with the simple parallelogram of the cloth-covered table, and the severe architecture of the room.  The law of Trinity is exemplified in the three windows, and in the subdivision of the twelve figures of the disciples into four groups of three figures each.  The law of Consonance appears in the repetition of the horizontal lines of the table in the ceiling above; and in the central triangle before referred to, continued and echoed, as it were, in the triangular supports of the table visible underneath the cloth.  The law of Diversity in Monotony is illustrated in the varying disposition of the heads of the figures in the four groups of three; the law of Balance in the essential symmetry of the entire composition; the law of Rhythmic Change in the diminishing of the wall and ceiling spaces; and the law of Radiation in the convergence of all the perspective lines to a single significant point.

To illustrate further the universality of these laws, consider now their application to a single work of architecture:  the Taj Mahal, one of the most beautiful buildings of the world (Illustration 36).  It is a unit, but twofold, for it consists of a curved part and an angular part, roughly figured as an inverted cup upon a cube; each of these (seen in parallel perspective, at the end of the principal vista) is threefold, for there are two sides and a central parallelogram, and two lesser domes flank the great dome.  The composition is rich in consonances, for the side arches echo the central one, the subordinate domes the great dome, and the lanterns of the outstanding minarets repeat the principal motif.  Diversity in Monotony appears abundantly in the ornament, which is intricate and infinitely various; the law of Balance is everywhere operative in the symmetry of the entire design.  Rhythmic Change appears in the tapering of the minarets, the outlines of the domes and their mass relations to one another; and finally, the whole effect is of radiation from a central point, of elements disposed on radial lines.

It would be fatuous to contend that the prime object of a work of architecture is to obey and illustrate these laws.  The prime object of a work of architecture is to fulfill certain definite conditions in a practical, economical, and admirable way, and in fulfilling to express as far as possible these conditions, making the form express the function.  The architect who is also an artist however will do this and something beyond:  working for the most part unconsciously, harmoniously, joyously, his building will obey and illustrate natural laws—­these laws of beauty—­and to the extent it does so it will be a work of art; for art is the method of nature carried into those higher regions of thought and feeling which man alone inhabits:  regions which it is one of the purposes of theosophy to explore.

IV

THE BODILY TEMPLE