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seemed to me perfectly foolish, and seems so
still.
Everything, i.e., the little which I know, goes
back to the Ego as its central point. Not the
cultus, indeed, but the culture of this Ego seems,
therefore, the highest and ultimate aim of
existence. My final and constant answer to his
objections, therefore, was: “The killing of the
Ego is self-murder.”
Moreover, before whom should I bow myself?
Before the theosophists? Never! But before
the Eternal, the Powers, Providence, I seek to
subdue my evil propensities daily as much as
possible. To combat for the preservation of my
ego, against all influence which a sect or party,
from love of ruling, may bring to bear upon me,
that is my duty enjoined on me by conscience;
the guide which the grace of my divine protector
has given me.
Nevertheless, because of the qualities of this
unseen friend, whom I felt drawn to love
and admire, I put up with his admonitions
when he often addressed me in a presumptuous
way as his inferior. I always answered him,
but did not conceal from him my dislike for
theosophy.
Finally, however—it was during the Popoffsky
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