Some remarks professedly concerned with “The Higher Life,” appearing in “THE PATH” for July, over the _nom de plume_ of _Murdhna Joti_, strike me as presenting the readers with so narrow and unwholesome a view of Theosophic principles, that I find myself impelled to point out some of the misconceptions from which they seem to arise. That hard-worked phrase the “Dweller on the Threshold” has been interpreted in many fantastic senses, but surely it has never before been saddled with so ludicrously inappropriate a meaning as in this essay where it is made to stand for love of kindred and love of country. That these ennobling sentiments are what the writer means by “family defects” and “national defects” is apparent from the passage that would be little less than blasphemous in the ears of any real oriental Chela with whom I have ever been acquainted,—in which:—“A Mahatma has, it appears, declared that he has still patriotism. But he has not said nor would say that he has still family attachment. This proves that he has got out of the defects of the family to which he belongs, while he is only striving to get out of national defects, some of which at any rate cling to him.” The reference here is of course to one of the letters quoted by me in the _Occult World_, in which the writer so beautifully shows that the exalted rank in nature to which he has attained, leaves him as free as ever to entertain generous emotions of sympathy with the race to which his latest personality belongs. If he had been dealing with the subject from another point of view he would have equally shown himself to be,—as I have good reason to believe that he is,—animated by still more specific attachments to certain persons of his physical kindred. “Defects” of family and defects of nationality may undoubtedly be reflected in given individuals, and like any other personal failings may in such cases stand in the way of devotion to the Higher Life; but such defects are not those which are convertible terms, according to the extraordinary essay before me, with healthy patriotism and domestic affection. And I can hardly imagine a more grotesquely misleading account of occult progress than that which represents the “beginner” as employed upon first extinguishing his regard for his relations, and going on to teach himself indifference to the land of his birth. If the extravagance of such a doctrine could be enhanced in an essay addressed to Western readers, it would be thus intensified by its author’s reference to the “family duties” which must be duly accomplished first before the promising neophyte in the training subsequently prescribed for him is at liberty to enter the “circle of ascetics.” A certain haziness clings round his theory as to the nature of these duties, but enough is said to show any reader familiar with India, that the writer’s mind is running on the exoteric customs of the Hindu which constitute the local superstitions of the common people,—a designation