than a hundred ,educators'.

Y\"1 God punishes, hi first talces away the understandd. --

T" h1m ttrat will, ways are not w"nting.Good craftsmen are seldom rich.Be sparing of praise, for all are fickle.Don't give Perer so much that you will have nothing for paul.Fine words dress ill deeds.A fool can throw a srone into a well that a hundred wise men may

not pull out.Everyone thinks his sack is the heaviest.God is, where there is peace.Great force is hidden in a sweet request.Emotiond love makes a good eye iquint.Only the wearer knows wh"te th. ,Lo. pinches.Health without money is half an ague.The shortest answer is in doing.

a

He who olfends never forgivei.llhete is truth in astrology but our modern asftologers carurot find

rt.Three things are hard: a diamond, granire, and the knowing of one-

self.

r16

Fortune Tums Her Vl/heel

Discontent often arises from our wants rather than from ourneeds.

He who is dways complaining is never pitied.You cannot hunt two hares with one hound.He who marries for love with no money has nights ofjoy but days

ofcare.Three women make a market.One of the Chincse characters for'quarrel'is two women under one

roof,,Though laden with gold an ass is still an ass.

A fault denied is already doubled.He who is occupied with what people say about him shall never

know peace.

Time went on and I was beginning to get esrablished again. 'We werenow living in a tiny flat in Gondar Gardens, Hampstead; the childrenwent to the Burgess Hill School nearby, and weckends and holidayswere-spent at the cottage in Hertfordshire. In spite of the depressionand the stnrggle for money, my personal relarions and 6mily IiG, thecontacts with my parents and friends, were very satisfying.

One Saturday in spring I drove to Houghton Regis to see a friendof the family, a wo,man, partJew, part Gipsy. After tea, during whichI talked about my difficulties, she, as usual, took out her cards and said'I'll see what the cards have to say.' She tota *" to shufle th"m in

"special manner, went through her litde ritual, spread them out in aspegial way and began to tell me various things, all, as usual, vaguely.Sqddenly she gave ajump, and said, 'But he'll get over ir, he'll gei overIt.

'What do you mean?'I asked.'It's one of your sons. But don't worry, he'll get over it.'I had never taken fortune-telling very seriously and in a day or rwo

forgot it. Then, about a month later, one beautiful Junc evening, astrange ft9li"g came to me that something unusual was going tohappen; whether to myself or to someone else I did not know. t wasin an emotional state and resdess, and to a,woman who was stayingwith us I said, 'You know, you can have no confidence in life. younever know what it holds for you,' and more in the same vein.

The catastrophe happened next d"y-* accidentn in which ouryounger son aged six just escaped with his liG urd was permanendy

r17

)).

ir

'i);)

I

Fortune Turns Her Wheel

-crippled. The circumstances were such that we seemed ro be para-

lysed with.grief; and I understood how people .* l*. th.i,,;;r;; ",die from shock. Fortunately for the boy, such is ,rr. r.riu."".;?;.

human.organism, especially with children, in a few week, h"-w",ld1n*i"g again, and riding his birycle with an artificial leg. hr timehe learnt to ride

1 pony:

" *otot-.y.le, ro drive a car, ro ,"il] to d"n..

and.to do everything that a fulry Lquipped man can do. He becamestroke for a crew at St. paul's Schooiarid- then at th. rh"ro., noJ-gclub. But all this was in the future. Axd in tt

" *.*J*" *., ir,

parents, sufrercd. t thought about what our friend had seen in th. r".dr.She had seen or rather felt roT:q"g. through ,h. *"dir*;i;ypresence and the cards. But how? was the acciJent fore-ordaineailr"ashe seen it in the panem of our son's life?

I remembered Gurdjieff's accident but could not make clear to my_f.lf .-hy such things hippen-not the outer obvious ."ur.,-L"i rir" ,""thidden cause. The real.causesof the thing-s that happen lie deep in our_selves, in our past, or in combinations oiinfo*.i* But whyi

No wonder that Hassein in Beerzebub's rales, though he neJer doubtsthe fact ofjustice, asks, 'Why?.'

, It happened thatJane Heap just then was going to see Gurdiiefi andI gave her a small sum ro gr.'e to hi+-fi" giatitide'L"id. Sd;;;;;,'I saw Mr. G. at the

"p"rtm.ot and told lim

"boot ,rr.

"."i1."r "raF*: ry* your gifr, l"Ili"g him you_had said it was ,,io gr"J;i;,i'aIook ot sorrow came into

!fo "y.t and hesaid, ,,Why

gratiiude ro me?,,I said, "I don't know". He looked thoughtful and,nJrr'r"ii, ;i, g""i,'r,good."

As soon as I could I went to see Gurdjieffand found him in the caIEde la Paix.I mentioned the accident *i h" said he h"d h;;;;;lTrd legan to spgalc about preparing for the future. I was in roo emo-tional a state ro listen quietly and f,e very soon got up and went uo-stairs. whcn he returned he said, 'you Lave bu-siness ,o aoi' i,"ii,'My. business is with you.' He said, ,I go now. you come to lunch.,'lhere-were two people besides myself. There was rittre talk and assoon as the med was finished he sent them awan beckoned to me, andyT,t T. the sitting-room. For a few minutes wejust sat quietly, thenhe took up-his hand-harmonium, and keeping his eles 6*ed o" ,,,, *irt,a

lo.ok of decp compassion and power, Urg"; to pi"y

" ,impl" i.f"J"

wrth strange harmonies, repeating and repeating yet all the time witircunerent combrnarions of notes. Litde by litde I became aware thathe was conveying something to me bofi through th" ,oori.J.

r18

$

ii

Fortune Turns Her Wluel

combination of the notes-and by thc telepathic means which heunderstood so well. A change began to take place in me; I began tounderstand. something, and a feeling of conscious hope and consciousfaith began to displace thc dark hopeless depression.

The music went on for about ten minutes. When hc stopped we satwithout speaking. Then I got up and took his hand and said, 'Thankyou. This is what I came to hear.'

A healing process of psychic wounds had begun, and I returned toEngland in a very different state of mind and feelings.

Two things I discovered as a result of the disaster. One was that un-derneath the suffering of my organism-the instincrive, feeling andmental suffering-was something calm and unmoved-the kernel ofthe essence, where objective conscience lies, pcrhaps. [t was the sortof feeling I had had many ycars before on one of the hellish battlefieldsof France, when I thought I was going to be killed. In times of acutesuffering the personaliry-the oufward manifestations of the organism,can be stripped away, and in the quivering mass of suffering

-ss.nc",

objective conscience, whictr can perceive life so clearly, is uncovered, andsomething remains calm and undisturbed among thc whirlwind ofgrief or suffering: the still small voice.

The second thing was the real goodness and compassion of myparents, of the Ouspanslcys who had sent their own doctor, and of allour friends. Not so much by what they did-though that was not litde

-as by their attitude.Children can forget scars, physical and emotional; with parents the

emotional scars remain.

I19

A TASTE OF BUREAUCRACY

A Tastc of Bureaunacy

it was as if I were hit with a palpable and harmful force, and I realizedthat it came from the negative emotioru of these hundreds of peoplewho had left their homes and their near ones in Germany and werenow in London, apprehensive, resentfirl, and fearfuloftheirfuture. Thenegative emotions of despair, fear, hatred and bittemess compressedin this confined space made the atmosphere tremble with harmfulvibrations.

Even before I met the Teaching I had the gift, in certain conditions,of seeing into people, especially when they were in a statc of hate withanother person and trying not to show it. I could see, howwer muchthey tried to disguise it, the inner change taking place in rhem; some-times it wes so unpleasant that I would try not to see it. I was, as theyused to say, 'psychic'; which is nothing more than a normal essence

reaction to the vibrations of people-which many children have. Andnow, in the process of discovering more and more ugly things io *y-sel{, which formerly I would have shut my eyes to, I became awarealso, of being able to see other people through and through; and it wasonly by keeping in mind the fact that I was like them and they likeme that I was able to be at dl impartial. I was coming to the stage when,no longer able or wishing to deceive myself I could not be deceivedby others. I thought ofthe story ofthe man who, when a person lookedback at him over his shoulder, saw the person's inncr life in all itsugliness; and the experience became so painfirl that at last he went tolive on an island by himself; and so that hc should never by chancelook over his own shoulder and see his own inner life, he never had aloolcing glass.

r4

Nor LoNc AErER THrs, because the economic IiG of the country wasgoing down, my father's business gor inro dilficulties and had to bereorganized, and I was out of a job again. For three months I workedwith a government organizations"t op to hclp the czech refugees whower.e ?ouring -into

the-country, feeing from Hider. This was-my first(and t hope will be the last) experiencinot countins riG in thc armv-of working-for_an olficial organization. The head if *y r.ction w"sboth shrewd and stupid, a vain man who resented any sugiestions fromthose below him, and wasted time and money on.treleJJs"hemes andplans. _Yet my colleagues were congenid; they had learnt to accepreverything he said without question. As long as one did oo, ur. o#,mind for thinking all was well. The vaniry aid selGrove, the stupidiryof some of th9

-po*., possessing b"i"gr-";; rh" ;;rll;;";:il

governmenr and municipal organizations is often incre&ble; the wonderis that public life goes on at all.

YI "*prtience reminded me ofthc story ofthe man who was furding

it difrcult to think things out and went tL a doctor to see if there was

f9p.ffig_1rro"g with his head. llhe doctor examined him and said,'{.y:".*S lgave ygur blain with me ['ll go over it carefully; you cancall back for it in a few days.' The man agieed, left his br"in, .nd w.ntoff. Time passed and he did not call. ^f,fter some weeks the doctortclephoned him: 'You know, I have that brain of youn. Aren'r youcoming for it?'

'Oh that,' said the man. 'I don't need it now. I,ve got a govemmentjob.'

In govemment, in politics, in big business and law, real feelings andrealthoughts are not only not nec"ss"ry, but often a hindrance. i ,o*needs only the formatory apparatus.

{l *otk with the organization took me one day to a large housein Bloomsbury_where the;ewish refugees from Geimany *"i" irrt"r-viewed. In the big hall crowds ofJews were waiting. When I went in

r20

itll

l:

!1.i

rll

i

rN JUNB oR JUL' of this year Madame ouspensrcy became verv iu. andwhen Ispoke about her io oo.,f th" "ld;r't;pili,

-il;l, .;lrt;*,we've done evervthing we can.

.We've haditre best advice we can get,

but nothing.th.tir-doi" b;;;";h-;..;it "aa.a,

,r,m qoinp to-rellyou somerhing, which m"y "ppra-,

,"ih., ,t *g", 6";;;-#r;;1.me your word that my name rhall never be m.ntioned.' o

I agreed to this, so hc continued, 'r'm convinced trt"i-rnry one rnancan do anything for her.'

'Who is that?'

f-o *-y astonishment he rcplied, .Gurdjiefi''Gurdjieff!'I said.'Yes. But he is not the man he was. h he?,'How do you mean?''wdl, I understand that after Essentuki he lost touch wirh rhe source,

11d;1nce,the accident, which impairea U, *i"a, h" h;;;; i;;;;;;

Eeacrung.

. 'tTr, of all,' I said, .I,ve agreed not to discuss him with anv of vo'but this concerns Madame's-well-b.l"g, ;;;,htr';,'.Ji ;id, #;

.to$e an-angement. I ag'"." with you ,fi"rfrri, ,lr";;;;; ffiihelp. As for his not bein! the ryn he *;f*ill say that hc is e;; ;;To:. r?. He also is perfecting himself and is doing it in his ;;;.il:::llT-1. "1:*"q as some o{r9u seem to thlk, oo rh. ";;;;;in$ N absolutc saniw_the saniry of objective reason, However. leavin,

*;ilroo do you tr,"n it *oid u. pi,iui" r", ffi;J,J;';'trJ::

'No, she could not make the iournev now-,'[ wonder if he would

"o*" irr"r.]-'See what you can do,'he said. .I,ll do what I can, only I must ask

,yj:^1g_T,t:g11:;1:/"* word that you will not mention my namern connectlon with it.'of course I agreed. In paris I told Gurdjieff about her ilrness and

r22

War

about how she always wanted to know everytling about him, and

:,3il"ry^l',d:ls,*{ teaching; and r totd i,r* i,f,"-o*p*rlytpupil had said, rharhe, Gurdjieff was the onlyperson *fo .oola ijtydo anything for her.

'ffit can be arransed,'I said, 'would you com€ to xngland and seeher?'

-^ *,[r:*:d gravely and. quigtly, thought a little and then said, ,Ifpossrble I will come. But she also must make elfoft.'

.--l-:il-!* " $3s at this time rr,"i ii",igri;;-;ry long before r*o"Ji see Gurdjieffagain. Hider *., ,.r""*tg fo, *"i *J"M;rr;fir,twas rhreatening us with his 'eight milrion bay6nets'. c*aii.r*rura1?l Tt*o my question about war stgting again but,pot"

"bo,rriotauowug oneselt to be carried away by mass psychosis, that we must:dI".r? deal intclligady with whateveruito"tion _igirt

"rir". Wh.;

I asked him what I could do so far as the work was concerned he spokeagain about the role I could play and what I.orldd;;th;#J;"groups; ifnot now then in the future. He also ,p"[" ;;; ;;;;"#;nlte way lbout the horrors on an enormoos sc"l.^that ;";;; ;;;t"pla9e. when war did come, hc said, it *oodi. { *rty-ti";. riirr." rhad said good-bye *{ y"r standingon thrp"**"rrt outside the apart_ment he leaned out of the windowLd "g"i",p;il;i;;;;h;fi;,do.

_ It was nearly six years before I saw him again, and much longer before

lrcould play q: part p the work that he had indicated. yct ii all cameaoout eventually, and rmexpectedlv.

, 9":pl*: for getting hiri to London came to naught. After a sooddeat ot ffouble arrangemenr were made, and more Jr* t*o o, Ihr."people were excited at the prospect of seeing Gurdjicffat tyne place;

9:j, " ftI days befor-e hi,

"*p.ctcd arrival fi rood"oo *", dr"k";;;.

Lrtc again was turned upside down. rdadame ouspcnsky srowlv eotbetter and larer was ablJto go to Amcri*, -f.*;'-*i,;;i"il,she ended her days.

IJ

WAR

In the last year of,^

,o.rh" Iu3 year-ofp-eace Ouspquly,s meedngs were held at 46 ColetGardens, alarge building with; halto se"t fi.,i hundred "."i.- rr"*

seat five hundred people. Hcre

Trr":." t: stage wittione,of the oH";p"pit, ;i;;;Jk ffi#;r,and -was -even more the philosoph", -*ri"ioJ n;r;;;iil;

f,:*.# *:::etings riere .rd*d"d, *a rfr"'o*r" li r."r.ir.ir"rynush-hush restraint was even more marked.

A demonstratioa of some of the dances and movements that Mn.

War

lo**4 and my wife- had been teaching was given at Colet Gardens.ouspensky announced bd.{y to the

"idi"o"i that the d;;;, th"yy:"ll be seeing had been coliected by some of Mr. curdieft;upils.The demonstrarion was most impressive and it seem.a

", iirt

" "*i.Jir",an{ dang might bc the shock needed to bring new rife i"to tt "

*ortat Lyne Place.

As l,have said, Ouspensky, though he was not teaching the Method,neveftheless wa1_giving a thou-sanl people something fir"i ort.*ir"they never would have got, and t felithat the time *iua come whenmany of them might wish to know more of Gurdjiefft i*"r r.""Llng.

, ult.

"r,:o of,t;n

frapnens on this planet, just when something good is

about to flourish, it is overwhelmed by negative forces; it witi.rr, orhas to struggll t9 keep alive. It seemed tfiat iurdji.ft-', ;;J ;;i;;*dlsappear; and the negative force was war.

. Gu-rfjieff in Paris, had.been kept going in a modest way mainly bythe old orage group of abo"t tti.ryt NYew york,,lr",r"l"ff o#".fAmericans in Paris, and a few Engliih pupils*a fraction of O"rip*rfv;,thousand. Only one or rwo Fren-ch rieie interested.

The general tension increased, everyone sensed and felt it. vet everv-one.hoped and tried to believe thatit would oor "o*r.-i;;;;;;could do Tytj1gjr could have done anything r .t*g" rh".;;.oj.evengs. Gurdjieffhad said during the Fiist world war"that ,Evcry-thing is happening as it musthapp.o-J So oo*,

"rr"rrt io* **h"o-oJri,

f.it t"rl happel The causes were not in Hitler, Muiolini, $ri;;?Chamberlain, who wcre mereh puppets thrown up; yet each rcore_sented the bad and stupid in thi p.opl" they ruled:'rii'tl.r rh; ";i;;ticism in the Germans, their

"oolaoce,'brutality, ,*ri;;;Ji;selFpity; Stalin, the cruelty in the fussians, their #ltfib;;;-;;;r.off.ti"g of others; the holiow pomposity oi,t

" rrdi*, io M;r;;ht.

the avarice, spite and vindictivenis ii the French ch"r;;r;l;;;;;$.lpug-".r1, complacenry, hypocrisy and dull

"opiAry,f A"-i;;iiil

in chamberlain. The lowlst *d *ont in each,i." #"L.i"";;-f""1 Ir the opening- phase of the desrnrction ,t

", *", io foUS*.-il,

r conrf srill agree with A. l. Or"g", that thc X"gfirh are the best andmost intelligTl p.opt. in the world, though this"w",

" gr""r;;-;;

on tne rest of tlre human race.Having-lived in America, France, Germany and Russia and visited

twenty other countries and studied their wry of life I "* "ilI J rh"

t24

rpq"," \t t$rngrish ar9 the *Ilt**rent people. yet, when oneconsrders rne llte ot man objedively and impartially one is oppressedby the terror of the rituariori.jt I yg walking d:1v1 9l*:.ry Lane to see philip Mairet in the

ofrce of The. New Engllsh Weekly ] {opped by a group ifp.ople lirten_ulg-ro a rafio: it was the o.*, of th. Ltsion o"fpoilrai

" ;;;;"

of the news of over a-hunlred yean before: .N"p"f."" f*-.r-;l;;.Nicmen'. A litde {i*ther down the sffeer a man lias pinning to a boarda goverffnent *oT."TTt about preliminary preparatiins for de_fence, asking those who had no pr"tirg business in London to leavem! So,to the,country. A-y-oyrg wornan was readirg it. We looked ateach other sadly and I said, 'It's come then.' 'yes,'-she said. 'At rast.'rnere was noleeling lTong people of being about to staft on a qrearadvexrt're as there had been in r9r4; no thrill of cxcitement_oiu *1IT,1:,t: "of

a1 approaching grear catasrrophe, Iike " ,l;*t;;;r_wneimrng nood or an empti"g volcano, thaj evenyet might calm down.

At this time I was by.q'sd?in the eje"rant h#; diffiil;;;T

Hi*prr:ij the yeai before; *y wi'f" *", ;" France seeing Gur'diiefftne two children were staying with fiends in &fferent p""*, oi rh"_"1*t y. In a few dlys we were together again, not in the fiouse burinure-cortagc near Redboume. Everyone e4peaed Iondon to be bombed

:1t:nl""y:t", urged ro lea.,e. Se *.r.ioo o""r, even ar th" ,ott.g.,so when a friend wrote offering her house in Dorset near corfe casfiewhich seemed far enough

"*iy, *" packed our movables in the cart{, q*i"g 1 wide d"to* ,frgrSh High wyco-b" *J Th;",ytirs by-roads, mised the exodus"fro*LodJo *fri"n n"a;;ebegun, and got easily to Corfe Castle

The house loohed over thc downs to Kingston, and there was enoushland wirh it to.keep gs going in oegeabl.s";J;;;;;;. #"1?ll:,T11"

or less, ada.nged oun.l'i to orrr ne#fife "ia

i **"irrr"ivplanning to do what I had long wished-talce a small-holdioe th"i"Td.gg* food, and I even loofed eagerly 6;;;;]"- ir;;;*H: t feg of pleasant anticipa?ori -"a" i"*i;;;; ;;anothcr feeling$9 began to fow. ioming

"lr** * A.i,,fr"J"*r:and before we ldt London I had found riyself ,hlrkl"g;l;;;N;;Yor\ in t *ly rhar we somerimes fnd'ourselves rhinkins about*"p1" or places lorrg before events connected with th.tt,

"o-""to p"rr.

,r n:q9ughts-ald tedings associated with New york were

"."o*ori';.d:Ili*g:"f dejection gdalmost repulsion for that city, though th"r.vrxs nething to account for this since dl my associations #rt N"?, vort

t2s

War

had b_een use{irl and pleasant-Orage and the group, Gurdjieffand thefirst demonstrations, and our good friends there.

One morning there was an announcement that Chamberlain wouldmake an important speech on the radio. We knew what nt portendedand scnt the children to play in the garden so rhat they shodj nor hea!.After his speech we sat talking, and the elder, aged nine, came in andsaid, 'It's war, isn't it?' How often do parents thinl they are cleverlyconcealing facts from children, when all the time the children knowi

England had declared war and a week later we heard that planswere being made to evacuate children to Canada and America. ,qft",talking things over, my wife said she thought it would be best for herto take the children to America; it was natural for her to wish to retunrto her native country, especially as our jobs had vanished; there shehad her relations, and the children would be safe. My feelings wereagainst it-a real love of country, ofparents and friend.s, werJagainstour leaving England but, reasoning calmly I saw that it would b" bestfor them. I subordinated feelings to reason, and this time I was right,though I did not rcahze it until much later.

As soon as the decision was made that the family should go toAT"ligl, there began io *y solar plexus a dull ache, a pain; what iscalled 'heart-ache' (the solar plexus being what w" c^ll 'heart') andthis was to last for nearly six years.

- The nex day I climbed the sreep downs above the cortage and walked

along the ridge and sat by the three ancient barrows. It was a day in oneof the most beautifirl Autumns I remember, clear and bright

"ni warm,

with a thin gauze-like haze, which went on for six weeks. To the north-east was Corfe Castle and the wide stretch of poole Harbour withBadbury Rings in the distance. To the west the steeples or towers offive village churches, to the south Swanage and the bay. I thoughtabout the war and wondered how many hundreds of tirnes in the lastfive thousand years of our history, from the time of Avebury, hadreciprocal mass destruction come to England. How many times hadmen felt as I was feeling and had watched their old life being brokenup! Even in our own times had come the Romans, the Northmen, theAngles, the Saxons, the Danes, the Normans-killing, destroying,burning. The French had tried to come and now the Girmans wouldtry. From where I sat, on the ancient barrow, men had watched thefight_between Alfred and the Danes in Swanage Bay. So much 'glori-ous' history, soaking the earth a mile deep in blood- Each time an old,and often good, way oflife had been brolcen up, and each time men had

tz6

Stucly [-Iousc Plicuri

da&ffi

War

built up something new and often worse. And now again a way oflifewas going to be destroyed by what Gurdjieffdescribes as 'rhehorror

"f \"tr:l in the great universe' that runs like a scarlet thread throughall the life of man on this earr"h-war.

The countryside of Dorset and 'Wiltshire is littered with the relicsof a once great civtlization whose centre was Avebury and whose'Rome' was Ancient Egypt-a civilization ofwhich we know nothing,Future generations may contemplate the ruins of our own, wonderingwhat sort of people we were, and what was wrong with us that our'great' civilization came to nothing.

For twenry years the threat and dread of another war had been withus and now: 'the thing t feared has come upon me'. Each day thechildren played in the sun and each day I would say to mysel{ 'Anotherday over, 9ily " few left.' 'When the day of sailing airived early inO-ct-ob9r I droverny family to Southampton trying not to show signsof the heavy load on my solar plexus. I watched them go up the gang-w1y anj-disappear into the ship, then I wenr away feeling th"t

" ph"i.

of my life was finished, and I forced myself not to think that I mightnev-er see them again. An instinctive emotional type like myself

-an

suffer too much and unnecessarily if he allows himJef to be a prej' tofeelings and thoughts. Yet unless one does have an instinctive live fot

"44t9" and 6mily one is nor a complete human being; the difficulty is,

while having this feeling, not ro allow oneself to be completely identi-fied with it" The 'animal' instincts are sometimes spoken of as beingunworthy of 'human' beings. We belong to the animal kingdom andhave much that is good in common with-animals-mating and love ofthe yonng. Le my sheep-farming days in New Zealandl ised to listento the tender note in the bleat of the ewes for their lambs, and was sur-prised that such a silly creature as a sheep could be so near to humans inthis respect. All creatures love their ycung and care for them until theyare grown. An Italian writing about his experiences in Africa relatesthat he-saw I lull elephant uamping along trumpeting with rage; hewas followed by a small elephant, and behind this child the mither,who at intervals gave the child a whack with her trunk which sent himsprawling. Each time that he picked himself up and went on she wouldgive him another whack, ignoring his cries. The natives told the writerthat the young elephant had been in the habit of running away fromhis parents, and they had had difficulty in finding him. Now they werechanging ground and punishing their child for giving them so muchanxiery.

127

I

I

I

Putncv School bclow zcro

Ptrnrcy Sehuol Srrulucl

War

As I drove back to Hertfordshire I realized how deep was my needofjrome and.familn how much t needed the patriarchi rife. '

--)

i.g:". up the plea*ant house in Hampstead anid stored th. fr*it,rr"-yt:l was destroyed later by bombs. with the things at Redbourne IlTo:11::,gq: o1

,th" Chilterns l."j Uy friends, iear their country

l9or:. r shyed turst with-my parents in Harpenden and later with thesefriends. I still occasiondly went to our,*At gro;p i" ;;i;;*; r,OHpTtftt groups, but London seemed like a"city a*"iti"g i.rt oltio,-blacked o-ut at night, sand_bag prorecrion everywhere. Ii Hvde parkthey were digg--g trenches, some said for shelter from bom*, othersF"! s.y were for the future burial of the thousands *ho *oid ,oooh kflh4. Never 'us'; Nature prevented ,us' from realizine th" p*ri_bili1y-of onr o.wn death. yct -the

idea of death ;;r-;;;;r;;h*;r,T{ fir may have been the reason why people *... UJ*i*irrn ,oteer more tor each other, to have more essential relations

-with Jach

other.My-fiends with whom Iwas staying beronged to one of the old and

great familiel.q Englanf; theyweL iot ;chi,rt ".ry

*dlod-ifr.yrepresenred all that was besr and most liberal in Engrish lif.; ;; ;;r"as much part of the English soil as landed aristocrats-as my people wereas yeomen farmers. Because of this I had always f"lt "t.iri;it-;;;and fclt somgthing in common, whereas I hai never f.f, *"rfri"n ilcommon with the moneyed class fike Chamberlain, th. C;;;;i;,:j,1" pseudo-intelligentsia. As an American said "u""i*y-iri.J,"lhese people are the salt of the earth.'

At dinner one evening I was speaking about the vagaries of fortuneas regards myself. A few weeki befoie I had been'in .o_o"r"ri".a{1enc9, Iiving an interesting and varied life, *d oo* ilr"l-".irrrirr"-neither home, nor family, nor work, nor money, and was tryirrgotod:r:: a polnd a week. 'It will be the same with

", pr;t;iiij&;;

said. 'Ev_erything is breaking up, all our social lif.; vor'ri. e;#: M" igoing, N. is-going,' and so on.

TEven if we "re "lirr.,

lif. *fi ;;;f;;h"same. 'war

destroys everything; rhe mosr we shal be able r" i" *u-L"to begin, like the ants when thcir nest is destroyed, to build up something qagain.'

,. $ ftde later they gave

^ !^fl,a hundred and fifry people in the large

fau. {veVole seemed to feel that it was the last th"t **y of u, *ojdhave here--ttre Iast of many such gatherings, but there was neithergloop nor forced gaiery; *i *. rio,rt ro"*.yoy ourselves. It was intact the Iast time we were all able to foregather-. Many were arp.r*-,

rz8

War

some were killed, and others, including my friend, our hosr, died beforethe war came to an end.

Life for me became like a dream, but a bad dream, from which Iwoke only when I visited the group in London.

For three months I tried to get a job, but during the phase of whatwas called the 'p\oney war' there wer. none for th-ose oier forry-noteven work on a farm. flhere were still over two million on th! dole.Then I heard fr-om my wifein America that things were becoming very$fr.tr::"i they wanted me to join th"*;

"ni again came tfrJa"ri,I yfsel{gf *Tqg to stay in England and wantiig to be with them.In the end lapplied for a visa and after a great deal oitroubre was givenpne, and with borrowcd ryoney bookeJ e passage on a Dutch sh-ip.

_ - I spgnt thc last two weeks- in England wittt my parenrs. Again, the

idea of repetition was brought homl to me, for f b.e* to exieriencethe sort

.of-feelings that t had had long ago when in-th" ,"*e .,ill"ge,

ll the old house just down the roadll Ld b"* waiting to s"il Fo,Tasmania-feclings of depression and homesickness at Ieaving myparents T4.ll the associations of my part oflngland. As then, ,Jro#,I counted the days 1od woke each *otning with"the feeling of 'anotheiday gone'. I th" last morning it was-alirosr the same as-trre last dayof twenty-five

-years before w[en, with an ache in the solar pr.*us, i

had said good-bye to my mother and father.

*'!r*i6i

*f

#"&l'sL1'J*

ff$u

I$i#

#..,i'

r29

BOOK

AMERICA

I6

NEW ROCHELLE

ar rIrB BND ofJanuary r94o I sailed from Southampton for New York.For luggage I took just necessary clothes, and the two quarto volumesof Beelzebub's Tales in typescript bound in buckram.

As we steamed into the Channel pa$ The Needles I kept my gaze onthe shifting land until it faded into the dusk of the winter afternoon;and the words of the Victorian ballad came to me: 'shades of eveningfall not o'er us, leave our lonely barque awhile. Moming's gleam willnot reveal us; yonder &m and distant isle. . . . Isle of Beauty, fare theewell.'

The ship was crowded with Dutch and GermanJews, refugees likemyself fleeing from the wrath to come. There wcre not even enoughseats to sit on, and the atmosphere ofnegative emotions, the continuousdin of raised voices, made it the most unpleasant voyage I have had.

As soon as I arived in New York, although glad to be with my familyagain, the dream-state which began with the war became intensified,and was not eased by a bad attack of fu, with a temperature. It wastrarelve years since I had left the ciry, and everything, for the first threeweeks, except my family, seemed completely strange and unreal. Walk-ing down 4znd Street in a snow storm I found mpelf saying, 'Am Iredly in America? This must be a dream. I know I shall wake up andfind-myself in the house in Hampstead'

This partial paralysis of the faculti$ was the effect of the variousshocks of misfortune which began with the death of Orage and cul-minated in the shock of war. I tried to remember Gurdjieffi warningabout not letting ourselves be identified with the generalmasspsychosisand, about three weeks later, woke from my state of dream and beganto take stock of our situation with a view to getting established. Yet,had it been possible for my f"*ily to go with me I would have takenthe next ship to England, so strong was the urge to be there-this long-ing, which never left me until, some years later, I did rcturn.

i::cl,;li1:!

IitlI'l\,

J,

New Rochelle

Our situation was similar to that of refugees through the ages.especially in Europe since the First World War. Wc had one roo- io

"lodging house in New Rochelle, kept by a pleasant woman whosehusband had retired from married life and left her with four children,one of whom went to work, the others to school, and helped in thehouse at weekends. llhc other lodgers were an electrician, a truck driverand three nondescripts. [r was a rambling house with a large kitchen inwhich we all took turns to make breakfa$ ar the ancient black gascooker. The house was heated by hot air from the cellar, and smelt ofanthracite gas. There was no refrigerator-there was no need of one,or even of icc in the ice box, as the kitchen was always cold; there wasn9 qashing ma&ine, and hot warer for baths only occasionally. It hadthe deficicncies of a cheap lodging house in England; the differencebeing in the furniture, fixhrres and 6ttings, which were AmericanVictorian, like in the old silent fiLns. And we, as a company, could havebeen characters in the setting of a comedy film of thJperiod. But thepeople were friendly and we got on well together.

'\Ve had almost no money; tho"gh my wife made a litde by teaching,but t forurd it impossiUe to get a job. There were over seven millionpeople unemployed, 'on relief', and I, being nearly fifry and notAmerican, was unemployable. So, while the shops were fulloffood wewere usually hungry-for two months we never had enough to eat,and for the 6rst time in my life I knew what it was to be half-starvedand worried on account ofthe chil&en; hunger always gnawing at one'sstomach. Only on Sundays were o6r stomachs filled, wherwe haddinncr d$ -y br-other-inJaw who lived not far away, and whichjustsaved us from rcal starvation. 'To have too much money brings care,to have none brings grief'

llc bop went to the public school, a bad change from the pleasantBurgess l{ill Scbool in Hampstead where they had really enjoyed learn-ing. This was a huge education factory of six hun&ed c"hil&en, mostlyof first generation Central Europeans, who taunted our sons witllosing the'tMar of Independence in which 'our forefathers fought yoursand beat them'.

9o. evening in late February while I was reading to the chil&en inbed we heard a noise like the report of a gun outsidi, then another andanother. The cracks and reports continued, and I thought it must be abatde berween rivd gangsters, but when I peeped out of the window Icould see nothing. The rcports wenr on. After i time I carefully opened

r34

New Rochelle

the door. A fine drizde was falling, and as I looked out there was a loudreport and a branch of a tree suddenly crashed to the ground, thcnanother; and I noticed that the tree-lined road and the gardens werecovered with 6llen branches-the fine rain fa[ing on them had frozenand the weight ofthe ice had broken them off The nex morning it was

as ifthe place had been under gun-fire, the road blocked by boughs and

branches.The month of March passed hungrily and drearily. 'We saw one or

t'rro old friends, who unsuccessfully tried to get me a job, and I wentthe round of the book publishers, with no result. We went to oneparty, it was in Orson'Welles's fat in New York, where the main roomwith a gallery was as high and big as a baronial hall. A corridor leadingout had been painted to resemblc a London brick alley with a pub atthe end. In onc of the bedrooms a long mirror was placed above thebed. There was every kind of wonderful food and drink for rwo hun-dred people, and I managed to sesrete quite a lot to take back to ourlodgings.

Towards the end of March my spirits got lower and lower. I began

to see that I must make a big effort to get money, and the only way toget it was to ask for it. TheJewish refugees were being he$ed to findjobs by their organizations and were given money to tide them overbut there was no organization for English refugees. Wc had among ourfriends two or three rich women, who might have given us money,but my vaniry, self-love and false pride rose up like a blank wall everytime I thought of asking. In early April, with the coming of spring,things were so bad that at last the resistance of my negative attitudewas overcome by Gelings for the welfare of my 6mily. By reasoning

about it, I compelled myself to sit down and compose letters to these

three rich women. For a few days after I posted the letters I was ontenterhooks, wondering if they wordd be offended, and what theywould think of me; when their letters did arrive I could hardly bringmyselfto open them. I could have saved myselfa lot ofnervous energy,for the replies were not only friendly and helpfirl, but the letters con-tained cheques and fat ones too. The change in our condition was

incredible. From the direst poverry we were now in possession oe forus, riches-a weekly allowance equal to hdf what our fellow lodgerthe truck driver was earning. It changed our lives. The first thing I didwas to go to the Super Market and buy food. From this time every-thing changed. llhe effort I had made did a great deal for my psycho-logical state; also, from this time we never lacked the means to get

I3J

New Rochellc

what was reallv necessary for thc pranetary body. As so often with realefbrt-not oo" thiog cha$es Uoi.o.ryrfiiog:l*go f#;;;.is also in oneself and peoplJfeel it "rrJLrpood to it.I was able to buv

".!ig Ch"yrt...orrrr.i"ibl1u1yr"r, old for {zowhich, withpetrol'a,hilft;;;;ii;;;;'; of d5 ayear, co,tless torun in America than a mini-car"in E"sl*a.

*ftw*x;1lf '#*'S'5:',nm,:ri{*ffiTt;::.J*:judll'he1g curdjieffiad UJg.""p *..rf"gs. only people who hadmet Gurdjieffor orage were in--vitei. Even so, .we were able to send aBood sum of money,iubscribed by rh.

".rdi*.., to Gurdiieffin paris.Meanwhile bad news came from Err"p.' rrt. injr#r"i ,rr. ir.lr.r,were being beaten everywhere bv ,h.'cL.-J..T""::::"_,:Tanother;:':,;"-L;rh"-N;;ih;d.,.iri':iffil'.:l'*::ry?iffi

been in twenrv ve"i, before.,ril;; to i.,1" r-tgp to tt. ,yr*rririogofEurope by o". *rio";, ro, ;il JilJ* hiliJ, #;;##i-The Communists in Americ" Iik. thor..rr.ry*here were a.oo*?iogthe war of rhe'imoerialists anJf"Jrrr'*a;"rd.";;;, *i*afor having "tt"rk.i Tghry nr"r"-"rin* the Nazi-sovier pa* wasannounced ir was as if the bommunists had'i-een;ilril;:;:;:rt"y

were. stupefied, not a word was heard. Americans returninq from

ffi *"lffi :'#f, s;H*rln*lm;mg*:,"lij$;r$things seemed at their w-orst and the bomiinf u.g- r'i""ar";il.;(or.something in me knew) rt

"1 p"glT,J*irfa?J;;;, ;;,an inner convicrion. A l.*.Td nieidly attiiude t.g;;;;;;;;;h"

Americans towards the xnglish; o"t -iJrori*es gave them that brendof satisfaction and wish ,it+ ,t"r."" na, "r'rh.

;;;;";;"fiend one envies becaus, h" s.imr;" i;;;.rhi"g,h;;;;;r.Neither Hider nor the Americans

""a.r"orJ,rr;;dfr, lt., "ji,not understand whv England would oo, *L. peace. No one under-stands the Engli:\; other nations have thoughithey did and have alwavsbeen wrong and have paid for it. The ,..i'oo r#;;;-drd;ffi.i_I** it simple: the English do not.*j.rrt*a ,fr._r"f".rli;: ,liel_1glt:-h,1""","

hdly til.r*." . ".* i1.., even when rhey don,taccept flrem; drey are easy going, and will put up with "ll

kindrlf "b,rr.for a long time; Lut *hen ,1.1, ir9p"ri.ji"" Ar they will turn on rhetg::j.:::l.j g" Tor ,b \""..;i;him a thrashing

r ne news trom Europe intensified the ache in my solar pleirs. It wasnot the illness of the feelings ."["a-"oriJgif **Jl;; i;q#; fb;r36

New Rochelle

something in the past, but an ache for one's narivc land, like the ache inthe solar plexus from love emotional. It is a kind of disease of the emo-tions. As I met and talkgd- to people-French, Norwegians, Durch,Danes and others I found that

"l*ort all the first geni,ration of NewAmericans were suffering from the same thing. ,fira hter, when theGermans invaded Russia, the Russian-Americins caught tire sickness.

F " t\"p-q New York where I was able to get real bre"ad, blaclc br."d,

instead of the white blotting paper which g"oes by the n"me of bread,

I talkgd to the owner, a Ruisian-- He begant speak about nusia andhow.he_longed to be back there, and th! t."r, d.g* ro Ao* Jo*" Iri,

-.}:.kr: I said, 'But you are an American, you've f,.* f"r, *irry y..rr.

Yhy dq you feel like this?' 'I don'r know,' he said, ,I've

never iai, Ut"this until this war and now I lo,ng for one thing, to be back in ;y;;d*co13try.' An American friend to whom r rp-ot. about it said,"I can't

'n{erstand this, I can'r understand *hy *yooe should be so iientified

with their country; I've never felt this for America.' yet when theAmerican soldiers went overseas they too became infected with theillns55 sf fiemssickness, the longing for their native land.

what is it in life that often causes a run ofgood fortune to be followedby a ryn of bad fortune, or a run of bad luJk to be followed uy ,"" "rgood luclc? It has to do with the Fifth stopinder in the law ofthJ octave,that which causes the unexpectednesses tfrat give us shocks in order thatNature's.p.urposes may bafirlfilled. Life pJh"p, is relatively safe andcomfortable-only when things are fifry-trfty. iift fo, *., *hi"h, fo,sev€n years had been a struggle against ill-luck, had, as i h".r" ,"id,l"g"o to change. Forrune h"l beg,; to smile and even t f""gh g;"jhumouredly.

ii

r37

r7

TALIESIN AND THEFRANK LLOYD WRIGHTS

ro co BAcK a bit. In May 1939 we had had a pleasant surprise-a notefrom Olgivanna Lloyd Wright saymg that she and her husband werein London and would like to see us. 'W'e had not seen her for ten years;it was ajoyful meeting and we talked far into the night. She inviied usto a series of lectures that Franlc Lloyd Wright was giving at theR.I.B.A., and we were given fronr sears with her. The lecmie roomwas packed, people dmost standing on each other's heads, mosdyy-oung men. Buildings, their shape and form, their proportions, had

{ways 1ry9re1ed me and I found'Wright's talk exrraordinarily srimu-lating, full of ideas based on sound common sense. Films were shownof the students working at Tdiesin, the Wright's beautiful estare in'\[/isco_nsin, and I thought how wonderful it would be if t could packup and take my f"*ily and live there for a time; but a visit to Taliesinseemed as remote as a visit to the moon. 'Wright, from his Welsh forebean had inherited the Celtic imagination and eloquence, from hisEnglish half the gift of improvisaiion and practical application. These,with his inherent genius made him one of ihe greatesi architecs ofourtime. The aufience listened with all their attenrion and at the end theapplause, as they say, nearly lifted the roof,

We went to dl the le*ures and had many talks. When they left forParis to see Gurdjiefftheyinvited us to stay at Taliesin. I thought, 'yes,in ten or fifteen yean perhaps; most probably, never.'

Happening-to-gg to Paris on business I telephoned Gurdjieff'sapartment and asked if t could go to dinner. 'Yes, yes. Come,' iaid aman's voice. When I got there I was pleased to find the Wrighsarriving with their young daughter lovanna. There were also somi ofGurdjieff's group of women.

I expected and hoped ro lisren to Wright asking interesting questionsand hearing the answers. But he behaved rather like a brilliant under-

r38

$;4'

Taliesin anil the Frank Lloyil Wrigh*

graduate, and it was clear that of the ideas he understood nothing. Heseemed to regard Gurdjief as having achicvcd almost the same level as

himsel{, and even knowing more about some things than he, Wrightdid. It is sometimes gratifying to discover that 'great' men have theirweaknesses, their vaniry and relGlove, the same as oneself; and Inoticed that when Gurdjicffprovoked Wright's prickly vaniry, something mdicious in mc had a feeling of mild satisfaction.

During the toasting of the 'idiots' 'u?right said, 'Mr. Gurdjieff I findthese i&ots of yours vcry interesting. I've invented some myself.'Gurdjieff said nothing, and Wright continued, 'You know, you are a

very good cook. You could earn a lot of money cooking.''Not so much as I could eam shearing shecp,' said Gurdjieff.'I've raised sheep,' said'Wright. 'My people were farmers. But I

don't know anything about shearing.'Gurdjieffsaid something about 'difiicult to learn to shear properly'.After the meal was over we went into the sitting room, where the

Wrights admired the glass case in which were hundreds oflitde figuresof peoplc from all over the world, arranged and lightcd in a special

way; really a litde work of art, though Gurdjieff's apartment itselfwasan objective work of art in a peculiar way; it was shabby and crowded,and together with some fine examples of Eastem art there was a gooddeal of trash, small badly painted pictures which he bought from timeto time in the CafE des Acacias, from refugees, whom he cdled his'parasites'.

Gurdjieff brought in a chapter from the Second Series, Tales o;[

Remarkable Men, and asked for someonc to read it, and wenti.out.Wright took it and said, '[ don't want to hurt the old man's feelings' ftebeing about the same age as Gurdjieff) and began to read. Gurdjieffcoming back, Wright said to him, 'This is very intcresting, Mr. Gurd-jieff. ICs a pity it's not well written. You speak English very wcll,it's a pity you can't dictate. If I had the time you could dictate to meand I would put it into good English for you.'

He resumed the reading of the chapter for a time and then said he

must stop as he was very tired and that his daughter was tired and thathe had better go back to the hotel. Gurdjieff said, 'Better stop for her

salce, she is still young and only begin, but you are old man and yourlife is finished.'

Wright got red in the face and said angrily, 'My lif" is certainly notfinished, there's pl.nty I can do yet!' or words to that effect. FIe got upand left with tns f"*ily in what is called 'high dudgeon'. Like every

r39

Taliesin and the Franh Lloyd Wrights

one of us in front of.Gurdjieff 'wrightt mask came off, Everyone,witho.ug eTgeptign, while eating and drinLing with hino ,"rrJJati,.:rpri{ seif. Perhaps this is why so many of is at rimes were tongue-tied; afraid of giving ourselves away.

Not long-after our arrivd in New Rochelle I had written to olgi-varura Lloyd wright telling her we were in America *d th"t *" *o,hdlike to see her if she came ro New york. She replied

"t ooc. invitinj.r,

dl p sgend the_summer at Taliesin. So, herJwas granted th"t f,".pwish of mine, which seemed, only a year ago when Iiad r.* th. filroof Taliesin in London, ro have been absollutely unattainable, and sheeven of6red to send one of the students with a station waggon to fetchus. But I had the chrysler and inJune we pacled up and lei"the lodginghouse of dismal associations and set off{6r the hJart of a,,,"ri.".'-

we sarted in a heat wave which got worse as we went further west,up !y BearJvlo'ntain, crossing the Hudson by the bridge looking do*,,on

the lovely river-where Henry Hudson sailed, then iorrg * oiJi""ry

main road up and down, rather narrow and with ,o ,rJ.p a camberthat we could do no more than thirry-five miles an hour. rt *"rrr.""iry_woode{ co'ntry with farms among the trees that had been cleared two!y&_"9 pl fif"y years before. The road went rhrough the state ofNe'' York by way of Wurtsboro, Monticello, Deposit,"Binghampton,and Elmira-where Mark Twain, and my old frieids pr"x

"ird ciltaJ

Eastman had lived-to Horseheads, painted post, Olean, to i,"k"Chatauqua. At Wesfreld we struck the road thar runs

"lons rh, ,hor"

of Lake Erie, having the idea that for a hundred miles or ro"*" ,t oJahale a magnificent view of the hke; we saw the lake bur once, bymaking a detour of some -rl*, *i the way was fat and uninteresting.In Pennsylvania wc went through the country of thc pennsvlvarri"Dutch, the oldest German setdement in America; these people 'rr" t^i,with yellow hair and aninteresting rype offace. 'we

also ti* lrr. a*iri,a strict religious sec whose men *"ir broad-brimmed black felt hatsand long black beards. At the town of North xast we crossed into thenorthern tip of Pennsylvania, at conneaut we entered into the ,t"r" ofOhio, to Painesville and Oberlin.jd y"r cheap travelling, for we stayed at tourist camps-collections

olpi"r..l huts usually ple-asantly-situated. There *"rJdro pt*ty ofnicelo_oking houses with'Tourist'signs up. For 7i cents .".L *"'sotgoodsleeping accommodadon,-and tli pl"".r were llean and the peolpieneighbourly. For food we cooked our-breakfast in the

"p"rr, "tid tira

r40

Taliesin and the Frank Lbyil Wngh*

sandwiches and fruit for lunch; and managed to ger a full meal in theevening at a roadside 'Diner', where the food was usually only justeatable, and the coffee as bad as English boarding-house coffee, thoughusually good at the drug stores in the towns. The towns all lookidprctry much the same-witJr tree-lined roads and attractive woodenhouses widr open unfenced lawns. The shopping and business sectionshad litde character, while the industrial sections were like those be-tween Birmingham and Wolverhampton-dreary and desolate. Andso, on to Fremont, Bowling Green, and Napoleon to Fort lffayme inIndiana, where we came into the corn belt, hurdred mile after hundredmile of Indian corn on fat prairie counrry with white farmhouses andbig red barns in endless repetition; the litde rowru so much alike, as ifthey had been mail-ordered.

It was in one small town that we met an example of what is knownas American friendliness. I went into the locd bank to ask the way, andthe manager, an untidy young man with a jolly face said, 'you'reEnglish, aren't you?' 'Yes,' I said. 'Why, say . . . Hey, Bill,' he brokeoff calling to-a customer who was just going our, 'here's an English-man.' ''Well, how are things over there?' he began. 'My, that was agreat thing you people did at Dunkirk.' He plied me with questionsand was so good natured that I really believe he would have asled us allto lunch and got the rest of the townspeople to meet us. t might cvenhave made part of our expenses by giving an impromptu leciure, butwe wanted to get to Wisconsin. The people we had mei on the roadsofar had been almost as reserved as the English are supposed to be, andfar less cordial than French or Russian peasants.

In another small town a few miles furthcr on we saw for the firsctime that familiar sight in America-a girl drum-major, a good-looking,suapping )r9ung woman leading a brass band of men and boy playeri;she pranced ahead whirling her baton with a broad fixed grin on herface. My wife thoughr it was rather symbolic of the way in whichwomen take the lead in America; I was rather embarrassed.

The heat had been like a hot cloud sinking down on us, and thoughI wore a big straw hat I could not stand in the sun for more than a fewminutes without feeling sick. It was a fierce heat, the night even worsethan the day, for it was too hot to sleep. But this was arordinary heat-wave, and,h.y l"y that in a bad one cows and horses sometimes dropdead in the fields and fowls 6ll dead off the perches. Later on in tlieseason there are tremendous storms, and winter is as cold as the summeris hot-bitterly cold, with 7o degrees of frost. The climate is likc a very

r4t

Taliesin and the Frank Lloyd Wrightsemodonal Derson_sometimes hot and raging, sometimes cold andhard.In thi! fierce.d;;;;;;;rff;'.;., quickry. rn wyomingthSr say they have

"ight *ot &, il; ;; four monrhs cord weattrer.For rwo davs we drove ove*rt" n"r pt"itie of Indiana and I'inoiswhich a hundred years.ago \Mas grass, bufLloes and Indians.In some of the'small.; .;:-il l;;r., and srores which werebuilt in earlier times_ h""", rd;;;;;;;;

l_;?,*ilil#i'uyo*u"i,,*riJ*#,Hitr-fi f i::f il:r::and more important. These '6lse fronrs' are ar<ind .ra.E"".lgJ*r,and defiance "e

a" rirrirr.r, p*t;;;;;;, they could not h"vf b".ofor onrament.There were no r.oad patrols lihe our A.A. or R.A.C. In England,

;::I'JT"'1ul1rTjy;:,*H::;;i;'ru;i'rJ,','".J.,,yhr':" E"srt ;''; d"i6;ffi ffi ;- #f:[:i;H#]:il:llffit"i#ry leave it and get io tot'"i Jti

" g.r"ge-prrhdt;?;ry

Much ofthe scenery was,obscured and spoilt by enormous hoard.ingspleading with us to U"y *h", ;; h"d ""

t; for, planted there by themen from 'ulcer cq;h' (Mrdir"" A;;;;f Ni#*y;;;;il*nothing is of value unless it can b.;r;l'{b;;

g-,i,1's{,";-il;p"i,,torui'oJ;;-;;1:Tlif, ,il,ril#?;lilas though a llight hadpassed ;;;il;: ri-** "Jrrr*;;'#;,countrli and the people y:r, o: longgr friendty but looked at us,strangers, almost withiuspicion; it w"rihe our., friog"r;i;lld;the second largest and *;t*::;i1 ;;: united States. Theieat

Fr:*,:H:i5fl ,::"T;:"*:,"8H"H"#,j;$*..::il jjpleasant town built on the rh*;-;i *l i]t"r. Here we rested in a

;:11ir*"*cof,eeroom ofor,. ofth" iot"rl i" ,1" *,i;;;;,io-oi! Iish;J;r#;ndfir1,1t*tn portrait or qu""" ?ioo'i'

In wisconsin I fert that weiad indeed left the Eastern states behind.Here was a dif,erent and nicer "r*orpi.o-\i" *"r" a thousand milesfrom New yorlc and felt the bemer d;];:-o* thing we nodced aboutthe differcnt stares we o"rr.d throulnidlir.igi *e towns looked muchthe same, the houses ior..orl.rr:in;;:ile people wore the samekind of clothes, each state had r"

"*-"*"roh.r. and its own accent.Perhaps, in five or six hundr.a y-.rr;i*.,"rii a-.ri.an sbtes will beas varied and interesting "s

the countri"s of ELrp".r42

1:1

*.T;.,1'r

..t{, '

t{i,1...it,l

, :.,1i'It

Taliesin and the Frank Lloyd Wrigh*

In a drug, store where we were having ice-cream a group of peoplccame_in-a boy and girl with theirparen-ts and a few frl"dr; it,i.r ih"y"dtg reception of the young .J.tple, who obviously hajjust comefrom the registry office. No one seerned to know *h"t to io .*..o,drink coca-cola, so one ofthem turned on the radio from whence cariethe noise of a crooner,-his unearthly voice moaning stupidities. It wasratlerpitiful; a kind of automation'wedding

".r"rriorry.'I compared it

y4 fi: peasanrs' weddings I had been to-in pre-soviet Rusiia_thelovely singrng in the chuich, the vodka, *ith" folk dances aftlr-wards. This was one of those marriages which are no more th"n mopeople g^erting a permit from the

".rthoriti", to sleep together. This

permit, from an official who may be a rogue or drurri is iecessarv. a,otherwise th^e cgyn-le would be living in ,;in,,

and, according ,o ,J-.,in danger of Hell fire.

.__wisconsin captivated us. There is a lyrical qualiry in the Indian name''\ilisconsin', and the places had lyrical naincs-Black Earth, BlueMounds, Arena, Mazomanie, BlackHawk, Lone RocL, Twin bhrff,Dodgeville, Friendship, Fairplay, Forward, Endeavoui, Dickeyville!One could. make a poem out of them; and the number plates on thecars carried. the inscription' Wisconsin, America's Oairyland'.

I was again reminded ofthe Russian who said to me: ipart of Ameri-can life is sometimes so unlike what its press, its movies, its radio andp"!I" speeches_lead me-ro expecr that,'ihen t do see something that isreally new and unusually good, I can hardly believe it.' srih wasWisconsin. And more so was Taliesin, Spring Green.

we arrived in the a{iernoon, and drove up the long ascent to thehouse where some of the pupils mer us and ?ook o, J.,r., the hill towhere Mr. and Mrs. Wright ryere tatking to a group. Olgivanna wel-..o*:d.us.warmly, Mr.'Wright, in hisllue ieret^and howing bluecloak, looking rather like an actor, gave us a casual nod and walk"ed on.This was just an act; later he was always very friendly.

Duy_rg the first two days we did oothirrg but w*d", round accom-panied by onc of the pupils.

_. T"!",h,. 'shining Brow', is a thousand-acre estate settled by Frank

Lt.y! Y.tighCs _\[/elsh grandparents on his mother's side ftii 6ther

was English),inlovelycountry ofround tree-topped hills. A ioil. "*"ybelow fowed the wide 'wisconsin River bor?ered by ,tretches o'f

primeval forest. In the distance were high hills with rocty bluftl. partof the esrarc was a 6rm--canle, pigi hrdian corn, bah"y, grrpcr,

Taliesin qnd the Frank Lloyd WrighumeJgns, vcgetables and.fruit of all kinds. The land fowed with milka$.!onef and, above all,-with

"he"se; *a pf*ry of *io;;;;l.r r.gladden man's hea*. Thebuilding; ;.F;" styre of architecture I hadnever seen and the'gavg me a sde ofpreasure and wet-being that theruly beautiful, ,,.iu"*J;il, ;;;;;'dffi They were oo, nio.ri*rt,not coloniar. nor cooies,of *yrhid bot

" rr.* kind ofarchire*ure-a

break with tlre o"rt'", definite "r;;r;;;earc of the Tudor with thcGothic, and the^Gtorgian with rh" Tr;;r. %t, like rhem, it was in thetradition, for its rootJ were in the past. And ;rt;i-*"rlir*g. ir"rrr"r,although the sryle of the b"ilai"[, *"r11 d;tb#,;;i"";rr.modem than thl modern, th. .tr?i g";; sense of repose rhar oneassociates with mellow old buildings ii t,r-p.; ,1.r. *l* o;;__*harsh vibrations that come from il;;a;'*"1.-"""#Jila_industrial-militarv ba*ack ryp. .f *"fril.r*", n" grt";;;;."_hives of our time.

Every day something new, some fresh aspect in the views, delighedus; and the landscaoe rias that of - tt"li*'orasrer_paings1.But all this withiut th. 'lif"J;;;il;;:en no more than a loverypicture. Here, the energy,of forry

".r fifry t"o,,g p;;8, fi:;;;y

fld1.aa.tt towards

" rJ

"i*, proao.i"'ratisfying feeling of ,crea_

. The place was run as,a-{ellowship_,The Taliesin Fellowship, underthe direction of Mr. and Mrs. rr*i rrryJ#;;il ;; "t"{

oill"roproduce an organic ardritecture i" *,;6; ffi; ilffi;;;;?",to bring about an orqanic-state

"f to.i.ryl** and women must beein

ly. I"i"g a. three-foid lif", " lif.

-J-ir"r.l",Lf ;i ;;l#o,l"ii.feelings and the mind. rheir f..r;;;;;;.*ti pf*r.i ""t"."1aand they must be able to- use thei, harrdq A*. 4ri-i;l; ; "pd;"the things ofthe feelings_11sic.,3o.rry, p-Jirrriog-, and so on; and theymust be able to be interested in id""r, d" icL t" think. This three-fordactivity-gave the place an exffaordinrry oit"liry. * was a real architec-tural school, in which t{e pupils tilj ;rh e. il;;,';ilil'fi,them that if thev wished

1i i.rig ir*.'r?.y must also be able ro

l*irf*r*eir'own h*d,, to fo;;h; ["] of thc materiars they

The Communitv consisted of the Wrights and their f"*ily, youngmen and *o*.olro-e married, *o 3, ,:rr-.. working carpentersand a man to loolc after the *gol", *ork oir:i. r"r*, and some visirors.The cookine and waiting "'t t"ble;;;;;tt;;ilil;ffi::

helped in the g"ardenr ""a "i,

rrr" r*-, JrJ#rrr. rractors, trucks, road_r44

Taliesin anil the Frank Lloyd Wrights

gradcrand so_ on,-while the women did the washing and ironing. Therewere all kinds of modern machinery; and for the-first ti*e Jnce wearrived in the u.s.A. I saw a washing machine and an electric ironer-the last being- the

_oog io my brothJr's house in England. There was

dways a good deal -of

repair work going on and ""#

Uoilai"g, goiogup; new materials from the manufacftrers and pre-6bricatej'"iticlesw€re constandy bcing tried out.

on one hill was a large group of buildings growing out of the hill-side. Here were Mr. and Mri. ftight" livin! {uarterr,"rh. dir,iog.oo-of the students, ofEces, galleries, siables, bairi sheds, and some"of thefiving quartetr. q9*l the slope and over the hill a mile away wasanother gtgop_ of buildings-the draughting room, the the"t e,

"rtp4gty:-*d other living quarrers. On anothir hill was a windmill, ahind of beacon,

.a yery hi-ghslender wooden structure with a prow, ov"rwhich the wind from the terrific stonr* passed harmrcslf rre roofof the

-draughting room was so light and graceful th"t yo., felt youcould lift it off with one hand, y.i rtrong inough to ,t*d the gleatstorms that sweep over the Middle West.

- 4r t9 human beings, it would not be possible ro meet a more delisht-tr *{ Tr.-ryg."Igroup of young people anywhere; th.y *.r".J,rr-geous' hdplrl and efficient, there wai something about them which was'younger' than those in the old world, andthis:youngness'gavethemarp-."i{ kind of charm, and it did not have the outer sJphistilation withwhich 'educated' Americans in town so ofien .orr", tir"i, adolescence.llhis 'youngness',

_this poteatiality of American youth to learn, givesthem geat possibilities; ar the same time it leaves them somewh"r i.ir^T reg_ar4 to rhe enormous world outside America-a world which,though they may know it from the outside, has an inner somethinswhich eludes them. In general, compared nith furope*, il;;;:-ar-e

adolescents, and they have the inexp,trienced adoliscent attitude tolife and world affairs.

At Taliesin, the rising bell went at 6.30, breakfast was at 7, and at,z.3o all wenr ro their various tasks until lunch at midday, wirich w"susually brought by truck to some part of the estate, where we ate out-side and listened to Frank rloyd wright talk. on wet days lunch wasin the theatre, followed by music ot rittging. After tea

"t fi.,r" there was

often-a choir practice in one place and an oichestral practice in another;and the pianos, of which thJre were several, *.r" gloiog all day. Aftersuppgr at seven we met at one another's places or stufied somethingor other. Very often before lunch we welrt down to the Wislorufi

r45

Taliesin and the hank Lloyil Wngh*River and bathed in.the.co-ol warers, for the weather was very hot,or'cr roo degrces in the shade at times.

on saturday aftemoons the visitors arrived, well-known men andwomen from variou-s wdks, or 'runs' of life. o" s-r"ar" rrt.rJ*"r"picnics. About ro o'clock the tmck would set "tr;rheA i,"^r"["*-iog

"o hour later in a cavalcadc of cars t" n"J" io";;h;;;*"

!"tt spot by rocky.bl$ or high hils where meat and potatoes andcorn on rne cob were being roasted. Then back to Tdiesin,-to see a filmin the theatre, to which tI" f*m"r, -d oth", fo""f p"oj" ""_J.

ro,i1lll:.Tl._ll",por on evening clothes and wenf to the WrighttIrytng quarters where, after cocktails on the tenacc suppe, .r r"ir"d3fu biq l.qg:, bcautiful food- and <lrin*, io*o_..1"^iio" ;l ;J"r,k..*9 itr. Wright sitting on large chairs, ,"rf", Ut"

" Lt"g-#;;*

on their tlrrones.

, fr.:" *T pl*q of friendly talk at supper, and when thc plates hadDeen creared, tie choir sang palesaina and Bach, or Negro.Spiritualso.r lnglish and American.pogr, followed by ,hl;1"-;;;;";fi;,*y-g to thg light gf Sndbs ii..", noi thJ"*fy n"giirfr;;;;rr.F* *v wife would plav Bach and Handel on rd"F;;; nir. *ay1;rY5ll,: *tlr:, rovanna the big h.qp- i;;;d; il"i"cnamDer muslc so much-

fift :i_f itL*i+l*;il;.f$H"H*'#"n$;osappearurg from American rife since the break-up caused bfrh" Cirir'War. In Russia ir was swcpr."yy -by

th" ,*olofo; ;t#i;;by Nazism.

Ir i: e.pp:1i"-g i" f"gUira too,

"nd in Cfm i*, ,.**a"aas Dour-geors rmperialistic,. Its fisappearance is paft of the ir.r*a

E*".t"' bt:f-"f of not -only

Westeri'civilizati; il rh; ;;."fi;-rrzations of thc East; and there are signs that in America -a E"si*a-g:tey (or rather, women-archyi i, ,aa"s i* ;1;;;.

su !u5r4'

Taliesin, after New Roctrelle, *", * ""rrt

ti p.rldir", and our sonsbegan to bloom like flowers y"qt*r..d fro-* rt.ril" gr"r"a," g".asoil; it was as iftheir life in Engrani h"d b.g;again but with an added,somcthing yndicd by this:reiv and true.firo.ri"ro way oflife. Thevwith the other childr*,,diq

F.iJ ** i".rf" j.ra*rilrd;ili]s;# +*;,t".;rnl*':# H:$x m;rx ;tt: f,:ff*and study drawing and music.

- ":.h":

t9 faf-for everything. And wq perhaps, by existing in NewRochelle had paid for oui pt rit t tich expeJence. But minions whor46

Taliesin and the Frank Lloyd Wrights

werg fiving in the Bronx, New Rochelle or Hendon or Sydeoham-would never have what we were having.

It seemcd to me that in Taliesin (and other places like it, if thcre besuch in America) lic the seeds of the true Cmerican civilization, a

. civilization that can be of benefit ro the whole world-as opposed totle radio, advertising, filrrs, crooning, t.v., newspaper,'Lusincss,chcmist, drug-aking, poison-spraying civiliz"tion, *iri.l i,

", gr".t

I menace to the good life of our presenr world as was the Firincecapitalist In.l'strialism of the nineteenth century, and thc communist-Fascist-Nazi forms of govenrment of the rwcntieth century.

. fu lrydtopen' spaces gave me a sense and feeling of clation, of

phpical freedomi and there were so few can on the r-oads. One &y,ly"e y* -packed,

and with six cars loaded with pcople we drovethrough rolling counrry, passing fields Gnced with wire Jr snake fencesuntil, when w-eladgone about fifry miles, we came to a place whcre awatefall tumbled down the high rocks into a deep pdol thc waterrunning_offtluough green pastures, 'We were quite Jone; some bathedwhile others made a fire and roasred a whole rhe"p on a long spit, andbaked sweet poratoes and corn on the cob. After i* f"a eain-oor fillwe lay down by the water-side and dozed, while some of the studentssang, inlow voices. The sweer music mingled with the soun& of thewaterfall and the breeze blowing sofdy through the trees gave me afeeling_of pcace q1d contentment such'as I hal not known-for manyycars. For a brief hour we were in complete harmony with ourselveswith cach other and with Nature. Later we played games, then, as thesun began to sink we got into the cars and drove home.

At srrnset on those hot days the frogs began their chorus, a definitetune and rhythm with their croaking which ar dmes was almost deaf-

1un_g, thgugh not in_itating. At dusk the firefies came our fashing

their torc"hes among the trees.llhe roads,-apqt- from the main highways, were dirt roads; in dry

weather clouds of dust arose, and after heavy rain they became rivers ofmud, though they soon dried in the hot sun One Aant n ina the rain,it was warm and refreshing. Mosquitoes and the poison-ivy were rhepests, espegally 4" trry, which exuded an oily vapo*, and the leastcontact with thc shin brought warery blisters with; intolerable irria-tion; some people were made quire ill by it.

A number ofthe farm houses round about wcre built a hurdred yearsbefore, when thc first setders came. The houses were of wood, cool in

r47

Taliesin and the Franh Lloyil Wrigh*summer and warm in winter, even when the thermorneter droppedbelow zero, and r was tord. by one who had ir".J rr, i"g'i# il;:ir."werc much warmer than the English houses in the win[iil;;.liinsulated. In summer the,food ias kept {i.rh i" i;;;;:;;?;""p::U"I;

Some kept it in a damp cloth suipend.d.roi.r;;;;h;;"wrnc bro-\ nng on the croth kept it coor. Those by streams kept foodrn boxes ur the water. But many of the farms were no bigger ttran fiftyacres, tucked away remotely in folds of the hills.

-- --DD--

It was hard to realize that this country a hturdred years aqo was

Itiqi":ril an$.t!at pgople got about i' o*j-.ggoo;_*d ;;;;; ;",lnc[ans were living along the river and that pi,o-neers *.r. O"rr.rurrn ir,Ene[ covered waggons on to tlhe Dakotas and Nebraska.'rhe people in the litde towru and villages were a very good type_the best of the British, Scandinavian and G"ermans, their personarity wasdifferent from the foreigners in New R.;h.U._rh;ilil,1"i;r,czechs. and H'ngari.nr. In wisconsin there was none of the surryaggressiveness that one often meets among some of the ".* a*"i"*,in the Easrern Sates. Even the Germ"is were nor

"f ,h"-;;;"g*,Prussian rypc.

.,-,lf::f* 1"y: yj{ fielts.rn Mryeapotis and st. paul, Minnesota,ltttng up by the Mississippi River. The ugliness and dreariness of theouslness drst'cts of the twin towns were like any other industriar townin the world; when Western man goes inio busines";r;";;;-dustry

-it is as if he breathes

" poiroo!"1

"J,1. lorr. of *il;;:;,root of all kinds of evil-numbs his

".rti.ti, a""rii*, ""i'r",i*t,rhis feelings.

Other friends whom I visited. in Minneapolis had a house as large

fl i::l'j It.I q:'. a pafty where alt ,h.;."pil;;ffid;;";.?.m Europe at a party you gencrally meet some yoong people; and"at acountry.house there will uiually be people of "[ "g.r?i*:hildr;;;;.I remarked about this to a man *lio ,iid, .oh, ,i;;;;*-;;"b;i"h"Ttg a parry to themselves downrt"irl6 ;;#;? firffi:we're too old. The children-are having

" p"rry too, in another part ofthe house.' So I never saw the yo""gi.opt.';r;; lffi**' ""'" "on theoutskirts ofMinneapoiir r'ilii.a "

FrankLloyd vilghrhourebuilt of brick in " tr."-lio.i,o"a, *hiri oc.opi.d'th",p;;;;;

ordinary. cltF lot, but such was- $e ry*-g ;j ,h"l;i;;"r#,surrounded as ir was by a gracefirl-*"1i, i, g-.rr" th" i*prjrrri"" li"miniatureestate; like the sp".iog, th.lirr., *d jirt*..r, th. prooortiorxof houses and courryards in cf,ina.Ir, big;ti;;:r;;;'#J#;

r48

Taliesin anil the Franh Lloyd Wrights

the garden through a wall ofglass; but the heating was so well-designed

-with pipes laid in cemenr under the foor rathei like a Roman hypo-caust-that the house was comfortably warm in the coldest zero weatf,er,and the air did not dry up as with steam radiators.

Next door was a 'modern' house by a European architect, that in itsway was-a good and interesting house. But it looked as though it hadbeen made somewhere in a box fictory and placed in the mid&e of thelot, whereas the 'Wright

house looked as if it had grown there-acontrast to the box and to the English modern brick villas and'desirableresidences'.

I travelled the 3oo miles back by bus. In the Eastern states peoplescldom speak to strangers in buses or trains; like the English tltey k.epto themselves. Bur here a man got in and sat beside mi said, 'i{ellot,asked my name, where I came from, what my business was and so on. Irather resented- thesc persond questions, yet he was so friendly that tcould not help b"t answer him. And when, as soon as I could geia wordin, I asked him the same questions, I felt a linle ernbanassed; but heanswered readily enough and we talked about ourselves for an houruntil he got o-ut._It was late and dark when I arrived at Spring Green andI did not look forward to the three mile walk to fafiesinibut one ofthe men was waiting for me with a car and in a few minutes I was backandin bed. Coming back to Taliesin was like coming back to life as itoysht t9 be, a life not just of money, business and politics, but of thephysical p-, th9 emorional man and the thinking man working har-moniously together. A liG truly crearive, in which young men andwomen were given an opporarnity to actudize their potentialities.

Although no one at Tdiesin had a good word for the British govcrn-ment there was a_liking and respect for the individual Englishman. Th"y$9w tle _lrglish better than the people in the East, for many Britisfihad setded here, and in the early dayra good type ofyoungei sons ofthe-aristocrary-went our to Wisconsin and the Oakotahs andfuyomingand raised catde. Yet there was a strong anti-British, or rathir, antiiBritish Government, feeling, which t had been aware of from the first.lt was caused pardy by fistorted education (of the War of tndependencefor example),-p"ttly by the growing son's trying to shake otif"th"rlyinfuence, and pa-rtly by the inherited malice in human beings, thepr9$sposition to hate someone and blame them for their o*tr roF.riog.

lhe criticism of the British by Americans was that ofan elder rott ifhis father but for whom he has a great respect. One friend of the

r49

Taliesin and the Frcnk Lloyd Wrigh*r[right's from chicago, after a recitar of the crimes and deficienciesof Britain turned to m-e and,"id, ,t;;;" n.*, if..f J;;il*"with a cultured Englishman rt * *"oi" .tr..,'It's strange,' I said,.'that you.criticize the British Empire, which isr"#:rffi*tmk};xlr*'**ffiEmpire happened. [:the English, the Canrand each other in the civil w".'i" *r,irhlore men died than in allthe English wars of the oirr.r..orh ..rrr,rry.i

I was talking with some of the studenrs about my love of Ensland-not love of its conouests, its ,gloryl irrE*pi*, ;;;'fi;;;rf#,;",love of that ,oro.rtiog ;.q3rr'sr"ii;h#t;*.s from the farms, thedoy"l the uplands, th-e clifil, fir.,.", rt.-..ritt"ges and counrry rowns_and of the London in a radius orr*o *it., oF;;;d;^-)

ruwus

one ofthem said, 'I think I know what fo -.- for I,ve read whatyour writers and ooers have. said about ii but-I don,t f..i ;; ;;yabout America, I'rir' tl" fb*rrt-g;.r"i""1*a the last two generations!av9 tiv-ed in_hr&ana, but f .*,ir"yl-f"*'a*""ca as you seem to loveEngland; and after all, the Midd[ *"ri i, ,ro, yer our cormtry. .Wedon't yet belong here, it's ,till ih. ,.J-;;,;-.;;;;. "r"#;t;

;.Eastern states too.,The strange seer, Swedenborg,. sa1,s of_the English in the Spiritualworld: 'The Ensrish nadon, thl'b.ri

"i;i;;, are in the centre of a'Christians, b.."u"s, they have f"r".l"r-i.i.ii,'1-Tr*r,;;iil+'toanyonein*"".* j,i'.,l1,,lillnf,::"if.T;rn the spiritual world. The highest acquire it from ,fr"ir. fii.* .f

iiit.;r;xtff#i,t*n:'J';l;:x*:ffi1.*;;i,'*'ff illl_row1v3r, is not original but d"pendenr;;";;;;;ffiffTirepuration; when such men deiare their opinion, *.iifigii;;;,forth. It is for this reason rh* rh. E;;ltriil *" spirituar worrd ared:d bl distinguished govemors

""d;;;"r,ln whose decisions their ''national characterlead, th3m to acquirJ. Th.'G.r*-r. . . i;;;;*a.despotic governmenr, do.nor ."j;t;;i, of spe.ch and writinsIike the Dutch and E,,glish; ."a""irr.r. ,r,;i, fi;;J; il;;ltffreedom of thoueht is alio.curtail.a . .-. *ffiilr;; il-*;:;freedom of ott.rirce. r* rfri,,."*" C"r-*ri.ry upon records ratherthan upon individualjudgr".nr,

""a r'"i"a..iiey particurarry cultivate

IJO

Taliesin and the Franh Lloyd Wrights

history relying upon quotations from recognized authoritics. Thestate of mind is represenred in the spiritual world by a man carryingbooks under his arms; if anyone questions his opinions he takes on" ofthese books and reads therefrom his answer. . . . Free nations are likestags with branching horns, that roam the moors and forests in perfectfreedom; whereas nations that are not free are likc deer enclosed inroyal parks. Again, free people rcsemble winged horses that fy likePegasus over seas and hills; whereas people that are not free are likehorses adomed with cosdy trappings in the royal stables.'

What he says about the English can, to some extent, be said aboutthe Americans, yet, though there is more physical freedom in America,in England there is more intellectual frecdom and far more good-natured tolerance of unfamiliar idcas and eccentricities.

Why were thc English endowed with certain qualities which con-strained them to wander over the planet and establish their way of lifcover millions of square miles-America, Canada, Australia, NewZealand? and in spite of their faults, it is as good a way of life as aryon this planet. And all done withour the massacres and revolutions thathave happcned in other countries. The only devastating war ofInglish-speaking people happened among the Amcricans in the Civil War.

Our liG at Tdiesin was as different from our life in the lodginghouse at New Rochelle as Heaven is from Hell. New Rochelle t"pt*sented the lower middle class ofAmerica with ie very limited cepiatyfor living; Taliesin represented the highest culture that could be foundin America and with it went the feeling of freedom that real culturegive,s. Apart from the Prieur6, which of course was on a still higherlevel, our lifc at Taliesin that summer was as full a life at it is poriibleto have on this planet. It was a three-centred life: the hot weather andbeautiful country and the good food and physical work; thc harmonyof the buildings, the music, good films and singing; the discussions attable and Frank WrighCs stimulati'g talks to his pupils about archi-tecture and its meaning, was about as rich as ordinary life can be.

- Y"r,- apart from the architecturd school, the person who inspired thclife of the communiry was Olgive"na Lloyd Wright; and-she hadreceived the inspiration from the Prieur6, from her work with Gurd-jieff.In the many talks with her about Gurdjieffand his ideas there wasthat something that raised the talk above oidinary conversation.

She told us abour Gurdjieff's visit to them just bcfore the war. Hearrived, with one of the older New York pupils, after his visit to

I5I

Taliesin arul the Frank Lloyd Wrigh*chicago, which rritz peren writes about with an ufter rack of under-standing of the role that Gurdjieffy, pi"yi"g. crrJ:LfLJ;;"

"great impression ontle p.rpi*-"t raliesin, *[" ,rill-i"ii.JluTr, n,and this was partlv becairse'of rtir ";k;;. once he asked them to.btrg F- tr" ou.Jt *J;;,€hffi;i' t.l' r,"a. wh'e cookins themhe took outof his poctrcts J""-u", "r[i;;;il;;, oittJ'*upeppers and herbs an{ p_ut pinches now and

"g",,i i" *"e p"r,';Jo--duced a. zup-erb meal. It ,..*, th"i or" **ing *h"o they 1i"."gathered in the bis lounge

"ft , dirner, drt"d;;?fta;t#ii.d*",talking to the pupirs *tti *.* r*r*ittgl'irrt;",r*il srti'n'r"r,'well, Mr. cuia.;i.fi rt'i' i'

".'v i"*ffi:-i rilfi, ,."i?ri"l.riil#trtl#U'J: r" in paris. Then thef can come back to me and

'Yos finish! you are idiot,, said Gurdjieffangrily.,youfinish! No.Youbegn.I finish.' t----

__Y:l F9"r, Frank,' said Olgivanna, .Mr.

.$.:*'rr:ffi"J;*]:'fr::##'*'*f$.*ru'Wlght was a child compared *iO cirJii.e3a 1,"i a""gi;i;',r#;;'"il; ;ffi ::H;.}TfrtfJffi:Svedana, whom we had known

"t *" pi."*

", " Ufr;;;i;;;;;

"beluti.ful young w-oman: ma*ied ro one "i#rigfrf, p;;tli;rh. i;

"quiet inner strength, and a mature mind that yJo rddo* fi;t;;;gyoung American vromen. We were very fond ofher. ---- ---- e"'v'l

:iF:rlitrH#Jr'ff :ili:ir ;f #:::W;?f;,rt*:some of Gurdiieff's music in manuscripi *ti ;;;;; ril*n'*"rf*;hear it and ask-ed wigir ir*;;;T;iibe arranged for a recitar.Time-after time, for rl*. r.r-rr,-fr"lri*. off until at last I pinnedhim down and eot him grudgin;tri;il iil.;;j;,;ilHLthe rheafte,

"nJm"d. " a..giripr.rrioi oi t!9 nunils; .Wright

saidafterwards, 'His music T", ,!. *irrf. t"l"i ot human emorions.,I dways gttgv"a t"[.i"g to him *Jf,.;G rti* r.'.lE""i rii,* rr"was wrong(as he so often-was when talking iboot "nythirrg,";";;il-tecture) he was stimulating. one part oiiii* Ua r# p;.i,lt.r";;;;

*:y Welsh people h"""., tit.'ito;l C;;rg* Even if you do nottnrst them you cannot lt.Shg frg*i ,ti, wlt l ryp.ir;;;;ili;different from the a"u r"iurrt riipruty'.?'ii;il. chamberrain-or thedour li'nited mind of the 5.ot, t*J n.tin"y l,i""a"nald or Bonar Law.

r52

Taliesin anil the Franle Lloyil Wrights

Lilce all geniuses Frank Lloyd wright was intensely vain; he was alsonaive and would believe anyone who was nice to him and fattered him;he could not see through people. One day he came to me and said .Doyou want to make some moneyl' I said, 'Of course.' 'Read this,' hesaid handing me a lemer. 'It sounds genuine, and if you'll go I'll putup the money for the expenses.'The l-etter was from

" *" il Moico

who knew where a treasure was hidden, but because of his presentsituation he himself could not get at it. If Mr. Wright would "ir,-""him a thousand dollars he would givc him a shareJat least five thou-sand. After I had read the letter I said, 'you don't really believc this,d9_you?' '!Vhy not?' he said, 'It seems genuine to me.' 'it's one of theoldest swindles I know,' I said. He did not believe me, and it was onlywhen a friend of his on a Chicago newspaper, who was staying atTaliesin, confirmed my opinion that he reluitandy gave up the ii"".W.ith.all his genius as regards archirecture, with ali hir rtro"g person-alityt-T essence hc was a boy. Perhaps this was one of the ,".io'o, *hywe all loved him.

. He was very anti-British Government and said that it was trying todrag lmerica intg 1 war whi& did not concern her. .Why do"th.English have to fight Germany?' he asked. 'They are the same raceand ought to be friends.'

,'Th-"y are not the same race,' I would argue. .For one thing theEnglish are one of the most mixed races in Eorop.-pr"-Celt, telt,Roman, Angle, laxon, Dane, Norman, Frcnch, Hugenot, to say

ldhg of Scottish and lrish and a great ded ofJew. T[e English aniGelman point of view and character are quite different.'

'But why does England compel Ausrralia and New Zealandto comein and fight her wars?' asked one of the pupils.

...I :d1d to- explain that she didn't, that-thiy were free to do as theyliked. But I soon gave up trying to coffecr the distorted views aboutthe world in general and England in particular whic.h are instillcd intoyggpg Apericans undcr the name of educarion, and I kept off oneof their favourite subjects: the way England had treated h.merica ahundred and fifry years before; and so we got on very well to-gether.

_ Frankl-lofd Wright was working on his autobiography for a NewYork publisher. He discussed it witli me and asked ire to'work on itwith him. It was one of the most 6scinating, and in parts fantastic,stories ofa lifc that I have read. I noticed that thi e4pressidn 'democracy'constandy recurred, and asked him, 'What do you mean by democracy?

IJ3

Taliain and the Franh Lloyil lVrights

lvcry journalist and politician in America is constantly talkinq about

ffi trfl;#:i1i; };*"' chi"a al il;;;;;'';ffi :;""

But he' Iike othem, had never defned it, and there is no conunondcfinition. In America ir means."9 rti";;; Russia *ofi"r, irli*"the cxpression 'dialectical materiarismi "*hi"h th" a;;;; *"dways 'sing

and which not one in ten tho**a "* t"no". arral] *irr,

!ll_l!"pd"l,:lpress.ron in politics and religion. N" o"" *ti-.Urlr",does it mean?' Like the man in one of GrrrJjieff,s-tales _to, gir;g"long cxplaption of hysteria to Gurdjieff",

" yoott, *a.J*1il, Uu,hysteria is hysteria!'

Ir was d1r1lq this sumrner that I had the first deep and vivid ex_

tf,i1.:-jl !gl* consciousness. The three previo* "*prri.rr"L

of*r TT-.1F impact ofhigher forces were i t"rte ofre"l "o*"ioor-ness ot sert. 'rhe Dresent one was different. onehot day I was walkingfrom the hour"

"ior, ft" fi"ldr;;;;;;;;-" .wisconsin River. Abouthalf way a strange-and wonderfirl f"r.. i.g* to enter into me andpermeate my whole.b.-g,-*d filled me

"with light anJ o"** fstopped and stood still anJ bt the force flow. Alrd;;h i;;;;;r"

:f,*y su*oundings-the forest and fields ;J,h;;;";, ,il;;:r.only a background to the inner experience; all anxieties *i .'"r., or::,*: --U**r*try_t

away; at rt.^,"*" i*. I saw myself and myrclarrons vrith people quite clearly; I saw the pattern of *y liG, myorgamsm moving as it were along its "ppointei

p"rlr. il;;l;no longer, and an understanding of the whole oilif. r."_.d possiblefor me. rr was as if for a few mofr""t' r i"i "iil;;;;..iit, "lathe outer liG, which had seemedso i*port*iand took rd

"U *il;,

was nor the reallife but_something .phe*er.I, ; ,;;f ;;"fiilwith which I was ident,fieg. OUy Af i*"iro-"thi"g;;;;;;_I, the real self of me. I AM.

If I were to writc a boolc I could not convey the realitv of this ex-

lflt:i::r:gthosewho have had it can unde'rsr*a. mJ#*g, "f1" t:t mystics-Cfuistian, Muslim, Buddhisq Hindu_are fofi ofrecords.ot tlose who have e4perienced this ecstasy, in various forms.It was the state of whlch$e.s'fs say, .The

spirit at once;;;;r;i;;;,the universe and dwells in th. he"ri ori*i'rr was an appearance ofHis xndlessners to rhe suffering souls on th" pil;;i;rr.d;"d"coming of the Son of Man.

Litde bylitde the vision passcd but the effects remained, and I thoughtrs4

Taliesin anil the hanh Lloyd Wrfuts

of the words ofJesus Christ. 'Again I say trnto you, "Watch", for youknow not whcn the Son of Man will come.'

Blake understood this: 'Whcn the doors of perception arc opened.'Poets, arrists, lovers and madmen can havc these moments of percep-tion. The force is in ourselves but thc doors are shut and can only 6cusefirlly opened by the grace of God or by work on ourselves; they canalso be opaned by accident or by disease. Vincent van Gogh is an cx-ample; in thc last years of his lifc thc doors of pcrception in his mindbecame wcakened by disease, the force poured into him and caused themarvellous flow ofhis p"inting but, since hc was not able to control theforce, it drovc him mad and filed him.

In parts of the East harmless lunatio were regarded as being undcrthe protection of God; perhaps because peoplc understood that theyhave periods of being able to see through the fagadc of lif*momentsof ecstasy, ofhigher consciousness, but they do not know how to makeuse of this experience. Many sick pathologicd types in the West arcattracted by red higher ideas<nd they also caflxot do anything.

Mr. IVrigk had bcen Elking about getting out a magazine for thc

laliesjn ncllowship and asked me ifl would produce it. As in everythinghe did the magazinc was original both in design and format; consciouslyor rmconsciously he followed the advice of Gurdjieff's grandmot[cr:'Nevcr do as others do. Either do something &ferent

-or just go toschool and leam.' Thc magazine was to be printed by a smdl fiim atMineral Point, a village near thc borders of Iowa-threc craftsmenwhom you might have found in England fifry years ago. Since they didnot have the fount of typc Wright wanted hc ordered one speciallyfrom Chicago. I enjoyed working with thesc men; thcy too[ a realinterest in their work and together we produced a well-printed modernmagazine, of which we brought our rwo issues. I beliJve only a thirdyas publishe{. What happened to the expensive founr of type I don'tknow, but if Frank Lloyd Wright wanted somcthing, expense wasnever considered even when moncy was short. As he said,-'Give methe luxuries of life, you can have the necessities!'Lilce most men ofgenius he produced abundandy. Like Gurdjieffhe would say, 'If rake,then take. Whencver I do anything t do a lot of it.'

Al with so rn:mymen ofgenius, his personaliry h"d been developedat the expense of his essence. His personaliry end his genius were

{afinating and stimulating. In architecture and ideas foi an organiclifc he was so right-so 'Frank Lloyd Wright'; but his inner life, his

IJJ

Taliesin anil the Franh Lloyil Wrtghts

being, had not developed with his knowledge, so that his inner life wassrrangeiy empry; and most men, even gcniuses, are lilce this.

The tropical weather w_as coming to an end and the clear hot Indiansurnmer with its cool nights was b-eginning. we gatherea s."o"l;aapples and made wine *d ad"t ana"tapi #a;i;;.:r.

"o"#;tember my wife was ofeled a well-paid.1"b i" N;-n;;k;;;.#gmusic so she left us to take it

"q:y.4i L,"ly.d oo ;rh ;y-*" ;;gsons, unril November. The--'\Vrights were preparing lo l"*. fo,Arizona and asked us to go with thlm. nut my wife oJdJ ilia-"riiyTd, T,h the coming oi_*og" English people and the O";;ril;.amenca, even* drew us back to New york. And so endedi ro**.,of real happiness for us; one that I never thhk ;iil *rr, "ha.g "rgratitude to the Wrights

I have wondered why such a beautiful place as Taliesin, with anatmosphere_so cdm andpeaceful, should be'connected with so muchf-T:!y.*d *llttgg". ag."i1, r asked mysetf ,*h, il"..rJ.*,naPpen.to peoplei' This could be answered only if we could see ourl:?Tt-tiG, "rmpletely.

and the lives which perhap,s we have U""al.f"re,T".P" pl*"tyinfluences surrounding us_and those near to us.frc.'denrs have trreir cau1e1 in past results, in our abnormal rife. Lr theKoran it says,-'When misfort.ires.o-" io yoo th"f ";;;;J;r;your former deeds.'

-^,1-yf'lTft* of Franlc Uoyd rtrright,s autobiography in which he:fljft the l,{:gro buder who_wenr mad, kiled \trright,r'*if" and rwocrlildren

-and tour men, and then set the house on fi.. Not lons afterit was rebuilt it caught fire and was again Ur-.aJ"*". A"i"?;

years hter' our beloved svedana was kilred there in a car accident.

I8

NEW YORK AND OUSPENSKY

rnrn My rwo youNc soNs I drove back to NewYorkby wayof Iowato the Mississippi River to Moline and Kentuckyl here, even thooghit was November, the weather was bright and hot, but when we gotinto West Virginia a cold rain began. In Virginia it snowed and by thetime we got to New York after ten days on the way the weather wascold and frosty. With its varied scenes and minor adventures, ourjourney had bcen full ofinterest.

We setded in an apaftment on Lexington Avenue on the border ofYorkville, the German setdement. America vras not yet at war; but,whcn one crossed the strect it was like going from Amcrica intoGermany, into an atmosphere of hatc, resentment and hostility; andin the restaurants the waiters and waitresses treatcd us with typicdGerman arrogance. We went to a cinema to see a film of Nazi Germany,complete with Hider screaming and shouting, military bands andgoose-stepping, and at thc end there was a collection for the 'WinterHilfe' in Germany. The atmosphere was similar to what I had felt inBerlin just before the war andI whispered tomy wife, almost afraid tospeak English, 'Are we really in America?'

It was not America. It was Yorkville, a town of a hundred thousandnon-Jewish Germans, whose dislike ofme, when they heard my Englishaccent, was evident. Their attitude wa6, ''We've conquered the Poles,the Dutch, the French, and it won't be long before we've conqueredthe English.' The atmosphere was like a whiff of poison gas. TheGermans, like thc Russians, take good-will for weakness, tolerance forineffectivcness.

The Central Europeans and thc smdl shop'keepers in New Yorkwere often curt and brusque. This disconcerted me at fust, being usedas I was to the friendli''ess of small traders in England and France; therrI found that it was not because of me persondly but because I was astranger. These litde business people radiated fcar---of the gangsters,the protection racke$, thc police and the politicians; yct when thcy got

r57

Ncw York anil Ouspenshy

l: hoy^or they became friendly enough. It was quite different withthe real Americans-no fear here, only friendliness.-

Frjelds from England had arrived in New york, some from Ous_pensky-s group, and now we no longer felt emodonally and mentallyisolated and alone; through these frierids our two sons got a fuil schorar-ship at the Dalton School, one of the best and;r;;;";;; *."f,iI.-* York. I began to look for ajob, but not even th^" nritirh Om".or rntormafion would emproy

-me, ret alone the Americans. EventuallyI got a part time job on a small magazine which, ir it aiJ ""t'i.i*'i"flt:,:fr: I::qt'me in touchi,irh all kind;;ipfii;;;;",rry

the -English refugees- who were now arriving i" h.uraieds, &Uar."mos'y' so, whar with ourjobs, our friends from England and those oftheold oragrc group,!F ig"i" was rich *d fril. ;";;;;;ffi;.,::.d rg say,_'Health withouimoney is half an ague., So fi.tf, U.." f"New Rochelle; now, in New york, we had heith and .;;fi;;;"yfor our needs, and, with the Orage group, were sdll able ,o ,.i-i ;;;;yto Gurdjieffin France.

.?*hg the winter I rearized with surprise that I was never cord.Although-at times there were rwenry d.gi.., of frost

"rrd h."w **

falls,.and-though I wore the thirurest'unaJ*r.rrti"g i *", "."* i.ii. r,Lorrdon in winter, since the firsr war, I have alwa'ys Jfii,"ldir;;;h.cold. It was one of the English srupiiities rhar a warm house is ratherunhealthy-unl:rr y9" weie rich and could have servanrs ro make firesin every room; itis thecold English damp that.hillr ril;;;;;f*ybones; New York cold is dry.-

t Spti"g we heard that Madame Ouspensky had arrived and wasrj"E"g with some Ame-rican pupils of herr^ioR.r-rorr, N.*j.rr.y, ".,far from New york. we immediately got in touch *itl, h.i*a *.r,tl.^j::l::: Tl;

change had benefited h.i *d,h. rook.i *.11.il:;;herselt, away fiom Lyne place, a refugee like ourselves, ,h. h"d,r",r..dto surround herselfwith a_protective {igade. She was warm, sympathedcand understanding; a highly developei \Moman *rif,,r*.i 3#;;;talked a- great deal, about-$rrdj-iefr's ideas *d ;b;;;;il;;;; ;;returned ro New york stimulatei and vivified Uy ,t ri"ri.i; ;:pressions-rhe third fo9d.. A litde later o.rsp.nrky rri"r*rr"rri";;;invited me to lunch in his hotel in New yort *irt, t*" .?fri, ;;;d;;England, anf during {.. gtt spoke_about starting gro.rpJ;J J;;what I was doing. I told him ab-out-the orage groirfandsaid that wewere trying to arrange for Gurdjieffto .o*Jorr-..

"rrld work with u, in

IJ8

Taliesin r94o

Author and Fr-arrk Lioyd Wrighr, Wisconsil

New Yorle and Ouspensky

New York. 'If he does come,' said Ouspensky, 'I shall go to Califor-nia.'

I spoke to the Orage group about Ouspensky, and suggested that wemeet him, to which they agreed. Ouspensky was willing, but asked

that there be no discussion of Beelzebub's Tales (understandable, since

he had not read the copy I gave him) and on the appointed evening Icalled for him at his hotel and took him along to Muriel Draper's house

on Madison Avenue. I was rather nervous, Ouspensky himself was notat ease; it was the first time that I had seen him a little nervous and Ihoped that nothing would be said to offend him. About twenty werethere, quiedy curious, self-possessed. After I had introduced him therewere some questions, but with long pauses. On the intellectual plane noone could cope with his massive armoury, but when it was a questionof Gurdjieff's personal teaching I felt that some of Orage's pupils hadan understanding, through suffering Gurdjieff's probings, which Ous-pensky had not reached.-

Questions were asked about the new book he was writrng, Frag'ffients of an (Jnknown Teaching, and he gave us the impression that itwould be possible to hear some of it read, but nothing ever came of this.Afier about an hour silence Gll. No one had anything more to say;

when Ouspensky got up and took his leave I went downstairs to thedoor with him and he asked me to go back to the hotel, but I wanted toknow what the group was thinking.

I aslced them, ''W'e11, what was your impression?''No authoriry,' said one of the older pupils. 'He speaks from his

nriJld,' said another. 'Too intellecrual,' said a third. Another said, 'Heseemed to want to impress us when he told us that he had nearly a

thousand pupils in Loidon, but Gurdjieff says he needs quality notquantity.' Only one, and she had not worked much with Gurdjiefl,said that she thought Ouspensky was a better man than his teacher,

though later she changed her mind.For me, my five years' contact with the Ouspenskys had created a

sort of bond; and as I needed very much to do something active withthe ideas I helped form a group for Ouspensky, to which some of theOrage people came. For us he made no conditions about speaking

about Gurdjieff; except that we should not put questions about Beelze-

bub's Tales in the meetings, and he said that he would not accePt anymoney from us; we should send it to Gurdjieff. His group satisfied a

certain mental need, yet it could not supply the essential needs as

Gurdjicffand Orage fid; we missed the warmth and mutual discussion

IJ9

Neu Yorh anil Ouspensky

1f O;p;'s group and the fue and force and fundame'tal teacJring ofGurdjieff.

fhl g:roups increased, more of Ouspenskyi middle_aged pupilsarriv;d.fr.om.Xngland, and people i" NJw Vork *to UJ?."a'6or-penskyt books -joined

th. gro"p. Many of th.re l"tto1;; ;"*c-uriosi_ty and left after attenlingi f"* me.tiogr; y., O.r" r"*"lrrraib:t: ffo,gr sixry serious p.opL; but almost A:"* tfr. nir; rh.;;;,a cuvtdrng line, a barrier, between those of us of the Orage sro"o *aOuspenstytpupilsfrom-England;O.rspenskytp;;rh'f ;p"#;i;",and totally-new surro*ndingi, *.r. not^"llo*.d to^rp."k ai"", 6"ra-jieffto us: hence there was a strained attitude in conirast ," ,rr. r."ri"gof brotherhood among us of the or"g;;r""p.-.O1: day Claude pragdgn, the #ritir, irrith *ho* I had beenf*,{f:l my_bookshop' a"yr, r"id io-*..,O.rp."rt/ r.Ur'il" 1ir",aoff"1j;l*r juf,ering from paranoia

"rrd thi,

".cJunts i-or his strangeDenavtour.

,4, good- many people are saying this.,uuspensky has this idea fixed in his head and nothing win change it,'I said. 'None of Gurdiieff'1gy pupils ,htnt rrttt. orag"e, and p.-o-Fessor

Saurat too, said thaicurdjieC;.dr;;;;;solute saniry. Almost allserious people eyen in ordinrry-Ji?" will admit in privale,h;; ffi ;g.?.id :i trs planet is

" rt"t. ofl -"ry; th. obrri;*it;; ;A;;_rr rn a more acute form.]{o,

lo mI mind Ouspensky himself is a bittouched on the subiect r{g."tdji.a v"" t""* **l6rti:r"rr,*iiaus that at dmes he"hims'erf h"r;i;t;Jrh. rll "r* eccenrric in orderto |eep the intellectuals away tioir. ti*; *i," {A, ;;;;;';;"ordinary intellectual has rgnorgd him.

"* ".rra a man sufferins fromparanoia write a b o ok like B. e e I z eb-ub, s T al e s, md cofi;;; ;;; ;ffi .;-firl music and those marvellous d*"Ji'--'-

- I offered to lend Bragdon the rypcscript of Beelzebub,s Tales buthe explained that he wai_working--.ht;;il system of yoga and did:::,T:l:: Tl,tr',es. He addId, ,r,.',. .oioyed h.;;A;ful;;,music at the recitals vour wife and Carol "Robinson

g":".,--"ri',.{- "fcourse I'll correct thi, ltory rf o"rp;"rkyt

"uoo, Gurdjieff if anyonementions it.'

fragdon, a well-known wrirer, was responsible for the transladonand publication in America of Ouspenstyt{f.rti"* Organum,. It was

*': *,* :l-:Tt, as ouspensky 1",ri.,, i*a; i.r *ia ;; hd'.; ;;;uncersrood what you have written I would corne to you and bow downto you and- ask you to be my teac;her.,

Ouspensky only once mention ed Beelzebub, s Tales tous in the group,r6o

New Yorh and Ouspenshy

saying that it was only for the Gw and required a grear ded of mentalpreparation in order ro undersrand it; and that if Gurdjieffpublished it\" *:d.d notpublish Fragments of an (Jnknown Teaciing.igain I saidthat Beelzebub's Talesneeds, not mental preparation, brrti c"r-ain pmo-tiond attitude.

I sawrrery much of Ouspensky at this time, often done in his apart-ment; dready I felt that he was a sick man, suffering from the *""t-nesses and lawful infirmities of old age, as well

", fiorn some specific

disease, and he was drinking srrong clncoctions that I could not tak..'You must have a stomach of iron,' I said one day whcn he offeredme one of them. 'It's too strong for me."

He said, 'It's the only thing thar relicves the boredom and depressionthat comes over me at times.' In thesc periods of loneliness ta a"-pression of his a deep feeling of compassion for him would come overme, a love for him and a wish !9 h.lp, but, apart from talking with himI could do nothing. Emotionally and instinitively I fblt oldir than he;but, as I say, intellectually, apart from Gurdjieff'sideas, compared withhim I was a child. Yet I did not envy him hii massive mind; iiwas over-dardoped at the expense ofhis other centres. In our talks about GurdjieffOuspensky wguld yf thi"Slyr disparagement of him, as if defenjinghimsel4, criticising his'stupid behaviou/. He spoke about the need roscparT: Gurdjieff the man from his teaching-his interpretation andcxposition of eternal rTfr:; for Ouspensky there was Gurdjieff9Ic 'imposlib]e' man wiro had 'gotte off thi rails', and Gurdjiifftjsystem'whicl-r Ouspenska taught. It wds this faculry of being

"Lb to

kegp hjs mind separate from his feelings that enabied Ousptsky towrite dov'n objegtively what he had hJard from Gurdjieff

-in Russia.

o-uspensky's intellectual integriry enabled him to produ-ce in Fragnentsof an lJnknown Teachinga work which, though nof 'objective, is a workof art. I never would a_gree with him that Gurdjiefffiad .gone offthepilsl, -and

would say.that we could not judge iti* """or-dirrg

to ourF"*it was not poriibl" ro separate the *"n?rom his teachini. Gurd-jief lived his

-teaching, and what, in his beJraviour, according to-the sub-

jective-moraliry of the Westem world, was stupid and inong, was,according to the_teaching, objectively moral. culd3ieff was pelectinghimself and used every means to this end. He r"yr th"t tfr"t *hi.f,furthers the aim of seli-perfection, of the acquiring *d

"*p*rioo of

fbeing' and'nderstanding, is objeaively *oi"l; th'"t which contracsbeing and-h{ders'nderstanding, the rurconscious self-imposed rimi-ations and inhibitions, 'the mind-forged manacles', thar wiich wastes

r6r

New Yorh and Ouspensky

precious -energy--il this is objectively immoral. Objective moralityincrcases being and understanding and does not harm others; subjectivemorality contracts and constricts and makes us more mechanical.GurdjietrXved, according_ to Objective Moraliry; but this, Ouspenskyand Nicoll and most of their followers never could understand]

Ouspensky one day rang me up at my ofrce and asked if I wouldcome and see him, it was urgent. When I arrived he said, 'Look at this!'It was the blurb of the jacket of a new prining of A New Model, whichsated that OuTrensky ivayo-tki"g *ith Curdjieffin

" l"rg" "o*-,-irythey had established not far from London, and so on.

'What can I do about it?'he asked. 'I speak to you because you havehad experience of publishing and understand my position.'

'Why do anything?'I said. 'Does ir maner?''[t matters to me. I must make my position clear. This statement puts

me in a rificulous sinration. Can I make the publisher withdraw-thejacket?'

'Have you the agreement?'He &d not know where the agreement was, probably somewhere in

E-"gJT,l, so _I suggested his getting in touch with Alfred Knopf thepublisher, asking him to withdraw the jacket but, as the bookJwerealready in circulation there was not much point in it.

'[ shall write to him,' said Ouspensky, 'and tell him that unless heprints a new jacket with the wording changed I shall take no royaltieson the book and refuse him further publications.' He also askid if tcould get him an lnlerview in a paper so that he could publicly eaplain

lis_position. I said that I would see whar could be done, so long as hedid not disparage Gurdjieffand his work in America. He said tli"t w"snot his intention. However, Ouspensky not having recendy arrived,and not having had a book recendy published, was n-ot news and there-fore of no use to the papen and magazines.

What happened, I don't know, for soon after I gave up going to thegroup for some time. I had become dissatisfied with what i*"s

"bl" to

give and what I was able to get: Ouspensky had wanted me to reply ,

to questions in the group, and take an active part, but since I could notdo this without referring to my own experience with Gurdjicff andyith myrrmderstanding of Beelzebub's Tales, it did not seemright todo so. A\o 2g this time a stupid incident arose; it happened thi't oneevening jrtt before I ser out for the group the telephone rang, an oldfiend of ours, an American woman, had just anived from occupiedFrance, from where she had escaped with hcr three children. Her

t6z

New York anil Ouspensky

French doctor husband had saved my life in Paris when I had an attack

of pneumonia. We at once went to see her and spent the cvening withher and her family, and this began the renewing of a close association,

but her sudden arrival had caused a turbulence in my emotions, so thatmy mind did not remind me to telePhonc Ouspensky that I wouldnot be at the group. A day or two later one of the younger membcrs ofthe Orage group came from Ouspensky to tell me that I was no longerrccretarF ofthe group, which I had got together, and that he was takingmy place. This could never have happened in Oragc's time, and I was

rc lumbfounded that, instead of going to Ouspensky and c4plainingthe circumstances, I stupidly said nothing.' However, life changed for me and events caused me to leave NewYork. Thc magazine I workedforfadedout, and I thought a good deal

about how to get money and at last put beforc a publisher an idea ofr book; the idea did not interest him, but he asked me if I could do abook on Winston Churchill in his young days, a book for boys and

girls; if so, they must have it in nine weeks. I had writtcn two 1u1-

published manuscripts and to do a book in nine weeks seemed im-possible. But the need of money will sometimes achieve the impossible.

I accepted the offer, got together the few books on Churchill available,

md intcrviewed rwo people who had known him at school. My wifeand yor"''ger son went to Taliesin and my elder son sayed with the

Elmhints in Martha's Vineyard. Some friends in Connecticut lent me

their house, and here I worked twelve hours a day, seeing no one,

s*dirg batches of manuscript to the publisher to be typed. The bookwas f,nished on time and eventually published, and to my surprise itwas well reviewed and brought in money. This pleased me and Ithought that now I could turn out a book a yeaa and make a goodlioiog. Alas, my efforts were useless;

"11*y attemPts to satisfr a pub-

lirher came to nothing. Really, I was nbt a writer, and this book was

what they call 'a natural'-itjust happened. It was fourteen years before'I produccd another book.

'Work on the booh had exhausted me physically and nervously, so Idrove up to Bedford, Massachusetts to meet my son and together wemade our way to Taliesin, by a different route from the year before so

es to see more ofAmerica. At Taliesin we took up our life again, almost

as if a year had not gone by; and for two months repeated the happen-ings of our first visit, though, of course there was not the inte4siry ofthose first impressions arid e4periences, yet the summer at Taliesin was

peaceful and iatisfying. We returned to New York by way of Chicago,r63

New York and Aqasfo

:i:ifuq on the way Frank I,-lofd 'Wright's building for the JohnsonWax Company, an oasis of functional beaury in a wildernes-of uglyfactories, then to Niagara Falls and so home,-that is New york. HIrcwe took an apartment in the arid desert of r r4th street around columbiaUniversity and the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.

- It is not strange, now that_organized church religion is losing its inner

vital force, that this cathedral, being Americ*l i, ,ro* th-" bieg.r,ghurch in theworld; it is the last oftie gothic sryle, andhas"r.ryfiriogbut thc kernel, and the essence.

Our apartment on the fourth floor was dark, the s'n never shoneinto the windows, but it was next door to some old friends, and wascheap, and so served its purpose.

When wc arrived we-learnt that the Ouspenskys, *oo"gh some oftheil pupils, had acquired Franldin Farms in id"odl"*, Nei lersev-"rrery large counrry house with thrce hundred acres. we weie invitedand went thcre on a brilliant hot day of the october Indian summer.It was as if Lyne Place had been Americanized and transferred to NewJeney; not only the house and park, gardens and grounds were similar,but manyof-the same g.op-I" were there and alrea-dy the atmospherc ofl1me was-ler1g

9reat9d. There was the same kind of magnificeice andthe same kind of work and the same rules were being es"tablished-nodiscussion in Franklin Farms of Gurdjieffor Beelzebib's Tales, no talko-f the organization in general to people outside; and no children wereallowed to stay, though they were invited forspecial parties; and pupils,even ?om_the Orage group, were told that thiy *rrit oot address iachother by their Christian names.

Howevcr, if you are hoogry and want a loaf of bread and someoneoffersyou a quarterof one you do not refuse it. My instinctive centrecraved physical work and at least here was an opportunity to satisfv it.I again-went to Ouspensky's groups, which now l"d m"ny pupils dothold.and

3ew.,Hayr3g no definite job at the time I asked ii i might goand work at Franklin Farms, and having agreed to the conditioo"r-rr"ott9. spea! about Gurdjieff or Beelzebub's-Tiles to tle pupfu there, I was o

allow-ed to. I enjoyed the physical work, the good food and the sur-'oundings; and I liked_ the people, yet I felt thail was a black sheep. Atthe same time I was able to tuh citcumrtances to my own

"dvant"ge.For exaqple, I had always been ready and eager to diicuss the ideas aidGurdjiefft way of working with anyone who was interested; and here,to make a task ofnot discussing them while working at Franklin Farrriswas a good incentive ro remembcring myself. Ouspenskyt pupils #ere

I64

New York anil Ouspenlcy

intensely curious about GJrdjieffand from time to ume cven mentionedhis name to me as if in the hope of learning something, but I kcptrtricdy to the agreement not to discuss Gurdjieff or Beelzebub's Tales

at Franklin Farms.Very soon Mrs. Howarth and my wife were teaching the dances at

Mendham, as at Lyne Place, and there was much activity at week-cnds, and with all its limitations and inhibitions the Ouspensky orga-nization was becoming a factor for good for those new people who hadnever studied the system; and many people will have cause to remem-ber the Ouspenskys with gratitude. In this world ofhmacy and fantasy

they offered them an oppoftunity of getting at least sometldng real.

And when you study the lives of some ofthe'saints',withtheirbickcr-hgs and limitations, you realise that the lives of the Ouspenskys wereofa high order.

When the news was announced that Germany had invaded Russia Ihappened to be with Ouspensky. He was shocked and astonished. 'It'sincredible!' he said. 'How can it have happened? It does not seem

possible!''why so incrediblei' I asked. 'You yourself have written that this

kind of situation must occur.'''Where have I written this?''In the New Model, where you speak about empires as great or-

ganisms, preyurg on the organisms of small countrics and devouringthem; and how these great organisms eventually turn on each otherand fight. This is an example.'

He had forgotten. Why is it that we often forget what we ourselves

have written or said-even some real truth? It is because the fact has

come to only one part of us, the mind; it has not been felt and workedout, it is not understanding but only information, and we forget it.

Not long after this, my wife and I while waiting to go out to tea tosome acquaintances casually turned on the radio. A hideous crooningstreamed from the machine, as of someone in dull pain; but it was onlyone of the manifestations which they call 'singing', of 'the highest state

of civilization the world has ever known'. Almost at once it was cut offand a man's voice began excitedly to speak; gasping for breath hecould hardly get the words out. '[ have to announce,' he uttered, 'oneof the greatest-greatest, uh, uh catastrophes that-that-the worldhas ever known; one of the most terrible things in the history of man:

Japanese planes have bombed Pearl Harbor, dozens of ships have been

I6J

t, ]

New York anil Arcpetsby

sunk and twelve thousand people killed !' And so on. [t was such a shockthat we could not takc it in and went to tea with ou,

".q,.r"iot*""r,where with half our minds we listened ro a woman rp."kiog "booith"s\ortpqggs of o'spensky. only nex day fid we'graspla t".tir"

whag Jrld..happqred, and were able to think'of the poitiuti ,"r,rlt, th"t

would follow. llhe papers and radio were full ofthe'news that Americawas at war, and an announcer reported that enemy planes had been seenovcr Long tsland; there was no panic, only a gi-"i"g realization ofwhat was- going qo happen.- my first fcelings-of ,tui.f"ction werefollowed by relief: we English were no loriger

"lonlwe "nd th"

Americans were in it together. Then a feeling ofpiry arose for all thosethou.sands 9f yo'ng American men now li.'tg,iho, sooner or later,would be drawn into this second great collectivl world catastrophe anddestroyed. Yet life went on, and no enemy planes appeared, od"o.rir";'we were too far away, and safe from bombi.

Ag"itt, a perceptible change in the attitude of Americans towards usbegan to talce place; even the most anti-British could not now "*r"Brilain oftrying to drag them into the war-japan had done that.

An incident in the destruction of pearl HarLoir, which I had visitedyears before, brought home thc fact of how thousands of lives candepend-on some small thing, from an attitude arising from vaniry andselcpridc of one insignificant man. It seems thar one-of the r"dio m.,,whose turn it was to listen for supicious_sgunds reported to his superior,a lieutenant, that he was hearing nois"s li!9 the erigio.s ofrtr*gi ""--planes, but this vain and stupid man told him ti .fo.g"t it', Ld th"instrument was tumed off. So, instead ofbeing alerted,Ihe forces weretotally unprepared. confronted by the

"n*t If *"r, as of earthouakesand volcanic eruprion, individual man is helpless; everrt}ine h"ioo*,as it is borrnd to happen; and everFthing *onld h"pprn oo*""s it^i.osthagpP. fLe causes wer-e in the past, biought

"bout by

"or*i" foi".,

and the abnormal life of man; and the war-would stoponly when theresults of the causes had worked themselves out.

one result of America and thc war was that we were no\^/ cut o{"from all contacr with Gurdjieffand the last news was that he had takenhjs faTrlj and gone into the country. only after the war did we leam

1bo1t his extraordinary activiry- duringthe occuparion, his forming of

the first group of French people and their intdsive worh with frm.Again, he had turned a disadvantage ro an advantage to himself andmany otlers; and the extraordinarily difrcult situatiln, with the Ger-mans and the vichy French constanily on the watch, prodoced factors

t66

New York anil Ouspensky

for selGremembering and selGobservation among the members of his

grouP.Some American pupils arrived who had left Paris just in time to

escape the Germans. Gurdjieffhad warned them against letting them-selves be caught up in the wave of mass psychosis, and to 'keep' them-selves-'lramsarnkeep', 'I keep myself'. The fact that we were cut offfrom Paris brought those in New York who had worked with Gurdjieffcloser together. We met and discussed the ideas, speaking about howwe undeistood the application of them to our own lives and althoughthere were frequent arguments and even quarrels about mundane things

the disagreements served to make our common roots sffike deeper. Itis no small thing to be able to disagree with a friend on matters thatvitally interest yo,r, yet not let the disagreement harm the friend-ship.

While living in the dismal fourth floor apartment on Wcst rr4thStreet I had an experience which subsequandy made some things clear

to me. The bell to the door of the apartment had a very shrill ring and

efter efew weeks there I was wa]cened up at night by the ring, and gotout of bed and went to the door. No one was there. This happencd at

intervals. None of my family heard it; I thought someone was playinga trick, though we never saw anyone. Then it ceased. Some months

later, when I was on a 6rm in Vermont, I was wakened one night bythe shdll ring of the same bell. I sat up, thinking I was in New York,then I remembered that I was in Vermont and there were no bells inthe house. I had dreamt it-or rather I had heard an echo in my sleep;

or was it hallucination? Having realized that it was not real I never heard

it again. There was a sequel. Some years later, when I was back inEngland, my father died; as time went on my mother began to lookworried and at last she told us that she was being wakened at night bythree knocks on her bedroom door. She would get uP and open the

door and there would be no one there. She believed that my father was

trying to communicate with her, but she never saw his ghost. Her parson

came to see her and advised her to pray, and said that he would prayfor the peace of my father's soul, but this did not stop the mysteriousknocking.

The family began to worry about her. I puzzled my brains, and intime forurd that each morning my mother's companion brought her a

cup oftea in bed, giving three knocks at the door before going into theroom. I spoke to my mother about this, and told her of my cxperience

I67

i

inAmerica*d.*pr"i,:';:::::7;{"1k**ooorharucina-tion. Gradually she realized that it must be so, and she never heard theknocks again. Many ghost stories have been based on similar dreamechoes of sounds; and sights too, figures seen in a dream may persistafter the dreamer wakes-hypnopompia; for a few seconds h;;hi"k,he actually- sees_ the figures

"nd th.t blcause they vanish into thin air

they must be ghosts.There is no limit to man's suggestibility and auto-suggestibiliry. Hc

can believe Tything about anyone or anything if it is fit to him in acertain way by others, or even by himself.

r9

THE PUTNEY SCHOOL,

VERMONT

rN ?HB AUTuMN I went to stay with a young couple in Gui{o1d'

Vermont, and was so delighted and taken with the cgyntry and thc

people that I planned to gJt my fry{r there. In the following spring

ih" yo,*g coiple g"v. us th. use of a house near them, where Jve lPentth" n"rt"i holi.l"yi. We had bcen told about an i"t"loolg school notfer away, at Puurey, and I wrote to Mrs. Hinton, the head, who inrtited

o, ,o dion"r. Whai was our surprise to find several of the boys anf girls

&om Burgess Hill School in Hahpstead where- my wife had tauglt and

our sons fi"d b".tt pupils. It was i most joyful reunion. Mrs. Hinton's

late husband *"r "ioi of C. H. Hinron, who wrote Scientific Romances

-science fiction with ideas that had inspired H. G. Wells'

Mrs. Hinton had started the sihool i fe* y."tt before' What par-

ticularly interested us and what gave it a- particular vitality, walisthree-centred way of life-very siirilar to the Taliesin Fellowship. The

English idea of a iound mind in a so'nd body was good.as.far as it went

buiit left out the third force-the reconciling or neuffalizing, the emo-

tions. At pumey the idea was that the pupils, from the age of twelve to

seventeen, rhoid have a good phystci lif"-not organized games and

physical &ill, but "

rr"toril life, which was provided by work on the

lho,rr*d acre estate; the mental life was suppli.d by th" three R's and

ordinary school work; while the young giowing emotions were.fed

or, *orlr, singing and painting, and drama- The school made a deep

impression on * *d once back in New Yorlc an idea began to simmer.

Foi one thing, I was finding it impossible to gel w-o1k, and I was not

well. The idJa of getting a j-ob at the Putney School began to gt1* iomy mind

"nd "liim"t.'iy iook possession of me. I can't say that I

decided to do anything, something in me pulled towards it; again,

perhaps I was being pJbd by thai'something' along the path of the

t6g

llti

Tlu Putncy School, Vermont

pattem of my life. Anyway, the wish ro go to the putney School be-came stronger, attlle same time the wish not to leave my family alsogrew strong; our lives together since I arrived in New york had beensatisfring and, after New Rochelle, very h"ppy.

Tk :ld struggle- repeated itself-a wish r; do something whichwould be useful and the wish to be with my 6mily.

In thc end I wrote and offered to work on the farm at puurey for amonth for board and lodging; if I satisfied them they could pay me

:9-.+gg, ifnot, I could return to New york. Mrs. Hinton "grJed,

*dI loaded the car with my things, including the rwo large v6lumes ofBeelzebub's Tdles, tore myself from my family, and set Jffto drive thetwo hurdred miles to Vermont.

. I.t was early May when I arrived, after the mud ofthe April break-uphad gone, and the air was crystal clear. The workers ot ih"

"rt"t", df

whom I now was one, said litde to me for a day or two; they weresizing mc up, but as I &dn't pur on airs and did my work as well as Icould thcy soon accepted me as one of themselves. Life, for me, almostfrom the fust, became full of interest. There was the same feelins ofgrcatrgg and growing that one had felt at Taliesin, the feeling th"r.ot.,from living and working in rhree-cenrred activity. Xvery iupil had towork part 9f the trac ol the farm-cleaning rabl"r, tt.fui"g *iA *r"catde, working in the fields or doing c"rp*try. The farm- workers,calpenters, painters and so on .were all Vermonters, born and bred;some lived on thc estate, others in Pumey down in the valley but theteachers were from dl over America. Thc native vermonters were ofthe real old New England stock. Their ways wcre fike the English, eventheir accent was a sort of mixture of Bedfordshire and DorsJt; and thec9untry was so beautifirl-green mountains covered with forest, andthe fertile valleys below. Most of the farrns wcre on the tops of the hills,for in the early days, when vermont was the new North fcst Frontierthe English who moved from the coast wenr up in the htlr;;t";*"yfrom the In&ans who kept to the river valliys. As a boy in Hert-for&hire I had read a book from the sunday School library'called The

'

Green Mountain Boys; it was_about this part of the corurtry, a story of .*

Ethan Allen and his msr who were fighting the English'in the fo"r_oflndependence. This book had made an imfression Jn me-and nowhere I was; it was as if the impressions and i..litrgr arouscd in me onreading the_boolc were a foretasre of things to

"oL" forry years later.

Vermont-'Green Mountain'.From !y first days I felt at home at the puurey School; like Taliesin

r70

The PutneY School, Vetmont

it was as near to a normal life, apart from Gurdjieff's school' as one is

likelv to find in the western world.-i;;; o* ,ft"t I should have to play a role-that of t farm-worker

and odd job man-I must never ctititi"", nor aPpe€r to tnow more

,lr* afr"ri around me, bur be willing to take orders from the manager'

the oainter. the carpenter or whoevJr I happened to be working under'

;;fi f; the brief period with the refugee committee in London it;;;;; ,ii" t h"db."o 'under orders' since the army' It was a good

exercise for me, a good task, a 6ctor for constant self-remembering

,ro, ,o let my "goir*,

self-love and vanitv- exPress- themselves' y,et

everyone had'a pieasant way of asking me to do jobs' As men gradually

b.g* to be dralfted into the arqy 1t

became neceslarl for everyone to

,,rfr,fr.i, hands to anything and I learnt e great deal-about farming,

;;;t and paintini, aboie all, about myielf' ltad Beelzebub's Tales

;;;";;iy *d, "t

crirEiert teaching is not just a Shil.os3nhr'

bu1 a

practical method for dealing witl life, for living, t tri;d to !ll-*"i.".hing into practice. There are times when one must be outwardly

acrive, ta Air" are times when one must retire into onesel{, while

b.irrn'oor*"rdly tolerant and considerate towards others. This was a

A*"'*fr* i *l* adopt an outwardly passive role but inwardly be

acrive. As the ancient ihitt"r" philosopher said, 'It is sometimes nec-

cessary to do nothing yet not to be idle" .

the f".m w"s m.n"ged by Mrs. Hinton's son, with whom ! got on

.r.* *"11. and *hen hJdiscovered that I had had a book published and

i;irr""-Jl;J, he asked me if I would give a talk tg the pup-rls. The old

;;;i. t myself began again-the effort to do somethins {at t;rrffiito do td the-rcsistance to doing something thal plt of me

ar""J"a. m" idea of speaking ro an audience had always fillcd me with

"rr* A."gf, I had by this-time got over the period when I could

speak only to one Person at a time, and was no longer tongue-ued rn

a" pr;;.. of ,*l or threc at 6ble; but thg thought of an 'r'diencestill'aroused intense nervous anxiety; it arose from self-love and vanity

-rft. f..fi"g that I might say the wron-g tfrings,3r fr*gt I the wrong

d;;;iook fooliih in the -cyes

of otheri' on refection I rcahznd

th"i h"r" was an opport'nity of ;doilg -some

small thing that I wished

*J. U"r "oold

noli, "nd

m"ke *yr.lf do it. I agrced to give a talk but

t, **" a"y, **r "bout

in a stati ofnervous apprehension. I thought

o.r", -r t"lt *d made notes but when I stood up before the crowd

"f ,.G people and teachers in the lecture hall I forgot everything,

notes ani all. fro*".r.r, aftcr the first few halting sentences words began

Tlu Putney School, Vumont

to fow of themselves and soon I felt that I had captured my audienceand when, after an hour I sat down, I was greeted with a rtor* of i.-lighted applause.

This changed-something p *", and consequently, the atdtude ofpeople to myself, I al"ready felt a new strength-in the solar olexus.

- ol" of my chief weaknesses was a lack ofielf-confidence'irhen beingfa-ced wit! the posibiliry ofdoing something out ofthe current o"rr"*of pJ ordinary mechanical walof liG. yei I knew that it is Jrly Uy

T*yg efforts to overcome this mechanicaliry that one can gro* *idevelop inwardly. At first we have to be reminded and h.ip.d b"

"teacher and in groups, later we have to do it for ourselves; y"r i^t ir rr.i",e-asy to go against the inertia of one's lary inclinatiorls, or io go againstthe current of ordinary mechanical life; everything is in a conipi.i"r io'help' us nor to make real effort: inerti" of th. irganism, .Jt"bt lhedconventions, thc opinions of those around us and nJ"t to us and so on.one had always to be on guard against oneself,, one's tendencies.

The talks to the pupils became iregular feature of my life at punreyand were so well received that I begt to thinlc it was ."rv *d t*Lless trouble to think over-what t would say, and one evening, *t ." r n"anot sulficiendy prepared my talk beforehand I felt for tiie first rimethat it had fallen flat. I had spoken only from my head and not withfeeling as well.

- one is-always forgetting, always dozing oft and when we doze thedogs within lt -b.g to birlc andlead ,trlrtr"y. One has * *y, .rr"ryday, not to fall asleep,-but to 'work', to remember oo.,, "i*, ,o Igave myself the task of reading Beelzebub's Tares, andeach daytriedto- remember myself and to do the exercises Gurdiieff had qiven uswhile repairing wire fences or ploughing with the i""ror; *?,oil_times in the middle of monoronous physicd work there would come rome such a sense and feeling of 'I-am-ness' that it permeated every partof my being-body, feelings and mind.

-'when at midnight God goes to the pious in paradise all the treesadore him and their songs awaken the cock, who in turn begins topraise God. seven times he crows, each time reciting a verse. Tf,e firstverse is: Lift up your hcads, O ye gates, and be y"-lift.d up ye ever_lasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in. For th.'fifth o.rr"he crows: How long wilithou rl."p O Sluggard? When *itt ttq"arise out of sleep? The sixth verse: Love oot-J""p lest trrou come topoverty. And the sevenrh: It is time to worlc for the Lord.'

f,72

The Putttty School, Vermont

My lifc at the Putney School was really, three lives: LiG with the

Vermonters, the workers on the estate-the physicd life; life with thc

pupils, boys and girls--emotional life: life with the teaching-staff-i"ittd [fe. Uy body was nourished by the physical work, my feelings

with the music and tittgitg in the choir in which ljoined, and my mindby talks with the teachers; and my inner life was nourished by striving

to work according to Gurdjieff's system.

A good feature of the school was that the pupils were encouraged to

"tt*I the annual 'Town Meeting' in the hall in Putney Village, where

the locals met to discuss affairs and business for the year, appoint 'selcct-

men' and so on. The meetings, which lasted two or three days, were

directed by a chairman-'Mr. Moderator'.

As I havc said, in their own peculiar American way, the idcas whichlay behind the organizations of Taliesin and the Putrney School, could

be the seeds of a really good civilization for America and for the world,in contrast to Hollywood, Madison Avenue advertising, T.Y., jazz,

crooning, wailing guitars, newsPaPer, business and tecbnological so-

called civilization, which is rapidly corrupting the human race, in the

East as well as the West. I never ceased to be astonished at the contrast

berween so-called'civilized'life of America which all the world strives

to copy and which is only a sign of degeneration, and the essential lifeof Americans which has such good possibilities.

At the end ofJune the summer term ended. The pupils and most ofthe school staffwent on holiday, and preparations were made to receive

the campers. I ananged for my family to take part in the camp life; then

I went to N.* York, gave up the aPartment, stored the furniture and

drove my family back to Putney. In a few days a new staff arrived,

together with counsellors and a hundred or more camPers' boys and

giils berween twelve and sixteen yeais of age. For the next two months

we took part in thc life of the camp. Lr the mornings the campers

worked on th" farm and gardens; in the afternoons they'were free; inthc cvenings they took part in activities-music, singing, acting, square

dancing. There were games, canoeing and swimming. It was a rich life,

"lr.ry [o.tt was full and the camP was free from the organized false

heariiness, the artificiality, that goes with much of the organized camp

life in England and America-and on Passenger ships. No wonder that

at the end of August when they had to go home there was weeping and

waili"g among the girls and gnashing of teeth by the boys.173

1,1!

rrl

The Putney School, Vermont

We had a litde house to ourselves about rwo miles away. Iulv andAugust are two very hot months in Vermont, and every dry i*," *"otto the ice-house by the lake where was stored hundreds orlto*, orl,in sawdusq which never thawed even when the thermom.r", ,roodat a h'ndred outside. The blocks we brought bacrc wrapped in sacks,whigh kept our food fresh through the alriost tropical,';*; -

- After camp was broken we sayed on for a timi. I wanted us all tofive at Pltney where-b_oth my wifeand I could have taught. ir* lrrabean teaching at Sarah Lawrence and now was offered

" e"ood position

at the hiends' Academy on Long Island, with a s"holi'rship^fo, th.y!{ger boy. I had already, witbthc help of a friend, arr"nled for "scholarship for thc elder boy at the putnJy schoor so, after ,"ar.i"" i,

over,.weighing lp--fi" pros and cot t, or, as they sry now, "ft.r"*'agonizing appraisal', it was arranged that I should stay and sire shouldgo- to Long Island. Again we were parted.

. -'Every stic\has two ends, a good end and a bad end', the good end in

this case was that, although our total income was forry doll"ars " *..r.,

our sons were being educated at two of the best schools in America-that is, schools which accorded with the best of the American wav oflife, and we were able to exist comfonably. lhe U"a *J *rr'tl"separation of thc 6mi1y.

. I now began to Qel-a need to be away from people for a time; andthe writing itch, which had been dormanr, beqan to stir. Hapoeninoto mention this to the Raymond Gram So"i";1,*h" hJ;;il;;house just- over Putney Mo'ntain, they offerJd me a derelici fir;-house-on the way to Newfane

!o cjTp in; TI f"*ily and Ihad campedin i.t ,{uring $e summer and had thotooghiy enjoyed ourr"lrro, il Itook leave of absence from the school, p".t"a

" bit of f"ri*r" *acooking things and my dog in the car, &orr" oo", th" *ooot"io *isetded mpelf in thc Grmhouse. At that time there were hundreds ofdeserted farms scattered over Vermont, which could be h"d {b; "il;nothing; well-built timber houses whose owners had either left for th"{ar west fifry years before or had grven up in despair. Th" difiJ;; I

F-i"g was the -quantity

of roclss and gi""t,orrird *o"", "*o"g'rf*fertile soil,

9very farmer had a stone-bo"i, "

,orr of sledge, *ith ;d"hcrery year he carted away the srones from the fields. ivhat with thedense forest, the rocks and stones, tlre long cruel winters, th" ,t .p iilb,far_ming-in Vermont was as di#icult as aiywhere in the world. ^

l1e days of the Indian surnmer -"r. "i""r, hot and still, tle nights174

The Putncy School, Vermont

cold and frosry. Each day the leaves on the mountains changed, not

into the *"r* bro*tt tones of England or even Long Island, but toqlowine shades of red, which made the hills look like frozen fire." at fiist the novelty was enjoyable drough I was somewhat uneasy at

night, when *y ,"rri., and instincts became intensificd, keyed u-p, like

an-"rrim"l's. Sometimes my dog would start up while I was reading in

bed (a mattress on the floor) and fix his eyes on a- Po-lnt and begin to

nro*I. Wild creatures came round the house at night from the forest-t"r, por.opine, wild cats; and one night I heard the snuflingof a bear'

Bearsire h-armless left done, though a man had been killed by one in

the district not long before, he having shot at it and wounded it. Por-

cupines are dangerJt s to dogs. Calling at a farmhouse one-day Ifoundthi f"r*.r', wiie pulling pJrc,tpine quiils out of her dogt-lre1d-yith

pliers. 'If yoo 1."* or,"-i.ti,' shJsaid,lit'll fester and probably kill the

dog.'ih" .o,lrrrry I was living in was not unlike the part 9f Ney York

State that Washington Irving wrote about in his S&erc& Book. More

than thirty y""r, 6.fot., I was living jn a -shack

with an old man;none of the ioneliest parrs of the world-the tussock country of thc

farthest south of Neiv Zealand, where the only trees were a row ofpines through which the wind sighed day a1d. night; whcre no birds

i*g "rrd

l,ro-*imals moved exceprmillions ofrabbits; and there were no

p"JpL. In this shack I found a-copy o{ the Shetch Booh and read ittd ,."d it, the loneliness arousing and intensifying the impression

which the book made.

This part of Vermont reminded m9 vlrY much of the country ofRip Vari Winkle and the queer litde follc he met. I was even more im-prisred when one day four strange-looking litde men, like gnomes'

Loro. op in a two-horse waggon; they -accused

me of stealing their

frrewooi, of which there was a stackjn the barn, and letting my two

gre"t horr., eat their hay. I thought they were going to attack.me, tutiexolained that I had blen toldio use it, and did not know that they

hadtooght it. So they calmed down andtook it away. Thcy were four

brothers"who had a farm not far off The two horses, almost as big

as elephants, and the \Maggon' had been borrowed by 4: Swings from

" 6rro.r. With them t ci-'.d wood each day, and got a litde money for

it.The people on the farms and in the_ villages seemed to have become

i"gro";iot degenerate but limited in their outlook, cut o6-even*i." ,o than in iiolated peasant communities in Europe. When men

175

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The Putney School, Vermont

lose contact with higher forces, even with curtural forces, they beginto go down the scale. [r the isolated towns and villages of a*eri'"",Australia, New Zealand and canada, peopre rirr"

" oni*entred rifc, a

life of the physical body whose only needi are food, shelter. ,r".o *asex. In the old world, the peasants [ad, and still have, * inrtinitirroemotional life: folk-dancing, folk art-and crafts-and the richness ofchurch liturgy.

After the 'war of Independence, vermont became the north-westfrontier, and must have.been a thriving state. It still had an

"r-orph.r"and a.feelpg of organic F, ft" pllr of W"l"s. Rudyard fipt"g, *hoonce lived not far from Punrey, felt this.

?dryg about one day I stopped at a wild-looking deserted cemeteryand wallced round readirg thJ names of those whJhad lived and diedthcre-a hundred years before. Among the stone monuments was one'To the memory of Sir Isaac Newton' who was buried there earlv inthe nineteenth century. Bom into a Newton f"-iry hir p"t.ot i".lchristened him not Isaac but 'Sir Isaac', *J

", ,o"h *"ri. known.Guilford, not far from Puurey, was usually referred to as 'Algiers'-because the yo.ung *T in the early days behaved rik. 'alg"ri* fii"i.r'.

Newfane, tfrree miles away, was a pretty village, " fr.* England

4ug:,. in a valley with the 6mili", iight!""thJ*t"ry ,h*"li *dschool house. Formerly it was on the toplf the adjacent ,,to""rdn u,rtwhen the Indians left ihe d.istrict rr. p.ifr" lot th",iu"go i;;;"by house, into the valley by the stream. ,tpart from radioJand carsit was still living in the early nineteenth .*i rry.. Here, in vermont, I dways felt'at home', never had the feelins ofbeing an exile that had oppressed me in Australia and New zrii"a.Tor one thing the{ora and fauna were similar to north.ern Europe andthe seasons were the same. spring was in March and christma, i,

"otawinter-there were no April autumns as in Australia or spring in octo-ber and christmas at the hottest days of the year. Arso rLr""*"r roo"g_rt{e {eetins of being a foreigner as I al*af felt myself to be in NewYork ciry. Yet even in vermont, I was seldom free from that gnawinchome-sickness caused by the war, the longing for Engrand-idj;?intermittent emotional neuralgia.

I felt at home in vermont as I had feh at home in British columbiabefore the First world war. so much of our feering liG or cmotionallife is a matrer ofassociation; often, as with young

"ol*ah, it is instinci.

I have seen a calf that we were dri"iog along the-road to marlcet maketerrific efforts to escape and get back to itsLother and frien&. with

176

The Putney School, Vermont

children and with cats and dogs, though instinct plays a large part intheir attachments to places and persons, as they get older associations

become stronger; and with older people much of their life is motivatedby associations ofpeople and places. Then there are the infuences ofliterary associations;.much of my own enjoyment of the Malay States

andJava was caused by the literary associations with Conrad and others

whose books about these places I had read. Half of my love of Dorsetas a youth was caused by the literary associations aroused by the writ-ings of Thomas Hardy. Much of my liking of America was a result ofassociations ofthe northern hemisphere-even to the similariry between

the prairies of America and Canada and the Russian Steppes. Speaking

of comparison by association, a man I travelled in the train with inChina constantly commented on the scenery-but only because he

associated it with other parts of the world he had been to 'That reminds

me of Arizona-or Egypt, or India. . . .'

Each day I wrote steadily. Sometimes I wondered why it is that people

look up, almost with reverence, to those who write. rtrhy this worshipof the written word? Why do people believe, at least wit} one part ofthemselves, what they see in print even when it goes against their ownexperience? Most people instinctively sense that the mind is the higherpart of m"n*and indeed the real mind is ; unfortunately, with the- mindx *ittt other things, people 'take the ephemeral for the real'-theformatory apparatus for the thinking part.

I myself when young looked up even to a cub rePorter as a kind ofsuperior person; and many journalists do regard themselves as supefior

people; their being able to write gives them a feeling of po'wer, whicheot*pm them. Yet no one is so easily forgotten as a journaliit who has

stopped writing. In the scale of writing journalism is low; popularjournalism and reporting, the lowest-.the negative absolute.-

This came to mind because of a small incident that had happened at

Putney School early in the summer. One day I was stopped on the road

at the Lower Farm by two young women hikers who curtly asked me

the way to the school. Half an hour later they came back where I was

working, beaming all over and said, 'We hear you're quite a Person,you've written a book, and we thought you were just an old Ver-monter.' 'You've made a mistake,' I said, putting on the local accent,

'I'm not a writer, and I am-just an old Vermonter.' Their faces felland they went away with a puzzled look. Orage said that writing is

something that can be acquired, like a wart. People in general cannot177

discriminater.*"."TlX':;':::,:#:,:"-^writingandinothel things. 11 the introduction to Meetings with Remarakibl, Mro,Gurdjieffin a few pages, puts more common sense into a criticism ofcontemporary writing than in the thousands of words poured out eachweek year after-year by critics and reviewers. From ,iry earliest yearsI- {*"yr wanted to be 'a writer' but fate or providenc" pt.rr.rrt"d it.After I met Gurdjieff I no longer wanted tJ b" '" writJr' but I srilltvished to be able ro writc, thatls, to discover if I had anything to saythat would be usef'l for others and agreeable to myself and tJbe ableto express this in words that would bJclear to myself and to the readeror listener. And it took me nearly forty years even ro begin. I learneda g-ood deal from A. R. Orage, and {rom On the SublimeEy Longinus,and something from Pope, who said:

Truc ease in writing comes from art not chance,As thosc movc easiest who have leerned to dance.'Tis not enough the wor& give no offence,The sounds must seem an echo to the sense.

There is also something in what the duchess said to Alice in wonder-land:

'Take care of the sense and the sounds will take care of themselves.'F?..T" it is always an effort ro write. I would rather do physical

work like gardening or even house-work than sit down and ririte. sowriting for me is a good task; and when I have made the effort andhave done my stint I feel refreshed and stimulated. There was a time

,(yhf Glrdjieffhad.said that for me writing was an illness) when Iliked nothing better than to take pencil andIu<ed-nothng better than to take pencil and paper dnd writejust words,words, 'pouring from the empryinto th. .,noii'. This perioi I associareperiod I associatein my min{ with one of William Blake's shorter po.rirr, written whilesitting in the privy:

If Blake could do that when he sat down to shire,What could he do if he stood up to write!

Y:t y"ri"g has its us^es-it is a help in formulating one's thoughtsand feelings, and it is useful for recotdiie entertainins siories. o, o,rtEotdown tcchnical knowledge. And therJis tfrrfrigfrt

"r. ;i;i;g:

producing an objective worlc of literary arr.

By the end of October the loneliness had become roo much for me.I needed to be with people,again, so I rerurned to the school and began

19 wo$-pyttiog op the heavy framed double windows againstlhe

brtter trost that was coming.178

The Puttuy School, Vermont

In the middle of November it began to snow and it snowed until the

whole country was covered with a thick white shroud. After that, the

frost, when the thermometer sank lower and lower gntil it was thirtydegrees below zero; yet, so well were the houses built, all of them wood,

*i ,o*" a hnndred years old, that I never felt cold indoors. And the

cold outside w"s l"ss cirilling than it is in England on a raw day with th;thermometer at 40 degrees,-wh.o the cold damp North and East wincls

oierce the bones.^ Iorid. the school life went on as usual. At 'Thanksgiving', to which

my wife and younger son came, two hundr-edpeopfe, pupils and parents,

,"i do*n to di''" offt**ry turkeys brought into the large dining-room

by pupils to the sound of music. The dinner lasted nearlythrec hours;

bil,r; the courses the orchestra played sweet music and so:rgs were

sung. A most pleasant and fitting rl'ray for Americans of all races to

""l.ir"t" their'deliverance from-the 'ryranny' of the hated English

some hundred and fifry years before. 'Thanksgiving', to Americans,

has become as important as Christmas; and, like all 'history', Ameri-

can history has bien arranged, and is taught in schools, for a special

purpose-to glorify their famous freedom.

At Christmas my family, the four of us, met in New York, where Irented a service "p"tt**t for the holidays. Madame Ouspensky had

invited us to Fraiklin Farms for Christmas Day. We were eagerly

looking forward to the visit there, as they-alyayl did things ye{, but

on Chlstmas Eve we went with some old frien& from England and

their children to the midnight service at the Cathedral of St. John-theDi.rit. for the singing

"nd-the procession. Our younger son caught a

chill, and Christmlas morning had a slight temPerature, so I told my

wife that t would stay with him while she and the other boy went to

Mendham. When they had gone I Yent out to buy food, but every

shop, even the delicatess.rr, *-"t shut, and all we had was hdf a loaf and

,orri" t." and butter. This was our Christmas dinner. So there we were,

surrounded by food from all parts of the world in the midst of festi-

vities, alone in an apartment in New York on Christmas Day_existing

on toest and rea, wliich of course was all the boy could take. The other

two came back late that night having had a wonderful time with the

ouspenskys and their pupils, with food and drink of every description.

The following d"y the siik boy had quite recovered. After the holidays

we parted,-they to Long Island, we to Putney.

The Putney School, Vermont

So the winrer *rl.d:.*r,l skiing and tobogganing on the hills andslcating.on.rl" e6$. irr. ,i.r*"irJr"i gr"a"ily rose 'ndl,

when ity1 only.gight below zero i.t seemed .ofip"r"ti.'lly *";;. i *"rn"aindoors all the winter, spending p"rt of-y'time teaching Enelish. This16** interesting

"nj, usinf ,o*. b.ri"-f*,.r*, "tr"#ij* *",orage had.given us in his rit"-r"ry crasses in New yorrc, I was able toteach usefully.

Towards the end of March, though snow srill covered the ground,sap began to fow in the *.p1" trJ.r. Br;k;;;.'ffi'"X',_"uspours driven into the tree thriugh which dripped rrt. *p,"r"rr*, rirus'yeer warer. The sledge, wirh id fifry gallon't^anh, t".,,fi;;"i;;r"r,was got out, and every day rwo or tht..-m." and myselfw;'derir*the sledge throush * 6r.:r.u"*ir*, +. *p j"J.*ili"g"rr,.buckets into the i*L from th" i',rndr.diof maple trees. The sap was

P:*n::,the.sugar house and l"if.iJ.* to syrup. .When r wasnrne I had read a storvin the Boys, Own pap.,

"boot " i"rrily io V.r*or,tgathering sap in the'for.r, *il"ffijr,ti"g"r*g off, as they say. Abcar had appeared and frighten.d th.L "*y. This story had stuck in

f)r qemory But everything about vermonr ro me was familiar andfi1ndly, as though t had al#ays L"";;;.---- r4',^dr a

For six weeks we gathered sap_eig-hteen thousand gallons, whichyidded a hundred anieighry gdil"r ;?rilmost d.ricious syrup in theworld. There is nothirrgio eq-u.l it, .*..pr hoo.y in the comb.

",.ylT^:_1t:ring offiwas futirh.i r h"i to ,or, th, g"ilo;.L, ioro

've categories by taste and colour. At first !t was *J"a.rn t or*rg

a sip of this delicious swup from .".h .*_*a r*"lloorrio!-i;;ul.,but litde b-y little it begarito- sicken me *a ut th. fifti.th;Ji"" i,r"ranor bear the ,"sre o, Jr.r the sight *Jh;'r" stop sorting. So in life"od

il love, w-hat begins ",

,r."tri can become pofoo, "oJ

i,n"; t r*,as poison can becorne nectar.April came, with warm days and the break-up ofthe ice and meltingof the snow. The mountain iops appea.J i" rif i"g;;.H;;ht.

earth rejoiced that winter, witir it, hrr. ;"*h, ,i;;;;;;;;;",over' The road to the lower farm was t"." J."p in mud and the fierdswere mud; in May it dried and cultivation began again.

In addition to Beerzebub's Tales I read books about other wavs:Buddhism, Hinduism, tjl":r:T, "lr.

rh. i;g; ""i";; :; ;;;;r":i "Faith Forg-otten by G. R. S. Mead, " "oll..f;oo

of Gnosdc sayings. Inthese teaching ofvarious r."l ,.ligio* i;;, ;ffi;;;: iliiiill,r8o

The Putney School, Vermont

I found that I was only able to discover and realize truths to the extentthat I had worked on myself and pondered the sayings of Beelzebub.The effort t had to make to understand the inner and inmost meaningsof Beelzebub's ?a/es brought understanding of truths of other teachings.

Regarding my physical life, I have always loved the good earth, andcan draw strength through it, and my type needs physical work. As anorercise I compelled myself to do physicaljobs beyond the point whenthey bored and tired me, and never skimped them.

Each day t also did certain exercises that Gurdjieffhad given us, andsometimes while working in the fields or driving the ftacror when thesense and feeling of intense 'I-am-ness' would come to me, I wouldstop and put myself in a state of self-remembering and do a specialcxercise. In these precious moments of true self-consciousness life wasred and not just a dream, not just a succession of events consisting of'before' and'after'; and they were accompanied by a sense and feelingof 'I Am Now'. 'I Am, Father, Son-Yesterday, Tomorrow'.

Also, at this dme, I became increasingly aware of rwo streams oflifc:the stream of my daily life, of work in the school and on the farm, mycontact with people with whom I lived, spoke to and worked as anordinary man; and the stream of my inner life in which I thoughr andfelt and lived according to my understanding of the teaching; and if attimes this stream ofinner life seemed to disappear, I knew it was there;and suddenly, I was in it again, a drop in the {lowing, and again wouldcome the comfort and assurance that accompanies the Faith of Con-sciousness and the Hope of Consciousness. These two streams, thoughflowing side by side, never mixed. And I could not talk about my innerlife to those arorurd me. For this I needed those who had had similarexperiences.

Also I became more aware ofthethreemenwithinme*the manwhowas thinking, the man who was feelingt and the man who was workingwith his animal, his body, that was interested only in food, sleep andsex; and it was when these three men were working together simul-taneously that the experience of I Am-ness would come.

I had tentatively spoken about the ideas to some of the staff, butgot no response. There has to be a need in people before they take tothe Gurdjieffideas. Perhaps they were forrunate. As I have said, life atPutney, like that at Taliesin, was as near to a relatively ordinary normallife as is possiblc on this planet in the west. These nor yet spoiled youngpeople radiated something very good-the 'divine prosphora' thatBeelzebub speaks about perhaps; and there was good feeling among

r8r

ii

li

(

il

s,

The Putney School, Vermont

the teaching staff themselves and the workers on rhe estate. LikeTaliesin it was without masters or slaves; there were directors: Mrs.Hinton and the men ar rhe heads_of_departments, but no class feeling.During almost tr^/o years I never had an angry word with anyone noreven a feeling of resentment.

Plt, 1, Gurdjieffsays, '.E-very satisfaction is accompanied by a non_satisfaction.' The non-satisfaction was, as it had been at Taliesin, theundercurrent of war and the longing of something in me to be inEngland, and I even made enquiries at the British ionsulate in NewYrrk about returning to England and the possibiliry of getting a jobthere, bur was told I was overlge. So I accepld the siiuatiJr of i*Jio-ing in America more or less indefinitely. titre had lost all contact withGurdjieff and there were rumours thit some of our near friends inFrance had been killed by bombs. Letters from England came more orless regularly, ,foug! it took over a month for a"reply. My mother,th.er.r {ghq" spoke of the difficulties they were having *d th. troublewith bombs, but always ended her leiters (to pl."ite the censors, Isuspect) with:'but after all, we have a lot to be^thankfirl for., AnditT *.T:rFg to be alive, even to exist. 'A living dog is better than adead lion'.

In Putney, the war was remote. Most of the men on the staffweremarried and were not called up, and three others had disabilities. Theffij:"1 feelings c-ould not oiwould not grasp the significance of theterribfe slaughter of masses ofpeople in Germany and i.ussia, not as weslaughter animals with human" k[i"g insrruments, but with everykind of cruelry and torture of the body and mind that devils can thinkof on this planet, this festering sore in the universe. yet the fact of thewar was always a weight on the solar plexus.

. Al this dme.a lo,urg man named Elmer with degrees from one ofthefamous ag:icultural colleges came to manage the'farm. He was oneof those people who had read all the books *? ktr"- all the answers,and he soon began to tell me about processes of sowing and plantinrand growing thit I had known for yeirs, since I also fr"ai"t.i; J.*d ^

at an agricultural institute. Formerly, his patronizing manner of".*-plainin-g the 'scientific' way of doing things would f,ave irritated mebeyond measure and I would have retaliatid and a great deal of un-necessary friction would have arisen. Now I remem-bered Gurdjieff'swarning: If you allow yourself to be irritated and resentful

"t "no"th.r',behaviour you show yourselfweaker than him; and that it is sometimesr8z

The PutneY School, Vqmofi

necessary to rum the other che9k. So I compelled mysel{,-in this case,

to errdoie his displeasing manifestations and even asked his advice, so

that he began to tti"t *"U of me. But dl the time I kept 1y own ln*e.r

orsanic ,if to *w.lf; and was able to be not even inwardly resentfirl'

Efier knew everything and understood nothing.

But'Veng.*.. i, mine' saith the Lord. '[ will repay" It wasnotlong

before h. titd me to plant ttree thousand strawberry-PlTtt l" h4io"ght. I pointed oot ih"t the stems were rather woody, but he said

th.v"*"t" "ll

right and had come from a good firm in NewJersey' So

I pf"nted them"carefully, but they all withered and died, and when IiJkrd ot. of the local v.r*ottt men what was wrong' he pulled up a

f.* *d said, 'They're all old plants; they won't groy in this.soil"

When I pointed this out to Elmi, not without a touch of inner satisfac-

don, he iv"s mortified' I said that I would get som€ more, and I planted

*ottt.t three thousand, sffong young plants from Senator Aiken's

ootr"ry in Putney, in land th"t f,"d beett h1avily spread with farm-yard

i*oi'", using no artifrcials, and the plants glew and prospered and

yielded a .roi *orth more than rwo thoor"nd dollars. Another thin_g,

*rt1 ^June'I

noticed that Elmer was working-with some pupils,

,ho*irrg"th"*how to plant tomato plgtr. Round the root of cach they

put "

hindfitl of sup"rlphotlh"J". 'A dangerous thing' Irlought;'butir *"y be the Amei.r, *"y', thougl I had not seen artificial fcrtilizers-ur.d

on the school farm beibre, "nd

t s"id nothing. A few dap later Iwas examining thc plants, which werc all wilting, when Elmer came

along. 'I .*'tLd.ritand it,' he said. 'I planted them accordinq to the

latesiscientific ideas and they're a[ dying.' 'The cause is simple,'I said.

'You've killed the roots with super phosphate,' and pol$g up sgTe

olants I showed him. I added, '['ve not had a scientific education like

|oo b,rt I never would have put super-phosphate round the roots of a

il*,.'He went red and *"ili.d "qy. ftis -was

an occasion when as

'Gurdjieffsays, 'It is someti*"r t ""ti"ry,to

givc the other such a smack

that he will'forget his grandmother.' After this he never gavc T" "nyorders but onlyiaid, 'do what you thinlc is necessary.' In time he was

released from his job and became a butcher.

Not long "fte,

ihit I was sitting at dinner in the big dining ro9.* ythttuee of thf boys aged abour sevJnrcen. Ono of them began to talk about

science, ho* o.".ir.ry ir was, how things ought to be done scientifi-

callv. that scientists were now the leaders. 'What do you mean by

scieiice?' I asked. He hummed and ha'd for a time and then said, 'But

you know what science is. Everybody knows.'r83

iil

i,l

Tln Putney School, Vumont

'fut jo you?' I said. 'I'm asking what you mean by science and voucan'r tell.me. People talk.about rJ.rr.",

"r tttgy r"tt iu."i?.*"*i"y;

because the words sound grand they think the things ,fr." ilir.r*,must be e.l.ya[J grand. feople thinr. ihat if a thing i, i.i."tia"'-ii*""be good, Iike bombs and machine_grurs and powirfrrl poir*l ilfb,democracy, even Russia, yo.r thirrd is one, 5"""or" it io longer has aroyal Czar,.yet Russia is suffering un{er one of th" gr."t ;;,-r;.,the world has known.-And_ yo-rlcall ir,.democra &,'., r*J"i"i.aElmer's experiments, which had been so wasreful *'d

"*p;;;;;. h"was being "sciefltific",'I added.

one ofthe others spoke up. 'I agree with Mr. Nott. There's too much*o.r:hip of "science". My father;for example, h"s

" f"rm in V..r"o",

Td l" got a locd man tomanage it who haid taken d.gr."J;.;;rifi.farming. In-a year the farm hJ gone down and i"stEad "a;J;; "profit was losing money. My faiher fired him. But the *--rr"i

"brother who had never begn to college but dwap worked on farms, so

IIfr{* gavehimthejob andin rw-o years th"iar*w"r;g;il;i;;What do you make of that!'

flh.erc was silence for a bit. Then another boy said, 'At least, we havefreedom in America.'

'Freedom for what?' I asked. 'certainly there is more physical freedom

! {merica than,Xngland; it's a b-rgg* country. a"a

"*t"inf *.r"treedom to do what you want to do than in Russia and Germany. Butthere's more freedom in England and France as regards

" m"n', o*n

gelsgnal life; a man doesn't h"v. to be one of a .tJwd *a trti"t *afeel like them as he does-in A-merica. hr England

" **,r" to"g

"r-1"does his job, is free to follow his own eccenlric ways in his priv"ate lifeand to be interested in'n6miliar ideas, but

" b.rrir.rr**-ild;;"

would have to !" y.ty carefirl and not let his companioor r.oo* th"ti"was interested in them.'

This was getting above their heads. So I said, 'But you haven't toldme yhal you m€an by science, and since you can't d.fio" it I would:ly :o* the word originally meant the knowledge ofsomething; that is,

F:.h.q"g about something acquired by stud! and the result"method_ically set down in one's mind 6r on paper.'Origin.lly ,.i;;; ;;;l*study of philosophy which in tr* *", * .fror, to ,rrd.rrt*J;i;,man's life is and what it isfor; an enquiry into the meaning and aim ofexistence. Now, the word science h"r be.om. so degeoei"t J ,rr"i lrsome idiot of a manufacturer prepares a food from wfich

"ll the acJve

elements have been .*tt".ted^*i puts it in a pretty package *J .n,r84

Thc PuneY School, Vermofi

it .a food scientifically prepared and scientifically gacledl everybody

will buy it. Your biead,:for example, is scientifcally baked from

scientifically prepared four so that nothing good is left and it tastes

Iike blotting paper. Perhaps you have noriced that I never eat it. In Newyork we 6a ,".t bread, the bread the poor Jews and Italians_eat. InRussia I could go three days on the black rye bread done- tlat the

pcasants "t"

,ndJwith a littli butter and rea was well and satisfied.I .yoo Americans despise the superstitious Hindus and their attitude

towar& the sacred .oio, bot yori "t" worse' you worship the word

..science,' and look what science is doing to us now in the war in Europe

and the Far East. There never has been iuch a war and on such a scale ofdestruction. Science is the sacred cow of the West.'

I enjoyed talking with the young Americans whose minds and

feeling"s *"r" oot yJt spoiled *d r"t as are those of most adults. Yet, Inoticid

" differenie bei*een the American chil&en, and the seven or

eight English pupils and those American drildren_who had sPent some

yi* i" I"gt*d or France with their parents. The latter were drawn

iogeth"r ",

it *.t., and they had an unspoken something in co-mmon

*fii.h the rest of the pupfu did not have--their minds and fcelings

were more developed -th-an

the untravelled American cJrildren, they

had more poise-simething more in their irurer world; and I thought

of what "

i"tion could be, !io.o " combination of theXnglish- and the

Americans: the thousandr -of y".tr of experience and knowled-ge of

world affairs, the toleration, ofthe Englisb, and the Power and adapta-

biliry of the Americans. But men do not govern their affairs accordi'g

to common sense, nor do they order events in the world or their own

lives-events move men. Eviry event is the result of a cause and thc

result also becomes a cause, and so on without end. tn nations and in

individuals it is the same, and rhe case would be hopeless if it were not

that from time ro rime teachers in touch with higher forces from above,

men with real power and understanding, are sent to show us l Yay to

rise out o{, esJ"pe from, thc endless turning of thc wheel of life' To

escape from this^machine is real keedom aJopposed to the 'freedom'

that everybody talks about.

With one of the 6rm workers, a strong young man, I wal- planting

cabbages. We often worked together "nd

thet" was a friendly-riv{rfb.m"L us, and he would otoJly set the Pace to try and get ahead ofme. But although I was already an old man according to American

I8J

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I

The Puney School, Vermont

standards, I had leamt at the Prieur6 how to economize energy and howyo work mg{odically and, except in actual trials of strenfth, I couldleeg up with him. In this planting of cabbages, he as usual, iet the pace,but by establishing a rhythm anda methoJl *"r able to k..p ,rp'withhim, and though ! llanged nearly eight hundred cabbages in *i a"y Iw"1 on]f twqrT-fiv9 behind. Another time we were siything a largeorchard together and although he tried to keep well ahead I ias abl,by maintaining a rhythm with the scythe, to [e"p close behind him. Imade it an exercise to compel the organism to *ik. more effort whenit wanted to stop.

As for the inner exercises, they never became casy. Each day t had tomake an effort to start them and an effort to continue them. i fly, or amovement of something, a sound, would distract me and dirr.rt *yattention; ('Where my attention is, there am I') or I would find myselffallinq asleep,-or_tensing myself instead of riaxing. More oftcn myattention would be caught up by something or othir in the stream ofassociations-phpic{, emotional or menral-which begins at birthand never stops until death, and which even rhen

".cotdtg to Gurd-

jit$ may go on by momenrum for two or three days. Caight up inthis stream, my attention would be dispersed in day-6t.";tg, o-r iodisputing with an imaginary person, or t"lking to myself. This-streamof associations, cdled by psyihologists 'the sir."m of consciousness',is really the sfteam of 'unconsciousness', since it flows on mechanicallywithout our participatirg ir it, unless we make a'conscious' effort todo so.

'When my exercises were interrupted by exterior and interiorhappenings I would have ro re-colleci myself and begin again; and ITgyt"{ more red force from the exercisis than from working itr th"fields. The force came from constandy compelling myselfto oi"r.o*"the inertia of the organism and its urwillingnesi to'do the exercises.There was almost always the struggle between '[' who wished to dothem and 'it' which did not wish io do them; as if the organism wereqa.way fulfi[ing its functions ofthe denying part against the afirmingof 'I Wish'. Constant struggle between thc affirming and denyingleads to rurderstanding--of onesel{ those around or, *ld the universe'.

Yet it seemed to me rhat, aparr from brief periods of self-nsciousness, real consciousness ofself;, I for the most part. went aboutconsciousness, real consciousness of self,, I for the most part, went about

my work in a state of semi-consciousness, like an intelligent animal.

consciousness, real consciousness of self,,

r86

The httneY School, Vermont

As I have said, I enjoyed working with the men-the carPenter'

decorator, grorurdsmanl dairyman. In the evenings I often visited them

in their hoitrr, as I did those of the teaching stafi, and talked to them'

The workers, the men who had served their time in their jobs, were

scornfql of the'educated' Elmer, yet a bit envious. As one of them said:

'You see, Mr. Nott, I haven't been educated. You've been to Oxford

and cambridge. You're educated. t feel the loss of it. It's a drawback

not being educated.''How-old were you whan you left school?'I asked'

'I was sixteen.''Yet you learnt the necessary things-to- read, to write and to do

sums. And what you don't know about farming in Vermont is not

worth knowing. I ieft school when t was thirteen, having learnt nothing

-not evcn to "do ,rr*r. I read and wrote without schooling' But, like

vou. I feel the lack of education. I mean real education-learning lan-

io"g.r, algebra, the principles of drawing and music, or medicine' Ii"utl"a y"Itt workin! in a shop learning to- be a sdesman and in my

father,s *"r"hoose, r,ihen t .onld h".tr" bien learning useful things, like

cerpenrry or building. But after I w-as eighteen I lgsan to-be fortunate

in meeting men frori whom t could learn about life and, if having ex-

oerience Jf p"opl" and li6 is education, then I have had a good one. Atih. ,"*" time liave always been sensible of the handicap ofnot having

had a good grounding in the three "R's" in my youth''- -' 'ThJr.', so'mething-in thaq' he said. 'I mean educated like Elmer' In

this countq,, ifyou'ie been to college you're a somebody, ifnot, you're

like me, a nobody.''But Elmer oiy koows how to farm in the class room,' I replied',[ know. when he tells me to do something I listen and then do what

I know ought to be done. Things do19 his way areruining the farm'

But he, as h-e's been to college-though he knows nothing about practi-

cal farming or knows it wr6ng, becaise he's got it from professors and

books-is looked on as educated.'

Science is one of the sacred cows of the West; there is another-education.

Here, where everyone was called by their Christian name, as all over

America, no one used mine. only rwo people in the whole establish-

**, *.r" not called by their Christian names-the highest-and the

lowest (at least, the one with the lowest pay), Mrs. Hinton and myself'

Yet myrelations with everyone were friendly.t87

The putney School, Vermont

Mrs. Hinton was a remarkable woman. she instinctively sensed howyoung people should be prepared for life, how they should be givenop-portrurities for their general development and noi only have ui"lessinformation rammed into them. Her iystem worked-it"drew out' ofthe pupils what was in-tlrem, allowed their potentidities to grow.

D"rTg my business life in New yorh l had been struck bylhe slow-ness of the reactions of business men, who would often tik round asubject Ft * minutes or more before coming to thc point. whenyou spokeabout something to Mrs. Hinton she would listen, think amoment, thel Sivg an answer, yes or no. 'With the pupfu she neverspoke a great deal, butwas

"l*"yr oherving without iis 6eing obvious,

always weighing up. She was one offour retarkable Americin womenI have met; the others beingJane Heap, Margaret Anderson and MurielDraper.

summer came again, and with it the camp, and the various activities,y *h:l my familyjoined, my wife and y*g", son coming up fromLong hland.

During the summer I rook some of the pupils in English, which wasinteresting,.sti nulagrng and profitable, and I made moie money in oneweek of half days than in a month working flrll time as a labourer onthe farm.

.I might have conrinued to get money for life by teaching at theschyl, but somerhing- T Tys94 or events, brougk me to a"srop. Aneed for a renewal of family liG was growing iri *", *d

" ne.t to

work with people interested in the cuidlieffiieas. The school worldof Putney,-though among the best of iti kind, was beginning to besomewhat limiting. Teachers as a class are limited, and riey haie littlegerlonal experience of what they teach; even business peoplc are lesslrmrted

Gathering sdp, Putney School, Vermont

r88

20

MENDHAM

ar rm BND oF sBITBMBER we loaded uP the car, dog and dl, and withrcgretful hearts left Puoaey and drove to Lo9T, Vall:-y, Iqg ldand.

Hire we lived in a wing of a beautiful rambling eighteenth<entury

timber-builthouse, belonging to frien&, an old coaching station, stand-

ins in eroun& and qardens."y., io.*t Valleylafter Punrey and Bratdeboro in Vermont, seemed

foreign and decaying. Foreign because, against the background of the

rc"l ild American 6-i["r, *ith fine estites with parkland encircled

by wdls or fences, the small businesses were nrn !y fott and sccond

generation Central Europeans who seemed not to belong to the countryl-aten, and the nrenial work was done by them.

Though I missed the school and life in Vermont it was very satis$ing

to have-a 6*ily life again, and my wife and younger son were |1ppyat The Friends Academy, and the elder at Puurey. I soon was-able to

gct money by doing carpentry jobs and shingling-the roofs of houses'

i,Iaterial iif"'fo*.-d pe"c"firlly and we renewed our contacts withfriends in New York, forty miles away.

Though we no longer went to grouPs we !'ad not lost touch with thc

OuspenJkys and I sJmetimes had talks with Mr. Ouspensky. 4,.4"cnd of Ociober I began to feel a need to work at Madame Ouspensky's

community, Frantdn Farms at Mendham, New Jersen Ouspensky

hisrself was in charge of groups in Neri'York, and not often at Mend-

ham. At the end ofmy l"st t'itit to Frar*lin Farms I had 'had words'

with Ma&ma. During a talk I had said, 'You know, working here withyour pupils in the Cird3ieffsystcm, without tp-"4pq about him. and

neetzibib's Tales is rather like trying to spread Cbristianity withoutmentionine Iesus Christ or the New Testament.' This had hurt and

shocked hJrio-.*hat. But she so oftcn spoke about being 'sincere',

and in this respect I was trying to be sincere. Shordy after this I had

returned to Pugrey. The memory of this incident set uP a rcsistance in

me, and so began'th" diog-doog-' "I" wish; "It" does not want. t'Itn'

r89

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Mendham

does not wanr because it will have ro humble itself and perhaps berefused.' I brooded over the idea, trying to ovcrcome trJ resisi"nceof self-love *i-"t"ryt wasting a lot of nervous energy. I said to my-sel4, 'IfI put alide thc idea I shall save this ncrvous *"igy, but I sha[ teinwldly weaker. If I make the effort and ask, evcn if-t'am snubbed, Ishall be stronger.' h th€ end I made an effort and wrote to her atMendham, and at oncc aGeling of srength came to my solar plexus.

lhe pllyd, saying_that if I obeyed the conditionr, oot io speali "bootGurdjieffor Beelzebub's Tales at Franklin Farms, I could coie. I went,

3nd spent some satisfactory weeks looking after pigs, repairing barns,harvesting the co-rn vlth Lo-rua, Madame's-grandsonlandioing-variousoddjobs. I talked with Madame abour Curdlieffand the ideas,-and alsowithsome of the pupils, butin very general rcrms. At weekends manypegpJg came from New York; and at the big dinners we pur on ruxedosp{..bt"jk ties. Again, ig w1s as if Llme place had bein transportedbodtly from Surrey, England, to NewJersey. The same feeling of

"oo-straint-people so busy trying to'remember to remember'thimselvesA3t tlef forgot to be'themselves'. Even some of the old Orage group,who, for twenty years had been addressing each other by their-Chlsti"no1-"1 began-to call each other Mr. and Mrs. They took literally therulg tlat pupils were nor to call each other by their Christi* on*.r,and whcn I encountered an old friend in the kitchen and greeted himwith 'Hallo, Bill, how are you?' looks of consternarion a-ppeared onfaces. The good idea ofnot letting people become jocularly f"iriliar hadbecome transformed into a constiained pedantry. 'Every'stick has twoends,' 'With every good thing goes a 6ad thing.' Anj in oneself,, aswell as groups and organizations in this work, oni har constantly to beon the watch not to forget one's aim and the aim of the woik, andbecome so identified with one's own attitude to thc work and with theorganization, that one loses sight of the real aim.

At Mendham I often felt the fowing of the current of the octave,both ull and_down. I found that by working on myself,, using the lifearound me, the contacts, as reminders, I was able in my own rir"ll *".,,to learn a good deal, yet the group itsel{ little by little, owing to morl,and more organization was, I felt, moving awry from the firidamentalajm.9lCurdjieff's teaching. The same thing can be seen in the study ofthe litde we know of the groups of early Christians; the same with'theteaching of Buddha and Mahommed. Pupils soon became identifiedwith their own attitude to the work, and if they have money or pov/erthey are listened to by others and these others are in-fu"oc"d *d g"t

r90

Mendham

pushed away ftom the original teactring. But wc have Beelzebub's Tales,

i too.lrrton. and a guide;-and the "*"tcir"r,

movements and dances, ifetrictly kcpt to, *itI ftap people to keep in tle right qlth' ek1fs,t"oriirrg'ro the law oftl" J.t".'" in tfus work as well as in other

tcachings"and in ordinary life,-organizltions litde by litde get further

and further away from their first intention.

I liked Ouspensky's pupils, some very much. But, in relation to my-

36lf, it was "r

iith"y *Je in a magic circle. Gurdjieffrelates that he saw a

yezidi boy trying'to get out of a circle drawn around him in the dust.

gu* *h* Curi3iefflrcnt up to him and trie{ to pull him he.could

oo, g", out. Onf when the circle had been broken was he able to

cscaPe.

Eieryon" and those in every organization 1e1ds t9 Slt inlo a magic

circle-'to become hypnotized, and-untilthe circle is brok:n by anothcr

force there can be tJ.r."p., which perhaps is why Gurdjieffso oftcn

il"ia"..a the Institute *dgto,tpt-ald Peo.*' 'llhe Sufis, when work

hal reached a cerrain stage,-'liquidate' it and begin something new.

Now it happened that] a *i[" "*"y

on theoutskirts of Mendham, a

*".ti"a "o,rii",

pupfu of Ouspensky, was living' This sympathetic

couple. *ho* i L"a n"o*" fir some years, invited me to dinner.

tr,ioj an excellent meal the t"lk turnid on_ Gurdjieff's book, and

thev aiked me what it was abour; (Beezlebub they callcd it.) As I had

n"*. "g.."d

to conditions with Ouspensky and his pupils.::gTdhg,ro, ,o.ikion about Gurdiieff and his writings outside Franklin Farms

I saidi ,Ir's rf,. giUt. of jli" "work", the body of Gurdjieff's ideas.It is

an impartial criticism of the life of man on this earth, a relation of the

.u*o^of h* fall and an explanation of the means for his redemption.

There is everything in it that relates to this work; there is all that we

can know "bout

[6 from the atom to the megalocosmos. It is writing

of the highest kind; it is sciptur-e. Gurdjieffsays t* h time.to come

** will"*rite epics on a partial understanding of some of the truths

contained in it. ftl other wirds, it is an objective work of art.'

''We've never seen it. Isn't it possible for us to read it?'

'You must ask Madame Ouspensky,' I said. 'I gave Mr' p-uspensky

a copv ten years ago. If Madame agrees to a few of the older pupils

f*#* it I will t"-"d it to you.' They seemed grateful and said they

wo.rld"sp."k to her. They thar askedabout Gurdjieffand I,gave them

,o-" of my impressioni of him and some examples of the yay he

worked with r"". we passed a very pleasant, and what seemed to me

fnritful, evening; and ff* that at last I had established a real contact,

I9I

Mendham

a bond, with at least rwo of Ouspensky's pupils. Also, with the warspreading and conditions in Europe going from bad to v/orse, and nonews coming from France, it seemed that we might never see Gurdjieffagain, and something useful might be done in America-with-thereading of

-Beelzebub" Tollt in groups a new impetus could be givento the work in ouspensky's growing organization. I felt quite chJerfurabout the pro_spect. But man proposes and organization disposes.about the prospect. But man proposes and organization di

The next day was Sunday, a bright cold day in earlycold day in early December.About mid-day I was sitting with others in a frosty field Lusking cornwhen someone came 1r4 " message that Madamj Ouspensky irishedto see me. At once I felt that something srrange had happened. What,I could not imagine.

Madame was in bed (she had to rest a good deal at this time) in herlarge handsome room.

She looked ar me rarher severely and began, 'Some things I likeabout you, other things I do not like.'

''What is it you don't like?' t asked.'[ do not like the way you break rules and condirions.''What nrles have I broken?''You have been talking ro rhe S-'s about Mr. Gurdjieffand Beelze-

bub's Tales.''Yes, I have. But this was outside Franklin Farms. It was outside, in

their own house.''This is mere quibbling. You know very well that you agreed to

conditions.' She was angry.'Not quibbling,' I said. 'And I don't see what I have done wrong.,

.V9u pgeg{ to}9ep the confitions nor to speak about Mr. curdjieffand Beelzebub's Tales to our pupils.'

'Only here. I made no conditions with Mr, Ouspensky and his srouoin New York. And since Gurdjieffand Orage ldd the'forurdrtiJn, jfthe worlc in America t could not have

"gr.ed to such conditions. For

seven years in London I kept the agreement not to fiscuss the book orMr.- Grrdjieff v/fuh your pupils, even more stricdy perhaps than tneeded to do. You agree that I did sol'

''Well, yes.''And I have kept conditions here in Franllin Farms,

diftculties. But outside I consider myself free.'often against

Mendham

and said, 'But don't you teach Mr. Gur{ieff's system? Isn't all yourwork based on what you got from him? Mr. Gurdjieffwas your teacher

and he still is mine.''This is quite another matter,' she said, and again began to berate me.

And now a something that had been quiedy simmering in me for yeats

suddenly came to the boil. My feelings got the better of me and Ireplied, very emotionally, 'But this is too ridiculous. For me to try towork with your pupils in these circumstances is impossible. And, youknow, your pupils have got stuck at the note 'mi' and to get to '6h'they need a shock and the shock would be for them to meet Mr.Gurdjieffand to read Beelzebub's Tales. As for men my staying here is

useless. I will leave tomorrow. But let me say that I persondly like youvery much and Mr. Ouspensky too, and I am sorry to go away fromyou. The stumbling block is Mr. Gurdjieff and his book. He is myteacher. I have looked on you both as friends, and our relationship has

been that of friends, this I have appreciated for it has meant a great deal

to me. But I see that a teacher-pupil relationship between us is notpossible. And now I must say "good-bye".' 'W'e shook hands and Ileft the room. This was really 'good-bye' for although she lived fornearly twenty years more I never saw her or Ouspensky again.

At lunch that day I saw the S-'s, who could not look at me. Theyhad the unhappy expressions of a man and woman threatened wither-rpulsion from Paradise, and I noticed a percePtible change in the

atmosphere of the Ouspensky pupils; the temperature, as it concerned

me, had dropped. The pupils radiated a something towards me-theman who had committed the unforgivable sin. Only Lonia, MadameOuspensky's grandson, showed no coolness. He came to me while I was

feeding the pigs and said, 'You're not really going, are you?''Yes, I'm leaving tomorrow.''But when shall we see you again? phen shall we see you again?'''Who can say? Perhaps soon, perhaps never.'The next morning, as I waited for the car to the station with some of

the pupils I noticed that they edged away from me. Formerly they had

rushed to help me with my heavy bags. Now, no one lifted a finger.And when we got into the train at Mendham they avoided me. Thiswas the last straw. I moved into another coach and never saw themagain, except one, and him years later.

From that time we had no more contact with the Ouspenskys citherat Mendham or in the groups in New York, though Madame sent us

gifts at Christmas and I wrote to her.r93

'!hen I can't let you have any conract with my pupils.'She continued in the same vein as if trying to *ak. me feel how

gravely I had misconducted myself. I saw the absurdity of the situation192

Menilhan

As time wenr on and I pondered the situation I saw that I had actedhastily'nder the influencc ofmy emotions; perhaps because I was morc

"":*:d r: the Ouspenskys than I realized. t iihed them as human beings

and l.had alylrs enjoyed the convivial gatherings at Lyne place aniMendham; this was not 'work' in Gurdjieff,s sJse, it was a humansocial thing, and I missed it. Yet I understood better that when ous-penskycut hirnself offfrom Gurdjiefi his work began to lose its value.His philosophical school had become more and -olr" groop, ofmentalquestions and answers. what life there was came frim the phvsicalwork, at Mendham. Yet all through, Ouspensky had been ,*aifyy*q.g on Fragmefis of an Unkniwn Teaihing and, being a traineijoumalisl and writer, possessing intellectual inlegrity, h. i"s able toscparatehisrhoughts from his persond feelingt *Jro itoduce a volumeof Gurdjieff's sayings beyond price; and by-this alonl, perhaps, he haspaid Nature for his 'arising and existence'. i-Ie had giverime tire almost.:*plT: "'anuscript ro read and I redized what imasterpiece ir was.Also, although ouspensky's school had little value so f"r'"s inrr"r d"-velopment went, nevertheless- it gave something to people. It helpedg9 k""p -"g their interest in ideas-that are abovJ ora*ry m""herri"allife. And tfre pupils will be ro some extent prepared when at some rimeor other they will Gel a real need to *ori. * themselves, and whenthey meet a red teacher, such as Gurdjieff or the work in another form.

Individual Russians have given a -great

deal to the worrd, but as arace they are much more rigid in their menral attitude to lifc than the

!ngt:!. Thgy represgnt in tfieir existence the limitless stupidity ofman.consider collective firming again. As I have said the tilets of Rorri"after the revoludon adopted the idea of 'collecdve 6rms'. They knownow that three or four times rhe amounr of food in propoiion isproduced by people growing food on their own land, in iheir owninitiative, and they feel that the collective sysrem is wrong; yer in theface of 6j".Fq still persist in rheir attitude, and for

"fo*y yr.rr,because of collectives, have been short of food and have h"d to imoortwheat from the hated 'imperialist capitalists'. The same with ti.i,satellites-Hungary for example, whicf,before the revolution e{portedfood.

ouspensky's rigid attitude was Russian and it would not allow himto admit that he had made a mistake in cutting himserf off fromGrudjieff and, like the Russian rulers in regard tJcolective farming,

-altho.ugh !" ftk something was wanting trl Ua to hedge hi, popfi,in with rules to preserve his attitude towards Gurdjieff er t h"ve

, r94

Mendham

said, when Gurdjieff saw that a phase in his work had served his

purpose, he would liquidate it and begin something new. Ouspensky

lontinued always to keep on in the same way, and so had got furtherfrom the source and further from the aim of thework. Cutofffromthesource, his work had bcen steadily tho"gh imperceptibly, under the

infuence of the 'merciless Heropass', losing its vdue.I suffered a good deal because of this incident and began to see that

if I had acted more intelligently I need not have caused such a commo-tion, which sct going a train of events that went on until after Ous-pensky's death. If only our foresight were as good as our hindsight bothour inner and outcr world might be different. But wc are as we are;

I was as I was; thc Ouspenskys were as they were, and events moved inthe only way they could. A lot of energy is wasted in speculating about

'if'. 'If'he had done that or this.' 'If only I had done so and so how&ffereirt it would have been.' 'If Napoleon had acted thus instead ofthus he . . .' and so on. The truth is that nothing, while we act uncon-sciously, can be &ferent. A few words, said in the wrong way' can.

have far-reaching consequences. Now that I understand more, giventhe same situation, I could say the same things in a differcnt way and

so put myself in a strong position instead of a weak onc. Whcn one

has realizid that one has allowed the feelings to become identified witha given situation one should suffer remorse of conscience and thus help

repait Ae past. This idca is in Ouspensky's Sttange Lfe of luy Ossokin,

the manuscrit't of which he had glven me at Lyrc Place-the idea thatrmless there is an irurer change brought about by work on ourselves

we cannot help but repeat our actions in the same and in similar situa-

tions. ln this work one learns that one has to pay for everything-either in this life or another. People often think and feel that if theywere in another place, in a &ferent situation, another country, they

would be &fferent, happier,-and sometimes they ate; but though their

outer life may changi for the better dieir irurer life may remain the

same or even shrink, deteriorate.'The causes of all misunderstandings may be sought for only among

women,' says Gurdjieff. This may be taken both literally and as re-f.rri"S to the passive part, the lower emotions. When we act fromimpulse, from a prompting of the lower enrotions (which t

"lly "tjdl we have and are negative) things go wrong. A few heated wordscan s€t up an emotional attitude which may take years to break down.

However, since women feel more than men, and arc more influenced

by their feelings, it can be said that the cause of much misunderstandingI9J

Mendham

will be found among them. Men are more logical. Yet women canrecover from the effects of an expression of negative emotion quickerthan men. Gurdjieffdso says that if you are about to undertake a newproject, talk about it with women-then do the opposire. But of this,enough.

196

2T

LOCUST VALLEY, LONG ISLAND

FRoM JANUARY uNrIL aucusr I passed a not unpleasant existence inLocust Valley. I was offered a post in a library but found that t couldmake more money and bc freer by doing odd jobs for people-shing-ling roofs of houses at which I became very good-carPentering,gardening and so on, work that I liked. Not being an American-cigzent

iwas noieligible for any kind of responsible position. But we had real

friends and many acquaintances, some ofthem very rich Long Islanders,

others poor school teachers and salesmen.

Once at a cocktail paffy t found myself talking to a good lookingintelligent woman, a R.ussian, and we discovered that we had mutual

friends among the White Russians in London. t happened to mention

Prince Youssoupoff, Rasputin's killer, whom I had met. 'You know,'I said, 'he had such a resdess haunted look that I asked a Russian friendwho he was. He told me that it was Youssoupoff, who hail said that

he wished he never had killed Rasputin. It had been a mistake and far

from improving things had made them worse.' 'It's true,' she said.

'Rasputin was not the charlatan he is made out to be. I knew him. He

w"r th" only man who helped the Czarevitch. And he saw the way

things were going and tried to infuence the Czar to do something tostop-the useliss slaughter and destnrction. He said openly whal many

people were thinking, including peolle in England like Tord- Lans-

do*tt., that peace ought to be made. He was not a saint but he did notkill people, and he didnot live on the sweat ofpeasants but tried-to help

theto, and he robbed no one. But because he tried to in-fuence the Czar

to stop the war he was regarded as a nuisance by the power-possessilg

belngi and had to be got rid of, And because he liked wine and vodkaand iomen,

"t ev.ry ** does or would if he could, the smug looked

down on him.'There was very much in old Russia that was good, that gave a riclr-

ness to its inner fif., th"t made it'Holy Russia'. The revolution killedr97

Loca* Valley, Long klarul

that rich inner life ofRussia; and the whole world is poorer and emptierfor it. But the momenrum set going by cosmic forcei and the abnoimallife of man during the nineteenth cenrury was such that the war couldnot be stopped; and it went on to the next great war and sdll continues,and life goes-dow-n a$ down the scde; and now, only thirry years later,we are faced with almost totd destmction. That ir, uol"s somethingexceptional in the cosmos-happens, or that by means of higher forcesenough men with pov/er, because of the threat, will have thiir attitudeto life changed.

The eflects of mental power are asronishing. I was thinking of theeffects of the Ouspenskys' mental power on th" minds and Gjings oftheir followers, most ofwhom were men and women ofthe intelli-gentworld, and how their lives were infuenced by it-and chiefy for gJod.Yet the mentd powers of Gurdjieffwere a hundred times greateithanOuspensky's. Think ofthe mental power ofJesus, by whicf, his words,spoken two thousand ye_ars

"go, c"n still influence men for good; and

tl.re priests and police-and Roman soldiers ofhis time whose fo*., *",alle t9 destroy his planetary body, have disappeared so tha-t nor eventheir dust gr^memory remains. The ideas rnd th. teaching ofJesus arestill a vital force. Ideas, which cannot be seen or touchJd, "* *or"powerfirl 4T qf**, dictators, kings, police, judges and armies.The outer life of man is always changing; his iJeas-on philosophy,subje-ctive moraliry, psyclrglogy

"r. good ooly for a nine d"yi wonder,

yet the inner teaching of the great teachers and real saints remains un-changed.

In thclast fifty years there have been such changes in the liG of manon our planet as never before in recorded history: the First Great war,revolutions in Russia and china, the discovery oioil which has broughtthe new plague of cars and aeroplan.r *d bombs, the virtual f,is-appearance of the horse, the use of chemicds and poisons in producinsfooa; tn. Second War, the hydrogen bomb, rh" ir;k-;t"?;fi-;;:lizations in the Far East that had much good in them, the irin curses ofcommercialism and communism, and so on and so forth-all this during "

my own short life. Yet inwardly, man remains the same.

In the summer we were- again invited by the Frank Lloyd W'rightsto spend the vacation with them at Talieiin but I was waiting 6r apassage to England.Then the Raymond Gram swings offered ir th"i"house in Newfine for a few weeks. This we

".."ptid as it was only

rg8

Loarct Valley, Long Ishnd

two hundred miles to drive instead of a thousand, and we were able

to visit our friends at the Putney School.

All this year I had been thinking about getting back to- England.

l5ere was-the need to find some way of getting money for life, ofpreparing for the future; also, there was a feeling in the airthat the war

*"r "o*lttg

to an end-at least, that it was only a matter of time before

Germany would give in. Being fifry-seven years old t had no hope of a

job in Ameri"" *I io1oo" I puimyname down for a-passage to England.

It was difficult to git "

paisage; one had to be ready to leave at {ort}';eight or erntn t*enty-four hours' notice, and- if Peace w€re to break

orit the rush would be overwhelming. Also when the soldiers eventu-

ally began returning home to America I might find it impossible to ge1

".j'ob, Jnen

"t " g"id*"t. One can be poor in Europe, even England,

with dignity. In-America, to be poor w"s regarded as in England up

to r9r4-a sin.

At the Swings's house on Putney Mountain life wassatisfring.'Wehad only two oititots, a man and his wife from the old Orage grouP

who were now working with Ouspensky. I happened to mention

Beelzebub's Tales andasked p. if he still read it. 'No,' he said in a special

tone of voice, that wasn't his at all.'You see, Beelzebub's Talesneeds

a lot of mental preparation and we haven't got that fat yet.' - -'Oh, come off-it,1.,'I said.'You are talking just like Ouspensky does.

In fact, you are using his very words. You know very well that tlrebook does not need

-ment"l PreParation", but an emotional attitude.

Why do you speak in this *iy tftet the years you sPent with Orage?

You have been hypnotizedby Ouspensky.'He looked

"t *" io surprise, thought a bit, and then laughed. lYou

may be right,' he said, speaking in hiJown voice. He was a sympathetic

man but weak; one of those many who, not having acquired a measure

of individudity, unconsciously imitate their teachers.

Locu* Valley, Long Island

r99

BOOK IV

ENGLAND

22

RETURN TO ENGLAND:SOME NOTES OF ORAGE

ON THEMAHABHARATA

wB IraD nEEN in the Raymond Gram Swing's housc- two wee'ks

when a telephone call camc from a government ag$cf thal-the:.e was

a passage fo'r me on a ship to fngland io llo days' time'.Hastily we

o"i.L"d-,rp our things *J *itho,rt being able to say goodbye to our

h*d, at'pur,rey Sclool drove suaight ro Locust Vallcy, Lo-ng Island.

There was no timc even to see friends in New York; only another

oartins. The last day with my 6mily was painful; they c,ame p \ewt*t i"iA me and ,"id good6y. at the doJk gates and when they had

left t turned away and wept; again, a sort of dying.'llle ship's ,*oling too- h"d b.en tunred into a dormitory for men,

forw of u's, all Britisf,. On deck the loud speaker was busy sending out

-rrl.*..*** in the bu[]ing tone that the American police use, as ifwith a mourh full of cold poiato: 'Lisren awerybody, listen awery-

body!' then the instructions, winding up with'That's all,' and it came as

" inl*, as soon as the ship left the doik, to hear a rather high-pitched

Enslishvoice with "

nrootlr full ofhot potato say, 'Attention please,

ir,.it io" please !' then the insuuctions, winding up with a polite,

'Ihank you.'fU" nn, night I turned in early. fhe next moTi'g goinS.on d9c! I

saw an "-*iig sight. We were in the centre of the front line of five

lines of ships, slxriof them, sreaming ar the same speed, each keeping

ir, it".". ri' A" fil distance *rt" tli" watchdogsfthe destroyers and

.ori"r,o, alert for submarines. And day after day all these ships kSpt

th"i, p1""" on a calm sea in the hot August sunshine until we reached

,t "

itior", of old Sngland. The nights were pitch black and we might203

Return to England

have been completely done on the ocean yet, the next morning all theships wcre-there still in place as if they had never moved. A itrikingexample ofhow men can elficiendy organize themselves and the worksof their hands in defence against the forces of material destruction. Theterr days from New York to Liverpool passed peacefully, aparr fromthe burial at sea of a very old lady who died from heart failure; andone startling event of which our ship was the cause. Four nights out Iwas dreaming that I was in a big car with another man, who was driving.The e-ngine sorurded powerfully as we wenr along, then suddenly liepolLd into the grass verge and got out. 'The engines have stopped.They've broken down,'he said, lifting the boruret. I woke. tt was earlymoming and the ship was quite still, no vibration from the engines. Iwent on deck, and saw that we vrere done on the ocean, drifting, a

perfect sitting target for submarines, the convoy a faint smudge on thefar horizon; only a small corvette which steamed towards us gave us alook round and made off for the convoy. 'Wc had been told that ifany ship broke down it was to be left to its fate; fifty-nine ships couldnot be put in hazard for the sake of one, but for saGry's sake they hadgut us in the centre of the front line, because we had on board, amongthe five hundred.passengers, rwo hundred Canadian women, the youngwives of English airmen, going to join thet husbands in England.From a position of almost complete safery we were in one of absolutedanger. The life boats were hoisted out in their davits and we were linedup in our life belts. No one showed signs of panic or even fear; therewas a conunon feeling that nothing could be done except to wait for asubmarine and, iflucky, to get into the boats. We could only accept thesituation and resign ourselves to whatever might happen. When we arefaced by forces greater than our owu there is nothing to do but submit.All that I could do was to remember myself and not give wayronega-tive feelings of worry and anxiery. I recalled the many times I had riadabout and imagined such a situation*taking to the boats and drifting onthe boundless indifferent ocedr, but it is one thing to read about andimagine, another to be faced with the actual fact; it i6 thc differencebetween knowing with the mind, and personal experience. llhis inci-dent so impressed itselfon my thlee centres that, over tw€nty years laterI can recall not only the actions but the feelings and thoughts arousedin me.

Hours passed in suspense. 'We even sat down to lunch as usual, butwith lifebelts on, waiting for an explosion, then, in the afternoon, theengrnes started up again full-speed ahead instead of the usual halGspeed

20.4

Return n Englanil

of the convoy. We went to bed inourlifebeltsbut, wakingnextmorn-ing, to our enormous relief we found ourselves as if by magic once

again in the centre of the front line.To go back a bit. Hardly had we lost sight of the cloud-capt towers

of New York when my feelings of grief at leaving my family were

diverted into another subjective state. In the crowd ofpassengers eyeing

each other as they sauntered the decks I saw a pupil of Ouspensky, a

man I had never met to talk to, but had seen in a group of men around

Ouspensky on my first visit to Warwick Gardens, and once at Mend-

hanr, and had formed the impression that he was one of Ouspensky's

oldest and closest pupils, 'high in the work', as they say. t spoke to himand we began to talk. It was a realjoy to meet a man who was interested

in the sami ideas as myself and with whom it was possible to discuss

them; I realized the truth of Gurdjieff's saying that this work establishes

a bond between people stronger even than f"*ily. 'We had meals to-gether and spent a good part of each day talking. H9 w1s unaware thati h"d left th- ouspenskys and why, and I wondered what instructions

Ouspensky would have given him had he known we were to meet. As

for myself I was only too pleased to talk about Gurdjieffand Beelzebub's

Talesi even had Ouspensky forbidden our meeting I doubt whether,

6ced as we were with the possibiliry ofbeing srurk at sea by submarines,

this pupil would have refrained. I speak of this because ofwhat followedin nngland. However, we had not been talking together long before

I began to be aware of how litde he understood. H9 knew th9 t oryof the system better, perhaps, than I did, but as for the method ofself-sensing, self-remembering, selGobservation, he, like dl of Ouspenskytpupils, urderstood almost nothing. In the course ola {1f or so, he

brg* to question me about various aspects of Gurdjieffand hi-s teaching,

*d "t

he was serious I gave him some of my notes to read and some

chapters in typescript of rhe Seconil Series. He kept o1 saying, 'B1t {risis fascinating, this ii most interesting, We've never had this. Why has

this never bien given to us?' I could only say, 'Ask Ouspensky.' The

Tales of BeelzebuE aroused his greatest intcrest, and I lent him my copyof the typescript, which he read for hours at a time, sitting on a stair

of the companion way, which was the quietest spot on the over-

crowded ship. 'Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteous-

ness for they shall be filled,' I thought, and was glad that in my small

way I was able to do something towards appealing one man's hunger.

Our contact made all the difference to our life on the ship; a kind oflife which, on all my other voyages, twenry-six long voyages in all as

205

Return to Englanil

a passenger, I have often been bored. It would seem logicd that peopleherded together on a ship cut offfrom land for six wccks or even ten&ys, would try to get to know each other and that one would be ableto discover at least two or tluce who would be able and willing todiscuss vital ideas. My cxperience is that as soon as people find them-selves on a passenger ship a veil comes down over their real selves-ifthey have any-and their whole time is given up to trivialities, trivialtalk, trivial doings, trivial gosip about others. Young people can firtand dance and for them it is not too bad. and one long voyage can be aplcasant and unusual expericnce. For me now it is an infliction; and myidea of hell is to be condemned to sail for ever on a 'pleasure' cruisc in ahurury passenger liner without even the privilege ofjumping over-board.

This present voyage was different. Apart from the talks with mynew friend, there was a serious atmosphere in the ship and a good feelingamong the passengers and the crew; faced with ever present dangcrpeople opened out. By day we played deck games or read and talked,at night there was a concert, a bridge drive, a chess tournament orsomething of thc sort. It was one of the most enjoyable and satisfyingvoyages I have had.

As we were twisting and winding our way tloo"gh thc minefields ofthe hish Sea towards Liverpool my friend said, 'You know, I can neverthank you enough for what you have given me. It is manna to thestarving. If you will form a group to rcad Beelzebub's Tales when youland I will join it.'

I agreed to do so but told him that he, being Ouspensky's pupil, mustspeak to him about it. He said that as soon as he arrived he would goto Lyne and speak to the people there and send a cable to Ouspensky inNew York for permission. We parted in Liverpool. 'In a week's timeyou shall hear from me,'he said.

But never a word or line did I have from him, nor did I see him againuntil some years later, after Ouspensky's death, when I met himaccidentdly at a Gurdjieffmeeting, and he explained why: he had beentold that if hejoined my reading group or had anything whatever to dowith me he would have to leave Lyre. He was a good and sympatheticman and later helped me very much at a timc when I nceded money.

The days across the Atlantic had been days of unbroken sunshinewhich continued when wc arrived i1 Fngland, and all the time in thetrain on the slow journey to Harpenden I looked out of the windows

zo6

Return to Englanil

and drank in the English scene. ft was one ofthose cloudless late summer

a"rr, *t * the lieh;on the 6elds and the gentle haze are so perfect that

it-i* t "pp*

,ro"*h.r. else on this planei; it seemed to me that never

h"d t s"en any country so beaudful, any rlen so fine or women so

"ttr".tirr., andthc peopie, after the slow-speaking, slow-moving serious

Americans, ,".-.i enlrgetic, purposeful and even gay' The ache in the

;"il;i;t, th" longit[ of.tit. p"tt four years, the gnawing pain ofttot"""i.t".t, dlr"ppJrtJd *d n"i.t returned' A taxi was waiting for

*" "r-,i"

station irid ,oo' I was sitting with my father and mother in

the same roomjust as I had left them four years before, when I thougttt

i*.Ja rr"o., i"" them again; a repetitionof the same situation' in the

,"*" ,rill"g. even, with ihe same'feelings' Yet something in me had

changed.

Sitting together that first eYenlng- fi-t:"- *?t a fistant explosion and

-., *oIr., -e"rr"

" iump. 'What's -that?' I asked' '[ suppose it's abuzz

il;tj ;"id ;y frti.r, as if he were speakin g of a car down the road'

*J*!* on tiking. Almost every night and sometimes in the daytirye

-" m"ra the buzibombs. One i"y i"h.tr my father had gone.to the

kitchen to make a cup of tea, the house was shaken b-y an explosion'

;i;" first thousht was that he hadleft the gas on andhad been blown

"plilfi"a i," "?ra

found him calmly po*ing out tea. 'What's the

matter?' I asked.

'How do you mean, the matter?' - - -'fh"

"*pdrion! I thouglt you had blown yourself up!'

. ^ .r'Oh, *iat,' he said wiih a faint intonation of contemPt' 'Another

buzz bomb, I suPPose.'

It had fallen in the park at the back oft}e house'

I rom"ti*", wondeied why Nature had not endowed me with some

of my father's instinctive phiiosophical calm and instead had given me

; ;;h ;i -y mother's ?estlrrr-t."noot emotionalism' In r94o' after

,lt" "igft,

of the Gre"t Fire, he had been turned back from ,the gates

(Alder"seate and Cripplegate) of the Ciry of London' because his ware-

il;;; fl;ttty ft b"eeo'bombed and was bu:ning-to tle ground

*irh rh" r.r, of the city, and his life's practical work, his business, which

had lasted over sixty y"*r, h"d b..i dttttoytd' He had tumed back'

gr"" it*" the stairs at Aldengate Street.Station, taken the next train

fio*" *a told my mother, 'I',ion't be going up to the frtl again" and

had busied hi*sif with something else. He was then about eighty.*ifr, *r"ffrt of dying se.m.d nJt to worry him, for he was sure tbat

207

Return n Enghnd

he would go to heaven, the heaven ofthe 'Wesleyan Methodist religion.My mother, on the other hand, was always internally consideringothers, concesred about what they might be thinking of her; and theMethodist religion gave her no hope or consolation, only a feeling ofguilt for having occasionally drunk too much, which might prevent hergoing to heaven. She often spoke about it to me and, although Ireasoned with her and tried to comfort her, she could not rid herself ofa feeling ofguilt, that God would not forgive her for drinking alcohol.The religion that was a blessing to my father to her was a curse. Yetexcept for occasional fits of depression she was gay and cheerftrl. In her

sixtics the fisease of the craving for alcohol had disappeared and a newlife, of good works, began for her. She became the charity organizer ofthe county, and everyone admired her and loved her.

I hadnot been home long when the Vz rockets began to arrive; there'was no wanring, only a devastating explosion. On one of my visitsto London I had been to Staples Inn in Holbonr. A quarter of an hourafter I left, walking up High Holborn there was a shattering e4plosion:Staples Inn, 'the fairest kur in Chancery', had disappeared.

At this period ofthe war the streets oflondon were very emPty, r"ithhalfthe shops closed and most windows boarded up against fying glass.

The city that Ihad known so well was a rnass of ruins; its churctres,

shells. People went about their business unconsciously alert, like deer,

always sensing; and with the feeling, 'It probably won't be me.' I was

always relieved to get back to Harpenden. Though litde was said aboutthe bombs everyone was intensely aware ofthe danger. Human beings,

like animals, can accept the possibility of being destroyed, and naturemercifirlly prevents them from realizing a desperate situation-in a

besieged city, the eruption of a volcano, a hurricane, a sinking ship, the

Jews waiting for the gas chambers. After the first shock a situationis often accepted. Usually it is only in dreams that the terror and horrorare realized.

One morning, hearing an enormous drone of aeroplanes, I went onto the common and looked up. The blue sky was full ofplanes towinggliders,.moving slowly in the direction of Holland-hundreds of them,each full of young men in the prime of manhood, and I thought, 'In aIittle while, an hour or two, hundreds of those young men now fullof life will be dead or dying, some even before they've reached the

ground, sentenced to death by lottery, and no one nor nothing couldstop it.' They were going to Arnhem.

zo8

;jJ;; ;;;;fift, though I.looked te;n leals {::s':'^'Lh*

wrot;to the friends whose country house in the first *TTt ot tnerwar

Return to England

With the possibiliry of sudden death or injuries {ways ":,{:HIof their mindls and feeiings the English seemed more human; their thtck

**t.f "lt"""liry

h.d 6..", "t

lJ"'t, pardy melted' and I was often re-

"td; ffi;;Er.'Ct "urtg

.,, "l*"ystotry

to remember that we and

everyone we see are mortaliand Beelzebub'i lelyes1to, ]i;:"dt::T::::io i#Ut in beings an organ,like Kundabuffer but which wouldhave

ifr".?i"",f ";;;ilt"g ttiem'always to be conscious of, to be aware of,

,trr -4"

of their owni""th "nd

the death of everyone around,them:

Ooly thit has the possibiliry of destroying the vaniry' *"::t:i::llli'touchiness, resentment' greed for mon€y and oower-all that whlcn

sooils mutual ,"l"tiorrrfri!, *ftitft codd fe helplful' and which hinders

tLem ftom becoming normal men and women'"-i..""r".f the fisfrarmonization of the Fifth Stopinder,

"g661ding to

Beelzebub, irothing on this planet ever goes as expected or even as lt

l";;;tll" tl'tra gi' rrt""t' tife is akaJ's confounding the'experts"

ffi;i ";;;; ?"-p.rts'-the scientists, educationalists, Psychologists,

*liri"i*r, *d ,o oit, *ho are almost always wrong'-but even those

5ffi;H;1" [d;"trelves who are endowed with a measure of

;;;;ili, *d who know that they do not know everything!

It was necessary for me to get a job as soon as po.ssible,l'orde1 to

,*d *orr.n to my family in America' I went first to the Publishers' but

thev wantid not-help but paper, the supply of which was cut to tne

ilri".'fi;r.*"-n=.*ar -hi *"t" coruricted with the heads of The

Iriitft-ct"".i1"d','ir"J*e to interview them' as men with Plblilhing;;;;l*; were needed, and they offered to speak Qt.*t'At the inter-

;#:;*/il;:;;;;o *'u, and I discovered that the personnel

;i;.;;; "o

;id fri"odof riine who assured me that he would recom-

mend me. So I returned to Harpenden with a hopefirl feeling.; but not

" *"ia did I hear, urd a friend-hinted that it was my age. They were

hJ;;;tecond home, yet I had a feeling 6hxi semsthing had haP-

;;"1;;.m as their l.ttJtt htd stopped-six months before' Now' the

ffi-;;;'Eil; i; i.ad. come^and see us and cheer T :'P.'.l;;;;i hi, *ord, oi o"tt four years before when I had said

""taU"* 'Our old life is finished' Everything is breaking up' You arc

il;.;: i, e*.' X. is gone' It will nevlr be the same agajn' Nor was

it,;?';i;i-;;i;.i1 t?o.-d that his wife was running th; estatlas,,a

J"ioy At- and market garden, and the place' Iike everywhere else m

Return to England

England then looked neglected. They and cveryone were overworked.Yet she had managed to keep going. only the hoose, with its centuriesof the atmosphere of the lives of people who had lived and died there,thc house whose radiations were still of peace and well-being, seemedpcmranent in the changing world. yet that ancient housJ with its'immemorial elms' was, like everything else, formed of planetarymaterial, always injeopardy, in a state of change; it could be jestroyeiin a-few hours by fire, or in an instant by a bomb from Germany; evenwithout that, time, that wean away all things, was changing it im-perceptibly every minure.

I was at home there: My essence was satisfied by the work on thefarm and mypersonaliry !y the aristocratic way of lifc; and being usedto-a farming lif" *y work was usefirl and a suggestion was maJe thatI should stay and share in thc running of the pliie. But I needed moremoney than they could afford to give me, though I did stay for someweeks.

My friend o{ten had difliculties with the foreman, a tough northcognlrym n. One morning at breakfast, seeing her pensive I asled why.'It's that foreman again,' she said. To divert her f told her that I hadhad a letter from my son at Puhrey, Vermont, in which he related thata man had been killed by a bear while hunting in the forest not far fromthe school. She seemed not to be listening, but after a pause said,

,youknow, I like bears better than men.' There was a gen-eral laugh fromevcryone but her.

Afrer some weeks I had rl offer of a well_paidjob from my brotherin Luton. Hats being severely rationed, his factory was turninq out allkinds of baskets and bags from wasre material, and doing velry well.He had a man spraying material with a very primitive *ld io"tra*tsmall ancient machine,-and suggested that I taki over the running ofit.\eeding money 19 bldly J could not refuse, bur it was a horrible job.There was no outlet for the fumes of the spray, no extractor fan andev.el.with a mask my_lungs were coared with ihe vile spirit fumes, inwhich it-was impossiblc to work more than four hours a day; a violent**g: from working at the pleasant old country house and eshte inthe Chiltcrns, but it brought in money and I was able to send a goodsum each week to my family in America.

I began to manipulate the authorities and in a few weeks was able toget a permit from the Board of Trade to buy a modern spravingmachine and exrractor fan. With these installei *ork ;.'*y';Asimple and I was able to employ a girl to help and by working a few

2ro

Return to &tgland

hours a day drew in over twenty pounds a wcek, !9yl1o sixty pounds

now. I li"id *lth my father and mother in their little house and went

ro Luton each day. Again I was back in the family busines, this ti.mc

in Luton wherc I'waftorn and working in a room of a building that

my maternal grandfather had built about r87o to start a dycing busi-

ness.

Thc whccl of time had brought me round to the beginnings ofmyexistence on this planet. Events had, it seemed, compelled me to followa course, back to f"*ily infuences, back to beginnings once more,

when I thought I had been moving on and out; and agin it seemed that

there was sot"thing else that t had to work out in the pattern of my

existcnce, even to 6'e able to Pay for my arising-my working as a

faaory hand in my younger brother's facryq, and by doing it con-

sciousiy and to thi best of my ability, _without mortification or re-

sentment, I would be working out something negative in my existence,

in mvself. and at the same time, in some strange way might bc helping

my grandfather, which idea was connected with what !9r{jietro.ftenr"iaio pupils aboutnot mortifying thcir grandfather, andhelping thgfwho h":vJgone; though'grandfather'has more than one meaning' He

also said ti'at if fathers *i[ dtin in the comfortable 'britchka', sons

mu$ follow in the springless 'firmanka'.

However, I extraitedl good ded of pleasure, profrt and- religion

from this new experience: profit in the shape of morrey,-rdigion in

pondering GurdjiJff's t ""hiitgt,

pleasure in doing a-job well' A,few oflh. ** who h"d been in the family business since I was a youth were

still there; formcrly I had regarded them as they, the workers, *dy",the owners, now I was able t-o work with them as a man like themselves

and to like them.I was not unhappy, I no longer suffered from homesickness; but I

needed my family.In Luton as in London there was tli"

""."pt*ce of the fact that at

any moment a Vz or a buzz-bomb might faf without a warning; and

altilough the factory had a strong dug-out the new bgqrls gave no

time ti go down io it; and the 'secret weapon' did fall, but not

on us.

Before leaving America I had trieil without success to get a_complete

set of the nngliih translation of the Mahabharata,,of which Orage_h3d

so often spoklerr, so I searched London and by chance YTt int: JolnWatkins'i shop just off Charing Cross Road and was delighted to be

2tl

Return to Englad

able to buy his lasr ser. I took it home and began to read it, and I readit wery {ly. ! consisted of eleven closely priit.d

""1;;;;;;;.and a half million words, probably th. ionge* book in ,il" *"rri. rset my_selfthe task of reading it through, wrrilh took o".,

"f.".. rr i,.,a good task, ir needed

"11 *i attentioi and perseverance, for the Indian

translator had put the _Sanskrit

into pseudo-'Engtirh_bibfic.l i;;;",which was tiresome. Even so, the siory .o*.r"rhro,r!h-;rh";;i"io,has preserrr,ed_the essence, the favour'and the to"Joi"oi""' ;;;"original, which makes ir more satis$,ing than the n"g**rriy MJr,Milman or Romesh Dutt. The uahibhiatai, * obj;;;;;Jk;-f;"of the highest kind in literature and the reading ofit is i***r.t" rowarding, it.gp*r- up new horizons of ideas ira ,fr""el" ;J,;";"from the Bible and Beelzebub's Tares,has affected *" *o"r. *d or"i"

"treeper.impr-ession on me th"n any book I have read. Ivhil. I ;;;"di"gI searched the files of The Ny Age to see whar or"g" rr"J *ri**about it and madc the following

"ir".tr.Tfie Mahabhanta and rfte upanishads are worrd crassics that the worrir

has lnply not yet diseouered. piato had to rie comparativery unknown forneaily two thousail.years-the Indian classics *ilt io*fortoily i;;;;;i,;-sand years ad will effierge as u-p-to-date os ever. ntit r"enir* y;;i;;"will make their reputatioi out of-them. schopenhauu, rt, iii iii":ri-it,covueil them, anil beume a notible ph;toropi* on a partial **iiii"g'i1them.

*

.,Y:n :*l !4sticisn, can be gatheredfron the Mahabharata thanfron the

whole oJ moilern my*ical writings. *

Tfre Mahabharata rs the greatest nngre ffirt of rituary reatiot of anyailture,in human hlstory. ! .i; dinicuh f; o,1i . di*ry *tiri ir-' r"*r;:r r" ;i,mind that conceiued it; and the efort tg do so is almost iiself aliberal eilucation.Theiliad dnd the odyssey are episodes h it; and the cet ti"t a ni"i^"^Tiir^llrnplythe recordof asinglecoitusationon theeueof o* of ;t, ii"yi;;;;.Never was a writer more currently aware- of his readei tha" vyio, ;l;;;'rfu;.Ganesha, who had transcr.ibed it unirei vyasa's irireaioni i;d ;;a';i;"dthat he should be released tf o.nce the meaninf shoulil ccase ,r'ti p,tri"i, w'*,anil he uas not released uitil the end.

Tahen as literature simply, as the most corossal worle of literury art eueryeateil, i* exanplg and inspiratio, (,re ds uital anil *rttifir* o, ii;;l;i;It contains euery literary form and deuice known to ailihe tii*"ry ,a'r"t',

2t2

Return to England

every story ercr enacteil or turrated, every ltuman type and circumstance euer

createil or encoufiered.

Unlike the reailing of deriudtiue works of art, the rcading of the Maha-bharata is dfirst-hand experience. One ends it difuently just as one eftterges

ffirently from evuything real. *

Ancient Indid stands itt the same relation to us'childrui of Europe as

ancient Egypt stooil to the'children' of Greece. Euro2te today is dneient Greece

writ large. India, moreouu, is our ancient porent, our oldest racial ancestot,

our Adam anil Erre. *

The greatest books are only to be grasped by the total understanding, which

is called intuition. Idiom is thefruit of wisdom or the tree oflanguage; and

experience k both the end and the beginning of idiom. And what, agah, ismore familiar than the exlterience of'having been done good' by reading a

great worh, particularly o great mystical or poetical work, like Bkke or

Mihon, still more by reading such works as the Mahabharata? The'suLconscious' of eaery great boob is vastly greater than the corscious element, as

the subconscious of eqery one of us is many times richer in nntent than our

conscious minds, *

The three great treasuries of stories-the $reeh, the Scandinavian and the

Teutonic, were all deritedfrom the East by divers ways, and the source and

container of them all is--The Mahabharata.*

Vyasa says: The reading of the Mahabharata destroys all sin, andproduces virtue; so much so that the pronunciation of a single sloka is

sufrcient to wipe away much guilt. This Mahabharatd contains thchistory of the Gods, of the Rishis in Heaven and on Earth, of the

Gandharvas and the Rakshasas. It contains the life and acts of the one

God, holy and immutable and true, wlio is Krishna, who is the Creatorand Ruler of the Universe-who is seeking the welfare of his creationby means ofhis incomparable and indestructible powers, whose actions

are celebrated by all sages; who bound human beings on a chain, ofwhich one end is life, the other, death; on whom the Rishis meditate anda knowledge of whom imparts unalloyed happiness to their hearts. If aman reads the Mahabharata and has faith in its doctrines he is freed fromall sin and ascends to Fleaven after death.

23

so' wHrLE My DAys were spent in the factory spraying materials withdifferent coloured spirit, wearing a mask *i g"dd"B to protecrmyself against the poison, my evenings were rp.t iwith my fatf,er and

T:rh...t, reading- the Mahabharata, with frequent weekends at myfriend's country house.

- I began to understand why men work in dangerous trades: it is eitherbecause they have been brought up to it, likeloal miners; or for thelove of money, like those who work underground in hazardous con-ditions;.or $dll because of an instinctiveiense of responsibiriry to-wards their families, to get 'good' money. I was in the iast ,"t.gory.

Summer had been bright and rainless, and the hot dry weatheriasied

'ntil the middle of October, when the rain came,

"nd ihen, in Decem-

ber frost and snow and a bitter winter with the whole earth bound iniron. Then-again the everlasting miracle ofspring, when the dead blacktrees and fields came to life, and in tvtay, with the coming of springcame also the incredible, wrbelievabl" tt"*r that for

"r rti" *"t'*"1over. I wenr ro London, andwatched the people celebrating in Trafal-gar Square, and found myself standing on ttre same spor rihere I hadstood rwenty-seven years before, when news ""*" of-th" armistice inthe First World 'War, 'rh.e war to end war' of r9r4-rg. Everything wasrepeated-the same great crowds singing and dancing; *.o

"od *o"**,

THE END OF THE WAR

PARIS

strangers, kissing_and hugging each other in frenzied joy. For hours Istood there watching, sharing their gladness that the-yiars of horrorsharing their gladness that the years ofhorror

.se a heavy weight was lifted from our hearts.were over; glad because a heavy weight was liftedTwenty-seven years before I had been one of them and had berievedthat it had been a war to end war and that there was to be ,A NewJerusalem in England's green and pleasant land'; now I knew that thiscould not be and that while men rJmain as they are, sleeping machines,

214

The Enil of the War

while the vital spark of heavenly fame lies buried in the tomb of the

body, life wil b; the same. Watching the crowds l_saw cverything as

it was all those years ago, everything repeated, only the exterior slighdy

changed.When I returned to Harpenden that evening, windows everywhere,

for thc first time in nearly six years, were lighted up.

Both of my parents were now over eighty, but while my father (who

had had only one serious illness in his life as a young man) was getting

feeble and could not wdk very far, my mother, who, when young' was

always ill with nerves and had had to spend a lot oftime in bed' was now

", ".iirr" as many women of sixry. My father had always smoked, and

drank in moderation, while my mother had often drunk immoderately,and all their lives they both drank quantities ofstrong tea and coffee

and ate what now would be considerid too much. 'llhey were both still

handsome; my mother, beautifirl, and they had good hearing and good

sight. They knew everyone in the town and everyone loved them. Theyhad reached, so far as it can be attained in this world, a happy old age,

and I often thought how fortunate I was, in spite of their limitations

and narrow Methodism, to be born to such Parents.For them, I was always a litde 'queer', a bit of a black sheep. My father

never could understand why I had not stuck to the drapery business

and become a manager of a shop, and my mother, who was very fond

of me, always felt that I was not of their world. I had suggested drivingher about in my car which I had got from storage but she always put itoff, so one day I asked her, 'Why don't you let me drive you? Youlet the other three (my brothers), but thcy've only driven in England

while I've driven all over Europe and America. Why is it?'''W'e11,' she replied thoughtfully, 'you're rather different from the

rest, aren't you?'The difference was pardy that whife my father and brothers were

only interested in business, business was the least of my interests; it was

only a means of getting money for life needs. Thejr main topic ofconversation was business, which rather left me only a listener, so Imade frequent trips to London to meet friends of my world with whomI could eichange ideas about the arts, literature and affairs.

One of the frst people t looked uP was my old friend Professor

Denis Saurat. He spoke of Gurdjieffand said that he would like to meet

him again and asked if I could arrange it. I did try later, several times,

2t5

-

The End of tlu War

but events never fitted !, and they never met again. saurat at this timewas working on a book dealing with the occilt tradition in rnelishLiterature, using the word 'occult' in its real sense, .hidden,. o

_ Spenser espgcially shows its infuence. In one of the cantos of theFaery Queen there is a partial description of the enneagram:

The frame thereof seemed partly circulare,And part triangulare; O worke divine!These two the 6rst and last proportions are:The one imperfect, mortalef feminine,The other immortal, perfect, masculine:And twixt them both a quadrate was the baseProportioned equdly be seven and nine:Nine was the circle set in heaven,s place:All which compacted made a goodly Diapase.

saurat traces the tradition from chaucer down to Milton and nlalce.Shakespeare (or those-who

_wrore the plays) h", " g;;;-d.J;i;.

"i*T"?.; you cal go through the plays ;ri,ir; kind ottuning f"* *a

wlcn rr drscover the short passages written in by a Master Mind, passasessometimes put in the mouths ofknaves and fools and clowru. rt

" o".lut

tradition in literature was particularly strong in the time "f

Eli*t;th.After Blake, apaft from hints it dir"pp."ti from literarut rrrtr"rrtbooks continued to be wrirten'abouttit) until the publication irrnieDaumal's Mount Analogue, which is in tle esoteric-tradition.

saurat showed m. noler of some other books he was workine on andwhich were evenrually published-The End of iear,-Gr-ir-;f1,People and,T'he christ at chartres, which are

"lso'in th.'o.*lt t'r"J-

tion. At this time he was head of the Lutitut Frangais in London, butde Gaulle removcd him when he came ro power, b."",rr" S";;Jdir;_greed with him on some counts.

Denis Saurat, like Orage, was an extraordinary man, in Gurdiieff'sdefinidon of the t"t*; tl"t is, he had individ"aliry il ;il" ;?;;;-l9""lity y$ depending on the resources of his own *irrd,

""r"i ooruS Own tnrtlaflVe.

As soon as the mass psychosis had died down after Germanv'ssurrender, and liG had beiome less abnormal, I set about t.vion a l.tto Paris, but this was impossible unless one had definite bJda;. ff.had heard vagyery that Gurdjieff had gone into the ."""oy *J *"ithe Hartmanns had disappeared. 'Ihen my wife wrote me from Americathat Gurdjieffwas back in paris and thai the Hartmanns were in their

zt6

Tln End of the War

house in Garches, an outer suburb of Paris. Although it was forbiddento send money to France I managed to get some smuggled to Gurdjicffby a sympathetic Russian friend, and I got in touch with thc Hart-rnanns, and my wife sent food parcels from America to them. Theyasked me to visit them, so as soon as I was able to give the passportpowers enough unreasonable reasons why they should give me a visato Paris I went there, arriving at the Gare du Nord at midnight to bemet by the Hartmanns. To meet'Foma' again, whom I loved as Iloved Orage, whom I had not seen or heard from for six long years,filled me with joy. For three days we did litde but talk-about our liGin America with the Ouspenskys and the Franlc Lloyd Wrights, andhow the Hartmanns had existed in France during the occupation.

Madame de Salzmann came to see me at the Hartmanns in Garches,so I related all that had happened in America about the Frank IJoydWrights, the Ouspenskys and the Orage group. fr"y said that I shouldnot have cut myself offfrom Madame Ouspensky who 'is a wonderfulwoman'. They were right; I ought to have acted morc intelligandy,from reason; not in a state of agitated feelings. And I saw how often inmy life I had spoilt relations with people ttooogh reacri'g while in astate of hurt Gelings.

Gurdjieff, they said, was still in his apartment in the Rue des ColonelsRenard, still toasting the different categories of idiots'. Madame Salz-mann had brought him a lot of new pupfu shortly after the war hadbegun, all French. It was from this nucleus that the large Frcnch groupgtew, which eventudly became the head aad chief centre of the studyand practice of Gurdjieff's teachings; the last big group to be formedaround Gurdjieff, it became the first in importance; the American, thesecond group to be formed and which supported Gurdjiefffor ncarlytw€nty years became the second; and the Russian and English ofOuspensky in London, which had been the first, became the third.

I supposed that I would find Gurdjieffas usual xs his 'ofrce', the CafEde la Paix, and made two or tluee visits, sitting and waiting and drink-ing coffee at his usud time of appearing there, without a sign of him.At last I went to his apartment, up the dark familiar stairs, and rangthe shrill bell. The door was opened by himself. He looked at me fora moment, then said, 'Ah! Come in.'

At once I was struck by the look in his eyes-the deep compassionand sadness. He gave me coffee in his litde store room, where we talkedabout America and my family, then hc said that he was expectingsomeone but that if I was free I could come back to lunch at half past

2t7

The Enil of the War

one. It was as if the six years sincc I last saw him had been like last weekand nothing had changed. Yet everything had c.hanged; we hadchanged, the world had c.hanged, and generally for the 'worse.

When I returned, a young Frcnchman who spoke fuent Englishopencd the door. There wcre just the three of us at lunch. Gurdjiefftold me to give the toasts of the idiots, but I had forgotten the correctsequence, and the young Frenchman took over. 'When it came to'hopeless' Gurdjicffasked me, ''!Vhat idiot are you?' I had been thinkingthat perhaps my 'idiot' had been changed and wished to know what he

thought, so I said, 'I don't know now.''But you should know. A man must know himself. By this time you

'I don't know,' I said. 'You must tell me.''[ not tell. You tell.''I(/ell,' I said. 'I was "hopeless".''Yes. You really hopeless i&ot. But you still lcnow what you wish

to be? objective or subjective?''I lnow that t do not want to be an objective hopcless idiot.'So the other guest proposed the toast: 'To the health of all hopeless

idiots, both subjective and objective. That is to say those who are can-didates for an honourable death or those who are destined to perishlike dogs. He who works on himself will die like a man; he who does

not will perish like a dog.'I related to him the events of the past years in America, about the old

Orage group and about the Ouspenskys and the Frank Lloyd Wrights.He listened carefully, but when I began in a rather injured tone tospealc about what happened with thc Ouspenshys he cut in shaqply:'But dnt's all finished, that bdongs to the past. Now must begin some-

thing new.' He began to speak of something else and we continued totalk.

The apartment was full of light and life, positive vibrations fromGurdjieffand pupils who had worked there over the years, and t lefttremendously stimulated and with profound satisfaction, but at thesame time with dr.p remorse ofconscience that came from a realizationof what I was and what I ought to be-the enormous distance betweenGurdjieffi knowledge and being, his degree of inner development and

my owrr. Had I been an objective hopeless idiot I would have said,

'What is the use of going on? I shall never reach Gurdjieff's state ofbeing.' I would have given up thc work, or perhaps rationalized myattitude and said that now I could work alone-which I could not have

ztB

T'he Enil of thc War

done; but being a 'subjective hopeles idiot', I had realized the hopeles-

ness of tryinglo get-real and permanent inner satisfaction from the

things of ordinary lifc; I had seen my cmptiness, non-entitiness, my

insignificance-and my own significance, and had gaine{ a measute ofthe:hope ofconsciousness' and the'faith ofconsciousness', and had rea-

fized tG necessity of being in touch with a group and a Teacher.

A heat wave descended on Paris, and for a few days it was so intsnse

that it affected my health and I could not go to sec Gurdjicff Garches

was on a hill and the heat bearable ; but below, in the city, it was worse

than a heat wave in New Yorlc. I stayed indoors during the day,listen-

ing to Hartmann composing his new opera Esthu, or playing pieces

thit he had composed during the war. His music was without e trace

of Gurdjicff" infu*."; in fact, it seemed as ifhe was making an elfortto .o-!or" music that was entirely his own.

-As Orage, tecause of

,o*.thirg in him, had had to work out Part of his destiny thrgugh th9

New English Weehly, so Hartmann was having to follgy his paththrough his music. Whether their writing or, music would have bcen

better had they then been in contact with Gurdjielfis not the question-they had to follow their own path. In this Fourth

.Way each, in his ornrn

fashion, has to work out in life what he has learned from the bacher

as I, in my small way, was trying to do. Neither Hartmarur nor Orage

ever saw -Gurdjieffagain

after they left him to stand on their own feet

but the whole bf their irurer lives to the end of their planetary existence

was permeated with anil subject to his teaching and his-infuence; the

samJcan be said of Dr. Stjoernval and Alexander de Salzmann.

When the heat lessened I again went to the apartment and Gurdjieffasked, 'Why you not come before? Where have y9u been?'

Gradually l-learned something about what hc had been doing during

thc war. Uadame de Salzmenn had brqught many of her pupils to him.

With these he had started a new group and had worked intensively

with them and had taught them new movements' at the Sallc Pl.y"l.flese movements were different from the dances of the demonstrations

given in Paris and New York, the ones we had learnt; movements

ieally, rather than dances, some very complicated, very beautiful, vcryimpiessive. Many of them were based on the enneagram. After seeing

thcrn and listening to Gurdjieff answering questions of the pupfu at

meals, I realized rnorc than ever his power as a teacher. After workingnearly tw€nty years in Paris, making apparend-y no impression on the

Frenih, where his pupils had been Russian, English and then Americans,2t9

The Enil of tlv War

he had seized the occasion of this new material and had created some-thing vital, of use for bis work, with these young French people, whichin the course of time has, as I say, become the chief of the three mainGurdjieffgroups.

I spoke to Gurdjieffabout my living in paris and working with hisgroup. He agreed that I could. 'But what about family?' he ask1d.

,They

in America. You bring them herel You have business herel'I said that I saw no way yer of getting a living in paris.

. lFirslresponsibility- is to familyi he said. 'perhaps you srarr groupin London.' ft was a long time before I was able to have groopr.

I retumed to England and resurired my spraying acevitieJ in thefactory..Life, generalln yls in a srare ofchaos; weweielike ants, busilyengaged in trying to build a new hill out of the ruins of the old- As forthe

'ide-ai, I w-as completely out of touch with Ouspensky's people atLyne Place and lcnew only two people in London who wir" interestedin the idcas, so I set to work to get myself established and to get myf"*ily over fiom America.

In the meantime I continued reading the Mahabharatd and Beelzebub'sTales..When- t t\ouglt about the tremendous blind forces workingaccording to law that all the time are trying to make us more mechanicJI was appalled. Yet whenJesus was asked, if it were so diffcult for theelect to be saved, what happens to the multitude, he answercd thatwith God all things are possible.

So with the exercises that Gurdjieffhad given us from time to time.Although I had done them regularly

"veryl"y, the more dificult ones

sincc r93o, they never became casier. One of these exercises is sirnilarto something that is said in The seuet of the Golden Flower. The exercises,like the movements and the dances, have to be done exactly as laiddown; $ey are based on flndamental principles, thousands

-of years

old, and being so, they never become easy. Oo" h"r to mobilize "ll

ore',powers of concenffation and att€ntion to keep the devil of wanderingassociations away. But the constant doing oi the exercises, dav

"fteia-ssociations away. But the constant doing ises, day afterday, year after year,day, year 1fter yeal, brings irurer power, will, attention, the power ofconcentration, understanding of oneself and others; it is a piocess ofbuilding one's house upon thc rock ofthe teaching thar exis$ from ever-last'''g to everlasting, instead of the shifting sands of ordinary restlessouter existence.

As an accomplished pianist has to spend part of each day at the piano,so in this work one has to spend part ofiach d"y io exercises and inpondering, otlerwise one slips back. With this tlere are dso perio&

Tlu End of the War

gfgreater, moreintense effort and also periods ofpurposefirl relaxation.Yet time has to bc spent on the needs if th. ore;risil. 'eettins everv-9pg.r"dly necessary for the planetary body,,Ior this Jr."rJrh"r #"rnhabrt-tor its needs, not its gratif.cations, since our organisnr is thegob mi"g we have to work *ith. Without the organi; ;; *"Jahave-no sight, no hearing, no taste, no feeling, no tioueht_onlv thatsmall something that is the reality of us and wffch "* p.iri* *Jihi.hcontains the results of real work-on ourselves tog"th.i*ith oo, po*tialities-that something which is the 'red Self o?me', which *jr, *t

"on another.body,.becoie coated with it, *J*;;l;ffi;#tbfito pay for its arising, to purge itself from the urdesiraile elements sltillaingilg to it, and ro pay for the sins, srill wrredeemed, of its formerorganisms.

So, whilg. tpTdTgtl1 of each day in exercises and pondering andpart in reading Beelzebub's Talcs and, The Mahabharata, i spent*&i

"rmy w-aking rime ar the factory sprayrng, to get money to k "p

*yorganism suBplied with its needs, and thi orgtirmr of my ar"iiry iiAmerica.

24

D ORSETSPRAYING BASKETS

wHrLB srAyrNc wrrn FRTENDs near Corfe Casde in Dorset it happenedthat through a chance remark which set in motion a series of events, Icame in possession of a field-a three-acre field on the south slope ofthe downs near Corfe Casde; one of the most beeutiful fields I haveever se€n. From the top ofthe slope by the lane sheltered by a hedge offaming gorse you could see for ten miles and the towers of five villagechurches. At the lower end of the field was a bluebell wood and a spring.A wallc of fifteen minutes took you to the top of the downs and one ofthc furest views in England; on one side thc whole of Poole Harbourand the country round it to Badbury Rings, on the other side to theopeh sea. And not a sowrd but the wind in the grass or the song of a lark.On t}e vcry top were the three motrnds, graves of men dead three thou-sand years ago, that I have spoken of.

I did not know what to do with the field. It had been worked by afarmer who for years had grown crops on it with plenty of artificialfertilizers so, having seen the good results of 6rming without chemicdfertilizers at the Putrey School farm and the harm done by an over-use,and having justrcadPlowfttan's Folly by an American farmer, I decidedon an e4periment. I had the field disced, sown to a grass mixture with-out ferdlizer, disced the crop, then had it re-sown and let it out forgranng. The result was that the farmer's cows in the next field, sensing

the wholesome taste of organically grown grass, constandy brokethrough the hcdge to feed on my grass, and when I complained, thefarmer, who was what they used to call'a gendeman' angrily replied, "'

'Well, what do you expect? It's a great temptation to cows to have afield of grass like that close by.' He had to strengthen his hedges.

In time, the field, and the house I later built on it, became a sort ofsymbol of intense efoft, a struggle with myself.

I returned to Harpenden. The first thing was to get my family fromAmerica and to that end I began to look for a living place in London. I

222

Dorset

searched London on and off for six months, but houses were scarce,

and as people were returning to London to live, prices were going up.

At the end of the six months, after seeing fifty or sixry places, I founda house in Chelsea near the river and took it by sharing it with a friend.By doing a lot of work on it mpdf my family were able tolive there

irr comparative comfort for twelve years, with three bedrooms, a

living room, a kitc,hen and bathroom, at a rent of {z aweekindudingot"s. Th.n for the next eight yea$ rcnt free, by letting part of the

house. Up to this time my longest stay in any place since the age oftcn had been three years, and then only on two occasions-l was a tent

dweller, living like 'those who are about to depart'. It was not that 'I'chose to be always on the move, but something within me; whether itwas the nomadic instinct of the distant forebears of my Arab grand-mother, or planeary influences in the pattern of my life, I don't know-

My wife and yo"t'ger son arrived in October-the elder staying on

at the Puurey School-and with their return a great blank in my.emo-tional lifc was filled, a deep need was satisfied. We stayed with.myparents for a few days then moved to my friend'l goultry house in thcbhilt"*r, then to friends in St.John's Wood, and finally into the house

in Chelsea. After all thc break-ups, the partings and meetings and

again partings, the wanderings, thc turmoil, the outer and irurer

rttilrioft, hele we were again in London-everything the same yet

everyttring changed.tho"gh now I had a setded home I still had no lgtded occupation,

and never was to have. I had decided to set myself the task of con-

tiooiog to live the essential liG I had bcgun in America, that is to get

.nougL money to provide for thc needs of my family and to get it bydoing only those jobs that I really wished to do. I was able to get

*oogh money foilife-needs from m'v basket-spraying_bu_s9ep for the

next itree years and even to own J car. Litde by litde life began -to

fow more -or

less relatively normally. But the times were difficult;food, clothing and materials of all kinds werc scarce and one had con-

stantly to exeicise all onc's ingenuity to overcome the restrictions im-posed by people in government offices who, 1o \eep tleir jobs fori"hi"h *. were paying them, made thousands of useless rules and regu-

lations-the buieaucrits. Had I obeyed all these rules and regulations

I coulil not even have kept my family alive but, like many others, bypitting my brains against dull ofrcialdom I was able to provide

for my 6mily quite well.223

E

Dorset

To sell my baskets I travelled about London visiting the big generalstores. At one big store, as I was talking to the woman buyer and show-irg *y samples, she looked at me and burst out into a fit of hystericallaughter and went out of the room-at my appearance and manner, Isuppose, which was tohlly different from the average commercialtraveller. Her assistant grinned and went out also but came back in a

few minutes with a large order, enough to keep me going for someweeks. The baskets I bought from the actual makers in Somerset,wicker baskets made by men and women sitting on the foor with theirboss, rapidly weaving by hand. All told I sold a thousand dozen, andas I had no overheads except my fare to Luton and the cost of the cellu-lose and baskets I fid very well, yet I still could not overcome my dis-like ofgoing cap in hand to the buyers; there was always the automatichabitual resistance that I had first acquired as a boy offourteen in thedraper's shop. One day I was sitting in a grubby tea-shop in Balham,coping with the inner resistance to calling on another draper's shop,and comparing my life with the pleasant days on the magazine in NewYork, with the Frank Lloyd Wrights at Taliesin, and the usefirl re-warding times at the Puurey School in Vermont. The wheel of repeti-tion had again full tumed and I was trudging the streets of Londonwith a box of samples, interviewing buyers for orders. A blealc de-pression setded on me on this cold winter's &y io the Balham HighStreet; it was as if once more I was caught up in circumstances fromwhich I could not escape. Then, at this moment, when things seemedat their worst, the miracle happened-I began to be filled with a kindof light, with real hope-the hopc of consciousness; with real faith.Again I saw the whole of life, and everything was revealed to me. Irurderstood. I saw that all this petty outer life that seems so importantis really nothing, a passing thing, and that the irurer life is the redity.Again, it was as if time had had a stop; a vision of the Holy Grail, a

glimpse of His Endlessness, a moment of real consciousness in thesedull squalid surroundings, a moment such as I had had among thebeauties of Taliesin; an actual contact with the higher centres. I satthere in a state of ecstasy among the clatter of cups anil spoons, babbleof talk and noise of ffams, absorbing my state to the utmost, savouringit and thanking God. I could not describe a hwrdredth part ofwhat wenton in me. The intense ecstatic state passed, but the effect remained and Isat quiedy for a long time pondering the words ofJesus Christ: 'AgainI say r.rnto you, watch!'

Dotset

An hour or so later there happened one of those strange coincidences

that often arise. I was *alkinfdown the sffeet looking for a-certain

tiop, *d after searching for-some time turned a corner and saw a

[ttl]"'**, aJew, getting-out of a car. 'I'll ask him,l I thought and-went

"p *Ju"g"i, 'iiottdJt if you can t.[. -: . ' .' then stopped'-'Why"

ir"ii, 'it'i Metz.' 'Yes,' hL replied, 'and you're Charles Nott'' It*", i*or, twenty years since i h"d t.ttt him and that was at the

pri.o.6 in rontainebieau where he had sPent a year.' l had even for-

go** his existence. 'we went offfor a drink together and he began to

i;f of Gurdjieff, 'You know,' he said, 'I shall never forget what

C"ra;i.f aia"fo, *". When I went to the Prieur6 I had no confidence

i" -|t"ff, I could hardly speak-topeople and couldn't hold a job' He

;;1"i ,o*.thirrg i" *"; or he helped me to change :oP"$Tg T*.rrjf. I don't knJw what, but I was-different when I left the Prieur6.

iJ"*.'U""f. to London and borrowed some money and started 1 shop

here, and in six months had repaid the loan' I got married.and now

have a family and a nice house and two shops, and I owe it all to what

Crra.;i.f ad to me. yet I've never seen him or heard-anything ofhim

fro*"the day I left, nor have I met anyone in the work until I met_you

,Hr ;;;;, but I've often thoughi I would like to do something

for him.'

to myself and to our mutu4 frien$ ol1\?rieurd days,andiii* rofd him all I knew about Gurdjieffand what had happened

------^tr^-l *,,*,.1 f*io-.{" ^f thl Prierrr6 davs- and ended bvby

;"id, 'What can you do for Gurdjieff? What can anyof us f9t fheyis'o;iv one thing at present' *" "-* give him money. for his work'

at t"itr, yoo ""i, pJth"pt; I can only get just enough to keep my

family.'- i"iook up the idea and offered to pay my expenses ifl would go to

Paris with hi*. nt. upshot was that we went to Paris' He gave Gurd-

ii"r*o""" and we tt"d "n

interesting and profitable time at the apart-

t nt in the Rue des Colonels Renart.

one result of the experience in thc noisy litde cafii in Balham was

that I understood Blake when he said that he saw an angel in a tree at

Peckham.There are angels that may be seur by some in the trees in Battersea

and Chelsea. Aid thit, for no reason, ieminds me of an incidenr My

o.illrbo* in Oakley Street, besides letting looms' collected antiques'

*a'oo" day discovered in an qtigye shop in Chelsea q irySg of tL'dgi" M"i,very old

"nd valuadle. He gave it to the local Catholic

225224

E

Dorset

Church and the Pope, hearing about it presented him with a medal.One day, a Chelsea lady was in Gladp's iweet shop round the corner.She turned_to her companion and said, 'Have you heardi The pope,sgiven Mr. X. a medal. Yes. He found a virgin in Chelsea and preseurcdher to the Church!'

2S

SOME NOTES ON THEGNOSTICS

soMB rrAvE sap tllat there is nothing new in Gurdjieff's ideas, end in ascnse this is true, since they are as old as man. What is ncw is the inter-pretation-which makes them new for us. As one understan& onetnrth after another one says, 'I've always known this, but till now fvencver been conscious ofit.'

lt was while I was studying that difrcult chapter in Beelzebub's Tales'The Law of Heptaparaparshinokh', the law of the octave, rhat I cameacross tfr.e following in a magazinc:

l._A. R. Newlands was the first man in our time to appreciate thatthc chcmical elements fall naturdly into families and groupi. Newlandsalso noticed that, if the elements were arranged in i ceriain way, thesame physical and chemical properties reappeared after each interval ofeight. He thereforc called his discovery rhe "Law of Octaves".Developed by otl'ers later it evenrudly emerged as the "periodicTable", which has proved of immense practical vdue, and enabled theexistence of unknown elements to be preficted with remarkableaccuracy.

'A Londoner, born in 1837 of Scoqish and Italian parentage, New-lands was educated at the Royal College of Chemistry. He fought withGaribaldi in Italy but returned to London to practise as an analyticdchemist. Later he taught chemisrry at Southwarlc Grammar School andelscwhere but finally became chief chemisr at a sugar refinery at Vic-toria doc*s. Tho"gh his Iaw of Octaves was laugfied at when he firstpropounded it to the Chemical Sociery in 1864, time proved him to bc

1gh!. In 1887 he was awarded the Davy Medal of the Royal Socieryfor the discovery of which, for z3 ycars, had eanred him litde but ri&-cule. He died in r8g8.'

Together with the law of the octave I was studying the third striving227

I

1;

zz6

*E

of objective *","0o,1ffi1' ::"y-Y:more concerning the

laws of World-Creation and'World Maintenance, which is corurected

with the law of the octave, and of the law of reciprocal feeding, of howand why the world was created and how it is kept going, and its rela-

tion to man.I read all I could get hold ofabout the ideas ofcreation and ofthe

three forces and made many notes. The following is a somewhat scat-

tered collection, chiefly from the Gnostics.

Some of the Gnostics said that the Father was the creator, others the

Son, others the Serpent, others said that a woman was the creator-Pistis Sophia; others said that the creator was Satan or the Devil-thedenying or the passive force.

Among certain Greelc tribes Priapus was worshipped as 'the goodone', thetreator; his statue, with its enormous genitds painted red, was

placed in gardens. Everywhere on earth the worship by conscious men

of God aJ Cr."tor of the universe, and of sex as the divine force, be-

carne, on lower levels, the worship by unconscious men of gods offtttility and the powers of Nature. tr many ancient religions is to be

found thc idea of a Supreme Un}nowable Being above dl who,dividing himself into male and female, produced God the Creator. Innone of them, and only among certain European rationalists, scien-

tists or Com:nunists is to be found the idea that the universe justhappened.

According to Milton:

The Father first they sung, OmnipotentImmutable, Immortal, InfiniteEternd King! Thee, Author of all BeingFountain of Light, Thpelf invisible. . ..

He also spedrs of thc Unknowable God, and his Son-God theCreator.

Some of the Gnostic stories of creation are connected with the Lawof Three. The Naasenes say that the First Cause was a Man and Son ofMan who was divided into three-mentd, psychic and earthly. Theycalled him Adamas, and said that the knowledge of him is the begin-ming of ableness to know God. The three parts came together inJesus,

the perfected man. This knowledge, they say, was handed down by

James the brother ofJesus to Mariamne.The Sethians said that there are three definite principles of the uni-

versal, each having boundless powers. Everytling that wc perceive orzz8

Some notes on the Gnostics

do not perceive is formed to become each of the princiglq. The-sub-

stances if the prinaples are light and darkness; betweq thelightabove

and the darkriess bitow is pure spirit which is like the fragrance ofbdsam or incense

"nd penet.ates everything. The darkness, which is

sensible, is a fearftrl watir, and knows that if the light is taken away itwill remain desolate and inert; so the darkness tries in every v/ay torctain within itself the brilliance of the Light and the Fragrance of the

Spirit. Frorn the three principles or forces all things are made. They said

tliat from the first fusing of the forces or principles there appeared the

pattern or seal of heaven and carth lhtf9d like a womb; and then the

i"tt.*t of everytling appeared, and all things were made, in the same

way.'ih" Do..t"t taught that the three principles or three forces came

into being from the First Principle, and from these all was created-

But the First Principle, God, abides alone.

The only begotten Son was conceived by the three forces. He was

wiser and bettei than the Father. (There is a correspondence here when

Beelzebub said that Rakhoorkh, the 'result' of Gornahoor Harkharlch,

was better than his 'producer'.)Marcion said theri were two Powers: Love and Strife. Strife rends

things apart, Love draws them together. A third force results from these

two.The Manichees considered our planet to be the worst of all possible

worlds. Some said that the universe, being created by the denying

force, was evil and that therefore all creation was evil, and some carried

this to a literal, logical conclusion by refusing to maffy and have

children, and by being castrated.

Many of tho ideas in these early teachings are similar to those inBeelzebub's Tales; the idea of the Choot-God-Litanical period, of our

Unique Burden Bearing Endlessness, gf a suffering Creator, and of our

being able to learn to biar our small portion of rhe universal suffering

and io relieve His Endlessness of part of His burden.

In corurection with this, Gurdjieffonce was telling Elizabeth Gordon,

who was with him from r93z until her death in 1946, thathe had made

a mistake. He went on to say that even God made a mistake, one bigmistake. Miss Gordon replied that she thought God had done every-

thing necessary to forestall the effect of the Merciless Heropass-'TiT.,that-wears away every living thing'. Gurdjieff said, 'Yes, everything

but one thing; L" made an umbrella when he should have made an

enervr, and n-ow he is idiot and like everyone else sits in galoshes.' This229

I

Somc notes o* the Gnostics

scemingly senseless expression purzledme; only after a long time did Ibegin to perceive a great truth in the parable.

Valcntinus said that abovc all is thc Father from whom came theDemiurge the Creator, and from the Demiurge came evil as well asgood- Christ came from that Fullness in the Pleroma ro save thc Spirityhich !1d gone asrray, the spirit that is in our inmost parts. This-willbe saved but the fesh will perish. He also said that ours iJthe lowesr andlast formed of the planets.

There is the idea that dmost from thc beginning of crearion some-thing went wrong, something unforeseen ent.r.J into the growingunirerse-something undesirable, something evil. Gurdjieff speaks o?this as the Choot-God-Litanical period whoie meaning is in tie threenames. This apparendy was before the appearance of kundabuffer onour planet.

Carpocrates the Gnostic taught that we must work out all our firans-gressions, but that it is possible to pay for or work out many trans-gressions-at oncg by conscious effort and so shorten the years ofourexilc in this world below.

The Stoics also taught, as did Krishna, rhat men musr fulfil the lotforeordained for them; even if men do not wish to follow a course ofaction, they are compelled to do what is foreordained. A consciousm1n can, to a certain extent, choose; an unconscious man cannot,

The idea of reciprocal feeding has always been known ro esotericand even to occult schools.

Robert Fludd, rhe seventeenth-century dchemist, says:

For know, whatever was created needsTo be satisfied and fed: of clemcnts,The grosser feeds the purer; earth the sea,larth and sea feed air; the air those firesSthereal; and as lowest, 6rst thc moon;Whence in her visage round those spots impurgedVapours, not yet in her substance tumed.Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhaleFrom her moist continent to higher orbs.The. sun, that light imparts to all, receivesFrom his alumental recompenseIn humid exhalations, and at ev'nSups with the Ocean.

Connected wirh this is the idea of man's being of use and help toGod, that God needs a cerrain help from man. Iiassein tn Beelzeiub'sTales speaks of 'days for helping God'.

230

Gurdjieff, in Beelzebub's Tales, relates that in the begiruring, whenHis Endlessness decided to create the universe, he created it by an actof pure will, consciously; but, after the second order suns appeared,creation, according to the law of thc octave, became partly automatic;as the fiemendous note 'doh' descended, down the siale, creation be-came more and more automatic or mechanical until it reached, in ourown ray, the earth and moon. The conscious positive active force thatbegins in the Sun Absolute becomes, in the down-fowing ofthe ocave,on 9ur planet the denying, passive force-the dcvil, Satan. (kr theBible Satan is spoken of as a Son of God. The Son as the denying force.)

Since all creation comes from God-everything is God. God is theMegalocosmos, and thus, in the flowing down of the law ofthe ocraveGod becomes the Devil.

Men have in them emanations and radiations from the Sun Absolutcand other_ suns and planets, they must therefore struggle against thedenying force, the down-flowing, the involution of the ociave, andstrive with the help ofthe affirming evolutionary force to ascend agairurthis current, against God as it were, in order ai some time to arrive atunion with God.

The idea of two Gods is often mentioned in the fragments of theGnostics-the Ineffable, and the Jusl and Suffering Creator. Thc fallof man and a way,to redemption; of the Ray of Cieation; the laws ofThree and Seven; of the idea that sometling undesirablc became mixedin

-our mahing; that we must pay for our sins both voluntary and in-

v-oluntary; Ti th" idea of a practical method for selGperfecting. Theydso spga\ of the ''World-Sound'. All these ideas are d&eloped in detailin Beelzebub's Tales.

The idea of Good and Evil runs through all religions and real tcach-iogr.

According to the Hebrews, the ffee of the knowledge of good andevil represents a universal understanding of all things-good and bad.

23r

Silesius says:

Somc notes on the Gnostics

I know that without meThe liG of God were lost,'Were I destroyed he mustPerforce give up the ghost.'

'God could not without meA single insect make.I must sustain it tooOr it will snaightway break.

1

Some notes on the Gnostics

Our remote ancestors, almost the first beings, could not have beenallowed to acquire this understanding.

In one of the Gnostic teachings it says that Christ came to free theuniverse from the evil that had entered inro it, Christ being the Methodof Self-Perfecting. The Christ descended into Jesus at his baptism. Heunderstood then what he had to do-why he was sent from abovc.There are some wonderful poems in the Gnosticteaching-'The Hymnof the Robe of Glory' and'Tlhe Gnostic Crucifixion'are two.

The Gnostic teachings were understood and practised by the earlyChristians but around r7o a.D. the 'Fathers' of the Church dubbed theGnostics heretics and turned them out of the Church.

Some modern writers, not understanding the inner teaching of theGnostics, complain of the 'fantastical' notions and ideas; but theycertainly are not more fantastical than the notions of the Fathers of theorganized church about Paradise, Purgatory and Hell.

Fragments of the Gnostic teaching were preserved by a happeningin which the unlucky became the lucky. Their sayings are said to havebeen collected by Saint Hippolytus-who, as they used to say 'four-ished', that is 'existed'-about 2oo years after Jesus Christ had died.This Hippolytus had joined the smdl Christian church and seekingpower, was anxious to become pope ; but he had a rival, Callixtus, whoalso wanted to become pope. They caused a lot of disturbance in thestrcets of Rome by their frequent brawling, and eventually the authori-ties exiled the two of them to the salt mines in Sardinia. 'When laterthey were allowed to return, Hippolytus got himself made pope of theRoman facdon, Callixtus of the Greek. Hippolytus, to strengrhen hisposition, collected what he could of the various Gnostic and otherteachings and put them into a book called Philosophumena-a refuta-tion of all heresies. He not only included Greek, Hebrew and Egyptianteachings in the heresies but Callixtus as well, calling him antichristand blasphemer. Almost all the written records of the Gnostic teachingswere destroycd by the 'Fathers of the Church'. Ooly the refutations ofHippolytus and some other fragments in writing were preserved.

Callixtus was given charge of the cemetery in Rome which stillbears his name. After their deaths, Callixtus and Hippolytus, becausethey had been exiled by the authorities, were set up as martyrs andlatermade saints.

It is to St. Hippolytus that I am indebted for solving a problem thatlong puzzled me: Why did the followers of Pythagoras refuse to eatbeans? He says it was becausc candidates for government oftces were

232

Some ndtes on the Gnostics

elected by the dropping of beans in a bowl; then, as now' as soon as

men were elected as rulers, power went to their heads; they became

corrupted and even temporarily or permanently iruane, seeing thingsonly from their own point of view. Thc Pythagoreans, who tried tolive their lives according to objective reason and sane logic would have

nothing to do with them; and by refusing to eat beans, they constantlyreminded themselves that they must not be identified with ordinarylife.

St. Hippolytus also points out the resemblance of the growing beans

to human sex organs. In broad beans especially the growing pods on thestalk resemble the male organ in various stages of tumescence; and partof the bean itself, when ripe, to the vagina. He also says that if bcans

are chewed and left in the sun, the smell resembles that ofhurum sperm.

233

ABour rrrrs rrMB I began to sce that I need not be indendfied with andbecome

" rbt"

'o any business or circumstance. It was as if something

were changing in me and that the struggles and strivings of th" p"rtyrlty years were beginning t9 have resnlts. I felt a o.*Ld gro#iogfreedom-an inner and outer freedom. I was far from havinfarriveiat a state of perfcction or higher consciousnesr, b.rt ,o*etf,ine *",happening, and some special kind of effort was needed ,o

""rty -3o"",into another octave.After a lot of thought a plan, which may have been the shadow of a

coming event, began to forrn in my mind. It was to build a house onmy three-acre field near corfe casde. Ever since I was a bov of four-teen holidaying-F l**g-", Dorser had always h"d

" greati o".rioo

Ft *",_:p."cially later when I was learninj farminf near \Vi;bourne whitechurch as a youth,living with-th. f"rml and the farmworkers. faere were no buses tl.n *Jth. vaney road r" s**"n. aanot exist, and there were few cars. people still travelled to th" *?rk"tin,the 'fiantert: (S. carrier's) cart, oivan. The counties of fnglandsfi.ll possessed their own essence, personality and individualiry, andtheir own accent and customs *d

"pp""r"rr.e. Dorset was still per_

mcated with the vibratious and the atmoiphere of the ancienr "i"ilr"Looof the Druids and the later monasteriei, both long since dir"n*;;J.

lts neighbour, 'V7iltshire, was a sorr of inland Dorset.

Even when I was very young and knew nothing, I used to feel,walking over certain parts of 6e downs, this anclent in{ruence. I,

\"qS.9.*.brought "p i" q,. darkness of oirr.te*th-c**ry;;;;:

tion believed with tle iest that the ancient Britons were s"v" es *hopainted themselves with the blue dye called woad, and the ;J;;superstitious religious priests, the Druids, sacrificed and burnt p.ool" iocages; andtJrat-.only when thc Romans came did the r"rr"gesi."ir rh.blesings ofcivilization. But dmost

"l*"y, the tnrth about f,istory is theopposite of what popular educarion teacires. The rerigion of the bruids

234

26

BUILDING A HOUSE

Building a House

was far higher in concept than that of the Romans, and their unwrittenliterature 6r richer. In the latter days ofthe Druids, whcn their religionhad degenerated, people may have been burnt as sacrifices to the godsof Grtility. But even so, how few compared with the sacrifices of theChristians to their God; for fifteen hundred years they have bcen tor-turing and burning heretics by the thousand, and reached the grandclimax of six million 'heretics' oflered up as sacrifices to the Germangods in the spacc of six years. No pagan or heathen nation can competewith this. Of course thcy had not the meansr they did not have thewonderful weapons and chemicals thar we have for Lilliog people.Even the Romans had to do all their kiling of each other by hand, along and laborious process, while now, two men can kill a hundredthousand in a few moments. In our wonder l world it seems that themore people that can be killed in the shortest time with the least possibleeffort is esteemed the highest civilization.

'Well then, it happened that my wife got a satisfying and interestingjob at Hanford School in Dorset, some fifteen miles from my threeacres of land on ttre Downs. (There is a good dcscription of this oldmanor house in Richard Hughes's Fox in the Attk). So we planned toleave Chelsea and build a house on our land near Corfc Casdc, I to rrura smdl-holding, she to teach music. We had no money apart ftom anincome which provided just food and lodging and an ancient car, andit was extremely fiIf,cult and usually impossiblc to gct a permit fromthe Labour government to built a private house. The problem was howthe Labour government to built a privateto build a decent house without monev

gct a Pernut tromproblemwashow

house without money while keeping to regulations: casc scemed hopeless. The onlv thine to do was toand bye laws. The casc scemed hopeless. The only thing to

make a task of it-to set myself a task of building thc best post-warhouse in Dorset.

It took a year of di{ficult negotiation to get even a permit to start,as it was the custom for an ofrcial 'no' to be given to any request.

While the house was building I livcd in a lined comrgated hur, tenfcet by twelve, that I had pur up by the spring, a pleasant, quiet,secluded place, and I went up to London for a week or so at a time.

Labour and money were scarce, but I managed to borrow enoughmoney to make a start, and when the walls werc up a mortgage com-pany made a loan. I got a jobbing builder, a locd stone mason and alabourer to help, and worked on the place myself. The stone came fromthe guarries at Langton Matravers and the shingles for the roof fromOregon, which shingles Inailed myselfsince there was not a shinglerinthe district. I wanted it to be the best and most modern house in Donet,

235

Z

Building a Horse

and I began by discussing it with the town planners, by visiting thebuilding centre in London, rcading pamphlets and books, and so gothold ofthe then latest ideas. But all kinds ofobstacles and frustrationsarose. It took three years to finish the house and cost ft2,ooo, though alocal builder told me it would have cosr him {4,ooo. And it was analmost ideal house.

However, a year after I began it, when it was half finished, my wiGgot ill and had to give up herjob and rehrrn to Chelsea. She was unableto take up work again for some time and I returned to Chelsea too, andsoon realized that we would never be able to make enough money to liveon at Corfe Casde. I had several good offers for the unfinished house andthe land, and ordinarily speaking, it would have been sensible andprofitable to have taken an offer and given up, but so often in my life Ihad taken the easy way and given up

" coursJ ofaction; now I resolved

to accept the difficult task and see it through.Difficulties arose, both physical and psychological. It was similar to

the task offinding the spring at the Prieur6, which I have spoken aboutin Teaehings of Gurdjiffiyet more difficult since I did not have Gurd-jieffto prod me. But I had more irurer strength now, and so was ableto overcome the resisting denyrng force in myself-the fits of deepdepression, the frustrations and hopelessness. I had a conscious wishand, as Gurdjieffsays, 'with corucious wish everything comes'.

When I had nailed the last of ten thousand shingles on the roof I gota room ready upstairs and lived in it, cooking on a primus stove. On acold morning in late December I woke up to find the country beautifuland desolate, covered with snow; the one thing needed to complete aperiod ofterrible depression that I had been going through. I dressedand began to make tea among the cooking utensils on the foor, and as Ileaned down I found myself repeating a sentence of St. Teresa, 'Godwalks among the pots and pipkins'; as I said it, light fooded my whole

leing, and the dcpression disappeared. I sat down and let the light pourthrough me, and although I was aware of everything around me if wasagain as if time had had a stop. Again, it was a srate beyond selGconsciousness-a moment of objective consciousness. Sitting quietly,ft.li"g the force filling me, rhere came an understanding of Gurdjieff'swords in the chapter on Purgatory in Beelzebub's Tales:'And three-brained beings who have attained a greater selFawareness eagerly andeven joyfully permit during their ordinary being-existence, for therealization of these aspirations (selGdcvelopment), these unpleasant-nesses to their presences which procced from the accepted piivations

46

Building a House

to their planetary body, because such beings already well understandand instinctively fcel that this lower being body of theirs is, in thcirown sacred law of Triamazikamno, the indispensable source for a

certain kind of denying manifestation, and as such always must and

will manifest only as denying for the affirming part, that is, that thislower part of theirs must be obliged to be always opposite to what isrequired for them by their higher being part.'

The words became real-l had realized an objective truth. Perhaps

the whole process of building the house had been organized for thisone realization, which I had instinctively felt from the first. It had be-come a crystallized truth. The effect of the experience lasted stronglythe whole of the morning; and when the glory passed I took up mytask again with renewed faith and hope.

Corfe Ca*le

237

27

PARIS WITH GURDJIEFF.

GRO UP S

ofinner development

EARLv rN 1949 t had heard that Ouspensky had returned to England. Ameeting had bcen held and he had shocked his pupfu by telling themthat he had never taught the system and that they must begin all overagain. It may have been that he had realized that he had never taughtthe Method. He certainly had taught what he called the sysrem, and hisolder pupils were well grounded in it, but he had not taught the methodof inner development tlooogh self-sensing, self-remembering and selflobservation: Conscious Labour and Voluntary Suffering, and the fivestrivings of Objective Moraliry, which are the basis for ill inner work.

Ouspenskyhad returned from Amcrica a sick and dying man. MadameOuspensky remained in Ncw Jeney and continued to supervise thework at Franklin Farms.

The only direct news t had had of Ouspenshy was from the Hart-manns, who stayed with us in London sevcral times after the war. Theyvisited Ouspensky, and told me that he was angry with me for sayingthat his pupils had got stuck and that thc only hope for them was tomeet Gurdjieffand read Beelzebub's Tales; endhe sent a message askingme not to speak to any of his pupils. Io *y case they avoided me, evenwhcn I encountered some of them occasiondly in public.

Then, one day, I read in the paper that he had died, and a deep feelingof compassion ceme over me and I wished that I had been able ro havekept in contact with him. He was a good man and helped hundreds ofpeople. His attitude towards the ideas was one ofabsolute integriry andthe evidence is Fragments of an lJnknown Teaching, a masterpiece ofobjective reporting. But some kinlc in him had caused him to rejectGurdjieffas a teacher. Ouspensky always had wanted to found a reli-gious philosophical school; and he had founded a very successful one,with a large organization in England and America. Yet it had not givenhim real 'being-satisfaction'. At the end of his life he had, it seems, iome

48

self-sensing, self-remembering and self-

Paris with Gurdjief

to realize that a philosophical school was not the basically importantthing for him. It may be that he, like others, had had to *oik ooi rorrro.tfring from the pattern of his life: his philosophical school and all histheories in connection with it, and 'nextiime' hl may be better equippedto understand the real work of the inner Teaching.'When.Ouspensky

died there werc a thousanJ people in Londonstudying !i. exposition of Gurdjieff's teaching-wo*1"! at Lyne placeand meeting at the large hall-in colet Gardens. of ihe immediatcfollowers of Gurdjies rhere were about rwo hundred in paris, NewYork and London.

I attended the requiem service for ouspensky in the Russian churchin Pimlico, a church whic! had many aiociations for me-weddingsof friends, Easter services, funerals. And now this church, *hor. ,r.iystones were permeated with the good vibrations of thousands of peop[ewho for brief periods had been ihere and had rcceived ,o*.rhiin io.connected with ordinary life, has been pulled down and the ip"..turned into a parking place for motor

"oJ.h.r.About three weeks after ousperuky's funeral I was in Gurdjieff'sapartment in Paris and,, who should I see, to my astonishmeni, butsome of Ouspensky's close pupils, one of whom I had last seen atFranklin Farms, NewJersey, on the day I left. Flowevcr, since one wasconstandy confronted

-with extraordinary and unexpected events inconnection with Gurdjieff I kept my astonishm*i to mysel{ butthought,.'How strange,

-these_ peopte, who would ,rot ,p""k to me

bec,r'se they considered that I had disobeyed one of ouspeisky's rules,y:$":1fu: t*hg to Gurdjieffand re"ding the typ.r.'rip t of Brrlzr-bub's Talesl' At lunch Gurdjieff explained tlie ritual of tlie science ofidiotism ro them, some werl given-their categories of idiot' and theirhealttx were drunk. After lunJh we crowdedtto the sitting room andsat quiedy. Then Gurdjieff began to play on his smafl h-arrd organ,

Toting the bellows with one hand, flaying with the other slow milo-digs_, with few notes, but producing such poignant sorurds that someof the Ouspenskl pulill-b9g* to *1.p. He toiched their highcr emo-tions as never before in all their years in the work had they beei touched.

- Gurdjieffconstandy reminded his pupils: ,you musifeel, you musrfeel,-your *i"4 ir a luxury. you mui rirff"r r.*orre in your'feelings.'

The reason for the appearance 9f pqspensky,s pupils in Gurdjie?,sapartmenr was thar afteiouspensky's death rrri"ai*i, o"rp""$t"aadvised *.p dl to goto Gurdjiefl-k was a big shock for^th"*,

"ft"rbeing told for years to have nothing to do with-Gurdjieffor his pupils.239

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I spoke to some of them, and said, 'Now we are all in the same boat.'They replied, 'Yes indeed.'

Two weeks later, with three others, I was at supper at Gurdiieff,stable when the bell sorurded. Someone answered ,i* doo, *d;;;"bach and said, 'Mr. and Mrs. Berurett are here with their pupils.' Therewere about twenty. Room was made for them

"t th" t"'bG and food

brought in, and they began to eat. No one spoke. After a period ofsilence during which Gu:djieffobserved them with attention,ie beganto talk to Mr. Bennett about the science ofifiotism, and the categ#esof ifiots', and appointed Mr. Berurett toest master for the o."iriorr.Yh.".l Gurdjieffasked himrvhich category he belonged to, of

"o*r.he did not know. Gurdjieff tgld him, *d "t

or"", "",

it happened toeveryone to whom he gave their 'idiot', Mr. Bennett's ch"iict", w*made startlingly clear to some of us.

After dinner vre went to the Salle pleyel to watch the French groupdoing new movemcnts. Then Gurdjieff called Mr. Bennett

"fa utpupils and assigned each one to a Frenc.h pupil, who showed them thepostures, gestures and movements of onJ of the dances,

A talk on the dances and movements was given later by an old pupilwho was Gurdjiefft'right hand', whic-h sufplemented the t"[c si;nin Leslie Hall, New York, at the fint demonltiation there.

sacred dances and movements have alwap played an important part in thework of real s,chools. They e4press an unkntwn dimension and t"*.1 *h"t i,

&om the average man-tle realiry of a higher level of being. If we are

{19 to pass from_our ordinary levelto a Ligher, iimeans *.t roorioirrg io *is_clanged. The changes are governed by deinite cosmic laws, and a rcnoir.de"of these laws exists and can be discovered. Gurdjieffin his early t

"o"l, iid

sojoums in temples and monasteries in the Middle and Far Easf and centralAci: witresed and took part in various ritual dances and ceremonies; and herealizcd that the dance could be used as_ a language to express knowledge of ahigher order-cosmic knowledgl This l"ngui'g"-is matheimatical,

"..orEiogioexact m€asure.Every movement has its appointed place, its duration and weiiht.The combinations and sequencer .." -iihr*"cially calculat.d. portoro "aod

attitudes- are aTangeq to produce definite, predetermined emotions. In these,

!e w.h9-is -waldring them may also participate-he may read rhem as a script,

in_whidr the higher emorions and higher toind c"n takl p"rt.. In creating these movements each detail has a meaning] the smallest elementis taken into account, nothing rg lgft

1o chance or to imalination. Tbere is onlyone posille gesture, posrure and rhythm with whidr to rJpres"nt a givenhumaior cosmic situation. Another gesture, posture or -ov.*int wodJ not present

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the uuth-it would be false. If there is the least miscalculadon in the composi-don of a movement the dance would be desecrated, and fantasy would takc the

place of knowledge. Mr. Gurdjieffduring a long life devoted to study and

questioning, mastered the principles of those sacred dances which constitute a

branc.h of objective art. Understanding the principles, he was able to demon-strate truths through these movements.

The student, even from the beginning, through the high degree ofsustained

attention rcquired to perfrct himself in the movements, is using one of thespecific means of self-knowledge, and of attaining 'the cognition and com-prehension of rediry.'

The following morning I was at the CaG des Acacias with Gurdjieffdrinking coffee, and said, 'Mr. Bennett and his organization and allthesc pupils could be a very good thing for the work; they seem to havemoney too.'

Gurdjieff replied laconicalln 'Bennett is small thing. Useful formoney, yes. He will bring me a thousand pupils and out ofthese I shall

choose perhaps ten.'This summed up the whole of Mr. Bennett's future association.with

Gurdjieffand his teaching. His personal association with Gurdjieffwasfor a period of a year and a hal{, with intervals, till Gurdjieff died.Twenty-five years before he had been at the Pricur6 for about nryo

wcdss.I saw a great deal of Mr. Bennett and his pupils after this, at Coombe

Springs. My wife, with Gurdjieff's permission, taught some of thedances there; but Mr. Bennett soon parted from thc Gurdjiefforganiza-tion and worked on his own. Coombe Springs then became for a timethe headquarters of Subudh, then a centre of the Sufis. Sventually itfell into the hands of what are cdled 'developers' who turned it intomore'beehives' for the expanding population.

'With the coming of those Ouspensky pupils who had felt the need

for a deeper knowledge of the teachiig, Gurdjieffdecided that the timehad come to publish Beelzebub's Tales to his Grandson, All anilEuerything, the boolc that we had been reading in tvpescript since

ry24. Mr. Bennett was appointed Gurdjieff's representative in Londonand began to work on the publicity with an article in Etterybody maga-zine. 'This will be read by eight million people,' he said.

'And how many will respond?'I asked.

'Hundreds, thousands perhaps.'

I disagreed with him, and with the large and garish posters whichwere designed.

24r

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Paris with Gurdjief

''We want to reach the man in the street', he said.'But this work is not for the man in the street.''Gurdjieffwants publicity', said Mr. Bcnnett.'Not this kind of publiciry. You don'r casr pearls before swine.'Actually, eight letters were received as a result of the article. The

posters were never used. A week or so later two of Ouspensky's pupilswere appointed Gurdjieff's representatives and, after his deathsuper-vised the publication in New York and London of Beelzebub's Tiles.

I spoke to Gurdjieffabout the articles that were appearing in London.He asked why were these people, who hardly knew him, writingarticles about him in England? I said that they probably thought hewas becoming'news'and wanted to be in on it.

Frank Pinder, who was there, asked Gurdjieff'Why do you publishBeelzebub's Tales now? Every page has grammaticd enorsf 6ukypunctuation and even mistakes. It ought tobe properly edited.'

'It's a rough diamond,' said Gurdjiefr 'There's not time now to editit. It will have to go.'

\trhy let them publish it at all?' asked Pinder. 'lhey'll only spoil it.''lhey've spoilt better things than that,' replied Gurdjiefr 'Now

necessary to publish.'And so the book that{or twenty years Orage and his group had

worked on, and had raised the money for printing, and whicl had besndenied to Ouspensky's pupils, was now being published by the effortschiefy of these same pupils.

Those Ouspensky pupils who had not joined Gurdjieffstayed on atLyne Place for a time; eventually it was sold and became a salxatoriumfor mental invalids; the Prieur6 was a convalescent home, but forphysicd invdids.

The Gurdjieffschool in London now became really active. Demon-strations of dances and movements (or 'open lessons' as they werecalled) were given semi-privately, 1n{ once, five hundred peopll cameto a meeting and to eat the good food provided at Colet-Gardensin the large hall where, Ouspensky had held his meerings. Later apublic demonsffation of some of the dances was given by the Frenchgroup in the Fortune Theaffe in London. Even at high prices everyseat was sold out.

The wheel had come full circle. Ouspensky, who had held the firstgroups in London organized by Orage, and had broken with Gurdjieflwas novr, through his pupils, responsible for the renewal of the real

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Gurdjieff work in London-though the source was in Paris. Thosepupfu of Ouspensky who did not go to Gurdjieff more than hal{,started their own organization and began to hold groups to studyOuspensky's philosophical ideas, somehow linked up with'economicscience', ghu5 gengintring Ouspensky's school of philosophy, but notthe Teaching of Gurdjieff, who, they say, forsook the system afterEssentuki; and since they never met Gurdjieffor went to the Prieur€or to Paris, they, of course, should know. It reminds me of the Dukeof 'Wellington, when at a perty a man went up to him and said, 'Mr.Bellamy, I believe.'The Duke replied, 'Ifyou believe that you'll believeanything.'

Ouspensky's pupils in America left Franklin Farms at Mendham anddispersed. Rodney Collin Smith and his wife, who never met Gurdjiefiwent to Mexico and started a school oftheir own, using the movementsthat they remembered from the classes that Mrs. Howarth and my wifehad taught at Lyne Place. Gurdjieff went to New York. With theold Orage group and Madame Ouspensky and her pupils, greatactivity began. Gurdjieff himself visited Mendham to see MadameOuspensky, though he would never stay there. Madame had pre.sented him with the complete typescript of Fragments of an tlnbownTeaching, and Gurdjieff, hearing it read, said that Ouspensky in thisrespect was a good man. He had written down what he had heard fromhim, exacdy: 'It is as if I hear myself speaking.'

The communiry at Franklin Farms lasted for some years afterGurdjieff's death and after Madame Ouspensky died. Eventuallythe properry was sold. The groups in New York increased and at thistime, 1968, several hundred people are connected with it. They have a

country place in New York State where pupils worlc in the gardens andat various crafts. Some of the original Orage group (which had itsbeginning in the talk in The Sunwise Turn Bookshop in December

ry4) arc among the leaders of the present groups.Our son Adam was now nineteen years of age, James, sixteen.

Adam was at school in France, James, at St. Paul's, London. 'We

had never spoken to them about the ideas nor had we refraincd fromdiscussing them in front of them with our friends. Only oncc didGurdjieff's teaching come up, when the younger said disdainfully, '['mnot interested in what you call real ideas!' I retorted, 'No, they are notfor you. They're only for certain people.'

Six months later Easter was near. For some time I had felt that it vas243

Paris with Gurdjief

necessary to,take the famil-y to Paris to Gurdjieff but was hardly ableto make ends meet, and between the two ends nothing was left fortrips t9 France. Yet I have always found that if I have a deep wish to dosomething, a-real wish, and not an idle 'wanting', if I do not carry outthe wish at all costs, I suffer. On the other hand if I make the efforr todo so, I gain a deep satisfaction, and often, blesings. So, a week beforeEaster I begg t-o dig yp money wherever I could and gathered enoughfor almost the last tickets on the last train to paris on th" Wednesdiybefore Easter. Even then, it was touch and go, because of the traffic;and we got to the train two minutes before it left.

Our elder son Adam met us in Paris. Xvery day we went to lunchand dinner at Gurdjieff's small apartmenr in the Rue des ColonelsRenard which was crowded with pupils from the French group, fromLondon and from New York, yet however crowded, thercalwaysseemed room for another terr.

When we returned ro London, James begged us to let him go toParis and live and study with Gurdjiefr This he did and spent seleralmonths there. Adam, whenever he came up to Paris from his school inthe Cevennes, visited Gurdjiefi Both have been with groups since.However, had I not made that particular effort on that particularfestival their contact with Gurdjieffmight have been delayed ior a longtime. It is fitting that it happened at Easrer

When my wife was in Paris with Gurdjiefi he said to her, 'Rose-mary, you remember those first months at Prieur6, nearly thirry yearsago, when you were young girl! I tell you many thingr th"n. No*you married and have sons. They come to see me. you know, I sur-prised they so good!'

I did not see very much of Gurdjieffin the last months of his IiG.for one thing I seldom h"d *oo.y

"tioogh for f"t"r to paris; fbt;rrh;;

I was getting {eaf 1nd fodiog it difficult to undersrand what peoplewere saying. Tho"gh I could hear voices plainly, it was as if they wirespealcig in an unknown language; words became blurred. Havingvisited several 'specialists' who took my money and gave no help andhaving tried every insrrumenr without getting aid, i was told it thehospital that I was one of many men of my age suffering from nervedeafness, caused by gun-fire and shell-bursts irthe first war, there wasno help and n3 cure for it and it would become imperceptiblybut progressivdy worse. Ai& were no good, since I, and thoie fiLeme, need clarity not volume, and aids give only volume. I began to

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feel the strain and to worry, but I was not aware ofwhat was happenit gto me until Gurdjieffsaid one day, 'You are getting a bad expressionon your face because you can't hear. I know a very good Germanmachine for hearing and will get you one.' I explained that they wereuseless for me. Hc talked with me for a while and this changed myattitude to myself and rny dea&ress. I began to accept it and the strained,worried look disappeared. I even began to make use of it. By degrees Ifound that, in general conversation at table, I could understand onlyone person at a time, and only ifthey sat opposite to me. For five yearsI went to lip-reading classes, but made so litde progress that I gavethem up; one has to begin young with lip-reading. Gradually I becamecut offfrom the exchange of ideas with people; I would miss a wordand so get the sense of a whole passage wrong, and my reply would oftenprovoke either a smile or a look of frustration. At first it was dificultto accept deafiress, for I had dways enjoyed talking to people and ex-changing ideas, but when I &d completely accept it a kind of irurerpeace came, and a deeper understanding of myself and of people. Ibegan to know what people rvere thinking and feeling-intuition in-creased. At a dinner or a gathering, a reading or a talk, hearing butnot understandiog, I would do mental exercises or study the peoplearound me, their postures and expressions, and so leanr something ofthem.

Fortunately, I could still enjoy music if I sat near the instruments,though, apart from the piano and violin, sounds were blurred. And Icould still hear the shrill chirping of thc birds. The noise ofjets andtraffic is as evident to me as to people with normal hearing.

At the present time there are few people whom I can understand, Ican hear them, but the sounds of their voices are blurred, as objectsare blurred to a short-sighted person; and yet a short time ago I had athree hour conversatioriwith an old friend, a writer. t hadlaken theprecaution of bringing sheets of paper,'for he had to writc down everyquestion and every observation. I, of course, could speak to him. Atparting, he said, 'You know, this is the most intercsting and stimulatingconversation I've had for a long time.'

One thing I have noticed, few people want to listen to youi theywant you to listen to them. I've had casual conversations with peoplelasting twenty minutes, by using the principle described by Gurdjieffin the chapter on America in his book: he needed only five expressionsin order to carry on business and other conversations. I now, frequendy,can get dong by using two words-'Yes'and'No'. I smile when the

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other smiles and laugh when he laughs;_when he appears ro be askinga question I shake my head, as if in doubt. They may think I,m a nit-wit. What does it matter? I may even have given them pleasure bylistengg to them. Sometimes I can catch a *Jrd, and by iepeating itgivl th ilpression t]r1t I'm following them intelligently.

Gurdjieffspeaks of the subjective distiny of a perion *hi.tt appearsto be unjust, but may have the result of being fruitfirl for otheri. AsI began to find myself cut ofl I began to think about what I could do;and an idea came to me through ihe chance remark of a friend, whosaid, 'Why don't you write down all that you can remember aboutGurdjiefi his doings.an{ yyings, while it is still in your memory. Inffi*ry ye-ars lre shall all be dead. His sayings and doings need to berecorded for those that will come after.'

I realized that here was something I would wish to do. I had alwayswished to be able to wrire, to be acknowledged by the reviewers asone who could write good English, a wish t [ad had from boyhood,always a gnawing. But even as the idea came to me and the #sh toput it into practice began to grow, there appeared at the same time theadwersary, the denying force, the devil tempting me, pointing out thatI did not know one rule ofgrammar and that I h-ad *,iit n boiks in thepast which had been rejected. I do not counr the one that had beenpublished in America, the book for boys. Then I remembered thatGurdjieffhad said, that if we wish to gainattention, will, individualiry,consciousness, we must begin with small things. 'Take one thing, somesmall thing, which you wish to do and c.t-ot do, and compel iourselfto do it. Doing this will give you a taste of real will.'

I had no wish to wrire as I had wished some years previously; I onlywjlhed to put down what I remembered of Gurdjiedso, after a perioiof 'yessing'.and 'noing'with myself I began,

"tt-d ", soon as I began I

felt better; but it never became easy and for seven years I labourid atmy writing, often with long periods of nothing in Lerween.

Being born with strong instinctive and emotional centres and neveruntil I iret the.Gurdjiefftlaching, having occasion to .rr" *y *ind,

"njkind of mental effort like writing was extremely difficult, and t founimyself malcing excuses to work in the garden digging, or at carpentry,or even washing up in order not to sit down anJ write; ""* th"thought of it repelled me. But, as soon as the effort was made and Ibcgan to write, I was aware of a sense of release and well-being.

After each period of not writing I had to make greater edrts inorder to begin again. At last, after siven years, I had impiled enough

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for a book from my own recollections and notes, and the notes ofother pupils. I proposed to have copies done on a duplicating machinefor the use of groups. However, having showed it to some elders inthe main group, they urged me to give it to a publisher. I was againstit as I thought no publisher would be interested. tn the end, I agreed,and left the typescript copy with a publisher, accompanied by a noteto thc effect that I penondly did not think they would be interestedn

but that some friends in the Gurdjieffwork had suggested my doingso.

To my surprise, in less than a week came a reply saying that contraryto my own feelings they would be very glad to publish the book.lt was published, The Journal of a Pupil, and was reprinted severaltimes, and the reviews were far better than I had e4pected or hoped.Letters followed from people all over the world. So, by making thiseffort I had done rootithittg for my neighbour and somethiog fotmyself.

But it was as ifthe book were being donc through me, as ifl weretheagent so to speak. In other words, 'I' wished to do it, and 'I' had tocompel the organism to labour and suffer to work it out.

The feeling of being an instnrment, or of 'I' using an instrument,came to me strongly while translaang The Conferetce of the Birdsfrom the French.It was as if I was in touch with Attar and understoodwhat he wished to say.

Writing did a great &al for my own development. Things thatbefore were vague, amorphous, became crystallized. Questions andtheir answers became more clearly formulated; and in passing on toothers something of what I had learnt, it became my own.

Anothcr thing. Lr this work a pupil comes to a point when, in orderto keep what he has experienced" he has to pass it on to someone. Ibegan to feel the need of doing this;.and it happened that I was visitedby an Australian who had been reading the books. 'We had talks overa long period and eventually I was invited to go to Sydney. I did notwant to go. Although I had worked and lived in Australia as a youthI had never liked it, in spite of having many relations there, old Austra-lian families, with whom my family was on good terms. It was thelast country I would have chosen to visit. However, it was an opporhr-nity of doing something I wished to do.

I made an effort, and went, and started the beginnings of a groupwhich, after many difrculties and disappointments has now nearly a

hundred people connected with it.247

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.--G*4j.i-.fi once spealcing abour starting a group in these ideas said,'You will make enemies', and it was so.

|Iany people now are becoming-interested-in Gurdjieff's Teaching,and.most.want just to be interestJd. when their vani-ry and self-lovelegins to be hurt, as it must io *y real group, pupils take offence and.leave. Yet those who can compel'th.*rJln"r^to-rei themselve,

", ,h.y

are, whatever the sufilbring, reap a ri& reward-they begin really toliv9, they become the twice-bo*. rh. pracrice ofthis teairing, *[i.hat first appears easy, just what I was looking for,' is the most"lifficultFhg i" the world. Everything is against-Jboth inside and out_theknowing of ounelves, against

"ffottrio be conscious of ourservps. The

Sufs call it 'sirar', a road or path, a bridge from the old life to rhe'new-F.-r *- a hair, sharper than a sword, 6eset with briars and thorns; butby following the path and crossing the bridge a man receives blessingsbeyond price.

In Paul's letters to his churches-his groups--one sees the samedi{ficulties now as then, for people remain Ih" r",,r" inwardly, howevermuch the exterior changes; iherl

"te the same dissensions, th" ram. dir-

agreements. And these-arise_in= whatever part of the wodd the groupmal be-. Yet, in spite of the difrculties aniin spite ofbeing setio,ily iilon both of 1I --njr ro Australia, whose riults lasted"long after Ireturned to England, the results have justified the effort. Aristralianshave good possibilities, and they have qualities that are neither Englishnor American. I have tried to pass on to some ofthem something ofih"tI have lcarnt from Gurdjieff"na ff Teaching over the p"rt foiy ye".r.In so doing I have lcept something ofwhat I-had. .What

I gavei icepC.

. T fy -tim9 at the Prieur6, Gurdjieff's companions were men of a

high level of developmenr; ir is sai that f.w of them survived theirteacher. }Iowadays it is_ sometimes given as a criticism of groups thatmany of those responsible for them are women. If this is io, iJir not.because

men in general are becoming more and more identified with'knowledge and progres' as ends In themselves, and less open tofeeling aboaneal ideas? It may be that Nature needs the creative co'nserv-.feelingaboaneal iing feeling force, which nonrral women have. yet men should be theactive positive force, and those who put the ,Teaching, into practicebecome so.

As a body of real ideas spreads and more peoplc becorne interesred,groups increase, and they have to be organized. The 'Teaching'is onc

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thing,_organization another. f.here must be organization but inevitablysome become identified with it, become identified with their own ani-tude to what they call 'the Work'; some even forget what the organiza-tion is for. This also is according to law. But serious striven, whilerecognizing the necessity for regulations, can remain unidentifiedwith organization and remember their real aim.

'Where the soil is rich wee& grow in plenry. Already there are appear-ing those who profess to c4pound Gurdjiefft ideai and to t""1f, th"movements-people who do not have the smallest idea of the innerteaching; whom Gurdjieffcdls 'stealers of essence vdues'.

_ Tle !:ac!ing remains the same; its outer manifestarions change.Gurdjigff when a phase of his work had served irs purpose, liquidaiedit, and began something nev/.

It is said that other schools are spreading the Teaching in anotherform, reaching different kinds of people. Yit I doubt if anyone in theWest today has anything approaching the force, the power, the nu-derstanding of G. I. Gurdjieff As regards Gurdjieff's work, it has beensaid that it finished with his dead4 and that groups are now repeatingwords, without undentanding the inner meaning.

This may be true of some groups, but what groups? Cerainly, there

1e groups inlondon and other parts of the world drat are bcing ledby peoele who never met Gurdjieff, some studying Ouspeniky'sphilosophy. These groups have litde value as regards the inner TeacJring;yet they may be a means ofleading a few to fed the need for somethingmore.

-But thgre are still people who worked with Gurdjiefffor some years

who aretanding on in groups what they got from him personally, andthis is of great value.

- Gurdjietr'sideas are spreading, and there are people in manyparts ofthe world, in England and France, Norrh and South Amirica andAustralia, who are studyingthem under the direction of pupils whoworked direcdy with Gurdjietr; and many in these dirFerent groups aregating something which helps to satisfy the inner longing to be notjusta ma&ine or a vegetating animal. I have observed in scores of peoplethe clra''ge that can take place in a few years-the inner change andthereby the outer change. As their inner life has grown, they have be-come better human beings.

ft *y be that as Gurdjieff wdtes of the Buddhists, after the thirdgeneration tle study ofhis ideas will become more dreoretical, the 'fol-lowers' will split into sects. There will no longer be the first generation

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Paris with Gardjief

of Gurdjieffi pupils; and the intcrpretation of the teachings,litdc bylitde, according to thc Law of the Octave, will become changed.But his writings will remain, his music, and his dances and movements;there will bc some, even if thcy did not know him, who will under-stend the inner teac,hing.

His writings, even for people who never knew him, can have theeffect of changing their attitude to life; they will bcgin to think in adifferent way, more normally. I have a friend who has never been ina group nor met anyone interested in the ideas except myself He is akey figure in a giant industry. A few years ago I introduced him toBeelzebub's Tales, and he tells me that it is his bedside book. He says

that people don't rerlite the depth of Gurdjieff's understanding of realscience.

Then the movements and the dances. Thesc have been carefullyrecorded and filmed, and if they are done exactly according to the ruleslaid down can have a vivifring effect on people for generations tocome. Ttey are objective art, and ev€n to see a film of some of themproduces a deep impression on an audience.

Tte same with the music.Professor Denis Saurat more than once said tbat Gurdjieff's teac"h-

ing will have a profound effect on men's thinking a hundred ycarshence.

Lifc becomes more complicated cvery year, and lcs satisfying; the oldlifc is breaking up everywhere. Men are acquiring more knowledge,and as they get more ordinary knowledge, their understanding dimin-ishes. Men know erreryrhtng about everything-and understand less

and less. Their energy is being used by their minds alonc, and theirfeeling for a good way of life is becoming almost non-existent. If itcontinues oru civilization may perish from too much knowledge. Onlyt;he Teaching can give a new direction, show the way for thc acquisi-don of being, which clrn cormteract this excessive knowledgc.

Krishna sa1n, 'When civilization {ills into decay then I manifestm)'self;' and the Teaching is given out in a form suitable to timc andcon&tions. It arises in thc East and comes from the real Sufs. It has

cxisted from the time of thc 6ll of man and is given out in diFerentforms at diFerent periods. Gurdjieff adaprcd the perennial Teachingfor the West and our time. He said that we should always be gratefulto the person ttoo"gh whom rye met the Teaching.

Whoever is the elder in understanding is the teacher. Like Evangelisttn Pilgrim's Progress the teacher can say:

250

Paris with Curdjief

I haue sown anil you have teapeil; anil the day is coning

wlen,'both he that sowah and they that rcap shall rcjoicn

togetfur': that is, f you hoill out,'for in ilue seaon ye shall

reap if ye Jaint not'.

And now I will end with the words of a Coptic scribe who livedabout a.o. r5o

Lord haue mercy

on the soilof the sinner

who wrote this book.

F/NIS

25r

INDEX

A.E. (George Russell), 47Atlantic Convoy, zo3

Beelzebub's Tales, t5, tg, SS,70, j7, Bo89, 96, roo, 106, r33, rS2, r1g etseq, t72. tgg,2A5, 242

Blake,'William, ro7, t7BBovingdon, z5Bragdon, Claude, 16oBuilding a house, z4o

Callixtus, St., z3zChelsea, zz3Chicf feature, 87.Chufchill, the yortng', t63Commcrcial travellers, 3Consciousness, tr6. rS4, tlt, zz4,236Corfe Castle, rz1, 222, 234Creation, zz8Czcch. refugees, rzo

Donne,John,57Douglas, C. H,,34,48Draper, Muriel, 19, 53

Eliot, T. S.,48lnneagram, z16Essence & Personality, 84, ror, rog,

rtgExercises, t86, zzo

Felt agenry, 3Fludd, Robert, z3oFragments of an Unknown Teaching,

to7, t'g, t6I, tg4,238,243

Garche, zt7Gathering Sap, Pufrrey, r8o

Germany, trzGill, Eric, 5oGnostics, t8o,227Gurdjieff 6, 8, 14, 19, 3r, 3J, 37 et $eq.,

53,68,j4,89,98, ro8, rro, rr8, r22,r39, r5r, 166, r98, 2t7,225,239,244

Harpenden, zo7Flarf,mann, Foma de, 68, zt7, ztgHeap,Jane, 78 ct seq., rr8Huald of Coming Cooil, SgHippolytus, St., zgzHodrberg, Count, 48Homcsickness, 136

Lnmortdiry 88

Landau, Rom,39Lawrence, Brother, r15Locust Vallen Long Island, rgg, rg7London,3Luton, 26, 2to,222Llne Place, 97, ro4, rog,242

McDiarmid, Hugh, 29, 48Iulahabharata, 56, zrtMendham, (Franklin Farms) NewJer-

scy, I9o ct seq.Meopham,4oMesoteric group, 8jMilton,John, xviiMinneapolis, r49Mortfists, the, tJMortality, awareness o{, zo9Muir, Edwin,49

New English Weekly,the, zg

253

New Model of the (Iniverse' 37Newf*re, Vermont, r74, 198

New Rochelle, r33New Yotk, tS, t33. t57Nicoll Maurice, 8, ro9, rro

Octave, the,86, zz7Orage, A, R., 9, rz et seq., 28'

ct seg., 2r9Ouspenskn P. D., 8, 37, 47' 90 et seq,

gs. to2 et seq., r23, t58 et seg.' 164'

r98,2O5,238Ouspensky, Sophia Gregorievna, rzz,

t58, t'19, t89,239,243

Pamplona, z6Pea.er, zt4Pearl Harbour, 165

Petcrs, Fritz, 8o

Pin&rs, F. S., 89 et scq., 98, 242

Pound, Ezra 5oPowys,J. C., 16

PrieurC, 68Publishing, 43, rr4Putney School, The, 169 et seg.

Index

Recurrence,3o, j4, J5, 99, roo, rr5,r29, t95,2O7,2t4

Russell. Bertrand, ro, t3, z6

St. Mawes, 4rSaurat, Denis, zg, 41, et seq., 54, 2rsSaurat, Denis, Comments on Beelzc-

bub's Tales,45Sryings, of my grandfather, 116

Sacred Dances, z4o

'Scientific' Farming, r83Silesius, 57,83,23tSkridloff, ZS

Solioonensius, 27' 32' 34, tr2Swedenborg, Emmaneul, r5oSwing, Raymond Gram, r74, r98 )

Taliesin, r43

\l*, tz4, zt4'Wcst rr4th St., N.Y., 167'Wisconsin, t4z'Wright, Frank Lloyd, r38, r43'Writing, t77,246

A SELECTION OF ROUAEDGE PAPERBACKS

Beelzebub's Tales to his Grandson (3 aolumes) G. I. GurdjieffBeyond the Body Benjamin ValkerThe Conference of the Birds Farid Ud-DinAttarEl/Ella Miguel SerranoThe FourthlVay P. D. OuspenskyGhost and Ghoul T. C. LethbridgeIn Search of the Miraculous P. D. OuspenskyThe Initiate By His PupilThe Initiate in the New World By Hip PupilThe Initiate in the Dark Cycle By His PupilThe Life of Buddha as Legend and History Edward J. ThomasMeetings with Remarkable Men G. I. GurdjieffThe Method of Zen Eugen HerrigelThe Mystics of Islam R. A. NichohodA New Model of the Universe P. D. OuspenskyOutline of Modern Occultism Cyril bcottA Primer of Soto Zen Reiho Masuna$aRumi the Persian, the Sufi A. Reza fuastehThe Secret of the Golden Flower A Chinese Book of LifeThe Serpent of Paradise Miguel SerranoTeachings of Gurdiiefr C. S. NottTertiumOrganum P. D. Ouspensky I

The Tiger's Cave Translations of Japanese Zen Terrs Trerbr LeggettTM Technique The TM Bookfor Sceptics Peter Russell ,

The Ultimate Flower Miguel Serrano ' ,

The Unknowable Gurdiieff Margaret AndersonViews from the Real World G. I. GurdiieffVisits of the Queen of Sheba Miguel SerranoZen and the Ways Trevor Leggett IZen in the Art of Archery Eugen Her.rigelZen in the Art of Flower Arrangement Gustie L. Herrigel

5r

It1r,

254

'I

i

FURTHER TEACIIINGS OF GI.]RDTEFFJourney through this lVorld

This is the author's second journal and a sequel tohis Teachings ofGurdjieff: A Pupil'sJournal. C. S. Nott relates events in his life from1927 to 1949, both in Europe and America, telling of meetings withGurdjieffin_France, his friendship with A. R. Orage in England andhis contact with P. D. Ouspensky in England and, during the war,inAmerica.The book includes an account of the time the author and his familyspent vdth the Frank Lloyd ttrTrights at their estate Taliesin, inWisconsin, and tells also of his life at The Putney School, Vermont.Mr Nott also writes of his financial struggles both in England and theUnited States and of the various jobs he did: agent for a feltmanufacturer, small publisher, farm worker, editor, writer andpaint sprayer.The book contains a summary of Gurdiieff's strange booklet, Heraldof Coming Good, whichNott distributedfor Gurdjieff, andto an

account of his contact with the various Gurdjieffpupils, especially

during the war. Throughout the narrative there runs as a centraltheme the teaching of Gurdjieff, its impact on the narrator and hisstriving to carry what he had received from Gurdjieff. ." :-.

'A strikingly honest and well-written book.'

- H. D. Ziman,Daily Telegraph '

'This is probably the most outspoken account ofthe relations betweenG. I. Gurdjieffand two of his most remarkable pupils, A. R. Orageand P. D. Ouspensky; it is also revealing of the spiritual hungerGurdjieffaroused in a Europe of discredited churches and postwarretreat into the delights ofthe flesh.'

- The Times Educational Supplement

Routledge &KeganPaul

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