In Search of the Miraculous

experiment, generally buying them when they are children from parents who gladly

sell them because they afterwards profit from it. But of course the man himself does

not know or understand what he is doing or how it is done."

This explanation interested me very much because I had never before heard or read

an explanation quite like this. In all the attempts to explain "fakirs' miracles" that I had come across, whether the "miracles" were explained as tricks or otherwise, it was always assumed that the performer knew what he was doing and how he did it, and

that, if he did not speak of it, it was because he did not want to or was afraid. In the

present instance the position was quite different. G.'s explanation seemed to me not

only probable but, I dare say, the only one possible. The fakir himself did not know

how he worked his "miracle," and, of course, could not have explained it.

On another occasion we were talking of Buddhism in Ceylon. I expressed the

opinion that Buddhists must have magic, the existence of which they do not

acknowledge, and the possibility of which is denied in official Buddhism. Entirely

without connection with this remark, and while, I think, I was showing my

photographs to G., I spoke about a small shrine in a private house in Colombo in

which there was, as usual, a statue of Buddha, and at the foot of the Buddha a small,

bell-shaped ivory dagoba, that is, a small carved replica of a dagoba, hollow inside.

They opened this in my presence and showed me something inside it

that was regarded as a relic—a small round ball the size of a large shot, carved, as I

thought, out of ivory or mother-of-pearl.

G. listened to me attentively.

"Did they not explain to you what this ball meant?" he asked.

"They told me it was a piece of bone of one of Buddha's disciples; that it was of

very great antiquity and holiness."

"It is so and it is not so," said G. "The man who showed it to you either did not know or did not want to say. It was not a piece of bone but a particular bone

formation which some people get round the neck in the form of a necklace as a result

of special exercises. Have you heard the expression 'Buddha's necklace'?"

"Yes," I said, "but this means something quite different. The chain of Buddha's reincarnation is called 'Buddha's necklace.'"

"Yes," said G., "that is one meaning of the expression, but I am speaking of another meaning. This necklace of bones which encircles the neck beneath the skin is directly

connected with what is called the 'astral body.' The 'astral body' is, so to speak,

attached to it, or, to be more accurate, this 'necklace' connects the physical body to the astral. Now if the 'astral body' continues to live after the death of the physical body,

the person possessing a bone of this 'necklace' can always communicate with the

'astral body' of the dead man. This is magic. But they never speak of it openly. You

are right about their having magic and this is an instance of it. It does not follow, of

course, that the bone you saw was a real one. You will find these bones in almost

every house; but I am telling you of the belief which lies at the bottom of this

custom."

And again I had to admit that I had never before met with such an explanation.

G. drew a small sketch for me showing the position of the small bones under the

skin; they went in a semicircle round the back of the neck, beginning a little in front

of the ears.

This sketch at once reminded me of an ordinary diagrammatic representation of the

lymphatic glands in the neck, such as can be seen in anatomical charts. But I could

learn nothing else about it.

Chapter Four

G'S LECTURES led to many talks in our groups. There was still a good deal that was not clear to me, but , many things had become connected and one thing often quite

unexpectedly explained another which seemed to have no connection with it whatever.

Certain parts of the system had already begun vaguely to take shape, like figures or a

landscape which gradually appears in the developing of a photographic plate, but many

places still remained blank and incomplete. At the same time many things were

contrary to what I expected. Only I tried not to come to conclusions but wait. Often one

new word that I had not heard before altered the whole picture and I was obliged to

rebuild for myself everything I had built up before. I realized very clearly that a great deal of time must pass before I could tell myself that I could outline the whole system

correctly. And it was very strange for me to hear how people, after having come to us

for one lecture, at once understood what we were talking about, explained it to others, and had completely settled and definite opinions about us. I must confess that, at such

times, I often recalled my own first meeting with G. and the evening with the Moscow

group. I also, at that time, had been very near passing a ready judgment on G. and his

pupils. But something had stopped me then. And now, when I had begun to realize