Geoffrey A. Farthing was born in England in December 1909; educated conventionally at two boarding schools; matriculated London University, but became apprenticed into engineering, attended night school at the Manchester College of Technology of which he became an Associate; served six years in the Army in the Royal Signals, leaving the service as Major.
He has lectured in many countries around the world and has held most positions in the Theosophical Society in England [Adyar], including a spell as General Secretary (1969-72).
He has written a number of theosophical books: Theosophy, What’s It All About?; When We Die; and Exploring the Great Beyond; and has given the prestigious Blavatsky Lecture at the Annual Convention of the English Theosophical Society on “Life, Death, and Dreams.” He served a term as a member of the Society’s General Council at Adyar, India, and was a member of the Executive Committee of the European Federation for a number of years.
The following is an interesting account from Farthing’s own records:
”As a boy, GAF was of a somewhat devout nature. He was brought up as an Anglican Christian, and even at an early age he felt a significance in Church services. He took his preparation for confirmation (at the age of sixteen) very seriously, believing implicitly in every word that his instructor in preparation for it uttered. In the event of the actual ceremony of confirmation he felt nothing but a great anticlimax. None of his great expectations were realized. This raised many doubts and questions as to what religion was really about. For a number of years afterwards he was consciously on a quest of discovery, enquiring from many people and reading many books to try to discover the facts of existence, the nature of the Cosmos, and particularly that of God and his relationship if any to such an entity.
His searches during a number of years yielded nothing of significance until, as a result of a seemingly chance meeting, he was sent some books. These were by Cyril Scott and comprised what is known as the ‘Initiate’ series. They told the story of a Master of the Wisdom in a western world setting, and of his impact on the people he met. This was both thought-provoking and inspiring. At the end of the last book was a bibliography with a note to the effect that the books could be obtained from the library of the Theosophical Society. Thereafter the quest had no bounds. Whole continents of knowledge became available for exploration. GAF then spent all the hours that he could make available from his formal studies to become an electrical engineer – at night, during weekends, and holidays – in reading and study. After a few years of this he began to think that he really knew something.
There is a saying in the Bible as follows: Knock and it shall be opened unto you, ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find. This seems to be a statement of law. In spite of all his readings GAF always felt that he was missing something of vital importance, but whatever that may have been was unformulated, a complete mystery. His passionate and prolonged seeking, however, was evidently making a demand. He was somehow or other asking and knocking in the right way, but of course of that he was ignorant at the time.
Then came a complete break in the whole process. In 1939 war broke out. Previously GAF had joined the Territorial Army (Volunteers) and at the outbreak of war was immediately called up for service. He was to serve five years in various capacities in military Communications. He had always had an interest in radio. As a result of this he spent much of his early time in the Forces teaching and training other people in telecommunications, and although he became Commanding officer of a special technical unit towards the end of the war, he never saw active service abroad.
The point of this diversion is that during the five years of army service his interest in matters ‘theosophical’ was totally suspended. It was as if the light had been switched off. He had no interest whatever in all the things that had up till then been so enthralling. However, with the end of hostilities in Europe his interest suddenly flared up and by an odd quirk of fortune he found himself in very comfortable circumstances with no serious duties, billeted comfortably in a nice house with a servant looking after his needs, so that he could and did spend many hours every day reading The Secret Doctrine. This lasted for one year.
He was then demobilized and returned to civilian life in Leeds where he joined the local Theosophical Lodge, having in the meantime become a member of the Theosophical Society [Adyar]. With his background of reading it was soon discovered by the Lodge members that he was knowledgeable enough to start giving lectures, and this he did almost as soon as he joined. One day, however, at a Lodge meeting he was in the audience and an old man came to give the evening talk. When the proceedings were over our author offered to take the speaker home in his car, a journey of some ten miles. During that short ride something happened. GAF said that he was going to give a lecture next Sunday: his passenger seemed interested and asked what he was going to talk about. Our author told him, and immediately the old man, without knowing what GAF proposed actually to say, said quite emphatically “You do not know what you are talking about.” This rather riled GAF who proceeded to say that he had spent many years learning his subject. The old man did not argue; he merely reiterated his words. This started a long association; GAF somehow felt that the old man did know what he was talking about and that it was something worth knowing. For two years he visited him in his very simple house—an old wooden army hut, dating from the First World War, perched on the side of a hill, overlooking a beautiful valley (Wharfedale in Yorkshire). Our author suffered many humiliations at the hands of the old man, who, to whatever GAF said, always came back with the remark, “You do not know what you are talking about,” and if GAF tried to justify himself, the old man would just say, “You are not listening,” and this he kept repeating. Conversation was extremely difficult. “You do not know what you are talking about” and “You are not listening” was reiterated over and over again.
Quite why GAF persisted in his visits he never really knew, except that the old man’s conversation was truly inspiring and uttered in beautiful and strong language. Unbeknown to him, however, a process was underway which culminated in a climax. There is no proper way of describing what happened, except that it was an initiatory experience. It seemed to GAF one day that he really heard what was being said. This was more a psychic than a physical experience, and suddenly consciousness burst free from the limitations of the thinking mind, stuffed with book learning and a lot of life experience, all interpreted in the light of ‘ideas.’ Up till then GAF had certainly not really known what he was talking about. He had memorized and imagined much. For example, he had ideas aplenty about God but did not know God. His consciousness now becoming freed from all the mental baggage that it had been carrying around for so long, which in fact had become very heavy, though precious, experienced a relief and joy, almost indescribable. It seemed to him that up to that moment he had been as a young sea-gull nearly fully fledged but perched on a ledge of rock on a high cliff above a turmoil of surf breaking on rocks way down below him. The old man’s presence and forcefulness was as if he was exerting some pressure on the young bird to dislodge him from the shelf, and this eventually happened. The young bird, however, instead of falling to destruction on the rocks and into the surf beneath, found that he had a pair of wings that securely sustained him in a totally new environment. He just soared into the vast empyrean wherein he found himself alone but self-sufficient. Thereafter the old man never again said, “You do not know what you are talking about.”
After this ‘liberation’ incident GAF, who up to then had always enthusiastically kept up his studies and, when he had the chance, imparted what he was discovering, now found himself inseparable, so-to-speak, from his subject, from what had up till then been only a matter of interest and remembered information. Now in some way it was himself, his life, his vision of the nature and processes of Cosmos now related to himself. What he was he did not know; it had no definition as a man operating normally in his personality has. He now feels himself to be ‘something,’ but what he cannot say. There seems to be no answer to this question and in any case it is quite irrelevant because the Universe just is. Consciousness is perhaps the only meaningful word.”
From his correspondence
with Geoffrey Farthing,
Carlos Cardoso Aveline (in Brazil)
has sent the following questions and answers:
QUESTION ONE — When and where were you born?
FARTHING -- I was born in a place called Heaton Mersey near
Manchester in Lancashire, England, on 10th December 1909. The place
was a small community clustered round a dye-works. In those days
Lancashire supplied the best part of the world with cotton goods. My
father used to say that the mills there could satisfy the U.K. home
demand working a few hours on Saturday morning. All the rest was
exported. It was a period of expansion and prosperity just prior to
the outbreak of the 1st World War. I remember that event. We were on
holiday in a place called St Anne’s-on-Sea and I had been sent at
breakfast-time to the local newsagent to get the daily papers. I
then had a few copper coins to pay for them. I handed the man the
money and I can remember him saying, ”When you go home tell your
father that war has been declared.” That did not mean much to me
then but I know it caused a good deal of excitement at home. Little
did we know what we were in for. Apart from the plethora of stories
about the 1st World War that there are, our family was one of the
tragic ones. My mother lost all of her 7 brothers: 5 of them were
killed outright, 2 of them were gassed and died later.
I went to a local Nursery School. One day sitting in the classroom
we heard a droning noise and the teacher said, ”That’s an
aeroplane”, and we all went outside to see this thing in the sky. I
do not remember the date of that but it was somewhere between 1914
and 1916. Only the well-to-do had motor cars then. We were fortunate
enough to have the use of one which belonged to my father’s company
(The General Electric Company of England). My next school was some
miles away; this involved a journey in a very rattly solid-tyred
autobus. Horses had mostly been superceded for public transport but
they were used still for commercial purposes, especially by
tradesmen for delivery purposes. The heavier horse-drawn vehicles
were replaced for a relatively short time by steam-powered ones.
These were superceded by petrol-driven lorries, vans, etc., soon
after the war.
We got our first telephone a few years after the war had started.
You had to wind a handle to call the exchange, where the operator
knew all the subscribers by name, or an any rate all the local ones.
I do not remember that there was such a thing as a telephone
directory. There was no radio (or wireless as it was then called).
Eventually at the age of about 10 I went to a boarding school at
Eastbourne where I was reasonably happy and enjoyed playing the team
games that were then the fashion such as cricket and rugby football.
After that, at the age of 13 or 14 I went to an English Public
School (very private and fee-paying) in Buckinghamshire. The school
was situated in the large house, virtually a palace, that had
belonged at one time to the Dukes of Buckingham, set in 500 acres of
beautiful parkland and gardens. I was indeed happy there. I passed
the requisite exams at an early age and thereafter entered what was
called the Upper School where one then enjoyed the use of a private
study together with one other student colleague. That was good fun
but of course I was far too young to be granted the privilege and
thereafter did nearly no work until I was 17. However, I certainly
enjoyed every minute of my time in that beautiful place.
One point of interest about my school life was that I was very
attracted to the Church services. These played a significant part in
my life. Another significant event was our preparation
for `Confirmation’ . This is when one is confirmed into the Anglican
Church. The ceremony is conducted by a Bishop; in this case it was
the Bishop of Oxford. The preparation took about a year, i.e. 3
terms at school, and they were conducted by my form Master who was
an ordained Parson - an elderly man whom everybody liked and who was
obviously very sincere in his religious beliefs. Some of this
brushed off onto us. We were given a terrific build-up about what
Confirmation meant: we were going to be admitted into the
companionship of Christ; we would be endowed with strength to combat
our sins and weaknesses; we would be in a fellowship of like-minded
people also dedicated to Christian service - in other words a close-
knit and holy fellowship.
On the day of Confirmation I was very excited. During the service I
could hardly contain myself until it came my turn to be blessed by
the Bishop. I can remember him moving along boy by boy from the
right until it came my turn, and then the laying-on of hands. I
waited expectantly for all the wonderful things we had been told
would happen. I waited in vain - nothing happened! I got up and
filed out with the other boys very dejected. Why had I been
rejected? Why had I not been admitted to this fellowship that we had
heard so much about? Why was I not endowed with strength? I asked
one of the other boys what had happened to him and he very mater-of-
fact replied, ”Nothing, what did you expect?” I could hardly believe
it. Was all that preparation we had been through a charade for
nothing? That was probably the beginning of my quest which led me
After leaving school I became an apprentice in a large electrical
engineering works near Manchester. At the same time I attended night
school to get some theoretical qualifications. The significance of
this experience from a theosophical point of view is that I made the
acquaintance of an Indian who was also apprenticed at the same works
and we used to have lunch together. The conversation got round to
religion fairly early on. He was a Brahmin and very well versed in
the Indian scriptures. I got another view altogether of religion
from him but was amazed when eventually he said that all the
wonderful things that he had told me about their scriptures he no
longer believed. He had become completely westernized; his views
were entirely dictated by scientific knowledge and thought. However,
he had opened my eyes to another point of view altogether and set me
TWO — When and where did you have the first clearly spiritual or theosophical
perceptions of life? How and what was your life before knowing the
FARTHING -- Now I can start answering your second question: where
did I first enter upon the theosophical quest? One night towards the
end of my apprenticeship, what my Indian friend had told me so upset
my Christian beliefs that I decided to go and see what the local
parson had to say. He was a very senior member of the Church, a
venerable Canon, who had recently conducted the marriage service for
my sister. We held the Canon in very high regard. One evening I
telephoned him and asked if I could come to see him. There was
obviously some urgency in my voice and he said, ”Well, I can fit you
in for 10 minutes but I have another appointment. Come as quickly as
you can.” I ran all the way there and arrived breathless at the
vicarage. He opened the door himself, showed me into his study, sat
me down and asked me what was the matter. I told him the story of
the Indian and his scriptures and beliefs (not the scientific ones)
and asked how Christianity as he saw it compared with the specific
things that the Indian had told me. These raised questions
concerning the nature of God, the idea of Jesus having died for us
(vicarious atonement), what happened after death, and so on. It soon
became quite obvious that the dear Canon had no real answers to
these questions. As I sat listening to him talk I came to a dreadful
decision, and that was unless God manifested himself in some
palpable way to me in the Canon’s study there and then, I would
renounce him. I would not believe any more that he existed. I waited
for some awful thing to happen – the floor to open and the earth to
swallow me up, or a thunderbolt to strike me dead – I waited and
waited and nothing happened. Then suddenly I was filled with an
uncontainable elation and had a great urge to get out of that study
as quickly as I could. I am afraid that I was a bit rude to the old
man but I made the excuse that he had said he had only a little time
and that I did not want to impose on him any longer. He got up and
showed me to the door although I do not think he had really finished
what he was saying. He must have been very surprised at my haste to
get out. I can still hear him saying as I parted from him, ”You
must have faith, my son”.
Outside the feeling of elation and happiness was amplified to a
greater and greater extent. It seemed to me that although I was
actually walking home, my feet were not touching the ground. It was
an incredible experience. From then on, right through till the 2nd
World War, I was consciously on a quest to discover TRUTH. This led
me through all sorts of highways and byways, and meetings with all
sorts of people. My stock question was, ”Have you a religion? ...
Tell me about it.”
THREE — When did you get in touch with the Theosophical Society? Your first
FARTHING -- At the end of the 1920’s when work was very scarce I
very fortunately got a job in London. There was then a severe
depression. A whole series of `coincidences’ eventually took me to
the Theosophical Society in London with its wonderful library. From
that I borrowed many books for a few years and began a longish
process of self-education in Theosophy. It got more and more
thrilling the more I knew about it.
One day my enthusiasm for my new-found subject got the better of me
and I invited an old school friend to come to the Theosophical
Society to hear a lecture given by a well-known theosophical lady
on ”The Masters”. This was in Besant Hall at the back of 50
Gloucester Place. It was the occasion of an Easter Convention which
the Society at that time held regularly. The speaker was oddly
dressed in a green gown with yellow lightning flashes across it and
large triangular-shaped sleeves which she theatrically showed off at
every opportunity. It was ludicrous and my friend and I got the
giggles. We tried to suppress our laughter but we really could not.
Eventually an usher came up to us and said that even if we did not
want to listen to the lecture, others did, and would we mind going
out. That was my first acquaintance with the Theosophical Society.
Thereafter I thought nothing would induce me to join!
Soon after that the war broke out and I joined the army. Then again
an interesting thing happened. All my exuberant interest in
Theosophy switched off immediately like turning off a light and I
took no more interest in the subject until 5 years later when the
war finished. I was then up in Scotland. One day I walked down a
street in Edinburgh where, in a bookshop window, I saw a book by
Paul Brunton called ”A Search in Secret Egypt”. I bought it and
slowly as I read all my enthusiasms were rekindled. I started on my
quest again in earnest. I got more books out of the theosophical
library including ”The Secret Doctrine”, which did not make much
sense to me at that time, and many others nearly all by Annie Besant
or Leadbeater. Even so, they were thrilling. These people seemed to
know what they were talking about and had a great facility for
expressing their ideas. I studied nothing else for two or three
years and became really familiar with the theosophical system from
that pint of view.
Then an odd thing happened. I had met John Coats, then General
Secretary of the Society in England. One night he invited me to
dinner and one of his brothers was present. This brother voiced the
views of the family about John having joined the Theosophical
Society and given up a directorship of their family company, J & P
Coats. This had upset his father very much and the brothers resented
his leaving the firm. For all this Theosophy and the Theosophical
Society were to blame. The brother spent the best part of the dinner
time trying to tell John what a mistake he had made, that there was
nothing in this superstitious nonsense called Theosophy and that the
Society was certainly not worth the sacrifices he had made for it.
For some amazing reason I felt I must defend the Society. I
proceeded to tell the brother that he knew nothing about Theosophy
and that if he had done he could not possibly speak as he had. As I
was saying these things my whole attitude towards the Society
changed completely. I had espoused its cause; I had become
sympathetic to it. Somehow or another I felt that I belonged to it
and that from here on I must not only join but support it and work
for it. This was a very strong feeling.
Within the next day or so I got in touch with John and told him of
this `conversion’ and asked to become a member, which I eventually
did. In about 1948 when the war was over I was demobilized from the
army. My job, which had been kept for me, was in Yorkshire. There I
joined the Leeds Lodge and met up with other older, senior and well-
versed theosophists before whom I felt a very inadequate beginner.
One night at the Lodge an old man came to lecture and he is the one
whom I talk about in the `Notes on the Author’ given in the
beginning of ”Deity, Cosmos and Man” [ pp. XXI-XXII].
From then on my quest on the theosophical journey is outlined until
the climax mentioned in that account occurred. Thereafter I have met
a number of interesting people and have had a lot of experiences. It
would take far to long to recount them.
However, my foot was then firmly planted on the theosophical road
and the process of self-education has gone on right up to the
An interesting thing is that, whereas I have done much writing and
other things for the theosophical cause, everything I have written
and everything I have done has been spontaneous. There has not been
any previous planning or clear object in view. I have just done what
came to be done. This has entailed a considerable amount of work
over a very long time.
FOUR — Your profession and family?
FARTHING -- I have told you of my profession, Electrical Engineer,
working nearly all my life with the nationalized industry in
Yorkshire. I was in charge of about 100 shops, service centres as
they were called, of contracting (wiring factories, shops and
homes), advertising shows and distribution, appliance testing,
repair and reconditioning, etc.
None of this had any relation to Theosophy. I am unmarried, had no
family. My father did not know about Theosophy at all. He was a
Freemason. My mother called it ”a lot of silly nonsense”. Why could
I not be like other men?
Geoffrey A. Farthing.
[Answers dated and signed in 22nd November 2000.]
FIVE — How did you discover the enormous distance in occult quality between
the original exposition of Theosophy (HPB-Masters) and its second
version, by C.W. Leadbeater and Annie Besant? Did you have, then, a
sense of having lost time?
FARTHING -- My discovery of the differences came about from John
Coats having given me a copy of The Mahatma Letters, with their
detailed account of what happens after death. This account does not
reconcile with what is given in the Leadbeater/Besant literature.
One of the major differences is the matter of the Etheric Double. I
could simply not reconcile the two teachings on that score. At first
I felt that I was not understanding either of them properly and that
the limitation was mine. I could not believe that well-informed and
gifted people like Leadbeater and Besant had `got it wrong’. Somehow
or another the fault lay in me and I wrestled over this problem for
perhaps 2 years. During this time I studied in detail the
classification of man’s principles from both points of view (e.g.
Blavatsky in The Key) and tried hard to reconcile them, but they are
not reconcilable. Eventually of course this led to my publishing the
booklet ”The Etheric Double?”
Another point of great difficulty was the Masters’ views on religion
and the close association of the Liberal Catholic church with the
Theosophical Society. This again is irreconcilable.
As to my reactions on making these discoveries, I had been so long
in the process that I was not surprised or dismayed but I do
remember having to make a decision as to whether from then on I was
going to accept the Masters as teachers or the Leadbeater/Besant
partnership. In the light of all the evidence obviously it had to be
the Masters and H.P.B., and this I did. Having made that decision
everything else seemed to fall into place. All the problems and
difficulties were eradicated.
SIX — What is the impact and influence of institutions like Liberal
Catholic Church and Masonry over the theosophical movement as
originally conceived by the Mahatmas and H.P.B.?
FARTHING -- I was never attracted to Masonry but under the
influence of John Coats I could have become very interested in the
Church. I do not know how I was saved from this but my `mentor’ as
described in ”Deity, Cosmos and Man” indicated very clearly to me
that such institutions, whilst they made one feel comfortable as a
member of a brotherhood or other worthy group, they did nothing
whatever to further one’s real spiritual growth. That was entirely a
matter for one’s self. Having genuinely discovered that my
attraction to the Church disappeared completely.
I was President of the T.S. in England from 1969 to 1972. During
this time I let it be known quite openly that I was a Master/H.P.B.
man; this was not acceptable to the generality of members. There was
a strong Church and Masonic faction in the Society, the members of
which eventually got together and voted me out of office. This was a
considerable blow to me as I had given up my job - quite a lucrative
one and of some influence - to come and work for the Society. Being
voted out was a hurtful experience but in a way it was a blessing. I
was free of all other duties and could get on with my study and my
SEVEN — Along the 20th century, especially after the decade of the 20s,
HPB/Masters literature slowly regained room. ”The Collected Writings
of H.P.B.” took decades to appear in 14 volumes plus an index
volume. The ”Mahatma Letters to A.P.Sinnett” and the ”Letters From
the Masters of the Wisdom” got translated to several languages and
attracted more and more attention among the students. Now there are
some 20 biographies of H.P.B. And yet it seems to be far from
enough. What else should be done?
FARTHING -- Concerning the resuscitation of interest in the
Master/H.P.B. literature, I feel that this has been very slow and
hardly perceptible in the Adyar Society. I do not think we need any
more literature at this time, whether it be biographies on H.P.B. or
anything else. What we have to do is to try to encourage people to
read what we already have.
About the future of the T.S., I do not have a crystal ball. My
feeling is that, if the Adyar Society persists in its present
strategies, with its ignorance of the Masters/H.P. B. literature and
the idolizing of Krishnamurti, it will just fade out. It does not
really stand for anything. What life there is in the other
theosophical movements I do not really know, except that there are
obviously only a few very earnest students. Hopefully these can get
together in my Association and form a cadre of true workers for the
cause, knowing what they are doing.
Concerning freedom of thought, in my view this has been hopelessly
distorted. As put over in the 1920’s it was quite obviously an
expedient to allow anybody’s opinion, well-informed or otherwise, to
be regarded as Theosophy. This was a fatal mistake. In point of fact
no one can interfere with anybody else’s thought. What they can do
is to try to impose a dogma, i.e. a compulsory belief, and to some
extent the Leadbeater/Besant leadership succeeded in doing that in
that they got the Liberal Catholic Church and Masonry accepted as
Theosophy, and later of course Krishnamurti as a world teacher. All
this had nothing to do with freedom of thought proper and in my view
much of the later views about the Masters is superstition.
Of course I agree that anybody should be able to read any literature
they like, by whatever author it may be. I see it as vitally
important that people should be free in every respect. We can only
develop healthily in an atmosphere of complete freedom.
EIGHT — Do you believe that putting on an equal level, under the item of
liberty of thought, the real teaching and a teaching distorted by
fancies, induces the next generations of students to unnecessarily
lose an important amount of time in their lives, before knowing
what’s true and what is false?
FARTHING -- Here again I think people must make up their own minds.
The big difficulty is that people do not read the original
literature and have therefore no true yardstick to help them decide
the quality of whatever it is they are reading. This becomes a
difficult matter especially when some of the 2nd generation
literature purports to have come from the Masters. How are we going
to know whether or not it did unless we are familiar with the
Masters’ scheme of things, their style of writing, etc. Here again
we have to be careful because I do believe that people with the
proper faculties working can be inspired by true spiritual entities.
Surely the criterion must be the quality of what is uttered. For
example, any reversion to an idea of God, particularly in the
anthropomorphic sense, would indicate that whoever is writing has
not got a true vision. Similarly a lot of nonsense is put out about
the after-death states and ideas of forgiveness of sins.
NINE — Some people think that HPB literature, written in the 19th century,
is ”outdated”. The same people use to study other texts which are
thousands of years old. Why is HPB not ”outdated”? Could the eternal
FARTHING -- It is a view of no substance at all and could only be
uttered by anyone who had not read the classical literature. The
literary idiom might be outdated but what is said is eternal Truth,
unchanging, and in our Manvantara unchangeable. People use the
words `up-to-date’ nowadays in relation to fashions. Such a word
could not possibly be applied to Theosophy with its ”eternal
TEN — What’s your view of the work of the HPB-Masters students ?
FARTHING -- My view is that, with modern communication, we might
form a body of really energetic enthusiastic people who can act
as `radiation points’ in the parts of the world in which they happen
to be situated. At this time I am very concerned to revivify an
interest in the original teachings. For example, I had hoped that my
Trilogy would have given people an idea of what was entailed in the
writing of ”Isis” and ”The Secret Doctrine”. Most members of the
theosophical movement have no idea of what was demanded of H.P.B. or
of the close cooperation that she then enjoyed with the Masters.
Further, I do not think that many people have any idea of what a
Master of the Wisdom is. The idea of a Master has become too
hackneyed through movements like ”I Am”, and the claims of other
individuals to be channelling Masters’ messages. It is quite obvious
that they are not, but the channellers have not studied the real
Masters’ literature and therefore do not have a proper background
against which to talk.
Another area of diversion is in the pronouncements of the psychics,
even of the stature of Rudolph Steiner. He did good work in
establishing his schools, etc., and much of what he said about the
germination of seeds is verified by experience but the background
framework of knowledge that he adopted was not that of the Masters.
Geoffrey A. Farthing.
(Answers dated and signed in 22nd November 2000)