1 Great Knowledge necessary for doing in Ch 48 1

[Shiemash51]

1 Great Knowledge necessary for doing in Ch 48 1

Grandiosity is one of those
inevitable involuntary manifestations
that must be guarded against if we are
to maintain ourselves as "stealthy,"
or impartial.

SO WE ROLE PLAY IT!!

"Man is a plurality. Man's name
is legion. The alternation of I's,
their continual obvious struggle
for supremacy, is controlled by
accidental external influences."
--Gurdjieff
--p 59 of In Search of the Miraculous

In those spheres where 
exact definitions, by their 
very nature, imply inexactitude 
in meaning, there is a tendency 
and a propensity in "intellectual 
types" to look for logical 
definitions and logical
arguments against 
everything they see 
and hear which does 
not agree with their 
cause, crusade or 

agenda. 

In the personal, family
and social life, in politics,
science, art, philosophy, and
religion, in everything entering
into the process of ordinary life
of these self-same intellectual-
socialist types, everything 
from beginning to end, 
there is not a single 
one of these victims of 
contemporary socialist 
civilization 
that can "do" 
anything but, rather, 
everything does itself 
in them and the proof 
as well as the measure 
of this is "letter of 
the law" and how it 
outweighs "substance."

Organizational rules and
requirements are the center 
of gravity of these types. 

The truth of all of this
is experimentally proved
by sitting in various 
coffee shops and
restaurants around
town and harmlessly
observing this "letter
of the law" behavior of
people. 

Of this psychopathy associated
with so-called "altruism" and
"philanthropy" it is necessary
to become convinced by certain
efforts upon ourselves, by efforts 
of self-observation, efforts of being 
honest with ourselves about our 
delusions that we can really
help others when we cannot
even help ourselves, to 
sense in ourselves by 
divine impulse of Divine
Reason, such Reason by way
of which the divine impulse
of Objective Conscience might
remain forever an inseparable
part of our ordinary consciousness:

"When the organization of the 
first Heeshtvori Brotherhood in 
the city of Djoolfapal had been 
more or less regulated, and was
established in such a way that 
the further work could be carried 
on independently, simply under the 
direction of the Reason of the
brethren present in the 
brotherhood, the Very 
Saintly Ashiata
Shiemash himself 
then set about choosing 
from among the 'all-rights-
possessing brothers' those who 
had begun, consciously by their
Reason and unconsciously by their 
feelings, to sense this divine impulse 
in their subconscious, and who were 
fully convinced that by certain 
efforts upon themselves this 
divine being-impulse might
become and remain forever 
an inseparable part of their 
ordinary consciousness. And 
those who had sensed and become 
aware of this divine impulse of 
Conscience, and who were called
'FIRST-DEGREE INITIATES,' he set 
apart, and he began to enlighten
their Reason separately concerning 
'objective truths' which up till
then had been quite unknown to 
the three-brained beings of 
that planet."
--Gurdjieff, ch 27 Beelzebub's Tales

"It is necessary to dwell upon 
this because the INTELLECTUALISM 
of contemporary education imbues 
people WITH A PROPENSITY AND A 
TENDENCY TO LOOK FOR LOGICAL 
DEFINITIONS AND FOR LOGICAL 
ARGUMENTS AGAINST EVERYTHING 
THEY HEAR AND, WITHOUT NOTICING 
IT, PEOPLE UNCONSCIOUSLY FETTER 
THEMSELVES WITH THEIR DESIRE, AS 
IT WERE, FOR EXACTITUDE IN THOSE 
SPHERES WHERE EXACT DEFINITIONS, 
BY THEIR VERY NATURE, IMPLY
INEXACTITUDE IN MEANING."
Gurdjieff, p 284, In Search Of

Real "I" by its very nature is
stealthy and totally invisible
to all other I's.

God is Invisible . . . which is
to say He does not Lord Himself
over others in terms of life of
itself, of the world of itself.

Behind Real "I" is God.

Only what is called the 
Great Knowledge can enable
a man to "do" and so it ought
to be clear to the reader at 
this point what Gurdjieff 
meant when he said that
all acts of "altruism"
and "philanthropy" are
psychopathy NOT BECAUSE
OF THEIR WELL-MEANING INTENT
OF HELPING OTHERS AND "THE CHILDREN"
but because all that they call "doing"
is worldly and has nothing to do with
the development of real individuality
and such worldly lines cannot 
survive death as well as the
fact that over the long term
of these worldly lines such
well-meaning people only make
things worse and not better for
other people "in need."

Ordinary man can "do" nothing 
and everything does itself in 
him and this corresponds with 
all that is said and taught 
about man in our public 
education system.

Even if only as a place to stand 
in the face of the graveyard of
ordinary life of itself which,
of itself, yields only 
hopelessness to a life
of sleep, a method such 

as a fourth way method as 

a form of inward occupation 

and meditation is nothing less 

than homeschooling by way of 

one's own initiative, that is, the 

inner self-reliance of Ralph

Waldo Emerson and is something
more than the beginning of a 

"radiant wind" and source of 

"evil radiation" leading to 

nowhere.

According to the science
that we learn from public
education, a man or woman
is a very complicated organism
which has developed by way of
what public school calls
"evolution," from the
level of the simplest
organism, and so is
capable of reacting
in a very sophisticated
manner to external impressions.
And so it seems to a naive observer,
that is to say, from the outside looking
in, that the capacity for reaction in
both men and women is spontaneous 

and independent when, in reality, the
"answering movements" what are
called "reactions" are far
removed from the causes
which called them forth
and conditioned them.

What is not taught in
public school is that
a man or woman is not
capable at all of even
the smallest independent
or spontaneous action. He
or she is nothing but the
result of external influences
and this coincides with what
I wrote before about the law
of the animal how it is that
ALL OF OUR ACTIONS are the
result of behavior law-
conformable to the law
of the animal such as . . .

EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF,
AND GOD AGAINST ALL . . .

and

THE DEVIL TAKE 

THE HINDMOST . . . 

and

ON THE PATH OF 
LEAST RESISTANCE . . .

. . . which is to say
that all of us men and
women are nothing but the
result of external influences.
Both men and women are processes,
that is to say, "transmitting
stations" of forces of
Cosmic Tension, it can
be said that both men
and women are transmitters
of cosmic forces and so
there is the question
asked by Gurdjieff:

"How can he [or she]
be independent of the
external influences
of great cosmic forces
when he [or she] is the
slave of everything that
surrounds him [or her]?"

Quoting directly from
page 69 of Views from
the Real World:

"Man is the being
who can 'do,' says
this teaching. To do
means to act consciously
and according to one's will.
And we must recognize that we
cannot find any more complete
definition of man.

"Animals differ from plants
by their power of locomotion.
And although a mollusc attached
to a rock, and also certain seaweeds
capable of moving against the current,
seem to violate this law, yet the law
is quite true--a plant can neither 
hunt for food, avoid a shock nor
hide itself from its pursuer.

"Man differs from the animal
by his capacity for conscious
action, his capacity for doing.
We cannot deny this, and we see
that this definition satisfies
all requirements. It makes it
possible to single out man
from a series of other
beings not possessing
the power of conscious
action, and at the same
time according to the degree
of consciousness in his actions.

"Without any exaggeration we can
say that all the differences which
strike us among men can be reduced
to the differences in the 
consciousness of their
actions. Men seem to us
to vary so much just because
the actions of some of them are,
according to our opinion, deeply
conscious, while the actions of
others are so unconscious that
they even seem to surpass the
unconsciousness of stones, 
which at least react
rightly to external
phenomena. The question
is complicated by the mere
fact that often one and the
same man shows us, side by 
side with what appear to 
us entirely conscious
actions of will, other
quite unconscious animal-
mechanical reactions. In 
virtue of this, man appears
to us to be an extraordinarily
complicated being. This teaching
denies this complication and puts
before us a very difficult task in
connection with man. Man is he who
can 'do' but among ordinary men, as 
well as among those who are considered
extraordinary, there is no one who can
'do.' In their case, everything from
beginning to end is 'done,' there is
nothing they can 'do.'"
--Gurdjieff
--p 69, views from the real world

"This experimentally proved, 
categorical affirmation of the 
Institute for the Harmonious 
Development of Man, namely, 
that the ordinary man can 
'do' nothing and that 
everything does itself 
in him, coincides with 
what is said of
man by contemporary 
'exact positive science.'

"Contemporary 'exact positive 
science' says that a man is a 
very complex organism developed 
by evolution from the simplest 
organisms, and now capable of 
reacting in a very complex 
manner to external 
impressions.

"This capacity for reaction 
in man is so complex, and the 
reflex movements can be so far 
removed from the causes evoking 
and conditioning them, that to 
naive observation the actions 
of man, or at least some of 
them, seem quite spontaneous.

"According to the ideas of 
Gurdjieff, the ordinary man 
is really incapable of the 
slightest independent or 
spontaneous action or word.

"He is entirely the result 
of external influences.

"Man is a transforming machine, 
a kind of transmitting station 
of forces.

"Thus from the point of view of 
the totality of Gurdjieff's ideas 
and also according to contemporary 
'exact positive science,' a man 
differs from animals only in 
the greater complexity both 
of his reactions to external 
impressions and of the 
structure of his 
perceptive system.

"And as for that which is 
attributed to man and is 
called 'will,' Gurdjieff 
completely denies the 
possibility of its 
existence in the 
common presence 
of the ordinary 
man.

"Will is a certain combination 
obtained from the results of 
definite properties specially 
elaborated in themselves by 
people who can 'do.'

"In the presence of ordinary 
people what they call 'will' 
is exclusively the resultant 
of desires.

"Real will is the sign of a 
very high degree of being in 
comparison with the being of 
the ordinary man. And only 
those who possess such 
being can 'do.'

"All other people are simply 
automatons, machines, or mechanical 
toys set in motion by external forces, 
acting only insofar as the 'spring' 
placed in them acts in response to 
accidental surrounding conditions—-
a spring that they can neither 
lengthen nor shorten, nor 
change in any way on 
their own initiative.

"And so, while recognizing great 
possibilities in man, we deny him 
any value as an independent unit 
as long as he remains such as he 
is today.

In order to emphasize the 
absence of any will whatsoever 
in the ordinary man, there can 
be added here a passage from 
another of Gurdjieff's talks, 
in which the manifestations 
of this famous will 
attributed to man 
are picturesquely 
described.

Addressing one of the 
people present, 
Gurdjieff said:

"You have plenty of money, 
luxurious conditions of existence, 
and universal esteem and respect. 
At the head of your well-
established business
concerns you have 
people who are 
absolutely 
reliable and 
devoted to you, 
in a word, your 
life is a bed of 
roses.

"You dispose of your time 
as you please, you are a patron 
of the arts, you settle world 
questions over a cup of 
coffee, and you even take 
an interest in the development 
of the latent spiritual forces 
of man. You are not unfamiliar
with matters of the spirit, and 
you are quite at home with 
philosophical questions. 
You are well educated 
and widely read. Having 
extensive knowledge in a 
variety of fields, you are 
reputed to be an intelligent 
man, adept at resolving any 
problem whatever. You are 
the very model of culture.

"All who know you regard 
you as a man of great will, 
and most of them even ascribe 
your success to the result of 
the manifestations of this 
will of yours.

"In short, from every point 
of view, you fully deserve 
to be imitated and are a 
man to be envied.

"In the morning you wake 
up under the influence of 
some oppressive dream.

"Your slightly depressed mood, 
though rapidly dispelled on 
awakening, has nevertheless 
left its mark a certain 
languidness and 
hesitancy in your 
movements.

"You go to the mirror to 
brush your hair and carelessly 
drop the brush, you have only 
just picked it up, when you 
drop it again. You then pick 
it up with a shade of impatience, 
and so you drop it for the third 
time, you try to catch it in
the air, but . . . an unlucky 
blow of your hand, and the 
brush makes for the mirror, 
in vain you try to grab it . . . too late! 

Crack! . . . 

There is a star of
cracks on that antique 
mirror of which you were 
so proud.

"Damn! Devil take it! You 
feel a need to vent your 
annoyance on someone or 
other, and not finding 
the newspaper beside your 
morning coffee, the servant 
having forgotten to put it 
there, the cup of your 
patience overflows and 
you decide that you 
cannot stand the 
fellow any longer 
in the house.

"It is time for you to go out. 
As the weather is fine and you 
haven't far to go, you decide 
to walk. Behind you glides 
your new automobile of the 
latest model.

"The bright sunshine somewhat 
calms you. A crowd that has 
collected at the corner 
attracts your attention.

"You go nearer, and in the 
middle of the crowd you see 
a man lying unconscious on 
the pavement. A policeman, 
with the help of some of 
the 'bystanders,' puts the 
man into a taxi to take him 
to the hospital.

"Thanks merely to the likeness, 
which has just struck you, between 
the face of the taxi driver and the 
face of the drunken monk you bumped 
into last year when you were 
returning, somewhat tipsy 
yourself, from a rowdy
birthday party, you 
notice that the accident 
on the street corner is
unaccountably connected 
in your associations 
with a cake you ate 
at that party.

"Ah, what a cake that was!

"That servant of yours, 
forgetting your newspaper 
today, spoiled your breakfast. 
Why not make up for it right 
now?

"Here is a fashionable Café 
where you sometimes go with 
your friends.

"But why did you suddenly 
remember the servant? Had 
you not almost entirely 
forgotten the morning's 
annoyances? But now . . . 
how very good the
cake tastes with 
the coffee.

"Look! There are two young 
women at the next table. 
What a charming blonde!

"You hear her whispering to 
her companion, as she glances 
at you 'Now that's just the 
sort of man I like!'

"Do you deny that on 
accidentally overhearing 
these words, perhaps said
out loud for your benefit, 
the whole of you, as is 
said, 'inwardly 
rejoices'?

"Suppose that at this moment 
you were asked whether it had 
been worth while getting worked 
up and losing your temper over 
the morning's annoyances, you 
would of course answer in the 
negative and promise yourself 
that nothing of the kind 
would ever occur again.

"Need I mention how your mood 
was transformed while you were 
making the acquaintance of the 
blonde you were interested in 
and who was interested in you, 
and what your state was during 
the whole time you spent with 
her?

"You return home humming some 
gay tune, and even the sight 
of the broken mirror only 
elicits a smile from you.

"But how about the business 
on which you had gone out 
this morning? . . . You 
only now remember it. 
Clever . . . well, 
never mind, you 
can telephone.

"You go to the phone and 
the girl connects you with 
the wrong number.

"You ring again, and get the 
same number. Some man informs 
you that you are bothering him, 
you tell him it is not your fault, 
and what with one word and another, 
you learn to your surprise that you 
are a boor and an idiot and that 
if you ring him up again . . . then . . .

"A rug slipping under your feet 
provokes a storm of indignation, 
and you should hear the tone of 
voice in which you rebuke the 
servant who is handing you a 
letter!

"The letter is from a man you 
esteem and whose good opinion 
you value highly.

"Its contents are so flattering 
that, as you read, your irritation 
subsides and gives way to the 
'pleasant embarrassment' of a 
man listening to a eulogy of 
himself. You finish reading 
the letter in the happiest 
of moods.

"I could go on with this 
picture of your day—-
you free man!

"Perhaps you think 
I am exaggerating?

"No, it is a photographically 
exact snapshot, taken from life."
--ch 48, from the author

The material above in
chapter 48 of Beelzebub's
Tales to His Grandson about
a day in the life of some
wealthy man who fancies
himself as a real man
with real will but, in
reality, is not a real
man with real will, can
also be found almost word
for word in Views from
the Real World in the 
section of the book 
entitled "WHEN SPEAKING
ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS . . ." 
and continues in views with 
the following:

"This was a day in the life
of a man well known both at
home and abroad, a day reconstructed
and described by him that same evening
as a vivid example of ASSOCIATIVE
THINKING AND FEELING. Tell me
where is the freedom when 
people and things possess
a man to such an extent
that he forgets his mood,
his business and himself?
In a man who is subject to
such variation can there be
any serious attitude toward
his search?

"You understand better now
that a man need not necessarily
be what he appears to be, that the
question is not one of external
circumstances and facts but of 
the inner structure of a man
and of his attitude toward
these facts. But perhaps
this is only true for 
his associations; with
regard to things he
'knows' about, perhaps
the situation is different."
--Gurdjieff, p 48, views

pages 4 and 5 of the
Prologue to the 3rd Series:

"As I had the intention of
publishing the first series
of my writings the following
year, I therefore decided,
parallel with working on the
books of the second series,
to hold frequent public
readings of the
first series.

"I decided to do this in order,
before finally sending them to
press, to review them once more
but this time in accordance with
the impressions with which different
fragments were received by people 

of different typicalities and different
degrees [DIFFERENT LEVELS] of 

mental development.

"And in view of this aim, I began
from then on to invite to my city
apartment different persons of my
acquaintance of corresponding
individuality to hear the chapter
proposed for correction, which was
read aloud by somebody in their
presence.

"At that time, I had my principal
place of residence for my whole
family as well as for myself at
Fontainebleau, but because of my
frequent visits to Paris I was

obliged also to have an 

apartment there.

"During these common readings,
in the presence of listeners
of many different typicalities,
while simultaneously observing
the audience and listening to
my writing, now ready for
publication, I for the first
time very definitely established
and clearly, without any doubt,
understood the following:

"The form of the exposition of
my thoughts in these writings
could be understood exclusively
by those readers who, in one
way or another, were already
acquainted with the peculiar
form of my mentation.

"But every other reader for
whom, strictly speaking, I
had goaded myself almost day
and night during this time,
would understand nearly
nothing.

"During this common reading,
by the way, I enlightened
myself for the first time
with regard to the particular
form in which it would be
necessary to write in order
that it might by accessible
to the understanding of
everyone."
--Gurdjieff, LIR 

CHAPTER 48

first half of chapter

From the author

Beelzebub's Tales
to His Grandson

AFTER six years of work, 
merciless toward myself 
and with almost continuous 
tense mentation, yesterday 
I at last finished putting 
down on paper in a form, I 
think, accessible to everybody 
the first of the three series 
of books I intended to write, 
and in which I had decided 
to develop a whole body of 
ideas, which would permit 
me to accomplish, first 
in theory and then in 
practice, by means I 
had previously thought 
out, three essential 
tasks I had set 
myself by means 
of the first series, 
to destroy in people 
everything that in their 
false representations appears 
to exist in reality or, in 
other words, to sweep away 
without mercy "all the 
rubbish accumulated in 
human mentation over the 
ages", by means of the 
second series, to 
prepare "new 
constructional 
material", and 
by means of the 
third, "to build 
a new world."

Having now finished the 
first series of books, and 
following the practice, 
established on Earth 
long ago, of never 
concluding any such 
"great undertaking" 
without what some 
call an "epilogue," 
others an "afterword," 
still others "from the 
author," and so on, I 
also now propose to 
write something of 
the kind.

With this in view, I read 
over very attentively this 
morning the "preface" I wrote 
six years ago, entitled "The 
Arousing of Thought," in 
order to take suitable 
ideas from it for what 
might be called a 
corresponding 
"logical fusion" 
of that beginning 
with this conclusion 
I am now about to write.

While reading that first 
chapter, which I wrote only 
six years ago, but which gave 
me the sensation of having been 
written long, long ago-a sensation 
that is now in my common presence 
undoubtedly because during those 
years I had to think intensely, 
and even, as might be said, to 
"experience" all the material 
required for eight thick volumes, 
as not for nothing is it stated 
in that branch of genuine 
science called the "laws 
of association of human 
mentation," which has come 
down from very ancient times 
and is known to only a few 
contemporary people, that 
"the sensation of the flow 
of time is directly proportional 
to the quality and quantity of the 
flow of thoughts"-well then, while 
I was reading that first chapter, 
which, as I said, I had thought 
about deeply from every aspect 
and "experienced" almost 
exclusively under the 
action of my voluntary 
self-mortification, and 
which, moreover, I had 
written at a time when 
the functioning of my 
entire whole-a functioning 
that engenders in a man what 
is called the "power to manifest 
himself by his own initiative"-
was utterly disharmonized, that 
is, when I was still extremely 
ill from the effects of an 
accident that had occurred 
to me not long before, 
consisting in a "charge 
and crash" of my automobile 
at full speed into a tree 
standing silently, like an 
observer and reckoner of the 
disorderly passage of centuries, 
on the historic road between the 
world capital of Paris and the 
town of Fontainebleau-a 
"charge" which, according 
to any sane human understanding, 
should have put an end to my life-
well then, from reading that 
chapter there arose in me a 
quite definite decision.

Recalling my state during 
the writing of that first 
chapter, I cannot help 
adding here-owing to a 
small weakness of mine that 
always causes me to experience 
an inner satisfaction whenever 
I see on the faces of our 
estimable contemporary 
"representatives of 
exact science" that 
very specific smile, 
peculiar to them alone-
that although, after this 
accident, my body was so 
battered and "everything 
in it so disordered" that 
for months it presented a 
general picture which might 
be described as "a piece of 
live meat in a clean bed," my 
correctly disciplined "spirit," 
as it would usually be called, 
despite the physical state of 
my body, was not in the least 
depressed, as it should have 
been according to their notions. 
On the contrary, its power was 
even increased by the intense 
excitation that had been 
aroused in it just before 
the accident by my repeated 
disappointment in people, 
particularly in those who 
devote themselves to what 
they call "science," and 
by the disillusion caused 
me by that ideal which had 
gradually been formed in my 
common presence thanks chiefly 
to a commandment inculcated in 
me in my childhood, which 
affirms that "the highest 
aim and sense of human life 
is the striving for the 
welfare of one's 
neighbor," and 
that this is 
attainable only 
through the conscious 
renunciation of one's 
own.

And so, after I had attentively 
read over that opening chapter 
of the first series, written 
in the conditions just 
described, and had 
recalled by 
association 
the texts of 
the many succeeding 
chapters which, according 
to my conviction, are bound 
to produce in the consciousness 
of the readers non-habitual 
impressions that always, as 
is said, "engender 
substantial results," 
"I"-or rather that 
"something" dominant 
in my common presence 
that now represents 
the sum of the 
results issuing 
from the data 
crystallized during 
my life, data which, 
among other things, 
engender in a man who 
has set himself the aim 
of "mentating actively and 
impartially" during his 
responsible existence 
the ability to 
penetrate and 
understand the 
psyche of people 
of various types-
I decided, in concluding 
this first series of my 
writings, and urged by 
the impulse called "love 
of kind" that arose in me 
at that moment, to limit 
myself to appending the 
first of a considerable 
number of my lectures 
that were read publicly 
during the existence of 
the establishment I had 
founded under the name 
of the "Institute for 
the Harmonious 
Development of 
Man."

That Institute, by the way, 
no longer exists, and I find 
it both necessary and opportune, 
chiefly in order to pacify 
certain types in various 
corners of the world, to 
declare categorically, 
here and NOW, that I 
have liquidated it 
completely and 
forever.

It was with an impulse of 
inexpressible grief and 
despondency that I was 
constrained to make the 
decision to liquidate this 
Institute, and also everything 
organized and carefully prepared 
for the opening, the following year, 
of eighteen branches in different 
countries-in short, to abandon 
everything I had previously 
created with almost 
superhuman labor-
chiefly because, about 
three months after the 
aforementioned accident, 
when the functioning of my 
usual mentation had been more 
or less reestablished, although 
my body was still quite powerless, 
I realized that the attempt to 
preserve the existence of this 
Institute, in the absence of 
real people around me and 
the impossibility of 
procuring, without my 
help, the enormous 
material means 
required, would 
inevitably lead 
to a catastrophe 
that would result 
for me, in my old 
age, as well as for 
many others wholly 
dependent on me, 
in a condition 
of half-starved 
"vegetation."

The lecture I propose to 
add as a conclusion to this 
first series was read more 
than once during the 
existence of the 
Institute by my 
"pupils of the 
first rank," as 
they were then called. 
Certain of them, by the 
way, as it later turned 
out to my sincere regret, 
showed a predisposition in 
their essence to the swift 
transformation of their 
psyche into the psyche 
called "hasnamussian"-
a predisposition that 
soon became evident and 
clearly discernible to all 
more or less normal persons 
around them when, at the 
moment of inevitable 
crisis-due to my 
accident-in everything 
I had thus far accomplished, 
they, "fearing for their skins," 
that is, fearing to lose their 
personal welfare, which by the 
way I had created for them, 
deserted the common work 
and, with their tails 
between their legs, 
took themselves off 
to their kennels where, 
profiting by the crumbs 
fallen from my so to say 
"idea table," they opened 
what I would call their 
"schachermacher workshop 
booths" and, with a secret 
feeling of hope and perhaps 
even of joy at their speedy 
and complete release from my 
vigilant control, began 
manufacturing out of 
various unfortunate, 
naive people 
"candidates for 
lunatic asylums."

I have chosen this particular 
lecture because when I first 
began to spread the ideas I 
wished to introduce into 
the life of people, it 
was specially composed 
here in Europe to serve 
as the introduction or, 
as it were, "threshold" 
to the complete series of 
lectures, the totality of 
which alone can make clear 
in a form accessible to 
everybody the necessity, 
and even the unavoidable 
obligation, of putting 
into practice the 
immutable truths I 
have elucidated and 
established in half 
a century of active 
work, day and night, 
and also to prove that 
it is actually possible 
to employ these truths for 
the welfare of people. And 
furthermore I chose this 
lecture because, 
happening to be 
present at the 
large gathering 
where it was last 
read publicly, I made 
an addition to it which 
fully corresponds to the 
hidden thought introduced 
by Mr Beelzebub himself 
into his so to say 
"concluding chord," 
an addition which, 
by illuminating once 
more that supreme objective 
truth, will in my opinion 
enable the reader to 
perceive and 
assimilate it 
as befits a 
being who 
claims to 
be made in 
the "image 
of God."

LECTURE I

The Diversity, 
According to Law, 
of the Manifestations 
of Human Individuality

LAST READ AT THE 
NEIGHBORHOOD PLAYHOUSE 
IN NEW YORK JANUARY 1924

The investigations of many 
scientists of past ages, and 
also the data obtained at the 
present time by means of the 
quite exceptionally 
conducted research 
of the Institute for 
the Harmonious Development 
of Man according to the system 
of G. I. Gurdjieff, have shown 
that the whole individuality 
of every man-according to 
higher laws and the 
conditions of the 
process of human life, 
established from the very 
beginning and gradually fixed 
on Earth-of whatever heredity 
he is the result, and in 
whatever accidental 
conditions he arose 
and developed, must 
from the beginning of 
his responsible life, in 
order to respond to the 
sense and predestination 
of his existence as a man 
and not merely as an animal, 
indispensably consist of four 
definite and distinct 
personalities.

The first of these 
four independent 
personalities is 
nothing other 
than the 
totality 
of the 
automatic 
functioning 
proper to man, 
as to all animals, 
the data for which 
are composed, on the 
one hand, of the sum 
total of the results 
of impressions perceived 
since birth from all the 
surrounding reality, as 
well as from everything 
intentionally implanted 
in him from outside and, 
on the other hand, of 
the result of the process, 
also inherent in every animal, 
called "daydreaming." And this 
totality of automatic 
functioning most people 
ignorantly call 
"consciousness" 
or, at best, 
"thinking."

The second of the 
four personalities, 
functioning in most 
cases entirely independently 
of the first, is the sum of 
the results of data 
deposited and fixed 
in the common presence 
of every man, as of every 
animal, through the six organs 
called "receivers of vibrations 
of different qualities"-organs 
that function in accordance with 
the new impressions perceived, 
and whose sensitivity depends 
upon heredity and upon the 
conditions of the preparatory 
formation for responsible 
existence of the given 
individual.

The third independent part 
of the whole being is the 
basic functioning of his 
organism as well as the 
play of the motor-reflex 
manifestations acting upon 
each other within that functioning-
manifestations whose quality likewise 
depends on heredity and the 
circumstances prevailing 
during his preparatory 
formation.

And the fourth personality, 
which should also be a distinct 
part of the whole individual, is 
none other than the manifestation 
of the totality of the results of 
the already automatized functioning 
of the three enumerated personalities 
separately formed and independently 
educated in him, that is to say, it 
is that part of a being which is 
called "I."

In the common presence of a man, 
for the spiritualization and 
manifestation of each of the 
three separately formed parts 
of his entire whole there is 
an independent "center-of-gravity 
localization," as it is called, that 
is to say, a "brain", and each of these 
localizations, with its own complete 
system, has for the totality of its 
manifestations its own 
peculiarities and 
predispositions 
proper to it 
alone. Consequently, 
in order to make possible 
the all-round perfecting of 
a man, a corresponding, correct 
education is absolutely indispensable 
for each of these three parts-and not 
such a treatment as is given nowadays 
under the name of "education."

Only then can the "I" 
that should be in a man 
be his own "I."

According to the serious 
experiments and investigations 
already mentioned, which were 
carried on over many years, 
or even simply according to 
the sane and impartial 
reflection of any 
contemporary man, 
the common presence 
of every man-particularly 
of one who for some reason 
claims to be not just an 
ordinary, average man, but 
one of the "intelligentsia," 
in the genuine sense of the 
word-should consist of all 
four of these distinct and 
quite definite personalities, 
and each of them should be 
developed in a 
corresponding 
way so that 
during his 
responsible 
existence the 
manifestations 
of these separate 
parts will harmonize 
with one another.

To illustrate more clearly 
the diversity of origin and 
nature of the personalities 
manifested in the general 
organization of a man, 
and also to underline 
the difference between 
the "I" that should be 
in the common presence 
of a "man without quotation 
marks," that is, a real man, 
and the "pseudo I" that people 
today mistake for it, one can 
very well make use of an 
analogy which, though worn 
threadbare by "spiritualists," 
"occultists," "theosophists," 
and other contemporary specialists 
in "catching fish in muddy waters," 
with their prattle about the "astral 
body," the "mental body," and other 
such bodies that are supposed to 
exist in man, can nevertheless 
throw light on the question we 
are now considering.

A man as a whole, with all 
his distinct and separately 
functioning localizations, 
that is to say, his independently 
formed and educated "personalities," 
is almost exactly comparable to that 
equipage for transporting a passenger 
which consists of a carriage, a horse, 
and a coachman.

It must be remarked, to begin 
with, that the difference between 
a real man and a pseudo man, that 
is, between a man who has his own 
"I" and one who has not, is 
indicated in this analogy by 
the passenger sitting in the 
carriage. In the first case, 
that of the real man, the 
passenger is the owner of 
the carriage, and in the 
second case, he is merely 
the first chance passer-by 
who, like the fare in a 
"hackney carriage," is 
continually changing.

The body of a man, with 
all its motor-reflex manifestations, 
corresponds simply to the carriage 
itself, all the functionings and 
manifestations of feeling of a 
man correspond to the horse 
harnessed to the carriage 
and drawing it, the 
coachman sitting on 
the box and directing 
the horse corresponds 
to what in a man people 
usually call "consciousness" 
or "thought", and finally, the 
passenger sitting in the carriage 
and giving orders to the coachman 
is what is called "I."

The fundamental evil among 
contemporary people is that, 
owing to the rooted and widespread 
abnormal methods of education of 
the rising generation, this 
fourth personality, which 
should be present in 
everybody on reaching 
responsible age, is 
entirely lacking in 
them, and almost all 
of them consist only 
of three of the enumerated 
parts, which, moreover, are 
formed arbitrarily of themselves 
and anyhow. In other words, almost 
every contemporary man of 
responsible age consists 
of neither more nor less 
than a "hackney carriage," 
and what is more, a broken-
down carriage that has long 
ago seen its day, a crock of 
a horse, and on the box, a 
tatterdemalion, half-asleep, 
half-drunk coachman, whose 
time designated by Mother 
Nature for self-perfection 
passes in fantastic daydreams 
while he waits on a corner for 
any old chance passenger. The 
first one who happens along 
hires him and dismisses him 
just as he pleases, and not 
only him but also all the 
parts subordinate to him.

Pursuing this analogy between 
a typical contemporary man with 
his thoughts, feelings, and body, 
and a hackney carriage with its 
horse and coachman, we can 
clearly see that in each of 
the parts composing these two 
organizations there must have 
been formed and must exist its 
own separate needs, habits, 
tastes, and so on, proper 
to it alone because, 
according to the 
different nature 
of their origin 
and the diverse 
conditions of their 
formation, and also 
the varying possibilities 
put into them, there must 
inevitably have been formed 
in each of these parts its 
own psyche, its own 
notions, its own 
subjective supports, 
its own viewpoints, 
and so on.

The whole sum of the 
manifestations of human 
thought, with all the 
inherencies proper to 
its functioning and 
with all its specific 
characteristics, corresponds 
in almost every respect to the 
essence and manifestations of 
a typical hired coachman.

Like all hired coachmen in 
general, he is a certain type 
called "cabby." He is not entirely 
illiterate because, owing to the 
laws existing in his country for 
the "general compulsory teaching" 
of the three Rs, he was obliged 
in his childhood to put in an 
occasional appearance at what 
is called the "parish school."

Although he himself is a 
country boy and has remained 
as ignorant as his fellow rustics, 
yet rubbing shoulders, thanks to 
his profession, with people of
various positions and education 
and picking up from them, a bit 
here and a bit there, a lot of 
expressions for various 
notions, he has now 
come to look down
with contempt upon 
everything smacking 
of the country, indignantly
dismissing it all as "ignorance."

In short, this is a 
type to whom one could 
apply perfectly the adage:

"Too good for the crows, 
but the peacocks won't 
have him."

He considers himself competent 
even in questions of religion, 
politics, and sociology, with 
his equals he likes to argue, 
those whom he regards as his
inferiors he likes to teach, 
with his superiors he is a 
servile flatterer, he stands
before them, as is said, "cap 
in hand."

One of his greatest weaknesses 
is dangling after the neighborhood 
cooks and housemaids, but best of 
all he likes to put away a good 
square meal and to gulp down 
another glass or two, and 
then, fully satiated, 
drowsily to daydream.

To gratify these weaknesses 
of his he regularly steals 
part of the money his 
employer gives him to 
buy fodder for the 
horse.

Like every "cabby" he 
works only "under the 
lash," and if occasionally 
he does a job without being 
made to, it is always in the 
hope of a tip.

The desire for tips has 
gradually taught him to 
detect certain weaknesses
in the people he deals with 
and to take advantage of them, 
he has automatically learned to 
be cunning, to flatter, "to 
stroke people the right
way," as they say, and 
in general, to lie.

On every convenient occasion 
when he has a free moment, he 
slips into a saloon or a bar 
where, over a glass of beer, 
he daydreams for hours at a 
time, or talks with a type 
like himself, or just 
reads the paper.

He tries to look imposing, 
wears a beard, and if he 
is thin, pads himself 
out to appear more 
important.

As regards the feeling-
localization in a man, the 
totality of its manifestations 
and the whole system of its 
functioning correspond 
perfectly to the horse 
of the "hackney 
carriage" in 
our analogy.

Incidentally, this comparison 
of the horse with the composition 
of human feeling will help to show 
particularly clearly the error and 
one-sidedness of the contemporary 
education inflicted on the rising 
generation.

The horse, owing to the negligence 
of those around it during its early 
years, and to its constant solitude, 
is as if locked up within itself, 
in other words, its "inner life" 
is driven inside and for 
external manifestations 
it has nothing but 
inertia.

Thanks to the abnormal 
conditions around it, the 
horse has never received
any special education 
but has been molded 
solely under the 
influence of
constant 
thrashings 
and vile abuse.

It has always been kept 
tied up, and for food, 
instead of oats and hay 
it has only been given 
straw, which is 
utterly worthless 
for its real needs.

Never having seen in any 
of the manifestations toward 
it the least love or friendliness, 
the horse is now ready to surrender 
itself completely to anybody
who gives it the slightest 
caress.

In consequence of all this, 
the inclinations of the horse, 
thus deprived of all interests 
and aspirations, must inevitably 
concentrate on food, drink, and 
the automatic yearning for the 
opposite sex, hence it 
invariably veers in the 
direction where it can get 
any of these and if, for example, 
it catches sight of a place where 
even once or twice it gratified 
one of these needs, it waits 
for the chance to run off in 
that direction.

It must be added that 
although the coachman 
has a very feeble 
understanding of 
his duties, he can 
nevertheless, even 
though only a little, 
think logically, and, 
remembering tomorrow, 
he does occasionally-
either from the fear of 
losing his job or the 
desire of receiving a 
reward-show an 
interest in doing 
something or other 
for his employer 
without being 
forced to. But 
the horse, in the 
absence of a special 
education adapted to 
its nature, has not 
received at the proper 
time any data at all for 
manifesting the aspirations 
requisite for responsible 
existence, and of course 
it fails to understand- 
indeed it cannot be 
expected to 
understand-
why it should 
do anything. It 
therefore carries 
out its obligations 
with complete indifference 
and only from fear of 
further beatings.

As for the carriage, which 
in our analogy stands for 
the body considered 
separately from the 
other independently 
formed parts of the 
common presence of a 
man, its situation is 
even worse.

This carriage, like most 
other carriages, is made 
out of various materials 
and, furthermore, is of a 
very complicated construction.

It was designed, as 
is evident to any sane-
thinking man, to carry 
all kinds of loads, 
and not for the 
purpose for which 
it is used by 
contemporary 
people, that 
is, only to 
carry passengers.

The chief cause of the many 
misunderstandings connected 
with it springs from the fact 
that those who invented the 
system of this carriage 
intended it for travel 
on byroads, and therefore 
certain inner details of 
its general construction 
were designed with this 
in view.

For example, the principle of 
its greasing, which is one of 
the chief needs of an equipage 
made of such different materials, 
was so devised that the grease 
should spread over all the 
metal parts from the jolting 
inevitable on such roads, 
whereas now, this carriage, 
designed for traveling on 
byroads, is usually 
stationed on a rack 
in the city and travels 
on smooth, level, paved 
streets.

In the absence of any 
shocks whatsoever while 
rolling along such roads, 
the greasing of all its parts 
does not take place uniformly, 
and consequently some of them 
are bound to rust and cease to 
perform the functions intended 
for them.

A carriage goes easily, as a 
rule, if its moving parts are 
properly greased. With too little 
grease, these parts get overheated 
and finally red-hot, and thus the 
other parts get spoiled, however, 
if there is too much grease on 
some part, the general 
functioning of the 
carriage is impaired, 
and in either case it 
becomes more difficult 
for the horse to pull it.

The contemporary coachman, 
our cabby, has no inkling 
of the need for greasing 
the carriage, and even if 
he does grease it, he does 
so without proper knowledge, 
only on hearsay, blindly 
following the directions 
of the first comer.

So, when this carriage, now 
more or less adapted for travel 
on smooth roads, has for some 
reason or other to go along a 
byroad, something always 
happens to it either a 
nut gives way, or a bolt 
gets bent, or something or 
other gets loose, and so these 
expeditions rarely end without 
more or less considerable 
repairs.

In any case, it has become 
more and more risky to use 
this carriage for its intended 
purpose. And once repairs are 
begun, you have to take the 
carriage all to pieces, 
examine all its parts 
one by one and, as is 
always done in such cases, 
"kerosene" them, clean them, 
and then put them together 
again, and frequently it 
becomes obvious that you 
have to change a part 
immediately and without 
fail. This is all very 
well if the part 
happens to be 
inexpensive, but 
it may turn out that 
the repair is more costly 
than a new carriage.

And so, all that has been 
said about the separate parts 
of that vehicle which, taken 
as a whole, constitutes a 
"hackney carriage" is 
fully applicable to the 
general organization of 
the common presence of 
a man.

In view of the lack 
among contemporary people 
of any knowledge or ability 
to prepare the rising 
generation for 
responsible 
existence in 
an appropriate 
way, by educating
all the separate parts 
composing their common 
presence, every person 
of today is a confused 
and extremely ludicrous 
"something" which, again 
using our analogy, presents 
the following picture.

A carriage of the latest 
model, just out of the 
factory, varnished by 
genuine German craftsmen 
from the town of Barmen, 
and harnessed to the 
kind of horse which 
in the region of 
Transcaucasia is 
called a "dglozidzi." 
"Dzi" is a horse, "dgloz" 
was the name of a certain 
Armenian expert in the art 
of buying and skinning 
utterly worthless 
horses.

On the box of this stylish 
carriage sits an unshaven, 
unkempt, sleepy coachman, 
dressed in a shabby frock 
coat, which he has retrieved 
from the rubbish bin where it 
had been thrown out as useless 
by Maggie, the kitchenmaid. On 
his head reposes a brand-new top 
hat, an exact replica of 
Rockefeller's, and in his 
buttonhole is displayed a 
giant chrysanthemum.

Contemporary man inevitably 
presents such a ludicrous 
picture, because from the 
day of his arising these 
three parts formed in him-
which though of diverse origin 
and having properties of diverse 
quality should nevertheless, for 
pursuing a single aim during his 
responsible existence, represent 
together his "entire whole"-begin, 
so to say, to "live" and to become 
fixed in their specific 
manifestations separately 
from one another, never 
having been trained to 
give the required 
automatic reciprocal 
support and help or 
to understand
one another even 
approximately. Thus 
later, when there is 
a need for concerted 
manifestations, these 
concerted manifestations 
do not appear.

To be sure, thanks to 
what is called the "system 
of education of the rising 
generation," completely fixed 
at the present time in the life 
of man, and which consists simply 
and solely in drumming into the 
pupils, by means of constant 
repetition to the point of 
stupefaction, numerous 
almost empty words and 
expressions, and in 
training them to 
recognize merely 
by the difference 
in their sounds the 
reality these words 
and expressions are 
supposed to signify, 
the coachman is still 
able to explain after
a fashion the various 
desires he feels (though 
only to types like himself), 
and he is sometimes even able, 
at least approximately, to 
understand others.

This coachman-cabby of 
ours, gossiping with other 
coachmen while waiting for 
a fare, and sometimes, as 
is said, "flirting" in the 
doorways with
the local maids, 
even picks up 
various forms 
of what is called 
"civility."

In accordance with the 
external conditions of 
the life of coachmen in
general, he also gradually 
automatizes himself to 
distinguish one street 
from another and, for 
instance, to calculate 
how, when a street is 
closed for repairs,
to get to the required 
destination from another 
direction.

But as for the horse, 
even though the maleficent 
contemporary invention called 
"education" does not extend to 
its formation, and in consequence 
its inherited possibilities are 
not atrophied, yet because of 
the fact that it has been
formed under the abnormal 
conditions of the 
established process 
of ordinary existence, 
and that it grows up 
ignored by everybody, 
like an orphan, and
moreover an ill-treated 
orphan, it neither acquires 
anything corresponding to the 
psyche of the coachman nor 
learns anything of what he 
knows, and hence it 
remains ignorant of 
the forms of 
reciprocal 
relationship 
which have become
habitual for the coachman, 
and no contact is made between 
them for understanding each other.

It may happen, however, that 
in its locked-in life the horse 
comes to learn some form of 
relationship with the 
coachman and even, 
perhaps, is not
unfamiliar with 
some sort of "language", 
but the trouble is that 
the coachman
does not know 
this or even 
suspect that 
such a thing 
is possible.
Apart from the 
fact that, in these 
abnormal conditions, 
no data have been formed 
between the horse and the 
coachman to allow them to 
understand each other 
automatically, even a 
little, there are many 
other outer causes, 
independent of them, 
which deprive them of 
the possibility of 
fulfilling together 
that single purpose 
for which they were 
both destined.

Just as the separate 
independent parts of 
a "hackney carriage" 
are connected, namely, 
the carriage to the 
horse by the shafts 
and the horse to the 
coachman by the reins, 
so also are the separate 
parts of the general organization 
of a man connected with each other: 
the body is connected to the 
feeling-organization by the 
blood, and the feeling-
organization with that 
of the thought or 
consciousness by 
what is called 
"hanbledzoïn," 
namely, by that 
substance which 
arises in the common 
presence of a man from 
all intentionally made 
being-efforts.

The deplorable system of 
education existing at the 
present time has led to the 
coachman's ceasing to have 
any effect whatever on his 
horse, at best he can 
arouse in its 
consciousness 
by means of the 
reins just three 
ideas-right, left, 
and stop.

Strictly speaking, he cannot 
always do even this, because 
the reins are generally made 
of materials that react to 
atmospheric phenomena for 
example, in a pouring rain 
they swell and lengthen, 
and in heat, the 
contrary, thus 
having a varying 
effect upon the 
horse's automatized 
sensitivity of perception.

The same thing proceeds in 
the general organization of 
the ordinary man whenever 
from some impression or 
other the "density and 
tempo of the hanbledzoïn" 
change in him so that his 
thinking loses all 
possibility of 
affecting his 
feeling-organization.

And so, to sum up everything 
that has been said, we must 
willy-nilly acknowledge 
that every man should 
strive to have his own 
"I," otherwise he will 
never represent anything
more than a "hackney carriage" 
which any passing fare can sit 
in and dispose of just as he 
pleases.

Here it will not be 
superfluous to point 
out that the Institute 
for the Harmonious Development 
of Man has among its fundamental 
tasks the aim, on the one hand, 
of educating in its pupils 
each of the independent 
personalities I spoke of, 
first separately and then 
in their reciprocal 
relationships, 
according to the 
needs of their 
subjective life 
in the future, 
and on the other 
hand, of begetting 
and fostering in each 
of its pupils what every 
bearer of the name of "man 
without quotation marks" 
should have-his own 
"I."

For a more exact, and 
so to speak scientific, 
definition of the difference
between a real man, that is, 
a man as he ought to be, 
and a "man in quotation
marks," such as almost 
all contemporary people 
have become, it is 
appropriate to 
quote here what 
was said about 
this by Gurdjieff 
himself in one of 
his lectures.

What he said was this:

"For the definition of man, 
according to our point of view, 
no contemporary knowledge, whether 
anatomical, physiological, or 
psychological, can help us, 
since each of the 
characteristics 
it describes is 
inherent to one 
degree or another 
in every man and 
applies equally 
to all, and 
consequently 
this knowledge 
does not enable 
us to determine 
the exact difference 
between people that 
we wish to establish.

"The measure of this 
difference can only be 
formulated in the 
following terms:

"'Man is a being who can 
'do,' and 'to do' means to 
act consciously and by one's 
own initiative.

"And indeed every more or 
less sane-thinking man, 
capable of being at all
impartial, must admit 
that never before has 
there been, nor could 
there be, a fuller or 
more exhaustive 
definition.

"Suppose that we provisionally 
accept this definition, the 
question inevitably arises 
can a man who is a product 
of contemporary education 
and civilization do anything 
at all himself, consciously 
and by his own will?

"No . . . we answer at 
once to this question.

"And why not? . . .

"Simply because, as the 
Institute for the Harmonious 
Development of Man categorically 
affirms and demonstrates on the 
basis of its experiments,
everything without 
exception, from 
beginning to end, 
'does itself in
contemporary man, 
and there is nothing 
that a contemporary man 
himself does.

"In personal, family, and 
social life, in politics, 
science, art, philosophy,
and religion, in short, in 
everything entering into the 
process of the ordinary life 
of a contemporary man, 
everything from 
beginning to end 
does itself, and
not a single one 
of these 'victims 
of contemporary 
civilization' 
can 'do'
anything."

Gurdjieff